Always Cambridge

Always Cambridge
Follow the saga from the beginning... Always Cambridge

Thursday, 17 January 2019

Book Tour + #Giveaway - Mafia Boss - by Khardine Gray #MafiaRomance #99cents

Mafia Boss

The Accidental Mafia Queen Book 1
Khardine Gray 

Contemporary Mafia Romance

Better to be at the right hand of the devil than in his path…

When you come from a crime family, you have a name to live up to.

My  enemies know I'm a bastard who shows no mercy—exactly the
cold-hearted don my father would want me to be. Except we're not the
one's in charge. Yet…

The Boss wants me to take over his billion dollar business, and the only
way that's happening is if I can win the heart of his cop daughter.

I planned to treat her just like all the other women who meant nothing
to me, but everything about her is tempting. Her beauty, her body,
her soul.

Money and Power. That’s all this was supposed to be
about… Falling in love wasn't part of the plan.

Neither was finding out that her father has a hidden agenda, and I’m just a pawn in his game.

MAFIA BOSS is The Godfather and The Sopranos with the sexy edge of a
drool-worthy Alpha male. Fans of R.R. Banks and Vi Keeland are gonna
love this...

**Only .99 cents!!**

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo

Khardine Gray is a contemporary romance author who lives in England with her husband, two kids, and three crazy ferrets.

She is well traveled, cultured, and a woman with a passion for dancing and ice skating.

When not writing you can catch her shopping, indulging on pizza and hot chocolate, or hanging out with her family and friends.

No need to spend money on an airline ticket. Simply pick up one of Khardine's books to become immersed in the fascinating stories and characters she creates.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!

Wednesday, 16 January 2019

Out Now - Sapphic Seduction - by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 #sapphic #lesfic #erotica #lesbian


If you enjoy short tales of ladies loving each other, then get your hands on this collection from the pen of award-winning author Lucy Felthouse.

From Zumba classes to army basic training, surfer chicks to mechanics, and even a lost dog, this book has variety galore. There’s something for everyone, and will have you eager to turn just one more page.

Enjoy twelve titillating tales, over 45,000 words of Sapphic delight.
Please note: The stories in this anthology have been previously published.

Buy links:


Verity’s phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her of an angry—and insistent—bee. Sighing, she pulled the device out and looked at the screen. Rolling her eyes, she rejected the call, then pressed the off button. Fuck her family and their petty dramas—she did enough for them, and they never appreciated it. Let them deal with their own shit for a change. She’d come here for some peace and solitude, and that was what she was damn well going to get.

After showing her membership card to the kindly old lady at the kiosk, Verity passed through the gate and into the gardens of Biddulph Grange. The beautiful stately home, sadly, was private, but the stunning landscaped gardens were open to the public. The place was already off the beaten track—nestled as it was, deep in the Staffordshire countryside—but once Verity stepped inside the huge gardens, she felt a million miles from anywhere.

Closing her eyes momentarily, she pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils, and released it from her mouth. Already she felt better, the stress and irritation seeping out of her and disappearing into the gravelled path beneath her feet. This place was her refuge, her sanctuary. She never told anyone where she went when she disappeared off for a few hours every couple of weeks—more often if her family was being more difficult than usual—and that was the beauty of it. No one knew where she was, no one could bother her. All she had was herself and the cacophony of nature within the garden walls, and that was precisely how she wanted it.

Letting out a contented sigh this time, she shut out all the unpleasant thoughts, emptying her mind, and concentrated only on what was around her. What she could see, what she could hear, what she could smell.

Her favourite thing about the gardens—aside from their being her escape—was the fact they seemed to look different every time she visited. Nature took its course: trees and bushes grew, plants flowered, leaves turned and dropped. New plants were introduced, old or diseased ones were removed.

The wildlife was wonderful, too. A huge variety of birds fluttered, swooped and hopped around, tweeting, twittering and singing. Butterflies and squirrels also made frequent appearances. They never failed to make Verity smile, and today was no exception. A further weight was lifted from her as her lips curved into a grin, and she breathed in deeply through her nostrils. The air smelled fresh, yet something lingered, hinting at something to come.

