Interview & Giveaway ~*~ The Dom with the Clever Tongue

As a fangirl and blogger, these are some of the best moments. . . 

Working with favorite authors to promote what we all love . . . 

Please welcome Reece, one of the main attractions in The Dom with the Clever Tongue

She answered a few questions so you could get to know her better!

Interview with Reece

1.     How would you describe yourself in three words?

Caring, opinionated, and… Scarlet would say sensitive. *chuckles* Or anal retentive.

2.     Do you believe in true love?

Of course. But I also believe love is a choice you have to make every day, even when you’re mad or not really feeling it. Know what I mean? You’re not always gonna feel all sappy, adoring puppy for a person all the time. You have to choose to love them even when you don’t like them sometimes.

3.     Do you have somebody special in your life right now?

Yes. Scarlet is the love of my life. Oh. There’s Malachi too. He’s special in that… Well, he makes me feel good, despite our interesting history. But what we have is temporary, sadly.

4.     What’s your favorite sex toy?

Vibrator! Preferably with Scarlet on the other end.

5.     Top or bottom?

Top! What did Scarlet say? She said top too, didn’t she? We’re still working that out. She thinks she’s the Domme but we’ll see about that.

6.     Nude or lingerie?

Pretty lingerie that hides my flaws. I’m a former fat girl and barely accepting of my curvy body.

7.     What’s your favorite hobby?

I like taking old prom dresses and fixing them up to fit all shapes and sizes. Then I donate them to girls who can’t afford to go to prom. It’s kind of my thing. Though just before prom, I’d say otherwise. *Laughs* I get a little stressed.

8.     Tattoos or piercings?

No. I don’t believe in causing myself unnecessary pain. Well, except for waxing. And a few pairs of heels I own are pretty painful. And plucking. But that’s it.

9.     Where do you see yourself in five years and who is by your side?

Scarlet. And maybe there’s even a baby. *smiles* Yeah. I’d like that.

  

Blurb:

Reece and Scarlet have everything a loving couple could want, except a hot kinky sex life. Malachi, an experienced Dom, steps in to help them sort that out. But not only is he a terrible memory from Reece’s past, he’s a smartass and damaged goods, too.

As they all learn to trust each other, Malachi becomes more than just their kink coach. It’s a full-on brat smackdown, and no heart gets out unscathed.

Warning: this book contains unrepentant brats, surprise orgasms, a Domme with training wheels, and a Dom whose tongue is registered as a weapon of mass seduction.
BDSM elements, M/F/f, F/f

Buy Links:

Amazon  ~   ARe  ~   B&N

10 Inch Review ~

While I admit to being a bad girl and not having read all of the Badass Brats books, I absolutely adored The Dom with the Clever Tongue by Leia Shaw, Cari Silverwood, and Sorcha Black.  

Reece and Scarlet have a good foundation of a relationship, but there are some 'kinks' to be worked out. They can't quite figure out their roles and enlist a little help from friends.  Only the help that comes along is almost as bratty and smart-assed as the two women he is there to help!

These three characters will make you laugh and maybe cry, but laughter is non-negotiable.  As Malachi attempts to define the roles for Scarlet and Reece, each has to come to terms with said roles and Malachi's temporary involvement in their lives. 

All three have their own personal demons to contend with but they somehow come to an understanding and are able to help each other deal with what has damaged them and work to take a few baby-steps forward.  There is a lot of emotional upheaval within the pages of The Dom with the Clever Tongue and an unusual relationship begins to form that will work perfectly for the three of them even if it is a bit unconventional. 

I really loved that Shaw, Silverwood & Black presented a relationship that you don't usually read about, but is there in the real world.  The realistic pieces of this story are gripping, informative and there are life lessons to be gleaned if you pay attention.  A definite must read from me, and now if you'll excuse me, I have to go play catch up with the series before one of these three authors decides I'm in need of a spanking! ;-)

Giveaway~

signed print copy of either the first or second book in the series

Leave a comment about Reece's interview, or let the ladies know why you want to read this series!

Don't forget your email address or we can't contact you. . . 

