T.R. Motley is here to tell us about With These Hands, a crime thriller.
Read on for details...
_____________________
Crime Thriller
Date Published: December 3, 2025
At the age of 13, Aurelia’s entire life changes when her parents
begin to align themselves with the Juarez Cartel, running drugs and
trafficking women through Rio Bravo, their small town off the Rio Grande
River. Determined to get away from this life, Aurelia collects years of
evidence on the cartel.
At the age of 17, she is forced to run when her parents arrange a marriage to
a cartel member. After working with the FBI to take down most of the cartel,
she is placed in a protection program. Unbeknownst to her, the Juarez Cartel
has rebuilt and is stronger now than before.
In a twist of fate, Aurelia is kidnapped, forced to marry Diego, son to the
leader of the cartel, and produce an heir. Diego, who becomes an unseen ally,
along with Aurelia begin to align themselves with individuals throughout
Mexico to take down the cartel. They will fight, blackmail, and kill to
protect those they love.
In an act of desperation, Diego makes the ultimate sacrifice and enlists the
help of Daniel Zimmerman, a U.S. FBI agent and Aurelia’s first love. On
the day of the raid, will everyone make it out of Mexico alive?
About the Author
T.R. Motley. I have lived in Oklahoma all of my life. For the last 28
years now, I have dedicated my life to taking care of my family and other
families as a nurse. I worked in the Pediatric ICU for 25 years taking care of
extremely sick children. There were highs, when I was able to place a child in
his parent's arms after a being on life support to watch the smile on both of
their faced for a very long time. There were lows, when I placed a child in
their parent's arms, which would be the last time they would ever hold them.
My love of books started as a teen when life was not the best, and I would
place myself in the characters shoes and get lost in the story. As an adult,
it was my escape from reality in a sometimes cruel world. Along the way, my
own stories began to swirl in my head. I always wanted to put those stories on
paper, but needing to be a responsible adult, took the safe route.
On my last week in the PICU, my fellow coworkers and I went on a float trip.
Several people asked if we had it to do over again, would we still have become
a nurse. Surprisingly, only two people said they would. When going around and
asking what everyone would have done instead, I said I would have become an
author. Silence ensued for a minute, before there was a chorus of, "Go for
it!" Two months later, I did a ton of research and started my first novel.
Seven months later, I had a completed piece of work. Months of beta reading
and changes along with and editor, helped round out what my book has become.
Now, twenty years later, I am pursuing that dream of storytelling.
Aurelia's story is about overcoming any obstacle, even when being pushed down
from every angle for most of her life. It is about seeing some of the worst
circumstances in life, facing those head on and fighting back to make her life
better. It is about believing that just because you were born into a certain
life, you can fight for what you want and make your way out. It is about
finding love in the worst circumstances and having life ripped away once more.
It is about a woman fighting in a man's world and excelling. It is about
finding friends in the misted of tragedy and realizing sometimes people will
fight for you just as hard.
We see the mark drug cartels not only leave on the U.S. and Mexico in general,
but in the lives of real people. We see how easy human trafficking and
bringing drugs in from Mexico can be. We learn that people are so greedy for
power and money, that they allow these things to happen. People that should
protect us. This is a powerful story of how Aurelia, who is immersed into this
world, not only fights for herself, but others who have been drug in along
with her. There are powerful characters that Aurelia meets along the way who
join forces to not only help her with this fight but become the family she
never had.
This is a romantic suspense novel, appropriate for ages 18+ (adult only).
Sharon C. Cooper is here to tell us about Surrendering to You, book 3 in the Priestly Family Series, contemporary romance.
There's also a great giveaway.
_______________________
His betrayal cost him the only woman he has ever loved.
Now,
he’s determined to win her back.
Surrendering To You
Priestly Family Series Book 3
by Sharon C. Cooper
Genre: Contemporary Romance
His betrayal cost him the only woman he has ever loved.
Now, he’s determined to win her back.
