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Tag: Celia Aaron

Donna’s Review of The Bad Guy by Celia Aaron

by Celia Aaron
Genres: Dark Romance

 

Title: The Bad Guy
Author: Celia Aaron
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: May 21, 2017

 

Blurb
My name is Sebastian Lindstrom, and I’m the villain of this
story.
I’ve decided to lay myself bare. To tell the truth for once
in my hollow life, no matter how dark it gets. And I can assure you, it will
get so dark that you’ll find yourself feeling around the blackened corners of
my mind, seeking a door handle that isn’t there.
Don’t mistake this for a confession. I neither seek
forgiveness nor would I accept it. My sins are my own. They keep me company.
Instead, this is the true tale of how I found her, how I stole her, and how I
lost her.
She was a damsel, one who already had her white knight. But
every fairy tale has a villain, someone waiting in the wings to rip it all
down. A scoundrel who will set the world on fire if that means he gets what he
wants. That’s me.
I’m the bad guy.

 

Purchase Links
$2.99 for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited

 

Review
This book is a hard one to review for me, I couldn’t really connect with the story or the characters and that’s what makes this so hard. I fell in love with the blurb and love the cover but the love was soon stopped with the arrogance and unfeeling nature of Sebastian. He has a weird way about him that I just didn’t like.

This book how ever was extremely well written but that’s as much as I can say really. I would still say for people to read this book as it may just be up your street. Just because I don’t feel it. You may well. That what reviewing is all about. Each to there own. Different horse for different course. Go pick it up, you may be surprised.

Reviewed by Donna

Author Bio

Celia Aaron is a recovering attorney who loves romance and erotic fiction. Dark to light, angsty to funny, real to fantasy—if it’s hot and strikes her fancy, she writes it. Thanks for reading.

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Blog Tour & Review: Kicked by Celia Aaron

by Celia Aaron
Genres: Sports Romance

 

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  Amazon AU

 

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Trent Carrington.

Trent Mr. Perfect-Has-Everyone-Fooled Carrington.

He’s the star quarterback, university scholar, and happens to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He shines at any angle, and especially under the Saturday night stadium lights where I watch him from the sidelines. But I know the real him, the one who broke my heart and pretended I didn’t exist for the past two years.

I’m the third-string kicker, the only woman on the team and nothing better than a mascot. Until I’m not. Until I get my chance to earn a full scholarship and join the team as first-string. The only way I’ll make the cut is to accept help from the one man I swore to never trust again. The problem is, with each stolen glance and lingering touch, I begin to realizing that trusting Trent isn’t the problem. It’s that I can’t trust myself when I’m around him.

 

This is a full-length, standalone American football romance novel with hot guys in tight pants who really know how to handle their balls.

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“Cordy?”

I turned over and buried my head under a pillow.

Deep laughter and his voice again. “Cordy? We’re going to miss practice.”

Practice? Something was off. My dorm room bed didn’t have enough space for me to roll over and stretch out. I pulled my head from beneath the pillow and blinked against the sun streaming into the room. Not my room.

“Shit!” I clutched the blanket to me and blinked the sleep away.

Trent stood at the foot of the bed, his hair wet as if freshly showered. And, sweet baby Jesus, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Dark hair dusted his broad chest, ran down the center of his hard abs, and disappeared into his athletic shorts.

I swallowed hard.

“Want me to take you back to your dorm so you can get ready?”

“I, uh.” I looked around at the room—dark wood floors, high ceilings, and a wall of windows looking out onto the city park. Elegant and understated, it was easily the nicest bedroom I’d ever been in. I still wore the sweater dress, but my boots were sitting by the door, and my belt was draped over a dresser. “How did I get here?”

“You were out by the time we got back. I figured it would be easier if you slept here.”

I glanced to the other side of the bed. It was still made.

He followed my gaze. “I slept in the guest room next door.”

“Oh.” Was that disappointment in my voice?

He walked around and sat next to me, his golden skin and light eyes making heat swirl in my stomach. “I called the doctor first thing. Your dad is doing better and is set to be released this afternoon. He’ll be transported straight to the rehab. It’s all taken care of.”