 Winner will be chosen by random on 11/1

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Excerpt & Giveaway ~*~ Bought, Branded & Bound by Lynn Richards

Bought, Branded and Bound

Texas Billionaire Box Set

By: Lynn Richards

Blurb

Macy Trent was a chubby girl but that didn't mean she obeyed anybody's rules but her own. That is, until her drop-dead gorgeous boss blackmailed her into submitting to his will. She agrees to spend the weekend with Logan and obey his every command.

Twenty four hours later . . . Oh my God what have I done?

That’s Macy first thought upon waking and finding herself in Logan Quinn’s bed. As memories of the night before – and her wanton behavior – come flooding back, Macy realizes last night wasn’t her biggest regret, it was falling in love with her drop dead gorgeous boss.

Logan’s curvy assistant is sarcastic, willful, and deliberately disobedient and he’s had enough of her attitude. He knows the only way to get her out of his system is to make her submit. He also knows being a Dom is all about maintaining control. So why does his curvy secretary make him want to break his every rule?

Come join Logan and Macy on their incredibly erotic journey and find out what happens when a good little submissive makes her dominant lose control . . .

WARNING: For mature audiences only - contains elements of discipline, submission, dominance, hot sex and . . . romance

Buy Links:

 AMAZON  ~  BARNES AND NOBLE

Link to Follow Tour: http://tastybooktours.blogspot.com/2013/09/now-booking-tasty-blurb-tour-for-bought.html

Excerpt

“Again, Macy, why are you being punished?”

Macy was sitting on the end of the bed like a good submissive when Logan entered the bedroom almost an hour later. Luckily he hadn’t finished sooner. She’d taken a quick shower before donning one of his dress shirts and even answered a text from her sister.

“Because I put two sugars in your coffee instead of three.”

“Did you do that deliberately, Miss Trent? You have made coffee for me almost every day since you’ve been in my employ. And you have put one cube of sugar in my coffee each time. Why forget today?”

He stood there, watching her, his eyes flashing with fire. She didn’t know if it was anger or desire. She hoped it was desire.

“Do you know why I think you forgot, Miss Trent?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

“I think you want to be punished. You want to feel the heat of my hand on your backside. You want to see how much you can tolerate before using your safe word, don’t you, Macy?”

He stepped back and pulled the t-shirt over his head. Next he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and let them slide to the floor. He wore no socks or shoes. Or underwear.

He walked over to the sitting area and placed one of the high-backed chairs in front of the mirrored closets. Taking a seat he motioned her over. “Come, stand in front of me the way you did last night.”

Macy complied, stepping in front of the chair with her back to him. She could feel her blood thrumming through her body. Even though she couldn’t comprehend the satisfaction to be had from spanking—yet—she was excited. Aroused at the thought of having Logan’s hands on her again.

Would she ever get enough of this man?

He reached out, his hands going under the tail of her shirt to trace the shape of her ass. His hands were warm, his touch firm as he stroked her soft flesh, making her tremble.

“Do you like that, Macy?”

Her breathing hitched. His touch was like a narcotic. One simple stroke and she’d do anything to have more. “Yes.”

“Unbutton my shirt.”

As soon as she’d undone the last button, he was tugging her down across his lap, her torso resting on the large curved arm of the chair. The fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, pulling the errant strands away from her face. Suddenly, she could see them in the mirror. He was watching her. Gauging her reaction.

“I want you to watch me spank you, Miss Trent,” he murmured. This was it. The thought both frightened and aroused her.

Macy watched his face, the brooding, hungry look—like a starving man offered a feast, yet afraid it was going to be snatched away before he got a taste. Fascinated by his expression as he stared raptly at her plump cheeks, she missed the rise of his hand.

Author Info

Lynn Richards is actually the pseudonym chosen by two best friends who started writing together back when they were both young and idealistic. Though no longer exactly young, they are still best friends and still pretty idealistic. They enjoy reading (and writing) romances ranging from sweet and pure, to spicy hot and erotic. Nothing pleases them more than hearing from their readers. Please E-mail them at lynn.richardsromance@yahoo.com and tell them what kind of reads you like and what you'd like to see from Lynn Richards in the future. And thanks for taking time to read Lynn Richards’ romances!

