Heart Ties Tour - Em Petrova

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Heart Ties

SERIES – Club Ties

AUTHOR – Em Petrova

GENRE – contemporary biker romance, romantic suspense

PUBLICATION DATE – Nov 6

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – Novel 65k words

PUBLISHER – Hartwood Publishing

BOOK SYNOPSIS

The only thing keeping Ex-Marine Drake from drinking himself into an early grave is his love of leather, horsepower, and his motorcycle club. Battling to adapt to a world where he isn’t blowing everything up, he roams the highways to keep his mind off his past. But after a mission to kidnap the curvy, tattooed goddess, Delta, he finds avoiding the bottle a little easier. Especially since he can only dream of finding solace against her silky body.

Delta would do anything to escape a life where pain and fear control her. She’s lived as a slave and outsider since she could walk. When a scary biker clan storms into her life and introduces her to her long-lost sister, she’s shocked to find warmth and comfort. While Delta knows better than to hope for a life she can’t have, Drake refuses to let her slip back into the hell she knows.

Plunged into a world of gambling, guns, and drugs isn’t her idea of paradise, but hunky Drake makes her pulse pound. Is it too much to believe that Drake can save her from her torment? And what can she do about extinguishing that burning, haunted look in his eyes?

BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLE US – GOODREADS

EXCERPT

Jamison brought his fist down on the table. “You couldn’t have mentioned that you stormed into the Raiders club and took Delta?”

Drake stared at his vice prez. He liked Jamison—trusted him. Only Jamison knew how deep Drake had sunk after his tours of duty or how much alcohol he’d consumed. The few who knew about Drake’s leg thought he’d lost it in war, but the truth was, he’d lost it to idiocy.

Jamison was a fool if he believed they hadn’t used force to get Delta. “Did you think we’d just parley with the enemy and they’d gladly hand over their woman?”

Jamison raked his fingers through his hair, leaving tracks. His face was tense. “The MC rules are full disclosure. You fucking tell me everything that happens out there.” He pointed at the door and the world beyond. “I don’t care if it’s a drug run or you shoot up a club to get back Ever’s sister.”

“No one fired a shot,” Pax said.

“Then how the fuck did you take Delta by force?” Jamison looked at each of them, probably looking for split lips or knuckles, evidence of a fistfight.

“Drake had a bomb.”

Jamison met Drake’s gaze. He knew what Drake had done in the Marines. What he’d done for his country. He blew shit up, but he’d lost his leg from driving drunk.

“Okay.” Jamison’s eyelid twitched. “From now on, the club needs to know this shit. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Drake wasn’t concerned with the club at this moment. When the asshole Raiders’ prez had moved, Delta had folded up. An abused woman if Drake had ever seen one.

He clenched his teeth. “If this is club business, what the fuck are we going to do to get her back?”

Jamison rested his hands on the table. Strother might be president, but they’d all followed Jamison while Strother took care of his own shit. First he’d lost his son to drugs then his wife had gone crazy with grief.

“She wasn’t trying to escape the Raiders in the first place,” Jamison said.

Drake didn’t agree, but he remained silent.

“She has a right to return with them.”

Silent—until now. “Do you think for a minute they’ll let her come visit her sister?” He had opinions about how free Delta was to come and go anyway. Now they’d lock the fortress around her.

Jamison shook his head. “No, they won’t. But do we start another war?”

The Hell’s Sons had just battled the local charter of the Raiders in order to get Ever back. Just days ago some of their men had fallen. They’d barely gotten them buried, and now they were talking about another war.

“I’ll go alone.”

Everyone stilled. In the other room, Ever’s sobs sounded, followed by Ace’s comforting tone. Jamison clenched his fists. They were all protective of Ever, and that had extended to Delta for the time she was here. Both women had something that reached into a man’s chest and tugged at his heart.

BOOK SOUNDTRACK

Family—Noah Gundersen

Crash This Train – Joshua James

Come Away to the Water—Maroon 5

Lay Low—Shovels and Rope

Boathouse—Noah Gundersen

That Sea, the Gamler—Gregory Alan Isakov

A Tendency to Start Fires—Bush

AUTHOR BIO

Em Petrova lives in Backwoods, Pennsylvania, where she raises 4 kids and a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff. Her heroes are hardworking heroes—in bed and out—and she is known for panty-scorching erotic romance.

