Flynn Gifford is enjoying a simple existence in a rural Derbyshire village when Caroline Rogers crashes into his life, barefoot and panicked.
Their lives could hardly be more different—she owns a successful luxury hotel chain, and he’s a penniless nomad who’s off the grid—yet neither can deny the attraction that burns between them. As Caroline reluctantly starts to open up to him, Flynn finds himself divulging some secrets of his own, secrets he thought he’d take to his grave.
But can a billionaire and a wild man ever make a relationship work, or will their secrets keep them apart?
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-billionaire-and-the-wild-man-by-lucy-felthouse-and-victoria-blisse/
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Finally, I check the towel is still securely in place and head downstairs in search of Carrie. I’ve left the foam and razor in the bathroom for now. I can go back and get them when I’m dressed. I don’t really want to carry a sharp item around when I’m wearing nothing but terrycloth. One slip and I could do myself some real damage. The thought makes me wince.
“Carrie?” I say quietly, aware that her mother could have come home early. Or, given she’s a control freak, popped home at random to make sure her daughter isn’t misbehaving. “Carrie?” I repeat, a little louder.
“In here,” comes a voice. Sounds like she’s in the kitchen. I head there, and sure enough, she’s standing at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. It smells good.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at me, “but I thought better of going to the pub. It seems everyone in this godforsaken village knows my business, and if I’m seen with you, the news will get back to my mum before our bums even hit the seats. And, before you get the wrong idea, I don’t mean that I’m embarrassed to be seen with you. I just don’t want anyone knowing my business, who I’m spending time with. I’d feel the same if I was stepping out with Benedict Cumberbatch.”
I haven’t got the faintest idea who this Bendybum Cabbagepatch is, but I’m glad she said that, because I was starting to get the wrong idea. If I wasn’t mostly naked, I’d have considered walking out. Instead, I shrug. “It’s okay, I understand. It can’t be nice to be in your situation and have everyone know about it, whether you want them to or not. Don’t worry about it. Am I gonna be able to get dressed before we eat?”
Pausing her stirring momentarily, she steps away from the cooker and over to the washing machine. “Looks as though this’ll be done in a few minutes—good job you put it on a quick wash—and then I’ll stick ‘em in the tumble drier. So probably not. It’s only soup I’ve got heating, so it won’t take long. You’ll just have to be careful.”
She grins at me, her gaze flicking momentarily down to the area covered by the towel. Which, I realize, isn’t as much as I’d hoped. On a smaller guy, the white material would reach down to the knee area. On me, it’s way farther up my thigh than is decent. If Carrie’s mother walks in now, I’m going to give her a heart attack.
“I’ll be careful,” I say tightly, resisting the temptation to tug at the towel. I’ll only end up pulling the damn thing off altogether, and that will definitely not give the right impression.
“Okay,” she says brightly, moving back to her task. “Could you get the bowls and spoons, please? I’ve already put mats out on the table.”
On instinct, I look at the table, then back at Carrie. All I see is the back of her, her glossy hair, a little messy from her tough day, waist nipping in just right and flaring back out to perfectly proportioned hips and luscious bottom…
“Yep!” I say, too hastily, moving over and pressing myself against the cupboards to her right before I get a suspicious tent in the material covering my crotch. Damn it, so much for not doing anything sexual. The woman’s given me two hard-ons in half an hour. “Where are they?”
Fortunately, she doesn’t glance up from what she’s doing, merely points. “Spoons in there. And bowls up there.”
“No problem.” I set about the task quickly, then sit down at the table and continue watching her, my groin area now happily hidden beneath the table. “It smells great.”
“Thanks, but I can’t take credit. It’s just chicken soup, out of a tin. We don’t even have any bread to go with it, I’m afraid. If I’d known, I’d have gotten some from the shop.”
“Hey, don’t worry. I’m very grateful for what you’re doing, really I am. All I had to look forward to was a freeze-dried meal. So hot soup’s very civilized. Practically gourmet.”
“Freeze-dried?” She turns to me, saucepan in hand. “You mean one of those plastic bags you pour hot water into?” Her expression makes it perfectly clear what she thinks about that.
“Yes,” I reply, smiling gratefully as she pours the soup into my bowl. “Thank you. They’re not that bad, though. I’ve had worse.”
“Really?” She’s filled her own bowl now, put the saucepan in the sink and taken her place at the table. “Where at? McDonald’s?” Grinning, she picks up her spoon. We continue our conversation in between blowing on and eating the delicious soup.
“Even worse than McDonald’s.”
“Trust me, it is.”
“Then tell me about it.”
Bugger. I should have known this line of chatter would bring her to that question. If our roles had been reversed, I would have been curious, too. “Another time, maybe.”
“Seriously? You know about how I ended up stuck here, and how the whole village knows my sorry state of affairs. I think you owe me at least a snippet of your life story.”
I stifle a sigh, take my time scooping up more of the broth and supping it. “Okay, okay. You’re right. But you might not like it.”
Keeping Secrets by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)
I can’t divulge too much here without giving lots away about Carrie and Flynn and their respective pasts, but let’s just say they both have secrets. Yes, I know it’s ironic that I’m keeping secrets about their secrets, but you don’t want me to give you spoilers, do you?
Anyway. After their unexpected meeting, the pair strike up a surprising friendship, and—this isn’t a spoiler, really, ‘cos, you know, it’s an erotic romance, so the romance is kind of implied—find themselves attracted to each other. But as I mentioned in an earlier post on this tour, they really do rub each other up the wrong way. And they both find it difficult to trust. Aaaaand they’re both ashamed of their respective secrets. So it’s hardly a surprise that they’re not in a sharing mood, is it? Nope—they clamp down tight and keep their pasts to themselves. Which is fine, I guess, given they’ve only just met. I don’t make a habit of divulging stuff to people I don’t know very well.
But what happens when their secrets and their pasts start to seriously affect their present and their future? And their present and future together? Do they even have a future together? I guess it depends if they can overcome their hurdles. Which, yes, you’ve guessed it, are the secrets. So what are their bloody secrets already?
You’ll just have to read the book and find out, won’t you? ;)
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Author and all round Cheeky Wench. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco, Smut by the Sea (Vol.1), Smut by the Sea (Vol.2), Smut by the Sea (Vol.3), and Smut in the City Anthologies.
She is the mistress of Smut UK putting on Smut Events, Days & Evenings dedicated to erotica, socializing, fun and prizes. Check out Smut Nights, Smut by the Sea: Scarborough, and Smut Manchester for more info.
Born near Manchester, England, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure.
Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.
Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/lucy-felthouse-victoria-blisse/
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