Review/Spotlight: No Excuses, by Nikky Kaye Reply

5 out of 5 Stars

Available For Purchase On:

Amazon

Review:

I have read several of Nikky Kaye’s books and I think this on just might be my favorite book. Awesome read. This one to me feels a little different in writing style but I really enjoyed it. Gage and Maddie are the perfect main couple along with the secondary characters in this book. While reading about the events they participated in at the retreat all I could think about was, my corporate retreats were never like this. And if they were they would not have been so boring. This is a full length novel that is Hot, Sexy, Eventful, and a Fun read. I highly recommend this book and author.

Reviewed by Epiphany

Our Blog was given this book in exchange for an honest review.

Description:

Maddie’s rules for attending a work retreat:

1 Pack the right clothes. Especially extra underwear.
2 Don’t try to school your insanely hot boss on acceptable trust exercises.
3 Be prepared for the extracurricular ropes course.
4 Make sure there is a safety net when you fall, because you will fall hard

Gage doesn’t appreciate how hard it is to be his right hand woman—especially when I’m spending so much time with my own right hand, fantasizing about him. My demanding, control freak boss is testing all my limits, and I don’t know how long I can stay professional.

No Excuses is a hot, full-length contemporary romance, featuring blindfolds, rope play, food fights, and sexy architectural features like wainscoting. As in all Nikky Kaye books, cheating is not allowed, but some funny stuff and a HEA are non-negotiable.

Excerpt:

When he took my hand, he pressed his open mouth first to my palm, then the pulse point on my wrist. I was sure it was fluttering like a freaking butterfly.
“I want to show you my playroom. It’s important to me.”
Oh god. “Um, okay.” I could do this. I could totally do this.
He led me down the hallway in his little dollhouse. Another time I would have run my hand along the banister at the top of the stairs, its patina velvety with age. Or I would have probably noticed the vintage glass doorknobs at each room. But all I could see was the bright white of his shirt like a truce flag as I trailed behind him.
He stopped us in front of a door at the back of the house, and I hesitated. Actually, we both did. Gage rubbed the back of his neck. The direct, motivated, successful billionaire was nervous—and that made my knees close to knocking together.
“This is probably the most… personal, private part of me,” he explained haltingly, his gaze penetrating me. “Someday I would like very much for you to join me in here.”
Do not hyperventilate, I told myself. You are a mature, sexually active adult with an open mind—and past rope burns to prove it. You just role-played in the office, for god’s sakes. Do not embarrass yourself.
Instinctively, I squeezed my eyes shut as he reached for the knob, and the door creaked open. When I opened my eyes to slits, it was first to look up at the exultant look on Gage’s face. Then I faced the playroom. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until it whooshed out of me.
“Gage, you are sick and wrong. Just no. No.”
“What?”
“How can you have Pac-Man but not Ms. Pac-Man?” I pointed to the array of arcade games lined up against the far wall. “That was clearly the better game!”
“I beg to differ.” With his arms crossed over his chest like that and his jaw looking like it had been set in concrete, there would be no persuading him.
At least he had Mortal Kombat and… was that a Dance Dance Revolution platform? It was covered in Japanese writing.
“Please tell me you have an Xbox.”
“Baby, I have everything.” He pointed to the giant beanbag and large—but not huge—television in one corner. Gage was almost glowing as brightly as the screens on the old consoles. Their sound had been muted, but the lights blinked in the background like dozens of little disco lights.
I wanted to laugh at myself for my idiotic fear. Whips and chains? Come on. I began giggling as I imagined myself bent over and tied to a bubble hockey table.
Boys and their toys. It gave a whole new meaning to “joystick.” At that ridiculous thought I bent over a little, my hands on my thighs, trying to cork up the laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh god, you are.”
He stiffened, probably unused to being seen as a source of comedy. Well, it was past time to change that. Finally I managed to control my giggle fit, which was probably half due to relief.
His annoyance came out in a strange sound from deep in his throat. When I flung my arms around his waist, he felt as though made of steel. I wanted to melt him down in a fiery forge and bend him into sinuous shapes. Cradling his carved jaw in my hands, I pulled him down for a tender, apologetic kiss.
“I would love to play with you, Gage. But you should know that I take no prisoners in Mario Kart.”
He sighed against my lips, multi-tasking while devouring me. “That is one… of… the sexiest… things… I’ve ever… heard… come out… of your mouth.”

