Untouchable by Elizabeth SaFleur {REVIEW & GIVEAWAY}

 

 

Untouchable
(Elite Doms of Washington, Book 2)
Elizabeth SaFleur
Release Date: July 3rd, 2015
Publisher: Troll River Publications
Book Genre: Romance

 

 
 

 

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A powerful man in a powerful world, corporate attorney Carson Drake is the master of the short-term affair and the preemptive strike. His motto, do unto others before done to him, has kept him single and safe.

Public relations executive London Chantelle relishes in her independence and is an unlikely partner. Mistrustful and damaged from her history, London wants nothing to do with men seeking to cage her.

Yet their unexpected encounter at private BDSM club Diabolus offers a delicious opportunity for them both. Mesmerized by London’s spirit, Carson offers her a weekend of sexual, submissive pleasure. London, anticipating she could finally put her unwanted darker, longings to rest, agrees to his proposal.

The weekend proves beyond what either could guess. Carson quickly taps into London’s masochistic streak, and they discover how perfect they could be together. But when a blackmailing co-worker and long-buried secrets threatens their budding relationship, Carson must turn to the secret and powerful BDSM organization, The Tribunal, for help. Yet help always comes with a price, and soon Carson and London are forced to deal with their pasts.

 

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“Control of your submissive goes beyond administering punishments and pleasure,” Carson said. Katie shifted once more. He traced a fingertip across the brunette’s shoulder tattoo. The ink on her flesh read Hurt Me. If only all women came pre-labeled with warning stickers, like this beauty draped over his legs. Perhaps then he’d have understood London’s edginess today a little better. Danger: High Voltage would have suited her.

For the last two hours he’d tried to stop thinking about those legs. Every technique he used only pushed her deep into his mind. And the thought of pushing deep into her.

Katie wiggled across his thighs and reclaimed his attention. He placed his hand over her lower back. “Be still.” He waited. When she finally stopped her attempts to grind into his crotch, he returned his attention to the growing audience for his spanking demo at Club Accendos.

“Settle,” he whispered. Carson willed his usual concentration to rise. After all, he’d agreed to this silly demo.

“Yes, sir.” Her words came out garbled. Katie was a screamer, so he’d gagged her. But he couldn’t enjoy her usual vocal appreciation of his work, thanks to unshakeable thoughts of a certain PR Princess.

He returned his attention to the ass presented. Smack! Smack! Katie’s behind grew more heated under his hand. When he palmed her pinkened butt, she pressed into his lack of an erection. It wasn’t Katie’s fault for his lackluster reaction to her. He’d just been here so many times before.

Katie’s flesh jiggled under three more swats. She fell further over his lap, releasing the last of her own tension and settling into the moment. If only he could do the same.

He slipped the gag from Katie’s mouth and let it clatter the floor. He eased her up and caught her by the arm as she swayed. Her heavy lids told him at least she’d enjoyed their time together.

“Thank you, sweetheart. As you can see, Katie is starting to float. That’s when you need to stop. Check in with your sub often and pay attention to the signs. Any questions?” If there is a God, there’ll be no questions.

 

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Bonus Giveaway – Elizabeth has a weekly giveaway on her website here.

 

 

 

I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review. I made no guarantee of a favorable review.


I enjoyed reading this BDSM book. Full of twists with a steady pace, unforgettable characters and the graphic sex scenes were simply "HOT BLOODED." The author's writing style sweeps you up and transports you right into the story line. I will definitely be reading more of Ms. SaFleur's work.

 

 

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Elizabeth SaFleur, an erotic romance author, penned the Elite Doms of Washington series, contemporary tales of dominance, seduction, and love set in our nation’s capital. The first novel, Lovely, was released in January 2015. She’s a member of the Romance Writers Association and avid reader of all fiction genres. 

 

 

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Pixelated by L.S. Murphy {GIVEAWAY}

 

 

Pixelated
by L.S. Murphy 
Release Date: 06/30/15
Bloomsbury Spark

 

 

 

Senior Year. 

Middle of nowhere. 

What's the new girl to do?

For Piper Marks, the answer is simple. She’s determined to have her photography rock the cover of National Geographic someday, and moving to Clarkton, Iowa for her last year of high school is not going to stop her. Even if her usual subjects have changed from bright lights and skyscrapers to fields, cows…and more fields. 

