Book Blitz & 2 GiveAways: Undressed by Avery Aster


undressed_limtedoffer_dingThe Book:
Book 1 in The Manhattanites series.

  Milan’s notorious playboy, Prince Tittoni, seems to have everything—Lamborghinis, exotic women, palaces throughout Europe and business success. Ramping up his fabric company to go global with a new apparel brand, he ruthlessly stops supplying fabrics to the American client who inspired the collection. But once they meet, what’s he willing to give to get her in his bed?

Upper East Side designer Lex Easton has already endured her fair share of hard knocks. She’ll be damned if she’ll let an Italian stud muffin knock her down. So what if she named her favorite vibrator after him? With Fashion Week approaching, she’ll do whatever it takes to secure the fabrics she needs to make her clothing line an international success—even sleep with her rival.

Lex’s Louboutins are dug in deep to win this war. All’s fair in love and fashion!

The eBook Deal of the Day:
Spend Your Summer in the City with The Manhattanites series by Avery Aster

If you’ve always wanted to experience an Ellora’s Cave novel at a great price…here’s your chance. Undressed (The Manhattanites #1) will be on sale, originally priced at $8.75 and marked down to $2.99 for a limited time at all major e-retail sites. This is a special promotion to in honor of the launch of Unscrupulous (The Manhattanites #2)

The Excerpt:
*set-up: Lex Easton is meeting Massimo Tittoni for the first time. Desperate for the fabrics, she has shown up at his summer estate to try and secure them before Fashion Week starts.

Distracted by a strawberry he brought to his mouth, the prince didn’t notice her. But she saw him, those perfect, sensual, full lips and the way his tongue slid out to catch the berry. He popped it in his mouth. Incredible.

Holding her breath, Lex stepped closer, right up to the hedonistic hearth. Why did the sunshine spotlight on her center stage? No monologue prepared, she didn’t think about what she’d say in a situation such as this one. Lex felt sensory overload. It would take every ounce left in her to stay focused on the Easton business at hand, not the Tittoni pleasure around her. Calm your kitty.

At last, the Adonis glanced up and dropped another ruby fruit’s helping into his mouth.    He stood, wrapping a Turkish towel around his narrow hips. The white cotton stretched similar to canvas, ready for a Grecian painter to color something fantastic. “Sì è persa?” he asked as he approached her.

Holy Coco Chanel! Okay, hotter in person than she’d seen in the tabloid photos or blogs—her dildo fantasies couldn’t have imagined—and she’d tried her best. But she’d come here to get her fabrics. She didn’t have time for Mediterranean sunbathing. Her boat would be on the dock in less than an hour and she needed her textiles.

“You must be Prince Massimo Tittoni,” she responded in English. She felt her cheeks tingle with a spark. Excitement waved as heat ran down her breasts, stopping at her pussy. A fierce siren intensified, one which made her want to reach down and touch her clit. She crossed her legs while standing, hoping, praying he’d be clueless as to why.

Sì. And you’re the fashion designer—” His attempt to tuck in the towel failed and it became loose, revealing his massive cock’s shape. It was decorated with a mighty helmet head for the tip—confirmation the blog’s photos, indeed, were real.

Moist legs clenching tighter, she rolled her shoulders back, raw arousal soaking her panties. Not wishing to make her admiration obvious, Lex focused on his dark eyes. She inhaled a shallow breath and walked forward.

“I’m Lex Easton with Easton Essentials in New York.”

Deep grooves spread across his forehead as he proclaimed, “When we spoke on the phone, I thought you were Signor Easton’s assistant. Today when Roberto announced your arrival, I learned you were Signorina Easton. Our phone call became inaudible.”

Assistant, my ass. “Lex is short for Alexandra and yes, it was me with whom you spoke. I’m the company’s owner.”

Massimo paused then continued, “You were instructed to stay in your villa until dinner, were you not?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I couldn’t wait. It’s imperative we speak. Please afford me a minute,” Lex begged. Balling her hands into fists in an attempt to control her nerves, she became conscious that visiting Isola di Girasoli might be in vain. From his vantage point, she must’ve appeared to be a maniac to have interrupted his vacation.

The prince put his hands on his hips. Beneath the towel, his groin became more visible.

Is he getting an erection? Hmmm. Lex tried her best not to stare, let alone lick her lips, though her throat felt dry. “I’m here for the day,” she added, hoping to persuade him to speed this up by giving him a deadline. “I’m heading back to Sicily tonight, flying up to Milan for an event tomorrow.”

Stepping closer, his large frame overshadowed hers as he spoke, “Lex has it all planned out, guys.” Massimo gave Luigi and his angels a nod to listen and mocked, “Happy we could oblige you on this Italiano fashion tour. Giorgio Armani has a casa a few islands up. You may wish to interrupt his holiday too. Have at it.” His sharp jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

Touché, Tittoni. Hard to remain coherent when close to him, he seemed massive in proportions, including muscle, cock, ego and sarcasm. Swallowing air to sober her response, she answered,           “Yes, as soon as we finish here. I’ll be on my way.”