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

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Cover Reveal: No Excuses, by Nikky Kaye Reply

Coming July 7, 2017

Add to your Goodreads shelf now – http://bit.ly/2s11oW1

Description:

Maddie’s rules for attending a work retreat:

1 Pack the right clothes. Especially extra underwear.
2 Don’t try to school your insanely hot boss on acceptable trust exercises.
3 Be prepared for the extracurricular ropes course.
4 Make sure there is a safety net when you fall, because you will fall hard

Gage doesn’t appreciate how hard it is to be his right hand woman—especially when I’m spending so much time with my own right hand, fantasizing about him. My demanding, control freak boss is testing all my limits, and I don’t know how long I can stay professional.
No Excuses is a hot, full-length contemporary romance, featuring blindfolds, rope play, food fights, and sexy architectural features like wainscoting. As in all Nikky Kaye books, cheating is not allowed, but some funny stuff and a HEA are non-negotiable.

 

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.
Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon

Review: The Sin Bin, by Nikky Kaye Reply

4 out of 5 Stars

Available For Purchase On:

Amazon

Review:

The Sin Bin is a quick, fun, sexy read. I really enjoyed this novella. The chemistry between Beckett and Lucy is hot and steamy. The interesting part is Lucy is not a hockey fan and has no idea who Beckett is when she meets him. This book grabbed me and pulled me in from the beginning, and did not let go until the end. I recommend this book to everyone even if you are not a fan of Sports Romance you will enjoy this book.

Reviewed by Epiphany

Our Blog was given this book in exchange for an honest review.

Description:

BECKETT
Lucy Solomon showed up to watch a hockey game in a luxury box wearing jeans and a hoodie, and she didn’t give a puck who I was. Now the hotter it gets between us the better my team does on the ice, and I’m getting superstitious. I’m not skating around my feelings–I want to win the playoffs, and I want Lucy. But something’s gotta give.

LUCY
After being in a grad school cave for two years, it made sense that I’d be drawn to a caveman. I melted for Beckett Hallstrom’s brazen moves and boyish charm when we first met, but things exploded when I found out who he really was. Beck wants me to be his good luck charm, but the press is relentless and now my career is in jeopardy. Every competition has a loser and I’m afraid it’s going to be me losing my heart.

Excerpt:

Someone knocked on the door. We froze, breathing heavily and entwined together like a Rodin sculpture. It was too dark for me to see the expression on Beckett’s face when he called out casually, “Yeah?”
“I have that jersey for you, Mister Hallstrom,” a man said quietly. Discreetly.
Awkwardly, Beck removed his hands from every part of my body and turned to the door. He cracked it open, the outside light and sound slicing into the tiny room but thankfully I remained out of sight.
“We’re three up now,” I heard. “End of the second.”
“Shit, three? Okay, thanks.” Beck took a plastic bag from the guy. Then he leaned back against the closed door and reached out with one arm to flick the light back on.
At my position on the counter, the light was bright above my head. I squinted reflexively. And then when I realized how I probably looked, I wanted to turn off the lights and screw my eyes shut again. Oh my god, how embarrassing.
My legs were spread, my jeans gaping open and pushed down on my hips. I was practically sitting in the sink on top of his bespoke suit jacket, but at least my butt hadn’t turned on the water. Yet. My breasts quivered over the shelf bra of my athletic tank top, the tips still wet from his mouth. I was a slutty mess.
But Beck looked at me like I was the Stanley Cup turned into a chocolate fountain.
Without taking his eyes off me, he raised his right hand to his mouth and licked his first two fingers. If he were a metaphor, there would be canary feathers sticking out of his mouth.
“I, uh, just want you to know that this is not normal behavior for me, Beckett Hallstrom,” I said shakily. Understatement of the year.
I couldn’t help it. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t be there. But he was there, all right. I heard the rustle of the plastic and the stretchy snick of him ripping off the price tag. And his rough chuckle.
“It’s not exactly routine for me either, Lucy…” He trailed off as we both realized he didn’t know my last name. My embarrassment graduated to humiliation, and my eyes flew open as he pulled me off the sink. “Careful, there.”
With surprising gentleness he tucked me back in and zipped me back up, before slipping a jersey over my head. The guy he’d sent had actually found one for the opposing team, which I suspected was hard to find in the home team’s store. It was big on me, but so was Beck.
“Solomon. Lucy Solomon.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucy Solomon.”
His mouth quirked as he pulled my hair out from under the collar of the jersey, like he’d done earlier with his jacket. This time, though, he wound my hair around his wrist and tugged my head back to expose my neck. He pressed his mouth to my thumping pulse, nipping softly.
I sighed. “The pleasure was all mine.”
He stepped back, adjusting his slacks with a wince and shoving half his shirt back into his waistband. “I wish my name was on your back,” he said.
“You used to play?”
He nearly bent in half with mirth. “Oh, Jesus.” He laughed so hard and so long that I wished I knew the punch line. If he didn’t stop soon, he would be the punch line.
“Ahem?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Outside I heard the distinct sounds of another goal for the home team. Not Andy’s team. Not Beck’s team. We both looked to the door. How long had we been in here, anyhow?
I blinked at him. He reached behind me and plucked his wrinkled suit jacket out of the sink. Now that I was extra embarrassed about. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Casualty of war. We should…”
“Yeah, we should. I’m sure people are waiting for you.” I tugged the jersey down over my thighs. It was big enough for me to wear it as a dress. Maybe next time.
He traced my lips with his broad thumb, pressing his own lips together in an obvious effort not to laugh at me. “You’re fucking adorable, Lucy. You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Should I? I already told you I’m not into hockey.”
In fact, I came from the least athletic family on the planet. It was a shock to my computer programming parents that Andy was even tangentially working in sports. Frankly I was proud that I knew hockey was measured in periods and not quarters. With regards to my knowledge of the sport, the bar was pretty low.
“That is the adorable part that I’m looking forward to fucking.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He smirked. “Let’s say, confident.”
“Cocky.”
“If you want.”
Hmmm. I did want.

