Welcome to the blog of Author H K Carlton — Variety is creativity’s playground — It’s where you’ll find me...
Tuesday, 12 March 2024
Release Blitz : Not That Kind of Witch - by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 #contemporaryromance #romance #steamyromance
Tuesday, 27 June 2023
NEW RELEASE from Lucy Felthouse – Curve Appeal, a standalone contemporary reverse harem/why choose romance! (@cw1985) #reverseharem #whychoose #rh #rhromance #eroticromance #bbw #curvyheroine #rubenesque
Blurb:
An
exciting opportunity could solve all Brianna's problems. But will it ultimately
create more?
Brianna
Denton is a primary school teacher at the end of her tether. Budget cuts,
changes in legislation and a pandemic have left her feeling like walking away from
the only career she's ever wanted. The trouble is, if she did quit, what would
she do next? Living in London is expensive, and keeping on top of her rent and
bills while retraining would be nigh-on impossible. An offer to move in with
her best friend, Joel Harris, is appreciated, but feels way too much like
charity for her liking.
But
then Joel throws her a curveball. On a complete whim, he's bought a fixer-upper
cottage on a remote Scottish island. He wants to transform it into an
uber-luxury holiday home and rent it out. To do that, however, he needs a
skilled, reliable workforce and a project manager to keep things running
smoothly. A visit to the island in question provides as many questions as
answers, but one thing becomes clear - Brianna is the perfect woman for the
job. She's smart, organised, works well under duress, and if she can handle a
classroom full of young children, surely a bunch of skilled tradesmen won't be
a problem. Working and living in such a stunning setting is a massive plus point,
too.
Brianna
takes a leap of faith, leaving her home and beloved career behind to help turn
Joel's dream into a reality. It's a steep learning curve, but Brianna is
definitely up for the challenge. But when working relationships develop into
something more, will it bring the entire project crashing down around her ears,
or is it simply the beginning of a whole new life?
Available from (will be in Kindle Unlimited for 90 days,
then be released on all other retailers): https://books2read.com/curveappeal
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/134717777-curve-appeal
Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/curve-appeal-by-lucy-felthouse
Excerpt:
Brianna smiled as she caught sight of
Joel, already waiting for her outside the pub. His job as a high-flying London
City banker meant he put in some insane hours at work, but he ensured he was always
available and on time for their last-Friday-of-the-month meet up at their
favourite Thames-side establishment. Not only was it a lovely place, but the
location was perfect for them both—it was just far away enough from Joel’s work
it was unlikely he’d bump into any colleagues, and close enough to the primary
school Brianna taught in that she could tie up any loose ends and scurry the
short distance to meet her friend in no time at all. Today she’d had quite a
few loose ends, which always seemed to be the way lately, and was a few minutes
later than she’d planned, so was scurrying more quickly than usual, not wanting
to keep him waiting any longer than necessary.
He hadn’t spotted her yet—he was
leaning against the wall, one expensively-shod foot propped up on the bricks
behind him, his head tilted up to the early spring sunshine, which even this
late in the day was surprisingly strong and picked up the few lighter strands
in his dark hair. He’d removed his tie—knowing him, the moment he set foot
outside his office building—the end of which poked from the pocket of his black
trousers, and rolled up the cuffs of his subtly-patterned shirt to expose most
of his forearms. The look was casual, relaxed. Handsome.
In a parallel universe, she and Joel
might be a couple, off travelling the world together, or perhaps married and
getting ready to settle down and have a couple of kids. Maybe they’d have started
early and had the kids already. And a dog.
In this universe, however, they
were best friends—had been since their first day of senior school at the tender
age of eleven. And while Brianna thought Joel handsome, it was in an impartial,
stating a fact way. She wasn’t attracted to him, and it wouldn’t have made a
difference if she was, because in this universe, Joel was as gay as they
came—a fact she hadn’t realised she’d already known, until at eighteen he’d sat
her down, his expression serious, and said he had something to tell her.
Her heart had pounded, and a sick
feeling had taken over her stomach. Thoughts started racing through her
head—was one of his parents ill? Was he ill? Was he moving away? Unable
to cope with the internal onslaught of negativity any longer, she’d said, “For
Christ’s sake, Joel, spill the beans, would you? You’re freaking me the fuck
out.”
