#BlogTour for Our Man Friday by Claire Thompson

M/M/F ménage – What’s the old adage—sex ruins friendship? When best friends Cassidy and Ian give in to their conflicted passion, Ian pulls back. Cassidy, heart breaking, lets him. Enter Kye McClellan, the sexy Scotsman who heats things up to the boiling point. The sex is scorching hot, but can three hearts truly beat as one?

Cassidy fights the lingering feelings for her ex, Ian. Still secretly, desperately in love with him, she settles for sharing a house and a business. Their lives are intertwined in every way–except the way she wants most.

Fear of commitment drove Ian to push their romance into the friendship zone. But things become decidedly uncomfortable when sexy Scotsman Kye McClellan enters the picture. Ian is faced with the sudden prospect of losing the thing most precious to him.

As both Cassidy and Ian succumb to Kyes charms, Cassidy begins to wonder if she can have all she’s ever wanted…plus one. Then, just as things get white-hot, Kyes takes to his feet to avoid the burn. Ian and Cassidy are left with each other…and an even bigger missing piece than before. All they can do is trust that love will somehow bring their gypsy-hearted lover home again.

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Excerpt

She looked down at his large hand covering hers. Her arm tingled as she imagined him sliding those fingers along her skin, moving upward toward her shoulder. Her nipples were erect and probably showing through the thin material of her lacey bra and tank top. She pulled her hand from beneath his and crossed her arms over her chest.

She thought suddenly about the condition of the house, about the disarray in the huge living room they’d commandeered for Ian’s studio and her work area. They were both so focused on getting the business up and running, neither had the time nor the inclination to do much housekeeping. Despite their best intentions, though most of the boxes were unpacked, pictures had yet to be hung and there were no curtains on the windows.

Oh well. There were worse things than a messy house. Somehow she didn’t think Kye would mind too much. The spare bedroom was clean. It just needed sheets on the bed.

Though she hadn’t intended to pry, she found herself saying, “So it was an amiable split? No broken hearts?”

Kye shrugged. “Maybe cracked a bit. In retrospect, I guess it was just one of those flings—you know, you connect with people when you’re traveling in a more immediate way than you would otherwise. Sometimes when people return to their home turf, they realize they were just kidding themselves. They return to ‘the real world’, I guess you’d say. I apparently was not part of that real world.”

He looked so sad she wanted to lean over and hold him. Why were things always such a mess when it came to relationships? Inwardly she sighed, thinking of her own confusion and longing when it came to love. Aloud she said, “Was she American?”

“Actually it wasn’t a she,” Kye answered, his cheeks dimpling. “It was a guy.”

Gay? Had she misread his cues, comments and body language so completely? Cassidy’s stunned reaction must have shown on her face. “Not what you were expecting to hear, I’m guessing?”

“No, it’s not that, I mean, well, yes.” Cassidy struggled to recover. “I usually have a pretty good read on that sort of thing.”

Kye again put his hand over hers, his touch warm and firm. “Your read was quite accurate. It just so happens I’m attracted to men as well. That’s not so unusual, is it? You give me the impression of someone who’s open-minded about such things.”

“Yeah. I’m totally cool with it.” In fact she wasn’t sure what she was with it, at least in regard to him. What was her problem? Had she already planned to seduce the guy, when on the surface they had only bartered business advice for a bed?

Yeah, she admitted, she had. She could almost feel his hard, strong body covering hers, her nipples mashed beneath his chest, her sex soaked with desire as he eased himself into her heat…

Kye shook her out of her mini-fantasy. “Would you like another beer?”

Forcing the fantasy from her mind, Cassidy glanced at her watch. It was already after eight. “I hadn’t realized it was so late. Say, have you had dinner yet?” When he shook his head no, she continued. “I was going to stop and pick up some tamales. Then I could take you home and introduce you to Ian.”

“Sounds like a plan, though I have no idea what tamales are.”

Cassidy grinned. “Then you’re in for a treat. Do you want to follow me?”

“I’d have to run awfully fast, I’m afraid. I have no car.”

“No car in Houston? How do you get around?”

“I’ve only been here a few weeks. Until today I didn’t need one.”

Cassidy sensed the subject was a sore one. “No problem. You can come with me.”

As they left the bar, Cassidy could feel the eyes of some of the regulars on her. She waved toward some gay friends of hers, George and Paul, who waved back. George, who was always telling her what a great catch Ian was and how foolish she was not to ensnare him, lifted a thumb approvingly into the air. She fervently hoped Kye hadn’t seen the gesture.

Kye put his few possessions in the back of Cassidy’s car and climbed into the passenger seat beside her as she started the engine. She pulled out of the parking lot, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. Picking up a stranger, taking him in her car, bringing him home to Ian? Was she certifiably insane? Yet she didn’t feel panicked, nor did she really question the decision, though admittedly it wasn’t like her to bring someone she’d just met home. Instinctively she knew she could trust this man. There was something about him that put her at ease, once she got past his devastatingly good looks.

