Submitting to the Cattleman by Blitz & Giveaway

Submitting to the Cattleman

B.J. Wane

(Cowboy Doms, #6)

Published by: Blushing Books Publications

Publication date: December 10th 2019

Genres: Adult, Romance

Why does doing the right thing have to be so hard?

Leslie Collins has been asking herself that question ever since her eye-witness testimony in a murder case landed her in the Witness Protection Program far away from everything and everyone she’s ever known. Now, four years later, she struggles with growing despondency over the circumstances that prevent her from forming a relationship. When she allows her loneliness to get the better of her and indulges in a one-night stand, she never dreams her stranger will show up again at the private club she’s stayed away from for a few weeks.

Kurt Wilcox returns home to Montana to help his father recover from a stroke and hopefully mend the rift between them. He doesn’t plan on rescuing a woman from a mugging and ending up succumbing to the loneliness reflected on her face and indulging in a one-night stand. When he meets up with Leslie at his club, he refuses to let her hide her identity or her reasons for inviting a stranger into her home and bed.

Leslie finally caves to his persistence and agrees to an affair that seems promising until she learns her identity has been comprised and an attempt on her life forces out the truth about her past. Will putting her trust in her Dom jeopardize him and his employees when she agrees to his protection, or will Kurt rid her of the threat against her, as he promises, leaving her free to embrace her own HEA?

This is book six in the Cowboy Doms series but can be enjoyed as a standalone.

Publisher’s Note: This contemporary, western romance contains elements of mystery, suspense, danger, power exchange, BDSM, and sensual scenes. If any of these bother you, please do not purchase.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Leslie should have known by now wallowing in self-pity never helped. She took a moment to eye the man at the bar again, this time catching a glimpse of his rugged profile beneath the black Stetson, a straight nose and the sardonic curl of one side of his mouth as a young woman approached him. His reply to whatever come-on she whispered in his ear sent her trouncing off in a huff. Leslie wondered how low her spirits would have to sink before she approached a stranger with a needy proposition. Maybe, if one look stirred her juices the same as eying that man, she wouldn’t mind the rash, desperate act so much. If nothing else, a night indulging in sex with a stranger would alleviate the loneliness for a short time, give her something else to think about.

By the time she downed two more drinks, stood to leave and the room spun around her, she realized she should have paid more attention to her alcohol intake. I can do this as long as I go slow. Since she wasn’t about to call one of her co-workers to drive her the few blocks back home, she forced herself to walk a straight path toward the door. She made it with only one stumble and as she breathed in the warm summer air, her woozy senses calmed a bit.

At least, Leslie thought her head had cleared enough to drive until she teetered through the well-lit parking lot in search of her car and rammed her hip into the bumper of a massive pickup truck. Swearing under her breath, she pushed away and wobbled toward the sidewalk she could follow straight to her apartment door. With her inebriated head bemoaning the return to her lonely apartment she never heard or saw the punk purse snatcher sneak up behind her until he tried pulling her bag from her grasp.

“Hey!” she cried out with a desperate tug to keep hold of her purse. “Leave me alone!” Tears welled as frustration over everything shook her.

The kid, who looked all of sixteen, took umbrage of Leslie daring to fight back and stunned her further with a back-handed swing that landed her on the concrete with a jarring thud and red-hot pain blossoming across her cheek. Reeling from both the dizzying fall and the blow, she had to blink several times and shake her head to make sense of the angry shout and large man now grappling with her assailant. Big men wearing cowboy hats, denim and boots were a dime a dozen in Montana, but no one had ever come to her rescue before. Her aching heart rolled over in appreciation even before he turned concerned eyes on her as the wily teenager broke from his hold, giving up her purse before taking off.

“Fucking kid,” he swore, squatting down in front of her. His rough voice sent tingles of awareness dancing down her spine, the intent look in his dark eyes reminding her of the observant gazes of the Doms at the club. He thumbed his hat back far enough for her to make out his rugged features and the dark shadow of his five o’clock beard in the meager amber glow of the streetlight and realize he was the same man she had ogled in the bar. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I, yes, I think so.” He helped Leslie up and the street whipped around her in staggering circles. “Whoa,” she gasped, grabbing onto his thick forearm, the muscles rippling under her hands as he wrapped his other arm around her waist.

“This is where too much alcohol will land you. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

His firm, no-nonsense tone calmed Leslie’s racing heartbeat even if she didn’t care for his lecture any more than she wanted to spend another long night alone. God, it felt good to lean on someone for a change, not to mention the warm rush spreading through her body from his firm hold and take-charge manner. She must be either really drunk or really desperate for relief if a stranger’s kindness was tugging on her neglected needs as a sexual submissive.

