Congratulations to Jewel Quinlan on your new release!
The Cougar Journals Book 3
To get away from the pressures of work, Ava takes a last-minute cruise to the Greek islands by herself. But on the ship she runs into the coworker she despises the most, John Montgomery. Somehow he has a knack for driving her mad, and seeing him with his hot young date makes Ava feel even worse about herself. Meanwhile, sexy young steward Florian has been making passes at her, reminding her of how beautiful and alive she really is. Will Ava allow her loneliness to be chased away and desires fulfilled by a much younger man one more time?
I looked up to see Florian smiling down at me. “Oh my gosh, what are you doing here? I thought you had the day off again.”
He was wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt with the ship’s logo on it. The dark fabric made his own natural coloring stand out even more. He sat down on the edge of my lounger near my hip, seeming pleased I’d noticed his absence.
“Normally I would have the day off, but a friend of mine is sick and I’m covering his shift.” His eyes swept over my body as he spoke, and the glint of appreciation I saw in them made me feel good.
“Thanks again for your company yesterday,” I said in a low voice.
He smiled. “My pleasure.”
The tone of our simple words exchanged even more meaning between us. Having been single for so long I’d become a master of deciphering tone, and his was telling me he’d had the time of his life. He was so damn cute.
“So what can I get you? You look thirsty, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I left you that way.” He was leaning toward me, his small round tray forgotten on the deck beside him.
I put an arm underneath my head and removed my sunglasses so I could make better eye contact. “What would you recommend?” My suggestive tone made his eyebrows rise and his cheeks dimple in pleasure.
Even though he was young and a member of the staff, I allowed myself to respond to his attentions. The pang of loneliness I felt at seeing John and Kim together reared its ugly head. What was wrong with getting a little attention? Why not have some fun on this trip? People flirted with each other all the time. And it was my turn to throw off my conservative chains and flex my sexy muscle.
He frowned as though deep in thought, considering the question. Then he exhaled and pointed at me. “You look like the kind of woman who enjoys not only fine wine but great gin as well. Our bartender makes a cocktail I think you would like. Not too sweet and just the right amount of tartness to it.” He said it the way car aficionados described legendary Porsches. I knew right away he was talking about himself.
He had it right on the nose. That was exactly my style. “I’ll give it a try.” My hand was on the chair next to his leg, and I fingered the bare, firm flesh of his thigh. I blamed my earlier glass of champagne for my loosened inhibitions. I sat forward and leaned in close to him. “Maybe the next time you’re off, we can hang out again.”
His eyes widened with pleasure. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone else cut in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to see if I could order a couple of drinks.”
I turned my head to see John Montgomery standing behind my chair. From the amused look on his face, he’d heard everything I said. Mortification laced through me.
Florian jumped up. “Of course.”
John gave him his order, and Florian went to the bar. Then it was just John and me.
“Having fun, Ava?” He lifted a brow.
His eyes were hidden under the dark sunglasses he wore, but I got the meaning, the bastard. He was trying to embarrass me for flirting with Florian. I huffed at him and opened my magazine again, refusing to take the bait.
He tried again. “He’s a little young for you, isn’t he?”
“Hm. I think he’s the same age as Kim actually. If you don’t think that’s too young then I certainly don’t.” I allowed the sweet sound of disdain to roll off my lips, then I flipped over onto my stomach, excusing him.
He gave a soft chuckle. But he got the hint because he walked away.
About the Author:
Restless by nature, Jewel Quinlan is an avid traveler and has visited 16 countries so far. Lover of ice cream, beer, and red wine she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer concocting another tale. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German and play with her spoiled Chihuahua; Penny.
I’m a Joss Whedon fan girl. Two of my favorite sci-fi shows of all time are Firefly and Dollhouse. I also have to confess the little muse in my head kept on badgering me and ultimately pushed me to writing a rough outline of Merchandise right after finishing my fourth run of Firefly.
There’s just something compelling and fun about the space opera genre— limitless possibilities of world building, alien species with extra juicy bits, and inventing gadgets with wacky names. Merchandise was born from the desire to write a hot menage set in space, with a twist in the end.
One of the things I’d always liked about Whedon’s shows? Most of the protagonists start out as society’s outsiders trying to fulfill some greater purpose. Sadly, answering a higher calling demands a great price— letting thier love lives take a huge hit. Most of the time, they end up not getting the girl (or guy) because he/she either got a) pierced by a couple of wires, Matrix style, or because of b) some supernatural curse or another.
In Merchandise, the two male protagonists come from two different alien races who hold a centuries-old grudge against each other. As outlaws, they exist on the fringes of society. Just when they’re about to take one last job and retire, things don’t go as planned. They’re thrown right into a hot platenary mess and soon find out they’re way out of thier league.
Thankfully though? They do end up getting the girl in the end.
Unlikely mates Brale and Dyos are space bounty hunters who exist outside the intergalactic planetary laws. Their two races might hold a centuries-old grudge against each other, but war is far from their agenda. They simply go where the space credits goes. When a wealthy client hires them to acquire rare merchandise from a cargo ship, Brale and Dyos leap at the opportunity for easy cash.
The hunters get more than they’ve bargain for when they discover the merchandise is a rare human female breeder. For Brale and Dyos, J is the perfect woman, but when certain politics come into play, J comes with a hefty price tag the two outlaws might not be able to pay.
“Do you trust us?” the Hadarian asked in a soft voice.
He didn’t appear concerned by the chaos occurring in front of them. None of them were. Farr’s harsh voice and the concerned murmurs from the crowd faded away. The only sound J heard came from the harsh thudding of her heart as the Hadarian gently touched her. He brushed the curve of her left cheekbone, the line of her jaw, and the column of her throat with his fingertips. His fingers shook, betraying a hunger he obviously tried to hide from her.
These two wanted her, J realized with shock, wanted her with a consuming hunger so stark it was almost painful. Worse still, the way her body leaned and hungered for more of their touches told J her own hunger was a haunted reflection of theirs.