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

WEBSITE – GOODREADS – AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE – BLOG –

FACEBOOK FAN PAGE – TWITTER

GIVEAWAY

Up for grabs is a photo of Jax from Sons of Anarchy signed by Charlie Hunnam

AUTHORS GIVEAWAY - CLICK HERE

Tour Organized & Hosted By:

Spotlight on Em Petrova's Body Language

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Body Language

SERIES – The Boot Knockers Ranch #2

AUTHOR – Em Petrova

GENRE – Contemporary western erotic romance

PUBLICATION DATE – sept 9, 2014

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 44,000 words

PUBLISHER – Samhain Publishing

BOOK SYNOPSIS

There are no words for desire this hot…but he’ll sure try to find them.

The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 2

If there’s one thing that Damian Vince can do well, it’s read women. With his trademark wink and sexy drawl, he’s the most wanted cowboy on the Boot Knockers Ranch, a spa where sexually challenged women come to get charmed out of their uptight panties.

He’s also the ranch’s bad boy—he hates to admit he’s had his mug-shot taken more than once. But now he’s on the right path, ranching and fulfilling women’s desires.

Prim grade-school teacher Ruthie Johansson prays Damian will be able to fix her strict upbringing that’s left her leery of men and intercourse, though her body aches for both. Once she sets eyes on the muscular, auburn-haired Damian, she throbs only for him.

As they get skin to skin, her instinct touches something Damian’s been struggling to hide from his fellow Boot Knockers. A secret he’s spent a lifetime keeping buried beneath bar brawls and a bad attitude. But with Ruthie’s gentle coaxing, he just might give overcoming it another try—as long as they do their homework in bed.

Warning: Contains a bad boy with a vulnerable underside, a squeaky clean woman who wants to get dirty, and a secret shame only love and compassion can heal. Prepare to drool while he parses her sentences…one sexy verb at a time.

BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLE US – BARNES & NOBLES NOOK

GOODREADS – SAMHAIN PUBLISHING

BOOK 1 – Pushin’ Buttons

AMAZON – SAMHAIN PUBLISHING

EXCERPT

Ruthie clasped her hands and fought to keep from wringing them. The backstage area was alive with chatter. Excited giggles echoed around her as she waited for the cowboys.

She looked at the other women. They were as diverse as the cowboys on the brochure. Women with every shade of hair and body type huddled together, some talking quietly about what to expect.

With a knot of nausea in her throat, Ruthie didn’t feel like speaking. Besides, when she stepped onto the stage, she would be alone. No one could save her from what she’d chosen to do.

Isabel, the stage manager, buzzed between girls, dashing notes on her clipboard. “You’re up third, Ruthie.”

Nodding, she battled the urge to bolt for the door. Boarding the jet to Texas had given her the illusion she was going on a nice vacation. But once she’d arrived at the ranch and been taken into a private screening room to choose from a selection of cowboys, her real purpose hit hard.

She’d come to find the most sexual pleasure she’d ever known, which would be easy considering she hadn’t found it with her former lovers.

Images of the five cowboys she’d selected revolved through her mind. They were in the audience right now. In a few minutes she’d step onto the stage and they’d fight over who would win her.

She dragged in a wavering gasp just as Isabel announced the first contestant was to take the stage.

Holding her breath with the rest of the women, Ruthie watched from the sidelines as a tall girl with a pretty face and dishwater-blonde hair stood before the cowboys.

Ruthie’s mind clouded, and she stared at her simple, flat leather sandals. How had she gotten here? From the third-grade classroom to a sex club. Her face burned.

By the time she lifted her gaze again, the first woman was coming offstage.

With a cowboy.

Ruthie felt her jaw drop as she came face-to-face with the dashing, muscled man in worn denim, boots and hat. His shirt was blue plaid, sleeves rolled to his elbows, displaying a tattoo of a rodeo belt buckle on his forearm.

“Take good care of her, Elliot,” Isabel said with a grin.

He tipped his hat at Isabel and hooked the woman’s arm more securely over his. He led her through the throng of women and out the side door.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

Ruthie gasped for breath when contestant number two took the stage. She wore ill-fitting clothes that disguised her body. When she took her place in the spotlight, she smiled, and her whole appearance transformed.

“I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” someone beside Ruthie whispered.

Me too. What should she expect? More Q&A? How would she ever keep her knees from knocking when faced with all that testosterone?

“Get ready, Ruthie. It’s almost your turn.”

The knot in her belly pulled tight, and she was pretty sure she knew what expression she wore. In the classroom, it was one she’d come to recognize early—right before the cleanup.