“My car’s in the parking lot behind us and I live just a few blocks away.” Whether because of the scare she’d just experienced or from her self-pitying melancholy mood of late, she didn’t want him to walk away yet. If that made her a pathetic mess, she didn’t care and relief swept through her shaken body when he tightened his arm around her waist.

“I can’t let you drive in your condition.” He ran calloused fingertips over her puffy cheek, a light caress she felt clear to her toes. “You need something on this, and learning to duck wouldn’t hurt. I’ll give you two choices. Call a friend to come get you or let me take you home. We can return to the bar and let the bartender know where you’re going and with whom, to ease your mind. I’d say you need to report this, but the odds of finding that kid aren’t likely.”

Leslie didn’t hear much after he offered to see her home. Was it stupid to let a stranger know where she lived? Oh, yeah, but not as dumb as wishing he would stay and exert some of that commanding attitude in a different way. She craved a distraction from her isolated life and the bleak future looming ahead of her, and spending more time with this panty-dampening stranger worked for her.

“I think,” she whispered, swaying closer to that rock-hard body, “I can trust someone who was nice enough to come to my rescue.”

Author Bio:

I live in the Midwest with my husband and our dog, a lovable Great Pyrenees/Standard Poodle. I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, babysitting dogs and kids, reading and working puzzles. We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I now prefer being a homebody. I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking. My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing erotic spanking romance with a touch of suspense. My favorite genre to read is suspense.

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The Nigerian Prince by Esi Wilson Blitz & Giveaway

The Nigerian Prince

Esi Wilson 

Published by: Visualbee Publishing

Publication date: November 25th 2019

Genres: New Adult, Romance, Thriller

Her: Everyone knows not to bother replying to the ‘Nigerian Prince’ Scam emails. But this one caught me at the worst time of my life. I was broken. So naturally, my curiosity got the best of me. I did it and there isn’t an ‘undo’ button.

Him: If you had seen her eyes, you wouldn’t blame me for what I did. What is a small lie when there is much to be gained?

Five childhood friends from Africa are linked forever through a shared traumatic experience. Driven by their affluent backgrounds, they frequent luxurious trips across the globe to stay connected. At the center of the conflict is Deji, a rich, young prince from Nigeria. In his quest to find fulfillment with a career he loves, he finds love instead through unlikely circumstances. His life becomes entwined with that of Tanya, an aspiring American actress he meets over the internet. The intrigues surrounding his friendships and his personal life stand as obstacles to their budding relationship. Will the strong bond of friendship triumph over the emotions pulling at Deji’s heartstrings?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

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EXCERPT:

“Ah, Oga,” The shorter of the two addressed me. “Anything for the boys?”

Just as I thought.

Being one of the richest people in Nigeria meant you always had to shower money on people at every turn. That was the Nigerian mentality. A rich man built and solidified his reputation by the amount of cash he disbursed freely and the regularity with which he did so. Personally, I thought the whole thing was backward, if not a bit uncivilized. But I did like giving and I had excess cash anyway. It wasn’t a bother.

I gave them a thousand naira to share and was about to drive off when I remembered the bottles of Sprite I had bought earlier.

“Boss, na you oh,” they both hailed as I handed them the drinks. I smiled and drove into the compound of the huge mansion Dipo had leased.

As I got out of the car, I noticed that although most of the equipment was set up, nothing important was happening. I recognized some A-list actresses lounging around the pool in sexy bikini outfits. Had they finished shooting? Fear gripped me. Man, I had messed up.

Heart in my mouth, I approached a member of the crew, a man probably in his early 30s with bushy eyebrows and a beard.

“Good afternoon, sir. Una don finish?” I asked with an outward calm I wasn’t feeling.

“For where? Director never ready na,” he responded. He didn’t seem happy about that but I was ecstatic. But I decided not to let my happiness show in case he transferred his aggression about the delay onto me.

“Where is he?” I asked.

At that, the man turned and gave me an appraising glance. I guess he was trying to determine if I was qualified to see the esteemed Dipo Ajayi. It seemed I passed muster – he jerked his head towards the left side of the building and gave me directions.

A few minutes later, I knocked on a door labeled Director. On hearing a muffled response from within, I twisted the knob and stepped into… a den of iniquity. There was really no other way to describe the disturbing sight that greeted my eyes.

