Zara Stoneley Guest Post: Good Enough to Share

Jolly pleased to have Zara Stoneley here again today - find out more about her hot new book.

GOOD ENOUGH TO SHARE (Good Enough, Book 1 – Christmas) is an erotic contemporary romance, including menage, F/M/F, M/F/M and sex outdoors.

One Christmas, four friends – but will they still be together by New Year?

Divorce wasn’t part of the plan for Holly, but then again nor was spending the festive period with two sexy men and Santa’s little helper! With a disastrous marriage behind her, and three good friends who are willing to share, moving on could be fun – if only she can accept that sometimes her heart is wiser than her head.

Dane doesn’t do commitment, which suits Holly just fine. But when things heat up between the four friends, he’s forced to face up to his past. Will realising he’s good enough mean he no longer wants to share…?

Laid back Charlie knows that if his best friend becomes his lover he could end up losing big time. But can he resist? And when the girl he once loved comes back, who will he decide to spend the New Year with?

…And Sophie just wants to have fun. She’s got the answers to everyone's problems, except her own …. is she the one who needs good friends most of all?

Will a caring, sharing, lust and love filled Christmas lead to the happy ever after they all desire?

WARNING - Christmas may never seem the same again!

BUY LINKS:

Amazon (UK)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Good-Enough-Share-Book-ebook/dp/B00AEV1JPA/

Amazon (US)

http://www.amazon.com/Good-Enough-Share-Book-ebook/dp/B00AEV1JPA/

READ THE EXCERPT BELOW FOR A DELICIOUS TASTER:

 “You two out on the pull then?” You know how some deep male voices have that perfect resonance to vibrate right down to the bottom of your stomach and beyond? Yeah, that. I was blushing from the inside out and I had completely and utterly forgotten about Charlie, with or without a surfboard.

Christ, why was it that every time Dane Stephens popped up I was dressed in something that either said ‘shag me, I’m a complete tart’ or ‘I’m a complete saddo’? Or in this case a mixture of both. The fact that Sophie and I were propping up the bar, both with a goblet of wine in hand each didn’t help with the image much either.

“We’ve been working.” I tried to keep my face straight and stop my nipples making a break for freedom as the gorgeous guy who seemed to feature in every one of my current run of dirty dreams rested his hand on my shoulder and sent a warm thrill straight between my thighs. Along with a very strong urge to grab hold of him and give him the type of kiss that would leave a lasting impression. Gee, life would be so much easier if that kind of full frontal attack was one of my special skills. It wasn’t. Best mates with a bit of flirting thrown in as a side order was a better description of my capabilities.

I’d been having dirty dreams about Dane for as long as I can remember. Well, probably since the first time all six foot something of him had swaggered into this bar and given me the type of smile that gave me an almost, emphasis on almost here, uncontrollable urge to strip every last inch of his clothing off in slow motion. But I hadn’t, because nice girls don’t, do they?

“Been out hammering shoes on?” I tweaked a bit of straw out of his thick dark hair and resisted the urge to tangle my fingers in deeper, just in case I’d missed a bit. And then rub a hand over that broad, strong chest just for good measure. He was buff underneath that shirt, I just knew it. Well, I did actually. I’d seen him strip to the waist the odd time at the tail end of the summer when we’d actually seen a bit of that golden orb in the sky they call the sun, and he’d built up a sweat manhandling horses. And along with every other girl on the yard I’d gone weak-kneed and tried not to stare as I’d watched his muscles ripple and a trickle of sweat bead its way down his back. A bead of sweat that needed licking off.

I’d had a thing about cowboys, well, since I was fifteen when my boy friend, as in two separate words, had dragged me along to watch a western in the local cinema. His idea had been to get his tongue down my throat, but he’d faded into insignificance when the hero of the piece had got off his horse. This had been no normal cowboy, he’d been naked down to the low slung jeans that barely scraped his hips and when he’d slipped one hand under the waistband, just as he tugged the girl in for a kiss the rush of dampness to my knickers had shocked me. And left me squirming, and meant that the boy friend got an end of show, tongue twisting snog that shocked me more than as it did him.

And as I grew up I realized men like that just didn’t exist. I just never met a man who’d had the same effect on me, not even the man I’d married had done that. Until Dane had walked in four long months ago and been the nearest thing to a cowboy that the English counties had to offer. He’d probably never had a Stetson on his head, or a rifle in his hand, but I bet he’d look good on a horse and even if he didn’t, in my mind it just didn’t matter. Dane was just hot, and made me hot, and wet.

His jeans were slung just the same, so I just knew I’d be able to see his hip bones if I unbuttoned that thick cotton shirt. And boy did I want to, and I was just itching to slip my own hand tight in there. I just needed an excuse and September through December had left me too tongue-tied to find one. Even if my horse seemed to be throwing a shoe on a weekly basis and he’d been out an embarrassing number of times.

“Yeah, lots of thrown shoes, darling, you know ‘tis the season.” He winked and my mouth watered. Literally. Much more and I’d be drooling, a drooling elf who would have thought? Bugger, I really did need a plan or I’d be spending another Christmas morning just wishing I’d asked Santa for the type of toy box that had long life batteries and lube in it. But was quiet enough not to disturb Charlie.