Verity tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. Hmm, that could be it. There was a thick covering of cloud, not particularly ominous-looking, but then that was British weather for you. It could, and did, change in the blink of an eye.

Shrugging, Verity carried on walking. She was here now—she wasn’t going to leave just in case it rained. Even if it did, so what? A little rain never killed anyone. It could actually be kind of refreshing.

Putting one foot in front of the other, she followed her nose through the landscape, admiring everything she saw, and exchanging polite nods and smiles with the handful of people she met. And it was only a handful. Perhaps others had checked the weather forecast before coming out and had been deterred. More fool them.

On the other hand, though, she thanked them. It meant she had the place pretty much to herself. Smiling, she allowed her imagination to run away with itself, painting a picture of a scenario where Verity owned the stately home currently hidden from view, and was wandering in her own private gardens. Every tree, every bush, every flower, every blade of grass was on her land, and she loved it. Having such an amazing place to call her own… well, she knew how lucky she was.

She was snapped out of her grand and wonderful fantasy by something that didn’t look quite right. Blinking, she focussed on whatever it was over to her left-hand side that seemed to stand out like a sore thumb. She frowned and stepped closer, still not entirely sure what she was seeing. Though it definitely wasn’t a thumb, sore or otherwise.

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at, 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:

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services

Tuesday, 15 January 2019

Book Tour + #Giveaway - Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love Series - by Chiquita Dennie #MafiaRomance

Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love 1
Chiquita Dennie

Contemporary Mafia Romance

One moment is all it took to ignite a love affair neither would soon forget.

Nothing and no one could tear Antonio and Sabrina apart, no matter how hard they tried. Ex-lovers, angry family members, jealous rivals tried and failed. But they're not the only threats to this match made in
passion. Antonio has secrets - secrets that could force them to sever
ties forever. When the danger hits too close to home, he's forced to
face his demons and keep her safe from harm.

With more obstacles against them than they can count, will they ever have their happily-ever-after?

Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love 2

Sabrina Washington has worked hard to get what she wants in life. The last thing the sassy, headstrong VP executive wants is an Alpha male who breaks all the rules, but when she meets Antonio De Luca, her steely façade starts to crumble under his gaze. He's exactly the kind of
man who can unravel her straight-shooting reputation and she's not so
convinced that's a bad thing. As they grow closer, her ability to resist her desires begins to waver. Soon, she finds herself immersed in his sexy and dangerous world and she's not sure she wants to go back to her old life...

Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love 3

Antonio and Sabrina think they’ve put the worst behind them. They’re
ready to begin the next chapter of their lives, but forces beyond their control have other plans for them. Before either can settle into their new roles of parent and newly-minted Don of the De Luca Cartel, people from their sordid pasts take their vengeance a step further.

Distinguishing friend from foe, acquaintances from hired guns is only the beginning of the trouble they’ll face. If Antonio can’t bring this madness to an end, he may very well lose not only his new title, but lose the family he fought so hard for.

Will their unimaginable love story end in tragedy or will their shared will to survive see them through?

Janice and Carlo- Captivated by His Love
Spinoff of Antonio and Sabrina Struck in Love Series

Janice is on a new path after graduating college and living her dreams in the corporate world. She’s managed to handle the dating world with no commitments. After her last relationship in college ended abruptly, she wants to focus on herself and build a solid foundation. Unfortunately for her, the return of her ex-boyfriend isn’t getting her any closer to that goal.

When she meets Carlo, a mob boss who’s as sexy as he is deadly, she can’t help but be intrigued. But his lifestyle is at direct odds with what she wants in life and love. Carlo, however, isn’t making
things easy for her.

She could choose to walk away, but will her decision lead to heartache or to a happily-ever-after?

Adult Content, steamy sex scenes, violence, sensitive subjects for
some readers cause trigger, Spinoff from Antonio and Sabrina series.
Recommended to read the Antonio and Sabrina series first for context.
Can be read as a standalone.

