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From a love spell that doesn’t quite go to plan to a farmhand who needs a little discipline; from a woman who is addicted to the confessional to a personal trainer with a very unorthodox method of guaranteeing his clients they’ll look fab come bikini season, K D Grace will tell you a naughty story with a twist. Before there was Ms Holly and the Pet Shop, before there were sexy ghosts, before Grace Marshall upped the romance ante, K D Grace was into quickies, and here’s a selection of her naughtiest.
Pretty city boy, Tim Harris, is the last man Suzie Sheridan would have hired to help her on the farm had he not been the only one who applied for the job. But with strict discipline generously applied in all the right places, even Suzie is amazed at just how good a hired hand Tim turns out to be …
Penny Davis can’t afford to hire a personal trainer to get her fit for bikini season until ex-military hard man, Hawk Sturgis, offers her an unorthodox fitness regimen and an even more unorthodox payment plan, guaranteed to have her heating up the beach in her new bikini just in time for the summer hols.
On a road trip across America, Liz Martin’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, and the ride a Good Samaritan lorry driver offers her is not exactly the one she expected.
Under the careful supervision of his unorthodox management consultant, a stressed company CEO learns a hands-on technique guaranteed to up productivity.
Love spells are the most dangerous kind of magic. Mick Denver learns the hard way when he enlists Sally Haddon, a witch who specialises in sex magic, to help him win the affections of his new co-worker, the exquisite and dangerous Darlene.
Sadie’s sexual appetite is out of control, and a spell at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility is intended to put it right. It isn’t long before fellow inmate Carol is showing her how to bend the facility’s strict rules, earning them both punishments that are more than worth the crime.
Confession is good for the soul, but Hail Marys and Our Fathers aren’t nearly enough to gain absolution when Jilly confesses to an unsuspecting priest that confession makes her come.
While volunteering on an archaeological dig, Gina and Mike discover new and exciting ways to help their workaholic professor relieve stress – and he introduces them to one or two methods of his own, which are far from academic.
We all give off body heat, but only Jenny can see the red glow it gives off, darker and more intense the more turned on we become. When she’s compelled to follow a fellow bus passenger whose scarlet desires are too powerful to ignore, she learns the real secret of her unique vision.
An unusually powerful sense of smell gives Chloe the ability to sniff out the scents of people in lust. When she volunteers for a research trial into pheromones, she doesn’t realise the scientist in charge will have the perfect, sexy aroma she’s always craved in a lover.
About the Author:
K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.
K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, , . Her paranormal erotic novel, , the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on . Books two and three, and , are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as . , , books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.
Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.
It irritated Suzie the way Tim Harris worked without a shirt, like he didn’t know how distracting that was. She watched him muck out the barn, grunting slightly with each thrust of the pitch fork, breathing heavily from the effort. If she closed her eyes she could easily imagine him doing something else. To her.
She dragged her gaze away from the hard play of muscles, muscles that, no doubt, came from some cushy air conditioned gym, which is probably where he got his tan.
Working bare-chested might cool him down a bit, but it only made her hotter. She had nearly forgotten the clit-stiffening scent of sweaty maleness, earthy and slightly piquant, a scent that, amid the barnyard animal smells, caused her own animal nature to squirm and stretch and sniff.
He was too damn good looking to be a real hired hand. From Chicago, he said, by way of London – in England! He arrived complete with an accent that never failed to make her tits tight. Rural Missouri was a long way from London. What would a pretty city boy know about farming? He would have been the last man she would have hired had he not been the only one who applied for the job.
‘Let me see your hands,’ she commanded.
He jumped and nearly dropped the pitch fork. ‘I didn’t hear you come in, Suzie.’
She tried to keep her eyes on his and not the muscles of his belly, tensing and relaxing into his low-slung jeans that always seemed to be hiding something just barely contained, something she hadn’t stopped thinking about since he arrived at Sheridan Farm.
He removed his gloves and held his hands out, palms up for her inspection, offering her a warm smile. ‘Blisters are healed. I’m starting to get callouses.’
‘About damn time. I’m not paying you to be an invalid.’ She couldn’t help herself; she gave his palms an open-handed stroke, thinking how good those callouses would feel against more sensitive parts of her body.
As she did so, he dropped a glove. She stooped to pick it up, closer to his groin than she intended, close enough to notice his package was straining his Levis this morning. The tangy, male rutting smell made her mouth water. Suddenly the sweat between her breasts wasn’t the only moisture she was feeling. She fought back the urge to jerk open his fly and bury her face against his bulge, reminding herself she hadn’t earned the respect of the other farmers without discipline and self-control.
After her father’s death, she kept the family farm working against all odds, and she wasn’t going to let some city boy’s bulging jeans slow her down. She stood quickly and handed back his glove.
‘I’m going into town to get the seed corn. You can drive a tractor, right?’
‘I can drive anything you need me to drive,’ he replied.
She assumed that meant he didn’t know a standard transmission from a pogo stick. But when the time came Tim was as good as his word. Ike Melbourne had offered her the use of his tractor for the day, since his son was getting married. While Tim ploughed the field behind the barn she used Ike’s tractor to plant the south 40. It was supposed to rain on Wednesday. With the extra tractor hopefully they’d be done before the weather hit.
She planned to plant into the night, breaking long enough to tend livestock before dark. She hurried about feeding the chickens and the pigs, hearing the steady purr of Tim’s tractor in the field behind the barn. She was checking the water tank in the pig pen when she noticed the silence.
Wiping her hands on her jeans, she walked around the side of the barn. Beyond the stand of oak and elm just on the other side of the fence the tractor stood empty and silent.
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love the blurbs and excerpt. Anytime the author wants this book reviewed, I'm in!