Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Loving Halloween- Guest Blog with Aubrey Irons

Hi, I’m Aubrey Irons, and we’re knee-deep into my favorite season. Yep, I love the Fall, and just about everything about it. Apple cider, crunchy fall leaves, the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg baking into butternut squash, apple cider donuts, hayrides, harvest festivals, the chill in the air, and the gorgeous background of reds and oranges. I’m from New England, and I have to say, we do Fall right.

So, it should also go without saying that my favorite holiday is Halloween. It’s not for the slutty costumes or the candy, although let’s be fair, it’s fun to get a little scandalous, and who doesn’t love free chocolate? But, what I truly love about Halloween is the sense of enchanting (and maybe just a pinch of spooky) wonder that you just can’t help but feel on a perfectly chilly, moonlit night. A big part of it is the nostalgia it brings from being a kid; the sense of adventure in putting on a mask and becoming someone or something else, even just for one night. The giddy excitement of staying up late and running around getting free candy, and the feeling that even though it’s dark, and even a little scary outside, you aren’t scared, because you’re one of the scary ones.

To me, it’s also a holiday that feels the most like a book, because it’s the one day a year where you’re allowed to just escape into your own little world of illusion and charm.

But like most holidays, Halloween tends to lose a little of that magic as you get older. You trade candy for stolen sips of alcohol, tricks for exploratory first kisses, and dressing like Strawberry Shortcake for, well, the whorishly slutty version of poor Strawberry Shortcake. Your parents take over for Santa on Christmas, you stop looking for hidden eggs on Easter, and we generally trade the magic of childhood for the responsibilities and straightforwardness of adult life. At some point, we may even strive to get a little of that magic back, but usually it’s with the easy one’s like Christmas; I mean, how hard is it to get into that holiday cheer when it’s festooned around every store for a month and a half?

Halloween, however, gets left behind; left to exist only in hazy memories that have since been recorded over with sexy costumes, that night at college where things got very interesting after a bottle of peppermint schnapps, and generally just growing up.

Boo to that.

This Halloween, I say take back the enchantment. Go for a hayride, go apple picking, go to that holiday party your slightly younger and slightly more single friends keep asking you to come to, but trade skip the naughty nurse outfit (well, at least save it for later ;) ) for something scary! Carve a damn pumpkin! The point is, it’s never too late to take back a little of that magic that chilly, spooky, moonlit harvest nights used to hold. So go on, go heat up some cider (heck, dump a little rum in it), take a walk through the pumpkin patch, and curl up for a movie with the lights off that’ll keep you up for a week.

And then, of course, go put on that nurse costume and have a little fun ;).

So! What are some ways you can think of to hang on to that spooky Halloween magic?

A Soldiers of Fortune Romance
Aubrey Irons

Genre: Contemporary Romance, Military Romance,
New Adult Romance, Billionaire Romance,
Alpha Male, Bad-Boy

Date of Publication: 8/11/15


Number of pages: 237 (kindle)
Word Count: 58,000

Cover Artist: Aubrey Irons

Book Description:

Five years ago, that cocky, egotistical a**hole played me like a fool and broke my heart.

Hudson Banks; the dominant, tattooed, womanizing, ex-Marine-turned-billionaire who runs God-knows-what at my late father’s company.

Oh, and he’s sexy as all f**k, and he damn well knows it.

He’s like a gasoline fire; a scorchingly hot disaster, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to get burned.

I’m on track to be the youngest New York State Senator ever elected; the bright, gutsy, good-girl media darling. Except my campaign funding just went dry, and it looks like the only solution is coming from the last person on Earth I’d ever want to take anything from. Oh, and it turns out bad-boy, tough-guy Hudson will be shadowing me 24/7 after he makes it clear that he’s in charge of "protecting the investment".

Yeah, just perfect; a reckless, irresistible d*ck like Hudson Banks is the last person I need being “in charge” of anything to do with me.

Especially when I still can’t forget the taste of his lips or the feeling of that massive hardness I know he’s packing between his legs. It’s not fair that he’s even hotter now than he was back then. It’s not fair that those smoldering, arrogant eyes and that cocky, panty-melting grin still make me warm in places they shouldn’t. And it’s definitely not fair that five years later, I still can’t get him out of my head.

So it looks like I’ve got two races on my hands: the one for election, and the one against the burning heat threatening to tear us both apart. But on the sprint to the finish line, what happens when the man who has everything comes up against the one thing he can’t have?

**This is a standalone, HEA novel**

Available at Amazon


My heart is pounding as I slam the door shut to my room. I’m pacing the floor, the blood roaring in my ears and hot across my face as I bring one of my fingers to my lips and chew at the cuticle; a habit I’ve been trying to kick since I was a kid. Shit; I just walked in on Hudson totally naked with those absolutely insane abs, those grooved muscles of his hips and that holy-fucking-shit HUGE cock. I can feel the blush bloom hotter through my face as I think of that particular part of him again; the part that had me staring and frozen like I was under a spell of some kind. It’s the part of him that has me wetter than I’ve ever been as the mental image of it sears itself into my brain.