Chiquita Dennie is an author and entrepreneur. Born in Memphis, TN, and currently a Los Angeles CA native. Her background in film/tv has taught and shaped her passion for writing with her debut romance novel Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love. Since its debut, fans have embraced the unconventional love story of Sabrina Washington and Antonio De Luca making Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love an Amazon Best Seller #5 for Book 1 and #4 for Book 2 on Kindle charts.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, 10 January 2019

Sesto and Syn are back in the re-release of - If You Can't Handle the Heat #erotic #contemporary #romance

If You Can’t Handle the Heat
H K Carlton

Release Date: December 28, 2018

Welcome to the relaunch of If You Can't Handle the Heat, and my first foray into self-publishing. I'm so excited to once again share this story with my readers. With some added content, it has been re-edited and re-formatted for re-release, along with a cover re-vamp designed by the incredible Emmy from Studioenp

An unlikely couple is brought together as celebrity judges on a new reality-based cooking show.

Sesto Théodore, is an arrogant yet well respected American-Italian chef, with several five-star restaurants.

Once bitten, twice shy, Syn Fully, is a jaded author of erotica, rocketing her way up all the best sellers lists.

From the moment Syn and Sesto meet, their personalities clash, yet behind the scenes sparks fly. Getting together would be a recipe for disaster, but hot sex with no-strings couldn’t hurt. At least not until real feelings get involved.

But just when Syn considers opening her damaged heart to the cocky chef, video of rather personal content is leaked online. Sesto immediately jumps to conclusions and accuses Syn of the privacy breach.

Can the arrogant chef forgive and forget, or will his pride leave him out in the cold?

Somebody’s about to get burned…

Possible Triggers: Please note one scene contains borderline bdsm and dubious consent/forcible confinement. Also in this story intimate video is obtained without the knowledge or consent of the participants involved, and later distributed online

Author’s Note: This erotic story has been previously published with the title, If You Can’t Stand the Heat. Though there is a little bit of added content, the story remains relatively the same. It has been re-edited and re-formatted for re-release, and has a sizzling new cover thanks to Studioenp

* * * Purchase your copy HERE * * *

Chapter One

Sesto Théodore walked confidently through the atrium lobby of the swanky New York hotel, one of three celebrity judges, about to shoot a pilot episode for the newest reality show competition.

Protégés, was a lame imitation of the cooking channel’s popular Hacked, as far as Sesto was concerned. But if the network was willing to pay him an exorbitant amount of money to insult young chefs and kill their dreams, who was he to argue?

Sesto had paid his dues and slugged his way through culinary school the hard way, without having to pimp out his talents for twenty-five grand on some pathetic TV show. Instead, he’d methodically achieved everything he’d set out to do in his career, including owning his own restaurants, all of which boasted five-star ratings. He was handsome, rich—a rock-star in the culinary world. Women quite literally got on their knees for a man who could cook. “And they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!” Sesto chuckled to himself as he pulled open the door to the convention center.

Flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the shoulder of his designer suit coat, Sesto glanced at the judge’s table where the other two celebs were supposed to be seated by now. He’d been fashionably late on purpose, intending to make them wait on him. But, foiled again, besides the camera crew, the contestants, and the harassed-looking producer, Sesto was the only judge present.

* * * *

Surreptitiously, Syn Fully, slipped unnoticed onto the Protégés set. With the help of some large artificial potted ferns as cover, she observed the scene before her. As a writer, she was an avid people watcher. But for today she was intent on getting the lay of the land, and a good look at the people she would be working with.

This whole proposal—or conspiracy, Syn hadn’t decided which yet—had been an underhanded collaboration between her assistant and her agent. Starring in a reality show wasn’t something Syn would have elected to do on her own. But between her two colleagues, they’d convinced her the exposure would be good for her career, and garner a bit of free publicity, not to mention, her fans would eat it up, so to speak.

The entire kitchen area impressed her. It appeared quite professional. One worry quashed. This was only a pilot episode, and she knew certain aspects would get streamlined if the network decided to pick up the show. But she didn’t want to be involved in a second rate production. Preferring to hide behind her pen, up until now, Syn hadn’t done any television. Other than a few guest spots on talk-radio where she’d shared some steamy excerpts from her latest release, and a couple of photo shoots for jacket covers, she maintained a low profile. Syn even kept conventions, book signings, and special appearances to a bare minimum.

A small commotion to her left brought Syn out of her musings, and she finally caught sight of the man that the Protégés show had been adapted for.