“Thank you.”

He took my hand. “You’re welcome.” He stared down at me for a few beats, and something in his look had my skin heating. His gaze darted to my lips, and he tensed. The longer he looked, the more it seemed as if my lungs couldn’t get enough air. But he pulled his hand away and stood. “I, um, I’ve already set out some breakfast we can grab and go.” He walked into a large closet next to what looked like an en suite bathroom. He snagged a team t-shirt and pulled it over his head as he walked out of the bedroom. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

All the heat he’d stoked inside me dissipated and left me feeling on edge.

I rose and took a tour of his marble bathroom with clear glass shower and soaking tub, then walked out the door and into the sunny living room. He leaned on the granite bar in the kitchen. A bagel, already slathered with cream cheese, sat at the ready along with a travel cup of orange juice.

“You can eat on the way.” He finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

I snagged the food and the juice. “I love bagels.”

“Yeah?” He dropped his gaze.

I took a big bite as I followed him to his front door. “And this is my favorite flavor of cream cheese.”

“Good to know.” He walked around the kitchen island and toward the front door.

I took in his spacious apartment. The living room was full of leather furniture, a big screen TV, and a plush rug that I wanted to run my hand across.

He opened the door and led me out, then closed it behind him and locked it. We rode the elevator down to his car, and the drive to my dorm was less than ten minutes. I ate my bagel and downed the last of my juice as he parked.

“I’ll wait here for you and drive you to practice. It’s faster that way.”

I opened the door, a blast of frigid air whipping into the warm car, then turned to him. “Come on up. I don’t mind.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile, and he killed the engine. “Sure.”

Brandy waved us through and gave Trent a wink. I pretended I didn’t see it and climbed the two flights of stairs to my floor. Trent walked behind me, his presence making my skin warm and my mind wander. I fumbled with the keys, but managed to make it into my room without dropping them.

Trent followed and closed the door behind him. Ellie was out, but had left a half-eaten piece of peanut butter toast on her bed, crumbs and all.

I walked to my closet and picked out a t-shirt, athletic pants, and fresh underwear. Ellie’s dress had served me well over the last day and a half, but I was ready to be rid of it.

“Just make yourself at home.” I turned as Trent sat at the foot of my bed. He watched me, never taking his eyes from me as I strode to the bathroom. “I’ll shower and dress right quick.”

“I’ll be here. We’re making good time. Practice doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes.” He lay back and tucked his hands under his head, his broad back taking up almost all my double bed.

A shock of need shot through my pussy, and I scissored my legs to fight the sensation. He followed the movement and licked his lips.

“I, um, shower, yeah.” I hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered to myself, though the scolding did nothing to chill my need for Trent. He’d looked like a powerful cat lounging on my bed.

After peeling off the dress, I took a short shower to wash off the stress of the past few days. Halfway through, my fingers dipped to my pussy as I thought of Trent laid out on my bed. God, why did he have to be so gorgeous? I stroked myself a few times before forcing my fingers to stop. He might hear, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him busting me touching myself in the shower.

I dried off, put on fresh clothes, and wrapped my towel around my wet hair. When I opened the door, he was in the same position, but his eyes were trained on me.

“Better?” He let his gaze travel the length of my body.                                 

“Much. Thanks.” My nipples tingled and hardened, and I crossed my arms over my chest to hide it. “I just need to get some socks.”

I walked past Trent to my bedside table and opened the bottom drawer. He shifted on the bed, and when I turned around, he was sitting closer to me.

My heart raced at his nearness, but I tried to play it off by sitting next to him and pulling on my socks. I could sense how focused he was on me, and the knowledge sent a tingle of electricity over my skin. I finished and pulled the towel from my hair.

“I think I’m ready.” I met his eyes, our arms lightly touching as we sat beside each other.

“Are you?” He leaned in and kissed me.

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Review
4-star

This Book Was A Really Good Read And Was Very Different To Other Sports Romances I Have Read. The Leading Lady Plays Football But That’s Not The Only Focus With This Book.

There Is Alot Going On. The Leading Man Is Rich And Has a Trust Fund And His Family Hate Her. Whilst She Is Poor With An Alcoholic Father. As Well As How Differently She Is Treated On the Field and In The Locker Room.