“I trust you,” J whispered, surrendering the gun to the Hadarian.
“Thank you.” The Hadarian relieved her of her task of pressing the gun to her forehead. For a moment, fear clouded J.
“You wouldn’t dare kill her,” Farr sneered.
The Hadarian didn’t look daunted one bit. “Shall we make a bet, Farr? Will you risk losing your expensive captive in front of your entire people for the sake of your pride?”
Farr looked like he’d been struck. Gael whispered something furiously in his ear while his men looked clearly unsettled.
Gods of the Galaxy. Did she horribly misinterpret the situation and the prisoners planned on using her as a means of escape?
Another painful migraine pounded at her head again. The Cobrini dispelled any inkling of panic by molding himself against the curve of her naked back. Fog-like memories slipped into her mind, still all smoky and insubstantial, but J realized she did know the touch of these two men and the sound of their voices.
“I can see through your ruse, traitor. I’ve watched your sordid little moment in the holding cells. You and your Cobrini lover value this Breeder as much as I,” Farr said, his tone a mixture of distaste and something else J didn’t expect. Jealousy, and not of the mild variety either. Farr’s usually handsome face became contorted with fury.
The pressure of the metal barrel on her forehead increased, but fear and worry no longer misted J’s mind. She swore she’d see this episode through the end and finally unravel her mysterious connection to these two men no matter the cost.
The Cobrini behind her spoke. “Like you said, Farr. We space pirates don’t have many morals to begin with. When you shove a man in a cage and leave him there to rot, he can grow really desperate, and men without options learn to be creative.”
About Angel:
Angelique Voisen writes LGBTQ erotic romances and likes experimenting with different sub-genres. Her stories are often set in exotic settings and may include blades, fangs, kinky magic systems and happily-ever-afters.
Devil Torments is a vampire living in a world where one man’s weakness paves the way for another man’s gain. When a gambling addict offers his daughter as payment for his debt, Devil accepts. Sex without strings is exactly the way he likes it. Love is a concept for fools, the ultimate weakness. Little does he know, he’s about to meet his mate…
In order to protect her best friend, nurse Gabby Winters must bow to her abusive father’s demands and offer her innocence to a stranger. She never expected to feel anything, let alone find herself irrevocably tied to the man. But can Gabby learn to accept that Devil’s scars run deep, and the love she’s spent her life secretly yearning for is forever out of reach?
If Devil thought that keeping Gabby at arm’s length would keep either of them safe, he was dead wrong. When danger lands at Gabby’s feet, it’s up to Devil to pick up the pieces. Will he come to realize that love isn’t a weakness and Gabby is his greatest strength, before it’s too late? Or will he lose the most precious gift of all?
“What the fuck!” Devil shouted once the woman had left the office. To say he was furious would have been an understatement. Murderous thoughts ran wild through his mind.
“Who the hell told you she was a call girl?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
“That asshole Harrison.”
Devil picked up the photo Jeffrey Harrison had given him. Only this time, his eyes saw something they had failed to earlier. The picture depicted the same woman from tonight minus the makeup. Her beauty and innocence shone through. How could he have missed it?
His murderous thoughts changed slightly. Instead of just killing Jeffrey Harrison, he planned on torturing the asshole first. What kind of father would sell their innocent daughter to pay off his gambling debts? No matter what sins he had committed, and the list was long, Devil knew that he would never contemplate such a thing. Yes, Jeffrey Harrison would pay for his crimes, and Devil would be the judge, jury, and executioner.
Though Devil had to concede that Jeffrey Harrison wasn’t the only one responsible for what had happened tonight. Devil had been just as responsible. He had been so wound up lately, that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate this beautiful woman for what she was. Had he done so, he no doubt would have recognized the signs of inexperience and sent her away before he ruined her. Or at least recognized what she wasn’t, a call girl. He too needed to make amends, only it was for his stupidity and impatience.
As soon as he had seen the woman, he had become hard. It had been a long time since his cock had appreciated a woman so instantly. Her curves were on display in that tight little dress she wore. He’d dragged her into his hotel room, desperate to hide her amazing body from passersby. He wanted to be the only one to view such a delicious sight. She reminded him of the women from his youth. They enjoyed their food too much to worry about what they looked like. He rued the day that body image became an important factor in a woman’s life. Now, the first woman to pique his interest in a long time, and look at the way he had treated her. It was an error he would make amends for, but first he needed more information.
“I say you get that fucker on the phone and let’s hear what he has to say for himself,” Viper said, his fae yellow eyes coming to the forefront, highlighting what his body language failed to. He was pissed. He was known as Viper because he struck his prey hard and fast; they never knew what hit them until it was too late.
Devil followed Viper’s advice, and a few seconds later a ringing tone could be heard through the phone’s speaker. “Hello,” came the wary greeting.
“Harrison.”
“Um, yes, Mr. Torments. Was there a problem with Gabriella?” The man’s question had Devil emitting a low, menacing growl.
“Yes there’s a problem. She’s not a call girl like you insinuated.”
“Um, yes, well,” the man muttered down the phone.
“What did you tell her to get her here?” Devil demanded.
“The truth! It’s not like she’s innocent,” the man scoffed.
“What the hell did she ever do to you to gain such disregard?” Devil asked, furious at this man’s attitude toward Gabriella.
“She existed,” the man replied with venom in his voice. “Do you have any idea how difficult she made my life once my wife found out about her? Her presence all but killed my wife.”
Hearing enough of this man’s viciousness, Devil stated, in a voice that left no room for argument, “Tell me everything you know about her! Then you will stay out of her life. You will have to clear your debt with us without using your daughter any further. Do I make myself understood?”
The truth was, the money meant very little to him at the moment. Revenge was the only course of action in Devil’s mind. By the end of the phone call, he had this guy’s slow death all planned out. But first he needed to make things right with Gabriella. She deserved nothing less, and so much more.