They picked up tamales, enchiladas and refritos, and a six-pack of beer to go with it, before heading home. Kye insisted on paying.

Cassidy pulled into the driveway of the old house, with its sagging wrap-around porch and small yard, the grass of which was in desperate need of cutting, bright yellow dandelions peeking here and there through the green. She was embarrassed at the place’s bedraggled appearance.

She turned to offer her excuses, but Kye beat her to it. “What a fantastic old house. I love all the turrets and towers. This must be one of the older houses in Houston. This is really yours?”

The admiration was evident in his voice, and Cassidy’s embarrassment was replaced, or at least mitigated, by pride. “Yeah. Well, the mortgage is ours.” She flashed a rueful grin. “It was a foreclosure and we got it for an incredible deal. It’s still a hefty monthly payment though. Sometimes I think we rushed into it.”

“This house will return its investment tenfold, you can count on it. You made the right decision. It’s a sound old place, I’m willing to bet. A few nails and a bit of paint will smarten it up nicely. Have you got a lawn mower?”

“Yes, though I guess you wouldn’t know it from the looks of the lawn. That’s Ian’s job but he’s been so busy…”

“That I can well understand. Perhaps in the morning I can give the yard a quick mow. I wouldn’t mind a bit. I like to be occupied.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you—”

“And nor did you. I offered.”

They climbed out of the car and walked to the front door. She opened the door, calling, “Hi, Ian. I’m back. I brought Mexican food and a new friend. Come out and meet him.” She held her breath, waiting for Ian to appear. What was she nervous about? Kye wasn’t her date, and anyway she didn’t need Ian’s permission to bring someone home.

After a moment Ian came into the large front hall, running his hands through his short blond hair so that it stood on end, making him look like he’d just woken up. It was a habit he had when he had been concentrating on something for a long time and was trying to return to the world, as he termed it. She had always found the gesture endearing, and her heart lurched at the sight of him.

“Ian. This is Kye McClellan. He’s visiting from Scotland.”

A flicker of a scowl crossed Ian’s face though it was quickly replaced by a pleasant smile. They moved toward one another and shook hands. She knew Ian was wondering if the term friend was code for lover.

About The Author

I’ve been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don’t create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don’t want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.

 

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#BookTour for No Safeword by Claire Thompson

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No Safeword

By: NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author Claire Thompson

Erotic Romance, BDSM

Release Date: February 13, 2016

Goodreads link – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28605366-no-safeword

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Buy Links

Romance Unbound ~ Amazon

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My safeword,” she said hurriedly. “We forgot to discuss my safeword.”

This isn’t some amateur scene at a BDSM club. There’s no negotiation. There is no safeword. You signed that away when you joined The Enclave.”

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BLURB

Jaime Shepard fantasizes about being bound in chains—her heart, body and soul the possession of a Master who won’t hesitate to take what he wants. Unfortunately, exploring dreams of sensual submission has taken a backseat to the daily grind of life, yet she never feels more alive, more vital, more herself than when engaging in a scene at one of the local BDSM clubs.

When the sexy, mysterious owner of Asheville’s premiere underground BDSM club makes Jaime the offer of a lifetime, she jumps at the chance to experience The Enclave, a secluded community dedicated to the passionate realization of a 24/7 BDSM lifestyle. Against the backdrop of a luxurious mountain resort, Jaime’s rigorous, full-immersion indoctrination begins. Erotic discipline and intensive slave training push Jaime to the very limits of her boundaries and force her to reach deep inside to discover the grace and inner strength necessary for true submission.

One thing she isn’t seeking is love—but it might find her just the same.

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About the Author

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I’ve been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM lifestyle, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don’t create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don’t want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism.Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.

Connect with Claire

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#NewRelease Blitz of Please, Sir by Claire Thompson

Please, Sir is now available. Four Dark, Delicious BDSM Romances by New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Claire Thompson get all 4 books for only $0.99

Title: Please Sir
Author: Claire Thompson
Genre: Dark BDSM Romance
Release Date: November 24, 2015
Tour Host: DRC Promotions

Blurb

Four power-packed, sensual and intense BDSM romances from award-winning, bestselling novelist Claire Thompson.
Accidental Slave – An accidental slave, a romantic Dom, the slow, sensual burn of a D/s love affair.

The Auction – Naked, bound and in chains, at the mercy of the man who purchased her—body and soul—for the next thirty days.

Dare to Dominate – Sparks ignite into passionate fire between a free-spirited submissive and a conflicted Master with dominant dreams of enslavement and control.

