“What do you want?” #MidWeekTease from MY BIGGEST FAN

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Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to the lovely Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases 🙂

This week’s tease is a small tribute to rocker Chris Cornell who very sadly passed away last week. It comes from my erotic contemporary Romance on the Go, the rock star tale MY BIGGEST FAN. It is quite long as I wanted to do the whole scene justice. Enjoy!

*****

 
 
A voice pulls me out of dreamland. “Morning, Shawn.”

Jumping in my chair, I open my eyes and squint at sunlight shining through windows and outlining a feminine silhouette in front of me.

It’s Samantha, hazel eyes smiling, dressed in jeans from top to toe, and holding two paper cups. In the chilly hall air, vapor drifts from the hot beverage before the aromatic smell of brewed coffee beans reaches me.

Damn. Her again, as if I need a tail. I was dozing, and more than a little hung-over. I only had a few beers last night, but my forehead aches and waves of nausea tease my stomach.

“Dude, you were snoring.” My roadie Jaz grins. He sits on a metal chair next to me with his laptop on his knees.

He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday and smells of sweat. At least I’ve changed. After a night of bad sleep on a hard bus couch, I took a shower in a hotel room the management booked for that purpose, and put on new clothes. Today, it’s a Bon Scott shirt.

I glance around; we’re alone in the middle of a dark concert hall. A new day, a new show, and we’re all supposed to meet in the empty venue for breakfast. It’s a smaller place, taking only five thousand people, which suits me fine. I like how the intimate club atmosphere enables me to be closer to the fans. Yet, it’s so big, every sound and voice echoes between walls.

Samantha hands us the coffee. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Jaz accepts a cup and lifts a brow in my direction, since we’re not used to being served by a fan. “Thanks.” He turns back to his laptop.

I’m tempted to say I didn’t order coffee, but refrain and take mine with a frown before putting it on the cement floor beside my chair.

“You’re welcome,” she says, eyeing me. “It’s a beautiful day. You should take a walk outside.”

She looks around, finds a chair, and pulls it in front of us, metal legs grazing the floor. I swear that scorching sound could awake the dead—it resonates in my head, and I grit my teeth from the pain.

She sits. “Mind if I ask you guys a few questions? It’s part of my assignment.”

Ignoring her, I lean toward Jaz and peek at his screen. “What time is it?”

Samantha replies. “About ten am.”

I’ve slept for more than an hour. That’s good.

Again, I ask Jaz. “Have you seen Teddy?”

“Teddy?” she asks.

God, she’s annoying. I snort. “Our road manager.”

“Oh, Mr. Wilkinson. He stood outside the bus when I arrived, talking to some guys. Told me where to find you.”

Thanks, man. She’s the last person I need now. And whatever she wants from me, I can’t give her. Honestly, she’s wasted years of her life fantasizing about me. I must be thirteen years older. Besides, I don’t get what she likes so much. She doesn’t know a damn thing about me.

Dark hazel eyes observe me. “He said he kicked your ass, last night. For breaking a few rules.”

“Is that part of your interview?”

She tightens her jaw, and I snicker.

After a moment, she nods to the floor beside me. “You’re not having that coffee?”

Before I can reply, she leans forward to grab it. Her soft brown hair dances before me, the scent of flowery shampoo filling my intimate space, and my heart beats a little faster as images from yesterday’s intense flirting play in my mind. Despite not exactly appearing sexy, she got me horny fast enough.

She sits back in her chair, brings the coffee to her mouth, and takes a sip.

I grin. “So, Sam, what’s your impression of life on the road so far?”

She shoots me a look above the cup, but doesn’t reply.

I chuckle. Laughing feels good, alleviates the nausea. “I guess you hate me, huh?” From the look on her face when I walked away yesterday, my behavior did some damage to her feelings.

She shrugs. “Hate you? Why would I do that? And please call me Samantha.”

Why she would hate me? I smile. Instead of answering my question, she asks me one that will lead me to admit I hurt her. Smart.

She holds my look. “I don’t think you want to hurt people.”

“No?”

“No. I think you just want to have fun, like a spoiled kid.”

“Maybe.” Grinning, I lift a foot and stroke her ankle with mine. “So what you’re saying is I don’t need to apologize.”

She looks like she pities me, and I laugh again. By miracle, both my headache and bad mood vanish. Maybe a coffee would be nice, after all.

The creaking metal door opens and Mike comes in with a bag, long curls moving in tune with his steps, wearing the usual black leather. He glances at us and mumbles, “Hi” before strolling to a corner. With a look of annoyance, he takes a chair, pulls a laptop out of the bag, and places it on a small table in front of him.

He’s a loner I’ve had to hire for the remaining tour dates because our own guy broke his foot during a stage-dive two weeks ago. We don’t really get along, but I didn’t have much of a choice at the time—he was one of a very few available lead guitarists with enough skill to learn a dozen songs in forty-eight hours and perform them as well as the original axe.

Sam turns back to Jaz. “So what is it like, working with Shawn?”

He gazes from her to me. “Well, you know I work for him, not with him, so…”

I shoot in, teasing, “Hey, Sam, I am apologizing.”

“You look like you mean it, too,” she quips, eyes fixed on Jaz.

I smile. Gotta like that girl.

Jaz winks at her. “He’s all right, just a little cocky. But what do you expect from a rock star?” He widens his eyes in mockery. “Arrogance is part of the game.”

I snort. “That’s bull, Jaz. You love me. You think I’m a mean bass player.”

“True. Mean, but lazy.” He winks again. “If you bothered learning the notes instead of doin’ that instinctive shit, you could play the bass like a lead guitar. Like Billy Sheehan.”

I shrug. I’m not shooting for the stars. All I want is to give the other band members a rhythm foundation together with the drums.

Sam says, “What’s special about you, Shawn, is that you use a pick. Most bassists play with their fingers.”

Oh, she’s done her homework. I smile. “I like to hit the chords instead of tapping ‘cause it gives a raw, in-your-face metallic sound that suits our music. When you use the fingers, the sound’s muffled.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Okay, I have a few fan questions. Things people have asked in the forums. One guy said you laugh a lot. Most rock stars have their nose in the air, but you always look so cool, like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am enjoying myself. Life’s easy. Whenever I want something, it’s handed to me. Like you.” I flash my teeth. “Fate handed you to me.”

She ignores me. “Someone else said it’s funny how the band members have different styles. That’s odd for a rock band.”

“Yeah. I’m the punk.” I run a hand through my spiked hair. “Timmi’s the glam rocker. Jeff, well, he’s a crossover sorta guy from Cali, a mix of funk and grunge. And then we have Mike, the heavy metaller.” I throw my chin toward him in the corner.

His dark eyes dart to me, expressionless, before turning back to his screen.

“Hmm.” She nods. “So you unite all these styles and create some pretty cool, innovative music.”

“Thanks.”

“How do you feel about the fans?”

