New Book Spotlight: Lucy Felthouse's Not That Kind of Witch

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Release Blitz: Curve Appeal

 

NEW RELEASE from Lucy Felthouse – Curve Appeal, a standalone contemporary reverse harem/why choose romance! (@cw1985) #reverseharem #whychoose #rh #rhromance #eroticromance #bbw #curvyheroine #rubenesque

Blurb:

An exciting opportunity could solve all Brianna's problems. But will it ultimately create more?

Brianna Denton is a primary school teacher at the end of her tether. Budget cuts, changes in legislation and a pandemic have left her feeling like walking away from the only career she's ever wanted. The trouble is, if she did quit, what would she do next? Living in London is expensive, and keeping on top of her rent and bills while retraining would be nigh-on impossible. An offer to move in with her best friend, Joel Harris, is appreciated, but feels way too much like charity for her liking.

But then Joel throws her a curveball. On a complete whim, he's bought a fixer-upper cottage on a remote Scottish island. He wants to transform it into an uber-luxury holiday home and rent it out. To do that, however, he needs a skilled, reliable workforce and a project manager to keep things running smoothly. A visit to the island in question provides as many questions as answers, but one thing becomes clear - Brianna is the perfect woman for the job. She's smart, organised, works well under duress, and if she can handle a classroom full of young children, surely a bunch of skilled tradesmen won't be a problem. Working and living in such a stunning setting is a massive plus point, too.

Brianna takes a leap of faith, leaving her home and beloved career behind to help turn Joel's dream into a reality. It's a steep learning curve, but Brianna is definitely up for the challenge. But when working relationships develop into something more, will it bring the entire project crashing down around her ears, or is it simply the beginning of a whole new life?

Available from (will be in Kindle Unlimited for 90 days, then be released on all other retailers): https://books2read.com/curveappeal

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/134717777-curve-appeal

Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/curve-appeal-by-lucy-felthouse

*****

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Brianna smiled as she caught sight of Joel, already waiting for her outside the pub. His job as a high-flying London City banker meant he put in some insane hours at work, but he ensured he was always available and on time for their last-Friday-of-the-month meet up at their favourite Thames-side establishment. Not only was it a lovely place, but the location was perfect for them both—it was just far away enough from Joel’s work it was unlikely he’d bump into any colleagues, and close enough to the primary school Brianna taught in that she could tie up any loose ends and scurry the short distance to meet her friend in no time at all. Today she’d had quite a few loose ends, which always seemed to be the way lately, and was a few minutes later than she’d planned, so was scurrying more quickly than usual, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer than necessary.

He hadn’t spotted her yet—he was leaning against the wall, one expensively-shod foot propped up on the bricks behind him, his head tilted up to the early spring sunshine, which even this late in the day was surprisingly strong and picked up the few lighter strands in his dark hair. He’d removed his tie—knowing him, the moment he set foot outside his office building—the end of which poked from the pocket of his black trousers, and rolled up the cuffs of his subtly-patterned shirt to expose most of his forearms. The look was casual, relaxed. Handsome.

In a parallel universe, she and Joel might be a couple, off travelling the world together, or perhaps married and getting ready to settle down and have a couple of kids. Maybe they’d have started early and had the kids already. And a dog.

In this universe, however, they were best friends—had been since their first day of senior school at the tender age of eleven. And while Brianna thought Joel handsome, it was in an impartial, stating a fact way. She wasn’t attracted to him, and it wouldn’t have made a difference if she was, because in this universe, Joel was as gay as they came—a fact she hadn’t realised she’d already known, until at eighteen he’d sat her down, his expression serious, and said he had something to tell her.

Her heart had pounded, and a sick feeling had taken over her stomach. Thoughts started racing through her head—was one of his parents ill? Was he ill? Was he moving away? Unable to cope with the internal onslaught of negativity any longer, she’d said, “For Christ’s sake, Joel, spill the beans, would you? You’re freaking me the fuck out.”

His seriousness had morphed briefly to annoyance, then resignation. He’d taken in and released a deep breath, then, “Bree, I wanted you to be the first to know… I’m gay.”