Author Links

http://www.lynnrichardsromance.com/

http://lynnrichardsromance.blogspot.com/

https://twitter.com/lynnrichardsrom

https://www.facebook.com/lynn.richards.9822?ref=tn_tnmn

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4972911.Lynn_Richards

Rafflecopter Giveaway (Two Print Copies of TEXAS BILLIONAIRE BOX SET)

  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blitz ~*~ Zombie Incorporated by Jill Elaine Hughes

Buy Links

Ebook:

Amazon * Barnes and Noble * Smashwords * Sony * Kobo

Paperback:

Amazon * Barnes and Noble

Blurb

“Newcomer Jill Elaine Hughes raises a fresh new voice in the zombie genre with a story filled with plenty of action, well-rounded characters and lots of shocks. Fun, fast-paced and highly entertaining. ZOMBIE, INCORPORATED rocks!” --Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of FIRE & ASH and CODE ZERO

Twilight. With zombies.

Eighteen-year-old Katie Allred is socially awkward and unpopular at school. The only child of parents who had her right out of high school, Katie is herself about to leave the nest, even though she hardly feels ready.

Katie’s new after-school job at the Zimble Box Corporation draws her into the complex social strata of high school cliques and backstabbing friends in ways she never imagined. Katie soon discovers there’s something very strange about the “in” crowd at school---and about her employer, too. Shortly after starting her new job, the Contagion breaks out, plunging her town and the entire nation into chaos as zombie shadow forces come out into the open, ravaging the streets. Katie goes into hiding and her parents disappear, along with almost everyone else she knows.

But Katie soon discovers she has special powers that help her survive. She’s a Beacon, someone with the innate ability to help zombies produce children. It’s a power her employer — and what little remains of the U.S. government — both want to exploit for their own ends. Not only that, it runs in her family---which has a secret past Katie never knew about until now.

Enter Agent Morehouse of the FBI Special Zombie Control Unit. A reformed zombie working undercover, he suppresses his urge to eat human flesh in order to serve and save humanity. But Agent Morehouse can’t help but be attracted to a Beacon like Katie, and she to him. Even as they fight zombies the world over, they must fight their intense attraction to each other, hoping to keep Katie from suffering Agent Morehouse’s terrible zombie fate.

Excerpt

I guess if I really thought hard about it, Mom was right.  The zombie apocalypse was my fault.  Everything was my fault.  I’d ruined her life, and now she wanted me out of it. All the mean underhanded comments over the years, all the passive-aggressive decisions to spend money on herself instead of me, their decision not to plan for my future, all the not-so-subtle hints to get the hell out of her house and become somebody else’s problem----it all made perfect sense now.

                  I could take a hint.  I knew where I wasn’t wanted.  And somehow I figured I’d have a better chance of surviving the coming onslaught of the Undead if I was on my own.  Conventional wisdom says there’s safety in numbers, but I’d watched enough horror movies to know that sometimes it’s best to fly solo.

                  I went to the bookcase and dragged over a milk crate to stand on so I could reach the top shelf. I reached behind the main part of the bookcase to the secret compartment I knew was behind it, the same secret compartment where I’d hidden candy and comic books as part of a treasure hunt game I’d used to play alone as a little girl.  My fingertips felt around until they touched the smooth, cold gunmetal.  I wrapped my fingers around the pistol, pulled it out, inspected it.  It was a lot heavier than I’d expected, yet it still seemed small, too small to be something that could explode and kill someone----or something----in less than a second. The lines of Dad’s semiautomatic Glock were sleek, almost animal-like in their curvature. I didn’t know what I was doing, but on sheer instinct my finger pressed a tiny switch on the spine of the weapon and the chamber popped open, revealing a bullet.  I popped the chamber closed, pressed another switch and the clip fell out into my hand.  I inspected that, studied it, worked out in my head how its various components connected with various components inside the gun which, when the trigger was pulled, would result in a projectile issuing forth, then with a flick of my wrist pushed the clip back inside its slot, heard it click.

                  I knew next to nothing about guns or weaponry or ballistics, other than that I knew my father stored guns in the basement and I had always been forbidden to touch them. But despite that lifetime of ignorance it seemed as if merely holding the weapon in my hand transferred all the knowledge I needed about how or why to use it directly to my brain.  As if I had a natural (maybe even a supernatural) talent for it, or a gift as my grandmother would have said. I could see all the moving parts in my mind’s eye as if they’d been there all along.

