Who Says Rompers Can’t Stomp? with Adriana Anders

Posted August 14, 2017 by Jennifer in Author Guest Post, Giveaway, Stomp vs Romp 2017 | | 1 Comment

Who Says Rompers Can’t Stomp? with Adriana AndersIn His Hands by Adriana Anders
Series: Blank Canvas #3
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca on August 1, 2017
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Amazon | Audio | B&N | Goodreads

He is Her Salvation

Abby Merkley has been a member of the Church of the Apocalyptic Faith since she was a child, and there's no way out―except death. She will fight the odds to survive, but there's no one in the world she can trust, nowhere she can run that the cult can't find her...until her handsome, brooding neighbor takes her into the safety of his arms.

Luc Stanek craves a quiet life. But he doesn't hesitate when a desperate woman lands, bloodied and branded on his doorstep. Soon he finds himself drawn into her chaotic world, caught in the center of an apocalyptic war...and determined to save the fierce beauty no matter the cost.

Who Says Rompers Can’t Stomp?


I’ve always been one of those people who is constitutionally incapable of choosing just one of anything. Which is why there’s no way I can go into this without putting a little Stomp in my Romp. The fact is, life is a balance, right? The beauty of it is that a heroine can steam up the bedroom and still take down an opponent, as needed.


Case in point: All three of the heroines in my Blank Canvas Series have to fight—for their own survival or for the lives of others—and all three of them kick some bad guy ass.


But since I’m not here to talk about knockouts, I’ll leave you with a romp of an excerpt from IN HIS HANDS, book three in the Blank Canvas series.


This was Luc’s problem. This uncontrollable yearning to feel things—things he’d gotten away with avoiding these past couple of years. He didn’t just want to touch and feel a woman’s body—he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and ransack her. Not just experience her, but consume. He’d held on until tonight, but then he’d gotten his mouth on her, and he was gone.

There were women who wanted this sexual voraciousness, he knew, but not Abby. He would never do that to Abby. He’d rather shut himself down, tie himself up…disappear.

But then she sat back, eyes glittering in the dark,

and asked for more. What do we do next? A siren’s song

of pleasure.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “What do you

feel like?”

“How do I… I don’t know.”

He swallowed, taking her in where she sat astride him—those breasts that were soft and warm and heavy, her skin even lighter than he’d imagined, her nipples sharpened by desire. Her smell was different from any other woman he’d been intimate with—pure in its humanity. She was sweet musk, unadorned—unadulterated by the chemical stink of perfume.

Face crinkling, she asked, “If we were normal—and I know we’re not,” she added with a smile, “what would you do?”

He half shrugged and swallowed. “I’d touch you, probably. Find out what you like.”

“Do that, then.”

“I like this.” He worked his hand out from under her and ran it over the underside of one breast. It was plump and pale and so soft. From there, he let his hand slide away from her breast, ran his knuckles down to the slight swell of her belly, around to one lush, freckled hip, and then did a slow, rasping drag up her arm, over her shoulder, and to her neck.

Christ, this neck had haunted him—so slender and sweet, untouched by the sun. He shifted her down so their crotches lined up, with just the blanket separating them. From there, he sat up a bit, bringing their torsos close and letting him breathe her in.

The little sounds that she made spoke of undeniable pleasure, arousal, and surprise. When he caught her eye, she shook her head and looked away.

He wished, in that moment, that he was a different sort of man. One who knew the right words, could spout a line or two of poetry.

“Qu’est-ce qu’il y a, chérie? What is it?”

His hand cradled her throat as she swallowed. “I didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“What I was missing.”

“This is good? When I touch you?”

“Better than good.”




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About Adriana Anders

Adriana Anders writes romance that’s dark, smart, and full of heart. She has acted and sung, slung cocktails and corrected copy. She’s worked for start-ups, multinationals and small nonprofits, but it wasn’t until she returned to her first love—writing romance—that she finally felt like she’d come home. Today, she resides with her tall French husband, two small children and fat bastard of a French cat in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where she writes the dark, gritty, emotional love stories of her heart.

Her award-winning debut novel, Under Her Skin, the first in the Blank Canvas series, will be out from Sourcebooks Casablanca in February 2017.

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Owner/Blogger at The Book Nympho
I coexist with my husband of 15 years, our 11-year-old son and two chilled cats in the Deep South.

After 17 years I've finally finished my BA in English (no I do not want to be a teacher). Before majoring in English I would not have touched anything labeled "classic", but I have enjoyed a few along the way in my college career.

While I hated to read growing up, I am now an avid book reader and audiobook listener. I love rejecting reality one book at a time. I only read fiction within my favorite (at least to date) genres which include: most romance (paranormal, contemporary, D/s, BDSM, M/M)Urban Fantasy, and a few YA (mostly PNR or UF from favorite adult authors, but I'm slowly stepping out of my comfort zone after enjoying a few contemporary YA novels in adolescent literature class I took).
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