Contestant number two came off stage, grinning like Miss America and guided by a tanned hunk with his hand on the small of her back.

Ruthie shivered, more aware of herself than ever before. Within minutes she’d be that girl, and she’d have some cowboy’s hand on her.

All OVER me with any luck.

“Ruthie, you’re on!”

Sucking in a deep breath, she stepped onto the stage. Her sandals were almost noiseless on the polished floor. As soon as she stepped into the spotlight, she broke out in a sweat. Her watermelon-colored cotton sundress clung to her damp skin, and she squeezed her fingers together until her knuckles popped.

Her heart throbbed heavily in her ears. Through the glare of lights, she could just make out the line of cowboys. They sat in plush leather chairs with red buttons before them.

Oh my God, I’ve landed on a game show. And I’m the prize.

AUTHORS PLAYLIST

Mine – Christina Perri

Begin Again – Colbie Caillat

Stubborn Love – The Lumineers

Unsaid – The Fray

AUTHOR BIO

Em Petrova lives in Backwoods, Pennsylvania, where she raises 4 kids and a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff. Her heroes are hardworking heroes--in bed and out--and she is known for panty-scorching erotic romance.

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

Website - Goodreads - Amazon Author Page

Blog - FB Fan Page - Twitter

GIVEAWAY PRIZES

(2) $5 Amazon Giftcards

(2) $5 Starbucks Giftcards

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY

This book tour was organized & hosted by

Spotlight on Em Petrova

BOOK INFORMATION

Title – Almost a Cowboy

Series – Family Tree Series

Author – Em Petrova

Genre – Contemporary western romance

Publication Date – Aug 7, 2014

Length (Pages/# Words) – novel – 87k words

Publisher – Taliesin Publishing

BOOK SYNOPSIS

Utah Davies is a recluse by choice, shunning his family and denying the ranch that needs his care. His personal life is a broken fence-line of past failures, neglected relationships, and The One that got away. After his father’s death, Utah is summoned home and faced with a secret in the form of a dozen or so more siblings he—and the family—had no idea existed. A clause in the will states he must find the family scattered across the country and unite them all for the reading. Trouble is, he has no clue where to begin.

Until he comes face-to-face with the old flame that burned his heart to ash.

In the July of their love, journalist Caroline Wilks refused elopement with Utah. After that, she made a series of bad decisions starting—then ending—with a nightmare marriage to a drunk. But when hunky bad-boy Utah struts back into her life, the only peace from the soul-deep throb she’ll get is between him and a mattress. He refuses to believe she’s nothing more than a hard-nosed journalist known for digging up more dirt than the family coon dog, but she knows better—or does she? And how can Caroline take the time to help Utah find his scattered family when she has a feature story due by the end of the month? Maybe the human interest piece is standing right in front of her in the dark, brooding cowboy.

Goodreads Link

AUTHOR BIO

Em Petrova lives in backwoods Pennsylvania, where she raises four kids and a Labradoodle puppy named Daisy Hasselhoff and pays too damn much for utilities. She loves to write gritty characters with lots of heart and is well-known for scorching, panty-soaking erotic romance.

BUY LINKS

Amazon - http://goo.gl/npqBhE

Taliesin Publishing - http://www.taliesinpublishing.com/almost-a-cowboy-by-em-petrova-p70.php

FOLLOW LINKS

Amazon Author Page – Website – Blog

Facebook – Hardworking Heroes - Twitter

Networked Blogs

GIVEAWAY

3 $10 Amazon GCs

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Organized By:

Spotlight on Em Petrova

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Love Ties

SERIES – Club Ties

AUTHOR – Em Petrova

GENRE – contemporary erotic romance

PUBLICATION DATE – July 3, 2014

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 84000 words

PUBLISHER – Taliesin Publishing

BOOK SYNOPSIS

You can take the motorcycle chick out of the club, but she’ll always come back.

When her momma saddled her with a name like Ever, she didn’t have a prayer of a normal life. Mix in a motorcycle club and a lot of rough adoptive fathers, and Ever is raised not to take any flack. Five years ago she battled her way out of the Life, got a degree and a good job. The only thing that would bring her back to Heller’s Gap and within range of her ex is revenge.

Jamison’s motorcycle club doesn’t live, breathe, and ride for drugs and guns, unless they’re fighting to uncover the roots of the crimes. After years of watching his friends and loved ones die, Jamison’s only desire is to stop more of the trade from coming into Heller’s Gap. At least until he gets an eye—and hand—full of the redheaded vixen, Ever.

