PROMISES, an Erotic Romance by New Fanny Press Author Ellen March

promisesWhen the ultimate cad falls in love, who’s going to believe it? Certainly not the one he loves ….

Promises ($13.95, 230 pages, ISBN: 978-1-60381-548-2) is an erotic romance by Welsh author Ellen March. A shy woman falls hard for the boy next door, a jaded multimillionaire in disguise who is only interested in getting his fill of her before moving on.

In coming months, Fanny Press will be publishing several of Ellen’s erotic romances. Next up is His Girl Friday.

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“I really enjoyed PROMISES, by Ellen March. Although both main characters had explosive personalities, and got angry quickly, they were also funny and well written into the story line. Ellen March is a new author for me. I really enjoyed her writing style and the quirkiness of her characters. Ellen March is certainly an author whom I will be checking out other titles from.”  Read more ….

–Sherri M., Fresh Fiction

5 Stars: “Some of the hottest sex scenes I have ever read in a book. I mean really, they are out of this world! There is never a dull moment between Alex and Solomon. Either they are screwing each other senseless, or close to throttling each other out of anger. The passion is all consuming, making this book a page turner! This book will not disappoint fans of erotic romance!”  Read more ….

—April Wood, A Well Read Woman Blog

Shy and self-doubting, Alexandra doesn’t ask much of life. She exists quietly in a small seaside village in Wales, working in the local library and keeping company solely with ‘Roger,’ her vibrator. When Roger breaks down, she must go to the city to seek out his replacement.

Alex’s visit goes spectacularly awry when she stumbles into the wrong hotel room, where she enjoys a blissful interlude with the room’s rightful occupant, Solomon, who she initially mistakes for a vivid dream. Sol’s skills quickly render Roger obsolete, but Alex isn’t about to let a man—not even one as gorgeous as Sol—get under her skin. Relationships are not for the likes of her.

Sol, a notorious playboy and multimillionaire hotelier, isn’t about to let her go so easily—not until he’s had his fill of her. Posing as a simple carpenter, he rents the house next to Alex in Brindley Bay. His plan is to conquer her quickly and return to his real life in a week or so. But Alex is nothing like his other women. For a start, she’s not interested in money. More than that, serious money makes her extremely uncomfortable. And she values honesty above all else. Before he knows it, Sol has promised to love her forever—a promise he fully intends to keep.

But what will Alex do when she inevitably uncovers the elaborate skein of lies he has spun, simply to bed her?

Says Ellen, “I actually love writing about women with problems, whether it’s looks, weight or other issues. I like to fetch realism into romance, in that not all guys fall for the drop-dead gorgeous female. Personality is what it’s all about, along with the obvious connection—the sexual link. Instead of looks, I like to focus on the flaws we all can connect to. That we can mend and move on. Promises delivers all of this and more. At least I like to think so.”

Ellen March and her husband live on top of a mountain in Wales, which is ideal in the summer but not so much in the winter months or when it rains. She has three grown children, one suicidal cat—it really does have nine lives—and five Alaskan Malamutes. One of her hobbies is showing and working them. Ellen’s first love, however, is reading and writing. Since childhood, she has devoured every romance and fantasy she can get her hands on and enjoys acting out her own fantasies in print. Her body of work includes erotic romance, psychological thrillers and supernatural fantasies. She has published three novels in the Doms of Drakos series—Escorting Sydney, One Night in Heaven, and Shadow Play (Ravenous Romance). Click here to find Ellen online.

Keep reading for an excerpt:

It was late when Solomon met up with Callum. This time they sat in a calm pub. No banging of heavy music, no gyrating bodies, just a quiet pint and a chat. He needed to talk to someone, to try and assimilate his feelings and motives, because so far he’d had no success on his own. He’d never hungered after a woman in his entire life. Yet now he was so desperate for her he’d take whatever she offered.

“So, mate, what’s up? This looks like a serious bonding type of talk.” Callum took a sip from his pint and shot Solomon a grin. “Please, Sol, don’t tell me you’re a closet gay and about to come onto me.”

Solomon leaned back in his seat, crossed his muscled thighs and laughed. A deep, gutsy baritone burst from his large chest. “Trust me, if I decided to bat for the other side, I’d be a damn sight more selective.”

“What, you saying I’m not good looking enough?” Callum brushed his hands through a mop of muddy blond hair. He flicked his head back in a dramatic gesture.

“Get used to it, bitch!” Solomon grinned and toasted him, holding his pint up before taking another sip.

“So, come on then. What’s this pep talk about?” Callum pressed.

Solomon leaned back in his chair, studying his friend. “Remember that night when I found a strange woman in my bed?” He mentioned it with a casual ease as if it were an everyday occurrence. Callum knew it damn well wasn’t, and until he met her again Solomon couldn’t explain why he had gone through with it. To himself or anyone else. He didn’t make a habit of sleeping with random females he discovered beneath his duvet. Usually he would have at least turfed them out. Yet there was something strangely compelling about this one, from the moment he’d first touched her.

“Mmm, best jump you’d ever had, according to you.” Callum nodded, looking at him questioningly. “So, come on, spit it out.”

“Well, I can’t get her out of my head.” He took another sip of his pint and considered his friend before laying it all out. “So, I’ve bought the house next door to her.”

“You’ve done what?” About to take a drink, Callum dropped his pint back down on the table with a bang. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Think I might have,” he admitted with a shrug of his massive shoulders, ignoring the admiring glance from a tall blonde who sauntered past.

“You’re actually going to be moving?” Unable to believe what he was hearing, Callum sat bolt upright. “What’s so special about this woman?”

“I’m taking a few weeks off work,” Solomon replied. “About a month should do it, I reckon, maybe less.” Solomon was convinced that once he’d been with her again, the itch he felt would disappear and leave him whole. He stared deep into his pint, a crease marring his forehead. He shook his head. “What’s so special? I don’t know, and that’s the problem.”

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