A little about Emma:
One day my prince charming came along. He just took a wrong turn, got lost, and was too stubborn to ask for directions. Well that was how my first date ended up with a special man, who is now my husband. Yes, you read correctly, I married him and haven’t regretted a minute. Thirteen years later, I have two wonderful boys (three if you include hubby, which I often do) and I’m following my dreams of writing romance books with HEAs, thanks to my supportive family.
I started writing several years ago. Mainly children’s books for my boys. Those will probably never get published. Then to quote Martin Luther King, “I had a dream!” As a rule I never remember my dreams, but this one I did, and I wrote it down. And the rest as they say is history. I currently have five books published and another due out in the next couple of weeks. At this stage they are all paranormal. What can I say? I love the big predatory mythological creatures so to offer them their own happy ever after was the least I can do.
Marriages shouldn’t have secrets, should they? Follow our seven couples, as they come to terms with the fact that their partner has been holding something back from them. Will it make or break their relationship? Read on to find out, and have your fan at the ready, because these secrets are hot!
Discovering frilly French Knickers in your husband’s dry cleaning can only mean one thing, right? They’re certainly not Mareijke’s! Devastated at this find, she returns home early and walks in on the unmistakable sounds of Stefano in the throes of passion… but things are not what they seem…
When Daisy went on holiday she did not expect to return with a drop dead gorgeous husband. Life is great until she meets a masked stripper at her belated hen night. She knows the eyes behind that mask, doesn’t she?
Helen thought she’d lost her husband to depression after he lost his job. Now he’s back, happy, horny and ready to play. But Carl’s spending so much time on his computer she’s worried he’s got something to hide. Will his secret tear them apart, or bring them closer than ever?
Nicholas Cole has been married to Marissa for twenty years, and he dreams of being dominated by his vanilla wife. When he returns from a business trip, he is in for one heck of a birthday surprise.
Cleo knows her wife is up to something, and she is determined to find out what it is. When she walks in on Marie and some bloke at a hotel room, she thinks all is lost. And then Marie orders her to stay… And when your Domme gives you an order…
Juan Roberto’s unexpected arrival home turns on its head when he discovers his wife Noni has a mind-blowing surprise she’s been hiding from him. Discovering secrets and sex tapes have never been hotter or more pleasurable…
Contains: a naughty video and an even naughtier married couple rediscovering each other.
Harrington loves his new wife Penny. So much so that he puts his own desires for a more exciting sex life to one side. Their lovemaking may be vanilla, but it’s all he needs, or so he thinks, until the suitcase breaks and he discovers her secret.
“Because seeing you dressed like this makes me horny as hell.”
He had to be hearing things. She could not mean what she had just said. However the short bursts of her warm breath against his neck and the hardness of her nipples against his arm confirmed the truth behind those words, as clearly as the musk of her arousal. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be wet for him. Her body gave her away, as surely as his own responded to her. The dominant in him rose to the fore, and he halted the upwards progress of her hand with a growled, “No.”
She froze, and he fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head backward to enable him to study her face. Stefano lost himself in the tender and hopeful expression mirrored in her beloved features, and he kissed the tears still clinging to her eyelashes away.
Mareijke sighed in submission, and he smiled into the kiss he slanted across her lips. How he had missed her, the simple act of kissing, tentative strokes of her tongue matching his forceful ones, as he took the kiss deeper, angling their bodies until she was lying underneath him on the bed. He yanked the cushion still between them away with an annoyed growl and thrust his frill covered cock into her groin.
She gasped into his mouth and clung onto his shoulders. Arching her hips to meet him thrust for eager thrust, she locked her ankles behind his ass, and Stefano grunted his approval. This is what he needed, this reassurance that she still wanted him as much as ever, and suddenly he couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted her bound and naked, the silky walls of her tight pussy milking his cock, as he fucked her hard and fast.
He broke the kiss with a bite to her lower lip that made her squirm, and he cupped her mound. The damp fabric made him smile almost as much as her hiss of pleasure when he pressed against her clit. A shudder went through her, and her eyes went wide when he straddled her legs.
“Grip the headboard for me, and don’t let go.”
She complied immediately, and he grabbed the ends of her sensible blouse and yanked hard. Buttons popped and fabric ripped as he pulled the thing clean off her, and his breath stalled in his lungs at the vision in front of him. His wife’s ample breasts were barely concealed by the scraps of red lacy scaffolding covering the heavy mounds, and he ran his knuckles across the hard nubs clearly visible through the see-through fabric. They firmed even more, and she arched into his touch. Her little teeth made imprints on her bottom lip, swollen from his kisses, and her whole body shook in need when he ran a finger under her bra cup. He pulled it down freeing that breast to his gaze and with a grin at her bent down and sucked the rosy tip of her nipple into his mouth.
“Stefano … please…” Her lust-filled moan shot straight to his cock, and he suckled harder, kneading the other nipple between his fingers. He knew how responsive she was to this kind of stimulation, and helplessly trapped as she was under his legs, he could feel the rising tension of her body, her desperate need to come. Breath coming in short gasps, her auburn hair feathered across the pillow, she held onto the headboard with a white knuckled grip, as her body clambered towards release. She screamed her annoyance when he released her nipple and bit down hard, causing her to pant harder.
With an audible rip the delicate lace of her bra gave way under his ministrations and her bountiful curves spilled into his waiting hands. Stefano pushed them together and blew across her distended nipples. Mareijke squirmed underneath him. A fierce blush spread across her sweat-slicked skin, and her head rolled form side and side. He drank in the sight of his wife lost to her arousal, and a sense of calm settled over him, like it always did, when he gave her pleasure. Even without the discussion that they would have to have soon, he knew that all would be all right between them. Stefano lifted himself off her and pulled her pants off, taking her lacy thong with them. The musk of her arousal drew him, and he left the trousers dangling just under her knees. Pushing her knees up, he angled her lower body until she was half lying on her side. With her hands still clutching the headboard and her legs trapped inside her trousers she had nowhere to go, and he ran his hands down the curve of her hip and kneaded her ass cheeks. She pushed into his hand with a small moan, and he brought his hand down on one shapely ass cheek.
