Book Title: Needing You
Author: AC Arthur
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: October 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
He’s a man that doesn’t need anything… Jackson Carrington is no stranger to success. The CEO of Carrington Enterprises has everything: money, power, respect, and a VIP membership to an elite national sex club called The Corporation. It is there that he meets a mysterious and intriguing woman who disappears before he can get to know her better. Imagine his surprise when a year later his mystery woman shows up at his office, bringing with her long, passionate nights and deadly secrets. …except her. Tara Sullivan is living a lie, one that was inbred in her from birth. When her unconventional sex life lands her in a witness protection program with a professional hit out on her life, she thinks maybe it’s time to change. Only change doesn’t come easy when murder, obsession…and Jackson Carrington are involved.
Artist C. Arthur was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland where she currently resides with her husband and three children. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school and she hasn’t stopped since. Working in the legal field for more than twenty years now she’s seen lots of horrific things and longs for the safe haven reading a romance novel brings. Her debut novel Object of His Desire was written when a picture of an Italian villa sparked the idea of an African-American/Italian hero. To date, Artist has written in several genres including, young adult paranormal (written as Artist Arthur, http://www.artistarthurbooks.com), erotic romance as Sapphire Blue, a sensual contemporary romance following the loves and life of The Donovan Family, and most recently a sexy paranormal series titled The Shadow Shifters, both written as A.C. Arthur (www.acarthur.net). Determined to bring a new edge to romance, Artist continues to develop intriguing plots, sensual love scenes, racy characters and fresh dialogue—thus keeping the readers on their toes! Artist loves to hear from her readers and can be reached through her contact form or via email at acarthur22 @ yahoo.com (without spaces).
One Year Ago I love to watch. Yes, it’s a little perverted and for this intolerable sin I’m probably two steps closer to my own personal room in Hell. Still it’s a part of me, a full three lines in my daily itinerary. WATCH JANA GETTING SCREWED. That’s what’s scribbled in Monday evening’s slot in big bold letters beneath have dinner and feed Vicious. Unlike some others I’ve heard of, I don’t watch for the thrill of being seen or getting caught. For me, it’s totally different. I don’t want to be caught or seen. I don’t want anyone to know—especially my mother—that I enjoy sex. Well, I enjoy watching others have sex. I was taught that sex was bad, that kissing, intimate touching, and its cohorts were evil. A sin in the face of God for which I could never repent. At 28 years old, living on my own and working as a high school guidance counselor, you’d think I’d be over the sin and repent thing. Or at the very least that I’d have a better understanding of the whole philosophy. And actually, I do. For instance, I’m pretty sure my mother was a religious fanatic and that most of the crap she drilled into my head was her distorted adaptation of the Bible. She’d read that book so many times, dissecting it and reshaping it until it said what she needed it to say for her own peace of mind. Once I’d escaped to college and had a chance to view the world on my own, I understood that much better. I also understood that sex might really be overrated. Only, I liked it on a certain level. At least I liked what I saw of it. So, that’s what I do. I watch. I watch and I touch myself. I even finger fuck myself to the memory of watching. I’m a Peeping Tom. Well, a Peeping Tomika. No pun intended. But really, I don’t mean to make light of my actions. It’s an addiction, an obsession. I’m constantly curious if anyone knows that I’m watching. And if someone did know, what would they do? Would they welcome me? Would they stop, scream, run away? Would they have me arrested?