On the football field Tristan Whitmore might be an MVP, but
after a recent career-ending injury, his world is flipped upside down. He takes
little comfort in his many NFL achievements and a bank account bulging with
more money than he could ever spend. His life feels like it’s over… until he
reconnects with the one woman he’s never forgotten. Too bad she hates him.
Entertainment lawyer, Cree Priestly is not the forgiving
type. Betray her once, and you’re dead to her. Which is why Tristan will never
get a second chance with her. She lost too much the last time he charmed her
into falling in love with him. Letting that happen again would make her a fool.
But when he kisses her, all the buried memories of love, desire, and passionate
nights come rushing back.
But can Cree afford to surrender her heart to Tristan again?
Or are some betrayals impossible to move past?
*All books in this
series can be read as standalones.
“He’s not
my anything,” Cree ground out. “And I think this is a good time to end our
visit. I need to get going anyway. We can talk about Dorian’s wedding later.”
“Cree,
stop. Just talk to him. It’s been years, and you both deserve some closure.”
“I got
closure when I told him to lose my damn telephone number and to go to hell.”
Cree knew
she was being a jerk, but Tristan was still a sore topic with her. Seeing him
again brought back too many memories, and they weren’t all good.
She
gathered her large bag, which doubled as a purse and laptop carrier, and then
she grabbed her trash.
“I’m out
of here,” she said and blew her sister a kiss before walking away.
If Cree
was lucky, she might be able to slip past Tristan without him seeing her. He’d
been forced to retire from the NFL, the National Football League, after an
injury, and she’d heard he had moved back to Chicago.
God, she
hoped that wasn’t true. They probably traveled in the same circles, and that
would mean there was a good chance she’d run into him more than she’d prefer.
Taking
advantage of the crowd that surrounded him, Cree moved around the perimeter of
the space and kept her head down while making her way to the door. She had
barely touched the handle before she jolted from the feel of a large hand on
her hip.
She froze,
but not before a zap of energy flowed through her body at his touch. She knew
that touch. Hell, she’d feel that touch even if she had on three layers of
clothing. Tristan had always had that effect on her.
“Cree, wait. We need to talk,” he said by way
of greeting. His deep baritone sent goosebumps racing over her skin. She didn’t
want to talk, and she sure as hell didn’t want to look at him, but she had to.
When she
turned to face him, anger nipped at every nerve in her body. Damn him for
looking so good. He was still the finest man on the face of the planet with
honey-brown skin, eyes the color of almonds with flecks of gold around his
irises, and twin dimples in his cheeks.
As if
knowing she was admiring his beautiful face, he amped up his smile, and she
cursed under her breath.
Damn those
twin dimples. The ones deep enough in his cheeks to stick her fingers in. And
damn him for flashing them so freely in public knowing they were babe magnets.
“We have
nothing to talk about,” she spat, anger lacing the words.
“On the
contrary, baby. We have a lot to discuss.”
Cree
turned from him and moved just beyond the threshold, but he held on to the back
of her jacket while he stood in the doorway. He didn’t seem to care he was
blocking the entrance, keeping anyone from entering or exiting. The small crowd
that had formed around him minutes ago was still there, vying for the attention
of the other former NFL player whose name had slipped her mind.
As for
Tristan, Cree didn’t want to talk to him. That would only encourage him to keep
showing up everywhere she went.
No, she
needed to stay as far away from the man as possible. His presence was a
hindrance to her peace of mind. It was because of him that she had trust
issues, especially when it came to men. He was the reason she had taken on the
motto—don’t let anyone get too close because in the end they’ll only betray
you.
“The old
Cree didn’t run from anything,” he said, his voice lowered. “Yet, you’ve run
from me twice in a matter of weeks.”
Her jaw
clenched and unclenched. “The old Cree would’ve already kneed you in the balls
to make you release my jacket. Either let me go or...”
Tristan
flinched, then quickly released her jacket and chuckled. “I see you’re still
mean as hell.” The words weren’t spoken in a negative way. There was humor in
his tone and in his eyes. “Please,” he said, all humor wiped from his face. “I
really do need to talk to you.”