“Yesssss, again … Please, Stefano … I need.” The rest of whatever she was going to say was lost in the sound of his hand connecting with her milky flesh, and his cock threatened to split its lacy covering, seeing the red marks of his possession. Hearing Mareijke’s needy sighs in his ears he couldn’t wait one minute longer. The sheets of the bed were stained with her arousal, and without further ado he freed his throbbing dick and aligned himself with her wet entrance.
“I’m going to fuck you now, cara. Is that what you want?” He growled his question into her shoulder and bit her ear, soothing the sting with his tongue.
********
Excerpt from The Anniversary Gift by Cherie Nicholls
“What’s so amusing?”
“She said you’d come.”
“Did she? Well you can let her know I’m here.”
“Come on in.”
Cleo stepped in to the room. He didn’t leave her much room, and forced her to brush against his body.
“Who was at the door, Mitch?” Marie asked walking out of the bedroom in nothing but black lingerie. The very same set Cleo had bought for her birthday.
“Your woman has arrived.”
Cleo expected shock, perhaps guilt. She saw none of that in Marie. A smile spread across Marie’s face. Cleo’s temper started to rise. Marie wasn’t even sorry that she’d been caught.
“Mitch, as in Mitchell, your new PA? Little cliché don’t you think, Marie?”
“Perhaps, but it works for me. He works for me, too, in more ways than one.”
“I don’t need to hear about your exploits, thank you.”
“No? But I thought you liked when I talked dirty, baby?” Cleo’s cheeks burned. How dare she? How dare Marie try flirting with her when she’d been caught cheating?
“Yeah, well that was before you decided I wasn’t enough to keep you entertained.”
“Is that right?” Marie sat on an overstuffed chair, a hand casually stroking the swell of her breast.
Damn her, as angry and hurt as Cleo was, she still wanted Marie.
“Yes,” Cleo said.
“Mitch, get the door,” Marie said.
She was going to have Cleo thrown out? Fine. If that’s the way this was going to end, then fine. She’d walk out with her head held high even if her heart was in shatters.
The sound of the lock snapping into place drew Cleo’s attention.
“Good boy,” Marie said with such praise for the man Cleo wanted to head-butt him.
Mitch locked the door.
What the hell?
Cleo watched him cautiously as Mitch walked around in front of her.
“Now, Mitch, show my woman why you’re here with me.”
Lia Risso walked in on her fiancé and three other women on Valentine’s Day. Two celibate years later, her roommate creates a profile for Lia on a dating website—without her knowledge—and sets up a date. On Valentine’s Day.
Ryan Walsh, a self-made millionaire and libertine, refuses to commit to any one woman. Tossed from foster home to foster home as a child, Ryan is on guard against becoming vulnerable ever again.
One dinner…one night of dancing and flirting with the attraction between them, puts both Lia and Ryan in danger of heart break.
They have a choice—open themselves to the possibility of hurt or walk away, never knowing what might have been.
My nerve endings stirred as the subtle scent of sandalwood wafted across the table time and again. What man used sandalwood-scented soap anymore? By the cut of his suit and the Rolex on his wrist, Ryan Walsh had money. And plenty of it. Why no expensive cologne? The chick-lure nectar of the gods his type bathed in?
He grinned again, and heat filled the empty place only Mr. Pink had seen or stroked in two years. Ryan’s attention drifted to my lips and lingered as our waiter took his time pouring our wine.
I forced myself to breathe as my treasonous nipples pebbled, begging for attention.
Damnation. I do not want this.
He was too friggin’ sexy for his own good. And by his suggestive grin and the twinkle in his eyes, he knew it too.
“Are you ready to order, Lia?” Ryan asked, his focus staying on my face instead of dipping downward like most men’s did.
Praying my voice didn’t betray my arousal, I turned my attention the waiter. “I’ll have the shrimp Fra Diavlo.”
“And for you, sir?”
Ryan spouted off a few words in Italian, never once breaking eye contact with me.
My lips twitched. Papa would be impressed.
When the waiter ambled away, a smile—a real smile, not the cocky, you-know-you-want-me ones he had offered until then—revealed straight, white teeth. “So.”
His low voice caressed my ears, and I pressed my thighs together. Thank God I hadn’t shaved. No doubt he had little trouble getting women into his bed. Or their bed. Or against a wall.
Holy shit.
About Lynn Burke:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Her current work, the Risso Family Novellas, revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.
The Fox and the Hound is book two in my Bailout Series. In book one, Backwoods Bailout, the main character Lacy was swindled into buying a house that technically didn’t belong to the person selling it. As we come to find out, the person who sold it to her was leading man, Marcus’ ex-girlfriend, Holly. It was a bitter break-up, what can I say? Anyway Holly rights her wrongs before heading into the sunset…but it seems she’s been too lucky for too long and Karma has come a knockin’ in the form of Peyton Shepherd. This is their story…
Holly is just restarting her retirement from a life of white collar crime when an old friend finds his way back to her. Peyton Shepherd, AKA The Reaper, is the bad guys’ number one retrieval expert when they are looking for someone, and right now they’re looking for Holly.
She usually doesn’t worry about these guys because she can con her way out of pretty much anything but Peyton has apprehended her before. This time he is a little more motivated to bring her in because the last time she left him handcuffed naked to a headboard, borrowed his identity, and stole his favorite car. Holly didn’t think a year was long enough for him to forgive and forget but if he did finish the job, she knew it wasn’t a meeting she’d walk away from.
Excerpt:
I found Peyton sitting at the small desk. He curled his finger at me and I made my way across the carpet, wearing the bathrobe provided with the room.
When I stopped directly in front of him, he was staring up at me.
“What?”
“I’m sorry I said those things to you.”
“I know you might not think very highly of me, Peyton, but…”
“I didn’t like the fact that you…were with Marcus,” he finished. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It wasn’t fair.”
Why did he even care that I had been with Marcus?
