RELEASE BLITZ- The Big O by Nelle L’Amour

 

 

Title: The Big O
Author: Nelle L’Amour
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
 Release Date: August 4, 2016

 

Blurb

 

From New York Times Bestselling author Nelle L’Amour, a new sizzling STANDALONE that’s guaranteed to make your panties melt! 

The first time Owen King sets eyes on her, she’s in a focus group, biting into a cream-filled donut and having the most orgasmic reaction he’s ever seen. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cries out. He’s instantly obsessed. 

Aspiring actress, Olive Cumming, has just lost her waitressing job and can’t pay her rent. But when the CEO of Donut King steps out from behind the one-way mirror and hires the curvy respondent to be his assistant, things are about to change. Big time. 

Love at first sight has never been a reality for jaded, overworked Owen. And for sweet overweight Olive, love has never been within her reach. But when fate steps in, the king finds his unexpected princess, not knowing that someone is waiting in the shadows to keep them apart. 

WARNING: Be prepared for over-the-top insta-love, a bit of kinky fun, and some yummy food play. This sugar-coated full-length novel is just waiting for you to take a bite.

 

 

Purchase Links

 

AMAZON US / UK

 

Excerpt

Holy shit. She tasted delicious. So sugary sweet, partly thanks to the lingering flavor of the cream-filled donut she’d eaten in the focus group. Too immersed in my work, it had been a long time since I’d kissed a girl and gotten off on it. I’d never kissed anyone like her. And I’d kissed many.


While my mouth consumed hers, intermittently gnawing and sucking, once parted, our tongues tangoed like we’d danced this dance forever. She followed my lead perfectly, her tongue swirling and twirling, as adorable little sexy sounds escaped from her throat. She was totally turning me on. As her hands tugged at my hair, an erection of mega proportions was raging beneath my trousers. I hardly knew her, but I had to have her. Minutes later, her crying died down.
“Good girl, Olive,” I whispered, breaking the all-consuming kiss.

“More,” she breathed out.

Christ. She was insatiable. And I was falling in love with every bit of her.

“Shh.” I smacked another hot kiss on her soft lips and then asked, “Why were you crying so hard?”

Her eyes began to water again. God, she was an emotional one, but I loved that about her. Everything about her was extreme. In many ways, she mirrored me.

“You don’t need to know.”

“Yes. I. Do.”

Another tear blinked out of one eye. Oh, no. Here we go again. I couldn’t handle it.

“Olive…” I stretched out her name, making the two syllables sound like “Aaah…love.” She was quickly becoming my love. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

She gulped down a breath. “My landlord terminated my lease. I’m being kicked out of my apartment today.” Her full lips quivered. “I have no job. No money. And no place to live.”

“What about friends or family?”

She simply shook her head as tears began to pour down her cheeks. It was fucking gutting me. Big time. And then—PING!—an idea sprung to my mind.

“What can I do to help?” Besides marrying you and making you mine forever.And that could easily and happily be option number one.

“I don’t know.” Her misty eyes gazed up at mine. “Maybe just give me the hundred dollar focus group fee. At least, that’ll get me a night in a cheap hotel until I figure out my life.”

God. She was so cute. So humble and modest. She wanted so little from me. I’d never met a woman like this in my thirty-five years. Well, except my beloved late mother, may she rest in peace. With this fond memory, I responded.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“I understand.” Her lips trembled with despair.

She was no longer gutting me. She was killing me. Her sad chocolate brown eyes were melting me as if I was the Wicked Dick of the West. No more playing games. Looking straight into her soulful eyes, I, the straight shooter (in more ways than one), told her exactly what was on my mind.

“Listen, Olive.” All the air left my lungs as I uttered her breathy name. “I have an opening.”

Her plump, pink lips parted like a rose in bloom. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I have a job opening. My assistant quit the other day and I’m in desperate need of another.” I refrained from telling her that my last assistant (unlucky number thirteen) had a nervous breakdown because she couldn’t get into my pants or keep up with my demanding workload. All she wanted was a full load of my seed.

Olive’s long-lashed eyes fluttered. “You’re offering me a job?”

“Yes. Under one condition. I need to find out if you’re a good fit.”

 

Author Bio

 

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanitas Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

 
Author Links

CHAPTER REVEAL- The Big O by Nelle L’Amour

 

 

Title: The Big O
Author: Nelle L’Amour
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
 Release Date: August 4, 2016

 

Blurb

 

From New York Times Bestselling author Nelle L’Amour, a new sizzling STANDALONE that’s guaranteed to make your panties melt! 

The first time Owen King sets eyes on her, she’s in a focus group, biting into a cream-filled donut and having the most orgasmic reaction he’s ever seen. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cries out. He’s instantly obsessed. 

Aspiring actress, Olive Cumming, has just lost her waitressing job and can’t pay her rent. But when the CEO of Donut King steps out from behind the one-way mirror and hires the curvy respondent to be his assistant, things are about to change. Big time. 

Love at first sight has never been a reality for jaded, overworked Owen. And for sweet overweight Olive, love has never been within her reach. But when fate steps in, the king finds his unexpected princess, not knowing that someone is waiting in the shadows to keep them apart. 

WARNING: Be prepared for over-the-top insta-love, a bit of kinky fun, and some yummy food play. This sugar-coated full-length novel is just waiting for you to take a bite.

 

 

Chapter 1
The Big O
©Nelle L’Amour 2016
All rights reserved

COMING TO ALL RETAILERS ON AUGUST 4, 2016!

 

CHAPTER 1

 


Owen

I studied the spreadsheet on my desk. The numbers for last quarter’s earnings. They sucked. We were operating in the red and facing bankruptcy. If my dick was the line of my P&L chart, it would look like it fell off a cliff. That’s how bad they were. For decades, Donut King had been the number one breakfast stop in the country, but year after year our market share had declined. Numerous locations had shut down. What the hell was wrong with our yummy donuts and coffee? Trust me, they were delicious. Customers loved them. But with little advertising, companies like Starbeans and Coffee Depot had taken over our business. I couldn’t even remember the names of their coffees or breakfast entries, let alone how to pronounce or spell them. A Venti Caramel Macchiato? What the hell was that? And what language were we talking? Had suddenly everyone in America become seasoned sophisticates and taken a Berlitz course? A familiar caustic voice cut into my disturbing thoughts.

“Owen, you’re missing the focus group.”

“Huh?” I looked up from the depressing data and met the steely eyes of our young marketing director, Mallory Clint. While only in her mid twenties, the mousy-haired Harvard MBA looked much older in her navy pinstriped pantsuit and horn-rimmed glasses. The daughter of financier Burton Clint, whose hedge fund was keeping us afloat, she walked around as if she owned me. She thought that her father’s clout entitled her to call me by my first name whereas everyone else in the company addressed me as Mr. King. It pissed me off, but I had to treat her carefully. What made me even more on edge was that I sensed that she wanted more than a professional relationship with me. Trust me, I had no interest in fucking her. She wasn’t for me. And lately, with business in the toilet, fucking anyone was the last thing on my mind. This was the longest dry spell I’d ever endured. I’m talking years.

“Sir, this is very important. It’s giving us consumer insights.”

I appreciated that she for once called me sir. I demanded and deserved respect. I was, in fact, known to millions from TV commercials as the eponymous “Donut King,” a title I inherited from my late father who started the chain. To be truthful, they should have called me “Your Majesty” or “Your Royal Highness” or at least, “My Lord.” But at this point, it was moot. Given our latest sales numbers, I was about to fall off my throne.

I hated research. Fuck this shit. I was the kind of guy who went by my gut instincts. Nothing in my life was fifty shades of gray. Everything was black or white. I want it or I don’t. I like it or I don’t. Even my love life was like that. Or should I say lack of one. I’d never found a woman to love. Someone who I’d fallen head over heels for. Sure I was one of Southern California’s most eligible bachelors with the fortune I’d amassed from my donut empire, but that didn’t help things in the love department. I obviously had very particular taste when it came to women. When the right one came along, I was positive I’d know it.