“The fans, or the groupies?” I joke.

She smiles. “The regular fans. Are they okay to deal with, or do they annoy you?”

“Well, if all were like you, I think I would’ve fucked more bimbos than Gene Simmons.”

I nod to the KISS patches on her chest pockets and grin, picturing the long-tongued rocker and the thousands of beautiful women he’s bedded.

She shakes her head, but a smile curves her lips.

I try to be serious. “No, really, I like the fans. It’s nice to see so many people loving my music and knowing my lyrics and all.”

“Bah,” Mike shoots in from his corner. “They’re a pain. The way they hang around the places we stay at and demand we sign everything they own.”

“I don’t mind. Especially if they ask me to sign their tits or a nice ass.” I glance at Sam to study her reaction. I grin, but she stares back with a placid face.

He scowls at me. “We don’t owe them anything.”

“C’mon, dude. We wouldn’t be here today”—I spread my arms and sweep the large club—“if each and every one of them didn’t buy that record or that show ticket.”

He shakes his head. “Fuck that. We offer a product, they pay for it, and we don’t owe them shit.”

“That’s bull, Mike. They’re the reason we’re here.”

“No, man, you’re wrong. We have success ‘cause we have talent. And anyway, what fucking sense does it make to have our name on a piece of paper?”

I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t cost us much, and if it makes them happy…”

I sense Sam observing me. It’s probably the first time I say something she approves of. But I didn’t do it to please her or because she’s going to post it on our page. It’s the truth. I would never have made it without my fans, and Mike would be out of job, too.

I’m awaiting her next question when she puts the empty coffee cup on the floor, stands in front of me, and with a mysterious smile leans forward to take both my hands in hers. They’re warm, generous, and pull at me.

I cock my head. “What are you doing, Sam?”

“Getting your ass out. It’s a nice day and I don’t intend to spend all of it in here.” She tugs at my hands until I reluctantly get up from my chair.

I stand close to her, searching her brown eyes—wondering how far she will push this awkward situation—when she blushes, releases my hands, and looks down.

I stare for another moment, so near her that both her body heat and the scent of prairie flowers brush against me in the chilly air. From the silence in the large hall, I imagine the two other guys studying us.

“What do you want?” I insist, curious.

The tension between us isn’t sexual. She’s unlike any girl I’ve met, and I have to admit, I like her enough to give her a chance at… I don’t know…becoming a friend? I’ve never had a female friend.

Hell, I don’t think I’ve had a real male friend, either, one who I’ve considered a brother and been able to trust, chat with about anything, and share my life. The closest to that is Timmi with whom I started the band. While he’s fun to hang with and we’ve lived a few ups and downs, we’ve never had a total connection.

Her chest heaves slowly before me, as if she’s trying to regain composure.

Then she makes up her mind. Avoiding my eyes, she slides her arm under mine, turns around, and pulls me with her toward the door. Puzzled and more than a little charmed, I follow.

Jaz’s low chuckle sounds behind my back, and when I turn, he grins and sends me a playful wink.

Copyright (c) 2013 Lea Bronsen

 

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Shawn Torien is a handsome, arrogant bassist with the groove rock band Bloodless. At thirty four, he’s seen everything, been everywhere, and all is handed to him on a silver plate, groupies included.

His rock star attitude is questioned when the record company’s young webmistress Samantha joins the band to cover their life on the road. As she has crushed on Shawn for years, he takes great pleasure in teasing her and pushing her away… until he learns about the woman beneath the surface.

 

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*****

 

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Under his Protection by Doris O’Connor

Congratulations to Doris O’Connor on your new release!


 

Thank you so much for having me on your blog with my new release Under his Protection. I’m so excited that Lukas and Jacqui’s story is back out there.

This is a previously released title. If you’ve read the anthology Dominant Persuasions, you’ll have met these two. I have added some new material, but it is in essence the same story, so bear that in mind if you’ve read it before.

Either way, I’m stoked that these two get to shine on their own now, and as my editor pointed out…. I may well write the story/stories of the other characters you meet.

Writing this story was great fun, and I hope readers will love these two as much as I do.

 

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Jacqui Page is all set to spend her thirty-fifth birthday eating her body weight in chocolate and watching chick flicks—until her best friend drags her off to visit the local BDSM club.

Now, a birthday spanking sounds like a mighty fine idea. Especially if it’s going to be delivered by the one man she’s been secretively lusting after for weeks—her melt your panties in an instant, bad boy neighbor.

Lukas Markz can’t believe his eyes when his shy, goody-two-shoes, next-door neighbor turns up at his club, dressed as every Dom’s wet dream. He doesn’t do commitment, but witnessing her submission brings out his inner caveman. No other man is going to get to mark her soft skin or listen to the sounds of her surrender. This bundle of curves is under his protection, and he will show her what it means to be his.

 

This is a previously published work. It has been revised and edited for Evernight Publishing. 

Be Warned: BDSM, public exhibition, sex toys, anal sex

 

Available from Amazon  Amazon UK  Evernight Bookstrand 

 

Ready for a hawt excerpt?

Going on instinct and the very real need to touch her, Lukas stepped up behind her. Putting his hand over hers on the glass, he grasped her hip with his free hand, and kicking her legs apart with his foot, pulled her flush against him. There was no way on Earth she would miss his raging boner, and, sure enough, another one of those cock hardening groans came from her.

Lukas brought one of his thighs up and between her legs, and it was his turn to groan, as the wet heat of her pussy seared his thigh even through their combined clothing.

“Naughty girl, you’re soaked through.”

He dropped a kiss on the rapidly beating pulse point in her neck, and grazed his teeth along the sensitive flesh. Gooseflesh erupted on Jacqui’s skin, and her hips flexed, as though she was trying to gain purchase on his thigh. When he rubbed that limb up and down her sodden crotch, she gasped, and put her other hand on the glass, too.

“Oh, God.”

Her heartfelt plea only served to make Lukas harder, and grasping her hips with both hands he lifted her up. With her feet dangling off the floor, her whole weight rested on his thigh, and she tensed when he slid her up and down his leg.

Head down, so that her hair obscured her expression, it was still pretty damn obvious that his naughty little dove was fast hurtling toward release, and it was suddenly imperative to Lukas that she did. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought little Miss Goody Two-shoes would be this responsive, and it was fucking hot to witness. As was watching Jake and Lauren, when he flicked a glance over to the action.

“Head up and watch them, little dove.”

Letting go of her hip for a moment, Lukas fisted his hand in Jacqui’s hair. It effectively forced her to look up and see what was going on.

“Oh, fuck.”

He grinned at her response, and resuming his slow slide along her cunt, nuzzled into her neck. “Such language from you, girl. Keep that up, and a spanking won’t be the only thing you’ll get from my hands. Maybe that’s what you want though?”

