Honk Honk!! Thanks for stopping by for the Manhattanites Virtual Tour Stop hosted by Lit Connect!! Be sure to stop by the tour homepage to follow all the stops for book info and more!
http://events.litconnect.com/virtual-book-tour-unscrupulous-by-avery-aster/
For my stop, we have book reviews, 25 insights, spotlight on Avery, and the big giveaway!!
For my stop, we have book reviews, 25 insights, spotlight on Avery, and the big giveaway!!
What is this Manhattanites series, you ask?
The Manhattanites is an extended modern erotic romance series
of full length juicy melodramas multilayered on love, friendship, and drama to
the hilt. If you grew up reading Jackie Collins, Judith Krantz and Danielle
Steel you will devour this series as each book may be read as a stand alone.
Sex & The City fans who watch TV shows like Girls (HBO), Mistresses
(ABC/BBC Drama), and The Bold & the Beautiful (CBS) love The Manhattanites
series. Avery’s characters are over the top. They have raunchy sex, speak their
minds and always get what they want.
************************************************************
Let's start with Book 2, since we are celebrating it's release, shall we?
Unscrupulous (#2 The
Manhattanites)
Content Warning: due to graphic
sex scenes, strong language, suggestive themes, mature humor, and just abou
t everything
your friends ever told you not to do–including getting vajazzled, this novel is
for adults only.
At thirty-three Warner Truman
is one of the richest men on the planet, a spa mogul who buys and sells resorts
at will. He holds powerful executive’s careers in his well-groomed hands.
Nothing is beyond Warner’s reach…until he meets her.
Stunning, tantalizing, and
perverse, Taddy Brill captivates Warner’s carnal desire like no woman he’s ever
met. A self-made millionaire, Taddy is tougher than steel, more brilliant than
diamonds and, at twenty-seven, she’s never depended on a man for anything…until
she meets him.
The more Taddy plays with
Warner’s affections, driving him to erotic heights, the more she is confronted
by a dark past. But before she can love him, Taddy must meet her worst fears
head-on or risk losing it all, including herself.
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17453515-unscrupulous
**************************************************************
What did I think of this book?
Two words, "nailed it." 5 God of all hotness stars! This book was great. The humor is to die for. I totally want to be Taddy Brill when I grow up. She is feisty, crazy, and just plain doesn't give a crap. The humor around sex is so over the top funny, I was getting cramps from laughing so hard. I mean, in the chair getting a pedi. OMG. I am never going to be able to get a pedi again without remembering Taddy. In the office while your assistant is standing there. OMG. Hilarious! Over the freaking balcony while people are standing there recording. OM freaking G. I love it!! Vajazzing? Sign me up! The things I learn from Avery Aster. Sigh.
I adore this series. It provides me with the perfect escape. In a world where there is so much chaos and craziness, it is so good to just sit back and read a good book and laugh. Avery's books take me there every single time. I can't even count the number of times I have read Lex and Massimo's book (Undressed). Every time I see an Evian water bottle, I think of him. I love it!! Now, I know I will be reading this one over and over, too.
Ladies, if you want a great, sexy read and aren't a prude, read Avery's The Manhattanites books. They are awesome!!
Avery, my girl crush has deepened! I bow at your feet!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Unscrupulous was very, very educational. Let me share with 25 New Yorker insights that you will learn from Avery Aster!!
Topic: Sex
Always
vajazzle your vajayjay in garnet red Swarovski crystals, then go to a champagne
bar without wearing any underpants.
When a
one night stand asks you to keep the lights off as he undresses check his
scrotum for candied sprinkles.
If at
first you don’t succeed in taking his entire anaconda, try and try again.
If you
let a hunk finger you while in public, it’s best to orgasm under a cocktail
table when no one is looking.
Prostitution
isn’t illegal in France, but ejaculating in public on a balcony out over a
crowd of tourists will indeed get you arrested.
Topic: Money
When
paying good money to import a butler from Russia, particularly one named Díma
Revva, make sure he can cook something other than just Holodets for dinner.
Never
buy a workout package of private home lessons from Gilad Oseary, a gorgeous
Middle Eastern Pilates instructor. The last thing he’ll do with you is work
out.
Avoid
pinching pennies by using an expired moisturizer that you’ve stolen from your
plastic surgeon’s office. The karma will cost you more than a good complexion.
Always
pay for your own travel accommodations when going to the Cannes Film Festival.
Any attempt to secure free tickets by blackmailing airline officials with
photos of them wearing your corsets is bound to blow-up in your face.
