#EroticRomance #GLBT #FirstChapters PASSION’S FIRE by #author Jenna Rose Ellis @ChainedHeartsPb #TRRezine #Ezine

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“Fantastic read, I look forward to more books from Jenna. I really enjoyed Claire and Michael and Sam and James also. Heartwarming. ” ~ Crystal Sin, on Amazon

“Awesome! I like how understanding Michael is of Claire, how he soothes her and bolsters her courage and confidence regarding her sexuality. Great hero, and totally made the book for me. Would that all men are like him. I like his vulnerability toward the end, and Claire is so naughty to tease him…” ~ Ashia, on GoodReads

 

 

 

Available at:         Amazon

 

Three’s a crowd. Four is passion incarnate.

Her cousin’s plan sounds just like what the doctor ordered: Spend time–much naked time–with a hunky man or three to forget her vile ex, who’d called her a cold fish or worse. Claire’s determined to prove him wrong.

And prove him she does–in an incredible foursome that stretched her boundaries and gave her more orgasms than her ex ever did.

When she finds herself falling for one of the guys, would one man be enough for her or would she need all three men to ignite passion’s fire?

Product Warnings: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language and sexual situations such as m/m pairing, four-way sex involving m/f/m/m pairing, and triple penetration.and triple penetration.

Chapter One

Claire shifted her feet impatiently as raucous men’s laughter drifted out from beneath the closed door. Oh God. Her pulse speeded up and she could hear her heartbeat loud in her ears. There was more than one of them in there.

She wished, oh she wished he would be here—

The door jerked open, and Claire found herself staring into the attractive face of the man she’d seen before at Frank’s wedding, a face that had set her heart beating with unaccustomed rhythm three weeks ago and which was having the same effect on her tonight.

It was him. He had come.

“Yes? You’re the woman Jenny texted us about? We thought you weren’t coming.” He came a step forward and looked at her closely. He snapped his fingers. “You’re Frank’s and Jenny’s cousin, right?”

“You know me?” She was horrified to hear her voice squeak. He knew her from Frank’s wedding? She couldn’t quite credit it. But if not from there, then from what occasion did he identify her? They certainly hadn’t met before, and she knew Jenny hadn’t revealed her identity in the text messages.

Perhaps she had left a little impression on him after all.

“But of course. Claire Gilliard. What red-blooded man wouldn’t remember Frank’s very sexy cousin?”

His voice was too smooth and too charming. That was probably how he enticed women into his bed. Unfortunately for him, its effect on her was the opposite, and she saw past his words to the logic behind.

“All right,” she said wryly. “Let’s cut the crap. I look enough like Frank and Jenny to be their sister, and you have probably heard enough about me from them to remember my name, seeing as I’m his only cousin. I’ll be honest and tell you I’ve seen you at the wedding.”

The understatement of the day. Having her fantasy man appear in front of her had already placed her at a disadvantage, and she wasn’t giving this man more bullets to throw at her.

“But you don’t remember my name.” He finished the thought she deliberately left hanging, because she would’ve been lying if she’d said it. This way, she needn’t confirm or disprove his assumption. His deep-set brown eyes twinkled. “Ouch. My ego’s hurt.”

“I daresay you’ll survive.”

“Michael Lane.”

I know.

She didn’t think he’d bow but he did. “I’ll introduce you to the other guys in a minute. Come in, Miss Gilliard. Allow me to get your bag.” He stooped, picked up her overnight carrier and gestured for her to precede him into the cottage.

She went in, conscious of his presence behind her. She took her time looking around the tiny living room, though the cottage hadn’t changed much since she was here a few months ago. She was buying time for herself, because she didn’t know what to do.

How did one start a one-night stand?

Jenny did say she hoped more than one man would answer the call so that Claire could have several men to choose from. Should she ask Michael to arrange the men to parade in their swim trunks and evening clothes, like those in the beauty pageants, so she could judge and make a decision from among them? On the other hand, why bother when the man she wanted was right there—

The cottage door slammed shut behind her.

She pasted a bright smile on her lips and turned. “Which bedroom should I use?”

He quirked an eyebrow and set down her bag. He walked the few steps toward her with such predatory grace that her heart thudded against her rib cage and her shoulder bag slid to the floor from her nerveless hand, the strap having slipped down her shoulder ages ago. His lazy gaze strayed from her head down to her toes and lingered at some prominent places that had her tingling, something she hadn’t experienced before. He stopped in front of her and stared at her with a faint smile, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. “Maybe you should share mine.”