Cree
searched his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She almost gave in to his
request until she remembered—she hated him.
“There’s
nothing for us to discuss. As a matter of fact, forget you ever saw me, and if
you see me out and about, don’t even look at me.
“And on
that note, goodbye, Tristan.”
Now all
she had to do was forget she’d ever seen him. Which might be easier said than
done.
Don’t miss the
rest of the series! They can be read as standalones!
USA Today
bestselling author Sharon C. Cooper loves anything involving romance with a
happily-ever-after, whether in books, movies, or real life. She writes
contemporary romance, romantic suspense, as well as romantic comedy. She enjoys
rainy days, carpet picnics, and family game night. Her stories have won
numerous awards, including The Rochelle Alers Best Series award for her
Atlanta’s Finest Series (2022) and The Beverly Jenkins Author of the Year award
(2021). When she isn’t writing, Sharon loves hanging out with her amazing
husband, doing volunteer work, or reading a good book (a romance of course). To
read more about Sharon and her novels, or to sign up to be notified of her
latest releases, visit www.sharoncooper.net
Angela Knight is here to tell us about The Dhampir, a destined mates vampire romance novella, dark fantasy.
Read on for more...
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A Destined Mates Vampire Romance Novella
Dark Fantasy Romance
Date Published: January 2, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
An ancient vampire, Hunter can command any woman he wants -- except the
one woman he needs. His mate.
Genevieve Drake is a Dhampir -- half vampire, half mortal, born and bred to be
the perfect complement to her vampire mate, like those of her family for
sixteen generations. Instead, she chose to become a cop. Three months ago she
survived a vicious attack by a psychotic ex that left her with psychic scars
and a desperate need for a new line of work. Time to rethink her future.
Hunter is tall, dark and handsome -- and very, very powerful. He’s also
been waiting for Genevieve. She was just eighteen when he had a vision that
they’d one day become lovers. He’s been biding his time ever
since. But Genevieve’s experiences have left her unable to trust any
man, even Hunter.
If he wants them to have a future, the vampire will have to find a way to
banish her ghosts…
The vampire's bodyguard was sloppy when he searched Genevieve Drake. He
missed at least three places where she could have stashed weapons. Would have
stashed weapons, if she hadn't been going to an interview for a job she
desperately needed. To add insult to injury, he smirked up at her when he
crouched at her feet to pat her down, hands lingering on her thighs and
calves.
Genevieve gave serious thought to kneeing him in the jaw.
Finally, after a last knowing leer, the guard ushered her into Hunter's
sprawling office, then closed the heavy double doors and left them alone.
"Ms. Drake." Tall, radiating a power that made her Dhampir senses
vibrate like harp strings, the vampire stepped around his big rosewood desk to
shake Genevieve's hand, his grip careful and warm. His touch sent a flush of
magic radiating up her arm. Her mouth went dry, and she felt her nipples peak.
"It's a pleasure."
Her body's intense response surprised her. She'd felt dead from the neck
down for months. "Please call me Genevieve, Mr. Hunter." Not Genny. Never
Genny. Smiling up at him, she used all her years undercover to keep her
expression no more than pleasantly professional.
"It's just Hunter," the vampire said in a black velvet purr of a voice.
He gave her a slow, white smile, his eyes the sharp and startling blue of an
arctic wolf. His features were starkly masculine, with a long swoop of a nose
and a broad, square chin. His hair was thick and black, just long enough to
touch his collar.
He gestured her away from his desk toward two armchairs that sat facing
each other. Just beyond the chairs, a plate glass window ran the length of the
room. Sixty stories below, the glittering glory of Atlanta spread across the
night.
As Hunter ushered her to the chairs, Genevieve studied him. If anything,
the vampire was more impressive than she remembered. Easily six-foot-two, he
had a powerful build that made him look like a warrior even camouflaged in
black Armani. His tie was a splash of crimson against his white shirt, while
cufflinks of onyx and gold adorned his French cuffs.