He chuckled in mockery. “Lex, there is no boat service until Thursday. The captain comes twice a week. You will have to stay two nights—unless you can swim back to the mainland. It’s a far distance, even for an athlete.” He studied her up and down and added,             “Which you are not.”

What an asshole. “No, and I don’t pretend to be. Still, I can’t stay. I’ll call a water taxi if I miss the boat.” According to her watch, she was not going to make it.

Massimo’s deep laugh bounced off the pool’s concrete encasement. The girls, now dressed, waited behind him with Luigi. To be dismissed? “The boat has been on the same schedule for more than fifty years and cannot change course to meet your demands.”

The women shifted, growing restless, and the prince turned. “Ladies, Luigi’s getting bored. Get back in the pool.”

He took Lex’s hand.

            Ohhhhh my.

His demonstrative touch became warm and strong and confirmed in an instant her entire body wanted him.

Not today. No way. No how. Her brain on the other hand told her to knock it off.

“You and I are getting off to a bad start,” Massimo acknowledged. “It is a pleasure to meet such an accomplished designer. Please accept my apology and stay for dinner.”


“We will discuss Easton Essentials over a nice meal.” His playful fingers touched hers, and Lex became compelled to jump in her Jimmy Choos. But she didn’t.

You’re finger-fucking my palm. You hot pig. But she stood her ground.

He flirted with her to stay the night.

She wasn’t blind and she never played stupid.

What other option spoke to her? Get naked and jump into the pool with Luigi’s girls?        Three against one, she didn’t have a chance. But the prince didn’t pay them much mind.

No matter. Lex must keep this professional. She couldn’t backstroke to Sicily.

“Fine, I’ll return to the villa. See you this evening.” It was difficult to take her eyes off him as she dipped her head in parting, letting his grip go.

“And, Signorina Easton, please dress for dinner.” His mouth twisted into a grin as he sized her up. Dropping the lingering towel, he leapt headfirst into the water. Massimo did a perfect dive, no splash, not even a ripple.

But his plunge wasn’t what impressed Lex.

UnTheManhattanitesQuoteThe Series:

The Manhattanites is an extended modern erotic romance series of full length juicy melodramas multilayered on love, friendship, and drama to the hilt. If you grew up reading your mother’s novels by Jackie Collins, Judith Krantz and Danielle Steel you will devour this series as each book may be read as a stand alone. Sex & The City fans who watch TV shows like Girls (HBO), Mistresses (ABC/BBC Drama), and The Bold & the Beautiful (CBS) love The Manhattanites series. Avery’s characters are over the top. They have raunchy sex, speak their minds and always get what they want
: 78,000

The Author:

AVERY ASTER pens erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave. As a resident of New York’s Upper East Side and a graduate from New York University, Avery gives readers an inside look at the city’s glitzy nightlife, socialite sexcapades and tall tales of the über-rich and ultra-famous. “I write about what I see in my metropolis that never sleeps–Manhattanites on the quest for a passionate thrill,” Avery says. “By and large, my characters are dropdead gorgeous, ripped straight from the headlines and on the hunt for their next conquest.” UNDRESSED #1 (Lex & Massimo) launched The Manhattanites series, exploring people’s forbidden desires of lust and longing. UNSCRUPULOUS #2 (Taddy & Warner) is the highly anticipated prequel coming August 14,

2013. Also, stay tuned for the sequel with UNSAID #3 (Blake & Miguel) coming winter 2013.

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2 ecopies of Unscrupulous
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New Release Promo & GiveAway: CLAIMED



CLAIMED - Final CoverCLAIMED Book Blurb: 

A novel of erotic discovery and forbidden desire that goes beyond Fifty Shades of Grey. 

Presley Flynn is ripe to experience her secret fantasies… and Dmitri Pratt wants nothing more than to fulfill them. Once inside the elite Club Sin in Las Vegas, Presley is nervous but excited—and determined to surrender to her every desire. Dmitri is her Master, and his touch is like fire. With each careful, calculated caress, he unleashes her wildest inhibitions, giving her unimagined pleasure.

Presley is different than the other submissives Dmitri has mastered. The BDSM lifestyle is new to her, and so are the games they play at Club Sin. From the Start, Presley stirs emotions in Dmitri far beyond the raw purity between a Dom and the perfect sub. For the ecstasy they share goes beyond the dungeon, igniting a passion that claims the very depths of the heart.

CLAIMED is an erotic romance intended for mature audiences.

Find CLAIMED on Goodreads


“Master Dmitri doesn’t expect sex.” Cora grunted. “You’ll keep your clothes on.”

Presley Flynn scanned the foyer of the snazzy mansion and looked for something to hold on to as her roommate, Cora Adams, hustled her down the corridor. With a little shove, Cora added, “You wanted this, remember?”

“Clearly, I’ve lost my damn mind.” Presley pushed back against Cora’s hands, trying to hold her ground.