Sesto Théodore, strode across the conference room, exuding self-confidence. Syn had done a little research on the man before she’d agreed to work with him. She and her personal assistant, Sam, had watched some of the chef’s interviews. And Syn had reached out to several mutual friends who had worked with him in the past. By all accounts and reputation, he was an arrogant asshole and difficult to work with. But in addition, he was an expert in his field, renowned and respected as a chef and restaurateur. A perfectionist, he demanded the same from everyone around him. Syn could respect that.

One thing she hadn’t bargained for though, was how deliciously handsome he was in person. He not only conveyed self-assurance, but with his size he also radiated power, and possessed an animal magnetism that was undeniable. With a critical eye, Syn gave him a full body-scan, the kind of subjective once-over she often used when selecting a suitable cover model for one of her book jackets. Unquestionably, Sesto Théodore could fill out a suit quite like no other.

Syn caught herself biting on the tip of her index finger. Sam, often teased her about the bad habit. Apparently, it was something she did while she was writing, mainly when she was plotting out a particularly steamy sex scene. It would seem Chef Théodore’s good looks had just become author fodder for another time. Suddenly, sitting next to him for the next week or so didn’t seem like such a chore.

Syn watched on with interest as Sesto approached the unsuspecting crew.

“Where is Ms. Fully?” The producer ranted.

“Her PA assures me she’s on the way, Mr. Parks,” said one of the production assistants.

“And the Russian hockey player?” Parks demanded.

“He just entered the lobby.”

“Good. And the over-inflated chef? What’s his name? Theodore? Where’s he?”

Syn chewed her lip, stifling a good chuckle, when the producer butchered the gourmet chef’s surname.

“Um, uhhh,” one of the production assistants stuttered, as he gestured over the producer’s shoulder, to the over-inflated chef in question.

Sesto stared down at his well-groomed fingernails and drawled, “It’s pronounced Tee-a-door. And if you ever refer to me in such a manner again, I will walk. And you’d best remember I’m the only credible judge you’ve got here. What do a hockey player and a trashy romance novelist know about food?”

That was her cue. Syn stepped out from behind the greenery.

“We both eat, Mr. Théodore,” she said, in what she hoped was a haughty tone.

* * * *

Sesto scrutinized the owner of the sultry voice. An exotic brunette stared up at him, challengingly. She wore a red come-fuck-me dress that dipped almost to her navel. Her lovely breasts spilled appealingly out the sides of the form-fitting halter. Sesto clenched his hands into fists, fighting the urge to reach out and caress some creamy side-boob. What on earth did women do before double-sided tape?

“I believe owning taste buds is qualification enough,” she continued insolently, snapping him out of his reverie.

Reluctantly, Sesto pried his gaze from her magnificent pale tits, long enough to look at her face.

She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. In that one exchange, he was certain she knew precisely where his dirty little mind had been. But that was her fault. A woman couldn’t possibly slip into a dress like that and then expect scintillating conversation.

“Sesto, may I call you Sesto?” Parks, the producer interrupted. Then not waiting for a response, he said, “This is your fellow judge, Ms. Syn Fully.”

Sesto snorted in disdain. In part, because he found the pen-name quite comical, and secondly, he couldn’t believe a grown woman would go around calling herself such a ridiculous pseudonym. In the beginning of his career, he’d considered changing his name because people botched the pronunciation all the time. But he discarded the idea, he was proud of his American-Italian background. Besides he enjoyed correcting people. And even if they mangled his name, they always remembered it.

“Seriously, you couldn’t come up with a better alias as far as romance novelists go?” Sesto mocked.

“Laugh if you will Mr. Théodore, but no one ever forgets my name,” she replied, as if she’d just read his thought. Although she’d pronounced it wrong, too, coming from her full beautiful lips, he found he didn’t mind. She’d said Tay-a-door with a bit of an accent, giving it an almost French nuance. Nevertheless, he’d still correct her just to be an ass.

“Yeah, after they quit busting a gut,” he returned. “I’m sure mommy and daddy Fully are incredibly proud of the titillating mommy-porn you push down despondent women’s throats. And I can assure you, it’s not your name they’re remembering.” Blatantly, he dropped his gaze to her ample bosom. “And it’s Tee-a-door,” he said slowly as if she were not overly bright.