“If it makes you feel any better, I screwed that one up, royally,” I said honestly.
“You didn’t screw it up. You were just trying to protect him. He’s a nice guy. He’s not like us.”
I shrugged and looked away, but immediately felt his hand snake its way between the folds of the robe and come to rest on the bare skin of my side. I looked down at him, but when I didn’t move away, he pulled me closer so that I was standing between his knees. He tugged gently on the robe and it fell onto the floor with a whispering of fabric across skin. He seemed to be memorizing every inch of me, and just that was the sexiest thing I’d ever watched a man do. He urged me forward again, bringing his face even with my breast before nipping me gently, his eyes rolling up to meet mine, as if asking permission to continue.
I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair. I lowered my mouth down to his and he immediately stood up, carrying me with him to the bed. Still clothed, he lowered himself between my legs and, from the feel of things, he enjoyed being there, very much.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I whispered.
“You’re right,” he answered, pulling his shirt off and lowering himself back down until we were pressed warm skin to warm skin. He bit my earlobe and I completely forgot why I was supposed to be stopping him. He curled an arm around my waist and pulled me tighter against him with a happy growl and more kisses. In truth, I didn’t have the will power to stop him. After the daily regret of leaving my needs unmet the last time, I didn’t want to stop him again.
My breath caught in my throat when he rolled me over. He placed tickling kisses from the back of my neck down the length of my back, following the feminine curve of my spine. He got to my ass and bit me hard enough to send a shock through my entire body. He growled out his satisfaction and trailed one of his hands up between my thighs, tickling his fingers over the sensitive skin there for a moment before easing me onto my back again.
He stood over me, looking both dangerous and completely captivated by me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been looked at by a man like this before. He slowly removed his clothes, taking his sweet time and driving me nuts.
I whimpered as he removed his boxer briefs. He smiled at me before lowering himself onto the bed, his body covering my own. “What’s your hurry?” he teased, rubbing his nose along the length of my jaw. “I know you’re a thief, baby, but I have to teach you the difference between instant gratification and real satisfaction.”
Emily Bunsbury is most definitely not a fainter. She prefers to leave that sort of shenanigans to young debutants and to those desperate to land a husband. She is neither.
Except last night she passed out and was rescued by none other than the town’s most eligible bachelor: William Dalton. Of course, she wants nothing to do with him, but her heart and body don’t seem to be in agreement…
Banished from his pack for a crime he did not commit, William Dalton does not have the desire or the time to court women, yet, when he meets Emily Bunsbury he is incapable of staying away. Certain that it is nothing more than a passing fancy and not the mating pull, he pursues her.
However, as the unknown threat that expelled him from his pack strikes again, William realizes that Emily means much more and he must keep her safe. Now, if only she’d agree to his terms…
As danger grows with each passing day, will the couple learn to trust each other or will their love be nothing more than a temporary tempest of passion?
Excerpt:
“Perhaps you can enlighten me. You’re an accomplished dancer as far as I can see and you seem to enjoy it, even if you did tell me you didn’t particularly like it. Why don’t the other men ask you to dance? Must I be on the lookout lest you do something outrageous?”
They reunited on the floor. Emily extended her right foot forward allowing her weight to rest on it before closing her other foot and hopping. She bit back a smile.
“I think most men in town surrendered in their pursuit for me to dance,” she admitted after a moment. “I refused all of them for what I spoke was the truth. I am not fond of dancing.”
“Yet, you’re not chewing on your lips or pulling them in as you have a habit of doing when carrying out unpleasant duties.” William chuckled. “Just like that. Why always so serious, Ms. Bunsbury? Is my company such a heavy weight on your shoulders that you cannot gift me with a smile?”
“Life is serious business, Mr. Dalton,” she replied, going around him in a circle. “There is nothing more odious than being forced to smile.”
“Of course, I know it well.” His friendly smile vanished, his eyes losing their luster.
“I did not mean to upset you,” Emily hurried to clarify, suddenly desperate to see the gay light present in his eyes again.
William’s lips curled upwards, though the gesture did not reach his eyes.
“It was not your fault, Ms. Bunsbury. You inadvertently awoke some sad memories. Life is serious business,” he conceded, twirling her, “but that is precisely why we must enjoy the precious good moments such as these, for we never know how long they will last.”
“Your opinion of good moments is definitely low if you count this to be one.”
She was teasing him. By God, she was teasing him and though it took him a moment to realize it, she was glad at the sound of his rich laughter. Her lips twitched and she found herself smiling in response to his boisterous mirth.
“Of course I do,” he said after a few seconds. “I am dancing with a beautiful woman on a fine autumn day. It cannot get much better than that?” He winked, reminding her of his ulterior masculine motives and causing her cheerfulness to vanish. “Though you probably think differently,” William added.
“Indeed.”
The melody having come to an end, Emily curtsied and turned to walk away from William Dalton. She’d barely removed herself from the center of the room, when he gripped her elbow. Emily bit back a gasp. Every time he touched her something inside her awoke with a hunger that could not be appeased. Tilting her head back so she could look him in the eyes, she chose to ignore the way her heart leapt.
“That was only one dance, Ms. Bunsbury. You promised me two.”
“Surely, you wouldn’t want to waste your good moments dancing another tune with me, Mr. Dalton.” She made to leave but his fingers on her arm tightened. Anger flared in his eyes and his good-natured smile vanished.
“You think little of yourself, Ms. Bunsbury. I am surprised.”
“You are in the wrong, Sir,” she said as politely as she could muster. “I simply believe that another woman would enjoy your attentions much more than myself.”
Pulling her arm from his grasp, she veered around, desperate for some fresh air. Faster than she could muster, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Curling her hands into fists, she fought against the urge to shove him out of the way.
“Mr. Dalton—!”
“Ms. Bunsbury.”
Emily’s eyes flew to his face at the warning in his tone, her wroth vanishing and scattering into the wind as their gazes clashed.
“I don’t take kindly to broken promises,” he whispered gruffly.