Through a haze of smoke, I caught sight of half-naked girls lounging on every available piece of furniture in the spacious room. Some had the decency to wear bras but most were naked from the waist up. Everywhere smelt of Igbo, the popular Nigerian weed, and I could detect a whiff of freshly-made amala. Just as I was beginning to wonder if I was in the right room, I heard my name being called.

“Ajibade? I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

I peered through the smoke and right in the middle of the room, dressed in a colorful dashiki, sat Dipo. He was enjoying a meal of amala and ewedu soup. The dark brown amala made from yam flour, contrasted perfectly with the dark green hue of the mashed ewedu leaves. From the number of empty bottles of beer that lined the table, I could see that he had indulged far too much.

He gestured towards me with fingers covered in soup.

“Come over here, boy. Don’t stand there like a statue.”

I slowly walked towards him and noticed the two bare-breasted girls beside him. The girl on the right was topping up his beer glass while the girl on the left was flagrantly smoking weed from a rolled paper. Granted, I had done some wild things in my life but I had never seen this level of classless debauchery and all at midday.

“Won’t you sit down?” the girl smoking asked me, tapping the space beside her. Her eyes were glazed with the effects of the weed. “Or are you shy?”

Dipo scoffed as he swallowed a morsel of amala.

“Shy? The Deji Ajibade? I don’t think so.”

I took the empty seat.

“Ladies,” Dipo called out overly loudly. “This is the real estate prince. Next in line to the Imena throne and heir to the Ajibade real estate empire. He wants to try his hand at movie production. I have no idea why,” he announced, muttering the last part to the girl on his right. “Rich people, eh?” he said mockingly, winking at his girls who giggled in response.

I stood up abruptly, feeling embarrassed, angry, and disgusted all at once. This wasn’t what I signed up for.

“Sit down, Deji. Jé kí àwon girls mi tójú e dáadáa. Let my girls take care of you properly.”

I watched impassively as they all perked up at Dipo’s words, each wanting to be the one to ‘take care of me’. Their eyes had taken on an avaricious glint since Dipo had introduced me. My Timberlands, Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and Armani jeans screamed style, and I knew I wore it all well. Also, not to blow my own trumpet, I knew I was probably far better looking than the clients these girls were used to. But smoking weed and having random sex with girls who I strongly suspected were underage was not my scene. It was at times like this that I wondered what drove young girls to sleep with men old enough to be their fathers. It definitely wasn’t because the men in question were handsome. In fact, Dipo was what my friends and I would describe as plain ugly. Maybe that was why he hid behind the cameras, I thought slyly.

When I had first seen him, I thought his head was too small for his large body. I had met him multiple times now and my opinion had not changed. In fact, his body looked disproportionate in several ways, as though the Creator had been distracted when forming him; eyes too big and round for such a small head, a crooked nose that made me wonder just how many times it had been broken, and a mouth that was curled in a perpetual sneer.

“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing that everyone in the room was looking at me expectantly. I was trying to infuse the right mix of politeness and firmness into my voice. “Thanks for the offer but I have to decline.”

“Well, you can’t be tainting your royal blood with these local ashewos (prostitutes). The high-class escorts are more to your taste, eh? I totally understand,” he retorted haughtily. He swallowed another morsel of food and winked at me like we had just shared a secret filthy joke or something.

His statement irritated me further and I gave him a look of distaste.

“I’ll be outside,” I said quietly and headed for the door.

I had had enough. It seemed the rumors were true after all, I thought as I took in a gulp of fresh air and let the sun warm my face. Dipo had proven without a doubt that talent, no matter how great, was a poor substitute for character.

Author Bio:

Two West-African queens,

lovers of jollof and privy to gist,

join forces to shake things up.

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Kingdom of Salt & Sirens Reveal

Kingdom of Salt & Sirens 

Publication date: TBA

Genres: Fairy Tales, Retelling, Young Adult

The Little Mermaid but not as you remember it…

Beneath the turbulent seas, beyond the smokey depths, lies a Kingdom that exists in your wildest imagination. A world where mermaids swim, sirens sing and shipwrecks hide mysterious creatures.

Make waves with our 11 magical retellings of the timeless classic, The Little Mermaid.

Dive into a world filled with adventure, love and magic!

One click now for your happily ever after.

Authors include:

J.A Armitage

R. Castro

Jennifer Ellision

Mira Crest

K.M Pyne

Laura Greenwood

Jacque Stevens

Scarlett Kol

Anne Stryker

Nikki Landis

Tracy Korn