In spite of the world she hates, Ever can’t stay away from the god dressed in black leather. When he discovers she’s practically MC royalty, and that she’s being hunted by her ex and his gang, Jamison’s instincts to protect rev to new speeds. He’d do just about anything to keep her, even help her get the revenge she craves…if it doesn’t break him first.

BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLE US – Taliesin Publishing

EXCERPT

The instant he walked into The Gearhead bar, she knew it. Chatter stuttered to a stop, and the cover band seemed to trip on the beat. Without looking over her shoulder, Ever felt Jamison’s heavy stare.

A shiver raced down her spine, but she managed to keep from contorting into a strange shape on the barstool. Jamison Montgomery. Hell, even his name had serious swagger.

Gripping her glass, she stared at the green contents. Sex with an Alligator was her drink of choice, which had amused the hell out of Jamison from the very beginning. Ever hitched her boot heel on the stool rung and tried not to squirm.

From the corner of her eye she glimpsed the man who stopped every lady—and quite a few men—in their tracks. Six-foot-two with a chiseled chest that served as a fine pillow. Not that she’d admit it to anyone.

The pretty bartender leaned across the polished surface. “Wow, look at him. I bet a girl could ride him to Sturgis and back.”

As if she didn’t know exactly who the brunette referred to, Ever glanced around. And instantly regretted it.

Jamison’s deep hazel gaze latched onto her like a motorhead attached himself to a restored Harley. Ever’s skin broke out in goose bumps at the sight of the same five o’clock shadow that had burned her skin so deliciously not twelve hours ago.

She clenched her knees together and took a slug of the green drink that tasted like a sour apple hard candy.

“Do you know who that is?” the bartender asked.

Barely turning her head, Ever tried not to let him catch her gaze again, but damn if he wasn’t a professional at it. She let him consume her with his eyes a heartbeat too long. Then shaking her head, she dragged her gaze away from his ruggedly beautiful face and tried to play it cool. “Just some dirtbag.”

Her drawl was Deep South even to her own ears—something Jamison had commented on. That and her name. There weren’t a lot of girls named Ever on the big blue ball they called Earth. When explaining her name, she always claimed her mother had named her this, because given a choice, she’d never, ever get pregnant again.

Three stools down, the scrape of metal legs on the dusty wood floor made Ever’s skin prickle. Anything the man touched or looked at turned her into runny grits. The bartender smoothed her hands over her perfectly trim hips before bouncing down to take his order.

“What can I get ya tonight, loverboy?”

“Double of Jack.” When he spoke, his gritty tone ignited Ever. Too well she recalled him calling her baby in the same voice, sounding as if he’d swallowed gaskets and chased them with moonshine.

Ever’s fists clenched with fresh need.

She’d regretted coming back to this Podunk town where she’d spent too many years as someone’s wife. Then the purdiest man in the state of Alabama had wandered through the door.

Too bad he was not a cowboy. Or a banker. A post office worker. Hell, she’d prefer a sewer employee over another man wearing leather and sporting too much horsepower.

She shifted in her seat, aware of Jamison’s gaze. She didn’t dare turn her head because her face would light up like the Fourth of July. With a complexion like hers, she had little control over her blushes.

Last night Jamison kissed her heated cheeks and rumbled a laugh. “You match your hair,” he’d said.

“I’ve gotta use the lady’s room. Save my drink.” Ever’s mutter to the waitress didn’t go unnoticed by Mr. Tight Jeans. She didn’t get halfway down the corridor leading to the restrooms when leather and earthy aftershave overwhelmed her.

He grabbed her elbow and whirled her. Her back struck the wall, but he slid a hand behind her in time to cushion the impact. As Jamison leaned in, breath minty and lips inviting as hell, she panted for control.

“Just some dirtbag, huh?”

He was dressed to kill in those dark jeans, his motorcycle club T-shirt, and a black leather vest that fitted to every muscled inch of his torso. Ever’s knees sagged, and he trapped her more firmly against the wall.

Dipping his head, he nuzzled her throat. She sucked in a harsh breath and fought the urge to twist her fingers into his leather cut and yank him down. The memory of those heated lips gliding over her flesh was almost too much to bear.

“Was I just some dirtbag to you last night?”

“Y-yes.” Her whisper was a lie, and they both knew it. God, how was she going to continue to resist this man? Every nerve ending in her body begged for his callused touch. But no, she had too much to lose.

