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Amanda Elliot

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Amanda
1,710 books | 29 friends

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Amanda Elliot

Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ Author


Born
in The United States
Website

Genre

Member Since
June 2021


Amanda Elliot lives with her husband and daughter in New York City, where she collects way too many cookbooks for her tiny kitchen, runs in Central Park, and writes mysteries under the name Bellamy Rose (Pomona Afton Can So Solve a Murder, coming March 2025). You can follow her on Instagram @amandaelliotbooks

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Popular Answered Questions

Amanda Elliot Thank you so much! My next rom-com, Best Served Hot, is a standalone following different characters, but you might see a familiar face or two pop up ;…m´Ç°ù±ðThank you so much! My next rom-com, Best Served Hot, is a standalone following different characters, but you might see a familiar face or two pop up ;)(less)
Amanda Elliot Thank you so much! :) I sadly do not have a babka beignet recipe, but as far as babka variations go, I'm dying to try Smitten Kitchen's recipe for a b…m´Ç°ù±ðThank you so much! :) I sadly do not have a babka beignet recipe, but as far as babka variations go, I'm dying to try Smitten Kitchen's recipe for a baklava babka!(less)
Average rating: 3.63 · 14,896 ratings · 2,764 reviews · 3 distinct works â€� Similar authors
Love You a Latke

3.82 avg rating — 5,295 ratings — published 2024 — 5 editions
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Sadie on a Plate

3.73 avg rating — 4,851 ratings — published 2022 — 5 editions
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Best Served Hot

3.32 avg rating — 4,750 ratings — published 2023 — 4 editions
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* Note: these are all the books on Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ for this author. To add more, click here.

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Quotes by Amanda Elliot  (?)
Quotes are added by the Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ community and are not verified by Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ.

“I just didn't want Christmas in my Hanukkah, the same way I didn't want to dip a grilled cheese in my cinnamon roll latte. Both were delicious, but I didn't want them together.”
Amanda Elliot, Love You a Latke

“I spun around, and now heat throbbed all through me from my chest down between my legs, because we were front to front, and my eyes met his with a spark that sizzled, and his voice was husky as he said, "We might die in here."
There are worse places to die, I thought, nestled against his chest, and then I said it out loud. I could feel rather than hear his laugh. And then I was looking up at him, and he was looking down at me, and he asked the question with his eyes, and I answered it, and he bent down, and I lifted my chin and then we were kissing.
Kissing. I was kissing Bennett.
His lips were soft against mine at first, gentle, exploring. But I craved more. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer, kissed him harder, parted my lips and let his tongue slip inside.
I was kissing Bennett.
He made a little noise deep in his throat, a growl or a purr, as he slid his hands down my body to my waist. They touched the exposed slice of skin between my blouse and skirt and God that flash of tingly heat made me gasp. Made me want more. Made me want him.
"Julie." My name was a plea. I answered him with another kiss, curled myself into him so tight I didn't know if I'd be able to untangle myself from his warm skin and soft curls and the gentle flex of his biceps as he held tight to me.
I didn't want to, though. I wanted to wrinkle that pressed button-down, slip my hand beneath it and trace the divot running down his back, bite his earlobe and feel him shiver.”
Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot

“I panted as he pulled me back through the entryway, hands on my waist, kissing the whole way, and collapsed backward onto the gray leather couch, which felt softer than my skin. I fell on top of him, straddling his lap. He kissed his way down my neck and across the collar of my blouse, leaving a trail of fire behind.
"Enough of that," I panted, ripping my shirt over my head. Thank goodness I'd worn a decent bra today---blue satin with a bow in the middle, not frayed or torn anywhere. He eyed it with a growl of approval, but maybe it wasn't a growl for the bra at all, because a moment of fumbling over my back and---pop---I shook off my now unfastened bra.
"And to think you didn't like me at first." He drank me in unabashedly, his eyes roaming from belly to breasts to nose to eyes, and each inch his eyes traveled made me feel more and more powerful. Like I could go anywhere, do anything.
Except all I wanted to do was right here. I ground against him, feeling his cock already hard and strong under his zipper. "Who says I like you now?"
He gasped and pulled me tighter onto him. "If this is what you do to people you don't like, what do you do to people you do like?"
I silenced him with another kiss as I rubbed up and down him again. Now my own sex was throbbing, and I sucked in a breath with every movement.
I kept moving up and down as he kissed my breasts, tongue tracing lightly over each nipple. When I couldn't take it anymore, I tumbled to the side, lying down on the couch and pulling him on top of me. Because his was an expensive couch and not the cheap one my old roommate had bought at Ikea, there was plenty of room for us to writhe without making me feel like I might topple off the edge.
He went down to kiss my breasts again... and kept going. His tongue slid down my stomach, did a lazy circle around my belly button. I clenched my teeth, holding back a beg for more as he slowly, slowly, way too slowly unzipped my skirt and tugged it down. I kicked it off, along with my underwear, when he reached my knees, nearly clipping him on the ear.
When I felt close to the edge, I reached down and pulled him up. My hand moved down and took over, zeroing in on just the right spot on my clit. It didn't take long. I shuddered against his shoulder, biting back a cry, then wondered why I was biting it back and let it out.
Breathing hard, my head collapsed back into the cushion. I was a little worried that now post-orgasm clarity would descend upon me and be like, What the hell are you doing, Julie? but the post-orgasm clarity seemed to approve. With a wink and a nudge, it made me pull away, and the desire roared back inside me. "That's why it's great to have a clitoris," I told Bennett. "Multiple orgasms.”
Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot

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