A sound somewhere between a squeak and a giggle had escaped her lips before she could stop it. She’d clapped her hand over her mouth for a second, then removed it and burst out with “Oh, you idiot!” before landing a playful slap on his arm. “Is that all? I thought you were going to say something bad. That something terrible was going on. Thank God.”

Joel had frowned. “So you… don’t mind?” He’d paused, narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem surprised.”

She’d shaken her head. “Of course I don’t mind. Why the hell would I mind? I’m not a homophobe. If blokes float your boat, so be it. As long as you’re happy, I couldn’t give a toss. And, for the record…” it had been her turn to pause, “I think I’ve known for years.” She nodded as long-forgotten jigsaw pieces began slotting together in her head, then shrugged. “Yeah. I have. Years.”

And now, twenty years later, their friendship had endured—flourished, even. Weathered storms, and basked in sunlight—much as Joel continued to do as she grew closer. Her smile widened, and she was glad she had on flat shoes—not only did it make both her job and the short walk from the school easier, it also meant she had a good chance of creeping up on Joel, maybe scaring the shit out of him as he sunned himself. They might be approaching forty, but when they were together, they often acted as immature and idiotic as they had when they’d first met. Yes, they were getting older, but they sure as shit weren’t growing up.

Respective partners had come and gone, most of them never able to comprehend, much less tolerate, hers and Joel’s unique friendship, but as their jobs, and other friends and family kept them busy and fulfilled, singledom had never particularly concerned either of them. As far as she was concerned, at least, what would be, would be.

She enjoyed the sunshine on her skin as she closed the gap between them, then held her breath as she came within a couple of metres of Joel before flinging herself forward and grabbing onto his nearest finely-muscled arm. “Gotcha!”

He yelped, jumped, snatched his arm away and opened his eyes in a hilarious sequence, then clutched his chest and gave her a good-natured glare, his blue eyes glinting. “Fuck’s sake, Bree! You’re lucky I didn’t swing for you, then. I thought someone was trying to rob me.”

“That’ll teach you to wear ludicrously expensive watches,” she replied with a snicker.

He glanced wryly at his Patek Philippe, then looked back at her with a grin. “Touché. Come on,” he turned around, slipped his arm through hers and led her into the relative gloom of the pub, “for that twattishness, first drink’s on you.”

She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. It was still worth it, though, to see the look of pure panic cross his face. She stifled further giggles, not wanting to inspire her friend to order the most expensive drink he could think of, purely to get his own back. While top of the range watches were easily within his budget, she’d had to save up for a mid-range Fitbit.

A few minutes later, with drinks in hand, they sat down at a table on the terrace overlooking the river and took simultaneous sips of their chosen beverages. Brianna swallowed the mouthful of chilled white wine, then, without meaning to, let out a long, contented sigh.

Joel raised an eyebrow as he swigged his beer, then said, “Sounds as though you needed that. Tough week?”

“Hmm. You could say that.” She fidgeted in her seat, getting the uncomfortable inkling she’d opened a can of worms she’d have preferred was left undisturbed.

“Oh?” His other eyebrow jumped up to join the first. “Do tell.”

She stared out over the river, screwed up her nose and wafted a hand in his vague direction. “No, no, it’s work stuff. Boring, really. Not worth talking about.”

“Bree.” He grabbed her hand, drawing her attention to his face. His expression was earnest, his gaze intense. “Maybe it is boring, but it’s clearly bothering you, so I want to know about it. I’m your best friend, remember? If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

She squeezed his hand, then pulled hers away, picked up her glass and took a gulp. Swallowed, then groaned. There was no putting the lid back on the can—she might as well come out with it. “Oh, all right. It’s just… I don’t know… I think I’m getting a bit fed up of teaching.”

Joel spluttered into his pint, drawing querying glances from a few of the people at tables adjacent to theirs. Ignoring them, Joel put his drink down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gaped at her as though she’d grown a second head. “What? But you… you love teaching!”

Nodding sadly, she replied, “I do. The teaching part. The kids. But the rest; the planning, the admin, the assessing, the being assessed, being micromanaged, dealing with parents, the endless fucking meetings, the meetings about meetings, the meetings that could have been an email… it’s getting on top of me. It wasn’t too bad before—the joy of being in the classroom far outweighed the rest, but since the pandemic, the shambles that is bloody Brexit and the subsequent government fuckery, things have become steadily worse. Rules being changed, goalposts moving, budgets being squeezed, funding getting cut, costs going up. We’re expected to work more and more hours for the same amount of pay, with fewer support staff, yet still uphold the same insanely high standards and have enough energy and spark to engage and teach a class of primary school kids! It’s becoming completely untenable. And the strike action hasn’t exactly been stress free.”