Going back to the Life wasn’t an option. She’d busted her ass to break free of the world of guns, drugs, and anything on two wheels.

In the background the band struck a new song, the drummer a little too enthusiastic. Heller’s Gap had never been known for its musical talent, but someone had to keep couples revolving on The Gearhead’s dance floor.

What the hell had she been thinking to even come into a biker bar? Old habits would kill her in the end.

AUTHOR BIO

Em Petrova lives in Backwoods, Pennsylvania, where she raises 4 kids and a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff. Her heroes are hardworking heroes--in bed and out--and she is known for panty-scorching erotic romance.

FOLLOW LINKS

Amazon Author Page – Website/Blog – Hard Working Heroes

Facebook – Twitter – Wild & Wicked Cowboys

69 Shades of Smut - Goodreads

GIVEAWAY

3 - $5 Amazon or B&N Giftcards

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Organized By:

Special Guest - Em Petrova featuring Pushin' Buttons

TITLE – Pushin’ Buttons

SERIES – The Boot Knockers Series

AUTHOR – Em Petrova

GENRE – western contemporary erotic romance

PUBLICATION DATE – June 10, 2014

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 56,000

PUBLISHER – Samhain Publishing

Sexual dysfunction. The words make Sibyll cringe, but after one too many failed relationships, she has to face reality. Her O-button is broken, big time. Sick of sitting on the sexual sidelines, she books a week at Boot Knockers Ranch. If a passel of rugged cowboys vying to bring her bliss can’t get her off, nothing will.

Hugh had planned to sit out this week’s rotation of sexual therapy, but when he spots sultry Sibyll, he pulls rank. His bone-deep urge to possess her isn’t enough to coax elusive orgasms out of her body, though. And his resolve to give the lady whatever she needs wavers when she shyly makes a mind-blowing request.

Riggs stepped aside when Hugh muscled in to claim Sibyll, but he jumps at the chance to fulfill her ultimate fantasy—a threesome. But once they come together, all barriers are stripped away, exposing his love for the one man—and woman—he’d break every last rule to make his own.

Sibyll followed her gaze to the door between stage entrance and hallway several feet away. His back was to her and the other dozen women, his shoulders taking up most of the door frame and his white T-shirt molded to a chiseled back. Sibyll outlined his back muscles with her gaze, cutting a path down to a backside hugged by worn denim.

The cowboy pivoted. His face was illuminated by the overhead lights as he talked to the perky Isabel, the ringleader of this insane audition process.

“He has a black eye!” someone whispered.

“From a bar fight? Please let it be from a bar fight!” a woman with a gorgeous head of red hair and thick glasses added.

The cowboy raised his head and stared at the women. Suddenly Sibyll’s muscles tensed to run. She didn’t want to be here, had made the wrong decision. So what if I can’t experience “physical and emotional sensation at the peak of sexual excitation” according to Dictionary.com?

Isabel swooped through the door and pointed at the curvaceous brunette to Sibyll’s right. “You’re next.” Then she returned to the doorway, where she leaned and talked to the cowboy with the black eye.

Dust motes swirled hectically in the lights streaming from the stage. Sibyll tried to follow one with her eyes. Anything to keep from looking directly at that cowboy’s handsome, rugged face.

He was huge—tall and broad and muscled in all the ways that made the knot in Sibyll’s core want to unravel. But it never did.

Maybe if he fights to win me, I could.

He glanced up again, and the group of women tittered. The leggy blonde was led offstage on the arm of a cowboy wearing all black except his shiny silver and turquoise belt buckle.

“Wow, he’s fine. Jenny’s lucky to get him,” the virgin whispered after they passed. They stopped at the door, and the production manager moved to the side so they could pass.

The black-eyed cowboy with the two-day-old dark stubble on his jaw shook hands with both cowboy and contestant.

“You—sexy secretary—you’re next.” The production manager jabbed a finger in Sibyll’s direction.

She looked around herself. A slight girl to her right wore a peasant dress and thong sandals, and the tall, toned girl to her left wore sporty shorts and a T-shirt with an energy drink logo.

“Wh—? Me?” Sibyll pointed to her chest.

“Yep, you.” The production manager whirled back to speak with the cowboy, but he’d strolled through the door and was making his molasses-sweet way across the stage.

He passed the first group of contestants, who froze like a herd of deer in the middle of Highway 495. He dipped his head and positioned a battered brown cowboy hat on it. “Howdy,” he drawled, lips curled in the perfect dose of Southern gentleman and cocky bad-boy.