I followed Miss Know-It-All Clint, who’d convinced me to do the group, to the research facility at the end of the hall and took a seat on the couch next to her upon entering. A platter of donuts and a tin of coffee were spread out on a credenza behind me. I peered through the one-way mirror that spanned the length of the room. The group was already in progress.

Eleven motley women of various ages and ethnicities sat around a table. But one respondent, in particular, immediately captured my attention. Holy fucking shit! She was fucking gorgeous. Big, blond, and beautiful. I swear I felt the temperature in the room rise twenty degrees. And that’s not all that was rising. I loosened my tie. For some reason, she turned her head so she was facing me. I got a better look at her stunning face. Porcelain skin with just a sprinkle of freckles on her rosy cheeks…frosted rosebud lips…and a button nose. I swear I could feel her big chocolate brown eyes burn a hole in me right through the one-way mirror. My skin heated up, the flesh near my groin kindling. Sweat clustered beneath my shirt and my heart palpitated. I was having a hot flash.

I kept my eyes on her as the group moderator explained the “rules” of the group. She wanted the women to talk one at a time and to give their true and honest opinions.

“Who are these women?” I asked Mallory.

“They’re Donut King customers though some of them also frequent Starbeans and other coffee chains.”

“Who’s the blonde?”

“Can’t you read her name tag? Maybe you need glasses.”

I squinted my eyes. Shit. Maybe I did need glasses. But as I did, her name came into focus. Olive.

I said her name aloud in my head. AAAH-love. Her name took my breath away. It was almost orgasmic. I let out a loud sigh.

Clint snickered. “Please be quiet so I can take notes. The moderator is going to show the women the current Donut King commercial.”

Miss Bossy Pants. Sometimes I thought she was either a dyke or a dominatrix or both. She grated on my nerves and she’d done nothing to turn our sales around. In fact, since she joined the company three years ago, sales had eroded further. But because of her father, I was stuck with her.

After dimming the lights, the moderator grabbed the remote and our thirty-second spot began to play on the big screen TV. My eyes stayed on Olive as she swiveled her chair to watch it. Her profile was equally gorgeous and I loved the way her butter-blond hair fell over her shoulders. And holy shit. Those tits. Two gorgeous mounds that could be sweet melons; they strained against the flimsy fabric of her blouse, pulling at the buttons. Her fluttering eyes stayed glued to the TV while she put her hand to her mouth as if she was gasping. The rise and fall of her chest was noticeable. It was like she was having some kind of Pavlovian reaction.

I’d seen this commercial a zillion times and mock-said the lines as a mom and her son stepped into a Donut King shop.

“Mommy, look it’s the Donut King!”

“Welcome to my kingdom!”

Yup, that big burly guy with the shit-eating grin behind the counter was me, wearing my royal robe and a crown. A thick, cartoony beard was pasted on my face. I looked more like the Dork King. I hated this spot. But Mallory and her team felt we should be positioned as a family-oriented brand. My eyes darted back and forth between the commercial and the beautiful blond respondent, whose eyes never left the screen. The mom and the kid each ordered a donut, and as soon as they bit into them, sparkly crowns magically appeared on their heads. I looked into the camera and said…

“Donut King. Share the magic.”

The TV screen went black and the moderator clicked the remote. The lights went back on.

“So ladies,” began the moderator, “what did you think of the commercial?”

She went around the table soliciting responses from each of the women. To my dismay, the reaction was lukewarm at best, eliciting monotone words like: “It was okay…Nothing to write home about…I’ve seen better…Meh.” Every muscle in my body clenched. They fucking hated it. And then she got to my Olive. My gorgeous Olive.

“What about you, Olive? What did you think?”

She took a deep breath, her magnificent tits quivering as she did. “I thought it was amazing.” Her eyes did that fluttering thing again. “I love the Donut King.”

Her very first words. Her voice, despite her size, was like a sparrow’s. So sugary sweet. So full of sincerity and innocence. I thought I was going to jump right through the one-way mirror. No woman had ever said they loved me, let alone with such passion and conviction.

“Could you please elaborate,” responded the group moderator. “Are you talking about the donut shop or the man who plays the part of the Donut King?”

Mallory grunted. “The moderator shouldn’t be focusing on one respondent. I’m going to go in and give her a note to move on.” She rose from the couch.

Grabbing her by the elbow, I yanked her back down. “Sit down and shush up,” I gritted. “I want to hear what Olive says.” Oh man, did I love saying her name. I could say it over and over again. I was all ears as her lush mouth parted.

“Both. I love going to Donut King. I used to stop at one every day on my way to work. They have The. Best. Donuts.”

“You don’t go there any more?” The moderator, like me, was quick to pick up on her use of the past tense.

The dazzling dimpled smile on Olive’s face fell off. “I lost my job about a month ago, so I can’t afford to go there anymore. I can’t even pay my rent.” She paused, her eyes watering. “I may get evicted from my apartment.”

“Honey, that’s too bad,” chimed in one of the women.

“Hope you find a new job,” said another.

The rest concurred, a testament to the sisterhood of women.

“Thanks,” muttered Olive, quirking a small smile. Hot damn, she was cute. And I felt bad about her job loss.

The moderator brought the discussion back on topic. “So ladies, what do you think of the actor who plays the Donut King?”

I hated to think about myself as an actor. I was a salesman. A pitch person. So good I could sell ice to an Eskimo. So I thought. The fact that sales were down—way down—made me question my abilities.

The woman who was sitting closest to the moderator chimed in again. “My five-year-old is frightened by him.”

“Same here,” commented another. “He looks like a fairy-tale villain who gobbles up children.”

Yet another: “He’s more like a bad cartoon character with that stupid beard.”

The rest of the group laughed except my Olive whose mouth fell open in a big O. And then her face hardened, her eyes narrowing with fury.

“How could you say those things? I totally disagree. He’s beautiful. I mean, just look at those dreamy blue eyes. Those gorgeous big hands. His dazzling smile and that deep, sexy voice. I love everything about him. I’d be his princess any day.”

I was melting like milk chocolate. She was attracted to me. Insanely attracted to me. I couldn’t believe my ears. She saw in me what none of these judgmental women did. If only she could see me now in my custom-made Italian suit, perfectly groomed, and all buff. My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought it would leap out and crash right through the one-way mirror. I wanted Olive to be my princess. I wanted to rule her body, her heart, and her soul. No woman had ever had such an affect on me. Not ever.

A heated argument broke out among the women, but my Olive, God bless her, held her own.

“I can’t believe you don’t see what I see in him,” she said convincingly, fending off the naysayers.

Truthfully, I wanted no woman to see what she saw. I could afford no obstacles. I wanted her to be mine. And mine alone. I was thankful when the group moderator intervened.

“Okay, ladies, let’s calm down. We’re going to move on to the fun part of our session. The taste test.”

While Olive’s eyes lit up, the reaction of the other respondents was lackluster. I watched as the moderator rose from her chair and retrieved a large box of donuts from the credenza behind her. She set it in the middle of the table.

“Okay, ladies, dig in.”

Not one woman moved.

“What’s going on?” I asked Clint.

“I don’t know.” Edginess peppered her voice.

“I thought these women were supposed to be donut lovers,” I grumbled.

“I thought so too.”

“Where the hell did you find them?”

“The recruiter ran an ad on Craigslist. I guess they lied.”

“Jesus.” Anything to make a buck. Each of these respondents was being paid one hundred dollars to be here and share their opinions. What good were they if they didn’t eat donuts? Adding in the cost of the recruiter and the report, my calculation for this qualitative research, as Clint referred to it, came close to ten thousand dollars out of my pocket. My blood curdled. I was so simmering mad I could see smoke coming out of my nostrils.

“Goddamn it, Mallory. This is a total waste of time and money.”

“No, this is very valuable. Obviously, the donut business is dead. My father should have never invested in your company.”

I was now breathing fire like an angry dragon. “It’s not dead. Everyone loves donuts. We’re just doing something wrong.”

