Be My Guest On Tuesday: Samantha MacLeod and The Trickster Lover for only .99cents

Hello, readers, authors, and fans! I hope you have had good holidays and that you look forward to meeting the three authors I have prepared for you on Tuesday. In case you have missed the guests from my previous Tuesdays now it is the right time to catch up. Meet young and promising erotica author L.M. Mountford, the humorous erotica of Lorraine Carey and Becky Robbins, as well as the thrilling BDSM poetry and short stories of HL37. My first guest this week is Samantha Macleod, another erotica author strongly inspired by the Norse mythology and history. Unlike Felicity Brandon and her Viking’s Conquest Samantha’s novel is a contemporary and paranormal adventure. Only this week you can get it for the discount price of .99 cents so don’t miss it.

Blurb:

Graduate student Caroline Capello has always been more comfortable with books than people. She’s just moved to the University of Chicago to become the world’s foremost authority on Norse mythology, making her the only member of her family to leave San Diego, and the family business.

But she’s wondering if she’s just made the biggest mistake of her life.

When Loki, the enigmatic and irresistibly sexy Norse trickster god, appears in her studio apartment, Caroline is forced to question everything she’s learned.

Do the gods exist? Are the legends about Ragnarök, the apocalyptic battle that destroys the gods and ends the Nine Realms, actually true?

Or is she losing her mind?

EXCERPT

When I opened my eyes we were back in my apartment. There were snowflakes in Loki’s hair, melting in the warmth.
“Nice to see you again, Loki of the Ӕsir,” I said, breathless.
“Likewise,” he said, and then his hands were in my hair, and his lips were on my neck.
He pushed open my jacket, running his hands along my waist and up my back. My body came alive under his touch. My nipples pushed against my bra, and my hips rocked into his. I moaned when we pulled apart and then yanked off my jacket, fumbling to pull my shirt and bra over my head. Then I wrapped my arms around his hips and stepped backward, pulling him to the futon.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re in quite a rush,” he said.
I laughed. It was so damn good to see him again, to feel his body against mine, to taste the salt of his lips. “I thought – ” I said, and then I stopped, not entirely certain what I was going to say. I thought I’d never see you again.
I thought I was psychotic.
“Just kiss me,” I said, pulling him down to the futon.
He smiled as he climbed on top of me, straddling my hips, wrapping his hands around my wrists and pinning me to the mattress. He pushed his lips against mine and kissed me, deeply, for a long time, our mouths locked together, his body pressed on top of mine, my nipples hard against his cool leather armor. Then he started to move his hips above me, and I moaned, straining against him. He bent to run his cool tongue along my neck. I cried out, arching my back against his body. He did not release my wrists.
“What do you want?” he growled, his hips undulating on top of mine, his teeth tracing the curve of my collarbone.
“I want you,” I gasped, lifting my hips to meet his.
He leaned back, releasing my wrists, and stood above me. My hands fumbled with the button on my jeans, ripped the zipper apart, pushed them down over my thighs and to the floor. Loki crawled over me again, laughing low in his throat.
“What do you want, mortal woman?” he whispered, his voice thick, his cool fingers tracing my inner thigh.
“You,” I growled, reaching for his neck, pulling his lips to mine.
He kissed me, hard and deep, and then he laughed again, pulling my legs apart and thrusting inside me. It happened so quickly I cried out. And then he leaned over me again, grabbing my wrists, pinning me once more to the mattress. He lowered his head to my chest, his cool tongue circling my breasts, sucking on my nipples. I moaned, arching my back against him, pushing my hips against his, driving my head back into the mattress.
There was a crack like an explosion, and the mattress dropped from under my head. We just broke the bed, I thought, dimly.
Loki sat up, releasing my wrists. “Are you – ”
I grabbed his hips. “Don’t stop!” I cried.
He leaned over me again, his breath fast and shallow. His hips moved against mine, and I wrapped my legs around his, pulling him into me. I arched my back to meet his rhythm, my hands grasping at the sheets.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I moaned as the room began to spin.
He did not stop. I closed my eyes as my orgasm crashed over me, and I cried his name as ecstasy filled my body, obliterating thought.
I collapsed against the mattress as my orgasm ebbed, and I opened my eyes to see Loki above me, panting. He gave me a wicked smile, and then he started to move his hips against mine. I was so sensitive I flinched as he rubbed against me.
“Ohhhhh,” I moaned and writhed under him, trying to turn my hips. “Loki, I just – I can’t again – ”
He stopped my words with his lips, kissing me hard, his hungry mouth pressed to mine as his hips circled, slowly and delicately, against me.
He pulled back and brought his lips to my neck. “I’m not done with you,” he growled.
I gasped as his hips pushed into me, the pressure and movement somehow starting to feel… good. Really good. My body flushed with heat, again, as he moved inside me, his breath shallow. In the pale snow-filtered light I could see sweat beading on his forehead. My hips began to rock with his, my body rising and falling against him. I moaned again, reaching for him, grabbing his thighs.
“Don’t – stop -” I panted, and then my body began to tremble and I could no longer speak.
He laughed as his body danced with mine, first slowly and then faster and faster, until we were crashing together, and I moaned and trembled beneath him, beyond speaking, beyond thought, filled only with his smell, his touch, the heat and fire of woodsmoke and salt. My eyes closed and my head tilted back as I came again, flooding with pleasure, every muscle in my body firing. Above me, Loki stopped holding back; his hips slammed into mine, and I heard the sound of splintering wood as he cried out.
Then I felt the weight of his body on top of mine, heard his ragged breathing against my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, shaking, until the room stopped spinning.
“Mortal woman,” he panted, slowly, “I believe we have destroyed your bed.”

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SAMANTHA MACLEOD

Samantha MacLeod has lived in every time zone in the US, and London. She has an M.A. from the University of Chicago; yes, it really is where fun comes to die.

Samantha lives with her husband and two small children along the Niagara River just outside Buffalo, New York. When she’s not shoveling snow or writing steamy sex scenes, Samantha can be found teaching college composition and philosophy to undergraduates who have no idea she leads a double life as an erotica author.

I hope you enjoyed Samantha’s spotlight. Stay tuned and come back in the afternoon when I’ll meet you with another paranormal story by romance author Tori Dean.