Monday, March 3, 2014

Promo Giveaway - Salvage Her Heart by Shelly Pratt

Check out Salvage Her Heart by Shelly Pratt. This book reminded me of a darker version of the Julia Roberts movie Sleeping With The Enemy.  Don't forget to read an excerpt and enter the giveaway below.


Title: Salvage Her Heart
Author: Shelly Pratt
Release Date: February 17, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis
This is a contemporary/erotic adult romance. It has darker themes, non-consensual sex, BDSM themes
and adult sex scenes.

Evie is living a life with a man who she no longer knows.

He’s taken every single aspect of their love and turned it into a dirty, sordid mess that she can’t escape.

His controlling, arrogant manner cares for no one, not even her. The only problem is, if she were to try
and leave he’d just as soon kill her.

Life seems an interminable hell that she can’t escape, but all that changes the day she meets Grayson
Glines.

He’s the kind of man that might be able to give her a second chance, but Evie wonders at what cost to
both of them will she be free of her husband’s dark clutches.



Buy Links
Amazon US - http://amzn.com/B00IIF4HQ2

Amazon UK - http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00IIF4HQ2



About The Author
Shelly Pratt is an Amazon, word-of-mouth, bestselling, self-published author who is also traditionally

published with Pegasus under the Vanguard imprint in the UK, and, with a small publishing house in the

United States of America.

Only starting her writing career in 2012, she has achieved exceptional reception selling e-books in the

USA, publishing over seven books, all in different genres.

Shelly lives with her husband, two children and Labrador Scooby Doo in northern New South Wales in

Australia. Snow skiing is her other passion.


Prologue
**Please note – the following is unedited and remains subject to change. Worldwide 

copyright laws are observed.**

If women tell you they don’t like power, they’re fucking lying. They do like it, and do you know how I

know this? They’ve all become a little too obsessed with books and movies that make masochistic males

out to be the good guys. So as I tell you my side of the story, remember, I’m the good guy. Well, at the

very least, I’m good-looking.

People say I’m arrogant and rude, which is laughable when that is what has drawn them to me in the

first place. I would prefer to think of myself as a confident, self-assured man who knows what he wants.

And I most definitely knew what I wanted when it came to Evie.

That girl wasn’t like the others, which is probably why I took the whole game to another level and had to

put a ring on her finger. I wanted her as my property. She needed to be mine to do what I wanted with;

mine to control. She was a challenge. Even now I can see it in her eyes as she’s gagging on my cock. Now

don’t go and get all soft on me. You think she really doesn’t want this? Bullshit. She’s a great actress,

the theatrics all being part of the game. It makes it more exciting for me and her if she puts up a little

resistance.

Do you know what I like best about Evie? Her mouth. She’s got these luscious lips that are full and

plump. I’m preferable to her painting them with a red glossy lipstick because it gets me off to see the

bright stain around my cock as she gives me head. Like the clothes she wears and the way she acts, I

control everything down to her make-up. I have her wear the kind of make-up that I’m preferable to.

Don’t judge. I told you, I like control.

It’s been a long day. I’ve had conferences with clients and dinner with business partners. We’ve only

just returned to our apartment in the city but my night is far from over. There will always be more work,

it’s the nature of the beast. I didn’t get to being CEO of my own company by slacking off. Labouring jobs

are for losers. Sure, I had a privileged upbringing and was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my

mouth, but I still believe in good work ethics. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and if I want to continue on my

path of wealth and success then I’m damn well going to put my work before absolutely everything.

First things first, though. Despite the lateness of the evening, I wanted a little release. I wanted those

red lips on my cock, sucking me until my balls cease to ache with lust. I’m not going to stop until I’ve

squirted my seed into her throat and made her swallow the whole damn lot.

Nights like these, I prefer to sit in my leather chair that faces out of the panorama glass windows that

afford views over the Brisbane River. The lights of the Story Bridge twinkle back at me and the water

looks dark, murky and mysterious under the night sky. I bought this apartment as a wedding gift for Evie,

but for the most part I don’t think she likes it. Ungrateful springs to mind, although it could just be the

company. I’m seriously laughing as I tell you that, because to be honest, I don’t give a fuck whether she

likes me or not. She’s mine and that’s all that matters.

While downing my fifth scotch for the evening, I beckon her to me. She says nothing, but she knows

what I want. Forget the elephant in the room; it’s a bit hard to hide my bulging erection that I’ve freed

from my pants. Most people would be worried about getting their four hundred dollar trousers dirty.

Not me. That kind of money is pocket change in my world. Despite her eagerness to oblige me, there is

a reason behind her willing to please. I mean come on, if you haven’t figured it out already you’re not as

smart as I thought you were. Okay, I’ll spell it out for you any way. I get a little rough. Not all the time,

but if you don’t give me what I want, well, let’s just say there are consequences.