The mansion was pleasant, with thick dark wood on the trim of the doorways and gentle burgundy-painted walls, but it did nothing to settle her nerves. Beneath her feet, located in the basement, was the elite BDSM dungeon, Club Sin. “Maybe I need to go to a therapist. Or skip that part and go straight to the nuthouse.”

Cora stepped in front of Presley, and her big blue eyes, lined with dark makeup, sparkled. Her long chocolate-colored hair fell over her black blouse, and her red lipstick covered pursed lips. “You told me you wanted to join the dungeon.”

Presley snorted. “You said I was a long-lost submissive who needed the lifestyle. Which, apparently, is so far from the truth, since why am I on the verge of puking all over this fancy hardwood floor?”

Cora smirked. “Please don’t puke on Master Dmitri’s floor.”

“Okay, great,” Presley muttered in total agreement. “See, it’s best I leave.”

She turned to get the hell out of the place when Cora grabbed her arm, pulling Presley back in front of her. “One chance, Presley, that’s all you get. If you leave now, you won’t be allowed to come back.”

Cora walked forward, and Presley found herself matching her stride. They passed a grand wooden staircase on the left, leading to the upstairs. A huge wrought-iron balcony curved around the entire upper floor, which led to numerous doors used for God knew what.

They strode by an oval-shaped dining room, and Cora added, “There’s a reason why you read so many BDSM erotic novels. There’s a reason why it turns you on. And there’s a reason why you made the decision to come with me tonight.”

Stopping near the doorway to the office that Presley had been avoiding for the last five minutes, she inhaled. “You’re right. I did come here for a reason.” To surrender to her every desire. “I don’t want to walk out the front door, but—” She pointed toward the office. “I’m scared shitless to walk through that door.”

“Of course you are.” Cora grinned. “Your darkest, most secret fantasies await you in that office.” Without another word, she spun on her heel and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction.

“Do you plan on coming in?”

Presley started at the powerful low voice that seemed to draw her forward, giving the fearful butterflies in her stomach a flutter of excitement. Her feet moved without thought as she entered the office, which looked much like a library.

Books filled the shelves at the far end of the room, along with a grand wooden desk. A computer and telephone and other office accessories sat on top of it. A sleek black leather couch was situated straight ahead, under the bay window.

“Ah, she finally decides to enter.”

Presley froze, as time halted. The man never raised his head to look at her, but he didn’t need to. His presence filled the room, making her entirely aware of him. He sat at the desk, his head bowed toward the paper he’d been reading. With the slight curve to his mouth, he stole the air from her lungs. He was hot.

As the owner of Club Sin and the president of Las Vegas’s top casino, Dmitri Pratt matched the mansion with his wealthy exuberance. Hard angles defined his jawline and cheekbones. His lips were lush and sculpted and his nose straight-edged. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up on his muscular forearms, displaying a tribal dragon tattoo on his left arm.

When she didn’t move, Dmitri stated, with his eyes still focused on the paper, “Take a seat on the couch.”

Exhaling slowly, she shed the tension in her chest as she made her way to the leather sofa and sat down. The coolness of the upholstery against her heated skin came as much needed relief. She crossed her legs, doing her best to portray confidence.

In front of this powerful and experienced man, she didn’t want to show her apprehension. In fact, she’d never been this uncomfortable around men, but Dmitri wasn’t simply a man. He sexually dominated women, and as a Dom, he did the kinky things Presley had only dreamed of fulfilling.

He signed the paper, then he lifted his head. Presley forgot the world around her, absorbed in him. His piercing blue eyes gazed over her from head to toe before his focus returned to her face. The depth of those eyes pulled her in with the intensity of how he watched her. No, how he studied her. He didn’t give her a quick look but a long examination.

Under his stare, her body went mushy and hot. Flames flickered through her veins as he stood from his chair and approached. Her fingernails bit into her palms as her heart rate increased. His muscular frame didn’t fit his fluid gait. Each step he took exuded authority, like a lion on a hunt, but appeared graceful, with controlled power.

She scanned the thickness of his shoulders beneath his black dress shirt, and she noticed how the fabric clung to him, detailing the valleys of his muscles. Glancing lower, she found the rest of him to be more of the same—powerful and masculine. His black slacks, held tight by a leather belt hung low on his hips, hugged his thick thighs.

Stopping in front of her, he stared at her with impressively intense eyes, and a strand of his stylish blond hair hung across his forehead. “So, you’re Cora’s friend? Presley, right?”

The commanding nature of his voice made her breathing erratic. This man had the capability of making her feel giddy as a schoolgirl, as if he were her secret crush who’d noticed her at last. “Yes, that’s me.”

Dmitri’s mouth twitched, and he tucked a finger under her jaw, tilting up her chin. “Welcome to my home, Presley.”

She shivered at the stern yet gentle hold. “Thank you.”

He slid a finger along her jawline, cocking his head, and his study of her touched the center of her soul, awakening her body in a foreign way. As if, for the first time in her life, a man looked at her and truly saw her. His examination made her bare, totally exposed to him, and unusually vulnerable.

