Today we’re thrilled to welcome Cass Peterson, on tour for her latest release, One Night in San Francisco! Click on the tour banner to travel to her other stops.

Hi – I’m Cass Peterson, and One Night in San Francisco is my first novella for Tirgearr. It’s set in one of my all time favourite cities and it tells the story of two people who are in no mood for a relationship but are more than ready for fun. Here’s a brief description of Liam Morrisey, the man who sweeps Nicky off her feet.

Here, Nicky describes Liam, the first time they meet on the night flight to San Francisco:

He smiled at me and my stomach flipped. He was so desperately good looking, this man – deep brown eyes, thin, angular features with that lust-inducing hint of stubble. His lips were full and firm, and his hair flopped over his face, asking to be stroked back into place. I swallowed hard.

Liam was born in Ireland and still has a trace of a very sexy accent. He’s lived in London for the past few years and is now a hot shot literary agent specialising in crime fiction.

His visit to San Fran is one of many recent business trips to liaise with the top publishing company of Taylor, James and Hanson, where he met his previous girlfriend, Virginia. This came to nothing, and Liam is still heart free though, falling for Nicky in a big way when he realises she is pleasuring herself under her blanket in the seat next to his. One of nature’s gentlemen and an accomplished lover, he offers to help out with the job in hand, and they plunge into an intense mile-high experience that leaves them both wanting much more.

When they lose track of each other during their few short hours in the city, both are desperate to reconnect. Can they find each other in time to see if the taster on the plane can be the start of something even more exciting?

Blurb:

Nicky and Liam have only twenty four short hours to find out if their instantaneous attraction can develop into something more than an electric mile-high fumble. San Francisco has everything they need to put their previous disastrous relationships behind them but when they lose touch with each other almost immediately, fate seems to have other ideas. As the precious hours tick away, Liam moves heaven and earth to find the woman of his (filthiest) dreams before she leaves the city. Will he get to her in time?

Buy links:

http://casspeterson.co.uk/books/city-nights-one-night-in-san-francisco/

Extract:

San Francisco airport was a blur of activity even in the early morning. As we piled off the plane, already jet lagged and dishevelled, we were herded into lines reminiscent of the ones at Alton Towers – zig zags of queues separated by tapes and metal posts, shuffling tiredly towards the perspex booths of hard-faced officials, ready to check our passports.

By this time I was almost comatose – lack of sleep and too much four-o’clock lust had left me bleary and bewildered by the bustle around me. I tried to keep near to Liam but when we reached passport control we somehow lost each other. I saw him in the distance, trying to charm his way past an official who obviously ate razor blades for a hobby, but we didn’t meet again. I waved to him as I was whisked away to have my bag checked – I must have a dodgy face, this always seems to happen to me at customs – and he waved back, mouthing ‘See you later.’

My heart sank. I’d hoped to have chance to talk to him before we went our separate ways, or at least to give him a hug. Never mind, I had his card safely in my bag. I checked again. Yes, still there, tucked into my purse next to the photo of Simon. I shook myself. Why was I still carrying around a picture of a man who had clearly moved out of my life?

I slid the tiny picture out of my purse and looked at it closely. Simon grinned up at me from his photograph – handsome, cheerful … and a complete and utter tosser. There were no litter bins to be seen but I noticed a man sweeping rubbish nearby. After a moment’s hesitation I ripped up the photo and dropped the pieces into his bin liner. He looked at me as if I’d spat on the floor but I didn’t care. A wave of freedom washed over me – who needed men that treated you like dirt? I’d ring Liam as soon as I thought he’d be clear of his work ties.

I frowned as I shuffled forwards in the queue. For the first time I realised I hadn’t offered Liam my own number. It would have made a whole lot more sense for him to phone me when he was through. Oh well, it was too late now. I’d give him till half past ten – that should do it.

Author Bio:

Cass Peterson is passionate about many things; her family, writing, chocolate, wine, cake, curry, gin, sunlit beaches, moonlit bedrooms and good novels to name but a few. At the moment she spends a good chunk of her time working on the day job, but she tries to fit the other passions in as often as possible.

She is a cat lover, an all-weather walker, a reader and reviewer of contemporary romance and an enthusiastic cook.