"It's good to see you again," Hunter said as they sat. The chairs were
positioned so close, their knees almost touched. It was not exactly the
arrangement she'd have expected for a job interview -- but then, this was not
a typical job interview. "You were what -- fifteen? -- when last I saw you."
"Sixteen," Genevieve corrected. And madly infatuated with you. But that
was something she had no intention of sharing. And anyway, it had been
fourteen years ago.
Before Gary. Before she'd been left bleeding in a dirty alley with the
last of her illusions in shreds.
Hunter probably knew about her painfully intense crush. Probably knew
about Gary, too, for that matter. As her father always said, you can't hide
anything from a vampire, so don't even try. "It was good of you to grant me
this interview."
"Not at all. I need an assistant, and you have excellent
qualifications." He watched her settle back into the chair's soft wine red
leather. His gaze sharpened. "Something concerns you."
Genevieve hesitated, caught between her desire not to offend and her
sense of duty. She needed the job, but her family had been Dhampir for sixteen
generations.
Duty won. "Your bodyguard was more interested in feeling me up than in
making sure I wasn't armed. I could have knocked him cold at least twice. In
my opinion, he constitutes a security risk."
Hunter lifted a cool black brow. "He's a former Navy SEAL."
"And a current idiot."
"You are blunt, bordering on rude." Hunter smiled, satisfaction in his
eyes. "And every bit as fearless as I would have expected of Tommy Drake's
daughter."
She relaxed back into her chair. "Well, that's a relief."
"That I took the criticism well?" His arctic eyes heated to burning blue
as he watched her cross her legs. Her knee inadvertently brushed his, and the
contact sent magic flaring up her thigh. Straight into her sex.
She tried to ignore the pulse of erotic heat that flared low in her
belly. "No, I'm relieved you ordered your man to play the fool to test my
honesty. I'd hate to think you'd hire someone that sloppy."
The vampire laughed, a deep, masculine rumble, seductive and warm. "No,
I have not survived three hundred and forty years by surrounding myself with
sloppy bodyguards. And there've been times even careful ones..." Hunter
stopped and rolled his powerful shoulders as if shrugging off a painful
memory.
"Sometimes it doesn't matter how careful or well-trained you are."
Genevieve's voice dropped to a whisper. "Especially if you're betrayed."
He studied her, going still as a predator. Seeing too much. "The scars
from betrayal go to the soul. And they never quite fade, do they?"
"Not so far." Genevieve forced a smile and deliberately sought to turn
the conversation back to business. "What are you looking for in a personal
assistant?"
You, Hunter thought.
About the Author
New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published
more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and
Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades,
Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement
award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for
Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.
Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press
LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work,
Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South
Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband,
Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police
department.
She'll destroy the mobsters who murdered her brother...
unless they kill her first.
Dark Erotic Romance
Mafia
FBI Assassin
A Woman with Nothing to Lose
District cop Lia Blosky warned her
twin brother not to get involved with the Valesky Crime Family. He didn’t
listen. Now, he’s dead, tortured horribly before mobsters murdered him. Out for
blood, she’ll do anything to see these monsters dead.
FBI Special Agent Adrian Kalin is
connected to the Valesky Family in a way he loathes and doesn’t want. His
stepfather rules the syndicate and is tired of Lia threatening to kill him and
others responsible for her brother’s death. To shut her up for good, he orders
Adrian to murder her. Who better than an FBI agent who has no connection to her
and knows how to hide evidence?
Adrian resists, but if it comes down
to saving Lia or his brothers and mother from Dimitri’s rage, he’ll have to
choose family.
In a deadly game between each other
and the mob, Lia and Adrian fight to survive… while also surrendering to their
undeniable attraction to each other.
This is book two in the Valesky Crime Family series, can be
enjoyed independently and has an HEA.
PRAISE FOR PRIVILEGE
FIVE STARS
"This was a simply wonderful and captivating read...it is simply impossible to put the book down until you reach the end of the book and discover the outcome." Sue B
"Great book. This is the 1st book I've read written by Tina Donahue; I can’t wait to read more of her books." - Jeanne
"Awesome book, can't wait to read more of the series." - Arin
Joanna Campbell Slan is here to tell us about Resort Two Murder, book 20 in the Kiki Lowenstein mystery series, a cozy mystery.