Locked in a stare she couldn’t break free from, she wiggled in her seat, unable to stop herself, then she froze. After another shift, she couldn’t ignore the damp silk between her thighs. How was that even possible—nervous one minute to undeniably turned on the next?

Dmitri’s eyebrow arched, and that sexy smile returned. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you, doll?”

He removed his hold and she quivered, and her body hummed with desire. The memory of his touch remained. The path his finger had taken was scorched into her skin, and the heat within only intensified as she drew in his masculine scent, edged with sandalwood.

Watching the twinkle in his eyes increase, she cursed herself for being entirely too obvious. Or maybe she should curse him for being so talented at reading people. To calm down, she glanced around the office, looking for something to take her mind off of her response to him.

It was hopeless.

The home seemed like a fairy tale all in itself. Along the dark taupe wall across from her were four huge canvases forming a solid picture of a lone tree and a moon, reminding her that she was out of her element. “That painting is beautiful.” Enormous and expensive. “Did you pick it out?”

Dmitri followed her gaze for only a moment. “Do I look like the type of man who’d know about art?”

She licked her dry lips, staring at his sculpted mouth that held the mysterious smile, and she admitted, “Kind of.”

“No, doll, I couldn’t care less about it.” He winked. “That’s what interior decorators are for.”

Dmitri deftly turned and strode toward the watercooler in the corner of the office. Presley frowned at his back. Perhaps she had misread him and he wasn’t as fancy as she’d thought, since he seemed amused by her response.

After filling a tall glass with water, he returned to her and offered her the glass. “Here, drink this, love.”

“Thanks.” She accepted the glass, and settled the cool glass on her lap, not sure she’d get the water down her dry throat.

Dmitri leaned in and gazed into her eyes dead-on. “I didn’t give you the glass to hold. I gave you the water because you need it. Drink up, Presley.”

The stern set of his jaw indicated he wouldn’t relent, so with a shrug, she sipped the water. The cool liquid rushed through her mouth and down her throat, easing the tightness as she swallowed. Maybe she needed that more than she’d thought. He gave a firm nod. “Better.”

As he sat next to her on the couch, his thick thigh brushed against hers, and a spark blasted through her, causing her cheeks to warm. The side of his mouth once again curved as he stared at her blush before those intense eyes zeroed in on hers. “Now, then, tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Well—” She focused on their conversation and away from how incredible his body felt against hers. “My parents are still together and have a good marriage. I grew up in Apple Valley my entire life, but I moved to Vegas about four months ago to live with my ex.” She took another sip of the water and realized she’d almost opened a door she didn’t want to go through. Gathering her thoughts, she looked at her hands, clenched around the glass, and continued. “That’s a story not worth repeating.” No way in hell would she tell him about her ex-boyfriend, Steven Moser, on whom she wasted eight years of her life. “Let’s see . . . I’m twenty-five and have no kids.”

Dmitri raised his ankle over his knee, drawing her focus to him, and she noticed his body shaking in silent laughter. Maybe, with Steven on her mind, her defenses were already on high alert. Or perhaps Dmitri made her feel way too inexperienced and even too nervous in this erotic adventure she’d entered, but her glare came fierce and instant.

He frowned. “Would you like to try that again?”

“I have nothing else to say.” She shifted against the couch, realizing now that she deserved his mirth. In this place, she might as well have a halo over her head. “That’s all there is to know about me.”

“No, Presley.” His eyes were dark, firm, and cold. “In my house, my guests don’t glare at me.”

Had he honestly noticed her glare? Most times when she glared at Steven, he didn’t see it or didn’t care enough to ask what had upset her. “I—”

Dmitri’s eyes narrowed. “If I’ve upset you, tell me, so I can address it. Don’t give me nasty looks that I don’t deserve, considering I’ve hardly said a word.”

The authority in his voice made her insides quiver. It was the meaning in his statement that spoke to something deep inside her—I see you. Even if what she’d done bothered him, he didn’t overlook any of her actions. For the first time in a long time—possibly ever—she wasn’t a shadow, a person everyone passed and never truly looked at, and that made her speechless.

However, at his firm look urging her to continue, she took his advice and asked, “What did you find so funny?”

He dropped his ankle from his knee and turned to face her. “Your little rundown there.” His stern expression melted away to a charming smile, drawing her full attention to his kissable mouth. “I didn’t mean for you to tell me everything about yourself, as if I were hiring you.”

Just kill me now!

His eyes softened, as did his voice. “I meant for you to tell me why you want to join the dungeon, considering you look incredibly nervous.”

She almost rolled her eyes but stopped herself. “Right, I guess that’s what you’d want to know.” Shoving her embarrassment away to fret over later, she put on a brave face and lifted her chin. “Well, I read a lot of erotic romance books and . . . um . . . Cora has told me about the lifestyle, and you see, it . . . ”

With a gentle hold, he gripped her chin, tilting her head downward. “Arouses you?”

He dropped his hand and she nodded, and the water in the glass rippled in waves from the tremble of her hands. Gripping it tightly, she bit her lip, which didn’t ease the flickers of mortified tremors.