Cass likes to laugh, especially at Bill Bailey, Victoria Wood, Michael Palin and Eddie Izzard. She would happily live next door to any of these comedians.

http://casspeterson.co.uk

https://www.facebook.com/cass.peterson.4/

http://www.twitter.com/casspeterson1

Giveaway:

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Today we’re thrilled to welcome Brit author Charlotte Howard, on tour for The Black Door.

Thanks for hosting! One of the most common questions I get asked is “Where do you find your inspiration?” and I’d like to answer that, more in depth than I often get the time for.

Inspiration can be found from a variety of places. Before my first book, Seven Dirty Words, I hadn’t thought about writing a romance novel. I loved (and still do) reading murder mysteries and crime novels. I’d read most of Agatha Christie’s novels thanks to my mum’s massive collection, and I own most of Tami Hoag’s books. Then somebody suggested I read this taboo-breaking trilogy about a man called Christian Grey – oh you’ve heard of it? I was dubious. I’ve never been one to follow trends – I’ve seen the Harry Potter films, but I haven’t read the books, and I haven’t read or seen the Twilight series. Okay, so I’ve watched the first one, but I didn’t get into it enough to be bothered with the second. It’s just not my thing!

Even when I was a teenager I wasn’t a follower. Take That, East 17, Backstreet Boys – no thanks. (Is that showing my age??) So when it came to the FSOG trilogy, I was a bit, well… Meh. Then I picked it up and read all three books in the space of a week. Honestly, I wouldn’t read them again, and although I’m intrigued by the film, I won’t be going to line up with the hoards to see it in the cinema. They weren’t awful – I’ve read a hell of a lot worse, and like I said, I was addicted enough to read one book after the other in seven days.

I told my friends about them, and they asked if I’d tried writing an erotic romance novel. Now I’ll be honest – I hadn’t heard of the genre before. I knew there was romance, and knew that some of them were hotter than the rest, but apart from Jilly Cooper, I hadn’t really, ever, picked up a romance novel before.

My previous attempts at writing, even though based in the crime genre, all had sex in them. Not as explicit as erotica, but sex all the same, so my friends simply suggested I wrote a novel and removed the crime element and I did. 20-ish days later, I had the first draft of Seven Dirty Words.

What surprised me was how easy it was to write – the first draft anyway. It took me 3 months to edit it, and being my own worst critic, I’ll never be completely happy with what I’ve written. But it flowed out like nothing before.

Once I’d got a contract for it, I knew I had to write a sequel, and did. But it wasn’t due to be released for a few months. By then I had the bug for writing contemporary / erotic romance. I started writing another novel, but it didn’t materialise into anything in particular.

Then a reader contacted me and said how they would like to read about a heroine who wasn’t rich, beautiful and young. Where was I going to get inspiration for that? I looked in the mirror. I’m 29 plus several years experience, have 2 children, everything is heading south, and I have more stretch marks and scars than I can count. I work, I slave, and I’m left feeling unappreciated. How much more inspiration did I need? Imogen Pearce was created. But I knew from the start that she was going to be a single mum, and that is something that I’m not.

Here’s where I lose some friends – sorry guys, but every single mum in the playground was inspiration when it comes to the hardships of parenting. Whether they are single parents or not, I listened to what the other mums in the playground were saying, I read Facebook statuses and Tweets. I listened to their worries, their concerns, their wishes and dreams, and it all mushed together in my brain and helped to develop Imogen’s life.

Inspiration is all around us. Playgrounds, supermarkets, coffee shops… Although I would suggest that if you’re going to use the playground as somewhere to gain inspiration that you actually have a child. It might look a bit weird if you’re just standing in a playground for no reason.

Even conversations with friends sparks my imagination. In fact after they’d read Seven Dirty Words and Four Letter Words, my two life-long friends could pick out every single night out that had been used and abused.

Excerpt:

Men. All the bloody same.
My mind traced back to the day I had given up on one-sided monogamous relationships.
The children were at school or work, and the sun was beating down. It was a glorious day, and I had decided to go home for lunch, rather than spend it in a stuffy office.
I pulled up outside the house and a fleeting thought passed through my mind when I saw Connor’s car sitting in the driveway. My husband of eighteen years had had the same idea.
I crept into the house, hoping to surprise him. But, it turned out that his idea had involved a slutty bottle-blonde.
I wanted to blame the events that followed on a red mist descending over me. The truth is that in the time it took for my mind to register that some tart was riding my husband in what I later found out was known as reverse cowgirl, my mind had calculated the necessary response.
The skank lost a good handful of bleached hair, roots and all. I allowed her to gather her clothes and watched as she tugged her pants on whilst running out of the house. If nothing else, the neighbours got a good show.
Connor yelled at me. But his words were drowned out by the blood pumping in my ears. I marched back up the stairs and into his little study. Opening the window, I saw Miss Slut stood in the middle of the road, screeching obscenities at me. I looked at the Ferrari in our driveway and smiled.
I think his Xbox enjoyed its first and final flying lesson as it sailed out of the window. The fact that it landed in the bonnet of his prized mid-life crisis proved that Karma does exist.
Connor. Holly.
I made a mental note of the two names at the top of my imaginary hit list.
I blinked and I was back in the boardroom.