But when photographer at the local paper quits in a huff, she steps into his spot. Her new job keeps Piper busy capturing tackles, and zooming in on first downs and end zone dances, not to mention putting her directly in the path of varsity football star Les Williams IV. Her new friends warn her off, but she can’t resist the pull she feels toward this mysterious country boy. But this small town is keeping a secret, and it’s one that could destroy any chance they have to be together. 

It’s up to Piper to decide what to do with the distorted truth. Can she risk exposing her heart? It might be worth it, 'cause Les is about to change her world from black and white to fully saturated color. 

 

 

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Praise for Pixelated:


"In Pixelated, L.S. Murphy weaves a complex web of secrets and lies with a ‘will they or won’t they’ romance that kept me turning pages and holding my breath!" ~ Julie Reece, author of The Artisans and Crux

"Beautifully written, with a full spectrum of emotion and complex characters, Pixelated will tug at all your heartstrings. I easily lost myself in the world L.S. Murphy created and couldn't stop reading because I needed to see how the story ended." ~ Kelly Oram, author of Cinder & Ella

"L.S. Murphy brings something for every reader with Pixelated: romance, secrets, mystery, and a main character torn between two choices. Murphy's writing is sharp and steeped in emotions, deftly hooking her readers from the first sentence to the last." ~ Sarah Bromley, author of A Murder Of Magpies .

 

 

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L.S. Murphy obsesses about St. Louis Cardinals baseball, fangirls over her favorite authors, and watches every episode of Doctor Who like it's the first time. When she's not doing those time-consuming things, the former farm-girl turned city slicker turned suburbanite writes sweet romances for teens and adults.

 

 

    

 

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Uprising by Kate Bonham

 

 

Uprising 
by Kate Bonham
Release Date: June 30, 2015
Genres: Romantic Erotica, Fiction

 

 

 

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Lee had never known anything but running and hiding from the 'mafia' looking for her Uncle Sam. The last four years had been great, however. They'd settled in Washington close to her other Uncle Ahren and his wife Beth. She was finally home.


All seems to be going well in her life. Why then is she attracted to the man stalking her? The man who claims she is some kind of angel and has great powers. Shouldn't she run to Sam and tell him everything? Instead she trusts the man named Chael.


When the war threatens to erupt on Earth, Chael has no choice. He has to tell Lee the truth about who she is, and take her to the one place where she is safe...that is...until she's stolen again. Chael must track her down and fight the war between the rogue Fallen and Fallen...will they succeed before Hell's demons are unleashed on the world?

Sacrifices must be made. Will Chael save Lee before it's too late?

 

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Kate was born and raised in Sydney, Australia with her two parents and two brothers. She was always a dreamer even as a teen when she would dream of the moment, while in Maths class, her knight in shining armour would come and rescue her from the tedious learnings of algebra and Pythagoras’ theorem. It was at that moment, she realised that if she wanted her knight to come through the door, she’d need to dream him up.


She’s been doing it ever since.


In 2014, she migrated north to the Central Coast of NSW where she lives with her most treasured items: laptop, high heels and countless meerkat figurines.


Fate, is the first novel written by Kate and the first in the Fallen from Grace series.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

Opening the Veil (New Sight Book 1) by C.L. Clark

 

 

Opening the Veil (New Sight Book 1)
by C.L. Clark 
Release Date: 03/21/15
177 pages

 

 

 

When Cassie agrees to go on a date with her gorgeous new neighbor, she doesn’t expect the night to end with a glimpse into eternity. Within twenty-four hours she discovers not only are young women being brutally murdered around her beloved town, but an ancient evil is using her new neighbor like a puppet to do the killing. 


Knowing the police won’t believe her without solid proof, she makes it her mission to find the evidence they need. Add to that how her cat has started talking to her, along with seeing ghosts around town, and it’s no surprise that she’s beginning to question her sanity.

This is the first book in the New Sight Series - paranormal series about a young woman whose eyes are opened to the hidden world around her and her compulsion to help the dead seek answers and justice.

Imaginatively entertaining with light humor and a quickening pace, C. L. Clark’s interesting new twist on paranormal fantasy is a book series that readers will not want to pass up.