“What about BDSM arouses you?”

His intense study reached into her soul. She squirmed against the leather couch, and her skin flushed wicked hot. “Err . . . the sex stuff.”

One sleek eyebrow lifted. “The sex stuff?”

She followed the line of his brow along the masculine contours of his face. While his eyebrow arch looked simple enough, it portrayed a statement of curiosity, and he was beautiful. “You know, being tied up, dominated . . . and um . . . other stuff.”

Dmitri considered her in a way that made her feel as if he noticed every flaw on her face. “I’m going to be blunt with you, Presley.” Before she could inquire what he meant by blunt, he added, “I’d appreciate if you stay quiet while I talk. After I’m done, we can discuss what I’ve told you.” He waited for her nod, then he continued. “A Club Sin submissive can be restrained with ropes, cuffs, chains, or anything that can be used to bind a person.” His grin became devilish. “Doms enjoy being creative.”

Sweet Jesus!

“In a scene, you might be flogged, paddled, whipped, spanked, or caned. You could find yourself tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross, tossed over a spanking bench, or attached to any other device located in the dungeon.”

Damn her body for flushing at those choices, and damn his wicked expression declaring enjoyment. She took a big gulp of the water, which this time didn’t help the dryness in her throat.

His eyes twinkled. “If it’s within your limits, you might have intercourse in the dungeon or be asked to give oral sex; if your Dom is especially pleased, you could find yourself climaxing in front of a crowd.”

Her mouth dropped open, but he seemed not to realize or care. He added, “This isn’t a sex club meant to have vanilla sex. At Club Sin, you are the submissive and are treated as such.” Drawing in a deep breath, he allowed her a minute to process before he said, “There are no slaves at Club Sin. We have submissives who, outside of the dungeon, are equal in every regard. In the dungeon, you are the bottom in the relationship and will need to accept that. You don’t make decisions. You don’t ask questions. You do what your Dom tells you to do.”

A shiver slid down her spine. Not at what he said, exactly, but how he said it. The heated look in his eye and the stern tone portrayed a confidence that her lower half appreciated. Which had been part of the battle, excitement at the thought of a man controlling her, yet she’d been raised to have a voice and thoughts. Meshing the two desires and wants was confusing at best.

His head tilted. “Submissives at Club Sin are expected to be submissive only while in a scene. Meaning you’re not expected to be in high protocol at all times in the dungeon, as in kneeling at your Dom’s feet and avoiding eye contact. These are the rules I’ve put in place at Club Sin, because they’re what I prefer. To be a member, everyone must follow that rule.”

He once again let her process it all before he said, “Of course, you are to respect all Doms with proper address; mind your manners; and be respectful to other submissives. But we are not a club that expects high protocol, unless that’s something your Dom requires of you for a punishment.” That ridiculously sexy eyebrow arched again. “Do you understand?”

Presley nodded and wiggled in her seat, trying to ignore the heat swirling between her thighs. All of what he said were things she’d read about, fantasized over, and the idea that she’d play the submissive role made her burn.

“Some submissives like things others don’t, and that’s why you outline your limits when you sign the dungeon’s agreement. That part of play at Club Sin is nonnegotiable. Your limits will never be broken. If you want to change a limit, you’ll have a sit-down with me to discuss it. I may agree without hesitation, or I might request that I watch you in scene first if the limit change is drastic.” He casually picked a piece of lint off his pants. “What you do in your private life is your business. Here, in the dungeon, what you do is my business, since I’m the owner of Club Sin. All clear?”

She nodded, managing to close her parted lips, but she was unable to look away from his eyes. There, in their depths, she found something so intoxicating, so centered. Dmitri appeared to be the most put-together man she’d ever met in her life, so sure of himself and his choices, and that was even sexier than his muscular frame and gorgeous face.

He flicked the piece of lint onto the floor. “If you don’t follow what has been asked of you, you will be punished. If you refuse your punishment, you will be escorted from the dungeon and not allowed to return.”

Her breath became trapped in her throat, and as if he read her concern, he added, “A punishment can be a spanking with a hand or a paddle, a night spent wearing a gag, or whatever the Dom thinks is appropriate for your disobedience. But no punishment would ever exceed your limits. One thing you can count on is your punishment will be fair.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling gently. “Now tell me how you feel about what I’ve told you.”

“It’s . . . well . . . I . . .” She swallowed, shifting through all the confusion coursing through her veins. Her body burned so hot that she wanted out of her skin. Her mind warned her how insane it was to agree to something that could, in fact, lead to a punishment.

After a moment, she realized the winner of the internal battle was glaringly obvious, because it was why she’d come here tonight. “God forgive me, I liked it.”

Dmitri gave her a long look before he threw his head back with laughter. Her embarrassment quickly turned to anger, and she stood so fast that the water spilled on the floor. “Stop laughing at me! This isn’t funny.”

He slowly looked at her. His eyes had darkened. He rose to his feet with a powerful grace, taking the glass from her hands, and slamming it on the end table with a clunk. “To your knees.”