BLURB

Imogen Pearce is a single mum of four children and fast approaching 40, she works at Ryedale Incorporated where she has to battle a younger and smarter generation to get to where she wants to go. If that means taking on the account of Cherry and Sean Rubin’s adult shop, then she will. But what happens when Imogen discovers the private club that they run at the back? And what happens when she realizes she knows quite a few members?

Buy Links:

Publisher

Smashwords

Amazon

Amazon UK

Author bio and links

British author Charlotte Howard was born in Oman and spent much of the first part of her life flitting between Oman, Scotland, and England. Now settled in Somerset, Charlotte lives with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets.

Her career as a writer began at an early age, with a poem being featured in an anthology for the East Midlands. Since then Charlotte has written many short stories and poems, and finally wrote her first full-length piece of fiction in 2010.

During what little spare time she has, Charlotte enjoys reading and writing (of course), spending time with her family, and watching action movies whilst eating curry and drinking tea.

Charlotte is an active member of Yeovil Creative Writers.

www.charlottehowardauthor.co.uk

http://choward2614.wordpress.com

http://facebook.com/charlottehowardauthor

http://twitter.com/Shy_Tiger

The Black Door by Charlotte Howard

Blurb:

Imogen Pearce is a single mum of four children and fast approaching 40, she works at Ryedale Incorporated where she has to battle a younger and smarter generation to get to where she wants to go. If that means taking on the account of Cherry and Sean Rubin’s adult shop, then she will. But what happens when Imogen discovers the private club that they run at the back? And what happens when she realizes she knows quite a few members?

Buy Links:

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/the-black-door.htm

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/456730?ref=cw1985

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00LP0EN70/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00LP0EN70&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelt-20&linkId=RTNP4B6BUAUSFE2F

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00LP0EN70/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00LP0EN70&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21

Excerpt:

Men. All the bloody same.
My mind traced back to the day I had given up on one-sided monogamous relationships.
The children were at school or work, and the sun was beating down. It was a glorious day, and I had decided to go home for lunch, rather than spend it in a stuffy office.
I pulled up outside the house and a fleeting thought passed through my mind when I saw Connor’s car sitting in the driveway. My husband of eighteen years had had the same idea.
I crept into the house, hoping to surprise him. But, it turned out that his idea had involved a slutty bottle-blonde.
I wanted to blame the events that followed on a red mist descending over me. The truth is that in the time it took for my mind to register that some tart was riding my husband in what I later found out was known as reverse cowgirl, my mind had calculated the necessary response.
The skank lost a good handful of bleached hair, roots and all. I allowed her to gather her clothes and watched as she tugged her pants on whilst running out of the house. If nothing else, the neighbours got a good show.
Connor yelled at me. But his words were drowned out by the blood pumping in my ears. I marched back up the stairs and into his little study. Opening the window, I saw Miss Slut stood in the middle of the road, screeching obscenities at me. I looked at the Ferrari in our driveway and smiled.
I think his Xbox enjoyed its first and final flying lesson as it sailed out of the window. The fact that it landed in the bonnet of his prized mid-life crisis proved that Karma does exist.
Connor. Holly.
I made a mental note of the two names at the top of my imaginary hit list.
I blinked and I was back in the boardroom.

Author Bio & Links:

British author Charlotte Howard, was born in Oman and spent much of the first part of her life flitting between Oman, Scotland, and England. Now settled in Somerset, Charlotte lives with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets.

Her career as a writer began at an early age, with a poem being featured in an anthology for the East Midlands. Since then Charlotte has written many short stories and poems, and finally wrote her first full-length piece of fiction in 2010.

During what little spare time she has, Charlotte enjoys reading and writing (of course), spending time with her family, and watching action movies whilst eating curry and drinking tea.