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

 

 

 

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Spotlight: The Sin Bin, by Nikky Kaye Reply

Available For Purchase On:

Amazon: http://a.co/gn9BLAD

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35183104-the-sin-bin?ac=1&from_search=true

Description:

BECKETT
Lucy Solomon showed up to watch a hockey game in a luxury box wearing jeans and a hoodie, and she didn’t give a puck who I was. Now the hotter it gets between us the better my team does on the ice, and I’m getting superstitious. I’m not skating around my feelings–I want to win the playoffs, and I want Lucy. But something’s gotta give.

LUCY
After being in a grad school cave for two years, it made sense that I’d be drawn to a caveman. I melted for Beckett Hallstrom’s brazen moves and boyish charm when we first met, but things exploded when I found out who he really was. Beck wants me to be his good luck charm, but the press is relentless and now my career is in jeopardy. Every competition has a loser and I’m afraid it’s going to be me losing my heart.

Teaser:

Excerpt:

“I’m not letting you walk home alone, Lucy.” Which would be true even if I let her get away.
How long would it take for her to crack and admit she wanted me? When she let out a huff of exasperation, I wiped my hand over my mouth to cover my smirk.
“Beckett Hallstrom.” She unfolded her arms and used them to poke me in the chest.
“Ow.”
With her fingers prodding me, I let her push me back to the concrete wall behind us. Her cheeks flooded with color. She narrowed her hazel eyes, which almost looked the same color as her hair in the glow of the streetlight.
“I want to go to your hotel. I want to go up the elevator with you. I want to go into your room, and then I want to get naked. With you. Is that clear?”
I frowned, scratching the side of my head. “So no dessert?”
“I am dessert, you moron! Seriously, how many pucks did you take to the head?”
At that, I lost it. Shit, this girl made me laugh. First she didn’t know who I was, or had the slightest clue about anything hockey-related, and now she was operating without a filter. I fucking loved it. As soon as she saw my expression, she shoved me hard. Or at least she tried—I had nearly a foot and a hundred pounds on her.
“Argh!”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a twist—unless it’s around your ankles.” This time I didn’t bother to hide my grin.
“At this rate, you’ll never see them.”
Before she could roll her eyes, I grabbed her wrists and spun us around, crowding her against the wall. My gaze roamed over her body, but just admiring her wasn’t enough for me. Needing to touch her, I splayed my hands out above her breasts, where her dress framed her upper chest. Gooseflesh broke out against my palms and fingertips as I spread my hands to the sides, seeking out the skinny straps under the shoulders of her little granny sweater.
“Beck…” It was a warning and a plea.
She looked up at me, her mouth a little closer than our previous encounter, thanks to the heels she was wobbling in. Her eyes were wide and dark with want, but also tight with anxiety. I wanted to do whatever I could to relieve her stress.
I heard orgasms were good for that.
“Lucy, just so we’re clear, I am taking you back to my room, where I am going to take that dress off you.”
She nodded. “Then what?” she whispered.
I took a deep breath, tilting my head. “Then, I’m going to see what color your panties are. And to be honest, I haven’t decided what I want to do first—eat your pussy or suck on your gorgeous tits.”
Her gasp surprised me a little. Did she think we were going to play naked board games? Then I realized she wasn’t shocked—she was turned on. As I spoke, my face moved closer to hers but didn’t connect, like opposite magnets. My arousal grew as well, my dick stiff and aching in my slacks. The hotel was only a block or so away, but there had to be a quicker way to get there than just hoofing it.
“Do I get a choice?” she asked.
“Of course.” I straightened, adjusting myself not so discreetly. “You have a choice to come on my cock, my fingers, or in my mouth. The order is up to you. But before tonight is over, I’m going to score that hat trick.”
“Hat trick? Is that some kinky sex thing?” She looked at me suspiciously, clearly ignorant of hockey parlance for scoring three goals in one game.
“You are too fucking cute.”