In a swift move, she dropped to her knees, cringing when she connected with the hardwood floor. The second the pain eased, she realized what he’d asked and what she’d done.

Had she honestly responded to Dmitri without a single thought? Was she seriously kneeling for the man at his feet? And why had he told her to kneel? Because she snapped at him, or maybe she’d glared again? Her mind raced to understand what had happened in the last couple of seconds, but failed miserably.

Dmitri’s shiny black shoes rested in front of her, and his rich masculine scent wrapped around her. He didn’t move, nor did he say a word.

She did the only thing she thought would be appropriate in this extremely awkward moment. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”


Stacey Kennedy is an urban fantasy lover at heart, but she also enjoys losing herself in dark and sensual worlds. She loves in southwestern Ontario with her husband, who gave her a happily-ever-after. Together, they have two small children who can always make her smile, and who will never be allowed to read Mommy’s books. If she’s not plugging away at a new story, you’ll find her camping, curling up with the latest flick, or obsessing over Sons of Anarchy, Supernatural, True Blood and Lost Girl.

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Blog Barrage & Giveaway: Unleash

Unleash, the sixth book in Felicity Heaton’s Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series is now available. To celebrate the release, she’s holding a fantastic giveaway at her website and she’s also offering the first book in the series, Covet, for FREE at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and Apple iBooks Stores.

Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6)

Felicity Heaton

A powerful vampire lost deep in his bloodlust, Snow is a savage animal, mindless with rage and a thirst for violence, and trapped with no hope of awakening from an endless nightmare… until a song draws him up from the abyss, restoring his sanity but leaving him haunted by the sweet feminine scent of lilies and snow, and fragmented familiar lyrics.

When the mysterious and beautiful songstress reappears in Snow’s room at Vampirerotique, she awakens a fierce protective streak and stirs dark desires that drive him to claim her as his female, even when he knows his touch will destroy her innocence.

A single forbidden taste is all it takes to unleash emotions in Aurora that she shouldn’t possess, tearing her between duty and desire, and luring her into surrendering to her wildfire passion and embracing hungers that burn so hotly they threaten to consume them both.

One act of kindness can lead to one thousand acts of sin though, each a black mark against the bearer’s soul and another grain of sand that slips through an hourglass. The clock is ticking and time is almost up. Can beauty save the beast?


Snow ducked his head under the hot spray of water and closed his eyes as it soaked through his hair, washing away the shampoo.

He braced his hands against the black tiles in front of him in the double-width shower stall and hung his head forwards, letting the water hit his nape and cascade over his back. The heat soothed the last remnants of tightness from his muscles.

He had worked out in his apartment after Antoine had gone, putting his body through its paces to try to bring himself back to full strength, and had needed this shower. It completed the therapeutic and almost ritualistic process of putting the past three weeks out of his mind by erasing the evidence stamped on his body—the weakness, the bloodstains, and the fatigue. He always felt better afterwards. Almost normal.

Snow opened his pale blue eyes and stared at his feet. Rivulets streamed from the tips of his white hair and his chin and nose, catching the light and sparkling as they fell to the tray far below.

His lips parted and he sighed. Working out had felt good but a shower was always the best medicine after an extended period of captivity. It revitalised him, leaving him feeling alive and awake, and at peace.

He had already scrubbed himself from head to toe twice over, paying close attention to his wrists and ankles.

Snow straightened, the water beating on his broad bare chest, and removed one hand from the wall. He turned his palm upwards and stared down at his scarred wrist.

The marks would fade in time, his preternatural healing taking care of them and leaving smooth skin behind. They were always chafed though, permanent evidence that he had to spend his days wearing leather-lined steel cuffs attached to inch-thick chains that were secured to the industrial grade steel posts at the corners of his bed.

When they had first moved to the theatre, he had forced Antoine to purchase the strongest, thickest metal posts he could find and make a bed out of them for him. Antoine had protested but had done as he had asked in the end, arranging for the restraints at the same time.

His younger brother had told him countless times that he didn’t need to chain himself each day, and Snow had always countered that it was necessary and he did not mind it.

He did. He hated it.

That was beside the point though.

It was necessary, and ever since that fateful night centuries ago, he had always done whatever was necessary to protect others from himself.

Snow heaved a sigh, his chest expanding with it, powerful muscles straining, and ran his hand down his face.

It would have been so much easier if Antoine had agreed to do as Snow had asked that same night and destroyed him.

He deserved to be put down like the rabid beast he was.

Antoine was nothing if not stubborn though. He had been bleeding profusely from the savage wounds Snow had inflicted upon him, carving up his chest and arms so badly that Antoine had scarred rather than healed completely. Snow had thought he would seek revenge for himself and their family, or perhaps take his head as an act of mercy. He had dared to hope his brother would do what was right.

Antoine had refused to kill him and had even pressed him to promise that he would never kill himself either. Snow had agreed and regretted it the moment it had left his lips.