Let Battle Commenced. Not Only The Field But In The Private Lives Of The  Characters. I Won’t Spoil Any Of The Story As It’s Good TO Read it As It Reveals Itself. I Yet Again Can’t Say Enough Can’t Say Enough How Much I Liked This Book.

 

Reviewed by Donna

 

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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

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New Release: Kicked by Celia Aaron

by Celia Aaron
Genres: Sports Romance

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  Amazon AU

 

goodreads-badge.png

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AP new - synopsis.jpg

Trent Carrington.

Trent Mr. Perfect-Has-Everyone-Fooled Carrington.

He’s the star quarterback, university scholar, and happens to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He shines at any angle, and especially under the Saturday night stadium lights where I watch him from the sidelines. But I know the real him, the one who broke my heart and pretended I didn’t exist for the past two years.

I’m the third-string kicker, the only woman on the team and nothing better than a mascot. Until I’m not. Until I get my chance to earn a full scholarship and join the team as first-string. The only way I’ll make the cut is to accept help from the one man I swore to never trust again. The problem is, with each stolen glance and lingering touch, I begin to realizing that trusting Trent isn’t the problem. It’s that I can’t trust myself when I’m around him.

 

This is a full-length, standalone American football romance novel with hot guys in tight pants who really know how to handle their balls.

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A movie started playing on the back of each seat, but I focused on Cordy. Her polo was unbuttoned, and I could see the swell of her breast. My cock went from fight mode to fuck mode in the time it took me to shift more toward Cordy.

“Are we…” She nibbled her lip.

I grabbed her chin and turned her to face me. “What?”

“Are we like, together?” She stumbled over her next words, as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “I know it’s too early to DTR—”

“DTR?” I grinned.

“Define the relationship.” She furrowed her brow.

“Right. Well, I define it as you’re mine and I’m yours. How’s that?”

Her gaze brightened. My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it.

“Someone’s calling you.” She glanced to my pants.

“It’s my mother.”

“Oh.”

I’d told Cordy about the difficulties I had with my mom, but I didn’t go into the details of how much acrimony our relationship would stir up. Mom had no doubt seen the press conference. She would know. Mom always knew. She was waiting for me to pick up the phone so she could load me down with Carlotta’s tears, my family’s legacy, and the bright future she thought I was throwing away. I’d deal with it. Later.

I leaned close to Cordy’s ear. “Put your jacket on your lap.”

She turned to me, a wary look on her heart-shaped face. “Why?”

“It’s cold.”

“Not really.”

“You’re trembling.”

She arched a brow. “Not because I’m cold.”

“Then why?”

“Because you—” She seemed to rethink her answer and, instead of responding, pulled her jacket into her lap as I’d requested.

“Good. My hands are cold.” I slid my palm along her thigh beneath the jacket.

She jumped and looked at me with a scandalized expression. “Trent!” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“What?” I pressed my fingers higher until I reached the apex of her thighs, then I eased my hand between her legs.

“We can’t do this here.” She glanced around, but no one could see us in the dark, and if anyone was looking, all they’d see was us sitting together and Cordy’s jacket in her lap.

I rubbed my index finger along the seam of her jeans over her clit. “We can.”

She gripped my wrist, but I didn’t stop. Her breathing grew faster as I stroked her. My cock demanded reciprocity, but it would have to wait. I wanted to pleasure her more than anything. When her lips parted, I knew I had her.

I pressed my lips to her ear. “Unbutton your jeans, and unzip them.”

She tilted her hips forward and did as I’d said.

“You’ll have to be quiet.” I ran my fingers along her quivering stomach and she let out a small sound.

  

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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

 

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Blog Tour: Cleat Catcher by Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell

by Celia Aaron, Sloane Howell
Genres: Sports Romance


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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

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What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

 

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

 

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

 

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“This is so not my color.” I spun in the dressing room mirrors, all three reflecting the pink confection of a dress my mother had picked.

