Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Bound To Be a Groom virtual tour {Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway}


Sometimes our wildest dreams come true.

In the tumultuous summer of 1808, Spain and England are close to war and four young lovers are close to ecstasy.

To carve out an independent life with the woman she loves, Anna knows she must leave her quiet Spanish convent to become a courtesan. To gain experience, she sets her sights on . . .

Sebastian, whose powerful, aristocratic confidence suits Anna’s mercenary goals. But his arrogance masks a craving for submission that Anna instinctively satisfies. Sebastian soon begs for her hand in marriage, even if it means sharing her with . . .

Pia, who trusts Anna completely—with her body and her future—until she learns of Anna’s hasty marriage. Pia questions their commitment to each other as they leave for London to meet . . .

Farleigh, the seemingly feckless duke who thinks he’s over Sebastian, the potent Spanish soldier he bedded two years ago.

What begins as a series of erotic escapades soon evolves into a deep, unbreakable bond. Two men and two women who yearn to explore are about to make their wildest dreams come true


Bound To Be a Groom is available now through Riptide Publishing.





Megan Mulry writes sexy, stylish, romantic fiction. Her first book, A Royal Pain, was an NPR Best Book of 2012 and USA Today bestseller. Before discovering her passion for romance novels, she worked in magazine publishing and finance. After many years in New York, Boston, London, and Chicago, she now lives with her family in Florida.

Follow Mulry through the following links: 

A note from the author:

I am thrilled to be touring around the blogosphere introducing everyone to my new book Bound to Be a Groom! I loved researching and writing this steamy story and can't wait for readers to get their hands on it. Speaking of hands...while a reviewer was reading an advance copy of the book a few weeks ago, she bemoaned the fact that she had run out of double AA batteries. This led to a hilarious conversation on Twitter about the wide range of sex toys and vibrators at our disposal and my editor, to whom I defer on all things technical, said the Hitachi Magic Wand was the be-all-and-end-all of "personal massagers" (<-that's the technical name, just in case you were wondering). It never runs out of batteries...because it plugs in! So, of course I went online and bought one (which also involved research because there are cheap imitations galore...do not be fooled!). And holy hell! Okay. First of all, it is loud and heavy and enormous...there is no pretending you are just *whistles innocently* hanging out in bed with a good book. It's more like shouting, "OKAY NOW I AM GOING TO PLUG IN THE BROBDINGNAGIAN VIBRATOR AND HAVE AN ORGASM!" Which is also fine. So, yeah, I tried it. Two times. And then I realized it was really an excellent, LITERAL, personal massager. I sit at a desk eight hours a day and have tons of muscle strain in my neck and shoulder. And the Hitachi is AMAZING for that shit. I'm not joking. Give me five minutes on low, right there at the base of my neck...and I'm ready to walk upstairs and have sex with my partner.

So to celebrate this rite of passage (I used a vibrator! Yay!) and save you the trouble of ever running out of AA batteries (You can too! Yay!), I'm giving away (a brand new lol!) official (do not accept cheap imitations!) HITACHI HV250R MAGIC WAND MASSAGER. This priceless (okay, it's about $75) item will go to ONE lucky winner. The 2nd place winner will receive a $10 gift card from Riptide Publishing, and the 3rd place winner can choose any book from my backlist (excluding Bound to be a Groom). Entries close at midnight, Eastern Time, on April 25, and winners will be chosen on April 27. Contest is valid worldwide. Good luck and thanks for being a part of the blog tour!

Excerpt from Bound To Be a Groom:

Badajoz, Spain – June 1808
Anna Redondo was unaccustomed to feeling at a disadvantage. It was not in her nature. She knew she’d been born on the wrong side of the blanket, but that had never prevented her from knowing her own mind. Having spent her first eighteen years within the walls of a convent might have limited her experience, but it had not curtailed her imagination.
And she could imagine all sorts of things with this man.
Regrettably, imagining would only take her so far; she needed to act. Taking a fortifying breath, she turned to face him.
“It’s going to be quite a long afternoon for those two, don’t you think?” she ventured, gesturing toward the bride and groom. Isabella and Javier were walking at the front of the wedding party with the bright morning sun, so particular to this part of southern Spain, glinting off the beautiful silks and polished leather of the aristocratic guests all around them.
“Pardon me?” Sebastian de Montizon asked, clearly surprised at the audacity of a polite young miss speaking to him so directly.
“They look miserable, don’t you think?” Anna mused. She had left the convent in Burgos two weeks ago and traveled to Badajoz in a carriage, chaperoned by one of the older nuns. Apparently, the short time away had already emboldened her.
Sebastian stared down at her as they walked, assessing her through hooded eyes while the clank and clop of horses and regal hardware around them seemed to fade. “I think they look blissfully happy. Whatever do you mean?”
But she suspected he knew what she meant and was only pretending to be confused by the demure front. “Of course they’re happy to be married,” she said brightly, then, in a lower voice, “but now they have to wait and wait until they can be alone . . . on their wedding night . . .”
Over the past week, dignitaries and aristocrats from all parts of Spain and Portugal, and even a few from France and England, had filed into Badajoz. Sebastian had swept into the main hall shortly before supper three days ago, looking like he had spent the past month splitting his time between a bar and a brothel. His dark hair had been too long even by today’s liberal standards, and the scruff of his beard had looked untended. For the wedding, he had reacquainted himself with his valet, and he now looked like many of the other perfectly turned-out aristocrats. But there was still a look of something wild about him.
Anna’s first thought upon seeing him had been that he needed to be taken in hand . . . and that she’d be the one to do it.
“What do you know of wedding nights, little convent girl?” He smiled and stood straighter as he kept walking alongside her through the winding cobbled streets. He clasped his strong hands confidently behind his back, as if he’d assessed her and seen all he needed to see of the little flower.
Perfect. Think of me like that.



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