And then as I was about to send her in to end the group, a sweet voice filtered into the observation room. My Olive!

“Would someone please pass me the box of donuts?”

“Be my guest,” said the woman closest to them, handing it down the line of respondents as if it were filled with dog shit. My gaze stayed focused on Olive as the box landed in front of her. She lifted the lid and peeked in. Her eyes sparkled and her lush mouth watered.

“Wow! These look so good! I haven’t had one in ages.” She studied the donuts. “Eenie meenie miney moe…”

I held my breath while my cock twitched.

“I’m going to help myself to my favorite…a cream-filled one.”

Oh yes, my favorite too. It had always been our top seller.

Like in a slo-mo scene ripped out of a movie, she reached into the box and put the donut to her lips. Her eyes closed as she slowly wrapped her mouth around the circle of dough. And then she did it. Bit into it, ripping off a large chunk with her teeth. My cock boinged as the creamy filling seeped out. Holy shit! It was like the donut was having its own epic orgasm. “Mmmm.” A soft moan drifted into the room. I felt like I was going to cream my pants

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she screamed out, arching her back and squeezing her eyes shut as she savored the biteful.

A look of ecstasy swept over her face. Every eye in the room stayed on her as she swallowed and cried out “Oh God” before going for another bite.

“I want whatever she’s having,” shouted one of the respondents.

“Me too!” echoed another woman. And then another and another. “Someone pass the box.”

While Olive finished consuming her donut, the box got passed around, and within seconds, moans and groans filled the room. It was like an orgasmic choir led by my beautiful Olive. Even the group moderator joined the chorus and I could hear her moan.

As I watched my Olive lick a little of the cream off her upper lip, I was having my own mental orgasm. My ready-to-burst cock strained against my pants. My know-it-all marketing director was wrong; she’d jumped the gun. There was nothing wrong with our donuts. Fucking nothing. Olive’s “ohs” whirled around in my head. Ideas were spinning too.

An infuriated Mallory broke into my delicious thoughts. “This is ridiculous. It’s like an orgy in there. I am going to put an end to this group.”

“Be my guest.” I had all the research—and answers—I needed. A satisfied smile stretched across my face. Orgy coincidentally began with a big “O” too.

“These women shouldn’t even be compensated,” Mallory hissed. “Especially that big fat ball of trouble.”

Rage pulsed through me; I wanted to smack her.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growled. But then a bright idea hit me. “Actually, Clint, I don’t want her compensated. Please have her stay behind and bring her to my office. I will handle her personally.”

Mallory smirked as she headed out of the observation room. “You should give her what she deserves for disrupting the group.”

That’s exactly what I had in mind. And a lot more.

“And Clint, one more thing. Please fire our advertising agency and hire the hottest one in town to do a new campaign. I want a meeting set for this afternoon.”

Mallory fired me a puzzled what-the-fuck look. Before she could utter a word, I shut her up. “Do it.”

As a miffed Mallory disappeared, my eyes drifted back to my beautiful Olive.

She had single-handedly put the O back in our donuts. I broke into another big smile. Donut King was going to re-conquer the world. And I was going to conquer her.

 

Author Bio

 

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanatis Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

 
Author Links

SALE BLITZ- Undying Love by Nelle L-Amour

 

 

Title: Undying Love
Series: An Erotic Love Story #1
Author: Nelle L’Amour
Genre: Erotic Romance 
 Release Date: December 5, 2013

 

Blurb

 

A Love Story for this generation, this heart-wrenching romantic novel brings together two people who couldn’t have less in common or more to share.

He is Ryan Madewell, a heart stoppingly handsome Harvard grad from one of Manhattan’s wealthiest families, who’s on his way to heading up his father’s media empire.

She is Allee Adair, a beautiful but sassy art school grad from the wrong side of the tracks, who dreams of living in Paris.

Despite their many differences, Ryan and Allee are instantly smitten with each other over a Picasso nude. They share a steamy, passionate love that dares to challenge everything –including Ryan’s ruthless father, his revengeful ex-girlfriend, and Allee’s dark secrets. Only, it may end too soon.

Here is an erotic love story that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon. It will stay in your heart forever. Love means never having to say goodbye.

NOTE: This standalone novel contains graphic scenes and adult language and is intended for mature readers only.

 

 

Purchase Links

 

FREE until July 15!!!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

 

Excerpt

When I arrived at the Met, it was after nine. Hundreds of people were flocking out of the front doors. I was panting. My eyes searched the crowd in desperation for her. I hoped I wasn’t too late. Finally, after the crowd had thinned, I spotted her. She was wearing a drab gray wool coat and a striped knit hat along with a new pair of eyeglasses that were almost identical to the ones she’d left at my loft. She looked worn-out as she trudged down the steps. Fuck. Maybe something was wrong with her. I mounted the steps two at time, hoping to meet her half way.“Allee,” I shouted out to her.

Her mouth dropped open when she saw me. She galloped down the steps, attempting to run past me, but I caught her and held her firmly in my arms. She squirmed, trying to break away, but she was no match for my strength. I studied her face. Her eyes were painfully sad and her cheeks were sallow. She had lost weight.

“Get away from me, Madewell,” she begged. There were tears in her eyes.

I didn’t let go of her and, in fact, squeezed her tighter. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

“Madewell, please! Let go of me.” Her voice was watery and desperate.

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you answer my question.”

“I don’t belong with you. You’re too good for me.”

“No, baby, you’re too good for me.” I pressed her even tighter against me.

Thunder roared in the night sky.

“Please! I’ve gotta go home and get ready for a massage client.”

Maybe she had just been overworking. Fuck her client. I tugged hard at her ponytail that hung out from under her funky hat. “You’re coming home with me.”

“I can’t.” She blinked back tears. “You don’t understand—”

“Stop it!” I crushed my lips against hers, hushing her, and pulled her down to a sitting position on the step where we were sparring. She couldn’t resist my assault. Her tongue hungrily met mine, and a hot bolt of energy surged through my body.

Lightening flashed, and another loud burst of thunder followed. The sky opened up, and torrential rain fell upon us. But it didn’t stop us. Soaked, our embrace deepened, the warmth of it fending off the icy chill of the pounding drops. I don’t know how long it lasted, but she was the first to pull away. Wet streaks rolled down her cheeks… tears, not the rain.

“Why me, Madewell?” she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Because, Allee Adair, I’m suffocating without you. You’re the air I need to breathe.” Cradling her in my arms, I removed her rain-streaked glasses and brushed away the shimmering rivulets dripping down her face. Just the mere touch of her infused me with light.

She looked deep into my eyes, hers still watering. “Oh, Madewell, I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid of what, baby?” I held her tear-drenched face in my hands.

Her lips quivered. “That I’ll hurt you.”

That wasn’t possible, I thought as I swept her into my arms and carried her down the rain-soaked steps, my lips never leaving hers.

***

I carried her straight into my bathroom steam room. She was shivering wet. I set her down and rapidly peeled off her drenched layers of clothing. I removed mine just as fast. She let me wrap my arms around her naked body and hold her close to me as a cloud of steam warmed us. Tears were still streaming down her beautiful face, mingling with steamy mist. I sealed my mouth over hers and kissed her deeply and passionately. With my lips still covering hers, I lifted her up off the water-coated tiled floor.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I breathed into her ear.

She did as I asked, twisting her long limbs around my waist like a pretzel. I carried her to the edge of the steamy room and pressed her against the dripping wet back wall, just high enough so that my cock could shoot easily into her glorious pussy. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders.

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much.” I studied her angelic face, made dreamy in the steamy haze. My lips latched onto to hers and pressed into another deep, tongue-driven kiss. Her velvety breasts skimmed my chest. I groaned as my length grew between my legs.

“Oh, Golden Boy,” she rasped as my mouth released hers. “Make me come.”