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#GLBT #FirstChapters : ANTEROGRADE by @Kallysten #TRRezine #Ezine

“I’ve put off writing this review because I was quite sure how to do it. The books we love are always the hardest to review. (…) These two characters touched me and they are beautifully written. Kallysten is a talented author.” ~ Sharon, 5 Sheep on I Smell Sheep

“Calden is a arrogant butthead. Of course he is a brilliant surgeon which explains his arrogance. Nevertheless, to see such a proud, powerful character stumble along struggling in his new life is jaw dropping. I kept trying to put myself in his shoes and I just couldn’t. As for Eli. That man is practically a SAINT! There were moments when I wondered WHY Eli would put up with Calden’s shenanigans. But then it hit me…what a person will do for the one he loves.” ~ Jacque, 5 stars on The Jeep Diva

“To watch these two men fall in love with each other day in and day out is such a lovely experience, and even though it’s bittersweet (you wish sometimes that Calden could just REMEMBER, damn it!), it’s a beautiful love story.” ~ 5 stars review on Barnes & Noble

 

Available at:   Amazon    Barnes and Noble    All Romance eBooks   iTunes   Smashwords

 

When Calden wakes up – every time he wakes up – the last thing he can recall is a debilitating headache that even his medical background failed to identify as anything more serious than a regular headache. He also remembers his decision to ignore the fact that his best friend Eli is married and to tell him about his long-standing feelings for him. He remembers June second.

But it is not June second anymore. The tattoos on his arm and chest prove it. They also tell him why he doesn’t remember anything past June second… and why Eli sleeps in his bed now.

When Calden wakes up – every time he wakes up – he gets to discover Eli is in love with him for the first time all over again.

Chapter One

Calden wakes up in the middle of a heart attack.

Or at least, that’s what it feels like. His chest is constricted, his body uncomfortably warm.

It is not, as such, an unfamiliar feeling. He felt this way before, after his sister Riley’s death, when he helped himself to the hospital’s supply of opiates. That night, he ended up knocking on death’s door, though he didn’t actually pass the threshold. That was how his mother described it in a rare use of metaphors that has somehow resisted all attempts from Calden to forget the whole ordeal.

Calden’s memory is a strange thing. He can recall that metaphor, he can recall his previous overdose, but he absolutely cannot recall the high that must have caused the overwhelming tightness in his chest.

Although…

As his grip on consciousness solidifies, he opens his eyes to find himself in his bed—he doesn’t remember getting in it—and with a possessive arm thrown across his chest. The owner of that arm, rather unexpectedly, is Eli. When or why Eli climbed into Calden’s bed, Calden cannot fathom.

Why they both appear to be nude is just as much of a mystery.

Calden isn’t opposed at all to those developments, but they are rather startling when he has no recollection of what led to this. And that lack of memories, as much as the tightness of Eli’s arm, quickly becomes too much to bear.

Pulling away, he sits on the edge of the bed, his feet firmly on the floor but his mind still unsteady. A quick look at the clock tells him it’s almost eight in the morning. His last memory is of lying on the sofa in the early afternoon with a splitting headache severe enough that Eli was concerned. Clearly things have happened since then. One of those things was sexual in nature, judging from a trace of discomfort so minimal Calden wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t taking stock of his body. It explains why he and Eli are naked in bed, but by God how did they get from friends to lovers in just a day?

“Bathroom,” Eli mumbles behind him, and the word feels like an electric shock. Calden nearly jumps to his feet.

“What?” he asks despite his suddenly dry throat.

Eli’s eyes are still closed, but he responds readily after a wide yawn.

“Go into the bathroom. Look at your arm. Then at your chest in the mirror. Then come back to bed ‘cause it’s too damn early to be up.”

He’s not making any sense, and Calden is about to say so when he sees something on the inside of his left arm. With only the glow of the alarm clock for light, he can’t make out more than a large stain, dark on his fair skin. Frowning, he stands and crosses the hallway to the bathroom. He has to blink a few times against the bright lights, but soon he looks down at his arm and sees that the stain is a tattoo.

His first thought is that this is appalling. Of all the ridiculous things to do to his body…

His second thought is that the tattoo is healed. There’s no redness, no swelling. It’s been there for a while. But how can that be? He didn’t have a tattoo earlier today.

The next thing he notices is that this is his handwriting. He couldn’t not recognize it. Slanted and untidy, it is as distinct to him as his own face. Which means he must have written the words and given them to a tattoo artist to ink exactly as they were.

The last thing he takes in is the words themselves. Or maybe he did read them first and shove their meaning back, too unsettled to consider them right away. But he can’t ignore them. Not when they are the beginning of an explanation as to what is going on.

The tattoo on his arm says: Diagnosis: anterograde amnesia.

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