 

 

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Somewhere on the road between Barling Grove and Jefferson, while my body drove on autopilot and my brain played the meeting with Patricia over and over again, I happened to glance over at the car that passed me headed to Barling Grove. At first I had no idea why I looked until I realized it was because I recognized the car. Todd was tooling along to the town I had just left and judging by the look on his face, that I saw for just the briefest moment, he was shocked and I’m pretty sure ticked off that I was leaving there. 

Now, under almost all circumstances outside of trying my hand at trailing murder suspects, I drive safely at or under the speed limit depending on weather allowances. Despite having no idea what would cause Todd to have that mixture of emotions cross his face when he saw me, I stomped my foot on the gas and drove as fast as my aging Honda would allow, which turned out to be pretty darn fast actually. When I said “stomped my foot on the gas” I probably should have mentioned that I looked in the rearview and saw Todd’s brake lights first. Getting back to the office before he caught up to me seemed like the best course of action.

Although I kept checking my rearview, Todd did not show up as fast as I thought he would, so I figured he must have lost some time turning around. Either way, I was nervous about living out a car chase scene on my way back home and didn’t relish the idea of becoming an auto fatality, so when I reached Jefferson I slowed down to a mere 15 mph over the speed limit. 

As soon as it seemed safe, I let my speed climb back up a bit, but I noticed Todd in my rearview then and how he was gaining on me. Thankfully I made it to Kensington Falls before he caught up, which meant he would be forced to slow down too and stop at all the signs. It didn’t give me much of an advantage, but I did manage to park my car and open the office door before he came to a screeching halt in front. I had wanted to lock the door behind me and even get into Artie’s office, which Todd didn’t have a key for, but for such a big guy he moved fast and shoved through the door before I could turn the lock.

I jumped back but slipped and fell on my butt. Before I could scramble backwards out of his way, Todd was standing over me and pulling me up by my shoulders. He held me in the air that way, my feet dangling inches above the ground, and stared in my face, breathing hard and looking ready to kill me. I couldn’t say anything, I just stared in fear, not sure what I could do to get out of the situation alive.

“What were you doing there?” His voice was low and feral sounding.

His breathing was back to normal, but his eyes were on fire, no hint of the flirty creep that bugged me every day. I was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the real Todd, all pretenses gone, and realized how wrong I had judged him over the years. Maybe he wasn’t brainy enough to pull off a crime that required planning and finesse, but he was more than capable of killing someone.

“I said,” he hissed, giving me a ragdoll shake that made my teeth bang together painfully. “What were you doing in Barling Grove?”

“Visiting a friend,” was all that I could get out in the worst possible squeaky mouse voice I had ever heard come out of my mouth.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve been checking up on me. Tell me what you were doing there?”

“My friend, she’s sick.”

Todd took a couple of hard steps forward, still holding me up as if I didn’t weigh more than a child, and slammed me into his office door. I heard the door crack and felt my head and shoulders reverberate with the force. When I opened my eyes he was barely an inch away, his nose almost touching mine.

“I could make you tell me the truth,” he sneered, pulling his face away enough to look down at my trembling body. “I could take you seven ways to Sunday right now, each one harder and more painful than the last, until you beg to tell me.” 

Pressing himself against my chest, grinding his chest into my breasts, he gave me a lascivious smirk and then stuck his tongue out and licked up the side of my face as far as he could reach. When I tried to move my head away from him he ended his act with a bite to my cheek, hard enough for me to cry out, but not enough to draw blood.

 

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C. L. Clark has been a lifetime resident of the Twilight Zone – seeing every day occurrences and banal objects through slightly skewed, dark, and creepy glasses. The question usually on her mind is “What if?” followed by any number of strange ideas which quickly become stories that must be shared.


When asked about where her story ideas come from, she usually smiles mischievously and remarks, “My fingers have a mind of their own.” Often found peeking under rocks, wandering through graveyards, and poking her nose into abandoned haunted houses, she has a particular love for black cats, breaking mirrors, and running with scissors.