Simultaneously, Syn rolled her shapely shoulder, while trailing her tongue over the line of her full bottom lip. Sesto’s cock jerked as he followed the mesmerizing gesture closely.

The woman was carefully made up. Her green eyes were dramatically shadowed with sweeping black lashes and darkly lined to give her a catlike gaze. Yet her lips were totally bare, devoid of any color save the richness of natural pigment. He liked that. One would expect flashy red lipstick to go along with the crimson French-tip fingernails and the cherry fuck-me dress.

“And just for the record, I’m not a romance novelist, Chef Tay-a-door.” This time she said his last name slowly, as if he was the unintelligent one, and there was no doubt she’d deliberately mispronounced it. “I write erotica, pure sex. Screw romance.”

With that strident pronouncement she turned away, giving him an excellent view of her bare back.

Damn, I wish she’d worn that dress backwards. His gaze was drawn to the curve of her slim waist. Fortunately, his hands were still in fists. Though it didn’t stop him from wanting to skim his fingers up her spine. Would she shiver at my touch or slap my damn smug face?

“Ahh, I see,” Sesto retorted. “So Syn actually stands for cynical, not sinful.”

She barely afforded him a glance over her shoulder, instead, Ms. Fully greeted the newly arrived hockey player—standing on the tips of her stilettos she placed a kiss on his cheek. Sesto wondered why she hadn’t given him a nice little peck.

“It’s been a long time, Kiska,” the toothless athlete said in stilted English, then he placed a kiss to each of her cheeks.

Kiska. If memory served him correctly, the endearment meant kitten.

“It’s been years, Maksim,” Syn gushed.

Sesto detected a smile in the author’s voice and perhaps even some genuine affection for the big Russian. Not at all the chilly tone she’d reserved for him.

“Yes, at least three. You were still with Dmitri, when I was traded. I was sorry to hear it ended. But not too sorry.” He smiled at her as if he’d like to take her home.

Like a simpering idiot, the set’s little gopher-boy hovered at the statuesque brunette’s elbow. “Here’s some water for you, Ms. Fully.”

Turning, she smiled down at the kid. “Thank you…Chase, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call me Syn. I only insist the clientele call me ma’am,” she said with a wink, giving the impression she not only wrote stories about kink but she also lived them.

“Yes, ma’am,” the kid stuttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sesto resisted the urge to do the same.

What is it about this woman? Yes, she was lovely and she had a bangin’ body, but he’d been with beautiful women before. Nonetheless, it would seem the athlete, the key grip, and the chef, all had hard-ons for the erotica writer.

Was that it? Men assumed because she wrote about it, she could dish it out? No harm in finding out.

The producer along with the director approached and began to explain what was expected. It was shaping up to be a long day of waiting around while the contestants cooked.

“I’m Ken, the director. So if you’ll take your seats, we’ll have the host introduce you on camera, we’ll present the competitors and then while they cook, you can have some down time or you’re free to watch them prepare what you’ll be sampling. There will be four rounds, an appetizer, a soup, a main, and a dessert. You will eliminate a contestant after every round. When there are only two contestants left, we have a surprise for them, when our own Chef Théodore will prepare a meal. Each competitor will be given the unenviable task of duplicating his dish by taste alone, as they will be sequestered while he cooks. The one closest to Chef’s recipe will be our winner and the final decision will be his, given that the victor will also gain a position in Chef’s most recent restaurant. Any questions?”

“Good,” Ken said when all three judges shook their heads. He then pulled out the middle chair at the evaluation table. “Syn.”

While she elegantly took a seat, Ken leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She grinned and stared down at the tabletop, giving no hint anything untoward had just been mumbled into her ear. Most likely she was used to men talking dirty to her.

Sesto sat next to her.

“Have you been properly introduced to Maksim, Chef Tay-a-door?” The huskiness in Syn’s voice went straight to his groin.

“No, and there’s no need. The host is about to do so,” Sesto responded in short.

Syn turned to the hockey puck with legs, and whispered to him. Maks threw his blond head back and roared at whatever she’d said. Then the two of them focused on him. It was nice that they were having a laugh at his expense.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Ms. Fully?” Sesto asked, coldly.