 

 

Author Bio

 

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanatis Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

 
Author Links

RELEASE BOOST- Trainwreck by Nelle L’Amour

 

 

Title: Trainwreck 1 & 2
Series: Trainwreck
Author: Nelle L’Amour
Genre: Erotic Romance 
 Release Date: June 2, 2016

An Alpha Billionaire Romance Inspired by a True Event

Series Overview

 

A steamy and suspenseful two-part series by New York Times Bestselling Author Nelle L’Amour, with both novel-length books releasing on the same day!

Sarah: I’m an utter trainwreck. I can barely pay my rent. Mom’s sick and her insurance company won’t cover her experimental drug treatments. To make matters worse, I work for a total bitch, who makes the Devil Wears Prada look like Mother Theresa. Oh yeah, did I mention I’m probably the only twenty-five-year-old in Manhattan who’s never been laid? Then, I met him on a train. Ari Golden, New York’s most eligible and panty-melting bachelor. Don’t ask what happened. I’m ashamed to tell you, but the truth is it really happened to me. I made the biggest mistake of my life…because an unexpected discovery now threatens to destroy us.

Ari: I’ve sworn off women. At least, having them in my bed. No woman is allowed there. I’ve been hurt both emotionally and physically and don’t want to go there again. And besides, I have someone way more important than myself to protect. Then, I saw her, and from the moment I set eyes on her, I knew there was something different about her. Something special. She sat next to me on the train and I couldn’t resist. I should have, and now I risk losing everything if I don’t stop…because my past has come back with a vengeance to haunt me. The last thing I need is another trainwreck.

Hold on to your seats for the steamiest ride you’ll ever take! When the past and the present collide, will fate derail Ari and Sarah or will it bring them to their final destination before they crash and burn?

Purchase Links

 

 

TRAINWRECK 1
 


TRAINWRECK 2


 

Both books are FREE in Kindle Unlimited

 

Excerpt

My poor little boy. He was still suffering from nightmares.A few moments later, I was outside Ben’s room. His door slightly ajar, I pushed it open and lightly stepped inside, afraid to wake him in case he’d fallen asleep. A nightlight lit up the room, something that helped keep the bad dreams at bay and helped him with his fear of the dark.

“Hi, Daddy!” a little voice shouted out in the semi-dark. He was up.

“Hi, buddy,” I replied, ambling over to his bed. He was tucked inside it beneath a fluffy comforter, his treasured Green Ranger action figure by his side. I sat down on the edge beside him and ruffled my fingers through his silky hair. “How are you doing?”

“Better now, Daddy. I had another one of the bad dreams.”

“The same one?” I asked, still threading his hair.

He nodded. “Yes. The one with the big ugly green monster that has the big scary teeth. It was coming after me!”

His recurring dream. His psychologist, Dr. Brenner, had told me the monster symbolized my ex. Green was the color of her eyes and the sharp teeth symbolized the knife she tried to use on him that horrific, unforgettable night. Though Ben had no recollection of the actual events (he’d blocked them out), I relived them every time he told me about the nightmare. The rage. The shrieks. The sobs. The blood. The pain. The sirens. The vivid, traumatic memory played in my head like a scene straight out of a horror movie. How close we had come to the end! Hatred for my ex filled every cell of my being.

“What’s that in your hand, Daddy?” asked Ben, bringing me back to the moment. I cast my eyes down. I was still clutching Sarah’s heels.

“A girl’s shoes,” I replied with hesitation.

He giggled. “What are you doing with a girl’s shoes?”

“Um, uh, she lost them.”

“Kind of like Cinderella?”

“Yeah, kind of like Cinderella.” The image of my beautiful princess flashed into my head. The delicious memory of eating her under the table made my cock stir and I could still taste her sweetness on my tongue. Maybe I should call her. Find out what had gotten into her and see if she was okay. This wasn’t the way I thought this night would end. Ben broke again into my thoughts.

“Girls are silly, Daddy!”

“Yeah, sometimes.” I thought about playing that silly spoon game with Sarah. I had never had so much fun with a woman. Ever. I desperately wanted to hear her voice. Say her name on my lips. Find out how she was. Eager to call her, I gave Ben an affectionate noogie.

“Hey, bud, you better get some sleep. You know what tomorrow is?”

“My birthday!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“That’s right. And I have a big day planned.”

“Did you get me a scooter?”

“You’ll see in the morning.” Of course, I did. I got him everything he wanted. Though I’d taught him about sharing, kindness, and giving back, I couldn’t help spoiling him. I loved the little guy. More than life itself. He was everything to me. I’d even kill for him. The thought that my ex had almost taken him away from me sent another blast of rage through my veins.

“Daddy, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Shoot.”

“Will you sleep with me tonight so I don’t get scared again?”

I hesitated and then said “sure.” How could I say no?

“Thanks, Daddy.” He moved to the side, making room for me in his double bed, which was just big enough for the two of us to sleep comfortably together. Without wasting a second, I kicked off my shoes and crawled into his bed, still in my jeans and T-shirt. Slipping under the fluffy down comforter, my head next to his on a pillow, I smacked a kiss on top of his head.

“Night, bud. Sweet dreams and don’t let the bed bugs—”

“Bite! Night, Daddy!”

Within a few minutes, he was out like a light. Lying on my back, I turned my head and drank in his sweet face, hoping he wouldn’t wake up again in a cold sweat, screaming and thrashing with terror. His Power Ranger toy was clutched under his arm. And under my arm, were Sarah’s shoes. I guess I wasn’t going to be able to call her. With a sigh, I put one of her shoes to my heart and held it there. Sole to soul. I’d known her for less than twenty-four hours, yet the connection I felt to her both emotionally and physically felt more like a lifetime. I took another peek at my peaceful, sleeping little boy. Both his shrink and mine said it had to happen sometime. But I was scared. A woman had scarred us both once and I could never let that happen again. But Sarah seemed different. Was Ben ready to have another woman in his life? And the even bigger questions: Was I? And then my heart stuttered. Sarah kept running away from me. Maybe none of this was meant to be. That she wanted no part of me. I couldn’t blame her. I was a fucked up trainwreck. A nice, intelligent, pretty girl like her needed someone better. Someone who wouldn’t treat her like a disposable girl toy. And who wasn’t afraid to love.

Still clutching her shoes, I let the darkness blanket me and sleep take over my body and mind. Saarah…Saarah…Saarah. I couldn’t get her out of my head. She was under my skin, and as I drifted off, I felt her in my bloodstream awakening my heart.

 

 

Author Bio

 

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanatis Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

 
Author Links

CHAPTER REVEAL- Trainwreck by Nelle L’Amour

 

 

Title: Trainwreck 1 & 2
Series: Trainwreck
Author: Nelle L’Amour
Genre: Erotic Romance 
 Release Date: June 2, 2016

An Alpha Billionaire Romance Inspired by a True Event

Series Overview

 

A steamy and suspenseful two-part series by New York Times Bestselling Author Nelle L’Amour, with both novel-length books releasing on the same day!

Sarah: I’m an utter trainwreck. I can barely pay my rent. Mom’s sick and her insurance company won’t cover her experimental drug treatments. To make matters worse, I work for a total bitch, who makes the Devil Wears Prada look like Mother Theresa. Oh yeah, did I mention I’m probably the only twenty-five-year-old in Manhattan who’s never been laid? Then, I met him on a train. Ari Golden, New York’s most eligible and panty-melting bachelor. Don’t ask what happened. I’m ashamed to tell you, but the truth is it really happened to me. I made the biggest mistake of my life…because an unexpected discovery now threatens to destroy us.

Ari: I’ve sworn off women. At least, having them in my bed. No woman is allowed there. I’ve been hurt both emotionally and physically and don’t want to go there again. And besides, I have someone way more important than myself to protect. Then, I saw her, and from the moment I set eyes on her, I knew there was something different about her. Something special. She sat next to me on the train and I couldn’t resist. I should have, and now I risk losing everything if I don’t stop…because my past has come back with a vengeance to haunt me. The last thing I need is another trainwreck.

Hold on to your seats for the steamiest ride you’ll ever take! When the past and the present collide, will fate derail Ari and Sarah or will it bring them to their final destination before they crash and burn?

