Friday, April 14, 2017

Fire and Ice by Braden Quinn







Fire and Ice
Braden Quinn

Genre: Erotica

Publisher: Beyond the Moon Press

Date of Publication: April 1 2017

ASIN: B06XJR9M4T

Word Count: 16,000

Cover Artist: The Cover Collection

Tagline: Nothing is off limits

Book Description:

Ice by day and fire by night, that’s how I roll. In a crazy existence that’s driven by excessive amounts of money, hot women, and insatiable sexual thirst, I live the life of a rock star. This diary chronicles nine sexual encounters that would have never happened if I wasn’t one of the most well-known players in the best hockey league in the world.

My name is Braden Quinn, and I play for the New York Rangers. So, sit back, and enjoy my erotic memoir.

Excerpt:

 All I really want is a drink—a cold, freshly
opened bottle of Stella, the bubbles rising to the top and into my parched
mouth. As I wait for the bartender, across the room, I glimpse hints of pink
lace as she bends down to retrieve her glass from the floor. When she stands
back up, her micro-mini black dress barely covering the pert curves of her
backside, her baby-blue eyes meet mine, and she grins knowingly. She locks in
my attention as she walks over in her five-inch heels, keeping to the beat of
the Weeknd track pumping from the DJ booth. I am spellbound. I don’t know her
name or where she’s from. I hope she’s of age—even just barely will do.


As she gets
nearer, her smile fades, and she looks to my left. I wonder if I misread the
signals and if she was actually smiling at someone else. But then she stops
just in front of me and turns around. I have no idea what’s going on,
especially when I feel her soft hand touch mine. She runs her deliciously sharp
nails up and down my hand, sending a tickle of excitement through me. I cup her
hand, and she entwines her fingers through mine. I want—need—to feel her back
against me to comfort my throbbing cock. I grab hold of her waist, her hand
still in mine, and firmly pull her closer to me. As her butt presses like a
cushion against me, she grinds a little, the top of her head tickling my chin.
Then, taking me by surprise, she forcefully glides my unresisting hand down
from the small of her lower back—where her straight, shimmering chestnut hair
ends in wisps of loose waves—to her exposed smooth thigh. I forget my need for
beer.

About the Author:

Braden Quinn is a Canadian professional ice hockey player who lives in New York City.





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