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon

Cover Reveal: The Sin Bin, by Nikky Kaye Reply

Description:

BECKETT
Lucy Solomon showed up to watch a hockey game in a luxury box wearing jeans and a hoodie, and she didn’t give a puck who I was. Now the hotter it gets between us the better my team does on the ice, and I’m getting superstitious. I’m not skating around my feelings–I want to win the playoffs, and I want Lucy. But something’s gotta give.

LUCY
After being in a grad school cave for two years, it made sense that I’d be drawn to a caveman. I melted for Beckett Hallstrom’s brazen moves and boyish charm when we first met, but things exploded when I found out who he really was. Beck wants me to be his good luck charm, but the press is relentless and now my career is in jeopardy. Every competition has a loser and I’m afraid it’s going to be me losing my heart.

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon

Review: The Naughty Step, by Nikky Kaye Reply

5 out of 5 Stars

Available For Purchase On:

Amazon: http://a.co/7NtTYLm

Review:

I loved this book. This is a fun, sexy, quick read and can be read in one sitting. This the 2nd book in Nikky Kaye’s Billionaire Book Club series and it did not disappoint. The two main character really work well together even tho there was a time or two that I wanted to slap Nathan and hug Zoe. I look forward to the next book in this series. In order to understand what the Billionaire Book Club is you will want to read book books in this series. I highly recommend this book and series.

Reviewed by Epiphany

Our Blog was given this book in exchange for an honest review.

Description:

I didn’t bargain on a roommate, especially not my alluring, naïve little stepsister. She wants to get to know me better, but what she’ll discover could send her screaming in the other direction—or screaming underneath me.

Summer in New York is hot enough without her panties melting, too. I warned her that curiosity killed the cat, but then she reminded me of the rest of that saying—satisfaction brought it back.

Excerpt:

Something soft thumped against the door, followed by a low, masculine laugh. I stomped to the door and swung it open. Zoe almost fell in.
“Whoa!” Her male companion caught her around the waist, and she squeaked as the back of her head hit his shoulder. She wriggled around in his arms and put her finger to her lips.
“Shhhh!”
The bushy-haired guy in skinny jeans met my gaze across the threshold. His reddened eyes—what had the little shit been smoking?—widened. “Whoa,” he repeated.
Zoe dissolved into a fit of giggles. I didn’t think she’d seen me, or she might not have been so mirthful. Her linen dress was wrinkled, her shoes missing and her eyes and cheeks bright. I backed up and moved to the darkened kitchen, not sure I could control myself seeing her like this—loose and tipsy and flirty. When she squealed again, I turned back to see her “friend” had hauled her up bridal style in his arms and carried her through the door.
“Where’s your bed?” he asked her.
Her hand flailed out. “The Den of Iniquity,” she directed, “is that way.”
He began to maneuver around the furniture, stumbling a little under her weight, when I reappeared out of the shadows.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
He stopped in his tracks, then Zoe’s legs nearly took out my floor lamp as he whirled around with her in his arms.
“Putting her to bed.” He managed to look me in the eye and didn’t stutter, but that’s all the credit I was about to give him.
“The fuck you are.” I stalked toward them, my arms outstretched in demand.
Zoe’s head wobbled as she noticed me. “Oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right,” I snapped, eyeing her friend. “Give her to me.”
His hands slipped over her hip as he tried to adjust her, and his grip left a red mark on her bare upper arm. Fury and jealousy bubbled up in me, like a bottle of soda shaken too hard.
I’d been told before that the more I felt, the less I showed on the outside. At that moment, I must have appeared like a fucking robot.
“I’ll just put her—”
“Give. Her. To me.” I couldn’t make it any clearer.
Zoe sighed. “Sorry, Tom. I’m his.”
I startled, blinking in surprise at her simple words. Whatever had been coiling inside my chest suddenly unwound, and I felt like my head had popped off and was bobbing around like a jack in the box.
Tom looked down at her nervously, his arms shaking a little as he righted her to her feet. “Shit, Zoe, you didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”
“Roommate,” I clarified, still trying to recover my equilibrium.
She rolled her eyes while making a flicking motion toward me with her fingers. “’S’my brother,” she mumbled.
And just like that, my bouncing head was shoved back in the box and the lid clamped shut over it. But her words still echoed in my head. “Sorry, I’m his, I’m his, I’m his.”
The relief on Tom’s face vanished, along with his buzz. “Look, man, I’m sorry—” When I met his gaze, it was with the guilty understanding that I knew how he’d been hoping to end the evening, and he knew that I knew.
The blazed hipster looked like he was about to shit his pants at the idea that his date’s big brother was about to kill him.
I reached for Zoe, knowing that if I was holding her then I wouldn’t be able to throw him through my coffee table. I also just needed to touch her, needed her safe in my arms. My hand around her wrist, I tugged her to me. She spun over as though we were on a dance floor, her elbows up and caged by mine as her back pressed against my bare chest.
“Nathan, he’s just a f—”
“Quiet.” I felt the urge to hold up my hand, but both of them were full of her luscious, quivering body. She froze briefly, stiffening in my arms. I stifled a groan, my body reacting in completely predictable but nonetheless inappropriate ways to her nearness.
She wriggled, trying to get out of my hold. My arms tightened, and I pressed my hips forward against the curve of her ass. Her gasp was loud, startling both myself and Tom.
“Nathan,” she stage-whispered, “do you have fireworks in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” She fell into titters at her own joke, while Tom’s wide eyes met mine.
“Uh, I’d better get going…” Tom averted his gaze and made a beeline for the door.
Fuck, who knew what kind of gossip he might spread at her office?
I squeezed my eyes shut, loosening my hold on Zoe. When I was fairly sure she wouldn’t flee or fall, I opened them. Tom opened the door to the hallway.
“Thanks for getting her home safely, man,” I said gruffly. He turned back to nod at me before shutting the door behind him.
Zoe and I were suspended in silence after he left, frozen together in an intimate pose like a Rodin sculpture. Her chest moved up and down with her breath, the line of her collarbone shifting and her neck flexing as she swallowed.
The sweetness of her perfume had faded, mixing with her sweat and possibly tequila. I wanted to lick the salt off her skin, then sip and suck every part of her until I was drunk.
She cleared her throat nervously. “Uh…”
“Bedtime for bad little girls,” I announced. Then I bent down and hauled her over my shoulder in a fireman carry. Hopefully she wouldn’t puke on me.
She poked the back of my thighs in protest. “Nathan! Put me down!”
I silenced her with one swift, sharp smack to her ass. And it felt fucking amazing. My palm tingled, my whole body vibrating with need. She gasped, but stilled and sagged in submission.
Adjusting my hold on her, I ran my hands up the backs of her thighs until she gasped again. Then she moaned. Navigating carefully, I carried her to my bedroom and tossed her on the bed.
“You are in big trouble, missy.”

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon

 

New Release: The Naughty Step, by Nikky Kaye Reply

Available For Purchase On:

Amazon

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34760847-the-naughty-step

Description:

I didn’t bargain on a roommate, especially not my alluring, naïve little stepsister. She wants to get to know me better, but what she’ll discover could send her screaming in the other direction—or screaming underneath me.

Summer in New York is hot enough without her panties melting, too. I warned her that curiosity killed the cat, but then she reminded me of the rest of that saying—satisfaction brought it back.

Excerpt:

Whoa, is this a Murphy bed? That’s so cool!” She reached for the handle and pulled the wardrobe sized casing down.
Fuck! “No, don’t—” I jumped to my feet.
She blinked at the narrow black leather mattress and the array of riding crops, restraints and floggers swinging in the recessed space around it.
“Oh.”
My body burned with a paralyzing combination of irritation and white-hot arousal at the sight of her fondling the dusky leather blooms of my favorite rose flogger. I had to give her credit, though. No matter how red-faced she was, she still turned and looked me in the eye.
“Mr. Grey?” She lifted an eyebrow.
“You’re hilarious.” I shoved her aside to swiftly close up the play area.
The awkward silence that followed rivaled the one between my father and I after my mother had left—and that one had lasted two years. It wasn’t until she followed me out to the living room that I realized she’d retained the rose flogger.
My gaze followed it as she swished it against her thighs. “Nathan, what—”
I held up my hand, and her mouth snapped shut. Good girl. Silently, I turned over my palm and extended my arm for her to give me the flogger.
Zoe shook her head and pressed her lips together, lazily swirling the toy around in an unpracticed figure eight. Likely she didn’t even realize what she was doing, but my body tautened nonetheless. In the thin pajama pants I wore, my problem would become obvious soon.
“You know, something I didn’t understand about that book, movie, whatever…”
I sighed. Clearly she wasn’t about to relinquish it without a debate. I needed to regain the upper hand—literally.
“What did you not get, Zoe?”
Holding the base of the toy in one hand, she wrapped her other hand around the falls and twisted them experimentally. Then she plucked one rose out and held it up. “First, how did that girl manage to graduate from college without having a laptop? Seriously. That’s totally unrealistic.”
I perched on the back of the couch, bemused by the beginning of her rant. This should be interesting.
She added another leather rose to her impromptu bouquet. “Second, did she spend all her money on fancy underwear? In the movies, she’s always taking it off. I did a drinking game while watching it with friends—every time she takes her panties off, we had to drink.”
“And…?”
“And we got wasted.” Her eyes rolled back.
A laugh escaped me. Little sis was adorably naïve. “You’re absolutely right,” I concurred. “What’s the point of wearing it at all?”
She pointed the flogger at me. “Exactly! And how did she not get a UTI from all that sexing? And please, he’s a billionaire?” She snorted. “He’s not even thirty!”
I snatched the toy out of her hand, making her jump. “Zoe, I’m a billionaire, and I’m only thirty-two.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “Really?” she squeaked. She shook her hand, her palm probably burning from the swift way I pulled the leather across her palm.
Oh, little girl. There is so much that I would love to teach you.
I was very aware of her gaze flitting from my face to the flogger swinging from my hand. More and more she was focusing on the latter. Interesting… It got even more so once she included the bulge in my pajama pants in her visual rotation.
I shrugged. “Well, on paper, and if you take the all commercial deals I’ve done into consideration. I’ve definitely moved more than a billion dollars worth of property.”
She blushed, her diatribe apparently at an end. “I’m sorry I, uh, intruded on your privacy. That—” She pointed to the toy. “—is none of my business.”
I hummed, holding out the flogger like a lure. “But you’re curious, aren’t you?” I beckoned her with the toy, the rosebud falls swaying and tickling my forearm. I loved holding it, reveled in swinging it.
“Maybe,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the velvety leather braids. Her eyes were wide, darkening from sky blue to a starry night.
Using the flogger, I reeled her in closer to me. She stumbled, falling between my spread legs. From my perched position on the couch, we were nearly eye level with one another. She was so close I could smell my shampoo in her still damp hair.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” I murmured in warning.
She licked her lips as I idly wound the supple leather around her wrist. “Did you know there’s a second part to that?” she asked.
I tilted my head at her, tightening the bonds around her wrist until she sucked in a shocked breath. “Really? Curiosity killed the cat…”
“But satisfaction brought it back.”
Yeah, I was in trouble.

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

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Cover Reveal: The Naughty Step, by Nikky Kaye Reply

Coming April 10th

Description:

I didn’t bargain on a roommate, especially not my alluring, naïve little stepsister. She wants to get to know me better, but what she’ll discover could send her screaming in the other direction—or screaming underneath me.

Summer in New York is hot enough without her panties melting, too. I warned her that curiosity killed the cat, but then she reminded me of the rest of that saying—satisfaction brought it back.

About The Author:

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon

 

Review: Don’t Think Twice, by Nikky Kaye Reply

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Available For Purchase On:

Amazon: http://a.co/a7QlIfJ

Review:

Oh to be college age again. I loved this book. This is a quick, fun, sexy read with lots of “experiments” between Will and Cassie. The letter “S” and the letter “P” will never mean Salt and Pepper to me ever again thanks to Nikky Kaye. I really enjoyed this read. I Highly Recommend this book.

Reviewed by Epiphany

Our Blog was given this book in exchange for an honest review.

Description:

When friends become lovers, is their relationship screwed?

WILL

Cassie is more than a friend with benefits, and I love helping her overcome her shyness in the bedroom. Now our teaching assistant has his eye on her too and all my primitive instincts are taking over. Maybe I’m being a bit possessive, but what have I got to lose?

CASSIE

I told Will that once should be enough, but he’s determined to make me scream over and over again… I feel truly sexy for the first time in my life, but with a new wager on the line I’d better think twice before falling for my best friend.