If Mr.
Kim Lee, your male nail technician, expects a bigger than average tip for his
pedicure, he’d better be prepared to do a lot more than buff your toes. Especially
when you’ve just attended a BDSM workshop with Madam Queen Dick Dupree and are
ramped up for a fucking good time.
Topic: Work
Spying
out your office window at the people in the high-rise next to you with best
friends Vive and Blake should only be done while drinking Bloody Mary’s and
using binoculars.
Virgin
Mormons make the best personal assistants. They are never hung over at work nor
will they steal your Manolo Blahniks. But they may become naturally curious and
ask to borrow your porn collection.
Having
a reality TV star as a PR client can be annoying, especially when she thinks
she can not only design handbags and make jewelry but also record a pop album.
Masturbating
to NFL player fantasies is best done on an elliptical next to your desk while
wearing Lululemon stretch pants.
Just
because you own the high-rise that your company is in, doesn’t give you the
liberty to smoke indoors.
Topic: Love
When
you’re sleeping alone waiting for his call, it’s alright to use your four Shih
Tzus as loveable fur pillows.
Don’t
look away while making love to Warner Truman. He wants your eyes meeting his
and his hands on your heart.
Love
may be unconditional, but if your parents drop you off at boarding school when
you’re thirteen and never pick you back up, ever, it’s okay to tell them to go
fuck themselves.
The
love you get from your friends and co-workers may be special, but it’ll never
compare to the love you get from the six-foot-five, anaconda-hung, hazel-eyed,
close-to-trillionaire stud, you’ve nicknamed Big Daddy.
The
third richest man in the world is capable of saying he loves you. He just has
to jet around the globe and do it in style.
********************************************
Let's not forget where my love affair with Avery began!
Milan’s notorious playboy,
Massimo Tittoni, seems to have everything–Lamborghinis, exotic women, palaces
throughout Europe and business success. Ramping up his fabric company to go
global with a new apparel brand, he ruthlessly stops supplying fabrics to the
American client who inspired the collection. But once they meet, what’s he
willing to give to get her in his bed?
Upper East Side designer Lex
Easton will be damned if she’ll let an Italian stud muffin knock her down. So
what if she named her favorite vibrator after him. With Fashion Week
approaching, she’ll do whatever it takes to secure the fabrics she needs to
become the next Diane von Furstenburg– even sleep with her rival. But when she
arrives in Europe the paparazzi chronicles her every move and she finds herself
in a situation never imagined. Lex’s Louboutins stilettos are dug in deep to
win this war. All’s fair in love and fashion!
Avery Aster’s super-glossy
debut novel is loaded with passionate escapism, pitting American ambition
against Italian tradition. Erotic romance fans who appreciate extended sex
scenes, witty banter and glamour mustn’t miss Undressed.
Inside Scoop: Though the hero
and heroine remain monogamous, their Prada-wearing friends indulge in a ménage
a trois and other fashionable sexual fun and games
Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17379259-undressed
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/16Ze8tF
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Wanna know what I thought about it? Yes? Good. No? Oh well, I am going to tell you anyway.
5 FREAKING FANTASTIC SMUTTASTIC STARS! I loved this book. Holy shit, the smut is hawt! Massimo, you Evian bottled freak, I heart you. Lex was so damn funny especially when bickering with Tabby and Blake. The scene with Blake asking Lex if he should name his butt plug Andy Cooper had me spewing coffee everywhere. I just loved this book. I cant say enough good things. And fuck-it bucket...bahahaha! I so need one of those!!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Meet Author Avery Aster: AVERY ASTER pens erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave. As a resident of New York’s Upper East Side and a graduate from New York University, Avery gives readers an inside look at the city’s glitzy nightlife, socialite sexcapades and tall tales of the über-rich and ultra-famous. “I write about what I see in my metropolis that never sleeps–Manhattanites on the quest for a passionate thrill,” Avery says. “By and large, my characters are drop-dead gorgeous, ripped straight from the headlines and on the hunt for their next conquest.”
UNDRESSED #1 (Lex & Massimo) launched The Manhattanites series, exploring people’s forbidden desires of lust and longing. UNSCRUPULOUS #2 (Taddy & Warner) is the highly anticipated prequel coming August 14, 2013. Also, stay tuned for the sequel with UNSAID #3 (Blake & Miguel) coming winter 2013.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, for the giveaway!!