I’m used to living alone, but I can’t believe I just barged in through a closed bathroom door. And I stayed! Why on earth hadn’t I just turned on my heal and bolted as soon s I’d seen him, instead of staring at him and his- his cock like I was some sort of sex-starved, tongue-tied weirdo! And what was I thinking letting him get that close to me, so close that I actually felt him against my thigh like that.

‘Say the word, Reagan’

My breath comes shaking as the desire floods through me, and I stop pacing to lean my forehead against the door. I have no idea where I possibly found the ability to say no, and as I feel my pulse throbbing in my ears and between my legs, I almost wish I could go back in time and try a different answer.


The knock at my door makes me jump, makes my heart leap into my throat; “Go away, Hudson.” I croak out. It takes every ounce of my control to keep my voice level and not betray the quaver I’m trying so hard to contain; “And learn to lock the damn door!”

I can hear him growl in the hallway; “Will you just open this one and we can ta-“

“There’s nothing to talk about.” My eyes are clenched tightly, my fingers digging into my palms as I chew at my lip, not sure if I want to will him to walk away or break the door down and take me right here and now. I can hear him swear under his breath on the other side of the door and then I jump at the sound of a palm slamming flat against the doorframe.

“Damnit, Reagan, open-“

“There’s nothing to talk about, Hudson.” I saw quietly; “Just lock the door next time.”

Please don’t ask me to open this door again or I know I will, I think, chewing at my lip with my eyes closed tight. I’m so close to the edge that I know if he asks me again there’s no way I’ll be able to say no. I clench my eyes closed even tighter, feeling my body shiver with desire and feeling the heat pulsing between my legs. Please, ask me-

The door to the guest room slamming shut down the hallway makes me jump, and I let my breath out suddenly, realizing I’ve been holding it. I count to three, and then ten, and then fifty before I open my door. I poke my head out to see that the hallways is clear, before I slip out and pad barefoot to the bathroom.

It’s still steamy in here from him, though I guess he never got a chance to take a shower before I barged in. There’s a bottle of aftershave lying on the sink next to a razor, and before I can stop myself, I’m holding the bottle to my nose and smelling his scent; letting it fill my senses as the steam of the room swirls around me. His aftershave hasn’t changed, and the smell instantly has me back there, back where we came so close. His hands are on me again, pushing me against the stone behind us as he kisses me; his hardness pressing hotly against my thigh through his pants.

I blush crimson, knowing that as of seven minutes ago, I know exactly what that hardness looks like.

I shake my head to clear it as I reach to turn on the water, trying to shake him out of my thoughts. The aftershave hasn’t changed, and as much as I want to think the man who wears it has with this whole new sober, healthy, helpful and positive Hudson, I know it’s just a new facade. People don’t change, not like that.

But when I step under the hot spray of the water, he’s still in my head; all of him. And as much as I want him gone from my thoughts, as the water teases electrically over my skin, the vivid image of his rock-hard body and his big cock standing a foot away from where I stand now invade every corner of my brain. I’m wet; far wetter than I’d be just from standing under a shower head, and before I can stop it, I’m pushing my hands down over my hips and over my stomach, and sliding them lower. My fingers roll over my aching clit, making me gasp quietly as I lean my forehead against the tile wall. A moan as soft as the steam rising around me escapes my lips as I rub myself there, picturing Hudson standing hot and ripped and naked right in front of me, so close that I can feel the heat from his body, and then closer still as I feel the throbbing heat of his erection press against my thigh. I picture myself letting him go further then, instead of pushing him away like I did. His mouth is on mine, sliding down to suck one of my nipples into his mouth before he slides lower still until he’s sliding his tongue deep into my wetness as I buck against his mouth. I moan again, louder this time as I slide a finger over my entrance and push it inside. I’m squeezing my eyes shut tight, already feeling myself start to tumble as I rock my hips to grind my clit against the palm of my hand as I picture Hudson wrapping my legs around his muscled waist and sliding that big, hard-

The bathroom door slams open; “Is my toothbrush-“

“Hudson!” But its not a cry of anger or shock, or even surprise; its me crying out his name as I come. And gasping out his name as my body begins to shatter pushes me tumbling over that sweet edge as my climax explodes through me.

“I- uh-“ His voice is choked, and as I look up through the semi-frosted clear shower curtain, I see him staring at me as he backs out of the room; “Sorry.”

The door shuts, and I slump against the wall, feeling like I want to turn to liquid and let the water pelting down on top of me carry me right down the drain along with it.

It’s a frosted shower curtain, so- no, there’s no way-

The water and the steam swirl around me as I slide to my knees in the tub and curl my legs up to my chin as I rock myself. He couldn’t have; God he couldn't have.

About the Author:

Aubrey Irons enjoys writing about bold, sassy, and intelligent women and the hot, cocky, and quite typically forbidden alpha males who love and lust for them; gripping stories, happy endings, and enough heat to keep things extra steamy!

In the real world, Aubrey is kept plenty entertained by her own tattooed Marine husband, their precocious and adorable three year old, and one very ill-behaved puppy.

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