The past few centuries had been hell. Seeing Antoine every night and knowing what he had done to him, the fact he had almost killed the brother he loved with all of his black heart. Seeing Antoine and knowing that he had stolen everything from his brother in one night of madness. Seeing his brother and knowing that he had butchered their entire family.

Seeing Antoine’s face and seeing their mother’s pale blue eyes and their father’s dark brown hair.

It was enough to drive a man insane.

It was a good job he was already crazy.

Snow switched off the shower, ran his hands over his hair to squeeze the water out, and slid the glass cubicle door open. He stepped out onto the black tiles and grabbed a thick white towel. A very impractical colour, but he liked the touch of purity and lightness it brought into his dark world.

He scrubbed the towel over his hair and then dried himself off with one hand. He swiped his free palm across the clouded mirror, clearing enough to reveal his reflection and the main room of his apartment through the open door behind him.

He never liked to look at himself, normally hated seeing his reflection and seeing his mother’s eyes and hair, knowing what he had done to her, but he sometimes felt the need to look and remind himself of what he had done.

A twisted form of punishment.

He dropped the damp towel, pressed both palms against the edge of the black counter, and leaned forwards over the sink, staring hard at his reflection.

A face his mother had often called angelic.

The face of a cold-blooded murderer.

Snow growled and slammed his right fist into his face in the mirror, splintering the glass. Fire seared his knuckles and blood instantly ran down the shards of mirror. He pulled his fist back and plucked a sliver of glass from the soft flesh between his index and middle finger, and dropped it into the sink.

The scent of blood compelled him to taste it, stirring the darkness that constantly lurked within him, stalking just beneath the surface, barely restrained.

He rinsed his bloodied knuckles off in the black oval sink and then inspected them. Two of the cuts were deep. He lifted his hand to his face and sucked those two, drawing more blood to the surface. It tasted foul.

His stomach cramped and he spat the blood into the sink and then swiped his tongue across his knuckles to seal the wounds. The bleeding was already slowing. Within a few minutes, his flesh would begin to knit itself back together and heal.

He took a small towel and wrapped it around his hand, and then strolled naked into his bedroom. The bed loomed directly in front of him. He had promised Antoine that he would sleep and he meant to keep that promise.

He wanted to be sane enough to head down to the party even if it was only for a few minutes. Everyone was depending on him and he didn’t want to let all of them down. They had held off on celebrating the arrival of the twins so he could share in the joy of the event. He needed to be there.

He veered right, heading for the ebony chest of drawers that lined the black wall there next to his elegant wardrobe. He pulled out one of the smaller drawers at the top, fished a fresh pair of black boxers out, and shut it again. Someone spoke in the hall. Snow paused and listened. Callum was talking to Payne as they walked along the hall towards Callum’s apartment beyond Snow’s one. Discussing children.

Payne had taken responsibility for the witch’s youngling? Snow had never pictured the young vampire as a father. He had always imagined him to be more of a bachelor forever type because of his incubus blood.

Was everyone going to settle down and produce offspring now?

Snow tugged his boxer shorts on. They were all going to leave him behind. Everyone had a female now, something warm and tender in their lives. They were complete.

Where did that leave Snow?

With a frustrated growl, he pulled his wardrobe doors open, grabbed fresh bed linen from the stack he kept at the bottom, and slammed them shut again. What did he care about females? No female in her right mind would want him, and he certainly did not want a female.

He could never trust himself with something so weak and breakable.

He lumbered across his room, bare feet thumping against the wooden floor, and dumped the black linen beside his bed. He stripped the soiled covers off and focused on replacing them with fresh ones to keep his mind off a topic that had often angered him.

He had warred with himself many times about finding a female, debating the pros and cons of such a mission, and all the possible outcomes. It was highly likely that a female would leave him the moment she discovered the ugly truth about him, his bloodlust, and his horrific past.

He would probably react to her betrayal by losing his head to bloodlust and killing her.

He had a tendency to react violently whenever someone sought to hurt him.

Breaking his heart would cause him the ultimate pain.

Snow shook that thought away and smoothed the edges of his black covers down, neatening them. He grabbed his black robe and slung it on, but didn’t bother to fasten the belt.

Darkness swirled inside him like a rising tide that he was powerless to hold back. He breathed slowly, trying to work past the tightening knot in his breast, hoping to calm down before he lost himself again.

He sat on the bed and lay with his back against the pillows and his head against the steel bars of the headboard. He cast a glance at the restraints that rested on the pillows on either side of him. They were there if he needed them and that gave him back a fraction of his control, but didn’t quell his rising bloodlust.

His heart galloped, refusing to heed his attempts to slow it, and he closed his eyes and focused on positive things. The battle between his darker hungers and his desire to remain sane intensified and he breathed harder, drawing deep and filling his lungs with cool air. The soft scent of lilies and snow lingered in that air and his mind drifted to the lyrics of the song.

Calm swept through him, driving back the darkness for a brief second before it surged forwards again, obliterating the sense of peace.

A breeze washed over his bare flesh.