Unscrupulous Pre-Sale Tour: Enter in The Manhattanites Rafflecopter prize contest (must sign up for Avery's newsletter and will only be notified about upcoming releases) and win: • First prize: a $50.00 American Express gift card. • Second prize: your name in Avery Aster's upcoming novel; Unsaid (#3 The Manhattanites) scheduled to release fall/winter • Third prize: ebook of Unscrupulous & Undressed • Fourth prize: ebook of Unscrupulous • Fifth prize: ebook of Undressed The Manhattanites Tour:Enter in The Manhattanites Rafflecopter prize contest (must sign up for Avery's newsletter and will only be notified about upcoming releases) and win: • First prize: a $200.00 American Express gift card. • Second prize: your name in Avery Aster's upcoming novel; Unsaid (#3 The Manhattanites) scheduled to release fall/winter • Third prize: ebook of Unscrupulous & Undressed • Fourth prize: ebook of Unscrupulous • Fifth prize: ebook of Undressed **** Please follow the Rafflecopter directions at each stop. Full Terms and Conditions are located on the widget. **** |
a Rafflecopter giveaway
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Want a little taste of what I am talking about? Read the excerpt below from Unscrupulous!!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Want a little taste of what I am talking about? Read the excerpt below from Unscrupulous!!
*the
set up:
Warner Truman has lost Taddy Brill “Red.” He can’t find her
anywhere and he can’t stop thinking about her. A trip to the spa reminds him of
her vajazzle crystals she wore on her vagina the night they met.
Chapter
Nine
Rubies
Return
May 15th
St.
Barth’s, French West Indies
St. Barth’s
elite moved on to the Mediterranean and the South of France when the Caribbean
winter and spring seasons came to an end. Warner returned to the Secrète de St. Barth supervising the
closeout with his executive team. Kip Von Scott had succeeded with a
record-breaking year in room occupancy. Warner promoted him to Hôtel du France, a higher profile
property on the French Riviera. Secrète
de St. Barth slowed down in the summer, staffing a skeletal crew for maintenance.
Then the property ramped back up for the winter to repeat the cycle yet again.
He’d taken
the remainder of the day off to relax and enjoy his free time.
Out by the pool, he walked into the spa. “Bonjour, Brigitte, comment allez-vous?”
He greeted the spa manager as he closed the glass door behind him.
“Je suis bien. Et vous?” Brigitte replied
from the reception desk.
“I’m having
back spasms.” Warner strength trained, dropping the weight from high to low
after each set. His goal wasn’t to get any bigger. He just wanted to maintain
his build. At times, his workout caused his back and shoulders to contract.
“A deep
tissue massage, monsieur?” She held
out her hands at the empty spa. “We
have many openings today.”
“Would you
mind?” Rubbing his neck, it felt tight. “I just worked out.”
“Take
treatment room nombre deux. I’ll be
there in a moment.”
Going into
the eight by ten, dimly lit treatment room, he closed the door. Inhaling a
sedative aroma, the lavender helped him relax. His muscle tension started to
subside. New Age music drifted from the walls’ speakers. Angelic tunes narrated
Celtic legends. He felt as if a mythical fairy might fly out at any minute. All
that New Age mumbo jumbo was one reason why he didn’t get massages very often.
He turned
off the waterfall noisemaker plugged into the far wall. The machines made him
want to piss. After undressing, he grabbed a terry cloth robe from behind the
door and slipped it on. It was too short at the arms and legs. Warner walked
over to the massage table wondering why they made them so short. Spa tables
never came long enough for tall people. He owned the joint, yet his legs still
hung off the edge. He sat and lifted his foot to remove his gym socks.
“What the
hell?” Half a dozen miniature ruby gemstones were stuck to his sock and
shimmered at him. He’d seen them before. He pulled the crimson sparkles off his
white cotton feet.
Warner
rubbed the crystals between his fingers and placed them on his palm. Closing
his hand into a fist, he’d seen these gems before. They came from Red.
Beauty.
Warmth. Lust.
The words
they’d exchanged to one another danced in his mind. He’d reflected on Privé Extreme, wondering if he’d
hallucinated and Red hadn’t occurred at all. If not for the surveillance tapes,
he might’ve believed he’d gone into a trance due to the holiday stress.
“I’m
Red…I’d like to have whatever juice you’re serving…I do love intensity…You
may…Dom Perignon Rosé…Back to your place.”
He’d
checked with each hotel on the island. No resort confirmed the redhead. He
never thought to check his own. Wasn’t this always the case?
Last
January, Privé Extreme ran the
entrance surveillance tapes showing Red arriving with a skinny blonde and
leaving with him. The video confirmed he hadn’t lost his mind. The membership
card Red had used to obtain club access was reported stolen, perhaps resold
without her knowing.
