When the summer sun beats down on the beach, Crimson Romance turns up the sizzle between the pages. From hot bikers to powerful venture capitalists and those oh-so-sexy military men in—and out—of uniform, these ten books put the spotlight on the heroes who make us melt. It’s a collection of our steamiest stories by these rising stars:
The Wicked Bad—Karyn Gerrard
Prelude to a Seduction—Lotchie Burton
Inventing Sin—Alicia Thorne
His Fantasy Maid—Susan Blexrud
Island Pursuits—Heather Rodney-Diaz
Dangerous Love—Lilou DuPont
Her New Worst Enemy—Christy McKellen
Blitzkrieg Love—Livia Olteano
As If You Never Left Me—Katriena Knights
His Fantasy Maid: Dr. Amy Maitland is a first year resident physician, but she leads a double life…as a fantasy maid.
Her New Worst Enemy: Ellie’s no-strings weekend fling with her brother’s best friend should be the easiest thing in the world to walk away from, so why is she finding it so difficult?
The Wicked Bad: Is Veronica a good girl who longs to rub against…The Wicked Bad?
Infamous: Hollywood’s favorite wild child moves to the ‘burbs in this heart-warming romance that Amazon reviewers call fun, flirty, and 10 kinds of hot.
Blitzkrieg Love: The story of two wrongs making a thrilling right, a Harlequin Junkie “ominous,heart-wrenching” recommended read.
Inventing Sin: Dumped by her ho-hum boyfriend, English professor Gabriella Kurtz invents the perfect imaginary man to replace him . . . and gets the surprise of her lifetime when a real flesh-and-blood hero takes advantage of her little white lie.
Prelude to a Seduction: Can an unexpected romance develop between an over confident on the prowl playboy and his unsuspecting and uncompromising prey?
Dangerous Love: In Prague, Laura explores her sexuality by embarking on an erotic love affair that challenges her deeply held beliefs.
Island Pursuits: Adrian and Cory begin a sizzling affair in their island paradise—but what they both discover about the past threatens to destroy any chance of a happily ever after.
As If You Never Left Me: Rey wants Joely back, But will his carefully laid plans disintegrate when she finds out what really brought him home to Colorado?
Dark and brooding, Nick Crocetti is a bad boy in looks and demeanor. Veronica Barnes needs a new start, and Nick is a complication she doesn’t need.
Can they break down the barriers of past heartbreak, or is Veronica just a good girl who longs to rub against “the wicked bad”?
She followed him toward the beach. The shoreline wasn’t very big, but private, as you couldn’t see the road or much else from their vantage point. Wonder how many other women he brought here, she thought cynically.
He spread the blanket and assisted her in sitting down. Again, the touch of his hand made her face flush as well as parts further south. Nick sat next to her with one leg bent and he rested his arm on the top of his knee. They sat quietly and gazed out over the water. The waves caressed the sand with a serene almost hypnotic sound.
“I saw you talking to that wuss, Jake Spooner, as I left the other day. I can imagine what he said about me,” Nick said in a voice so soft, she hardly recognized it as his.
Veronica cleared her throat uncomfortably.
Nick laughed. “I see. Go on, amuse me, what did he say?”
“Um, he said you were in prison—” she began.
“Jail. Not prison,” he retorted.
“There’s a difference?”
“You’ve got the cop for a brother, you tell me,” Nick snapped. He shook his head, more gently he said, “Sorry. It’s a touchy subject. City jail, for assault and destruction of property. Prison usually means a state or federal beef. Mine was local and a long time ago. I did my time and it’s over. I don’t like talking about it.”
“He called you a thug and said you deal drugs among other things.” She shouldn’t be telling him this, but the words tumbled out of her.
“Really? And still you went out with me? Are you some thrill seeker, one of those good girls eager to rub up against some wicked bad? Is that why you’re here? I’ll be as bad as you want, just say the word.”
His voice grew tight and edgy. Barely restrained anger simmered below the surface, she could hear it.