Joel gave her a sympathetic smile. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better. Why haven’t you mentioned this before now?”

She shrugged. “No point. All the decisions are way above my pay grade, so there’s nothing I can do. I’ve just been soldiering on, hoping things will improve. But right now, I honestly can’t see an end in sight. We’re human beings, not robots, and we’re being treated like shit. We’ve come a long way from being lauded as keyworkers, that’s for bloody certain.” She rolled her lips inward, bit down on them, wondering whether she should let the words on the tip of her tongue come out. She’d barely admitted it to herself, much less anyone else. But this was Joel. He’d have her back no matter what she said.

She took a deep breath, huffed it out again, then looked him in the eye. “I’m thinking of jacking it in at the end of term.”

 

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures, Eyes Wide Open, The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, Curve Appeal, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her and her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree 

 

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

New Release Spotlight: Sapphic Seduction

 

NEW RELEASE: Sapphic Seduction Vol 2 by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesbianerotica #erotica #lesfic #eroticromance #shortstories #anthology

 

Blurb:

If you enjoy short, steamy tales of women getting together, then check out this collection from the pen of award-winning author Lucy Felthouse.

From Sapphic fun at the seaside to showing off by the pool, clearing out an old shed to getting the hots for musicians, and even a spot of voyeurism, this book has F/F goodness in spades. There’s something for everyone, and will have you eager to turn just one more page.

Enjoy fifteen titillating tales, over 50,000 words of lesbian lusciousness.

Please note: The stories in this anthology have been previously published.

 

📚Universal link: https://books2read.com/sapphicseductionvol2

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62080394-sapphic-seduction-vol-2

Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/sapphic-seduction-vol-2-a-lesbian-erotica-collection-by-lucy-felthouse

 

*****

Excerpt:

Hardware

Caroline and Della walked up to the shed door, paused, and exchanged a nervous glance.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline straightened her spine and pushed back her shoulders. “Come on, Dell, we’re almost there. This is the last big job we’ve got to do. Then we can move on to the fun stuff. Like decorating and building furniture.”

“I know,” Della replied, eyeing the wooden storage space with distaste, “but it’s also the most terrifying. We haven’t got a clue what’s in there. Could be dead bodies or rotting body parts for all we know.”

Rolling her eyes, Caroline replied, “It is the most terrifying, but you might be letting your imagination run away with you a bit. I don’t think the old boy was a serial killer, somehow. He was ninety, for Christ’s sake!”

“He wasn’t always ninety. He was our age once.”

“True, but if he’d been hiding bodies or body parts in his shed for decades, someone would have noticed. The smell, for starters. And flies. Rats.”

Grimacing, Della said, “Guess we’ll soon find out.”

Caroline twisted the key in the lock, then opened the shed door with a sense of trepidation. Unlike her girlfriend, she wasn’t expecting anything sinister to be lurking in the gloom. More a whole bunch of stuff they wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. They’d bought the property—their first, after renting for years—from the family of the old boy who had recently passed away. None of the family was local, so they’d offered a hefty discount on the house to compensate Caroline and Della for cleaning it out.

It hadn’t been all bad—they’d made a tidy sum from selling some of the stuff they didn’t want; including antique and handmade furniture, collectibles, and a considerable book and DVD collection. The latter, as well as piles of old photographs, which they’d forwarded on to the family, had given them a real insight into Ted’s life and the type of person he was. Which was why Caroline wasn’t worried about finding anything nefarious in the shed. He had been a nice bloke, by all accounts, fond of his family, his friends, and his work. Carpentry had been his vocation, not just his career—hence the handmade furniture they’d sold on. So, Caroline’s common sense was telling her the scariest thing they were likely to find was spiders.

She reached inside to undo the bolts holding the other door closed. After a little wrestling, but not too much, she pulled them free. It seemed old Ted had maintained the shed right up until his declining physical health had made it impossible. It must have driven him crazy to not be able to do all the things he used to. She flung both doors wide to let the light flood in and stood back.

