Tuesday, June 6, 2017

The Farthest Edge (Honey #2) by Kristen Ashley: Release Blitz w/ Excerpt & Giveaway


Blurb:

Step into the Honey Club, where every sensual boundary will be tested in search of the ultimate pleasure…

Branch doesn’t exist. Living off the grid, he’s looking for a way to forget his past and the guilt that plagues him. But no woman has ever been able to bring him to the edge he craves.

After a traumatic experience of her own, Evangeline stepped away from the decadent world of the Honey Club. But when she gets Branch’s offer—to play without boundaries or commitments—it’s too tempting for her to refuse.

As their passion ignites, Evangeline and Branch push each other to their farthest limit, fulfilling their darkest desires while falling harder and deeper than they ever imagined.


Click to Buy The Honey Series on Amazon:

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About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA. She nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorise and she hadn't taken her first breath!).

Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana but has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.

Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).

Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.

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Excerpt:

She drove into the Honey, seeing the parking lot empty except for Aryas’s black Cayenne and a black GMC SUV, feeling that hunger grow.

Right.

Fine.

Fun and done.

All good.

She grabbed the handles of her small bag before she opened the door and threw her leg out.

As instructed (by Aryas), she parked close to and approached the back door to the club.

As expected, it was open.

She moved through the halls, keeping centered and focused so as not to have any kind of freakout that the last time she was there, she’d been carried out by Aryas, beaten to hell and not giving a damn.

Because she might have been beaten to hell.

But the worst of it was, her heart had been broken.

She walked directly to Aryas’s playroom, known as the red room since it was decorated in reds, and the opaque shades that could be drawn down over the wall of windows to black out what was inside were the only shades in any of the rooms that weren’t black, they were red.

As she approached, she saw the red shades were drawn down.

She kept her gait steady.

It had been a year and the last scene she’d had was a bad one. She’d been assaulted at the same time she’d had a relationship end very, very badly with a man she’d thought she’d loved and was considering spending the rest of her life with.

That happened.

A year ago.

This was now.

It was just a look-over anyway. It might be she wouldn’t like what she saw. Or he wouldn’t. And then giving any headspace to worrying what came after that was just a waste.

She was a Domme.

She’d trained under Mistress Sixx and Mistress Amélie, the two finest Dommes Evangeline had ever had the honor to see at play.

And before Kevin, even if she’d only been in her late twenties, she was one of the most sought-after Dommes at the Honey.

Now she was just thirty years old and she made good money. She took care of herself. She was successful. Educated. She wasn’t hard to look at. She had her own style in looks, clothes (and play) that she was honing to perfection.

She could do this.

She totally could do this.

She opened the door, stepped in and saw him.

Oh my.

She was so totally going to do this.
She closed the door behind her, dropped her bag and stood right where she was.

Aryas’s red room, known as his because this was mostly where he took his slaves, looked more like an opulent boudoir. Plush. Sumptuous. Heavy, carved furniture. Big, posted bed dressed in red and topped at headboard and ceiling with mirrors. Candelabrums everywhere.

No candles had been lit right then. The scene was not set, only red-shaded table lamps here and there were illuminating the space.

It still gave it a feel.

And that feel was good.

But more, the man before her was amazing.

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