Author Spotlight: Forever At Midnight by Isobelle Cate

Forever At Midnight

Forever at Midnight (The Cynn Cruors Bloodline Series Book 2)

When Roarke catches a glimpse of Deanna in Dac Valerian’s club, he searches for her in the streets of Manchester just to prove that he hasn’t lost his mind. He is unable to believe Deanna is alive when he’d buried her himself nearly five hundred years before. But when Deanna turns up on the street facing the Cynn Cruors’ headquarters, Roarke needs to know why she’s hidden herself from him all these years.

Knowing her secret can only destroy whatever feelings Roarke has left for her, Deanna remains silent until circumstances force her to reveal everything.

Hearts are broken on both sides, but Roarke and Deanna have to work together if they are to find a way of ending Dac and the Scatha Cruor’s power once and for all. Desire rises and passions are rekindled. Will Roarke and Deanna’s pursuit of Dac lead to another chance at happiness? Or will it forever tear them apart?

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SEXCERPT

As the elevator opened to the ground floor, he pressed the hold button before striding the few steps to the door and opened it, taking care that the sun didn’t touch him. As the weak rays of the sun streamed through, he felt the gradual simmer in his blood. Uncomfortable, but bearable.
The scent of ylang-ylang reached his senses before Deanna appeared. Roarke closed the door and backed her against the wall. He claimed her lips in a searing kiss which burned a trail down to his sex. Deanna opened up to him, her tongue twirling against his. He groaned as their tongues duelled, each wanting dominion over the other. His hand curled around her neck while his thumb rubbed against the sensitive spot behind her ear.
Deanna’s moan sent his lust rampaging through his loins. His cock was harder than it had ever been. He rubbed it against her hip, wanting to bury himself inside her sweet warmth.
“Roarke.” Deanna gasped against his mouth. “Please….”
In a flash, Roarke pulled her inside the elevator. As the doors closed he punched in several numbers.
“That’s a longer code.” Deanna observed.
He turned to her. “It’s the code to switch off the camera feed.”
Deanna walked toward him. She opened her coat. His breath hissed through his teeth. She wore a simple wraparound dress of dark blue which cinched her waist and pushed her luscious breasts up. He pulled her against his body and devoured her lips before trailing open mouth kisses down the elegant length of her throat. When he reached the base, where her pulse beat erratically, he licked it, eliciting a sigh from her before he sucked on the tender flesh.
Hard.
Deanna held on to him, her head angled so he could suck more. She whimpered and begged him to continue. Through her skin, Roarke drew a little of her blood. His body rejoiced. His cock strained against his jeans.
Deanna was still his mate. The sweet drop invigorated his senses. He felt more strength literally flowing through his sinews. But there it was. He also tasted something metallic and bitter. No one had to tell him it was the Scatha’s taint. Inside his body, Deanna’s essence mixed with his own. The combination of their blood was stronger than Dac’s contamination. He clenched his jaw at the stab of pain in his system, and then it was gone. His body had battled the taint.
He licked at the spot and felt Deanna shudder against him. She faced him, her eyes aglow with desire. She shrugged out of her coat and parted the bodice of her dress, taking her breast out of her lace bra. Without preamble, Roarke latched on to her tit, kneading the breast as he sucked and nipped at the aroused bud. When he lifted his mouth, she moaned, until she realized he was moving to give the jealous twin equal attention. In appreciation, Deanna cupped his erection before quickly unbuttoning his waistband and unzipping him. Roarke backed her to the corner of the elevator and lifted her. Deanna’s dress parted to show her black lace-edged stockings held by a lace garter belt over a lace thong.
“My lady,” he rasped. “This will have to be quick.”
“Yes, Roarke,” she said huskily, nipping at his neck. “Quick, hard, and rough.”
Deanna pulled her thong aside for him. Her sex was glistening and wet. The scent of her arousal enticed him even as it mixed with his own. In one thrust he was inside her. They both groaned in ecstasy.
He was mindless with lust as Deanna’s sheath clung to his cock. He rode her as she bade him. Quick, hard, and fast. The sound of his cock pistoning in and out of her and the sweet slickness of her fluids coating him drove him wild. His cock thickened with each thrust. By the gods, he loved how his shaft felt as it deliciously scraped against the muscles of her sex. Deanna’s pants and moans became the fuel which propelled him on—harder and harder—until her cries became louder and she fell apart in his arms. With every twitch of her sex against him, he followed her, the guttural cry of his orgasm lost against the softness of her neck.
Their laboured breathing and the hum of their afterglow filled the elevator. Reluctantly, Roarke removed his cock from her wet heat. Kneeling down, he kissed her, pleasuring her until she came again.
Half an hour later, they walked into the foyer, meticulously dressed.