Over the years, the Graves had suffered plenty of hardships—when the good caviar was out of season, when that one maid failed to do proper hospital corners when she made the beds, or even that time when Kerfuffles, Mom’s prized Dandie Dinmont Terrier, destroyed my father’s autographed baseball from the ’56 World Series where Don Larsen threw a perfect game. Each time there was a setback, the Graves rallied in the only way we knew how. We shopped.

I wasn’t into it like Mom, but if buying me new clothes got her off my back about Braden—and finally gave me some breathing room—I was all for it. I couldn’t go back to the apartment, not until I knew what my course of action would be. So, a day of shopping didn’t sound so bad while I mulled things over.

“I think you look lovely in it.” My mother walked around, her critical eye examining it from every angle.

“What will I wear it to? My quinceañera?”

“I’m sure you have plenty of weddings to attend next spring. In this, you’ll outshine the bride.” She smiled.

“Yes, Mom, because my goal is always to ruin the bride’s special day by flouncing around in a sherbet-colored dress and flashing my panties at all the boys, including the groom.” I stepped down from the modeling podium and walked into my separate changing area. I didn’t mention that I had, on plenty of occasions, bagged a groomsman or two at my friends’ weddings, often using similar tactics to what I just described.

Mom gave an over-dramatic sigh. “Stop being difficult, and try on the next dress.”

“This one is the newest from the Valentino line.” The snooty shopping assistant reassured my mother that she was, for certain, buying the most expensive shit in all of Saks. “I wish I could have been at the runway show. It was faboosh, beyond transcendentine, positively luxotic.”

“Those aren’t words,” I muttered and fought the zipper on my mother’s next selection. This one wasn’t so bad. It was a sky blue sheath that fell mid-thigh and had an interesting peasant-top ruffle at the bust line.

I walked out and stood on the podium as the assistant—a man wearing more makeup than I owned—flittered about and crowed about the fit.

Mom took a swig of the complimentary champagne. “Cyrano, she looks like a barmaid.”

I smiled at myself in the mirror. “It’s my favorite one so far. Tit-tastic.” If a dress made it look like I had actual breasts that were bigger than a teacup, then I was sold.

“An excellent choice. The bodice is ahead of its time. I have a feeling peasant will be in three years from now.” Cyrano—if that was actually his name—twirled one side of his too-thick mustache and affected a lisp that screamed “flamer.” But he wasn’t fooling me. I’d seen him checking out my tits and ass while I modeled my dresses. He was straight, but likely knew that pretending to like the dick was the surest way to get commissions in a Saks dressing room.

Let’s test this theory. I smirked and headed back into the changing area. After yanking my zipper halfway down, I called, “My zipper is stuck. Cyrano, a little help?”

He pushed through the white curtain and let it fall behind him. His eyes took in my bare back and bra strap.

“I can’t quite get it.” I smiled at him in the mirror.

“Allow me, mademoiselle.” He gripped the zipper and pulled it down easily. “There we are.”

I let the dress fall to the floor and turned to face him. His gaze froze on my tits, then lowered to the lace over my pussy.

I plucked at the edge of my panties, pulling them away from my hip. Then I looked at him through my lashes. “Do you think I’d have to go without panties in that dress. Did you see a line?”

He licked his lips. “I-I think—” His voice had lowered two octaves in the space of ten seconds.

When I saw his boner at war with the front of his skinny pants, I laughed. “So busted. Quit ogling my pussy, and go entertain my mom.”

“What?” He cleared his throat and raised his voice into a nasal pitch again. “Oh, vaginas are so icky. I would never—”

“Tell it to your boner.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave his crotch a pointed stare.

He dropped the act. “Look, I make good money this way, okay? When I played it straight, women never took my style advice. Style is my life, and this is the only way I can be around it and make money at it. Please don’t say anything.”

Guilt filtered through me, and I dropped my arms. “I’m not judging. Well, I’m not now, anyway. I was just messing with you.”

He smiled a little. “What gave me away?”

“Your roving eye.”

“I’ve been trying to work on that, but when I see a beautiful woman.” He gestured at me. “I can’t help it sometimes.”

An idea struck me like a wild pitch. “You get the inside scoop on designer clothes and what the customers come in here looking for all the time, right?”