Her breath caught as he reached for her hand, his fingertips sliding sensually over her gloved wrist. Her pulse raced, urging her to move or succumb to the persistent throbbing between her legs.
“You may think yourself fast as a rabbit or cunning like a fox, Ms. Bunsbury, but I am a hunter and catching prey is my favorite sport.”
Considered weird by normal standards – what is normal anyway?- Elyzabeth M. VaLey enjoys making up songs about mundane things, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper, talking to her Lab whenever he feigns interest and coming up with love stories to make readers dream.
From contemporary to historical or fantasy, she enjoys writing stories about good and evil, love and passion and all that comes in between happy ever after.
Thanks so much for having my boys on your blog today 🙂
Well, I say my boys, but from the minute James and George met, they only had eyes for each other. However, office romances are never a good idea, especially when you’re the new boss, and the man you fancy is your office manager.
George has no idea how to make that first move. He knows James is gay, but everyone in the office assumes George is straight, and besides… you can’t just tell your staff that you want to fuck them silly, now, can you? Never mind the fact that you might be developing feelings for them.
*winks*
No, a subtle move is needed, and this card is it.
Okay, maybe the card isn’t that subtle, but it sure gets the point across.
After all, The New Year is a time for new beginnings, and George wants those with James… if he can only convince him that Love is a precious thing…
Blurb:
~Love is a precious thing~
When James Dyllon finds an explicit card on his desk he doesn’t know what to think. His hot as Hades boss has never given him the slightest indication that he returns James’ affections, so this card can’t be from him. Two male lovers entwined—someone is having a laugh at his expense.
George MacKenzie is done lusting after James from afar. A New Year brings with it the opportunity for change and George is tired of hiding. Since taking over the company after his father fell ill, he is finally in a position to act on his feelings, and he wants James. The card might be a feeble attempt, but at least James does not seem disinterested.
Together they will be able to weather anything, as long as he can convince James that he really does want forever.
Excerpt:
“Happy New Year, boss.”
He put the tray on the night stand, and offered George two aspirin and the glass of water. George swallowed them and winced anew at the sandpapery quality of his throat. James grinned again—in sympathy George assumed—though it was difficult to determine through his blurry eyed vision and the brass band which seemed to have taken up residence in his head.
“Happy New Year.” George managed to croak those few words out and collapsed back on the bed with a groan. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Of course you won’t. Here, sit up, get your caffeine hit, and have a shower. You’ll feel better afterward, I promise.”
George glared at the other man through hooded lids, and decided there and then that James had to be some sort of sadist. No one was this happy first thing in the morning, and took this much delight in torturing another human being into sitting up. The clanging cymbals in his head all decided to bash together in discord and George groaned and held his head in his hands.
“Fuck.”
James’s amused snort joined in with the percussion instruments crashing against his skull and George screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sadly we haven’t yet. I don’t think jerking off to images of you passed out in my bed counts as fucking you, and I do find myself most impatient to do so, so be a good boy, drink this coffee, and then for the love of God, shower, man.”
Amusement tinged those words, but there was an underlying edge that registered over the fuzz for brains in George’s head, and he cracked one eye open to look at James. The intensity of his gaze made him swallow, and all conscious thought fled out of his brain as James grasped his hands and wrapped them round the steaming cup of coffee.
“Coffee, shower, fuck, in that order.”
James winked at him, and George did as he was told. The slap to his ass as he stumbled off the bed and James pointed him to the bathroom, stung, and made his cock jerk. James noticed, of course and wrapped his hand around George’s shaft and pumped it a few times. Exquisite pleasure shot through George’s system, and he braced a hand on the wall to steady himself.
“Fuck, James, stop doing that, or I’ll never make it into the shower.”
James laughed, bit his shoulder lightly, released his cock, and swatted his ass again.
“Don’t be too long in there, or I’ll be forced to join you.”
George groaned and shook his head.
“Is that supposed to be a deterrent or a promise?” He didn’t catch James’s laughing reply, as he stumbled into the bathroom. By the time he managed to eventually relieve himself, wash his hands, and brush his teeth with the spare toothbrush he’d found propped up against the sink, he felt almost human. The warm stream of the power shower further revived him, and he stood and let the hot spray cascade over him. He wasn’t entirely surprised to hear the shower enclosure open and shut and he sucked in a breath when he opened his eyes. James stood with his back to him, and George got his first good look at James’s dragon. It covered his back, wings flapping wildly, and the art work was supreme. Over James’s broad shoulders, down his muscular back and into his delectable ass, George’s gaze followed the trail of ink, and giving into the need to touch the other man, he let his hands follow the trail of his visual inspection.
His cock reared back into life with a speed and force that left him lightheaded as James’s lust filled groan trembled through the confined space of their shower enclosure, and his lover’s muscles tensed under George’s fingertips.
“That’s fucking awesome, baby.” George ran his knuckles down James’s spine until he reached the globes of his ass. Squeezing the firm flesh he kneaded his lover’s butt cheeks and kissed down James’s back. It took a bit of awkward maneuvering in their confined space, but he managed to drop to his knees, and continue his path downward. James swore under his breath and slapped his hands on the tiled wall for support when George spread his lover’s ass cheeks and licked from James’s heavy balls upward to his anus.
James tensed and panted, when George tunneled his tongue through James’s ring of muscle while bringing one hand round to grasp his thick shaft.
“Fuck, George, you don’t have to… Jesus.”
James’s cock jerked and pulsed in George’s firm grasp, and those tight muscles guarding James’s rear entrance tightened around his tongue in involuntary clenches that told George in no uncertain terms how close James was getting. Anal play was something George had always enjoyed. The mere intimacy of the act showed how much you trusted the other person, and he withdrew slowly and growled his next words into James’s hairy thighs, while he fondled the man’s heavy balls.