 

Excerpt

 

SARAH

The door to the unisex lavatory located at the back of the Amtrak cabin was locked. That meant someone was inside. I tapped my foot impatiently, my head filling with the image of the blond, blue-eyed Adonis sitting next to me. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? These kinds of things never happened to geeky me. They were the stuff of novels and movies. Not my mundane all-work-no-play life.

“Hi.” A familiar velvety voice catapulted me out of my thoughts, and a waft of warm breath blew across the nape of my neck. I spun around.

My mysterious stranger. His crisp blue eyes burned into mine, making my temperature soar and my bones turn to liquid. What was he doing here? I suppose he had to go. I couldn’t stop that.

I turned my head away, and stared squarely at the bathroom door, praying silently that whoever was in there would hurry up. He blew hot air on my neck again and wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me tight against his rock-hard body. A warm, hard bulge pressed against my buttocks. I was all twisted up with nerves and might need the bathroom more than I’d originally thought.

Finally, the door burst open in my face; a sour-faced matron barged out. Calling on every muscle in my body, I broke free of Trainman’s grip and hastily dashed inside. My hands shaky, I fumbled to slide the latch, but before I could get it through the lock, the door forcefully swung open.

“I couldn’t wait,” Trainman growled, pushing me against the edge of the sink. He pressed his hips tight against mine. I was trapped.

He leaned in close to me. A mix of his warm, minty breath and expensive cologne with its musky scent rushed up my nose. His eyes narrowed, turning into collectible slivers of blue sea glass. His mouth descended on the right side of my neck then slowly trailed upward to my earlobe. He clamped his warm, soft lips on the cartilage, alternating between nipping and sucking it. Oh my God! I didn’t know my earlobes could feel so much. The last time they felt anything was when I got them pierced in eighth grade. And that was pain. Pure pain. Now what I was feeling was bliss. Pure, tingly bliss…and the sensation was coursing through my entire body.

Still pressing me hard against the sink with his hipbones, he pinched my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and then began kneading them in small circles, each rotation harder than the one before. Magically, the delicate buds puckered and peaked beneath my cotton tee. A new I-want-to-burst-out-of-my skin sensation gathered in the triangle between my legs. It was if my tits and clit were connected by a power cord. I moaned softly.

“You don’t wear a bra,” he murmured in my ear.

I rarely wore a bra because I really didn’t need one. My boobs never got past a small A-cup, the size of old-fashioned champagne saucers. Before I could say a word, that is if I could utter a word, he whispered, “Sexy.”

Me, Sarah, plain and tall, sexy? And this coming from this gorgeous beast? Pinch me. I must be dreaming this entire fantasy. As if on cue, he pinched one of my nipples again. My girl bits roared in delight. No, this was real. And it was happening to me. Sarah Greene. Art school graduate. Aspiring toy designer. Twenty-five-year-old virgin.

I stared at his breathtaking face. His eyes were cast downward. A sly smile tipped to the left made me nervous. In a good way.

While one hand continued to twirl a nipple, the other slid down my torso past my tight, twisted abdomen and under the elastic waistbands of both my skirt and pantyhose. His hands felt like hot velvet as they explored my inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he purred. “No panties?”

I never wore panties with pantyhose. Why bother? They were called pantyhose for a reason. And I confess, not buying expensive panties—and bras—saved me a lot of money. Money I needed desperately to visit my mother.

“Very sexy,” he said, enunciating each syllable, as his fingertips made their way to the triangle between my legs. They stopped to caress my patch of hair, stroking it as if it were a beloved pussy…cat.

“So soft and silky,” Trainman purred again as if I were auditioning for one of those look-at-my-gorgeous-hair Pantene commercials.

After a tug of a curled clump, his fingers crawled to the sensitive folds between my legs. They explored this new territory eagerly like someone who was searching for gold. And then he discovered it. The nugget. Greedily, he rubbed the pad of this thumb around his discovery with intense little circles that were driving me insane. I squirmed against the sink as a loud moan escaped my lips.

“Do you like this?” he crooned, picking up his pace and applying more pressure.

“It feels good.” That was an understatement. Holy cow! It felt amazing! Buzzing with intense pleasure, I wanted to jump out of my skin. My eyes caught a glimpse of him. A wicked smile crossed his gorgeous face, and his piercing blue eyes glistened.

“Saarah, I can’t help myself,” his voice all hot and breathy. “I want you.”

And despite myself, I wanted him. So badly I was panting like a dog in heat.

“I want to fuck you senseless. Will you let me?”

“Yeah, cool.” Cool? What was wrong with me? I was anything but cool. I was a total hot mess who couldn’t add one and one.

A pleased, sexy as sin smile played on his face. Still massaging my clit with his thumb, he plunged his long thick middle finger inside me. I gasped, not prepared for the shock of penetration. Shockwaves spread through my body as his finger slid up and down the soaked walls, each thrust deeper than the one before.

“Jesus,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking hot and wet for me. And you’re as tight as a virgin.”

I gulped. Should I tell him? Was I supposed to? Or would this confession turn him off?

As I contemplated what to do, he continued his ministrations, pumping me harder.

Dripping with my own wet heat, I gasped again, still not sure this was really happening. My core was aching for more. Desperate for it. Why was I not resisting?

“I’m going to take you now,” he growled.

Take me where? I didn’t want to be anywhere, any place but here in this cramped bathroom with this sinfully sexy mysterious sorcerer who was doing his magic on me.

Using his free hand, he yanked down both my skirt and hose. My eyes glanced down at my skirt puddled on the floor and my pantyhose scrunched up above my scuffed up boots. His hand made its way back up, and I heard him unzip his fly. My gaze stopped short at a massive hunk of pink, veined flesh that was aimed at my crotch. Yowzer! I was ready to surrender. Yes, take me now.

“Sit on the sink,” he ordered as he expertly rolled on a latex condom that seemed to come out of nowhere.

I was in no condition to argue. I plunked my buttocks down on the edge of the shiny basin. The cold metal gave me goosebumps all over. Wasting no time, he tugged off my boots, without untying them, and then slipped off the hose.

“Now, spread your legs.”

Yes, sir.

He splayed his large hands on my narrow hips to anchor me. An intensity washed over his face. Like an artist who was contemplating painting his masterpiece.

“Now, Saarah, take me and insert me where you want me.”

Holy shit! He wanted me to touch that monstrosity. Cradle it in my hands? Our eyes met, mine wide-eyed with fear and excitement, his hooded with determination and desire.

Hesitantly, I curled my trembling fingers around the pillar of flesh, surprised that they could circle around it despite its girth. I’d never felt a man’s cock before. The touch beneath my fingers was hot, velvety, and pulsing with energy. Burning with desire, I knew exactly where I wanted it. The hollowness inside me was crying out for it. I needed to be sated by him. Totally consumed.

My fingers on fire, I angled his cock toward the opening between my legs and put the wide crown to my entrance. I suddenly had second thoughts. Shit. Was his mammoth erection going to fit inside me? I silently shuddered. What if it didn’t fit? And even if it did, would I know what to do? As much as I wanted him, I was so not prepared for this. My heart stuttered at the thought of letting down this sex god. Of being a failure. And then regretting my actions. This was so not how I envisioned losing my V-card. I dreamt about being swept away by the man of my dreams. But he was the man of my dreams. Should I tell him I was a virgin?

“Saarah…”

Okay. I was going to tell him the truth. He needed to know.

But on my next heated breath, he stopped me, fierce like a freight train on its mission. With a sharp thrust, he jettisoned his enormous erection deep inside me. I winced. The initial pain and shock of his penetration was enough to make me almost fall off the sink, or into it, but as my muscles relaxed, it felt amazing. Like it belonged and had found its home sweet home.

“Christ, I just can’t believe how tight you are. It feels so fucking amazing.” Rolling his tongue over his lips, he lifted me off the sink basin so that we were almost face-to-face. My feet dangled like a rag doll’s not touching the floor below.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered, holding me firmly.

