About The Book
His Tempting Love by Anya Summer
Book 5: Cuffs and Spurs Series
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Publication Date: October 15, 2018
Format: Kindle - 1477 KB / 250 pages
Nook - 515 KB
ASIN: B07HYT1GVQ
BNID: 2940161571149
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Buy The Book:
Buy The Series: Cuffs and Spurs Series
Book 1: His Scandalous Love
Book 2: His Unexpected Love
Book 3: His Wicked Love
Book 4: His Untamed Love
Book 5: His Tempting Love
Book Description:
Cora Roberts has a plan: move to a new town and make a better life for herself and her son. As a single mom, she’s not looking for a relationship of any kind. But then she never expected to have the sexy Garrett offer her a night of uninhibited pleasure with no strings attached.
Garrett Brooks never expected Cora’s surrender to his touch to be so sweet – or tempt him to want more than just a single night with her. But as he pursues a deeper relationship with Cora, a threat from his past emerges.
Will Garrett be able to tempt Cora with his love, or will outside forces tear them apart?
The Cuff & Spurs Night Club was just your everyday, average, ordinary club—with kinky hot sex tossed in.
The members’ only club was decorated with a cowboy motif, pretty much like almost every other establishment in Jackson Hole. Not that Cora Roberts was complaining; she found the flair for Western-themed décor was part of this town’s charm.
Cuffs & Spurs was the only business she was aware of in town that was located and operated below ground. Then again, it was a private establishment and the general population was not permitted to enter. For all she knew the stores along the main drive could all have secret basements with operating businesses in them.
Up the stairs on the first floor was the Teton Cowboy Bar & Grill. The popular restaurant for tourists and locals alike helped to finance this nightclub. Both places were owned by Spencer Collins, her cousin on her mother’s side and the reason she had lucked into this job.
Spencer had done a lot for Cora upon her moving back to their old stomping ground.
The bar along the far-right wall was a lake of glossy golden wood with brass trim and fixtures. Overhead there were chandeliers crafted like wagon wheels, hung horizontally with glass cylinders on top that resembled the old-style kerosene lanterns. Even the bulbs inside were shaped like flames.
Hard rock music—there was some old-school Rod Stewart currently playing—pumped from hidden speakers in the paneled wooden walls.
The barstools were the most unique feature of the bar; they were saddles, as in going for a trail ride horse saddle. And on each stool there were silver loops in various positions for a Dom to restrain their submissive. Scene areas were cordoned off along the wall opposite the bar with black velvet rope.
There was a seating area with umber brown leather couches the color of dark tree bark and Western style décor tables in complementary colored golden woods. It reminded her of a gentleman’s study, all masculine in design with a splice of Western flair. The constant hum of conversation was overshadowed by the slap of flesh and moans.
Cora didn’t mind the bump and grind action taking place in the scene areas, the small alcoves partitioned off with thick black velvet rope. Inside the separated areas was dungeon sex style furniture designed with the kinkster in mind, which attendees used to live out their sexual fantasies. And not just any kind of sex, this was the ‘tie me up, tie me down’ style of action. The fact that this club catered to those in the BDSM lifestyle was a minor trifling issue in the scheme of it all. Whips, chains, copious amounts of flesh on display, and dungeon sex furniture didn’t make Cora blush or embarrassed. Nor did witnessing the myriad number of blow jobs and all manner of raunchy sex, not when her tips waiting tables were more than she would make anywhere else in this town. A job was a job. And she needed the cash. Who cared if she had to address the guys as Sir? For the money she was making, she’d call them whatever the hell they wanted her to.
Then there was the added bonus of the sheer amount of masculine eye candy on display. For Cora, it was as if she had stepped into a fantasy. Like the rugged outdoors of Jackson Hole, Wyoming had imbued the male club members with an extra dollop of testosterone the size of one of the nearby mountains. They were men who exuded control, masters of the world around them, including the women who were lucky enough to catch their eye. If the blissed-out expressions on the submissives’ faces were any indication, a woman could do worse than hooking up with the tough-as-nails manly men at the club.
The members’ only club was decorated with a cowboy motif, pretty much like almost every other establishment in Jackson Hole. Not that Cora Roberts was complaining; she found the flair for Western-themed décor was part of this town’s charm.
Cuffs & Spurs was the only business she was aware of in town that was located and operated below ground. Then again, it was a private establishment and the general population was not permitted to enter. For all she knew the stores along the main drive could all have secret basements with operating businesses in them.
Up the stairs on the first floor was the Teton Cowboy Bar & Grill. The popular restaurant for tourists and locals alike helped to finance this nightclub. Both places were owned by Spencer Collins, her cousin on her mother’s side and the reason she had lucked into this job.
Spencer had done a lot for Cora upon her moving back to their old stomping ground.
The bar along the far-right wall was a lake of glossy golden wood with brass trim and fixtures. Overhead there were chandeliers crafted like wagon wheels, hung horizontally with glass cylinders on top that resembled the old-style kerosene lanterns. Even the bulbs inside were shaped like flames.
Hard rock music—there was some old-school Rod Stewart currently playing—pumped from hidden speakers in the paneled wooden walls.
The barstools were the most unique feature of the bar; they were saddles, as in going for a trail ride horse saddle. And on each stool there were silver loops in various positions for a Dom to restrain their submissive. Scene areas were cordoned off along the wall opposite the bar with black velvet rope.
There was a seating area with umber brown leather couches the color of dark tree bark and Western style décor tables in complementary colored golden woods. It reminded her of a gentleman’s study, all masculine in design with a splice of Western flair. The constant hum of conversation was overshadowed by the slap of flesh and moans.
Cora didn’t mind the bump and grind action taking place in the scene areas, the small alcoves partitioned off with thick black velvet rope. Inside the separated areas was dungeon sex style furniture designed with the kinkster in mind, which attendees used to live out their sexual fantasies. And not just any kind of sex, this was the ‘tie me up, tie me down’ style of action. The fact that this club catered to those in the BDSM lifestyle was a minor trifling issue in the scheme of it all. Whips, chains, copious amounts of flesh on display, and dungeon sex furniture didn’t make Cora blush or embarrassed. Nor did witnessing the myriad number of blow jobs and all manner of raunchy sex, not when her tips waiting tables were more than she would make anywhere else in this town. A job was a job. And she needed the cash. Who cared if she had to address the guys as Sir? For the money she was making, she’d call them whatever the hell they wanted her to.
Then there was the added bonus of the sheer amount of masculine eye candy on display. For Cora, it was as if she had stepped into a fantasy. Like the rugged outdoors of Jackson Hole, Wyoming had imbued the male club members with an extra dollop of testosterone the size of one of the nearby mountains. They were men who exuded control, masters of the world around them, including the women who were lucky enough to catch their eye. If the blissed-out expressions on the submissives’ faces were any indication, a woman could do worse than hooking up with the tough-as-nails manly men at the club.
Book Teaser:
About The Author
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya Summers grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
Author Website
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6: Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess
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4: Wendi zwaduk - romance to make your heart race
5: Musings From An Addicted Reader
6: Our Families Adventure
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3: Erotica For All
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5: Stormy Nights Reviewing and Bloggin'
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1: Beyond Romance
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3: Jersey Girl Sizzling Book Reviews
4: Kimmi Love
5: Author C.A.Milson
6: Reviews by Crystal
7: B-Gina Review
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