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Thank you for letting me stop by and visit with my new release. This one was inspired by one weekend in Vegas … with Mom … and the talented and hard-working men of Chippendales and Australia’s Thunder From Down Under. What can I say? It was a very memorable weekend. Wink, wink. Ever had one of those? You know I’d love to hear about it in the comments. Wink, Wink. Xoxoxoxxo.
One night to finally make it right before it all gets torn apart…
Two years ago, best friends Emma Chester and Sam Jason tried being intimate. Due to Sam’s massive size, it didn’t work. Emma was hurt. Embarrassed, they did their best to move on. Now the day has come when Emma must suspend Sam as a dancer at the club they work at, awakening the buried pain of that one night.
Sam has seen this day coming but is shocked when Emma asks him to strip for her just once before he leaves the club. Allowing himself to feel for her again is too dangerous but she’s clearly not in her right mind and needs him.
Can he maintain his restraint and help her?
When she hands him his uniform to strip out of, is she handing him her heart? Or is it too tattered to ever belong to him again?
Excerpt:
Sam’s every muscle tensed and ached for her to lay one finger on his skin. But she didn’t. She even took her pinky back from where they’d linked them when she stood up and he followed suit.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Do you trust me, Sam?”
“Of course,” he said without thinking.
“Do you believe that I trust you?”
That one took him longer.
He wanted to regain her trust more than anything in the world, especially now that they’d gone and opened up old wounds. “Yes,” he said but knew the wishful answer hadn’t satisfied her. And somehow, being suspended or fired or quitting his job didn’t matter as much as whatever they were delving into right now. This had become something more. Way more.
She answered for him. “No you don’t. And that’s why before you leave here for good, because we both know that’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to prove to you once and for all that I do trust you. No matter what,” she said and held out her whole hand this time, not just a pinky. “You coming? We don’t have all night.”
Was there any sense in arguing the finer points?
Unsure of exactly what would happen, he was keenly aware he could not do anything to jeopardize her job as manager if that’s where this was heading. Sam took Emma’s hand as she led him from her office and then abruptly came to a halt. Unprepared to be stopping in front of the room she usually avoided at all cost, he banged into her which sent her tripping into the door frame. The sudden, hard contact fired him to life. He felt himself throb, his groin grew tight. These Navy white pants didn’t hide anything.
“Damn. Sorry. But you’re taking me to the S room?” His voice was never high like that. If anything, he thought maybe she’d been about to ask him for a motorcycle ride over the new Hoover Dam bridge to prove her trust in him. Hell, he’d have been more prepared had she gone and fetched some random show guest and thrown the two of them in there while she stood outside, “trusting” him. This? Wanting to go inside S room? With him? Nowhere on his radar.
There was something about this room she hated.
And very little else to do inside besides be together. Which he was sure she also must hate after the way he’d hurt her before.
He had one word for her and feared like a little girl that saying it would be the one thing to push her away for good. But he had to say it.
“No.”
This wasn’t a place to enter on the premise that you trusted a person. You either went in here not caring a damn about what might happen, like most of the show patrons he’d brought, or fully aware and in control of yourself. No in between. Sam had watched her tow the line throughout their entire conversation.
“I won’t take you in there. You’re not ready. Don’t be stubborn and ask me how I know that. I just do.”
“It’s not up to you right now.” Her lips stopped speaking, and it was clear that was the last thing she would say until he either followed her in or left her in the hallway, alone.
Like fire that realized it was on dry ground and free to burn, the thought of being in there with her jolted his body awake. Years old, buried, and desperate desire, came out of hiding. He would put himself through hell to be able to have her and not hurt her. But standing directly behind Emma as she unlocked and opened the black door, he saw how he still engulfed her.
From her petite shoulders came a giant heave as she took the first step inside.
In that instant, he knew she was wrong. He could and should choose not to go inside, but he did have something to show her. That she was safe when they were together. He couldn’t believe that was what this had turned into but he found some small ground to stand on and be thankful. He wouldn’t piss this opportunity away. A man took responsibility for his actions, no matter how far in the past they’d happened and how much time he’d spent racking up distance, hiding. Sam would be the ambassador of control and restraint once they were on the other side of this door.
He had to prod her forward the next step. And the next, which set off a mile-long trail of red flags.
He waited and let her be the one to turn and close the door.
As soon as he heard it click, he slid his hands inside the tight pants pockets and held them there.
The room was dark and chilly, and her breathing echoed in his ears. He went in search of the light switch. The low bulb setting purposely only lit the room one shade lighter, but it was enough to see the shadow dampening her pretty face.
“Okay,” she said out loud, like she was her own coach. “Okay.”
“We’re out of here, Emma. Now.”
She held up her small hand and he’d have latched onto it had his hands been available. “No. We’re not leaving. I’m fine. I just needed a second,” she said. That wasn’t her “I’ve got this” voice. She was acting and not doing a very bang-up job of it.
Sam had no choice but to touch.
He fumbled around and found her other hand and took it into his, receiving an instantaneous jolt of comfort. He hoped he affected her the same way but couldn’t be sure. She was awfully still.
Emma looked at the neon hands of the wall clock. “We have one hour before the second show lets out,” she said.
“I’m assuming you have some plan, Emma.” God, please tell him she had a plan. Because the only one he had was to let go and keep his hands to himself, no matter what.
She stared through him and scanned the near nothingness of the room. “I do. I do have one. I want you to strip for me, Sam.”
Carlene Love Flores is a big fan of the stars (especially Orion), honest music (especially Depeche Mode), and her traveling family (no favorites there-she loves them all). These things inspire her intimate style of romance writing. She feels honored to be a member of Washington DC Romance Writers (WRWDC), RWA San Diego (RWASD), and the Waterworld Mermaids. Carlene currently lives in the San Diego area where she can often be found listening to live music and looking up at the sky on clear nights. If she could touch someone’s heart with her writing the way others have done for her, she’d say truly there never lived a luckier girl.