“I’m just telling you what Jake said, you asked.”
Nick stared at her for several moments. “Yeah. I did. Sorry. I haven’t been out on a date in awhile.”
“You haven’t been with any women…”
“Oh, I didn’t say I haven’t been with women, just haven’t been on a date.” The right corner of his mouth twitched in what Veronica supposed was amusement.
Karyn lives in a small town in the western corner of Ontario, Canada. She wiles away her spare time writing and reading romance while drinking copious amounts of Earl Grey tea. Tortured heroes are a must. A multi-published author with a few best-sellers under her belt, Karyn loves to write in different genres and time periods, though historicals are her favorite.
As long as she can avoid being hit by a runaway moose in her wilderness paradise she assumes everything is golden.
Karyn’s been happily married for a long time to her own hero. His encouragement keeps her moving forward.
Infamous by Irene Preston
Jessica Sinclair is Hollywood’s favorite wild-child, so what’s she doing burning cookies and playing house in the ‘burbs? Conservative soccer dad Morgan Riley can’t figure it out but he’s happy to have her home and heating things up in his bed. Then Jessica finds herself back in the tabloids…with Morgan’s teenage daughter right next to her.
In the elevator, he fumbled for the room key that would allow them access to the suites on the top floors. His hands felt big and awkward as they swiped the key through the reader. If you stripped me naked on the hors d’oeuvres table. . . .Christ. She always had a way of knocking him off balance, of peeling away every last bit of self control. She had thrown the words out so casually, and as soon as she said them he had pictured doing just that—imagined shoving aside the crudités and shrimp cocktail and spreading her out like his own personal feast.
The doors closed and she was in his arms. He pushed her against the elevator wall, his tongue thrusting urgently into her mouth. She wound around him, humming incoherent words of encouragement. They weren’t nearly close enough. She tilted her head back, inviting his tongue deeper. He was drowning in the taste of her when he felt her hands slide down between them. His body jerked.
They were still in the elevator. He was damned if he was going to make love in a public elevator. He managed to wrest her hands away from him and anchored them above her head with one of his own.
“Not here.” Could she hear the desperation in his voice?
Irene Preston has to write romances-after all, she’s living one! As a starving college student, she met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off her rose-colored glasses.
His Fantasy Maid by Susan Blexrud
On the eve of Jake Sinclair’s bachelor party, his best man
surprises him with a fantasy maid named Amy. Clad in a bikini, she cleans his
house and jump starts his heart. She’s beautiful, smart, and compassionate. Why
is a woman like this working as a fantasy maid? A few days later, with thoughts
still distracted by the enigmatic Amy, Jake crashes his car and wakes in the
hospital emergency room where his fantasy maid is now wearing scrubs and
wielding a stethoscope. Is she an hallucination, or is his fantasy maid a
If I believed the adage, “you are what you do,” my self-concept would be in the toilet, so to speak. I clean houses in a bikini or French maid get-up, client’s choice, which contributes little to making the world a better
place. As a result, my adage is, “you are what you become,” because I’m becoming a doctor.
But today, I’m Amy Maitland, fantasy maid.
My best friend and fellow medical resident, Ellen, knows about my undercover life
working for Fantasy Maids, but she’s the only one. If word got out at the College of Medicine,
I’d be the laughingstock of the University of Central Florida. My five brothers know I work as a housemaid,
which they respect as good, honest labor, but they don’t know the fantasy
aspect. Protective (and controlling) men that they are, they’d lock me up.
That being said, it’s not the worst job in the world. I’ve been a fantasy maid for almost two years, and so far, none
of my clients has tried to assault me. But it’s always a possibility, considering Florida’s propensity for perverts. The company (i.e. Rex, the owner, and a part-time secretary) arms us with pepper spray and an emergency hotline
number (Rex’s cell phone), and they screen the customers to make sure no one’s a registered sex offender. They
also arrange our appointments, and Rex is good about following up…within four or five days…to make sure we
survived the gig.