 “Hi Dane, boy. We—” Sophie was practically licking her lips, he had that effect on every female old enough to have hormones, as she drew herself up to her full five-foot one and a half inches and put a hand on his arm “—have been doing our good Samaritan bit.” She knew him? I didn’t know which bit made the feeling of empty spread in my stomach, the fact that she knew him, or she knew him. Because from the way she was grinning in a slightly flirty, slightly too cosy way meant she definitely knew him. Every bit of him.

***

To read a longer excerpt visit Zara's blog at http://zarastoneley.blogspot.co.uk/

Guest post: Zara Stoneley and Riding High

Today's guest post is from writer Zara Stoneley.  I love the book cover of Riding High.....Over to you, Zara.

Hi Elizabeth, Thanks for having me here!    

They say you can choose your friends but not your family… and there is a lot in this book about families, and how the actions of our parents can affect the way we live and the decisions we make.

I’ve always been very interested in the nature versus nurture debate – does who we are (genetically), or how we are brought up have the greatest influence on us? My personal feeling is that both play a part, and the balance depends on a lot of factors such as our friends, associates and the major events that happen in our lives.

In ‘Riding High’ Saul and Roisin have both been affected, in different ways, by their backgrounds. They have issues to confront, and unless they do their relationship won’t be going anywhere. 

I guess my message is that you can’t run away from who you are - all you can do is learn and adapt, and take responsibility for your own actions. And at the end of the day, whatever our family does, we still (usually), deep down inside ourselves love them and want everything to work out right.

Riding High

 ‘Have wild crazy monkey sex with the first man you bump into.’ Roisin Grant hadn’t intended to follow her best friend’s advice – but, sometimes, what you expect from life and what you get don’t match up. She never expected her husband would have a stash of home-made porn movies, with him in the starring role, or that he would die and leave her bankrupt. And she never expected to be faced with asset-stripper Saul Mathews and a choice. Walk away from her home and equestrian business, or call his bluff and help him deliver riding lessons of an altogether different kind.

An erotic novel with mixed themes including m/f, menage, sex in public and voyeurism.

Excerpt from Riding High

She was glaring, her whole body tensed for a fight, but he knew she believed him deep down. She knew. ‘And what was last night about, then? A time-filler, or does it turn you on shagging the person you’re just about to –’ she paused ‘– shaft in another way?’

‘Phew, that’s below the belt. That’s not fair, and you know it.’

‘Do I? What do I know, Saul? It seems like you’re the one with all the answers.’

‘Last night was just – it just happened, but believe me if I’d known who you were I would never have even stopped for a drink. It was just bad timing, or good timing if you like.’ He could feel the corner of his mouth tip and suddenly she looked like she might hit him.

‘Oh fuck off.’ She flicked the horse’s reins over its head and it shied away, almost bumping into him. Which he couldn’t blame her for.

‘Look, I’m really sorry about this, but I’m not sorry about last night.’ He stepped up closer, met her glare, because it seemed important that she believed him. Last night hadn’t been about business. Last night had been – something else.

‘Stop saying you’re bloody sorry, unless it’s going to change anything.’

‘It’s not going to change anything.’

Her eyes were bright and she was gnawing at her lip, but not in the “come and shag” me manner of last night. Which made him feel a shit. Again. ‘Look, I’ll go through the documents with you. That’s why I’m here. And if you can come up with some kind of proposal to pay a proper rent on the place then I’ll listen.’

‘I need to sort my horse.’ She flicked behind the horse with the whip; it stepped forward automatically, brushing past him, leaving a fine coating of sweat-covered hair on his arm. Fine, so she was spoiling for a fight. But he didn’t want to fight. Not this time.

He followed slowly behind as she walked toward the stables, studying the property on auto-pilot. Assessing was something that was second nature to him, even if now it didn’t seem right. When he’d pulled into the yard he’d only had time for a quick look round, taking in the tidy but tired air of the place, the look that said it would cost a fortune to update. He grimaced; there was a good-sized house, which he was sure would be in a state, but there were plenty of people around with money who wanted the genuine article, a country estate. Chic, not shabby. The riding stables didn’t have much going for it as a business proposition, but the property, the land, did. Which was why he’d bought it. At a knockdown price that he’d thought had meant he couldn’t go wrong.

His gaze drifted back to the pert bum and he had a horrible feeling that something, or someone, was about to screw up his plans.

Available from - Xcite Books,  Amazon (UK),  Amazon (US)

About the author

Zara is a writer and lover of all things romantic, from the sensual to the sexual, who knows that naughty can be nice. She lives in the UK, but whenever she can she heads off in search of some sunshine and inspiration for her stories.

She love sexy high heels...good food....good wine....music...coffee (lots and lots of coffee)... and Italy. All things Italian from the countryside to the culture, the wine to the food...and of course the sexy men.

She's been a consultant, a teacher, a mother, a wife, a lover... and has always been a writer and she'd love to hear from you.

Where you can find her-

Blog: http://zarastoneley.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter:  @ZaraStoneley

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ZaraStoneley

Email – zarastoneley@gmail.com

Deadlines....

Apologies for absence of blog posts but I am frantically trying to complete a writing deadline....there will be an exciting guest post later this week from Zara Stoneley and then posts should return to a kind of normality....