He pulled back just in time to see Jake reach between him and Lauren, and grasp the end of the butt plug decorating his sub’s ass. He thrust that object in and out of Lauren’s clenching hole with one hand, while he continued fucking her pussy, and Jacqui whimpered.

It made Lukas speed up the friction he created between her legs, and his jeans grew damp with his girl’s arousal. The sweet musk of aroused woman filled his nostrils, and he pressed his advantage.

“Is my naughty girl imagining that was her cunt being fucked?”

Another little mewl escaped her, and Jacqui locked her arms better to push back against him.

Lukas bit down on the perspiration-soaked flesh in front of him, and she gave a strangled groan that made his cock twitch in need.

Soothing the red mark away with his tongue, he yanked her head sideways so that he could kiss her. Her gasp of surprise gave him access, and Lukas grunted his own need when she kissed him back. Hesitant at first and then with ever bolder strokes of her tongue, that meant he had to break the kiss, before he took her right here in the corridor, where anyone would come across them.

While that idea had merit, and his cock was all but screaming at him to claim this woman, he forced himself to pull back.

Breaths seesawing in and out, her corset had slipped with the force of her breathing. It now revealed the edge of her areolae. It made Lukas want to lean down and trace his tongue along the pebbled flesh to coax out the tight nipples poking through their restraints.

He did neither however, just drank in the sight of his woman, and dammit, she was his, even if only for tonight. Face flushed, kiss swollen lips parted, she looked breathtakingly beautiful, and his chest tightened with a rush of emotion he didn’t dare quantify.

“Open your eyes, little dove.”

He grimaced at the rough timbre of his voice, and watched in rapt fascination as her eyelids fluttered open. If he had any doubts about how aroused she was, the evidence was there in her hugely dilated pupils. Only a small ring of blue remained around the outer edges, as she tried to focus on him.

He smiled, and pulled her head back round toward the glass.

A soft, needy, sound escaped her. It was so damn fucking hot, as was the action on the other side of that window.

Lauren shook and shivered, her mouth open in a scream they couldn’t hear, as she was reaching her climax, and the rosy flush of her release could be seen all over her body.

“Oh my God.”

Jacqui’s whisper turned into a groan when Lukas resumed his slide along her cunt, and she jerked. Behind the glass, Jake pulled out the butt plug at the same time as he pulled out of Lauren’s wet cunt. Aligning himself with her gaping butt hole, he thrust in deep.

Jacqui stiffened in front of him as Jake set up a ruthless rhythm. One that Lukas mirrored with his thigh, while he continued to whisper to his girl.

“Imagine that’s you, tied for my pleasure. Your butt is still sore from your spanking, and your cunt well used, while I claim your sweet ass. Ever taken a man up the ass, little dove?”

 

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About Doris

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get.  From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Happily married for the last twenty-seven years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.

 

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“Don’t be shy” #MidWeekTease from THE PERFECT SHOOT

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I would like to start by sending warm thoughts to the family of Kathleen Grieve, who sadly passed away last week.

Kathleen, sweetie, be sure that you are missed and we, among many, are very touched by your loss. Though the MidWeekTeases and SexySnippets won’t be the same without you, they will be an occasion to continue celebrating your memory ❤

  

This week’s tease comes from my favorite romance, the first book of the HOT MODEL MINE series.

*****

Yushka’s fingers move hair aside on my shoulder and tug at my top, exposing skin. “Take this off and get some sun.” When I turn to look at him, he smiles, eyes still shiny. “You’re pale. You’re insanely beautiful, but pale. You need a little tan.”

My heart hammers. His compliment makes me all fluttery inside, but…no way am I taking off my top. One, no matter how sexy my bra is, I don’t want him to notice the size of my breasts—or lack thereof—and two, should someone see me sitting half-naked in the sun with this hunk, rumors will spread like fire.

“C’mon,” he croons, voice low and sweet. “Don’t be shy. I’m not asking you to strip.”

“No.”

He leans forward to plant a kiss on my shoulder, lips scalding my too-hot skin.

The warmth of his sensual gesture makes my heart ache. I whisper, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

I’m at a loss for words.

“There’s something about you,” he says, gaze expectant.

“What?”

“You’re a tigress. A fighter. Hot and smart. When I’m with you, I wanna do crazy things. Not give a fuck about anything.” Again, he tugs at the top, pulling it further down my shoulder, and nibbles at my bra lace with his lips. “You make me forget who I am and where I come from. I just wanna…I don’t know, be with you.”

His words are of those I’ve dreamed of for years, of those I’ve put onto paper during sleepless nights, yet I have no choice but to push him away. I’m not the right one for him. I shake my head. “Don’t.”

Retreating, he grimaces, as if disgusted. “Why do you keep fighting me? What is it? Every time I get near you, you fight me. Do I repel you or something? Do I smell?”

I frown. “No!”

“Or you think I want your money?”

“My money?

“I make enough. Or you think I wanna marry you so I can get a Green Card? I already have one.”

“No!” I raise my voice, shocked that he’d believe such a thing of me.

“So what is it? You keep giving me mixed signals. You want me—don’t deny it—and then you resist, as if I’m not worthy of you or something.”

“You are worthy, of course. What a silly idea.”

“So, let me in.” He leans close again, and before I can move, places his warm lips on mine.

At this incredibly sensual touch, I pull away, but he grabs my chin and holds me in place. Once more, he kisses me, nose-to-nose. The air he exhales brushes my skin. His lips feel so soft and sweet, my insides melt.

It takes all of my strength to refuse him, but I do, leaning back with a sharp intake of air.

Eyes lightening as if I’d just slapped him, he retreats, too. “Why, dammit!”

Fuck, I can’t keep the truth to myself anymore. His honesty deserves an honest answer, however much it will hurt me. Hurt us.

Still tasting him on my lips, I look down at my high-heels and dread his reaction. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m older than you.”

As in much older. A lot older. Way older. So many ways to describe a simple truth.

“I know,” he whispers behind me, “but I don’t care.”

Copyright (c) 2014 Lea Bronsen

  
 

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When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously goodlooking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits…

  
 

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*****

Thanks for stopping by!

Be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing Mid-Week Tease Blog

  
 

PRE-ORDER! Joy to His World (The Love Play Matchmaking Service 2) by Clare Dargin

Congratulations to Clare Dargin on your new release!


 

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AVAILABLE: Tuesday, May 23rd

  

Chris Spinell, Jilly Reimers, and Chris ‘Nate’ Poole are happily married. Now, living in a small town run by The Love Play Matchmaking Service, Chris Spinell hopes his family is safely away from the possible dangers that come from living in a big city. 

Jilly and Nate cherish the life they have with Chris. They even love the fact that he is their Dom. BDSM gives them the structure and sense of belonging they’ve always wanted. However, life in Minaqua doesn’t give Chris the peace of mind he needs in order to quell his anxieties. The scars from his time in Afghanistan run so deep, Chris’ PTSD will not allow him to escape the fears that his family is at constant risk for harm. 