Gazing into the cavernous space, both girls were silent for several long moments. Then Caroline turned to Della with a grin. “Well then, should we get started?”

Wide eyed, Della looked back at her. “Where the hell do we start? What is all this stuff?”

“God knows.” Caroline squinted at the piles of chaos. “Carpentry tools, at a guess. And, er, decorating stuff, and… just stuff. Normal shed stuff, see? Nothing dead or decaying in sight. It’s just a little bit dusty and very untidy. Looks like he was a hoarder. We may as well do what we did with the rest of the house—empty everything out and sort through it as we go. Figure out what we want to keep—if anything—what needs throwing away, and what we might be able to sell.”

“Not sure we’ll get much interest in ‘thingymajigs’ on eBay.” She pointed at a metal contraption with a circular blade. “I mean, what the fuck is that thing?”

Caroline stuck her tongue out at Della and stepped into the shed. “Don’t be so defeatist. Come on! The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish.”

Reluctantly, Della joined her girlfriend. “Okay, let’s get going.”

An hour and a half later, they stopped for a tea break. “Fucking hell,” Caroline said, blowing on the surface of her tea, then taking a sip as she surveyed the three piles—keep, sell, dump—they’d created. “There seems to be a ton of stuff out here, and yet looking in there,” she jerked her head towards the shed, “it looks as though we’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“It’s like the fucking TARDIS in there, isn’t it?” Della replied, shoving at a plastic paint tray with the toe of her shoe.

“Hmm…” Caroline regarded the insanity, then gave a wry smile. “But it’ll be worth it in the end, though. The shed itself seems sturdy enough, so we’ll have plenty of storage space for any tools we keep, plus any gardening paraphernalia we buy…” She tailed off, letting her words sink in. Given they’d only ever rented flats, gardening hadn’t been high on the agenda, and Della had often lamented the lack of having a green space of their own.

Narrowing her eyes, Della took a couple of gulps of her drink. “Yeah… I suppose you’re right. We’ll need a lawnmower, and a strimmer, a spade, a hoe—”

“We’ve already got a ‘ho’,” Caroline quipped, wiggling her eyebrows theatrically and pointing at Della.

“Hey,” Della exclaimed, punching Caroline playfully on the arm. “Bitch. That’s not very nice.”

Chuckling, Caroline shrugged. “What can I say? I’m not very nice.”

“True.”

Smirking at each other over the rims of their mugs, the pair finished their drinks in silence.

“Done?” Della asked, holding out her hand. “I’ll stick these in the kitchen.”

Caroline passed her empty mug to Della. “Thanks. Right, I’m going back in…”

Picking her way across the clear part of the floor, Caroline looked around, wondering what she should tackle next. Just then, she spotted a wooden stool with a coil of rope sitting on top of it.

All thoughts of clearing out the shed flew from her mind as a grin crept onto her face. She had a much better idea.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her and her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree  

 

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Discover Lucy Felthouse's New Book: The Persecution of Wolves

 

OUT NOW—The Persecution of the Wolves by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #paranormal #wolves #werewolves #shifter #thriller

Blurb:

Someone’s got it in for the Adams brothers. But who? And why?

Werewolf brothers Matthew and Isaac have lived in the peaceful village of Eyam, Derbyshire all their lives. The villagers know what they are, and have their reasons for keeping quiet. But this secrecy comes at a cost—the brothers can’t risk romantic entanglements.

Then, at the next full moon, a sheep is slaughtered on Eyam Moor, by what could only be a large animal. Even the brothers’ staunchest supporters begin to have their doubts about who—or what—could have done it.

As the brothers fight to clear their names, things are complicated by unexpected opportunities to indulge their lust. Isaac is intrigued by a handsome newcomer to the village, and a vivacious visitor is happy to offer Matthew her all.

Can the men prove their innocence, or is their centuries-old secret about to be revealed to the outside world, bringing their carefully crafted existence crashing down around their ears?

Please note: This book has been previously published. This version has been re-edited.