His seriousness had morphed briefly to
annoyance, then resignation. He’d taken in and released a deep breath, then,
“Bree, I wanted you to be the first to know… I’m gay.”
A sound somewhere between a squeak and
a giggle had escaped her lips before she could stop it. She’d clapped her hand
over her mouth for a second, then removed it and burst out with “Oh, you
idiot!” before landing a playful slap on his arm. “Is that all? I thought you
were going to say something bad. That something terrible was going on. Thank God.”
Joel had frowned. “So you… don’t mind?”
He’d paused, narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem surprised.”
She’d shaken her head. “Of course I
don’t mind. Why the hell would I mind? I’m not a homophobe. If blokes
float your boat, so be it. As long as you’re happy, I couldn’t give a toss.
And, for the record…” it had been her turn to pause, “I think I’ve known for
years.” She nodded as long-forgotten jigsaw pieces began slotting together in
her head, then shrugged. “Yeah. I have. Years.”
And now, twenty years later, their
friendship had endured—flourished, even. Weathered storms, and basked in
sunlight—much as Joel continued to do as she grew closer. Her smile widened,
and she was glad she had on flat shoes—not only did it make both her job and
the short walk from the school easier, it also meant she had a good chance
of creeping up on Joel, maybe scaring the shit out of him as he sunned himself.
They might be approaching forty, but when they were together, they often acted
as immature and idiotic as they had when they’d first met. Yes, they were
getting older, but they sure as shit weren’t growing up.
Respective partners had come and gone,
most of them never able to comprehend, much less tolerate, hers and Joel’s
unique friendship, but as their jobs, and other friends and family kept them
busy and fulfilled, singledom had never particularly concerned either of them.
As far as she was concerned, at least, what would be, would be.
She enjoyed the sunshine on her skin as
she closed the gap between them, then held her breath as she came within a
couple of metres of Joel before flinging herself forward and grabbing onto his
nearest finely-muscled arm. “Gotcha!”
He yelped, jumped, snatched his arm
away and opened his eyes in a hilarious sequence, then clutched his chest and
gave her a good-natured glare, his blue eyes glinting. “Fuck’s sake, Bree!
You’re lucky I didn’t swing for you, then. I thought someone was trying to rob
me.”
“That’ll teach you to wear ludicrously
expensive watches,” she replied with a snicker.
He glanced wryly at his Patek Philippe,
then looked back at her with a grin. “Touché. Come on,” he turned around,
slipped his arm through hers and led her into the relative gloom of the pub,
“for that twattishness, first drink’s on you.”
She couldn’t argue with that reasoning.
It was still worth it, though, to see the look of pure panic cross his face.
She stifled further giggles, not wanting to inspire her friend to order the
most expensive drink he could think of, purely to get his own back. While top
of the range watches were easily within his budget, she’d had to save up for a
mid-range Fitbit.
A few minutes later, with drinks in
hand, they sat down at a table on the terrace overlooking the river and took
simultaneous sips of their chosen beverages. Brianna swallowed the mouthful of
chilled white wine, then, without meaning to, let out a long, contented sigh.
Joel raised an eyebrow as he swigged
his beer, then said, “Sounds as though you needed that. Tough week?”
“Hmm. You could say that.” She fidgeted
in her seat, getting the uncomfortable inkling she’d opened a can of worms
she’d have preferred was left undisturbed.
“Oh?” His other eyebrow jumped up to
join the first. “Do tell.”
She stared out over the river, screwed
up her nose and wafted a hand in his vague direction. “No, no, it’s work stuff.
Boring, really. Not worth talking about.”
“Bree.” He grabbed her hand, drawing
her attention to his face. His expression was earnest, his gaze intense. “Maybe
it is boring, but it’s clearly bothering you, so I want to know about
it. I’m your best friend, remember? If you can’t tell me, who can you
tell?”
She squeezed his hand, then pulled hers
away, picked up her glass and took a gulp. Swallowed, then groaned. There was
no putting the lid back on the can—she might as well come out with it. “Oh, all
right. It’s just… I don’t know… I think I’m getting a bit fed up of teaching.”
Joel spluttered into his pint, drawing
querying glances from a few of the people at tables adjacent to theirs.
Ignoring them, Joel put his drink down, wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand and gaped at her as though she’d grown a second head. “What? But you… you love
teaching!”