When a stranger comes to town seeking to harm Jilly and Nate, Chris’ protective instincts are put to the test. Will he deal with this reasonably, or will he do whatever it takes to defend his family, including breaking a solemn oath?

 
 

Excerpt

“Tell me what you want, sweet stuff,” Chris said to Nate.

“Dueño, I want you to fuck me hard,” Nate said. “And I want to fuck Jilly-Bean and fill her tight pussy with my cum.”

“Very good, sweet stuff. That pleases me. Present yourself to me,” Chris said.

Nate opened his legs further, exposing his cock and balls to Chris. His cock jutted upward and twitched.

“Do you like being my submissive?” Chris asked.

Nate’s mouth fell open. His eyes became partially lidded. He groaned with a hint of agony in his tone. “Yes, Dueño. Serving you makes me hard.”

“You keep me hard. Do you know that? You like keeping your owner hard?”

He nodded, and his eyes rolled backward. Chris knew his man was already starting to soar into subspace.

“Jilly-Bean, stand up,” Chris said.

She stood.

“Come to Dueño and suck my dick until I tell you to stop.”

She latched onto him. He fisted her hair and pulled her head away from his cock, craning her head back, exposing her creamy flesh. He hissed as he relished the satiny feel of her mouth as it enveloped his penis. There was something about the way she sucked his dick that made him want to lose control.

“Up, Jilly-Bean.” He let go of her hair and helped her to her feet. “Go to the bed and lay on your stomach, legs apart and ass up. Nate, do not touch yourself.”

Nate whimpered.

Though his dick was wet from her saliva, Chris grabbed the lube off the nightstand. He flipped the cap and placed some on his fingers and spread it liberally around her anus and inside of it.

“Your ass is so perfect. I can’t believe I’ve had the honor and pleasure of fucking it.”

He parted the globes of her ass and placed the rounded tip of his cock at her tight hole. He growled as he slid inside of her. She clenched the muscles in her pussy and grunted.

She puffed. “Yes, Dueño, more.” She was a pain slut in her own way.

He pushed in harder and then pulled back. “Please, again.”

He grasped her hips and slammed into her. His hips took on a mind of their own and they seemed to have one goal in mind, mate his woman like this was his one and only opportunity. She whimpered, unable to control the small thrusting movements of her hips as he filled her. His balls slapped against her with the force of his movement. She wiggled her hips and cried out. She was close. He slammed harder into her ass and bent forward, massaging her clit as she begged for permission to come. Every nerve galvanized his body for one reason, to shoot his cum deep inside of her. He grimaced as the maddening pain radiated up from his dick to his eyes, nearly blinding him. He was ready.

“Oh God, come, baby,” he said.

Her back arched then her hips bucked. Her ass clenched, squeezing his dick. He lost control and growled and came hard. He closed his eyes tight and his mind went blank as euphoria swept through him. He grunted then trembled as the last bit of cum spurted out of him.

He collapsed on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. The fog that had clouded his mind slowly lifted, letting him come back to his senses. He nuzzled the crook of her neck, adoring her sweet fragrance that mingled with his. This type of intimacy had been alien to him before he met them. Sex had been pleasurable but not satisfying, and it made him wonder if there was anything more to it than a quick romp in the sack. It was never an issue with them.

Nate. His love was patiently awaiting his turn. Chris ran his hands up and down her body and kissed her neck.

“Go the center of the bed and lie on your back then spread your legs,” he said whispering in her ear.

* * * *

Jilly did as she was told. She loved obeying Dueño. His mastery over her body and her heart made her feel loved and protected. Not to mention he was so hot that she felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have a man like him in love with her. A little over six feet two, Chris’s short-cut light brown hair, lean angular torso with toned limbs and blue eyes made him look like the boy next door had grown up to be a heart-stopping gorgeous man.

Most people only had one partner who made them swoon. She had two. Nate was her Aussie blond thunder whose voice was a deep baritone and body she likened to a Greek god. For the longest time, he wore his hair long and pulled back into a pony tail, giving him a carefree look that added to his sex appeal whether he knew it or not. Now, he wore it short and trimmed like Chris.

She laid down and opened her legs. She felt the bed dip as Nate crawled onto it. He loomed over her, and his eyes simmered with lust. While Chris was her Master, Nate was her sweet Sir.

 
 

Buy Link

http://www.bookstrand.com/book/joy-to-his-world

 
 

Blog Links

Clare’s Blog 2: The Haven- https://claresblog2thehaven.blogspot.com

The Embraced: Scribal Love- https://theembraced.blogspot.com

 
 

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Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/clare.dargin

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To Claim a Mate by Jennifer Denys

Congratulations to Jennifer Denys on your new release!


 

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Publisher: Luminosity Publishing

Genre: Contemporary, Wolf shifter, gay, BDSM

Type: Novella (21,600 words)

Sexual orientation: MM

 
 

Cole Linley is a gay wolf-shifter. In order to appease the Alpha within, he has taken up the BDSM lifestyle and become very experienced. This placates his wolf to a certain extent, but his dearest wish is to find a mate—male, of course. Except, the question is, how to find one in a city surrounded by humans where other wolf-shifters are rare.

Then, one night, he enters Balls & Chains, a BDSM club he frequents, and immediately senses another of his kind. And not only that, it is the scent of a potential mate, Jared Gray. There is only one problem—Jared is collared by another Master.

Jared’s relationship shows all the signs of an abusive relationship. Can Cole get him away from the other Dom and show Jared the delights of BDSM when done properly and what it means to be a beta wolf to Cole’s Alpha?

  

Reader Advisory: The submissive in this Gay Paranormal Romance doesn’t realize he is in an abusive relationship until he meets his true Master.

 
 

What’s hot?

Making love in the forest as wolves, then in the bed as humans.

  

Buy links:

Luminosity / Amazon UK / Amazon US

 

Excerpt:

Moving on, Cole was drawn into a room which had a cross in each corner of the room with plenty of space to wield the equipment. The walls were covered with floggers of varying types, although nothing stopped a Dominant using an implement from another section.

Cole halted. He’s here.

The scent was at its strongest, practically dragging him toward a slender man in his late twenties, with brown hair the color of hazelnuts. The sub was in the process of being tied face up against a cross on the far side. His chest was bare and sleek, and he wore skin-tight jeans.

The Dom wanted to rip the man’s clothes off and devour him on the spot. So intent was he on reaching his prey, he nearly missed the Master who had finished tying the submissive and came around to inspect the restraints, standing directly between Cole and the object of his hunt.

Stopping in his tracks, Cole’s hackles began to rise. A possessive instinct rose in him to fight off his rival. Except there were rules in BDSM and it didn’t include tearing out the throat of another Master.

Andy caught up with him and saw him staring. “Who have you found? Oh, this is Master Dirk. Jared is the sub he is playing with.”