Feminine sighs sounded in response. Sibyll’s heart thumped as he neared her small group standing nearest to the stage. The closer he got, the more his bulk seemed to take up all the space in the room. Or maybe that was testosterone.

He dropped a wink at the virgin and leaned in to speak to her. “The black eye was nothin’ as glamorous as a kick-ass bar fight. Took a hoof yesterday working with the horses.” He straightened and settled his gaze right on Sibyll.

She stopped breathing as electricity passed between them.

That’s my imagination. I’m so keyed up.

The cowboy cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. Around them, women gawked. Hell, even Isabel the production manager stood with her mouth open, glancing between the huge cowboy and her clipboard.

“Hugh, you’re not filling in today, are you?” Isabel asked.

The man blinked, severing his hold on Sibyll. He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not competin’ today. I’m Master of Games as usual.” He pinned Sibyll again with his gaze. Something dark and exciting coiled low in her belly. What if this man did stand up for her?

I’d choose him in a heartbeat.

Em Petrova lives in backwoods Pennsylvania, where she raises four kids and a Labradoodle puppy named Daisy Hasselhoff and pays too damn much for utilities. She loves to write gritty characters with lots of heart and is well-known for scorching, panty-soaking erotic romance.

WEBSITE / FACEBOOK / TWITTER / NETWORKED BLOG

$10 Amazon GC

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Guest Blog - Em Petrova

Welcome to Em..I love her HAWT stories and one of my lucky readers will be lucky because Em's giving away a copy to one lucky commentor. :) Don't forget to leave an email address.

Loincloths through the Ages

By Em Petrova

Primitive man started covering their junk with leather loincloths when they went out of the cave to say, slay prehistoric beasts and find hot cave-chicks. Pharaohs even had a special loincloth called a Shendoah that made their way into the tombs and hopefully the afterlife with them.

Entering the scene for men’s undergarments were braies. These came about in the medieval times and covered a man’s physique from waist to midcalf. These made it difficult to relieve oneself, however. So man developed the codpiece. Yes, this sounds like something a man would come up with, yes?

The codpiece is basically braies with an opening in the front so they can better drain the lizard. Soon Henry VIII started to pad his codpiece, and then it was all over. Men everywhere were making improvements to the size of their junk, and women were falling prey to the scam.

Next came flannel drawers worn up till the 1930s when boxing became all the rage. Thus the creation of boxers! Early variations of the boxers were belted with leather—how uncomfy is that? Then later improved with elastic waistbands.

Finally in 1934 someone spotted a picture on a postcard from the French Riviera with a man wearing a snug pair of white bathing shorts. *ding ding ding!* The tighty whitey is born.

Since then underwear has taken on some strange trends. From crazy colors and patterns to banana hammocks, men’s underwear has definitely evolved with…er…man. And we women were able to enjoy them since the dawn of time.

What’s your favorite? Boxer, brief, loincloth? Let me hear from you! One lucky winner will receive an e-book from my backlist!

Read on for an excerpt from UNBROKEN, now available from Samhain Publishing.

Christian followed his friend into the house, aware of the long lines of his back and the hard muscles rolling beneath his western shirt and Wranglers. Tucker went to the kitchen for the beer, which was new too, since Christian was always the beer runner.

Unsure of what to do with himself, Christian shuffled around the living room, listening to the refrigerator door opening and closing. When Tucker entered the space, a cloud of testosterone crowded in with him.

Christian swallowed hard and wordlessly accepted the beer. The dynamics had changed between them, but why? Had it been Tucker’s apology? Or the fact that he felt the need to apologize at all?

“Been thinking a lot about Claire today.” His friend’s words made Christian’s heart constrict.

Sinking to his regular spot on the sofa, Christian cracked open his beer. “Yeah?”

“I fucked up.”

“So go get her back.”

“I intend to.”

Without thought, Christian’s words tumbled out. “I want to be part of that. As a third.”

Tucker’s gaze snapped to his and clung. A painful heartbeat stretched between them. Unable to battle his need anymore, Christian set his beer aside, leaned back on the sofa and unzipped his jeans.

A quiet noise broke from Tucker as he sank to the recliner and did the same. The grating noise of his zipper lowering had Christian’s cock hard and weeping with pre-come. While nudging his jeans and boxers off his hips, he kicked off his boots. Usually Christian left his T-shirt on, but today he yanked it off too, leaving him completely bare.