Heart of Submission – When Kate attends a BDSM intensive, she falls too far, too fast, into an erotic submission that threatens to blow her world apart. Somehow she must find her way to the heart of submission.

Buy Please, Sir for only $0.99

Romance Unbound (all file types) * Amazon

About Claire

I’ve been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don’t create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don’t want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.

 

Connect with Claire

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Blog Tour- Handyman by Claire Thompson

Title: Handyman
By: Claire Thompson
Genre: M/M Erotic Romance
Tour Host: DRC Promotions

Synopsis

What can a sophisticated Wall Street trader and a simple handyman possibly have in common?

Handsome, sexy and gay, Will Spencer uses and discards lovers as easily as he trades stocks. He is used to taking what—and who—he wants.

Jack Crawford, a recently widowed handyman, never thought of himself as gay. Frightened by an erotic encounter years before, Jack has never embraced his deepest sexual longings.

In an unlikely pairing, Will and Jack explore an incendiary relationship, sometimes humorous, sometimes heartbreaking, always scintillatingly erotic. Jack is forced to confront feelings he’s hidden for a lifetime. Will is faced with something he isn’t sure he can handle—love.

Warning: Hot, delicious male/male erotic romance. Danger: Explicit m/m sex.

Buy The Book

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Excerpt

Will awoke with a start, his body jerking in response to a half-remembered dream. He was sitting in his living room, an empty brandy glass still clutched in one hand. After he sent Jack away he’d proceeded to pour himself way too much brandy and drink it all, cursing himself all the while.

I had him. He was reaching out to me. And I rebuffed him. I sent him home like we were characters in some stupid romantic comedy from the fifties. Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Now he’ll go home, sober up and thank God he got out of that one. I’ll never hear from him again. I’m such a fucking idiot.

Will sighed and pressed his hands to his head, which was throbbing dully. Wearily he stood and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water from the new faucet Jack had helped him pick out and stood silently admiring the space.

Jack was more than a handyman, more than a carpenter. He was an artist. The room was elegant, functional and pleasing to the eye. One would never have looked at the burly, masculine Jack and assumed he was capable of such artistry. Will realized he was holding on to a stereotype in reverse—assuming a straight man like Jack wouldn’t be capable of creating something beautiful.

Will drank the glass of water and poured another. Yes, he’d sent Jack away but, though he’d maybe lost an opportunity, he knew he had done the right thing. Any potential erotic feelings Jack was experiencing were too tentative to be taken advantage of while he was under the influence of alcohol. He might have been able to squeeze a one-night something out of it, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

For whatever reason, he had to admit he wanted something more with Jack. Unlike Paul and all the other sex partners he’d had over the years, he felt a connection with Jack he couldn’t explain. It made no sense when he tried to analyze it—Jack wasn’t particularly handsome, he was too old, he was straight, or even if he wasn’t, he came with a lot of baggage to shuck off before they could really have a meaningful relationship. Why would Will want to bother with someone like that? Why waste his time and energy? He could have his pick of men—why choose one so unlikely?

Why indeed? What made a person fall in love? Was it really something so simple as the way the other person smiled when you talked? The way he stroked the wall before applying paint, feeling for any hidden roughness he would sand away? Was it the way he’d touched Will’s elbow as he stood close behind him at the pool table, guiding him with a gentle, sure touch that spoke of his quiet self-assurance? Was it his scent, a sexy combination of male essence and whatever soap he used, mixed with the fresh laundry scent of his faded, soft denim work shirts?

Am I in love?

Surely it was too soon to say. Will knew he was in lust. He knew he wanted to explore Jack’s newfound interest, if that’s what it was. He was dying to pick up the phone and call him—just to see if he got home okay, if he was okay with what they’d talked about. He looked at his watch. Two a.m. was a little late to be checking, seeing as he’d sent the guy away hours before.

With a sigh, he hauled himself off to bed.

~*~

In the morning a single beam of light fell onto Jack’s face, waking him. Before he was fully conscious he knew something had changed. Something had happened that made him feel different, though still in a semi-sleep state, he couldn’t recall what it was.

He became aware of the chirping of birds outside his bedroom window. He sat up and opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight to see two robins, their red breasts proudly puffed as they whistled their springy duet. Jack smiled. He’d always regarded seeing robins as a sign of good luck.

He glanced at the clock. It was after nine. He rarely slept this late. Must have been all that brandy. The night returned to him with a flash, scrolling across his brain like a silent movie. He lay back against the pillows and put his hands behind his head. Just what exactly had gone on last night?

He tried to recall Will’s precise words. I feel a kindred connection, something between us that sometimes I imagine you feel too. I have this crazy idea maybe we could explore it—together.

Men didn’t say that sort of thing to one another. Not straight men, anyway. Yet when Will had said it, Jack hadn’t recoiled, though he hadn’t known how to respond. He felt the same way, really. At least as far as feeling a certain connection—an easiness he rarely felt with anyone.