Cole took a moment to calm his inner wolf, unclenching his fists before he triggered his claws. His voice was raspy as he asked, “Are they new? I don’t recall seeing either of them here before.” Actually, he couldn’t care less about this new Master. He only had eyes for Jared.

He didn’t hear Andy’s answer, because, at that moment, he caught the gaze of the bound man. Tangible electricity crossed the room and hit Cole like a silver bullet, slamming into his heart, nearly causing him to change into his wolf in front of everyone. It took everything he knew about Dominance to keep hold of his human side and push down his animal half.

Meanwhile, the submissive’s eyes opened wide in shock, and he bit his lip. Cole’s keen wolf eyesight could detect Jared’s fierce trembling, as he tightly gripped the ropes that held him. Cole willed him to hold on and not transform in front of everyone as the two shared a look of instant attraction, desperate need, and the desire to have sex.

And yet it was more than that. So much more—an inner knowledge, assurance one has finally found one’s other half, and didn’t even know one was looking.

Taking a deep breath, Cole narrowed his eyes as he gazed on Jared, drinking in the beautiful sight before him.

He gave a slight smile of acknowledgment.

Oh yes, this is my mate. And woe betide anyone who comes between us.

 
 

Author bio: 

Jen new blog picJennifer is a bestselling author in various genre (BDSM, contemporary, sci-fi, paranormal, with historical and fantasy in her works in progress) with several different publishers.

An Englishwoman through and through, she lives in a beautiful historical city and is game to try most things once. She’s had a tattoo done on her calf, flew down zip wires 100 feet up in the trees, and was photographed nude by a professional photographer. All of which have taken place since she turned 50!

Many of her experiences end up in her books… but you will have to read them to find out what!

Do contact Jennifer – she loves to hear from her fans. She posts to her blog three times a week and is on Facebook daily.

 

Author links:

Blog/website – http://jennifer-denys.blogspot.com/

Email – Jennifer.denys@yahoo.com

Facebook – http://facebook.com/JenniferDenys

Twitter – http://twitter.com/JenniferDenys

  

“In your face, bitch” #MidWeekTease from WILD HEARTED

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Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to the lovely Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases 🙂

This week’s tease comes from my first baby WILD HEARTED, a dirty inner-city crime thriller. The tease isn’t so much about romance this time, but it shows the wealth of feelings that ruthless crime lord Tomor has for his girl Luz, and to what lengths he is willing to go to get her back. In this scene, he visits Luz’ grandmother.

*****

 
Tomor stood on the porch of a small wooden house situated only a few blocks from Luz’ apartment. A strange mix of excitement and worry tightened his chest as he knocked on the heavy wood door.

Seconds ticked before a lock turned and the door opened slightly. He recognized the old woman with the chignon through the small opening.

“You!” Her venomous sneer hissed. She didn’t even try to hide her profound contempt.

He studied the chains that held back the door—not just one, but three. One at the bottom, one above the lock, and the last so high up the scarecrow probably had to stand on her toes to unlock it. Even the cops wouldn’t be able to ram this open. Did she always keep her door triple-locked, or had she sensed him coming and barricaded herself?

The chains left enough space for the old woman to peek through, showing only half her face, wrinkled and spotted. But he didn’t need to see both snake eyes to feel her glower.

Fuck. Receiving so much hatred from another person and not doing anything about it wasn’t his style, but he had to make a good impression and say the right words from the start. Stay calm and pretend to be nice. Going home empty-handed wasn’t an option.

He steeled himself. “I’m looking for Luz.” He kept his voice soft, not out of submission, but honest intent, as though offering his hand and hoping the old woman would accept to shake it.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” the bat sneered.

I knew you’d say that, bitch.

He would opt for a more submissive tone, then. Perhaps letting her believe she had the power to deny him what he wanted would make her think she could give it to him, too. He offered a sincere, friendly look, and forced himself to keep his voice smooth. “I need your help. You’re the only one who knows where she is.”

The old woman squinted and shook her head with a grimace. “I’ll never do such a thing!”

“But don’t you want her to be happy? When I get the chance to talk to her, she will be, I know.”

“Nonsense. She’ll never want to talk to you.” She added in a spiteful tone, “And I don’t want you sneaking around my house. Go away.”

Seeing a flash in her eyes and a tiny movement of her body, he quickly put a boot in the door opening.

The bat jerked back and quacked. “I will call the police!”

He resisted the urge to swivel and scan the street. If he checked it for witnesses, he would confirm her suspicions and make her more determined to get rid of him. Besides, what could he do if someone was indeed watching the scene? Kill them?

Stay calm, for fuck’s sake.

He threw out his hands. “All right, fair enough. I know I’ve behaved like a jerk, and I’m sorry. I am. But you know, you didn’t really give me a chance.”

The old woman glared.

He added, “I understand why you don’t like me, with the way I look and all, and you’ll never understand me, we’re worlds apart. But the funny thing is that Luz and me, despite all that’s between us”—he spread out his hands again—“we have a special bond.” He smiled, brought a hand to his heart, and patted it.

The old woman squinted. “Ha! She never cared for you.”

Tomor cocked his head, beckoned her. “C’mon, be honest. You saw us together.”

A flicker of insecurity shone in her eyes, as though she didn’t know how to react.

He waited.

After a moment, she nodded, and the door handle made a small squeak. She’d kept her hand on it the whole time.

That’s good. Very good.

He made a triumphant smile and removed his boot from the door opening. “So you know I’m telling the truth.”

The scarecrow shook her head with such vigor its chignon moved sideways. She pointed a wrinkled, red nail-polished finger at him through the opening. “She specifically asked me not to tell you.”

Ah shit…

His chest tightened with renewed hurt, and he stood immobile for a moment, trying to hide his emotions. But he couldn’t give up. “Listen.” He sighed from the load, the pressure. “Luz saved my life.”

“She made me promise—”

“Remember the bandages you saw?” He opened his jacket, lifted the shirt, turned his flank toward her, and pointed to the incision Luz made and the three pink, oval scars surrounded by tiny stitch marks.

The old woman squinted through the door opening, gasped aloud, and covered her mouth.

In your face, bitch!

He smirked. “She extracted a bullet from here—” He pointed at the straight pinkish line on the back of his ribs. “Then she stitched me up. Nice job, eh?”

Stunned with shock, the old woman stared at his ugly scars. “Dear God! My Luz did that?”

He nodded and let his shirt slide down. “That’s how much she cared for me. Now, help me take care of her.”

He was willing to plead and say he couldn’t go on living without the girl—another first, sweetie—when the scarecrow unlocked the chains, one by one, and opened the door to let him in.

 

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Tomor—a gang leader accustomed to a hard life on the outskirts of society—is a shrewd, ruthless bastard with a price on his head. He lives a lonely life, and that suits him just fine… until the day a traitor in his ranks betrays him to the police. After a shootout that nearly kills him, Tomor is saved by a young woman who hides him from the cops. Though he should be more concerned with the traitor who set him up, he can’t get the gorgeous girl out of his head—or shake the feeling she can fill the emptiness that has become a way of life.