Nodding sadly, she replied, “I do. The
teaching part. The kids. But the rest; the planning, the admin, the assessing,
the being assessed, being micromanaged, dealing with parents, the endless
fucking meetings, the meetings about meetings, the meetings that could
have been an email… it’s getting on top of me. It wasn’t too bad before—the joy
of being in the classroom far outweighed the rest, but since the pandemic, the
shambles that is bloody Brexit and the subsequent government fuckery, things
have become steadily worse. Rules being changed, goalposts moving, budgets
being squeezed, funding getting cut, costs going up. We’re expected to work
more and more hours for the same amount of pay, with fewer support staff, yet
still uphold the same insanely high standards and have enough energy and
spark to engage and teach a class of primary school kids! It’s becoming
completely untenable. And the strike action hasn’t exactly been stress free.”
Joel gave her a sympathetic smile. “Oh,
honey, I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could say to make you feel
better. Why haven’t you mentioned this before now?”
She shrugged. “No point. All the
decisions are way above my pay grade, so there’s nothing I can do. I’ve just
been soldiering on, hoping things will improve. But right now, I honestly can’t
see an end in sight. We’re human beings, not robots, and we’re being treated
like shit. We’ve come a long way from being lauded as keyworkers, that’s for
bloody certain.” She rolled her lips inward, bit down on them, wondering
whether she should let the words on the tip of her tongue come out. She’d
barely admitted it to herself, much less anyone else. But this was Joel. He’d
have her back no matter what she said.
She took a deep breath, huffed it out again, then looked him in the eye. “I’m thinking of jacking it in at the end of term.”
Author Bio:
Lucy
Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures, Eyes Wide Open, The
Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, Curve Appeal, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including
novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name.
Find out more about her and her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree
Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services
Friday, 4 November 2022
OUT NOW: The Billionaire and the Wild Man by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse @cw1985 @victoriablisse #contemporary #billionaire #eroticromance
Flynn Gifford is enjoying a simple existence in a rural Derbyshire village when Caroline Rogers crashes into his life, barefoot and panicked.
Their lives could hardly be more different—she owns a successful luxury hotel chain, and he’s a penniless nomad who’s off the grid—yet neither can deny the attraction that burns between them. As Caroline reluctantly starts to open up to him, Flynn finds himself divulging some secrets of his own, secrets he thought he’d take to his grave.
But can a billionaire and a wild man ever make a relationship work, or will their secrets keep them apart?
PLEASE NOTE: This book has been previously published. This version has been re-edited.
📚Universal
link: https://books2read.com/billionairewild
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32520398-the-billionaire-and-the-wild-man
Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-billionaire-and-the-wild-man-a-m-f-erotic-romance-novel-by-lucy-felthouse-and-victoria-blisse
I’m
busy minding my own business, clearing up litter in a field on the outskirts of
Hartington when what can only be described as a crazy woman appears, seemingly
from nowhere. She’s all wild-eyed, and her blonde hair looks damp. Her outfit is
unremarkable, except for the fact she’s got nothing on her feet. Bright red toenails
seem massively out of place in this rural village. She seems out of place. I’m not sure why I think this, but somehow,
she just doesn’t appear to belong. So what the hell is she doing here?
Normally,
I steer clear of other folk unless it’s absolutely necessary, but this woman
looks like she needs help. If she’s crossed the road with her feet like that,
then they’re going to be scratched to buggery, maybe even cut.
Taking a deep breath, I chuck the empty crisp packet I’ve been holding into my rubbish bag. Then I place it next to the tree I’m standing beside and step out into the woman’s path. I’m used to people not seeing me—or behaving like they haven’t seen me, anyway—so I’m not surprised when she lets out a shriek that could wake the dead and freezes in front of me.
“Hey, hey,” I say gently, holding my hands up placatingly. “It’s
okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to come and see if you were all right.
I can’t help but notice you’re not wearing any shoes. You’re not hurt, are
you?” If this chick is so desperate to get away that she’s gone without shoes,
then something’s wrong. Seriously wrong.
I
look around, half-expecting to see an angry husband chasing after her, or maybe
even a shopkeeper. She could be a thief. Glancing at her again, I realise that
can’t possibly be the case, unless she’s stolen something invisible. All she
has are the clothes on her back.