This sequel to the sexy new adult romance novella Once Should Be Enough can be read as a standalone–but you might want to sit down (on a towel). If you like your romance hot and fun, then Don’t Think Twice!

Other Books In The Series:

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Available For Purchase On:

Amazon: http://a.co/7SPK8oZ

Description:

When I confessed to my cocky friend Will that I’d never had a happy ending, he bet me a thousand bucks he could give me one. I must be a college outlier, because I think it’s all pretty… meh. Even if the dirty promises he whispers in my ear make me shiver, once should be enough to say “I told you so,” right? Easiest money I’ll ever earn.
But I didn’t know he meant trying everything once, and now he’s raising the stakes…

This hot new adult romance novella has no cliffhangers and only happy endings (more than one), and it also has a sequel, Don’t Think Twice (coming February 2017). Get ready for friends with more benefits than a platinum card!

About The Author:

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In Nikky’s books, head over heels in love is only one position and the HEA is guaranteed.

Sexy, smirking alpha heroes? YES!
Smart, sassy women? YES!
Shame, guilt, cheating? HELL NO!
Feverish, fearless and funny stories? YES YES YES!

If anyone asks, tell them it’s “fuction.” For exclusive content and sneak peeks, sign up at http://www.nikkykaye.com

Interview: Nikky Kaye Reply

Nikky Kaye

I am at the IRC (Indie Romance Convention) in Lebanon, TN. Sitting here with me is Author Nikky Kaye .
Interview:
What genre do you write?
Well, most recently I got back into writing by trying to write erotica, but the characters kept yapping and getting in the way. So then I thought I was writing erotic romance (or maybe romantic erotica, depending on the story). But then the characters kept making people laugh. So now I guess I’m writing erotic romantic comedy? That doesn’t sound quite right—like the pervy reader is getting off on the meet cute (oh yeahhhhh, she tripped over that dog in the park, just like that—oh god oh god oh god, not grass stains on the khakis, aaaaaahhhhh!).
One reader who emailed me inadvertently created a new genre for me with a typo: “fuction.” So there you go—I write funny fuction.

Can you tell readers a little bit about yourself and do you read the same genre as you write?
Oh boy. I started writing romance in the last millennium. I took it very seriously (at least as seriously as one does at age 24), learned lots, networked, somehow snagged a powerhouse agent, had manuscripts requested by editors, etc. Ultimately, my voice was maybe too quirky to fit anything at that time, and moving to a different country for a PhD program kind of derailed my writing. Fast forward 18 years or so—more moves, marriage, kids, etc., and I decided that I wanted to try writing and self-publishing a niche non-fiction book. It was the process of doing that this past spring/summer (2016) that reinvigorated the romance bug. It’s like malaria, I guess. Once you have it, it’s always in your bloodstream.
I like to read stuff similar to what I write, but I have to be careful not to read too much of it when I’m deep into my own work. I’m one of those people that always subconsciously starts mimicking the accent of the person with whom I’m speaking. I never want to do that accidentally in my books with the voice of the author I myself am reading!
Other than romance, I love historical mysteries, non-fiction books about history, cultural studies, things like that. One of the best books I read in the last ten years was a book about the history of taxes. I am not kidding; it was absolutely gripping. I still like to read in my academic area too, even though I’m no longer teaching any college other than the University of Parenthood (our motto is “Do as I say, not as I do”).

What inspired you to write in this particular genre?
I always read it, and what’s more I respected it. By the time I was 9, I was immersed in Little Women, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Laura Ingalls Wilder. In retrospect I suppose I liked reading about women with thoughts of their own. Ultimately, that’s what romance is, or should at least aspire to be.
As a teenager I had a job at the public library, and one of the perks was being able to take out books with no due date. I grabbed every new release that came in from Avon, Harlequin, Berkley… I trolled the used bookstores, and then by the mid-1990s (oh my god, I’m dating myself here) I discovered fan fiction. I never really looked back.
But my writing back in the late 1990s is different from my writing now. I aged and experienced and learned things in that hiatus. Say what you will about a writer’s intrinsic voice—life can and will alter it.
Actually, I’m just too lazy to plot mysteries or research SEF. Does that answer the question?

Where are you from?
I was born and raised in Western Canada, and my husband and I returned to our hometown in 2006 (after I was elsewhere for grad school and he was yet somewhere else for a fellowship). I spent a lot of time in England growing up, and I’ve also lived in Philadelphia, Paris, Oxford, Toronto, and Vancouver.