Every inch of himself exposed to Tucker.

Taking his cue, Tucker stripped down too, abandoning jeans with the leather belt and silver buckle still in the loops. When his pearl-button shirt hit the carpet, Christian drank in the sight of his friend’s well-muscled chest, sprinkled with golden brown hair.

Christian rubbed a palm over his own bare chest to the dark trail of hair leading to his cock. As one, he and Tucker cupped their balls, fondling the tight sacs, gazes locked on each other. Webs of want spread through Christian’s body as he thought about finally dropping to his knees and taking Tucker’s long shaft in his mouth. Of sucking that dark purple head and gathering the ropes of come.

He shuddered.

Tucker rolled his shaft through his hand, pumping it once and holding it out, erect, for Christian to see the glistening tip.

Choking off a groan, Christian fisted his cock, pressing down on the flared head so the tip slitted. Juices oozed out.

Then they were off. Hips rocking upward to meet their hands, cords standing out on Tucker’s neck and Christian’s belly dipping with each harsh breath.

BUY UNBROKEN

http://store.samhainpublishing.com/unbroken-p-73008.html

http://www.amazon.com/Unbroken-Country-Fever-ebook/dp/B00D89OGBE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374583220&sr=8-1&keywords=unbroken+em+petrova

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unbroken-em-petrova/1115662730?ean=9781619216594

Thanks for reading! And a big thank you to Amber for hosting me today!

Em Petrova

~hardworking heroes—in bed and out~

www.empetrova.com

Special Guest - Em Petrova

Five Things to Say in Bed

By Em Petrova

When writing erotic romance, I often search for new ways to excite the characters as well as my readers. I thought you might enjoy this information! Here are some things he’d like to hear in the sack.

His name: Let your man know you’re not fantasizing about David Beckham (even though you might be) by saying his name. Punctuate it with a few “ooohs” and moans. It’s a good way to ease into dirty talk, which will light his fires!

Fantasies: What’s said between the sheets stays between the sheets, right? So let loose! Maybe you dream about having sex in a new place such as the kitchen or the backseat of the SUV when the kids are at the sitter’s. Maybe you’d love to introduce toys or a third partner. Talk about your fantasies during foreplay and see if some of them don’t come true!

Action: Tell him what he’s doing makes you…[insert dirty line]. For instance, “Oh, Brady, your fingers there are making me so hot.” If swearing isn’t your style, try some romance novel words like “pulse, swell, or throb”. The characters in my erotic romances don’t hesitate to vocalize this way—and it’s especially fun when I have a heroine who has less inhibitions than the hero. Just think what might happen if tell your lover how he makes you feel!

Encouragement: Everyone wants praise, whether it’s your puppy who finally didn’t mess on the floor or your kindergartener who’s learned to read. Your mate is no different. He needs those positive strokes too. For you erotic romance readers, you know the hero’s praise ratchets up the heroine’s desire. And the heroine’s praise makes the hero feel needed and loved. Take a cue from some of those characters and offer encouragement between the sheets and see if he doesn’t work harder to please you!

Dirty Phrases: Simple phrases like:

“oooh, harder”

“Right there”

“Don’t stop”

Go a long way in the bedroom (or office cubicle or restaurant restroom!). Don’t skimp, but overuse these phrases and you’ll sound like you’re making an amateur adult movie!

Make it fun by vocalizing! I’ll leave you with a passage from my latest Loose Id release SLICK RIDER.

Blurb:

Physical therapy assistant Lilly’s job is to keep rodeo star Juss Rossie off his injured leg and from using his bad shoulder to rope more buckle bunnies. Trouble is she wants—just for once in her life—to be one of those rodeo gals who gets the cowboy. Pushing him to the limits of his therapy will take some creative maneuvering, and she finds he responds in the yummiest ways.

Juss hates like hell to be laid up with injuries and off the back of a bull. But being at the mercy of therapist Lilly is torture—especially when she gets in the pool, on the mat, or crawls into bed with him. Can he recover from her mind-blowing advances without losing his heart?

EXCERPT:

The bell for room four pealed for the third time in a quarter of an hour. Lilly Hall whirled around and glared at the light flashing over the door. The normally quiet alarm sounded like a gong in her head.

“Bed four needs something, Lilly. Don’t keep your patient waiting,” her fellow physical therapist assistant Katie said with a grin. Short-staffed as always during late summer. Everyone went on vacation and left the physical therapists to answer call lights.