Susan Blexrud hails from Orlando but currently lives in the mountains of Asheville,
North Carolina, where she quilts, watches birds, leads a monthly romance book
club, and conjures her next romance novel.
Dangerous Love by Lilou DuPont
In Prague, Laura feels that she has met her soulmate. Yet how can her soul merge with the son of a Nazi? After being passed over for a promotion at a Chicago advertising agency, Laura cashes in her stock options, quits her job, and moves to Prague. There, she begins an erotic romance with Byron, only to discover that he is German and his father was in the Hitler Youth. As an observant Jew, Laura has deep misgivings about becoming involved with the son of a Nazi, but the attraction between them is so strong that she cannot resist.
“Oh!” Laura cried out. There were other passengers in the railcar, but Byron did not seem to care. Presumably, he knew what they could (or could not) get away with on a train in Europe. He glided his hand past her panties and went right for her gash.
“Oh!” she cried out again. Their railcar entered a tunnel while another train blasted by them, gusting in the opposite direction. They were engulfed by a deep rumble and darkness. Byron sheltered her in his arms, protecting her from any danger. When they emerged from the tunnel, they were overwhelmed by sunlight.
He covered her eyes with his hands, as if blindfolding her. Finally, he kissed her on the mouth. His fingers separated, allowing in a burst of white light. It was ordinary daylight and she was on a midday train, somewhere in Bohemia. Yet it was more like being on Space Mountain at Disney World. Would Byron get the reference?
The tip of his tongue entered her mouth and teased her. She wanted it down her throat. From the tacky seat, she lifted up her buttocks, struggling to be as close to him as possible.
He reached inside the low, scooped out neckline of her peasant dress. He attacked her nipples, brushing them back and forth. Laura was so stimulated she wanted to scream. He restrained her by kissing her again. Now his tongue aggressively explored her. She sucked on it, wanting much, much more.
Lilou DuPont graduated from Bryn Mawr College with a degree in Philosophy and studied Erotic Writing at The New School in New York City. She lives in Washington, DC where she enjoys a successful advertising career and a large circle of friends. Dangerous Love is her first novel. She is at work on her second book, a spy romance set in Bucharest, Romania. Vampires? No. Gypsies? Yes.
Her New Worst Enemy by Christy McKellen
Six months ago Ellie Holdsworthy’s lifewas all planned out – kids, wedding, happy ever after – until her boyfrienddumped her for another woman. Now her best friend, Penny – an heiress to asmall fortune – looks set to run off with a gold-digger and Ellie is determinedto save her from certain doom. Unfortunately, the only person who can help isthe one person she’d rather not ask…
Little does Ellie know, persuading herbrother’s best friend – commitment phobic, playboy businessman, Gideon DeLancy- to hold an intervention at his beautiful Georgian manor would be the easypart. Keeping her hands off him is a whole other matter.
Gideon grasped her wrists and pulled them behind herbody, pushing her breasts forwards even more. He held both wrists captive withone hand and pressed his body closer to her, trapping them. She gasped as hiserection pushed against the top of her buttocks.
“See how much you turn me on,” he whispered again intoher ear, his eyes not leaving hers in the reflection.
Blood pounded between her legs causing a hard ache ofneed, and she pushed her buttocks against him, loving the feeling of hisobvious arousal for her.
As she stared back at the mirror she was amazed to seehow different she looked now. Her breasts were high and full pushed forward andwith her pelvis tipped back, her stomach seemed flatter and tighter. For thefirst time in a very long time she looked at her body, really looked at it, andliked what she saw.
“You see,” he said, kissing along the top of hershoulder. “Gorgeous.”
He released his hold on her captured wrists and ranhis fingers across where her collar bones pushed against her flesh, to the dipof her neck, then skimmed down over her breasts, down her stomach to the top ofher jeans.
He pulled the buttons roughly open and slipped hishands inside, under her panties, before pushing them down over her legs.
“Step out of them,” he murmured, and she did as shewas told. She was now standing naked in front of a mirror. In front of Gideon.