Is there a character that you enjoyed writing more than any of the others?
I have a real soft spot for Will from Once Should Be Enough. I started that story originally from Cassie’s POV (although her name was Bailey at the time), and really thought that she was my muse. But it turned out that Will was the one driving that bus. I also had a lot of fun with Sarah from Do It Yourself, because I could relate to her on some different levels.

Do you have a special formula for creating characters’ names?
I come up with titles for books first, strangely enough, or perhaps a vague concept. Then I’ll come up with characters’ names to fit the concept of the story.
Once I made a chart with four columns: Book title, Hero’s Name, Heroine’s Name, Possible Lastnames; I’m still working off that a little. I’ll think about names that are classic or different and how they might fit the characters, or check popular baby names in the year they would have been born (or thereabouts). I’ll consider if their parents were traditionalists or more creative types. I’ll mix and match, play with it a little. Some names you associate with certain things, either on a personal or a cultural level.
The heroine in Once Should Be Enough started as Bailey, but it never really worked. The heroine in DIY didn’t have a name until I was done the story. In my current book, the hero has a pretty formal name and is a bit rigid himself. He calls the heroine by her full name instead of her nickname (unlike everyone else). But these things say more about their characters than their names.

Was one of your characters more challenging to write than another?
It’s always challenging. On some visceral level, every character is myself. And yet, each character becomes himself or herself in the course of writing the story. The most elusive to me so far has been Chris from Do It Yourself, because the entire story was from Sarah’s POV. I found that harder to do than I thought it would be.
Chris is getting to narrate a short holiday story that will go exclusively to my mailing list subscribers, however, so he’ll get his chance to speak. J

What is your motto?
Uh, “mottos are for people who can’t come up with their own inspirational words”? Just kidding! As a new parent of premature twins, I had two mottos—“this is all just temporary” and “every day is the new normal.” On some level I still try to remember that. And my husband always tells me “work smarter, not harder.”

What’s your guilty pleasure?
Depends on the day. Yesterday it was Pumpkin Spice Oreos. J I will always eat M&Ms if they’re offered to me. But mostly my biggest guilty pleasure is napping. I flove spending time in bed, and not sexy time. Just me time.

If you could meet anyone, dead or alive, who would it be and why?
For the former, I would love to see my grandparents again. For the latter—I’m still working on getting to know myself, much less anyone else.

Tell us your latest news?
I’m working on a new full-length novel, which I’ve been having a lot of fun with and plan to get out in late December. After that is a sequel to Once Should Be Enough, with a third installment to follow in the New Year. And I’m hoping to have a few other surprises up my sleeve as well.
Oooooh, and I am planning a series for 2017 that I think is going to be really hot and fast and funny. Other than that, I have four other standalone books outlined and a handful of erotic shorts I want to play with. Basically, I’ve scheduled myself until 2019 and yet keep coming up with more ideas. If I could write 10,000 words a day, I would. In fact, I’m trying some strategies to up my daily word count so I can get out a book a month.
I freaking love doing this right now.

Thank you Nikky Kaye for taking the time to answers these questions.

Books by this Author:
Product Details
https://www.amazon.com/Do-Yourself-Starting-Romance-Novella-ebook/dp/B01HXEOI8A/ref=la_B01H2OL2FS_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475308513&sr=1-1
Product Details
https://www.amazon.com/Once-Should-Be-Enough-Romance-ebook/dp/B01HSM1LNC/ref=la_B01H2OL2FS_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475308513&sr=1-2
Product Details
https://www.amazon.com/Seducing-Sydney-Nikky-Kaye-ebook/dp/B01L0CQT6U/ref=la_B01H2OL2FS_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475308513&sr=1-3
Product Details
https://www.amazon.com/Sugar-Twins-Tail-Old-South-ebook/dp/B01LQMZL2W/ref=la_B01H2OL2FS_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475308513&sr=1-4
Product Details
https://www.amazon.com/Professor-Love-Nikky-Kaye-ebook/dp/B01GZ3JU2Y/ref=la_B01H2OL2FS_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475308513&sr=1-5
Product Details
https://www.amazon.com/Once-Should-Be-Enough-Yourself/dp/0995166684/ref=la_B01H2OL2FS_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475308513&sr=1-6
About the Author:
Nikky Kaye is almost the real name of a former professor who decided to take what she learned from working with movie stars and the United Nations to write stories about people who make questionable decisions. In addition, through parenting young twin boys she also has experience with greed, sloth, envy, wrath, and gluttony. She leaves the lust for her books.
For exclusive content and sneak peeks, sign up at http://www.nikkykaye.com