In no condition to argue, I did what he said, wrapping my long legs around his lean torso like a pretzel. He gripped my hips. My arms swung around his neck, and I hung on to him tightly, clasping the rich fabric of his suit jacket between my fingers. This was one ride I did not want to fall off.

With me in this position, clinging to him, he took a couple steps to back me against a wall and then with a grunt, shoved his rock-hard cock deeper into me. I gasped with a mixture of shock and ecstasy as the tip rammed against a hypersensitive spot I never knew I had. He groaned. He slid his rod nearly out and then thrust it back in, this time hitting the spot even harder. I moaned. He groaned louder. He repeated the pattern, speeding it up with every forceful thrust. How could that giant thing between his legs fit so easily and comfortably inside me? Every powerful thrust elicited a moan from me, louder than the one before and a groan from him, deeper than the previous. I moved my hands to his ass, cupping the rock-hard glutes beneath his slacks, and rocking my hips to meet his thrusts, as I fell into the rhythm of his relentless pounding. Our breathing grew ragged; we were panting like animals.

“Oh fuck, baby, what you do to me,” he breathed out, his voice an octave deeper, and sexy beyond belief.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, my voice breathy, my mouth dry.

“Don’t worry.”

And then a loud rap sounded at the door. “Hurry up in there.”

“Someone needs to use the bathroom,” I panted out, panic in my voice at this untimely intrusion.

“Fuck it,” he grunted without stopping his ministrations.

As his greedy length hammered me, hitting that mega-spot again and again, he planted his thumb back on my clit and massaged it vigorously. My temperature was rising. Sweat was pouring out of every crevice of my body. Squeezing my legs tighter around him, I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes to savor the unbearable pleasure this gorgeous beast was giving me.

“Are you on birth control?” The words drifted through my head, not expecting them. I managed a throaty “yeah” as he thrust his cock once again into me. I had been on the pill for several years due to my irregular cycle.

“Good, baby,” he murmured in my ear. I guess he felt you could never be too safe. Tugging my head back by my ponytail, he rolled his hot, velvety tongue up my neck. So, this was my reward for the right answer. The sensation drove me crazy. I felt like a puppy being scratched in her favorite spot.

Whimpering, I didn’t think I could take it anymore between the ruthless banging, clit flicks, and licks of his tongue. My pussy throbbed as a wildfire raced through my body, shamelessly kindling every nerve inside me, from my head to my toes. I was about to implode.

“I think I’m going to come!” I cried out, the vibrations of the speeding train bringing me even closer to the edge.

“Hang in there, baby.”

On my next heated breath, I felt him explode with a massive blast of his release.

“Yes, Saarah,” he roared, drawing out my name.

I simultaneously convulsed around him, my own epic orgasm sending wave after wave of ecstasy soaring through my core. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I wasn’t sure if I was saying the words aloud or screaming them silently in my head. What was happening to me? I’d never had such a mind-blowing experience.

Slowly, he withdrew from me. I was surprised at how big and rigid his sheathed cock still was. Without taking his smoldering eyes off mine, he slid off his spent condom and tossed it into the waste dispenser. Snatching a paper towel, he cleaned himself up and then tucked his thick length back into his pants. I don’t think he was wearing underwear either.

“Saarah,” he said grinning as he zipped up his fly, “do you still have to pee?”

“Yes,” I stammered, as I pulled up the remains of my pantyhose and slipped on my skirt. I was shaking, dazed, and drained from his plundering. He, on the other hand, looked totally together like he was ready to go into a board meeting.

Trainman rolled his eyes and then let me pee in peace. And privacy.

After latching the door, I sat on the toilet longer than I needed to, tremors tearing through me. After putting my boots back on, I gazed at the big rip in my pantyhose in the so-called “reinforced” crotch area. My inner thighs trembled. The events that had just happened spun around in my head while orgasmic vibrations were still coming at me with the force of a rockslide. Why did I let myself do this? Why? Neediness? Insecurity? Maybe a desperate escape from the anguish my dying mother was causing? Or just because this man was the sexiest beast I’d ever laid my eyes on? A golden-haired Adonis. Finally, I tore off a generous piece of toilet paper and wiped by bottom from front to back just like my mother had taught me. A crimson stain soaked the soft white paper. I was bleeding. Reality hit me like a brick. I had just lost my virginity to a stranger on a train.

In a state of mild shock, I slowly raised myself from the toilet, pulled up my damp, crotchless hose, and washed my hands in the sink that now held so many memories for me. I splattered a little of the cold water on my face and sipped some from my hands to quench my parched mouth. For the first time, I looked at myself in the mirror. My reflection startled me. My hair was disheveled; my big brown eyes half-moons, and my full-lipped mouth locked in a parted pout. I was no longer the girl who, only minutes ago, had almost been squished by a pair of automatic train doors. I looked like a woman. A woman who had just been fucked. Big time.

Hastily, I fixed my ponytail and splashed some more water on my face. I glimpsed myself again in the mirror. Not too much better, but at least better. Taking a deep breath, I unlatched the door and made my way back to my seat. My legs were like Jell-O and my body was shaking. And between my inner thighs, my pussy was blazing.

Trainman flashed a dimpled smile when he saw me staggering down the aisle. Though cocky, it was dazzling, and his blue eyes glinted with victory. I was once again aroused by his gorgeousness. As I continued my walk of shame, I thought about how cool, calm, and collected he looked. Maybe he was a pro at this routine—find a sweet, innocent girl like me and have her kiss her V-card goodbye. Another typical ride home. And I was just a number.

My heart rattled at the thought as I neared him. This time in true gentlemanly fashion, he rose from his seat and let me slide into mine with a modicum of grace. We were back to sitting side by side.

As the speeding train passed through different neighborhoods, from the poorest to the toniest, we shared a self-imposed silence. He was back to reading his Wall Street Journal so I kept my head turned, looking out the window. A million questions whirled around in my head. I wondered—who was this man?…what did he do?…why did he choose me?…would I ever see him again? The last question troubled me the most. With a growing feeling of having been used, I swiveled my head and stared at his swoon-worthy, high-cheekboned profile that showed off his long lashes, strong chin, and fine Roman nose. What was he thinking? Why was he ignoring me? The impassive look on his face made his thoughts unreadable, and it frustrated me to no end.

Jesus. He’d just fucked my brains out. Stolen my virginity. And he wasn’t talking to me. I thought about snatching his precious newspaper out of his hand and blurting, “Just for your information, I’m a virgin. Or up until five minutes ago, I was a virgin.” But the consequences of my actions frightened me. I feared he might laugh at me. I didn’t need to feel more insignificant and used than I already did.

Unfortunately, the aftershocks of my insane orgasm were not dying down, and in fact, intensified with the friction of the train zooming over the tracks. Overwhelmed by the long day’s events and a mixture of remorse and regret, I set my comfy leather chair into a reclining position while Ari pulled out his iPhone from his briefcase and caught up on emails. His skilled hands moved quickly on the touch screen keyboard. God, he was good with those fingers! But he continued to ignore me as if I didn’t exist. With a heavy heart, I peered out the window and again soaked in the scenery. An empty feeling washed over me at the memory of his fullness inside me. Before long, I could no longer keep my eyes open and drifted off.

 

 

 

Author Bio

 

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanatis Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

 
Author Links

COVER REVEAL- Trainwreck by Nelle L’Amour

 

 

Title: Trainwreck 1 & 2
Series: Trainwreck
Author: Nelle L’Amour
Genre: Erotic Romance
Cover Design: Arijana Karcic, Cover It! Designs 
 Release Date: June 2, 2016

An Alpha Billionaire Romance Inspired by a True Event

Series Overview

 

A steamy and suspenseful two-part series by New York Times Bestselling Author Nelle L’Amour, with both novel-length books releasing on the same day!