Charlotte is an active member of Yeovil Creative Writers.

http://www.charlottehowardauthor.co.uk

http://choward2614.wordpress.com

http://facebook.com/charlottehowardauthor

http://twitter.com/Shy_Tiger

Out now in Australia, in print and digital: THE BURLINGTON MANOR AFFAIR, the latest erotic romance by Saskia Walker

A legendary family estate.
A mutual longing.
A bargain struck.

Carmen Shelby wants what’s been left to her—the valuable estate that she once called home. Rex Carruthers is the heir to Burlington Manor, a ruthless playboy who enjoys playing games, and all he wants is for Carmen to surrender. There can be only one winner…

Here’s what the publisher has to say: “Taboo, scandal, and longstanding desire finally realized. It’s been a long, cold winter. Couldn’t you use a little heat? Fans of J. Kenner’s RELEASE ME will love Saskia Walker’s THE BURLINGTON MANOR AFFAIR, which kicks things up a notch and then tantalizingly keeps pressure on the dial. Impassioned heiress meets ruthless playboy in the ultimate bargain for power—and the coveted family estate isn’t the only thing up for grabs. The steam will be rising off your e-reader.”

Australian buy links:

Direct from Harlequin:

http://www.harlequinbooks.com.au/product/9781743568538

Amazon Australia:

http://www.amazon.com.au/Burlington-Manor-Affair-Saskia-Walker-ebook/dp/B00K0Y0VZU/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1401799043&sr=8-3&keywords=saskia+walker

Booktopia:

http://www.booktopia.com.au/the-burlington-manor-affair-saskia-walker/prod9781743568538.html?clickid=Tz4VR7Ww4yHJw5WTr009hXTiUkQxSX11GVSGQU0&bk_source_id=32024&bk_source=DGM

EXCERPT

“The trouble with this arrangement,” Rex commented as he walked across the room, “is that I’m enjoying it rather too much.” He watched her reaction.

Carmen stopped dead, standing on the patterned rug in the middle of the room. “What are you saying?”

Rex sat down in a winged armchair. “For a month you do everything I want, every weekend, absolutely anything and everything.” He paused, allowing his message to sink in. “And in return for that you get my half of the property.”

“I told you I’d pay.”

Those eyes of hers, such defiance. How delicious it was to see her fire.

“That won’t be necessary. You will have earned every tiny part of the property by the time I hand it over. Don’t worry about the money.”

She knotted her fingers together. “You’re trying to embarrass me. That wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I don’t agree. Mostly because I don’t seem to have to try very hard before you get embarrassed. I think you’re embarrassment trigger and your arousal trigger are very close together.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I can’t help that, and neither can you.”

She pressed her lips together. She was clearly annoyed, and yet he could also see that she was acutely aroused. The hands-on treatment he’d given her out in the grounds had her poised for action. She was taut and watchful, barely waiting to be instructed.

Rex took a deep breath and savored the heady atmosphere of sexual anticipation.

When she noticed, she hissed as if in objection.

Rex lifted an eyebrow. She lowered her eyelids, but watched him from beneath her lashes. Rex laughed. Had Carmen Shelby always had these withheld submissive desires? It hadn’t been obvious before, of that he was certain. And the constant battle she was having with her needs—was that part of the package? Or was this dilemma of hers because she’d revealed her trigger to him, perhaps inadvertently? Whatever the reason, neither of them could put it back in the box now. No way. Now that he knew her little kinks and foibles he intended to play them out to their full extent.

“So what is the problem?” she demanded after he left her standing there in silence while he admired her.

“A month might not be enough.”

She glared at him.

“It’s day two and I’m loving every moment,” he continued. “Seems such a shame to put an end date on it.”

“You’re winding me up.”

“I’m being honest.” He was. This was too good.

“In which case you lied to me. If you don’t intend to stand up to your end of the deal, I’m walking out of here right now, and if I have to do that I promise you I will only deal with you through a solicitor!”

Angry Carmen was hellishly hot.

“Is this the ballsy businesswoman speaking now, or are you saying you can’t handle more than a month of this?”

Her eyes blazed.

“Seriously, aren’t you enjoying our time together?”

“You know I am, in some weird fucked-up way.” She folded her arms across her chest. “But I want a limit on it, for the sake of my sanity.”