Snow frowned. There were no windows in his room. The breeze carried the unmistakable scent of snow yet it felt warm, and familiar.

Someone was in his apartment. He felt their presence as a soft caress that reached right down to his tainted soul and chased the black shadows from it.

Snow drew in a deeper breath of lily of the valley and snow, the pure feminine scent stirring his body and soothing the tension from it. He held it in his lungs and slowly opened his eyes, settling them directly on the dark beauty standing at the foot of his bed.

She was stunning, with a fall of glossy raven hair that playfully curled around slender shoulders and contrasted against her milky skin, heart-shaped rosy lips, a button nose, and the most incredible yet familiar eyes. They were turquoise around the outside but faded to a brilliant blue at their centres, around the dark mesmerising chasms of her pupils.

A pure white dress clung to dangerous curves and full breasts that would make any man’s eyes linger on her, evoking images in his head that he shouldn’t entertain but couldn’t keep at bay. He had never seen a female like her.

The white layers of her dress criss-crossed over her torso, forming a zigzagging line downwards from between the swell of her creamy breasts to the point above her navel. They flowed from there, free and untamed, drifting down to caress her ankles and her small bare feet.


Unleash is available from these and many other ebook stores: Kindle: Kindle: Kindle:
Apple iBookstore US:
Apple iBookstore UK:
Apple iBookstore Canada:
Apple iBookstore Australia:
Apple iBookstore New Zealand:
Kobo Books:

 Find all the links at:


About Felicity Heaton:

Felicity Heaton writes passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In her books she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons!

If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, Felicity Heaton’s best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series she writes as F E Heaton or any of her stand alone vampire romance books she writes as Felicity Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try Felicity Heaton’s new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.

In 2011, five of her six paranormal romance books received Top Pick awards from Night Owl Reviews, Forbidden Blood was nominated as Best PNR Vampire Romance 2011 at The Romance Reviews, and many of her releases received five star reviews from numerous websites.

 If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:


Find out how to enter the Unleash international giveaway (ends May 26th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website, where you can also download a 5 chapter sample of the novel:

You can find all the links for the Covet special offer (and two other free paranormal romance ebooks) at:

Books in the Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series

Covet (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 1)

Crave (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 2)

Seduce (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 3)

Enslave (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 4)

Bewitch (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 5)

Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6)

Spotlight: Travelphan: Fear, Faith, & Glory in a Journey Across Asia

Travelphan_ Fear, Faith, & Glory in a Journey Across Asia - Ryan Astaphan     Travelphan: Fear, Faith, & Glory in a Journey Across Asia  by Ryan Astaphan
Pages: 248
Published by Ryan Astaphan
Release Date: December 12, 2012

Book Description:

Travelphan is a non-fiction travel journal that tells Ryan Astaphan’s life story. In January of 2011 Ryan set off on a trip with an itinerary that would take him to India, Thailand, and China. To understand why the trip meant so much to him, you would have to know all the events that led Ryan to quit his job and travel through Asia.

In Travelphan, you will find out about Ryan’s chaotic childhood and turbulent mind. Very early in life Ryan became deeply depressed; that depression had lasting effects on him that you will see followed him all the way to Asia. An escape from that depression was found in sports, which instantly became Ryan’s greatest love (other than people, of course).

Outside of sports, Ryan was a lost soul. The son of two medical professionals, Ryan had no love for education and no idea what direction his life was going in. Outside of sports, Ryan got into drugs, especially while in college. It was during those years in college that Ryan suffered devastating knee injuries, which had doctors saying he would never play sports again.

A drastic event in Ryan’s life made him reconsider everything. It was then that he decided that life is too fleeting to be unhappy. Laying in bed one night, Ryan recalled a dream of his from childhood. He wished to learn kung fu in China. When he closed his eyes he could see himself training in an orange jumpsuit atop a foggy mountain. At 26 years old, Ryan realized there was nothing stopping him from living out his dream. As he planned his trip, he figured that if he would be going all the way to China that it would be worth stopping in some other countries.

Ryan always had a fascination with India; it always seemed so mystical, dreamy, and different. Ryan’s plan was to visit an ashram to meditate and heal his soul. As you will find out, things did not go as planned.

After a month in India, Ryan would spend two in Thailand. There he would learn Thai kickboxing. Ryan figured that if he could survive the brutal competition, that he would no longer have to worry about his past knee problems, the ones that kept him out of sports for five years. Once again, things did not go as Ryan planned.

If Ryan could make his way past India and Thailand, he would be off to live out a dream in China.

About the Author


Ryan Astaphan always excelled in school, but never cared much for writing. It was expected that he would follow a path to the sciences, as both of his parents worked in the medical field. It would take years of pent up emotion and the loneliness that he found in India to drive him to write. The writing continued until he returned from a life-changing trip. It was then that he compiled his notebooks into Travelphan.
Ryan is 28 years old and a resident of Weston, FL, not far from Miami. He enjoys sports, travel, and animals.
Follow Ryan Astaphan

 Travelphan: Fear, Faith, & Glory in a Journey Across Asia on Amazon