“Bend forward and put your hands against the mirror,”he said.
“What?” Her voice was shaky and light with arousal.
“Just do it, Ellie,” he said, kicking her clothes awayfrom them.
B.K. (Before Kids) Christy worked as a Video and RadioProducer in London and Nottingham. After a decade of dealing with nappies,tantrums and endless questions from toddlers, she’s come out the other side andmoved into the wonderful world of literature. She now spends her time writingflirty, sexy romance with a kick (her dream job!).
Blitzkreig Love by Livia Olteano
“Don’t try to be my hero. Don’t care about me. Don’t let go.”Twenty-two-year-old Beatrice Stevens lives to dance. Two years ago she walked in on the picture of horror: after stabbing her mom 34 times, her father killed himself. She found his corpse still clutching at her mom’s, determined not to let go of her even in death. Now Beatrice freaks out if she’s hugged, loomed over or receives attention from daddy-type guys. Unless she’s dancing—the one thing that feeds her soul and saves her time after time.Anthony Gowl wants Beatrice from the moment she bumps her adorable nose into his chest. That desire turns into a burning need after he sees her dance. But he’s the overprotective type—he can’t help it, it’s part of him ever since his sister ODed seven years ago. His savior complex makes him the perfect opposite of what Beatrice needs.But she can’t seem to shake him. He’s both scary and exciting, even when he kneels at her feet. And the closer he gets, the more that toxic waste in her soul threatens to explode.
“Jesus freaking Christ, yes! I’m comin — ”
I froze there. Right before me stood tall, gorgeous, and annoying Anthony Gowl. And he was grinning.
“Is this a nightmare?” I muttered under my breath.
“Judging by your sleepwear, more of a fantasy. But I’m awake, so I don’t know what that makes this.”
I frowned and looked down. My sleepwear was a pair of shorts and a top. Well, not showing more skin than the costumes. “What’s wrong with my sleepwear?”
“Not a thing. But it looks so … intimate. I like your morning look. Truly beautiful women are beautiful right when they wake up.”
I snorted. “Whatever. You clearly know nothing of women if you think that. Now what are you doing here?”
“Will you let me in, or are we talking on the hall?”
I thought about it. The only other person living here was Doug, so I was sort of okay talking in the door like that. But he just looked so hopeful, like a puppy. I almost felt bad to keep him there. So I shrugged and turned around, heading for the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. Want some?”
The door clicked closed behind him. “Sure, thanks.”
“Sit down or whatever,” I called over my shoulder.
Once the coffee was all done, I poured two mugs of it and brought them into the living room. He’d settled down on the couch, coat shrugged off. He wore chocolate brown pants and a lovely, crisp, white shirt. Not clean-shaven like he’d been the night before, and I sort of liked this look better. There was something about men with a maximum of three days’ growth that was incredibly sexy. I left his mug on the coffee table and walked into the bedroom, put on a pair of sweats. Sitting with him on my couch, him in a suit and me in shorts just seemed wrong on so many levels.
“Don’t dress up on my account. I liked your earlier outfit — ”
I held up my hand and took a few gulps of coffee. The nectar of the gods slid down my throat and made me incredibly happy. I truly woke up then, my brain getting its gears in motion.
I sighed with delight then fixed my eyes on him. “Okay, now I’m ready to begin the day. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I think I liked you better before the coffee. You were so soft and pliable … ”
I squinted my eyes and took another gulp. “Start talking or I’m calling Doug to throw you out.”
Livia Olteano is a loud and proud coffee addict, lover of all things beautiful and incurable romantic.She believes stories are the best kind of magic there is. And life would be horrible without magic. Her hobbies include losing herself in the minds and souls of characters, giving up countless nights of sleep to get to know said characters, and trying to introduce them to the world. Sometimes they appreciate her efforts. The process would probably go quicker if they’d bring her a cup of coffee now and then when stopping by. Characters—what can you do, right?Stop by www.liviaolteano.com or the blog, http://blog.liviaolteano.com, for the latest news and rants of glory.
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