Luz has survived her boring, lonely existence thanks to her two best friends: photography and alcohol. But her world shifts on the night a breathless man approaches her, asking for help. From his wild hair to his stony expression, he reeks of trouble. And he sends a shiver up her spine—one that makes her burn with excitement for the first time in her life.

After a lifetime of lonely hell, Tomor and Luz might just be able to save each other… if Tomor’s past doesn’t kill them first.

 

excerpt(adult material)

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*****

 

Thanks for stopping by!

Be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing Mid-Week Tease Blog

 

Missing the Crown Jewels (Chandler County) by Valerie J. Clarizio

Congratulations to Valerie J. Clarizio on your new release!


 
 

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After a devastating divorce, Peyton Crown is finally surfacing from a dark hole of despair. She finds herself hoping for a new life with Mason ‘Storm’ Starr, her brother’s best friend. 

Storm’s intent is simple: hide in the quiet confines of his best friend’s family horse ranch in Kentucky. The perfect place to sort out his life after walking away from the Army, and fight his internal demons. His solitude is interrupted by his buddy’s little sister. The chemistry between them is off the charts, and he willing surrenders the battle. 

The Crown family begins receiving threats, just weeks before the Kentucky Derby. The overprotective men in Peyton’s life vow to keep 24/7 tabs on her and the family’s prize horse—Prince Bourbonville—a hopeful for the next Triple Crown. Circumstances arise that threaten to keep Peyton and Prince away from the derby, but Storm and her brother Coach are determined they’ll attend, no matter the sacrifice.

 
 

Buy Links:

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

 
 

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Excerpt:

His large, warm hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her to him. His erection pressed against her belly. She wanted it pressing somewhere else but was determined to let him set the pace.
When he pulled his tongue from her mouth, it took a great deal of strength not to grab hold of it and suck it back in. His lips moved across her jawline, to the sensitive skin below her ear. The sensations ripping through her when he nibbled on her earlobe weakened her knees. One of his arms tightened around her waist while the other slid fluidly over her back. He gripped the zipper, allowing his fingers to skim a blazing path along her skin as he slid it down.
Storm stepped back and peeled her dress from her. It pooled at her feet. His gaze raked over her. “You’re so beautiful.”
Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.
His gaze lowered to her breasts and he licked his lips. She wanted that tongue on her, on her breasts, flicking over her nipples. They tightened at the thought.
Reaching forward, Storm touched his fingertip lightly to the lace rim of her bra; then he traced it across both her breasts. Moisture pooled in her panties. With his thumb and forefinger he undid the clasp between her breasts and they sprung free of the garment. In an instant, his hands cupped them, then kneaded. Electricity sparked through her veins. He backed her up until her calves touched the bed. He released her breasts and yanked his shirt over his head, as she worked the button and zipper to his jeans.
In the next breath, they were lying in his bed. Exactly where she wanted to be. His slow hands moved over her, lighting up every cell in her body. With one hand, he kneaded a breast as his mouth tortured—teased—the other. When his tongue circled and flicked over her nipple, she moaned in pleasure.
He pulled his hot mouth from her breast, and his other hand stilled. His dark gaze met hers. “You’re so receptive.”
Yeah, she was, because he was that damn good. Not that she’d been with many men, only three prior to Storm. Two college boyfriends, her ex-husband, and now Storm—her soul mate. None of the three caused her to react, need, or desire on this level. The passion flowing through her veins was thrilling, invigorating, unmeasurable.
Storm moved his hand lower and splayed it over her stomach only briefly before lowering it even farther. He cupped her wet mound then dipped a finger into her. She arched when the second finger entered. Her breath held when he pressed his thumb against her already sensitive bundle of nerves. She let it out as he circled around the nub. Her body heated, blood nearly boiling in her veins. Her breaths came quicker. His unwavering gaze darkening as he held hers. She’d never looked a man in the eyes this way, while being pleasured. It was intense, breathtaking, almost unbearable, yet she couldn’t look away if she tried.
Raw need spurted through her. “Storm, I need you in me.”
He reached over her and pulled a condom from the nightstand and sheathed himself, then he positioned his large frame over her. The depth of his gaze intensified as he slid himself into her. Long, slow strokes filled her. Her hands explored his hard muscles and soft skin. How could he be so hard and soft at the same time? Each deep stroke brought her closer to paradise. The sensations ripping through her heightened. Loving the feel of them, she tried to hold back, wanting to prolong them for as long as possible even with the knowledge that the peak would be sensational. She was selfish that way. She wanted it all.
His long strokes were coming quicker. Her hips met his every thrust. Her mind spun out of control. Her vision blurred. Intense, pleasurable vibrations ripped through her, leaving her breathless. Storm drove into her again, his body tensed. He groaned with his release and collapsed onto her molten body.
Still shocked by the potency of her orgasm, she lay still, trying to catch her breath.
Storm’s rapid breathing caressed her ear. The beat of his heart thudded pleasantly against her chest. She wondered if he could feel hers, too.
He rolled off her, pulling her along with him and she tucked herself in the curve of his arm. Though unspoken, his love surrounded her, comforted her, had her for life.

 

About the Author:

Clarizio Photo (1)

Valerie Clarizio lives in romantic Door County Wisconsin with her husband and two extremely spoiled cats. She loves to read, write, and spend time at her cabin in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

She’s lived her life surrounded by men, three brothers, a husband, and a male Siamese cat who required his own instruction manual. Keeping up with all the men in her life has turned her into an outdoors enthusiast, of which her favorite activity is hiking in national parks. While out on the trails, she has plenty of time to conjure up irresistible characters and unique storylines for her next romantic suspense or sweet contemporary romance novel.

 

Author’s Social Media links

Website/Blog: https://valclarizio.wordpress.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Valerie.Clarizio/

Facebook Street Team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/clarizioscronies/

Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/valerie-j-clarizio

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/VClarizio

Google+:  https://plus.google.com/u/0/100928949465109415957/posts

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/valerieclarizio/

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bn6QoD

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Valerie-J.-Clarizio/e/B00A87RJVS/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_8?qid=1476915213&sr=8-8

 

 

 

The nerve! #SexySnippet from DARK CAPTIVE MANLOVE

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Happy Sunday! Here are seven lines from my story GET OFF HARD in the dark erotic manlove anthology DARK CAPTIVE.

In this scene, the young, feisty hockey player Ricky has just hit ex-champ Slay in the jaw.

*****

 

He looms over me with clenched fists, his muscular body trembling and ready to give me some more.

Regaining my cool, I palm my sore jaw and grin in pure admiration. The nerve! He fucking punched me, the son of a bitch. Who would’ve thought!