Sarah: I’m an utter trainwreck. I can barely pay my rent. Mom’s sick and her insurance company won’t cover her experimental drug treatments. To make matters worse, I work for a total bitch, who makes the Devil Wears Prada look like Mother Theresa. Oh yeah, did I mention I’m probably the only twenty-five-year-old in Manhattan who’s never been laid? Then, I met him on a train. Ari Golden, New York’s most eligible and panty-melting bachelor. Don’t ask what happened. I’m ashamed to tell you, but the truth is it really happened to me. I made the biggest mistake of my life…because an unexpected discovery now threatens to destroy us.

Ari: I’ve sworn off women. At least, having them in my bed. No woman is allowed there. I’ve been hurt both emotionally and physically and don’t want to go there again. And besides, I have someone way more important than myself to protect. Then, I saw her, and from the moment I set eyes on her, I knew there was something different about her. Something special. She sat next to me on the train and I couldn’t resist. I should have, and now I risk losing everything if I don’t stop…because my past has come back with a vengeance to haunt me. The last thing I need is another trainwreck.

Hold on to your seats for the steamiest ride you’ll ever take! When the past and the present collide, will fate derail Ari and Sarah or will it bring them to their final destination before they crash and burn?

 

Excerpt

 

The next thing I knew, his lips were consuming mine, my face now cradled in his ample hands. My eyes closed, I could hear him softly moaning, as he pressed harder, deepening the kiss. My parted lips made an easy entry for his tongue; it instantly found mine and I couldn’t say no to the warm, velvety suitor. I had wanted his kiss ever since we’d met. Our tongues swirled together, his dancing across my palate and the hollows of my cheeks. Oh God, he tasted delicious. Sweet and minty and just a little salty. Oh what a kisser! Melting, I moaned into his mouth.Still holding my keys, I wrapped my arms around his neck and raked the unencumbered fingers of my other hand through his thick, damp hair. His hands slithered down my neck to my chest, until they landed on my breasts. Squeezing and massaging them, he brushed his thumbs across my nipples. Desire was pooling between my legs at the speed of a locomotive.

With one arm, he drew me closer to him. I could feel my hard, erect nipples rub against his soaked cotton shirt. I folded my arms around his taut torso, pressing my body tighter against his.

Moving his hands to my waist, he forcefully shoved me against the hard wooden door, pinning me against it with his equally hard body. My groin ached as the hard wedge between his legs pressed against it. I dug my fingers into his narrow hips, clutching the tails of his tennis shirt. He was still kissing me passionately. The wildfire inside me kept spreading. I couldn’t believe this scene—straight out of a movie— was actually happening to me. With this gorgeous, gorgeous creature.

Slowly, he withdrew his tongue from my mouth. His breathing was heavy, his beautiful face with its hooded blue eyes only a palm’s width away from mine. His tongue flicked across my neck and then his warm breath blew in my ear. Clasping a large hand over mine, he expertly transferred my house keys into his possession.

“Saarah,” he whispered, “I need a shower.”

That made two of us. I was dripping wet. Soaked with his sweat and mine. I don’t know whose was whose. Our musky mists mingled.

With two simple twists, he managed to unbolt the double lock. After turning the doorknob, he kicked the door open and, in one smooth move, scooped me up in his arms. I brushed the sweat off his brow and then wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his manly sweat mixed with mine.

Effortlessly, he carried me up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I ran my fingers through his hair and let myself just enjoy the ride. With every step, the throbbing inside me grew more intense. Along the way, we passed Mrs. Blumberg with her shopping cart. Her eyes grew wide. I simply waved at her, stifling a giggle. I knew what she must have been thinking. Oy! She’s going to let him touch her there.

Oh yes, I was!

Still holding me in his arms, Ari managed to unlock the door to my apartment, again easily with two quick passes of my key. I was beginning to think he had a special talent when it came to inserting things. Be it a key. His tongue. Or his dick. Just like before, he kicked the door open and then kicked it again, slamming it shut behind us.

Embarrassment crept over me. Here was this drop-dead gorgeous billionaire, who probably lived in some Park Avenue penthouse, in my rinky-dink one bedroom apartment. At least, it was clean and tidy. Trainman didn’t stop to notice a thing. Not even Jo-Jo who meowed loudly and brushed up against his legs. As if he’d been here a hundred times before, he carried me straight into the tiny bathroom down the hall. Given that my apartment was only 300 square feet, I guess it wasn’t too hard to find.

After gently setting me down, he yanked the shower curtains apart and turned on the water. A forceful steamy spray poured down from the showerhead. The one thing this apartment had was good water pressure.

“Take off my shirt,” he growled.

Like a stalwart soldier, I did what he asked, my fingers trembling as I lifted his damp shirt over his head. He brushed his taut bronzed chest against mine. A shudder ran through me, all the way down my spine.

“Now pull down my shorts.”

Nervously, I fumbled to undo the button and the fly. His monstrous cock shot through the fly even before I could finish unzipping it. It was aimed at me like it was a rifle and I was the target. As I stood there wordlessly, his white shorts fell to the tiled floor.

“Saarah, get undressed.”

I couldn’t move. I was shocked into paralysis by the magnificent body that stood before me. I had taken sculpting classes at RISD and had studied all the great Italian masters, but nothing compared to the golden-haired Adonis that was standing right here in my bathroom. The serrated muscles of his long legs bulged just the right amount in all the right places and connected seamlessly with those narrow hips and that perfect pelvic-V. My eyes traveled up his lean torso, lingering on his rippled abs, sculpted chest, and manly broad shoulders. And then, they closed in on that chiseled face with its parted lips and gemstone eyes that fixated on me. This man, this god, he belonged in a museum for the world to behold, not here in my hole-in-the-wall bathroom. Except there was no fig leaf in the world that would cover the hunk of hard flesh that jutted out between his legs.

He let out a long, breathy sigh. “Oh, Princess, must I do everything for you?”

I remained paralyzed as he lifted my tank top over my head and yanked down my running shorts. He stepped back and studied me, his lush lips tightening and his eyes narrowing as if they were scrutinizing every fine detail. While it was hot as hell in my un-air conditioned apartment, a chill ran through me as his eyes roamed up and down my body. Maybe he didn’t like what he saw. The impassive expression on his face was unreadable.

Then, that dazzling, dimpled smile broke loose. “Saarah, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

Another shiver shot through me. Had he been fantasizing about what I looked like without my clothes on?

Before I could I build up the courage to ask him, he grabbed my hand and led me into the shower. The hot water poured down forcefully on both of us, soaking us to the bone. Facing me, he yanked the elastic off my ponytail, allowing my wavy chestnut hair to cascade down to the middle of my back. Finding my shampoo, he squirted a few drops on my head and started lathering my scalp as he flutter kissed my face. I closed my eyes and moaned. It felt good. So good. He let the pounding water wash off all the suds before applying the conditioner.

“Mmm, baby, you smell so good.” He nuzzled the nape of my neck while his hands cupped my buttocks. “And you’ve got a great ass too.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled as a hand moved between my inner thighs. I was soaking wet there too, though not exactly from the shower. He began to caress the tender folds with long even strokes. Breathy pants escaped my chest as the slit tucked between them ached for his entry.

With his other hand, he led my hand to his enormous erection, spreading my fingers around the hot, wet column of flesh. He moved my fist up and down, letting go once he knew I knew what to do. As I pumped him with vigor, he squeezed his eyes shut and hissed, “Oh baby, you’re doing it just right. It feels so fucking good.” My reward was the insane pleasure that pulsed between my legs as he began to rub my clit.

“Princess, your gorgeous clit is like a rosebud,” he murmured, his voice all breathy and filled with lust.

I moaned at his words. A beautiful orgasm was blossoming. I threw my head back, channeling my ecstasy into the pleasure I was giving him.

“Now wash my cock, baby. All over,” he ordered, slipping a bar of soap into my free hand.

Another command. Holding his heavy balls in my palm, I ran the bar of soap up and down his long thick shaft from the root to the crown, instinctively applying pressure. When I got to the bulbous tip, I circled the soap around its circumference and heard him blissfully hiss again.

“Now, just use your hand.”