About the Author

ISOBELLE CATE

Isobelle Cate is a woman who wears different masks. Mother-writer, wife-professional, scholar-novelist. Currently living in Manchester, she has been drawn to the little known, the secret stories, about the people and the nations: the English, the Irish, the Scots, the Welsh, and those who are now part of these nations whatever their origins. Her vision and passion are fuelled by her interest and background in history and paradoxically, shaped by growing up in a clan steeped in lore, loyalty, and legend.

Isobelle is intrigued by forces that simmer beneath the surface of these cultures, the hidden passions, unsaid desires, and yearnings unfulfilled.

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╰☆╮Author Spotlight – Rapture At Midnight by Isobelle Cate╰☆╮

Rapture at midnight

She is the very essence of his immortal life.
He is her soul.

Finn Qualtrough, a Cynn Cruor warrior, is on a mission to find the leader of the Scatha Cruor, Dac Valerian. When he pursues three Scatha warriors who can lead him to Dac, he discovers a woman who awakens a desire within Finn to claim her as his own.

Eirene Spence is an insomniac and a computer genius. Her penchant for midnight walks in the park puts her life in danger when the Scatha Cruor find her. She is saved when a handsome stranger rescues her. His touch ignites a hunger inside her that only he can satisfy.

By a twist of fate, Eirene’s client is Dac Valerian. She can lead Finn—and the rest of the Cynn Cruor—to Dac’s lair. But Dac wants her dead.

Now Finn must fulfill his mission while trying to keep Eirene alive. With Valerian after Eirene, nothing is certain, not even her place in Finn’s life.

There is a growing war between the Cynn Cruor and the Scatha Cruor: two breeds of immortal warriors who carry human, vampire, and werewolf blood. The Cynn Cruor want to live in harmony with the human race. The Scatha Cruor want to enslave them.

It’s time to start preparing for battle.

***CONTENT WARNING: This story contains adult language and sexual situations and intended for audiences 18+ ONLY***

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Rapture at midnight teaser

Sexcerpt:

Eirene floated down from a pure cloud of bliss. Delicious shivers stroked her body when Finn kissed her forehead, then trailed kisses down her temple, making a beeline to nip at her neck. He was semi-hard inside of her and Eirene could feelanother wave of lust teasing her core. She trailed her fingers over his skin and arched her back so her nipples could brush his chest. She heard the low rumble of laughter in Finn’s throat as she began to run her fingertips up and down his back, then slowly caress his tight butt cheeks.
“You’re as insatiable as I am.”
Eirene smiled. “I never realized I was ohhh…”
Finn’s right arm encircled her waist while his left arm braced his weight against the step as he pulled out of her. She sighed, her body boneless and sated. She linked her arms around his neck when Finn lifted her and carried her up the stairs. It felt so good being near Finn. She had never felt safer than she did now, in Finn’s arms. She buried her face in his neck, licking and gently sucking his throat. She inhaled his scent of spice and musk and their joint sensual smell. God, his scent was making her want him again.
Finn walked towards her bedroom and to the bathroom.
“How?”
“I can see even in the dark, remember?”
Finn set her down in the bathroom before turning on the tap for her. Eirene entered the stall, sighing as the warm water gently rained on her back, her legs wobbly after their passionate lovemaking.
“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll get our clothes from downstairs.”
Eirene had other things in mind.
“A kiss before you go?” She asked as her eyes seduced him. She stepped back to allow Finn to enter the stall.
Finn swooped to take her mouth in another heart stopping kiss. Fire started to swell in her belly. Eirene molded her body against his, their tongues teasing each other. Her hands splayed over his chest, her palms overly sensitive, enjoying the play of his muscles beneath them. Finn drew a hard breath before crushing her to him. Excitement poured into the apex between her thighs when Finn’s cock swelled against her stomach. His breath was harsh with need as his stubble scrapped against her neck before dipping towards her breasts. Eirene arched her back and gave a rapturous moan when his mouth captured her left nipple, twirling the tight erect bud around his tongue. Her hips nudged against him and she smiled when she heard his low growl.
She laughed softly.
“Our clothes,” she whispered.
“Can wait,” he muttered against her areola before he gently grazed it with his teeth.
Eirene reveled at the silky feel of his hair as she held his head about her breast. She moaned at the jolts of electricity his tongue ignited, causing her femininity to weep again. She lifted her leg against his hip and reached down between them to slide her hand up and down Finn’s heated shaft. With a growl, Finn lifted her to allow her to place her legs around his waist. The warmth of the shower spray heightened the sensual atmosphere. Finn lifted her and gently backed her against the wall.
Eirene returned every hard kiss, every thrust of Finn’s tongue against hers. She held him tight, urging him to take her, her gasps coming fast from her lips. Finn ended the kiss and looked at her with smoldering hunger. Eirene’s eyes widened, then fell to half-mast when she felt Finn’s hardness slowly sink into her again. She moaned at the pleasurable sensation of her channel readily bathing his shaft with her slick juices.
“Eirene, look at me. I want to see your eyes as I take you. I want to know how much you want me.”
Eirene’s eyes widened. His commanding words fed her excitement, and she did as he demanded. She looked at his eyes, turbulent with desire. The gold flecks were back in his midnight blue pupils, looking like tiny rays of the sun against a lunar eclipse. The heat of his hunger caressed her, teased her, and claimed her. She felt as though his heat had tiny tendrils which licked at her skin and teased her hardened nipples. She gasped and hummed when Finn placed his hands underneath her ass to hold her closer, his thrusts bringing her nearer to the precipice. Finn turned on the heat by pumping faster, harder, and deeper. Eirene’s breath caught in her throat. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. Her eyelids wanted to close at the sheer ecstasy of Finn’s rod thrusting into her. She whimpered, then looked down. Her channel’s lips felt thick and slick as it ate every inch of Finn’s cock, while it appeared and disappeared into her.
“Eirene…look at me.”

ABOUT ISOBELLE

ISOBELLE CATE

Isobelle Cate is a woman who wears different masks. Mother-writer, wife-professional, scholar-novelist. Currently living in Manchester, she has been drawn to the little known, the secret stories, about the people and the nations: the English, the Irish, the Scots, the Welsh, and those who are now part of these nations whatever their origins. Her vision and passion are fuelled by her interest and background in history and paradoxically, shaped by growing up in a clan steeped in lore, loyalty, and legend.

Isobelle is intrigued by forces that simmer beneath the surface of these cultures, the hidden passions, unsaid desires, and yearnings unfulfilled.

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╰☆╮Author Spotlight: A Breath of Heaven by Sable Hunter╰☆╮

A Breath of Heaven cover

Cade and Abby have a history. Years ago they were in love. Undeclared and unrequited, Cade waited until Abby was old enough for him to declare his love. Abby wanted nothing more than she wanted Cade.

But something happened.

Abby pushed Cade away and he never knew why. Since then, sparks fly when they’re together. Antagonizing one another has become their favorite sport. The only problem is… it’s all a front. They bicker because they both want the same thing – each other. A wedding brings them together and Cade is determined to learn Abby’s secret. He’ll do whatever it takes to win her love.

Meet the King Family of El Camino Real – five brothers, one sister and a legacy as big as Texas.