Sanity? What did that really mean? He’d find out, all in good time. He knew he’d pushed her on the terms. “Fair enough. I suppose I’ll have to stick to my word.”

“It’s only sex,” she blurted, as if it was an afterthought.

“It is…and I must say I’m liking these kinky sex games of yours.”

“Mine?”

“Yes. Yours. Okay, let’s begin.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’d like you to prove to me how much you want the house and how hard you’d work to get it.”

“Now you really are trying to humiliate me.”

“Not at all. You said it made it easier for you when I took charge. Although I do think there’s a part of you that likes that…the humiliation.”

Oh, how her cheeks flamed.

Rex smiled. “Strip for me.”

AUTHOR BIO

Saskia Walker (saskiawalker.co.uk) is a British author whose short fiction appears in over one hundred anthologies. Her erotic novels include Rampant, The Harlot, The Libertine and The Jezebel. Saskia lives in Yorkshire, England with her real-life hero, Mark, and a house full of stray felines.

http://www.saskiawalker.co.uk
https://twitter.com/saskiawalker
http://www.saskiawalker.blogspot.co.uk/
https://www.facebook.com/saskia.walker.965
https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/saskiawalker_news/info
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/104558.Saskia_Walker

BLURB

THE ATTACK OF THE WOODWOSE:

LEGENDS OF MAGH MEALL, Book One

Two enemies must stand together to face a common foe!

Upon returning home with his human fiancé Berta, Reghan the Leprechaun learns that his brother is hiding the sister of Sloan, the Clurichaun who, along with his men, recently attacked Reghan. Reghan goes to tell Sloan that his sister is safe before the Clurichauns determine she’s been kidnapped.

At Sloan’s manor, the men are informed of an impending attack against both the Clurichauns and the Leprechauns by a vicious tribe known as the Woodwose. The only way they can win a battle against the woodwose is to stand together. Now they must convince their clans of that!

BUY LINKS

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/the-attack-of-the-woodwose

Our direct sales: https://ganxy.com/i/94059

All Romance Ebooks:

EXCERPT

Berta was nervous. She stood on the porch and stared out at the pitch dark night. Living in the farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with her Leprechaun lover had been pure bliss for the past three months.

The Clurichauns, who’d beaten Reghan and had abandoned their pursuit only when Berta’s dog and a team of coyotes had driven them away, had left Berta and Reghan in peace once their leader had realized Berta was carrying Reghan’s child. Every day the couple had grown more in love, and every day she’d learned something new and wonderful about her lover. But now Reghan’s father had sent word that a delegation was on its way to get them and bring them home.

The screen door creaked and then clicked shut as Reghan stepped onto the porch behind Berta. He slid his strong arms around her slightly bulging middle. He brushed aside her long blonde hair and kissed her neck. “My parents aren’t ogres, you know.” His voice was a low rumble vibrating against her skin.

“Are there such things as ogres?” “There are…but there aren’t many in these parts…not anymore,” he said.

“But there were?” Berta still couldn’t quite make herself believe that Reghan’s being a Leprechaun wasn’t just some elaborate hoax. When he spoke of other “mythical” beings so offhandedly, she didn’t know what to think.

Reghan didn’t look like she’d have imagined a Leprechaun to look. He wasn’t a tiny little man with a green top hat, buckles on his shoes, and a pot of gold in his hand. In fact, he was a rather large man with dark red hair, bright blue eyes, and a neatly-trimmed beard. His handsome face and chiseled body might’ve made some women think he was a demi-god, but Berta doubted anyone’s—at least, any human woman’s—first thought upon seeing Reghan would be, “Hey, look! A Leprechaun!”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Reghan murmured against her neck. “You have nothing to fear from my parents.”

“What if they don’t like me?” she asked, for what had to be the hundredth time.

“They’ll love you.” He turned her to face him. “Now come back to bed and make love to me again before the delegation arrives.”

“A delegation,” Berta said. “The very fact that they’re sending a delegation to get us terrifies me.”

Reghan tilted her chin up. “You worry too much.”

AUTHOR BIO/LINKS

Selena Cooper lives in the Southern United States. She’d love to hear from you! Send her an email at [email protected] and/or follow her tweets and posts on Facebook. She’d love for you to consider becoming a part of her street team, Les Chats Noire. To learn more about it, visit her website!

Author Website link: http://www.selenacooper.com

Author Social Media Site links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SelenaCooperBks

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SelenaCooperAuthor

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/cooper2478/