She still hasn’t spoken, so I try again, attempting to make myself appear friendly, welcoming. Not an easy thing when you’re over six feet tall and pretty wide, too. Also, the tattoos, and the fact I haven’t had a change of clothes, shave, or a haircut for a while don’t help. I wouldn’t blame her if she ran away, to be honest. I must look a fright, but I haven’t peered into a mirror—or even a window—for a good few days, so I can’t be sure.
“Please answer me. Are you hurt? Is there someone after you?”
She
looks around, then back at me. Shakes her head. I’m confused—if there’s no one
after her, why did she look behind her?
I
crouch down. “Are your feet okay? Cut?”
Finally,
I get a verbal reply. “N-no. I mean, yes. They’re okay. Not cut. At least… I
don’t think so.”
She
lifts each foot in turn, checks the soles. So do I. They’re fine. Now she’s
answered another of my questions, too. Her accent doesn’t sound local. More
like southern England. London, perhaps.
I
suppress an involuntary shudder. The thought of London, the big, dirty, smoky
city, does not impress me. Horrible bloody place. But at least it explains why
the blonde doesn’t fit in. She’s not from around here.
Naturally,
I still have a million and one questions, but I don’t know how to ask them
without bombarding or intimidating her. Not to mention that really, I have no
right to know the answers. I’m a total stranger. But there’s something about
her, about her appearance—and I don’t just mean the lack of footwear—that makes
me want to help her. Or at least get her back where she came from, which is
clearly somewhere in the village. She certainly hasn’t come far, as otherwise
her feet would be filthy and bleeding.
What the hell is she doing here?
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her and her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree
Victoria Blisse (she/her) is known as the Queen of Smut, Reverend to the kinky and is the Writer in Residence at Cocktails and Fuck Tales. She’s also an angel. Ask anyone. She can often be found in a local BDSM club, running events such as Smut Market or asking mean people to be wonderfully mean to her. Mancunian Odd Duck, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure. Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life. Find out more at http://victoriablisse.co.uk
Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services
Friday, 30 October 2020
OUT NOW IN AUDIO - Moonstone by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 Narrated by Frankie Holland @voiceoffholland #eroticromance #reverseharem #audiobooks
Blurb:
Christmas gifts aren’t the only
surprises Ginny is going to get this year.
Moonstone Guinevere ‘Ginny’ Miles is in Silver Springs visiting her parents for the holidays. They moved to the town five years ago, and adore their new life here. Used to the hustle and bustle of London, England, Ginny isn’t convinced at first—what’s so great about a small town in Upstate New York, anyway? Despite her own opinions, it’s clear to Ginny the move has done her parents the world of good—they look years younger. There’s clearly something magical about this town.
Following some exploration of her own, Ginny discovers Silver Springs has its charms—Jewels Cafe is amazing, for starters, as is its pumpkin spice latte. Ginny’s drunk a lot of lattes in her thirty-three years, but nothing quite like this.
Her taste buds are still tingling from the tasty treat when she comes across a broken-down truck on the way back to her parents’ place. And when she spots the three gorgeous guys with the vehicle, it’s not just her taste buds that are tingling.
Is Ginny’s vacation in Silver Springs about to get a whole lot more interesting?
Moonstone is a standalone contemporary reverse harem romance. It is part of the Jewels Cafe series.
Listen here:
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2Hx4r5p
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2HA8TAm
Audible UK: https://adbl.co/2TxNl9G
Audible US: https://adbl.co/35GfO2P
Authors Direct: https://shop.authors-direct.com/products/moonstone-a-contemporary-reverse-harem-romance
Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/audiobook/id1528498339
Barnes & Noble: https://www.nookaudiobooks.com/audiobook/1019852/Moonstone
Chirp: https://www.chirpbooks.com/audiobooks/moonstone-by-lucy-felthouse
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/audiobook/moonstone-10
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/audiobooks/details/Lucy_Felthouse_Moonstone?id=AQAAAEAcwgSCCM
HiBooks: https://www.hibooks.com/discover/audiobook/moonstone-1
Hoopla: https://www.hoopladigital.com/title/13581172
Scribd: https://www.scribd.com/audiobook/473165358/Moonstone-A-Contemporary-Reverse-Harem-Romance
*The audiobook is also available via many library systems, so if you listen through your library, please do contact them and find out if Moonstone can be added to their catalogue!