*18+ Contains Adult language and situations*

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A Breath of Heaven

**Excerpt***

“Oh, really?” He stood up. “I’m not really afraid of you, Abby. Tell me, what do you do when you’re aroused?” He laid down his napkin.
“Do you touch yourself?” He took a step or two toward her end of the table.
Abby stood up, panic washing through her bloodstream. “Don’t you come anywhere near me, Cade Tallbull.”
“Do you run your hands over that sweet little body?”
He was coming closer, stalking her. Abby retreated. “Excuse me, I need to do the dishes. Why don’t you watch television, or better yet…” She brightened. “Why don’t you go take a dip in the stock pond? I put some testicle eating fish in there especially for you.”
Cade shook his head. “Nah, I saw ice on the pond when I drove up. And believe me, you want me to keep the boys safe.” He rubbed his package. “You might find a use for them someday soon.” Cade took another step closer to her. “But we could shower together.” This was fun. “Stop fighting it, Abby. Stop fighting me. You know you still want me. Admit it.”
Abby wasn’t admitting a damn thing. She glanced over her shoulder, measuring how far it was to her bedroom door. She needed a path to a fast get-away. “The dishes can wait till tomorrow. I’m tired.”
Cade wasn’t giving up. “When you touch yourself, do you ever think of me? When you rub your little clit and pinch your nipples, do you ever call out my name? Cade, oh, Cade, I want you, Cade.” He mimicked her voice.
He was about three feet away and aroused, heavily aroused. Abby could see the outline of his cock through his jeans. She stared, mesmerized and confused. Was that for her? “Me? Call your name? Never!” Lie. Lie. All lies.
“So, you do masturbate, don’t you? At least I admit that much.” He reached out for her.
And when he did, Abby turned and ran like the devil himself was after her. She sprinted across the room, down the hall, into her bedroom and slammed the door. And locked it. Then, she leaned back against it, clasping her heart, trying to catch her breath. She wasn’t scared of Cade. She was scared of herself.
Abby Grace King wanted Cade Tallbull more than she wanted life.
But she couldn’t have him. Ever.
She was just about to step away from the door when she heard him…
“Abby?” Cade’s whispered voice came from the other side of the door. She jumped. “Abby?”
“Go away, Cade.” She begged, desperate to have him – desperate to keep him at arm’s length.
“I’m going to be in bed just on the other side of the wall, thinking about you. Listen for me, Abby. You just might hear me moaning your name when I cum.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I’m gonna kill him.” She heard him chuckle as he turned and went to his door.
“Goodnight, Abby,” he called. “Dream about me.”

ABOUT SABLE

SABLE HUNTER

Sable Hunter is a New York Times, USA Today bestselling author of nearly 50 books in 7 series. She writes sexy contemporary stories full of emotion and suspense. Her focus is mainly cowboy and novels set in Louisiana with a hint of the supernatural. Sable writes what she likes to read and enjoys putting her fantasies on paper. Her books are emotional tales where the heroine is faced with challenges. Her aim is to write a story that will make you laugh, cry and swoon. If she can wring those emotions from a reader, she has done her job. Sable resides in Austin, Texas with her two dogs. Passionate about all animals, she has been known to charm creatures from a one ton bull to a family of raccoons. For fun, Sable haunts cemeteries and battlefields armed with night-vision cameras and digital recorders hunting proof that love survives beyond the grave. Welcome to her world of magic, alpha heroes, sexy cowboys and hot, steamy to-die-for sex. Step into the shoes of her heroines and escape to places where right prevails, love conquers all and holding out for a hero is not an impossible dream

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╰☆╮Author Spotlight: Come With Me by Sable Hunter & Ryan O’Leary╰☆╮

Come With Me

Lacy spends her time planning events at a country club. Her latest and greatest project is the big Fourth of July celebration. Fireworks lighting up the sky – Red Hot and Boom! She loves the excitement and the spectacular display of sparkles and heat gives her a thrill. The only problem is… Lacy has never had any fireworks of her own. Despite having to listen to her friends tell of their sexual escapades, she has never experienced the big ‘O’. According to the only man she’s ever given herself to, Lacy is frigid. Is something wrong with her or has she just not met the right man for the job?

Jake is the manager of the golf course at the country club. He’s designing and overseeing a building project and the sight of him shirtless and sweating and flexing…has given Lacy ideas. Jake has a certain reputation of being able to handle almost any task he’s given. Rumors of his sexual prowess are legendary. Now, every time Lacy sees him working with his hands, doing some heavy lifting, his body gleaming with the sheen of exertion – she begins to hope that Jake can give her what no one else ever has.