He ran his thumbs up and down his bright pink suspenders. “Yeah. It’s kind of my job.”

“I’ll tell you what—wait, what’s your name?”

“Cyrano.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, your real name.”

His shoulders drooped. “Cyrus.”

“Okay, Cyrus. You agree to let me interview you for my magazine, and I won’t tell everyone what a true pussy-fiend you are. Sound like a deal?”

“Magazine?” He twirled his mustache.

“I work for Style and Substance.”

His eyes lit up, and he grabbed my upper arms. “Are you shitting me?”

I shook my head. “Not even a little shitting. Not so much as a shart.”

“Yes!” He nearly shouted. Then he ran his hands down my arms. “Sorry about that. It’s just, that’s my favorite fashion mag. It’s so down-to-earth but also classy beyond belief.”

His enthusiasm had my mind whirling in all different directions, but first things first.

“Good.” I plucked one of his business cards from the front pocket of his plaid shirt. “I’ll be in touch, Cyrano.”

 

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Celia Aaron

 

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

Sloane Howell

 

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

 

Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram

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New Release: Cleat Catcher by Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell

by Celia Aaron, Sloane Howell
Genres: Sports Romance

 

Cleat Catcher Release Day.jpg   

 

 

AP new - buy the book.jpg

 

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 

goodreads-badge.png

 

 

Catcher.png

 

 

AP new - synopsis.jpg

 

 

What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

 

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

 

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

 

 Review

5star

Cleat Chaser is the first book that I have read by Sloane Howell and Celia Aaron. I will definitely be reading more from these two authors.
Braden is a catcher for a baseball team. He holds everything in and doesn’t want to burden anyone else with what he’s feeling and going through. This leads to some misunderstandings and heartbreaking moments.
Nikki was born into a family with money. She loves baseball and that’s the only kind of man she wants. As soon as she meets Braden, she knows that he’s the one. There’s some people that she knows that want to interfere in her life, which causes nothing but problems.
Can Braden learn how to share his burden? Will Nikki be strong enough to tell everyone to leave her alone?
Cleat Chaser has love, lies, secrets, loyalty, and different aspects on friendships/relationships. The story will pull you in from page one and make you want to read straight to the end. Throw in some funny moments and you have a great story. It flows well, and you will feel what the characters are going through. I highly recommend this story.

Reviewed by Erin

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I shot back against the cushion, doing my best to act normal. Nik pushed the door open. “Hey, babe. I was waiting for my dessert course.” I made a show of scrubbing my hand across my mouth and face like I was clearing her a space.

“I’m good.” Her tone was flat, and she didn’t even look at me.

What the hell?

Her usual spark was gone. She sauntered over to the side table, and dropped her keys and bag on it.

I glanced down at the laptop screen full of porn. Fuck! I’d been researching some new shit to try out with her, but there was no way she’d believe me. My gaze drifted to the mouse way up under the table. There was no chance I could get to it without giving away my knee situation.

Using my good leg, I tried to gently kick the computer screen closed, and, of course, it only opened wider.

“Have you moved from the couch all night? Did you even shower?” She sighed, still facing the wall like she had no interest in looking at me.

“What’s wrong, babe? What happened?” My mind raced. A lot could have occurred at Estate de CuntMuffin that would set her off. I’d been worried the whole time she was gone.

“I’m fine.” She turned around, and I watched her eyes dart straight to the computer screen. Her brows pinched together and her hands went to her hips.

Fuck me. This won’t be good.

“Nice, Braden. Real fucking nice.”

“It’s not what you think. I don’t look at porn.” I stared in the other direction and mumbled. “Often.”

“Your fingers slip and accidentally type in ‘fuckmedaddy.com?’” She scowled and began to pace back and forth.

I’d expected her to be upset about the porn, but not this much. I was halfway hoping she’d want to look at it with me. “No. I was trying to find new stuff to try out on you. If you must know.”

Her lips curled like she might smile, and then they mashed back into a thin line.

So close.

“Have they said if you’re going to be traded or not?” She took another step toward me, ignoring all of the pussy acrobatics flashing on the laptop.