Letting the soap fall to my feet, I did again as he asked and slid my hand along the slick, soapy shaft, surprised how easily it glided across his length. I picked up my pace, applying more pressure. I could feel his cock expanding in my palm, growing harder and bigger with each vigorous stroke. Down below between my thighs, his fingers pressed firmly against my bud, coaxing it to explode in full bloom.

As the shower stall steamed up, my breathing turned ragged and so did his. The tension between my legs was mounting, rapidly heading toward the unbearable.

“Do you want to come with my cock inside that tight little pussy of yours?” He rolled his tongue inside my ear, the strangely erotic sound bringing even more pleasure to where I felt it most.

“Please!” It was a cry of desperation. I wanted him terribly.

 

Author Bio

 

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanatis Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but still enjoys playing with toys…with her husband. While she writes in her PJ’s, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She aspires to write steamy stories with characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever.

Her bestselling series include Unforgettable, THAT MAN, Gloria’s Secret, Seduced by the Park Avenue Millionaire and critically acclaimed Undying Love. Writing under another pen name, she is also the author of the bestselling fantasy romance series, Dewitched: The Untold Story of the Evil Queen.

To learn about her new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for her newsletter and follow her on social media. Nelle loves to hear from her readers.

 
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RELEASE BLITZ- That Man Trilogy by Nelle L’Amour

Title: That Man Trilogy (Boxed Set Standalone)

Series: That Man

Author: Nelle L’Amour

Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy

 Release Date: January 29, 2016

Blurb

ONLY $.99 for a Limited Time Only. And FREE! on Kindle Unlimited. Regular Price: $5.99. THE USA TODAY INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLING SERIES! Be prepared to laugh, cry, and swoon!!

There’s a new beautiful player in town…

Blake Burns, the scorchin’ hot head of SIN-TV, who goes through women like some go through water. Until he meets Jennifer McCoy, his outspoken new assistant and development executive.

Newly engaged Jennifer has no idea that her devastatingly gorgeous new boss is the man she kissed, blindfolded, in a game of Truth or Dare. That kiss, that man, that beautiful stranger she cannot forget.

Blake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss either…and he’ll do anything to win Jennifer —even if it means being a beautiful bastard and breaking all the rules.

The THAT MAN TRILOGY is a steamy romantic comedy. Written in dual POV, it’s approximately 500 pages long and has a HEA.

Purchase Links

99c for a limited time

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Trailer

WATCH THE VIDEO!

BE PREPARED TO LAUGH, CRY, AND SWOON!

Excerpt

My mind returned to the moment. Where was this new girl? She definitely must be lost. I set my eyes on my computer screen and scanned the latest ratings report. Our prime time and late night ratings were through the roof, but as usual, our daytime ratings were lackluster. I just didn’t get why our porn lineup in the morning wasn’t getting eyeballs. Big dicks fucking preened pussies wasn’t cutting it. Something was missing.

“Mr. Burns?” A sweet voice at my doorway diverted my attention, and I looked up from the screen. In tandem, my eyes blinked, my body jerked, and my cock tensed. Subtly for her not to notice.

Though her neat auburn bun, prim tweed suit, and tortoiseshell glasses made her look like some bookworm who should be working at a corporate law office, I swear I’d recognize that face anywhere—with its dewy-skin complexion, delicate bone structure, and those expressive, turned-up lips. Someone pinch me. I must be dreaming. But there she was. That girl I’d kissed last night. In fact, her lips were still swollen. Holy fucking shit!

“Hi, I’m Jennifer McCoy.”

It took several long moments for my brain to communicate with my mouth. I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “Please come in and take a seat.”

Unlike last night when she was blindfolded and took short hesitant steps, she strode into my office with a strong confident gait and lowered herself onto one of the two armchairs facing me. She placed her shoulder bag and briefcase on the floor next to her and crossed her shapely, long legs. I had the burning urge to uncross them.

“So, Ms. McCoy—”

“You can call me Jennifer.”

Okay, let’s start over. “So, Jen-ni-fer, you come highly recommended by my boss, Saul Bernstein.” God, I loved saying her name. It sucked the air out of my lungs.

She flashed a small smile. Two little dimples winked at her kissable lips. My cock twitched and I continued.

“However, I’m not sure why someone with a passion for children’s television would want to work for a porn channel.”

Without flinching, she held my gaze steady. “Adults are no different than children. They need to be entertained.”

That was a fact. And that’s why we referred to our network and programming as “adult entertainment.” I wasn’t done testing her. Or studying her—especially her eyes. Her blindfold had hidden them from me last night, and after she’d disappeared, I kept imagining what they looked like. I thought they might be brown or blue and deep-set. But they were wide-set and green—the greenest eyes I’d ever seen on a human being. When she blinked, it was if they were two leaves fluttering in the wind. I caught my breath.

“Well, it’s one thing to tell a producer of a cartoon that he—”

“Or she,” she interrupted.

“Or she needs to make the shaggy dog bark louder, but it’s another to tell the producer of a porn flick that his female star who’s being shagged needs to scream louder.”

“Not a problem,” she said flatly.

“Well, then, let’s pretend I’m the producer, and I’m not quite sure what you want. Can you please demonstrate?”

“Sure.” She cleared her throat and then took off her glasses, setting them on my desk. Fuck. Her eyes were beautiful.

My gaze stayed fixed on them as she flung her head back, and a look of torturous pleasure washed over her face. It was identical to the expression on her face last night as I held her head back and fucked her mouth with my tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Oh, baby, yes! Make me come! Oh God! Oh, yes, Yes, YES!” Each breathy “yes” was louder than the one before, the last one a roar so loud I thought the whole office would hear her. Holy shit. This girl was a fucking tiger. Beneath my desk, my cock was applauding. Was this how Ms. McCoy, M.A., came, or was she just a great actress? If the latter, this girl should be starring in porn flicks, not giving script notes.

“Was that loud and clear enough?” she asked matter-of-factly, staring me in the face. A slight blush colored her cheeks.

I felt heated. Flushed and flustered. And I could feel my cock uncomfortably strain against my fly. Fuck this girl. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to work with her, but I had no choice.

Collecting myself, I said, “So, I assume you’ll be able to work long hours. Be on the set if necessary to oversee a shoot. Even at wee hours in the morning.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to do a great job.”

How about a blow job? Or a hand job? I bit down on my tongue.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

She scowled at me. Damn. She was sexy when she did that.

“What kind of question is that? What does that have to do with this job?”

“I’m just curious. Is that a crime?”

“Well, it borders on sexual harassment, and the answer is yes. I have a boyfriend. In fact, a fiancé. He’s a dentist.”

Her tone was defensive. Like she was off limits. I glanced at her left hand. There was surprisingly no ring on her fourth finger. I let it go and instead handed her a thick file.

“What’s this?” She opened the file and gazed down at the stack of papers.

“Your first assignment. This file contains our latest ratings reports. I’d like you to review them and then tomorrow present a full analysis of why our daytime ratings are sagging.” I checked my agenda in Outlook. “Why don’t we say at ten a.m.?”

She closed the file and then retrieved her shoulder bag and briefcase. “I’ll get right on it,” she said, rising to her feet.

My eyes glanced down at my desk. “Don’t forget your glasses.”

She twitched an embarrassed little smile. I handed them to her and brushed my fingers against hers.

“Thanks,” she said, nervously setting them back on her face. “And thanks for hiring me. You won’t be disappointed.”

With that, she marched toward the door and disappeared. My cock flexed. I hoped she was right. The word “disappointment” didn’t exist for Blake Burns.

Author Bio

Nelle L’Amour is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment and toy industries with a prestigious Humanitus Award to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago but still enjoys playing with toys with her husband. While she writes in her PJs, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty. She writes juicy stories with characters that will make you both laugh and cry and stay in your heart forever.

In addition to the Gloria’s Secret Trilogy, she is the author of the bestselling THAT MAN series, the Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire boxed set, and the highly rated Amazon bestseller, Undying Love. Unforgettable, her latest series, will be published in Fall 2015.

Nelle loves to hear from her readers. Connect to her at:

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