“He needs something all right.” A kick in the chaps—bound and gagged. The insufferable cowboy was driving Lilly’s patience to the brink. If she heard his country drawl one more time, she was going to do something very bad. Like hog-tie him with a resistance band.

Juss Rossie, star of the rodeo circuit, was injured and on her turf. He was everything Lilly had dreamed he’d be—his game was smoother than aged whiskey and every hard inch of his body spoke of the power and control he exerted over the bulls he rode.

Now he was confined to a sling and a splint after taking a fall from Bushwhacker, one of the meanest, ugliest bulls on the Professional Bull Riders Tour. Juss had ridden it for seven seconds before he was flung off laterally, tearing his knee and dislocating his shoulder and popping several ligaments. They’d brought him in gritting his teeth in pain, refusing to take any pain meds. The first thing Lilly had done was help hold him down while a nurse administered a big fat shot to his tanned butt cheek.

Yes, he was wonderfully tanned—all the way to his toes.

And horribly infuriating.

The light over his door kept flashing. Having a long shift with a frustrating patient made Lilly grind her teeth and remind herself why she loved physical therapy. For two more weeks she was stuck with him in this private rehab center. Unfortunately, Juss Rossie had assigned himself to her every waking moment of those two weeks. Money could do that.

If she was being honest with herself, she’d admit she was like a cat in heat for the panty-drenchingly-sexy cowboy. How many times had she watched him on the Jumbotron being jerked all over the place and wished she could mount a man with that much skill?

As a physical therapist’s assistant, she often traveled to the arena with Doctor Paddington, who personally saw to several of the riders. She’d never seen Juss up close and personal before though. She would have remembered those steely biceps, corded forearms, hard chest…and the hat he would have worn dipped low over those smoldering black eyes that went with a blacker reputation.

They called him Slick Rider because he’d started out riding broncos, and it was rumored he liked to ride bareback. Actually, his reputation was that he preferred everything bare.

A tingle ignited between Lilly’s thighs. She contained the urge to squeeze them together. Getting hot and bothered at work was a pitfall of hanging around so much muscled flesh. An almost constant parade of rodeo riders visited this private center.

Lilly hadn’t ever dated a cowboy, but it was on her bucket list. Still, not one of the cowboys who had visited the center had ever lit a spark in her. She’d spent half of last night dreaming about being with Juss—bent over, pinned beneath him, and riding him.

The last image had finally awakened her, and she’d had to finger herself to get relief. Taking control of a powerful man like Juss was a dream she’d never forget. But the reality paled in comparison to her fantasies.

“Lilly,” Katie warned when Lilly continued to ignore the flashing light.

“Jeez— All right!” She burst through the door of room four.

He lay there like a tanned god. Long, sooty lashes framed gorgeous chocolate-colored eyes that melted every woman in his vicinity. He always wore a goatee, but since coming here he’d trimmed it extra short. Probably because he’d injured the shoulder of his dominant hand—his left—and was forced to use his right.

Her heart squeezed at the sight of his lazy smile. “Glad to know my money is employing the most attentive staff available,” he drawled.

Insufferable man. Fucking gorgeous, yes. But insufferable.

A crease lived between his dark brows, and his mouth was drawn.

But those eyes—there’s something deeper there than he lets on.

She leaned against the door and stared at him. “How’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten, according to that chart?” She gestured toward a mint-green paper taped to the wall, sporting ten faces in various stages of distress.

“Ten,” he said, his eyes unwavering.

“Is that so? I’m sorry to hear it. One would think a big strong cowboy who gets hurled off the backs of two-thousand-pound beasts could handle a little postsurgical pain. Ah, no matter.” She came forward, withdrawing a pen from her pocket but concealing it in her palm.

He waved her away. “Get out of here with that syringe. Damn, girl, you’re a wildcat.”

“Let me show you my claws.” She grinned and uncapped the pen with her teeth.

Realization sparked in his eyes. He leveled his gaze at her. “You gonna try to pump me full of ink for my pain? Try it and you’ll be sorry, Whiskey.”

She jerked to a stop. Confusion settled in her mind, but warmth tightened her belly. He had a nickname for her?

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Slick-Rider-The-Quick-ebook/dp/B00DUHRMI8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1373475988&sr=8-1&keywords=slick+rider+em+petrova

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/the-quick-and-the-hot-slick-rider.html

Thanks for reading, and a big thanks to Amber Skyze for hosting me!

Em Petrova

~where words mean so much more~

www.empetrova.com