“Mmm, I usually don’t like to share with strangers. At least not until I’ve known them more than ten minutes. But if you insist.”

She tapped her pointy little tongue repeatedly on the center of her upper lip before answering. Sesto was fascinated by the action, and almost forgot the question.

“I said that you looked like you could use a good blow job. Release some of that obvious tension,” Syn said straight faced.

Sesto’s cock swelled not only at her words, but also that crazy thing she’d done with her tongue. Fuck! How was he to maintain a cool demeanor when he felt like she’d just licked his dick?

“Save your crass vocabulary for your adoring yet easily stimulated fans, Ms. Fully, it won’t work on me.”

The corner of her mouth quirked and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really,” she breathed as if she damn well knew the painful state she had him in. “I almost wish to verify your quick denial for myself, Chef Tay-a-dor.” He watched her plump lips as she enunciated his name.

Fisting his hands, so that he wouldn’t be tempted to grab one of hers and place it in his crotch, and prove she was absolutely correct in her assumption—instead he addressed the director. “Can we get on with this?”

“Places everyone,” Ken called.

The host appeared wearing a cheap suit. He looked more like a used car salesman.

“That’s not going to work.” Sesto pointed. “Get him a decent suit. And if he opens his mouth and sounds like a cheesy game show host, I’m walking. I will not be associated with the circus this production is shaping up to be.”

Patience gone, Sesto stood and tucked his hands in his trouser pockets. “Washed up athletes, half-dressed trashy novelists, and a garish emcee,” he mumbled. “I was looking for some class and sophistication not a spectacle. Don’t forget whose name is on that marquee.” He waved in the direction of the sign above the temporary kitchen.

“Yes, sir, Chef,” Ken said in a rush. “We’ll take care of it.”

Sesto had half a mind to call his agent. This was bullshit. What the hell had he gotten him into? He’d be a laughingstock among the other television chefs.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he remembered lambasting other top culinary experts when they’d first done shows similar to Protégés. Why was he doing this? He certainly didn’t need the money. But his agent thought it might help the public’s perception of him. He thought his public image was just fine.

Sunday, 30 December 2018

Good With His Hands - by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 #romance #steamy #shortstory

Good With His Hands
Lucy Felthouse


Layla is enjoying a beautiful moorland walk in the English countryside when suddenly, clouds start to roll in. The weather was forecast to be fine all day, so Layla is woefully unprepared when the heavens open and her visibility is reduced to next to nothing. Trying hard not to panic, she carefully makes her way towards a remote hut she spotted before the fog descended. When she arrives, though, she discovers park ranger Stuart already there, and luckily for her, he’s much more prepared than she is, and they soon find a way to pass the time until the storm blows over.

Note: Good With His Hands was previously published in the Down and Dirty boxed set. 

Buy links 


Anticipation seeped into Layla’s body, increasing with every second that ticked by. Each handhold she groped for, each push off with her feet brought her that bit closer to the moorland plateau she’d been wanting to explore ever since she’d seen photos of it in a Facebook group a few weeks ago. She was a keen hiker—or walker, she’d never really understood what the difference was between the two—but she’d always stuck to places she knew well, or had at least visited a couple of times before, mainly because she always walked alone, and getting lost was bad enough without doing it by yourself.

But one Sunday evening, after a flurry of yet more stunning photographs of the area had been uploaded to the group, Layla made up her mind. The following Sunday, she would join the seemingly scores of people that headed up to the dramatic-looking gritstone edge in Derbyshire’s Peak District every weekend, no matter the weather. Hikers, climbers, fell runners… they all raved about the place, despite the crowds. And if she did get lost, well, she’d just ask one of them for directions. No problem. Then, providing it was indeed as amazing as the photo-uploaders proclaimed it to be, she’d add it to her list of regular haunts. It’d make a refreshing change from her usual low-level trail walks.