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**Excerpt***

“Might want to do up your jacket,” a strong male voice said beside her.

Lacy froze. This was beginning to be a habit. Yes, when she turned, Jake was right there, leaning against the beige brick wall with his arms folded across his thick chest. “What did you say?” She finally managed to ask.

“Before you go in, you might want to button your coat or you’re going to give everybody a thrill,” Jake said, gesturing with his hand at her open blouse.

Not understanding, Lacy looked down and found her white blouse clinging to her chest, her light green bra very visible through the fabric. Good gravy! “Dang, I’m so sorry.” Lacy squeaked, clasping her small purse in front of her chest. She’d wanted him to see her bra one day, but this wasn’t how she’d envisioned it going down.

Jake chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

“What’s so funny?” Lacy inquired, embarrassed. After all the things she’d been daydreaming about them doing together, finding herself in a situation like this with Jake was almost more than she could bear.

“You’re gonna need a bigger purse than that,” he said with a wry smile. The teasing and ribbing he’d taken from those three dating service women came to mind. It was clear, if you gave those three an inch, they’d take a mile. And if they’d mentioned Lacy Allen once, her name had come up a dozen times. But they were right, she was cute as a bug.

Humiliated, Lacy was absolutely humiliated. She didn’t have that much contact with Jake, surely not as much as she’d like to have. And here she was, standing in front of him, giving him his very own private wet T-shirt contest. What to do? She wanted to look at him, see his expression. Did he like what he saw? Maybe she should try to get the attention off of herself. Yea, that would be smart. “Too wet to work?” she asked timidly. Hell, she could relate. After fantasizing about the gorgeous man in front of her, her panties were still soaked and she hadn’t even gotten to enjoy what could have been a satisfying finish.

Jake stepped out to the edge of the overhang. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m from here, grew up in Sabine Parish. And there’s one thing about this place, it can be hot as hell but a storm can come up in a heartbeat.” He stuck his hand out and cupped it, instantly his palm filled with water. “I left as soon as I got out of high school, went to Arizona where it hardly ever rains. But here, rain can come out of nowhere and before you know it, you’re all wet.”

ABOUT THE AUTHORS…

SABLE 

SABLE HUNTER

New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best Selling Author

Sable Hunter writes romance, some of it quite spicy. She writes what she likes to read and enjoys putting her fantasies on paper. Her stories are emotional reads where the heroine is faced with challenges, like one of her favorite songs – she’s holding out for a hero – and boy, can she deliver a hero. Her aim is to write a story that will make you laugh, cry and sweat. If she can wring those emotions out of a reader, then she has done her job. She grew up in south Louisiana along the mysterious bayous where the Spanish moss hangs thickly over the dark waters. The culture of Louisiana has shaped her outlook on life and made its way into her novels where the supernatural is entirely normal. Presently, Sable lives in Texas and spends most of her time in wild and wonderful Austin. She is passionate about animals and has been known to charm creatures from a one ton bull to a family of raccoons. For fun, Sable has been known to haunt cemeteries and battlefields armed with night-vision cameras and digital recorders hunting proof that love survives beyond the grave.She owns Beau Coup Publishing company where she publishes her own work as well as many other fantastic authors. Join her in her world of magic, alpha heroes, sexy cowboys and hot, steamy, to-die-for sex. Step into the shoes of her heroines and escape to places where dreams can come true and orgasms only come in multiples.

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RYAN

RYAN OLEARY

Rarely will you find Ryan O’Leary in a state of rest; if he’s not on the ice or kicking around a soccer ball, he’s plotting his next story or out on the town with friends. His fun and flirty nature makes it possible for him to write the kind of romance that makes the reader both smile and tingle.

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╰☆╮Author Spotlight: Broken Bonds by Katherine Rhodes╰☆╮

Broken Bonds

The door read: Club Imperial
The truth was: It could never hide all your secrets.
Emmy learned that the hard way.

Behind Club Imperial’s doors lay all of those Emmy never wanted to share. Secrets she wanted to hide forever from the world. And Nathaniel.