And to be very honest … I gotta admit I like it. The pain radiating from my bruised jaw and this punk’s insanely bold act have my dick stirring in my pants.

 

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Everyone has a dark side…

Dark Captive is an exclusive collection of dark erotic romance stories featuring alpha men with fierce sexual appetites. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want. And they have their sights on one man. Possessive and bold, these heroes give their conquests exactly what they crave—to be taken … to be owned. Any resistance offered will be tested, but in the end love rules.

Kidnapping, abduction, and sexual slavery are just a few of the titillating taboo themes in this hand-picked manlove anthology.

Be Warned: m/m sex, BDSM, forced seduction, spanking.

 

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*****

 

Catch the other #SexySnippets here!

Sexy Snippets are seven sentences, taken from a work in progress, or published book, brought to you every Sunday.

Have Fun!

 

Unnatural Allies (Shifting Alliances #2) by Shari Elder

Congratulations to Shari Elder on your new release!


 

Thank you so much for having me on your blog. I’m very excited to share Unnatural Allies, Book Two in the paranormal romance series, Shifting Alliances. Although part of a series, it can be read as a stand-alone novel.

Unnatural Allies (Shifting Alliances Book 2)
By: Shari Elder
Genre: M/F Paranormal Romance
Release Date:
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Blurb

A World in Transition
Violent fae encroachment on shifter land is heating up. With death tolls rising, the impossible becomes necessary – an alliance among predator and prey shifters.

An Inconceivable Love
Nicca Baron, lone wolf and wolf clan beta, finds herself under the command of Evan Grant, the rat alpha. In different circumstances, he’d be dinner. Or so her wolf keeps reminding her. Evan proves to be a perceptive leader, a skilled fighter and irresistible to her lonely heart.

To rule the rats, you have to rule the pack. Evan is a whiz at managing people and groups. Until he finds himself leading a mission made up of every single large animal that thrives on rat flesh. And not the kind between his legs. The only bright light is Nicca. Her storm gray eyes miss nothing, her brilliant mind comprehends everything and her succulent curves offer the perfect place for a rat to nestle.

An Impossible Future
In each other’s arms, Nicca and Evan discover love and a new perspective in an off-kilter world. But a wolf cannot mate with a rat, no matter the strength of the human attraction.

Buy Links

Amazon

Evernight

Bookstrand

Excerpt

Evan had never seen Nicca look frightened before. Those silver eyes expanded into saucers, and they were still beautiful. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, just hold her close as they both tried to process a world spinning out of control. Even his rat wanted to comfort her.
She was getting under skin and fur.
The last leaves hung limp on the branches, resisting winter’s pull. Away from the sidhe, the air had warmed, although the sky retained a grayish winter hue. Shifter bodies held heat, keeping them comfortable in the most brutal frost. Evan burned hot from continuous movement, the too frequent adrenaline spikes, and Nicca’s nearness. Everything about her fit, like she was made for him. That agile mind, open-mindedness, those lush curves. Hell, she even spouted poetry. He yearned to put a sign around her neck—no trespassing, this woman belongs to Evan Grant.
Except for that whole wolf thing…
“Why don’t we find a comfortable place to set up camp near Fairy Falls and call it a day?” he said to get his mind back to practical things, not wishing for something he couldn’t have. He told himself he selected the location as part of the mission. All species declared the pristine, wild falls a safe zone, so they wouldn’t need the wolves or eagles to stand guard. The fact that it was the number one rated site for shifter romances had nothing to do with the selection. Nothing at all.
No one would ever accuse Nicca of talking too much, but she was withdrawn even for her on the hike to the Falls. “Any suggestions on places to sleep?” he asked when her silence got too loud for him.
“I’ve, uh, never really been here,” she whispered, looking at the ground. “Just run by it on patrols sometimes.”
“And that makes you sad?” He itched to run his hand down her cheek.
“This mission makes me sad.” Her gaze stayed lowered as she walked.
His rat senses perceived a deep despondency wrapped around her like a black aura.
“This mission makes you angry, anxious, and confused. Not sad.”
“Who are you to correct my assessment of my emotional state?” She gave him a half-hearted snarl. He figured he’d hit an open, raw nerve.
“I lead this mission, and I will not have you fall apart on me. Right now, you are not okay.” He opened his arm, aping Rafe’s earlier action, inviting her to him to take comfort. “Let me help.” Let me touch you.
She visibly shook herself, ignoring his outstretched limb. “You’re right. I need space. Let me run as wolf.”
He dropped his hand, then nodded to cover the ripping sound his heart was making. “Stay close,” he said over the lump of disappointment lodged in his throat. “Give me your backpack, and I’ll find a place to sleep. Meet me at the falls when you’re done.”
Relief brightened her eyes. Once shifted, she brushed against his leg, then licked at his hand dangling by his side. He ran his fingers through her thick, gray fur touched with black and silver as she trotted off. “Grab some happy, Nicca,” he said into the air, as she raced out of sight. Come back to me. Accept me.
Alone, he hummed as he walked toward the falls. The low tune soothed his skittish rat, who hated being alone and wasn’t too fond of the woods. Rats felt secure in the pack. The human in him appreciated the red gold of the sunset streaking across the powder blue of the sky, weaving in and out of spiky, hunter green firs that ate up the landscape. Beauty truly did soothe an aching heart. The whirr of winter birds, a chorus to his ears, unnerved the rat. He picked up his pace, following the smell of ice and the roar of the falling water.
When he arrived at the falls, he saw Nicca standing at the edge of the descending water, running her fingers through the stream. That sadness he’d sensed earlier scented the air and dulled those unique gray eyes. Following a powerful intuition, he approached quietly, staying upwind so she wouldn’t notice until he stood directly behind her. She may have rejected his offer of support earlier, but he was determined to try again. His way.
She turned to face him, and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. He pushed behind one ear a lock of hair that was draped along her cheek. The tresses felt like silk, the skin velvet against his fingertips.
“Evan?”
He leaned over, touching lips to lips ever so gently. Giving comfort. Sneaking a taste. Exploring what might be. She pressed back, her mouth opening slightly beneath his. He sank into cherry and cinnamon, shyness and heat. She didn’t require a friend; she needed a lover. He desperately wanted to be that man.
He pulled back, falling hard for the blush staining her cheeks a bright pink.
“Follow me,” he said, taking her hand, and led her to the camping spot he noticed along the way.
To love a wolf.

About Shari Elder

Hello, I’m Shari. By day, I crawl out of bed, mainline coffee, walk the dog, get my kid off to school, hop on the metro, and save cities within the four walls of my office. Usually by email.

At night, the other Shari emerges. I take off the suit, curl up on the couch and let my imagination play, with words and images until stories take shape (while periodically checking on my teen-ager, hiding out in the bedroom and plotting world domination). As my alter ego, I save cities in a cape and spangled tights, wander space and time on a surfboard, fly over the Himalayas on feathered wings, make six-toed footprints in indigo talc snow on the sixth planet in the Andromeda galaxy or eavesdrop on Olympian gods while pretending to whip up a bowl of ambrosia.