                  I reached back into the secret compartment and felt around again until my fingertips touched dusty cardboard.  I grabbed and pulled and came out with a heavy box of magazine clips.  Three magazines, sixteen shells to a clip. I couldn’t do the arithmetic in my head, but I knew it was a lot of bullets.  A lot, but probably not enough.  I reached and grabbed and pulled once again, and retrieved two more boxes of magazines.  Lots and lots of bullets now.  I hoped I’d never have to use them, but just to hold them in my hand felt like a good life insurance policy.

                  I stood and turned my newfound possessions over and over in my hands, studying the switches and gears, memorizing where the safety was and mentally practicing how to disengage and re-engage it. I read the instructions and warnings on the sides of the magazine boxes, noted how they said that semiautomatic-loading weapons were illegal in many states, and the manufacturer had no liability for any physical or legal consequences for any injury or death resulting from improper (or proper? Since guns were for shooting, after all) use of its commercial products. I knew I was holding deadly force within the palm of my hands, and knew that should have scared me at least a little bit.

                  But it didn’t. It did the opposite.

                  Mom watched me do all of this without comment.  I made a point not to meet her eyes for a while, instead keeping my gaze on the gun and the shell magazines. The basement air thickened between us. The ticking sound of the air conditioner as the blower switched on automatically on the other side of the wall seemed way too loud.  We both waited for the other to speak, or at least meet a gaze. But neither of us did, and for far too long a time.

                  Finally, Mom broke the silence. “It’s been way more than ten minutes, and your father isn’t back yet. What do you want to do?”

                  “I don’t know.”

                  “I think you should go up there after him, Katie. Take the gun with you.”

                  I forced myself to meet Mom’s eyes.  I saw a lifetime of disappointment behind her tinted glasses and blue-black mascara.

                  “You’re in a real hurry to get rid of me, aren’t you Mom?” I asked. My tone was cold, deadpan.  I was through with all the bullshit.  I just wanted my mom to tell the truth about me for once.

                  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

                  “Admit it. You’ve been trying to get rid of me for years.  Makes me wonder why you didn’t just get rid of me before I was born and saved yourself the trouble.”

                  All the color drained from Mom’s face.  “How dare you speak like that to me!”

                  “How dare you say straight to my face that you didn’t want me, that you never wanted me, and that I basically ruined your and Dad’s lives!” I shrieked. “Because that’s basically what you just said.”

                  Mom took off her glasses, pressed her palms flat against her eye sockets and choked down a sob.  “Katie, you’re reading way too much into this.  Your father and I----we made a lot of sacrifices for you.  Most people who became parents as young as we did would never have done even a tenth of what we’ve done for you.  You should be grateful.  And I think it’s high time your father and I had some time to ourselves now that we gave up so much to raise you. Except----“

                  “Except now you can’t. Because of the stupid zombies.  Which I suppose are all my fault too, just like everything else is.”

                  Mom slumped down onto a stack of milk crates. “I never said that.”

                  “You didn’t have to.”

                  We stared each other down for a minute or two, Mom always keeping a nervous eye on the gun.  For a split second I actually considered shooting her with it, but dismissed the idea as insane.  Plenty of teens my age think they hate their mothers, but they really don’t. It’s just a phase all young women go through.  The more I thought about it though, I didn’t hate my mother.  I honestly didn’t feel anything for her.  I was as indifferent to her now as I was to a lump of coal.  And that was far worse that hate.  After all, in order to hate someone, you have to love them first.  I wasn’t sure I ever loved Mom, and in that moment I doubted my mom ever loved me either.  Sending me off to face the zombies and my almost-certain death just proved my theory.

                  “So now you want me to save you from the zombies at the risk of my own life, huh?” I said, fingering the barrel of the gun in my hand. “Sort of kills two birds with one stone, doesn’t it?”

Mom’s face crumpled in horror. “I want you to go find your father!”

                  “Find him yourself.”

                  I turned on my heel and dashed up the creaky stairs, skipping the rotten ones at the bottom.  I was still missing one shoe.

                  I headed up to my room and packed a knapsack with one hand. Clothes, shoes, and random toiletries landed in the bag at random as I kept the gun, cocked and ready to fire, out at an angle and sweeping the air, ready for whoever and whatever might appear.

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