Will had crept up on him. He’d slipped past Jack’s usual reserve with his disarming admiration and open friendliness. Was that all it was? Was Jack merely lonely? Was Will the first person to bother, since Emma had been gone, to push past his defenses?

Or was there something more? Did he find Will attractive? As a man? As a potential…lover?

Just the word made Jack flush, though he was alone in the room in his empty house. Did he flush because the idea repulsed him? Or because it excited him? Was he finally ready, twenty-six years after the fact, to explore whatever homoerotic feelings he might have buried beneath a lifetime of denial?

Jack got up and went into the bathroom, his bladder for the moment distracting him from his ruminations. After he peed, he turned on the shower and waited for the spray to heat as he shucked off his pajama bottoms and underwear.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. What could Will possibly see in him? He was in his forties, the hair on his chest going gray, the laugh lines around his eyes pronounced, as were the grooves along either side of his mouth.

His body was still strong and firm, as a result of steady, hard physical work all his life. No gym workouts and tennis games to keep in shape, not for Jack Crawford. He’d built his muscles through the labor of his back and the sweat of his brow. He grinned at himself, aware for a horrible moment he sounded just like his father.

He turned sideways, consciously holding in his stomach and thrusting out his chest. Then he laughed out loud. He was being ridiculous—acting as vain as any insecure kid.

He climbed into the shower and soaped up his body and his hair, his mind returning to Will. Will’s body was lean and firm—the body of an athlete. He was definitely good-looking—almost too good-looking, Jack thought. The kind of man whose face you’d see in an ad for men’s cologne or fine Italian loafers.

Will had the look of an aristocrat, that’s the word Jack was groping for. He was young, rich and smart. Why in the hell was he interested in Jack?

Was he interested in Jack?

Will might have meant only and precisely what he’d said—that he liked and admired Jack. That didn’t mean he wanted to have anything more, did it? Just because he was gay didn’t mean he wanted to jump into bed with every guy he came into contact with.

Jack rinsed in the hot spray and soaped himself up again, this time lingering over his cock and balls. He sighed with pleasure as his cock elongated and hardened beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes, lifting his face to the hot spray as he massaged his shaft.

Will… Despite himself, Jack saw those brilliant green eyes, fixed so intently upon him. He felt for one ridiculous heart-stopping moment Will was actually there, watching him stroke himself in the shower.

Would Will like to watch such a thing? Jack flushed at the thought but tried not to censor himself from thinking it. Did Will have sexual fantasies about him? Was he way off the mark about Will’s feelings for him? After all, he’d only said he liked him. He’d said he enjoyed spending time with him. Yet when he had tried to respond in kind, admittedly in a clumsy, drunken ramble, Will had sent him away—dismissed him. Thoughpart of him was relieved, it rankled nonetheless.

“My God, give it a rest, Crawford,” Jack said aloud. “For all I know, the guy has zero interest, no intentions. Here I am, gearing up for some kind of gay encounter and Will has probably forgotten the whole thing. Jesus, I’m pathetic.”

He forced himself to think of a naked woman as he finished jerking himself off. Just as he ejaculated his libido got the better of his conscious mind, thrusting the image of Will, bent over the pool table, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips parted as he prepared for a shot…

Jack finished his shower and roughly toweled himself dry. If only he hadn’t finished the job at Will’s place already. He prided himself on working steady and fast—it was a big reason he got repeat business, maybe the main reason. He had two jobs lined up for next week, though neither would take more than a day or two. After that, maybe he could call Will, invite himself over with some plans for Will’s master bathroom. It could definitely use some renovation…

Wait a minute. What was he thinking? Jack never solicited business. He let it come to him. If Will wanted more work done, he had Jack’s number. He wasn’t about to foist himself on the guy just because they’d maybe spoken a little too freely after a little too much to drink.

If Will wanted to see him again, Will could call. Will, after all, had been the one to send him away. Let him call him back-if that’s what he wanted. And if he didn’t, well, that was that. Jack had been doing fine on his own these past two years. There was no reason to suppose he couldn’t go on just as he had been for the next twenty.

Jack went about his business, making himself breakfast, eating it in front of the TV as he watched the Friday morning news, washing the few dishes and putting them in the rack to dry. He had a small job that afternoon—some finishing touches on a sunroom he’d built on a house not far from Will’s. Then the weekend loomed.

As he poured himself a second cup of coffee an uninvited thought slipped into his head. What if you wait for him to call, but he doesn’t? Will you let this second chance slip away like you did the first?

He had no answer.

About The Author

I’ve been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don’t create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don’t want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.

Connect with Claire

WebsiteFacebookTwitterNewsletterRomance Unbound

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