‘On your knees’. There was no need for the command, but fuck, I’ve got to say I like the sound of my

own voice. It’s rich, deep, commanding and powerful. It speaks of a man who has always gotten what

he wants. Evie is no exception. I wanted her then and I want her now. She obliges me by sliding to her

knees, her silk stockings making it slippery on the tiles for her. She grabs my knees to steady herself

before leaning forward to take me in her mouth, all the while not making eye contact with me. I let her

get away with it for the minute, but my patience has limits.

Her mouth is hot and wet. It is utter delight as her lips start to move back and forth over my shaft,

messily leaving behind her lipstick as she does. As she goes to work on me, I down the last of my drink

before taking her carefully done braid in my grasp. Evie is definitely in my league as far as looks go. She’s

got long, blonde hair that has never seen the inside of a salon. All the streaks and highlights are from

time spent outdoors. Sometimes she likes to challenge me on my rule of her keeping it natural. I think

her opposing opinions are merely to rile me up so that I put her in her place. Yes, I do think she secretly

likes me smacking her arse. It may belittle her at the time but you can be rest assured it makes her think

twice before raising the subject again. I refuse to have my wife look like some fake, tarted-up bimbo. I

want her looking natural – well, except for the red lippy. The red lipstick stays.

I’m not going to give it up easily. I’m going to make her work for it. Hell, I even zone out for a while,

taking in the city that is my playground. Living and working in a town that is fast becoming a place that

doesn’t sleep is like a drug. The more I immerse myself in it, the more I want to be king of this empire.

Slowly but surely I’m putting other companies out of business. Pretty soon I’m going to have everything I

ever dreamed of.

Evie is sucking greedily now. Not because she’s into it, because she’s not. Oh let’s be honest! She just

wants me to give it up so she can get the job over and done with. I know she doesn’t mind me fucking

her vanilla, but blowjobs have never been her thing. She tried to pull off me once just as I was about

to come. What a mistake. She’s never tried to pull that shit again, although she still gags, the reflex an

unbreakable trait. Like now, for example; even in the darkly lit living room I can see her eyes beginning

to water as my dick swells against the back of her throat. I’m sure she can taste my pre-come – the salty,

bitter fluid already affording her a taste of what’s to come.

I slide a little lower in my leather seat, thrusting just that little bit more inside of her mouth. She tries

to back off, although there’s no escape. Her braid that is wound tightly around my fist is tugged ever so

slightly, a reminder that I have control of her head. I’m close and she knows it. I can feel her reposition

my dick towards the back corner of her mouth where her molars are so she doesn’t have to taste my

semen on her taste buds. If I was any kind of man, which I am, I should be rather insulted by this – which

I am. And when I’m insulted, I’m not very forgiving.

When I come, I come hard. And no, it’s not aimed at the back of her mouth like she’d have liked. Pulling

her hair makes her wince and she loses some of the suction on my shaft, her lips making sucking and

slurping noises as she tries to reposition me back to where she’d like me. Unfortunately for her, she’s

too late. Her perfectly positioned tongue is only lapping at the eye of my cock when I blow in her mouth.

I’ve got to give her credit for her spunk because she does try to pull away. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

My grip on her hair forces her to remain right where she is. I keep her there until I’m licked clean.

Getting a blow job is not as good as fucking her pussy, but it sure comes a close second. I never give her

the satisfaction of pleasurable sounds coming from my mouth, though, because that would be giving her

the green light that she has in some way pleased me. And with the knowledge that she has pleased me

would give her power. Power I don’t want her to have.

There may, or may not be tears in her eyes tonight. They have no effect on me whatsoever. I dismiss

her to bathe before bed while I pour myself a refill of scotch. Twenty-two stories below, people are still

walking the boardwalk that runs along the river’s edge. Some are alone, others huddled together like

love birds. It’s a sentiment I’m not familiar with. My whole life is lived like a business transaction. I know

I like having Evie in my life and I know I like the status of being a married man. But love, well, it’s not for

me.

In the beginning I know Evie foolishly thought that it could be that way between us. Like her parents,

she was lured into the deception I was selling. Trust me when I say, no one sells lies like I do. I showed

them what they wanted to see; revealed the parts of me and my life that would be desirable by a family

like theirs. Each and every one of them fell hook, line and sinker. It’s laughable, really, that one family

could be so gullible. I’m sure over the last three years they’ve all tried to think a way out of the Alex

Stratford contract, but all I can say is, ‘Over my dead body,’ or more likely, over theirs.

©Copyright 2013/2014 Shelly Pratt



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