“No.” I tilted my head to my lap and ground my teeth while I tried to compose myself. I’d been trying to forget about that shit all day, but the pain in my knee kept it front and center in my mind.

She made a pfft sound and threw her arms in the air.

“Babe, I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to have a clue what you’re upset about. I just don’t.”

A million things rocketed through my mind at once and brought my entire thought process to a crashing halt. My brain buffered slower than the inverted cowgirl pussy nomming scene I’d attempted to watch earlier.

Nik scowled, and then folded her arms across her chest. She stared me down like a closer in the ninth inning. “Think really really hard about the problem we have.”

My eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. “Uhh, your parents?” I glanced back and tried to judge her reaction.

She made a loud sound like a buzzer that startled me.

“Fucking hell. I mean, umm, me being traded?” I held my hands up and shrugged.

“Warmer.” She took another step toward me.

I hated this fucking guessing game. Why couldn’t she just say it? Heat rushed into my face, and my body tensed.

“Can you just tell me? Please. Stop fucking around with me.” I smacked my hand against the back of the sofa, and Nik jumped.

“Maybe my parents were right. Maybe you do have anger issues.” She stomped off a few steps and whipped back around. “Easton!

“Take that shit back. You know I don’t. Maybe your goddamn family just brings it out of everyone. Maybe you’re more like your mo—” I froze stiff on the couch, and my eyes bugged out. I held up my hands. “I stopped myself. You heard me. I did not say it.”

It was too late. I thought my head was going to explode the way Nik glowered in my direction. Her hands were squeezed into fists at her sides, and I could see all the whites of her knuckles. She started toward me like a possessed demon. “Did you say what I think you said?”

Do not answer, Braden. That shit is rhetorical. Adapt and survive.

I shook my head quickly and braced myself in case she resorted to physical violence.

 

 

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Celia Aaron

 

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

 

 

Sloane Howell

 

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

 

Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram

 

 

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Cover Reveal: Cleat Catcher by Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell


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Coming June 30th

 

Add to your Goodreads shelf now.

 

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What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

 

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

 

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

 

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Celia Aaron

 

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

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Sloane Howell

 

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

 

Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

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Counsellor by Celia Aaron

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Counsellor by Celia Aaron
(Acquisition #1)
Publication date: September 28th 2015
Genres: Erotica, Romance
Counsellor

Blurb

In the heart of Louisiana, the most powerful people in the South live behind elegant gates, mossy trees, and pleasant masks. Once every ten years, the pretense falls away and a tournament is held to determine who will rule them. The Acquisition is a crucible for the Southern nobility, a love letter written to a time when barbarism was enshrined as law.

Now, Sinclair Vinemont is in the running to claim the prize. There is only one way to win, and he has the key to do it — Stella Rousseau, his Acquisition. To save her father, Stella has agreed to become Sinclair’s slave for one year. Though she is at the mercy of the cold, treacherous Vinemont, Stella will not go willingly into darkness.

As Sinclair and Stella battle against each other and the clock, only one thing is certain: The Acquisition always ends in blood.

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Review

4 stars

This Book Was My First Dark Read And Was A Little Unsure Of It In The Beginning But WOW!!!! I Was Blown Away With The Way This Story Unravelled.

The Chemistry Between The Character Was Amazing And My Heart Bleed For Stella, What Was Being Done To Her Was Completely Awful And She Had No Escape.

The Cliffhanger At The End Of This Book Was A Killer And I Need To Know What Happen..

This Is A Great Unusual Very Dark Read

Reviewed by Donna

About the Author

Celia_

Hi, I’m Celia. Nice to meet you. Can you keep a secret?

I write smut. Gritty, dirty, delicious smut. This is a secret we can share. I’ll do the writing. You do the reading. We have to keep our relationship quiet because I have a highly respectable day job. At night, I become markedly less respectable, as you will see.

Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy my stories. And remember, it’s our secret.

Sign up for my newsletter at aaronerotica.com to get information on new releases. (I would never spam you or sell your info, just send you book news and goodies sometimes). 😉

You can find me on:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AaronErotica
Facebook: facebook.com/aaronerotica
Instagram: celia_aaron

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