Now she was beginning to understand what all the fuss was about, and she wasn’t even at the top yet. After leaving the relative familiarity of the car park, she’d trekked up a slight incline through some dense woods—surprised to pass only one or two small groups of people on the way. She’d expected it to look like London’s Oxford Street but with outdoorsy types in hefty boots and backpacks instead of shoppers with umbrellas and carrier bags. The moment she’d stepped from the shadow of the woods, the landscape had opened up in front of her and she’d got a real sense of how special it was. Then she’d glanced up and to her right and, taking in the height of the edge she had yet to climb, realised she hadn’t seen the half of it yet.

With one last push to get her onto a particularly large boulder, then a small step, she was there. On the gritstone edge, the moorland plateau—whatever you wanted to call it. As she took a couple of tentative steps forward and looked around, she decided she wanted to call it heaven. It was like nowhere she’d ever been before—so removed from everyday life that she was half convinced she’d stepped onto the moon, except it was unmistakably England. Wild, untamed, rugged, but England nonetheless. How had she never been up here before? And were there more places like it? She suddenly felt like the worst kind of ignorant city dweller—her walks up until now had made a mockery of wearing walking boots. She may as well have done it in flip flops.

She turned at the sound of voices behind her, and moved aside to let a group of three men in their early twenties pass. They had enormous, weirdly-shaped bags strapped to their backs, and yet strode along—exchanging smiles and nods with her when they drew level—as though their burdens weighed nothing.

Layla shook her head incredulously and started to follow in their footsteps. She didn’t need to consult her walk instructions yet—there was only one path, deliberately keeping footfall to a dedicated area for conservation purposes, according to a snippet of text she remembered reading on her printout. The trail stayed close to the edge—not so close as to be dangerous, but close enough to afford the most amazing views. The ground beneath her feet was made up of mud, rough grasses, rocks and boulders in shades of grey, brown, and black, scrubby bushes, and what she suspected was heather. To her left, the stunning countryside went on for as far as the eye could see, with delightfully twisted trees in the foreground, followed by brown and green fields, woodlands, moorlands, and more fields, broken up only very occasionally by a road—often only identifiable by the moving glint of light that passed along them—vehicles highlighted by the reflection of the sun off their metalwork. It’d be incredibly easy to forget civilisation even existed while she was up here.


Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at, 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:

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services

Wednesday, 26 December 2018

Kick-Start the New Year with fantastic Deals @IHeartLesfic ‏

Sale runs December 26th to December 30th
Check out all the incredible books @ I Heart Lesfic

In the Flesh - is .99¢ @ Amazon and @ Pride Publishing
[lesbian, erotic, romance]

Working undercover, nothing is ever as it seems…

Assigned the unenviable task of taking down the untouchable Travino crime family, undercover ATF Agent Kate Benson and her veteran partner Mike Pennington are thrown into the seedy underworld of organized crime.

Kate is asked to draw on her past experience as a dancer and infiltrate one of Travino’s skin clubs, In the Flesh.

Posing as Vivienne, Kate meets exotic dancer Carly. From the moment they first dance together, she can’t seem to keep her mind or her greedy hands off the dynamic dancer. Together they sizzle on stage and off. She soon realizes she’s falling for Carly but knows from past experience that beginning a relationship built on half-truths is a recipe for failure.

As Kate attempts to straddle the line between doing her job and being as honest as she can be with Carly, while still maintaining her cover, Kate and Mike are caught snooping around the club after hours by none other than the mob boss himself.

And Kate knows there’s not a two-step in the world that can save them now.

To coincide with this fantastic sale at I Heart Lesfic, the Ladies Only Anthology—in which, In the Flesh, was originally a part of—is also ON SALE at Amazon US and Amazon UK, with stories from: Lucy Felthouse, Cari Z, Helena Maeve, R.A. Pamos and me! 

‘Worth a Shot’ by Cari Z

‘The Woman Next Door’ by Helena Maeve

‘The Tiny Blue House’ by R.A. Padmos

‘In the Flesh’ by HK Carlton

‘Window Dressing’ by Lucy Felthouse

Be sure to check out all the awesome stories and talented lesfic authors during the I Heart Les Fic Holiday Mega Sale, ongoing from December 26th to December 30th. You'll find some extraordinary deals to heat up your e-reader, from free reads, to .99¢ and up.

A big thank you to TB Markinson!

Happy New Year, Everyone!