Looking on
the spa’s floor, he saw a gem trail that led to the side cabinet. He opened the
cabinet. A colorful tray stared back at him in various blue, purple, green, and
yellow shades. But it was the red that spoke to him and echoed, “Hello, Big
Daddy.”
Brigitte
knocked on the door. “Monsieur Warner,
you ready?”
“Entrez.”
“Prêt?” Brigitte’s face twisted in
confusion. He wasn’t disrobed facedown under the sheet as expected.
He held his hand out, showing her the rubies. “What are
these?
“Monsieur, those are vajazzling.” She
laughed, removing the crystals from his hands, closing the cupboard, and
shaking her head.
“Vajazz—what?”
“We are the
exclusive spa in St. Barth’s offering vajazzling.” She explained the service
women booked to decorate their private area with luxurious beaded jewels.
Unreal! He didn’t know such luxuries existed. “Could you
please pull your client logs for New Year’s Eve weekend, say December 30th?”
“Oui, is there anything in particular
you’re looking for?”
“You
mean…anyone. A woman who received the red crystal application to her…whatever
you call it.” Warner hoped he finally find Red.
“Un moment.” She slipped out from the
room.
Excitement
charged through him. He sat down to control his breathing and closed his eyes. Relax, Warner, you’ll find Red. Inhaling
the herbs, he listened to the pixie-like music and waited.
Anytime
he’d seen a long-legged woman with red hair, he’d approached hoping to find
her. Wherever his travels took him, Warner’s mind wandered to Red.
I can taste you Red. The
tuberose smell in her wavy hair, her velvet tongue kissing his while he cupped
those breasts. Her sensitive nipples responsive to his every touch—he looked
forward to nibbling on them.
Warner
imagined himself carrying Red to his bedroom and unzipping her from the dress.
The sheer fabric, a second skin between them, dropped to the floor. He’d kneel,
remove each shoe, and admire her calves then kiss her inner thighs. She’d twirl
her figure in his face.
Red, I can’t wait to make your body dance with me inside
you. She’d hold her long hair over her bare shoulders. Pose for
a minute—naked. Enjoying the view, he’d stroke his cock and asked, “May I?”
“You may.”
He’d place her on his bed against the pillows. Her legs would spread for him.
His two hands would scissor her folds as his tongue tickled her. She’d scream
in ecstasy, holding on to his shoulders while he lapped at her cunt. Red, you taste sweet as fresh cream.
Once she became nice and wet, wetter than before, wetter than she’d ever
thought possible, he’d give her his cock…
“Monsieur.”
Fuck! At the knock on the door, Warner threw
the sheet over his crotch and stayed seated on the table.
Brigitte
returned. “Monsieur, the appointment
books show it was I who waited on a young woman who booked the vajazzling.” Her
cheeks flushed. “I’m embarrassed. I don’t mean to upset you.”
“What is
it?” He sat up but dared not stand.
“I remember
now waiting on her.”
“You do?”
Warner could hear the herald angels singing.
“The client
was a tall, model-type, tipped me one hundred dollars. I’m not sure if she
stayed in the hotel, but can assume. She came from the United States, Beverly
Hills perhaps.”
“Makes
sense.” Red had embodied 90210.
“May I ask
why you’re inquiring about this client?”
“I met her
on this island. I didn’t get her name but must find her.”
Her lips
curved into a broad smile of approval. “I understand. I wish I could be of more
help. I don’t remember anything else except she insisted on being vajazzled in
red.”
Naturally.
“What name did she book under?” Warner could see Red’s name being Eva,
Penelope, or Isobelle. He’d even be okay with Prudence, Horace, or Drucilla.
“Mademoiselle Red.” Brigitte looked at
him like, go-figure. “She paid with a credit card, but I don’t have her file at
this spa. Everything went to corporate at the year’s end on the thirty-first.”
“S’il vous plaît, call headquarters. Tell
accounting I’m with you. Ask them to pull the spa service transaction records.”
“Oui, monsieur, un moment.” She left him
alone in the room and closed the door.
His cock
was still hard. Warner jumped to his feet, locked the door, and then laid his
head back down on the bed where his thoughts returned to Mademoiselle Red. He reached down under the sheet he’d thrown over
himself and tugged at his dick, and continued.