 

 

  

 

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In The Land of Shiva by James O’Hara {Author Interview & Excerpt}

 

 

 

In The Land of Shiva
James O’Hara
Publisher: Leandros Publishing
Release Date: June 10, 2014
 
 
 

 

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When Brother Jim leaves his comfortable life teaching in Catholic high schools and travels to India, he finds himself unprepared for the challenges he faces.
His assigned task is to start his religious order in that country, but as he immerses himself in a land of unfamiliar customs and ancient religious traditions, he soon discovers that his mission has become deeply personal. Brother Jim questions not only all his vows, but his deepest beliefs.
As he travels across India and encounters holy men, thieves, rabid monkeys, and genuinely good-hearted people of all backgrounds, he realizes that the religion of his upbringing is but one of many paths to spirituality, and a sometimes oppressive one at that. On the eve of celebrating twenty-five years as a brother, Jim must decide what he truly holds as important and how he wants to live the rest of his life. 
India and Nepal, with all their clamor, fascination, and surprises, come alive on every page in this unusual memoir set in the ‘80s.

 

 

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Chapter: The Pull of Gravity
(Setting – a small residential compound in the Indian countryside.)

As I sat reading under a tree at the compound gate—a slight breeze seemingly my only companion—a young man appeared. Not more than eighteen or nineteen, he carried a sickle in his rough hands and stopped directly in front of me to stare. I stood to acknowledge him, and took note of the gray string that crossed his chest diagonally and indicated that he had observed a “coming of age” ritual. A small patch of skin under the cord had lost pigmentation, and his hair was freshly wet and slicked back, making me imagine he had just cooled himself at a local well.

He eyed me steadily and smiled in response to my own hesitant smile. Shall I speak to him? Or is it better to say nothing than have a frustrating half-conversation?

“Namaste,” I said, and he repeated the greeting. He unabashedly looked me up and down, staring intently wherever my light skin was exposed. No Westerners visited that remote region and I must have been a curiosity to him. Uncomfortable with my body being an object of scrutiny, I decided to speak. “What is your name?” I asked in Hindi, and he replied with the name of the village down the road. Evidently my pronunciation left a lot to be desired. “What are you doing?” I asked and was pleased that I understood his response. “Cutting grass for the cows.”

We stood silently for several minutes not saying anything else. He continued to stare at me and I found myself doing the same in return. In fact, I wanted to reach out and touch him and find out if his brown skin actually was softer—as I imagined—than my own pale covering. But I didn’t. It would be presumptuous of me to touch him, maybe defiling his caste.

He gracefully shifted his weight to his other leg, then said something animatedly and laughed—so I laughed also. After another moment or two, he nodded in my direction and took off down the road. As I watched him walk away, his bare feet adjusting to the contours of the road, his arms swinging at his side and his whole body fluidly moving through space, I was simultaneously in awe of him and jealous of him.

That night I lay on my cot, tossing in the still, hot air inside the mosquito net. At midnight, sleep still had eluded me. A bath would help, so I pushed back the mosquito net and headed for the well. Someone had left a kerosene lamp by the door but lighting it would give off too much heat, so I counted on moonlight to illuminate the path. I headed down the dirt path, past the banana trees, and came upon the well in a small clearing. Frogs croaked in the well, but were momentarily silent when I dropped the bucket. I pulled up cool water, and took my time cascading it over my chest and each limb—slow-motion ablutions. I poured a second bucketful on my head, feeling the rivulets snake their way down my body. The water made my shorts cling to me, but I would change into a dry pair. On the way back to my room, a slight breeze that I didn’t know was astir cooled me.

Sliding out of my wet shorts and fumbling in the dark for dry ones, for a fraction of a second I saw myself in suit and tie teaching mathematics. Not much more than a year ago that was the only life I knew, a very different one from the present. Then, I was someone not yet introduced to mosquito nets and bathing by moonlight, someone who didn’t know the pleasure of an evening breeze against his chest, who knew of cobras and monkeys only from visits to the zoo. In short, someone out of touch with his body and removed from nature.

Trussed up in my white shirt and tie, I had had the security of knowing what my task was each day, but I hadn’t been connected to the earth. I had solved quadratic equations in my mind but not felt my bare feet walking a dirt path to the well. India, however, was changing that. She was forcing me into my body more and more each day—and it felt good. Gravity, it seemed, pulled harder in India.

 

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I want to thank Mr. O'Hara for taking the time to do this interview. It's very much appreciated.


1) What made you want to write?

My seven years in India and Nepal had been so colorful and intriuging, I decided to write down sights and sounds and little vignettes so I wouldn’t forget them.  In the beginning I had no idea it would become a book, a memoir.  My writing coaches urged me to describe my inner journey as well as the outer one, and I think that’s what makes it a memoir of broader appeal.