There's also a great giveaway.
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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Joanna Campbell Slan will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Kiki Lowenstein heads to Florida for sand, sunshine, and family time—until a shocking death pulls her into a mystery simmering beneath the resort’s perfect surface. With craftiness and heart, she dives into a dangerous tangle of lies that only she can unravel.
Read an Excerpt
The scream ripped through the dawn and straight into my spine. I didn’t breathe until I reached the balcony.
Seven floors below, a housekeeper stood frozen at the pool’s edge, hands over her mouth. The turquoise water rippled around hair the color of fire.
“I don’t know yet. Stay back. Keep your brothers inside.” My voice didn’t tremble, but everything inside me did.
I yanked the curtains closed, but not before my mind captured every detail: the purple satin gown billowing under the water, the bare feet, the drifting red hair like a drowning sunrise.
Then Brawny — my fierce, loyal Scot nanny — sprinted into the courtyard and dove in, shoes and all. She flipped the girl over, started mouth-to-mouth, refusing to accept what the water already knew.
Could this be real?
Sirens wailed in the distance. And I stood frozen on the balcony, one hand pressed to my heart, silently begging for a miracle.
It didn’t come.
The red-haired model from last night’s fashion show was gone.
About the Author:
Joanna Campbell Slan is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestselling author known for her engaging women's fiction and mystery novels. With nearly 80 books to her credit, including contributions to the original Chicken Soup for the Soul series, Joanna specializes in stories featuring strong female protagonists and the power of women's friendships. Her tagline, "Creating a better world one story at a time” perfectly captures the spirit of her work, as she has a keen interest in presenting all sides of social issues. Joanna is best known for her Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series, which spans 19 books and 42 short works, chronicling the growth of a widowed mother who finds new purpose through crafting and sleuthing.
Living on a nearly deserted island off the coast of Florida, Joanna draws inspiration from her surroundings and her love for various crafts, including Zentangle®, crochet, and upcycling. Her accomplishments include winning the Daphne du Maurier Award for Literary Excellence for her continuation of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre. Contact her at JCSlan@JoannaSlan.com
Lisabet Sarai is here to tell us about Her Secret Ingredient, a gourmet erotic rom com, featuring multicultural characters, BDSM, public sex, and femdom.
The first edition of Her Secret Ingredient was published more than a decade ago. At the time, I was pretty much of a novice at writing romance, as well as clueless about the genre as a whole. The impetus for the title was a series my publisher was doing called “What’s her secret?”. I had an inspiration, created a quick, steamy contemporary story about an ambitious young woman whose plans spectacularly backfire, and marketed it as contemporary erotic romance.
I know a lot more now about all the genres and sub-genres, labels and tropes, under the big tent of romance. As I was editing the manuscript for this new edition, I found myself grinning frequently and sometimes, laughing out loud. This is better than I remembered, I thought. It’s really pretty funny. But I didn’t fully understand what was going on until I went to publish the book on Amazon and saw that one of the category options was romantic comedy.
Something clicked. Of course! I didn’t sit down to write a rom-com, but this book has many of the typical features of the genre: embarrassing mishaps, unexpected misdirections, a hint of the wacky, and a smart but in some ways clueless heroine who doesn’t realize she’s going after the wrong guy. It’s not as wild and woolly as one of Julia Kent’s tales (she’s the rom-com goddess, in my view), but it’s moving in that direction.
So if you pick up a copy of the book (and I do hope you will), don’t expect anything too serious. Except the love, of course. That’s about as serious as things can get.
Blurb:
Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion.
When the Tastes of France
food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at
the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately,
she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred
network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world
of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is
skeptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make
things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can’t
help being attracted to him.
Emily tries to solve both
problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental
aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer
for Emily’s show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne’s consumption.
His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to
them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set.