Red, I’m going to fuck you. He
visualized Red taking to his dick with the same pleasure she’d taken to his
touches, kisses, and affection for her. She’d lick the head’s slit, moving her
juicy lips over the mushroom tip until he was rock hard. Yanking on his balls,
she’d stare at him with those captivating green eyes, hungry. Warner would hold
her beautiful face in his hands, guiding her mouth over his shaft, helping her
get comfortable. You want to taste me?
You like my pre-cum, baby?
Warner
jacked harder under the sheet.
He’d roll
over, massaging her clit’s hood with his fingers. Warner would bring himself
down over her, enjoying her moan in his ear, her pleasure, and he’d thrust fast
and hard. It would be for her. Having her in his arms would be her experience.
He’d drive into her vagina, sensing it throb and swell around his dick. Her
slit swelled in response, she’d tighten her hungry cunt around him ready to
come.
“Fuck
yeah.” He fisted his dick, throwing the sheet to the floor.
Biting his
neck, she’d scream in bliss for him. Warner would lift her ass and get
underneath. She’d climb on top, ride him, her vagina hugging his cock. He’d
bury his face in her breasts and tug on each rosebud gently with his teeth. His
body would thrust, drill, and spread her ass apart with his seed. Red would
hold on for dear life as she came while he flooded her with his cum. You wanna come. Come on, Red, I have you,
let go, come.
Warner came
as the orgasm rain fell on his abdomen. He felt his face bead sweat as he
released. Red, please come back to me. I
have to have you.
There was a knock at the door. “Monsieur, the door is locked.”
“One sec,”
he washed his hands, tied his robe, grabbed the sheet, unlocked the door, and
sat back down, covering himself. Hoping Brigitte wouldn’t notice.
Eyes
rolling, Brigitte’s face whitened as she mumbled pervers under her breath. “New York headquarters started the
search. You’ll hear from them in about two weeks or a month.” Brigitte stood in
the doorway playing with her wedding band, twirling the metal around her ring
finger with her thumb. Perhaps afraid he’d fuck her if she came into the room,
she made her commitment obvious. He wouldn’t. Truman Enterprises staffed
attractive female employees at all of his properties, but none of them compared
to Red, not even close.
That was
just his luck. He gave a tight smile and sighed. “Thanks for checking.”
Over the
winter, Warner had looked for Red while visiting his properties in Sydney,
Australia. He could’ve sworn he spotted her sailing once on a boat not too far
from Perast in the Bay of Kotor in Montenegro. In the spring, he’d walked on
Xai-Xai coast in Mozambique catching the sunrise. Certain it was Red on the
beach, he’d run close to half a mile along the muddy shore to catch her. It
wasn’t. Maybe the universe didn’t intend for them to meet again. Possibly he’d
never have Red. Warner remembered how the night had ended.
“I left
crazy back home. I sure as hell have no interest in your St. Barth’s drama,”
Red had blasted.
The memory
of her as she walked away caused him to shudder. He’d given Red his number, slipped
his business card in her handbag. Red never called. Why not—he’d asked himself
on many occasions. He considered himself stupid to dwell on this a second
longer. Warner wasn’t religious but he thought about the Biblical proverb, “For
wisdom is more precious than rubies, and nothing you desire can compare with
her.” God aside, his head required a new screw to put it back on tight.
“Monsieur Warner, they issued a tracking
number for this ticket item.” Brigitte stepped forward, placing the note on the
counter, and then returning to her stance in the hallway.
“Merci.” He didn’t want what just
happened to circulate amongst his staff. Especially if Brigitte gossiped about
Truman Enterprises’ CEO whacking off in the treatment room. He hoped to change
the subject and her mindset before he left. “What are your plans this summer
while the resort hibernates?”
Her face
warmed up. “A few of us from the spa are going to Hôtel du France on a spa mobile tour for beauté treatments.”
“I’ll be in
Cannes for the festival as well. I hope to see you.” Although he found the
Cannes beaches too celebrity-centric, Warner always enjoyed his time in France.
Hôtel du France remained
Truman Enterprises’ most profitable property. How? The rooms were always filled
to capacity during the Cannes Film Festival by corporate event sponsors.
“Did you
want your massage, Monsieur?” She
stepped into the room hopefully putting his recent “door locked, beating off”
session behind her.
“My back is
better. I’ve changed my mind, thank you though.” He needed a cold shower.
“I’ll leave
you be to get dressed. See you in Cannes, Monsieur
Warner.” Brigitte closed the door on her way out.
“Au revoir.” Warner wondered if he’d ever
see Red again. He took the ticket off the counter. It read, “Barth/Red/Dec30/Vajazz.”
Who are you, Mademoiselle Red?
No comments:
Post a Comment