2) What is something that you struggle with when it comes to writing?

It’s that nagging voice saying, “Why would anyone want to read this? “  But I have to let go of the idea of “readership,” and focus on writing well whether that be a story, an essay, or historical research.  In the end, I must feel I have crafted something that I am proud of whether ten people read it or a million – preferably the latter! ☺

3) What is your favorite book of all time?

Oh dear, that’s a tough one!  I’ll tell you the book that most influenced me in writing IN THE LAND OF SHIVA, and that is “The Far Pavilions” by M.M. Kaye. It’s a story set in India which I read before going to India, and which I read again on my return when starting on my own book. The author, a British woman born in India, captured well the drama and “epic-ness” of that complex country, and I studied her paragraphs to see how she managed that.  

4) What cultural value do you see in writing?

Our culture tells us who we are – we are people who sing like this, dance like that, tell stories like those.  Many authors have captured American culture at various points in history (eg, Willa Cather), and we readers can visit those times from the comfort of our armchair.  I read stories written by Brits in India during the days of the Raj (British Rule) and found them fascinating. They described the “culture” of those times. (Read “Plain Tales from the Raj” by Charles Allen.)

I like to think I have captured the “culture” that surrounded an American man living in India and Nepal in the last half of the 20th century.


5) What were your goals and intentions in this book, and how well do you feel you achieved them?

Of course I wanted an award-winning book read in multiple languages by millions. ☺.  As I wrote, my intention evolved into the desire to describe not only the Indian subcontinent and its people, but also to lay bare, through the experiences of Brother Jim, the restrictions placed upon us by religions, the premises of which are largely gratuitous assumptions.  Brother Jim struggles with the concept that blind faith is seen as actually virtuous. I would say that understanding the pitfalls of blind faith is an urgent matter for our world today.

I suspect that my readers, not myself, will have to decide if I have achieved that goal.

The ebook version of “In The Land Of Shiva” did indeed receive a Gold Medal from Independent Publishers (an IPPY award) in the category of books “East of the Mississippi.”  I figured most folks would see India as to the east.


6) What was the hardest part of writing this book?

As a memoir, the chronology and outcome of the story are already somewhat set, but the arc of the story, with all its “advances” and “setbacks” needs to be lively and sometimes surprising to keep the reader interested.  I made outline after outline to chart the outer story progress, as well as to chart the twists and turns of Brother Jim’s internal journey. I fantasized having a large room where I could paste all these outlines on the walls and compare them, but I had to settle for the small hard copies I had at hand.

Another challenging issue was writing about sex. Brother Jim is a gay man and despite his vow of celibacy he has some sexual encounters.  I actually wrote those scenes after the rest of the book was almost complete, because I wanted to be sure the major theme of religion and blind faith was a clear and definitive narrative, and would not get upstaged by the sexual issues. And, quite frankly, I had never written sexual scenes before and was quite intimidated by the task, so they are rather brief.


7) What is the most important thing that people don't know about your subject/genre, that they need to know?

I would like to remind everyone that they have a story! We are all experts on at least one thing, our own lives, and no life is without its struggles. Not everyone will want to write about those struggles, but many do and their stories are gifts for us. It is in seeing that another person, a real person, has triumphed over the same or similar challenges that we have encountered that helps us navigate those rough waters ourselves. So, write that memoir, and if you choose not to, then read a memoir!

 

8) What question do you wish that someone would ask about your book, but nobody has?

“What do the people in the book say about the book?” Overall, they have been very supportive of the book—none has complained about my portrayal of them, even those with whom I had had conflict. One person said he remembered “that incident” differently, but said he suspected it was like two artists looking at the same landscape but painting it quite differently. I like that!

 

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Born in Milwaukee, WI, at age 18 O’Hara joined the Catholic order of Brothers who taught at his high school.  As a Brother for almost 30 years, O’Hara taught math at both the secondary and college levels, and in his late ‘30s volunteered to travel to India to establish a branch of his religious order there.  After seven years in India and Nepal, he returned to the States, left the Brothers, and became a massage therapist and massage instructor.  In addition to doing bodywork, he has also become a certified dream worker.  He makes his home in Berkeley, CA. His time in India and Nepal took him from immersion in religion to a place “beyond religion.”

 

 

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