However, he can’t do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily
tries once more to tempt the exacting Monsieur Duvalier with her special
cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end
her TV career forever—until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her
heart.
Excerpt (Adult):
“Hi, Emily! Got a minute?” Harry breezed into the studio kitchen, waving a clipboard. “Got a few things I need to go over with you, before tomorrow’s show. Do you want to be introduced as ‘Mei Lee’, or should we use your English name? And what about your certifications? Do you want the full list in the credits, or just your Michelin rating?” He stopped in his tracks when he saw the feast I’d assembled. “Holy smokes! That looks absolutely scrumptious!”
“Thanks. Let’s just hope that Etienne agrees.” I couldn’t quite keep the pride out of my voice. There weren’t many chefs who could put together a meal like this in four hours, without assistants and under pressure, in a kitchen not their own.
“Even our Monsieur le Chef can be swayed by great food. The desserts—oh, I’ve just got to try one of these…”
“No! Harry—”
Before I could stop him, though, he’d nipped a cream puff off the pile and popped it into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he chewed and swallowed.
“Unbelievable! Give me another.”
“Please, no!” I grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. He’d already devoured a second choux. “Those are supposed to be for Etienne.”
“Come on, you’ve made at least two dozen. He won’t miss one or two.” Harry made as if to reach for a third puff. I hung on, trying to restrain him, but he was far stronger than I was. Under that dorky clothing, I felt his muscles tense and shift.
He halted, his fingers inches away from their target, as if suddenly aware of my touch. Turning away from the tower of pastries, he gazed down at me. Behind his glasses, his mocha-colored eyes gleamed with powerful purpose.
“Harry?” My stomach did a somersault. My cheeks felt as though they’d just come out of the oven. Meanwhile he held me in that fierce, all-consuming stare.
I still had a grip on his left arm, near the shoulder. He reached out to rest his hand on my shoulder, as if we were about to dance. “You know, I actually see something a lot sweeter right here.” Sliding his palm down my back, he pulled me to his chest with a decisiveness that sent my pulse into overdrive. When he leaned in close, I smelled the almonds on his breath.
“Harry…I don’t think…”
“Shh!” He enforced this directive by fastening his mouth on mine in an energetic kiss.
He tasted, unsurprisingly, of sugar and cream. His firm lips molded to mine while his tongue teased at the seam, coaxing me to open. I shouldn’t have given in, but I honestly couldn’t help it. He might look like a bit of a nerd, but this guy really knew what he was doing. Wet but not sloppy, forceful but not brutal, alternating between deep penetration and playful flickering, he kissed with consummate sensuality. All I wanted was to swoon in his arms, to let him take me over. He seemed eager to oblige.
Cupping my ass in his palm, he yanked my pelvis against his. I gasped at the size and rigidity of the lump pressed against my pubis. My nipples snapped into aching knots and moisture flooded my already damp panties. He laced the fingers of his other hand through my hair, using them to control the position of my head as he drank his fill of me.
His mouth slipped away from mine to nuzzle below my ear, somehow finding the precise spot that’s directly connected to my clit. Meanwhile he groped my breasts, squeezing hard—harder than I usually like, but now I actually wanted more.
Apparently he did, too. He tugged at my blouse, trying to pull it out from the waistband of my skirt, and finally succeeding. The first graze of his fingertips along my naked skin sent a wave of arousal crashing through me.
“Wait—no—aah…oh…” My protests faltered as he deftly extricated one of my breasts and caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the taut node of flesh, twisted it, flicked it back and forth. I swear I felt him doing the same to my clit. At the same time, he caught my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it like a pup with a toy.
Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing—and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his glutes flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.
I’d never doubt my grandmother again.
Praise for Her Secret Ingredient:
Her Secret Ingredient was a great short
story. I loved the unique plot, the realistically drawn characters and the
writing style. ~ Lucy Felthouse, Goodreads
I've always been a sucker for books set in
the kitchen, and even as outlandishly over the top as this one is, it was a lot
of fun…lighthearted and silly and sinfully sexy. ~ Steph, The Romance
Reviews