Universal Link: http://books2read.com/wolves    

 

*****

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Modern day Eyam

As Matthew and Isaac Adams stepped through the front door to their house, the telephone started ringing. Matthew sighed. “Typical. No rest for the wicked. I’ll answer it—you go and get ready for work.”

Isaac nodded and headed off to do as his brother advised. Matthew, the older of the two, walked up to the ringing phone and snatched it off the hook. Then, remembering the person on the other end of the line would have no idea what a rough night he’d just had, he made the effort to inject some politeness into his tone.

“Hello? Adams residence.” Isaac had told him time and time again the last part about the residence was old fashioned, that people didn’t say that anymore, but Matthew couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hello, Matthew? It’s Richard.” The village vicar’s voice, even though he’d only spoken four words, sounded strained, almost panicked. “You boys just get back?”

“Yes, a moment ago. Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh… I got a call. A dead sheep has been found up on the moor. Not just dead. Mutilated. Like an animal attack.”

An unpleasant feeling wormed its way under Matthew’s skin and his stomach flipped. “Oh?” He paused, then figured he had nothing to gain by not saying the next words he wanted to. “You don’t think it was us?”

The vicar’s gasp was instant, one of genuine surprise. “Lord, no! Absolutely not. I just phoned to let you know and I was wondering if you’d come up there with me and take a look? You and Isaac are probably more qualified than anyone else in the village to tell what did this.”

“Isaac has to work. He just went to get ready. But yes, I’ll come up. I’ll let my brother know where I’m going, then I’ll be straight over. Are you at the rectory?”

“Yes. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Matthew. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Matthew hung up the phone with another sigh. The horrible feeling that had crept under his skin and taken over his gut seemed as if it was there to stay, and it was never a good sign. The vicar’s news was surprising, yes, but he also had an inkling it was going to spell trouble, or at the very least inconvenience for him and his brother.

Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his jangling nerves, Matthew walked upstairs and towards his brother’s bedroom. The door was closed. He knocked. “You decent?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, “close enough.”

Matthew stepped into the room and looked at his brother. He was half-dressed, almost ready for his shift at the doctors’ surgery, where he was a general practitioner. “Sorry to interrupt, mate, but that was Richard on the phone. Someone’s found a mutilated sheep up on the moor, and he’s asked me to go with him to check it out.”

Isaac paused with one arm pushed into his shirtsleeve. “He doesn’t think—”

“No. He was quite adamant about that. He just thought we’d be able to help figure out what did it. I explained you’ve got to go to work, though. I’m going to head across there now and go up with him.”

“I could phone in, let them know I’ll be late.”

Matthew held up his hand. “There’s no need, brother. Relax. Just go to work and help the sick people. I’ll let you know what—if anything—I find out.”

Isaac opened his mouth, then closed it again, apparently having thought better of whatever he was going to say. He continued to dress. “All right, I will. But make sure you let me know what happens. Send me a text or something, and I’ll phone you as soon as I have a gap in between patients.”

Matthew grimaced. He hated texting. Hated mobile phones, actually. Technology was one of the things he disliked most about modern-day life, though it was a necessary evil. It solved as many problems for him and his brother as it created, so he dealt with it as best he could. Fortunately, Isaac had always had an affinity with computers and phones, so he tutored Matthew.

“Yes, all right. I’d better go and find my phone first then, eh?”

Smirking at his brother’s rolled eyes, he left the room and headed for his own bedroom, where he thought he’d left the device the previous night before he and Isaac had headed for the caves. On spotting the mobile phone—which Isaac often made a point of telling him was akin to a brick—he grabbed it, stuffed it into his pocket, and made his way downstairs.

Retrieving his keys from the hook by the front door, he called up to his brother. “I’m going now, Isaac. I’ll see you after my shift at the pub. I’m working until closing time.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me posted.”

“I won’t.” As if he could forget. The dead sheep was going to be a big thing, he just knew it. The vicar might not think he and his brother had anything to do with it, but some of the other villagers might. When there was no proof either way, just his and Isaac’s word, it was understandable, really. Since he and his brother changed into wolves every full moon, it was a natural conclusion to draw. Particularly since wolves had been extinct in England for over five hundred years.

 

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

 

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Book Spotlight- Lucy Felthouse's Good With His Hands

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Release Blitz~ A Werewolf State of Mind by Lucy Felthouse

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