In all these wondrous worlds, romance and passion blossom. I can’t resist a happy ending. And I am particularly prone to writing happy endings for those who have given up on ever getting one. That gives me immense satisfaction.

Join me on my journey. The best ideas emerge from team work.

Hang out with Shari on the Web

Website – www.sharielder.com
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/ShariElderStories/
Twitter – https://twitter.com/ShariElderBooks
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/ShariElder
Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/ShariElderBooks/

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The book of his life, carved into his body #MidWeekTease from WILD HEARTED

 

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Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to the lovely Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases 🙂

This week’s tease comes from my first baby, the crime thriller WILD HEARTED.

*****

 

Luz awoke with a start, mind full of horrific images. Trembling human flesh, livid and moistened; her shaking hand inserting a long, metallic tool into a gaping hole, searching, poking while a stream of red-black blood poured hot and liquid between her clumsy fingers…

Her heart galloped in her chest as she stared at the ceiling, going through the pictures and sorting, tagging, rationalizing them.

It’s not a nightmare. It happened minutes ago, hours maybe. I don’t know.

Dim morning light crept in through the curtains, lighting the room. The digital clock on her bed table showed 9:27 am. Ah, so late. She’d slept like a hibernating bear.

The unusual hardness of a silver ring on her hand triggered a surge of gratitude and affection to her throat, and warm tears to her eyes.

She hadn’t decided whether she wanted to keep the ring yet, but if she did, she had to choose which memories to associate with it. The blood, the stress, the man’s fear—or the very moment he looked into her eyes and gave her his most precious belonging, expressing dedication and confidence.

Tomor’s ruffled sheets next to hers brought back the memory of her first night of sleep beside a man.

But he’s in no shape to move! Where has he gone?

She jumped out of bed and hurried into the living room. The bleached-haired guy lay asleep with his back to her on the couch, snoring, a leather jacket covering his torso.

Without a sound, she opened the door to the bathroom.

Tomor lay in the tub, pinkish water up to his shoulders and black locks floating around. The bandages hung loose and thin filets of blood seeped out from the three exposed bullet holes. He greeted her with a huge grin, visibly high on something. “Hi, sweetie!”

The guilty whiskey bottle lay on the floor beside the tub.

She gasped. “What’ve you done?”

He only laughed, glassy eyes darting behind long, wet hair stuck to his face.

“Don’t you know you can catch an infection, stupid?”

Tomor’s radiant black eyes sharpened. “Eh, be nice.”

“You can’t even shower after a surgery! Why didn’t you wake me first?”

He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the tub. His large chest tensed and heaved, creating quick, panicky waves in the water. He had to be in pain.

“All right, let’s get you out.” Trying to calm, she pulled out the plug at his feet and realized the terrible coldness of the water. How long had he laid in here?

Since he was too drunk to get up on his own, she grabbed his nearest arm with both hands and tried to pull him up. He was mostly dead weight and not really helping. After more fruitless efforts, she put a knee on the side of the tub for leverage and slipped her arms under his—when he mischievously grabbed her waist and threatened to pull her down to him.

Ah! Unbalanced, she made a small squeal while the bastard held her right above water surface, breath full of booze and raspy laughter.

With a scream of anger, she put her hands on the sides of the tub and pushed hard to free herself until he released her. She got away from the tub, and, finding only one way to deal with him, bent to his eye level. “Get a fucking grip on yourself!”

Tomor blinked. “Hey, watch your tongue.”

“Get out of the tub! If you don’t, I’ll have to wake your friend and get him in here.”

“He’s not a friend, he works for me.”

“Then I’ll have to get your employee to help me.”

“His name’s Larsen.”

“Get out!”

“I love you, too, babe.” He held her stare for another beat, before reaching out a hand with a small smile.

“Jesus.” She grabbed it and pulled hard.

He made an effort and finally eased out of the tub. Water ran down his big, naked body, making puddles on the tiled floor. A large, black and blue bruise spread outward from the stitched bullet holes like cancer, and he shivered. He lifted his hands to his head and locked the fingers behind. “You’re free to do whatever you want to.”

“Get lost.” Avoiding his playful grin, she dried him with a towel, fastened it around his waist, and grabbed the first aid kit.

After disinfecting each hole and applying clean bandages, she repeated the procedure on the knife wound above his left nipple. It looked a bit out of place, raw and red on the mat of white scar tissue covering his muscular chest and arms. “What’s this?”

He peeked down and shrugged. “Someone disagreed with me.”

“Hmm…and what happened to him?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“And the old ones?”

He made a broad smile and refused to answer. As he swayed a little, he put a hand on the wall to steady himself.

Luz studied him for a moment, and brushed strands of black hair away from his eyes. “Not sure I like this, what you do.”

“What I do?”

“Your profession.”

He grinned. “Never asked you to like it. Just like me, baby.”

“I find that sort of hard today.”

He smirked. “If you could get me hard, you’d make my day.”

“Oh, stop it. I’ve had enough of your shit.”

Sighing, he shrugged again. “It’s them or me.”

“What?”

He took her warm hand and put it on his shivering chest. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he guided her fingers around and helped her feel the raised scars on his skin.

Some were long and straight, others zigzagging. Some thin, barely visible white lines on the surface, while a few deep ones, stitched clumsily, left ugly chasms in his skin. This was his history, the book of his life, carved into his body. Each scar a chapter, each an intention to kill him, and ultimately a victory because he came out of it alive. How many times had he cheated death?

Shaking her head, she whispered, “As long as you only get the bad guys.”

“Oh, we have codes.” He smiled, opened his mischievous black eyes, and brought her hand up to his mouth to nibble on a finger. She tried to pull it back, but he held her hand tight with a loaded stare, kept his teeth closed on the finger, and rolled his hot, wet tongue around it before allowing her to slip it out.

Copyright (c) 2013 Lea Bronsen

  

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Tomor—a gang leader accustomed to a hard life on the outskirts of society—is a shrewd, ruthless bastard with a price on his head. He lives a lonely life, and that suits him just fine… until the day a traitor in his ranks betrays him to the police. After a shootout that nearly kills him, Tomor is saved by a young woman who hides him from the cops. Though he should be more concerned with the traitor who set him up, he can’t get the gorgeous girl out of his head—or shake the feeling she can fill the emptiness that has become a way of life.

Luz has survived her boring, lonely existence thanks to her two best friends: photography and alcohol. But her world shifts on the night a breathless man approaches her, asking for help. From his wild hair to his stony expression, he reeks of trouble. And he sends a shiver up her spine—one that makes her burn with excitement for the first time in her life.

After a lifetime of lonely hell, Tomor and Luz might just be able to save each other… if Tomor’s past doesn’t kill them first.

  

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Wild Hearted is available in paperback!

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