Excerpt:
Moonstone
Guinevere Miles—known as Ginny to people who didn’t want to incur her fierce
and everlasting wrath—heaved her suitcase off the luggage reclaim belt with an
“Oof!” and placed it on the floor, a sigh of relief escaping her. At least the
thing had wheels—she didn’t really have the energy for carrying a heavy
suitcase all the way through Customs and out to Arrivals. The long, tiring
flight had seen to that.
No matter
how much she tried, no matter how exhausted she was, she simply could not fall
asleep on a plane. Ever. Eye mask, ear plugs, meditation, bloody whale
music—nothing helped. She’d long since resigned herself to staying awake while
snores from other passengers emanated around the cabin. At least it had only
been about seven and a half hours since taking off from Heathrow—she couldn’t
imagine what state she’d be in if she ever flew any longer than that—to
Australia, New Zealand or somewhere.
Doubtful
that would ever happen, though. It had taken long enough for her to get her
backside out to the east coast of America, where her parents had been running a
retreat since retiring five years ago. But then, things were different now,
weren’t they? Which was why she was even here in the first place—it wouldn’t
have been possible otherwise.
Thinking
of her parents brought an inevitable smile to her face, and inserted a little
more spring in her step. Despite the energy and mood suck that had been the
flight, she was excited to be here. She was eager to see her parents, and to
find out exactly what they’d built up over the last five years. She’d seen
photos and videos, but it wasn’t the same as actually being there.
When
they’d first announced they were using their retirement nest egg to open a
retreat in Upstate New York, she’d been floored. Who the hell retires, only to
take on a massive project like that? Surely the whole point of retiring is to
wind down, enjoy some free time, relax? But no, her mum and dad—who, to be
fair, had never been what one would call conventional—had set their hearts on
it. They’d had a huge purge of their belongings, sold their cars and house, and
jetted off across the pond, leaving Ginny shocked and not a little bereft.
She’d been used to having them close by and had quickly realized just how much
she’d taken that for granted.
At the
same time, her career as a chef had taken off and she’d become so busy that her
parents’ sudden distance hadn’t made the blindest bit of difference. She barely
saw the inside of her own flat, never mind her friends and family. This was the
first Christmas she’d had off work since then, too, and she was looking forward
to spending it with her parents more than she could put into words. They’d been
big on the festive period ever since she was a baby, and as such, Ginny’s brain
was stuffed full of warm, fuzzy memories of Christmases past. They’d been
useful to get her through the last five crappy ones, too, where a microwaved ready
meal was the best she could hope for, if she hadn’t managed to wangle a free
meal from the place she’d been working at at the time.
Her smile
widened, and she walked faster still—God, just how big is this bloody
airport?—desperate to see her mum and dad and start the Christmas holiday with
a bang. Anticipation rushed through her. They’d have turkey and roast potatoes,
pigs in blankets, mounds of vegetables, desserts laden with enough calories to
last them until Valentine’s Day, Christmas carols, amazing decorations, a
beautiful tree, fairy lights…
And Santa
Claus. Two of them, in fact, jumping up and down enthusiastically and waving
wildly at her, with not a rotund belly in sight.
Ginny was
so excited, she couldn’t even be bothered with the embarrassment she might have
felt at being greeted in a public place by her parents dressed up in Santa
outfits. Plus, nobody knew her here anyway, so who cared?
She
scurried around the barrier, almost flipping her case in her haste to turn a
corner, then covered the remaining distance between them in seconds flat and
released the handle of her suitcase. A series of squeals and exclamations went
up—from all three of them—and then everything went dark as Ginny was enveloped
in a warm, fluffy embrace, her face crushed up against what she suspected was
the white fur trim on her mother’s jacket, and kisses rained down on her. It
was all she could do to suck in oxygen as she was squeezed and squeezed them
right back. She was assailed by the scents of clean clothes, shampoo, perfume,
and cologne—all perfectly lovely smells by themselves, but somewhat
overwhelming all at once. Unintelligible murmurings reached her ears, but she
didn’t bother to reply since she had no idea what was being said. And she
didn’t need words, anyway. All she needed at that moment in time was to soak up
the enormous outpouring of love she was experiencing.
She was so bloody happy, she thought she might pop.
Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter
Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services