As she lay unconscious in the hospital, beaten and bruised, Nathanial never left her side. He didn’t want her lifestyle—their lifestyle—to take away from the justice her attack deserved. Slowly, as Emmy started to recover, she started to accept all the good in her new life…

Until the day her phone rang and her world, all those secrets, came crashing down around her.

Terrible things she left behind suddenly reappeared, and her scars were ripped open. Emmy wasn’t sure she could survive the pain, again, and she had to let Nathaniel go to protect him from the hell of her past…

But Nathaniel wasn’t walking away.

**Content Warning: Contains explicit content that may not be suitable for all audiences. Also contains BDSM, Erotic content and language. 18+ Audience

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EXCERPT

The car turned off the road to a paved driveway that disappeared through the trees. They wound through the greenish midday light and the trees disappeared from her side of the car to reveal Nathaniel’s North Hills estate. Her jaw dropped.

There were acres of manicured lawns between them and the house. There was a stand of trees half way there with a pond surrounded by carefully maintained cattails and native grasses that were starting to perk from their winter rest. She thought she saw a spigot in the middle for a fountain.

Beyond was an enormous white and brick Jacobean-style mansion. Three floors tall with huge windows over-looking the lawns, the front door was set back from the driveway, giving the house a u-shape to the front. There was tower—a tower—above the main entrance which rose to a fourth floor. The top of the house was lined with white cement railing and each of the two front wings had a parapet on the corners. She started counting chimneys and finally had to stop at twenty-five. As they drove further, she caught glimpses of the depth of the house, and there were more chimneys she hadn’t seen earlier. All of the windows were three panes wide and seemed to be floor to ceiling. Part of the back of the house looked newer, but had been added on in the style of the original. It had the traditional white puzzle cornering and there was some ivy on one wing, but it was carefully maintained.

Emmy looked at him. “Is there a ballroom?”

“Of course,” he said dismissively.

“You live in this?”

“Quite.” He smiled. “I’ll give you the whole tour when you’re feeling up to it. Your room is in the back overlooking one of the gardens and the pool house.”

“Pool house,” she mumbled. “You have a pool house.” She turned back and pressed her hand to the window. “It looks like Hatfield House.”

With that thought, the pang of loss hit her so hard she had tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized what was going on. It had been years since she had thought about Hatfield House and the sudden realization that it was the last time she saw her father was like a bolt of lightning.

“Oh, my God.” Nathaniel pushed over to put his arm around her. “What’s wrong? Holy crap, please stop crying.”

She tried, she really did. But she couldn’t stop the gasps and hiccups that went along with the emotion. She looked at him. “You want to know more about me? The last time I saw my father was at Hatfield House outside of London. We were there for a benefit to try and save the Ukrainian Symphony Orchestra. He was there with Sarinya and had just proposed to her. I left the next day to go back to Boston, and he was killed in a car accident three months later, after playing out the season with the London Symphony. They were going to see Sarinya’s family for holiday, and he never made it.”

He just held her a moment while letting her cry. “I’m so sorry, Emmy.”

“I didn’t think a stupid house could do this to me,” she said, smearing the tears away indelicately. “I mean, I like your house, I just didn’t think it was going to make me think of my dad and get me all worked up like this.”

“You have had a very traumatic two weeks, Em.” He tried to console her. “I suspect most anything will set you off.”

“I hate being emotional,” she hiccupped.

“I can’t imagine why.” He smiled at her.

She smiled back, starting to feel a little more balanced. “You have a beautiful house.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He lowered his voice and continued, “But you can’t go in the West Wing.”

“Why not,” she asked, confused.

“Because that’s where I keep my secret magical rose.” He laughed. “And sometimes the teapots talk.”

Emmy giggled. “So you’re telling me this is a reverse fairytale castle? What does that make Quinn? Or you for that matter?”

“I’m a handsome equine.”

“Oh, so you’re full of horseshit.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Author of erotica, light BDSM erotica and paranormal erotica. Expert in the profundities of bad movies and awful literature. Armed with her Bachelors of English, Literature she has set her mind to writing erotic romances which are kinky, dirty, and fun. A lackadaisical laundry goddess, Katherine resides in Philadelphia with her husband, three cats and a betta named Fishtian Grey.

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