Carlene would love to hear from you, find her here:
Thank you for having me on your blog today! This is my debut novella so I’m going though ALL THE FEELS right now. A friend of mine, Evie Knight, urged me to give Evernight Publishing’s Naughty Fairytale line a try, and so the retelling of the lesser known fairytale Snow White and Rose Red was born. The first book in my SnowRose Series is Rose Red’s story. Snow White’s story will be releasing in March, entitled BAD APPLE. I appreciate the opportunity to share this with you and hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
Rose Red will stop at nothing to protect her sister, Snow White, from suffering the same fate as their mother. She vows to kill Hestor, the evil dwarf sorcerer responsible for her death. But a twist of fate lands her on the bottom of a riverbed, and her life in the hands of a mysterious stranger.
Marcus is a beast of a man. He is a bear by day, man by night, thanks to a curse from the evil Hestor. But when he rescues Rose from an icy grave, he unleashes the real animal. Falling for her is dangerous enough, as he must protect the secret of his curse. But she may just be the key to getting his kingdom back as she breaks one spell and puts him under another.
Excerpt:
“Do you have a habit of going around saving damsels in distress, Marcus?” The coy tone in her sexy voice hardens my cock even more, evidence that I’ve not been in female company for quite some time, and it’s taking its toll.
“I don’t have many women that wander into the haunted woods in need of my rescuing. Which leads to the question, what were you doing there?” I fold my arms and stare down into her eyes.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business now, is it?” The icy aftertaste of her tone stings my ears. “While I appreciate the rescue, I should get home. My sister is waiting for me and will send out a search party if I don’t return.”
“It’ll be a mighty cold walk with no clothes,” I say, holding back the smirk climbing across my lips.
The green in her eyes darkens. “Kindly give me back my clothing and affects, sir.”
“Absolutely. Once they’re dry.” I fan my arms to the fire where I’ve laid out her soaking clothes. “It’ll take hours for them to be dry enough to wear. Besides, there’s a nasty storm brewin’ outside. A bit treacherous for you to be wandering out in, alone and at night. It would be in your best interest to stay here and let it pass. You can venture home in the morning.” My eyes lock onto hers and I pour sincerity into them in hopes she’ll reconsider my offer. “I promise, come sunrise I will leave you, and you are free to go.”
She darts her gaze between me and the fireplace. I half expect her to make a mad dash for her clothes. But she doesn’t.
“And what am I to do the rest of this eve then?” Her arms fold across her chest, pinching her breasts together.
I force my eyes away from the glorious cleavage and swallow over the lump in my throat. “Well, I assume you’ll want to sleep. After all, I would imagine killing a man would take a lot out of you physically and emotionally. Not to mention the whole falling into the river and me rescuing you.”
Her eyes widen as big as saucers. “Were you stalking me?”
“Perhaps I came upon you once or twice before.” I give an aloof shrug.
Fury blazes in her dark green eyes and it lights my cock on fire even more. Damn, she’s gorgeous when she’s feisty. It takes everything in me not to devour her plump lips with my own.
“How much do you know?” She leans in, forgetting she’s naked as her protective covering falls away from her breasts.
They stare up at me from the corner of my eye, but I’m careful not to look at them for fear she’ll cover them back up. Stunning pink nipples harden at the chill in the room. My fingers ache to rub them.
“How much should I know. I’ve never met you before, Rose. You’ve come into my woods for the past month, and each time a man is with you. But you always leave alone. And I’m left to dispose of bloodied bodies before morning. So, do I need to worry that you’ll add me to your collection?” Jutting my hands to the blanket on either side of her body, I press in closer to her on the bed, hovering just above her lips.
Quick breaths puff from her lips as she processes my words. Her eyes stay glued to mine in a glorious rage, and it stirs me inside to think of burying myself in that fury between her legs.
“Not unless you’re in league with Hestor. If you are, I suggest you run.” Her body inches closer to mine, the blankets falling even further down her body. The delicate soft skin of her stomach catches my eyes and I’m unable to look away.
“Hestor?” I repeat, as it’s the only word that sticks in my ears under the distraction of her curves.
“Are you not familiar with the dwarf sorcerer?” she asks.
“Oh. On the contrary, I’m quite familiar with Hestor. The question is, why do you seek him out?” My gaze turns back to her.
“Like what you see?” She tilts her head and swipes her lips with her tongue. “It’s yours if you lead me to him.”
I shake my head. “You truly must think me a fool if you proposition me so, dear Rose. I know that’s what you offer the targets in your game. You tease them with the reward of your body, yet you get them alone in the woods and take their lives. You cannot seduce me in this way.”
“Am I repulsive to you?” her voice notches up an octave.
“You, Rose Red are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes upon. But I think you should know our interest in Hestor may be of a similar nature and perhaps we could strike a deal.” I ease off her and fold my arms.
“What do you want with him? His magicks are dark and bring only evil.” Her blazing eyes darken, studying me with intent.
I lean in, pressing my chest against hers as I hover above her face. “I have my reasons, as I know you do yours. They are not of your concern. What we both agree on is that he must be eliminated. No?”
“Your towel seems to have come lose,” she whispers.
My brow quirks. “How would you know?” I think she’s trying to distract me, but I won’t fall for her games. “Your eyes haven’t left mine.”
“Because I’m the one who loosened it.” Her warm hand wraps around my cock, forcing a gasp from my lungs. My head yells at me to jump back, but the sensation of her fingers gripping tight to my flesh wipe all logical thought from my mind. I make the mistake of glancing down, aching to watch her hand stroke my length. It’s the last thing I see before she knocks me cold.
Wren Michaels hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But then a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her away below the Mason-Dixon line where she promptly lost all tolerance for snow and cold. They decided they’d make beautiful babies together and they got it right on the first try. Now Wren lives happily ever after in the real world and in the worlds of her making, where she creates book boyfriends for the masses to crave.
Cade’s trying to get over a broken heart when his friend Jack takes him off to a nightclub, named only, The Club. Although at first Cade is shocked by the place he meets Marissa. It’s not long before he and Marissa get together, but under the pressure of expectations from, The Club, and Marissa’s fear of commitment, they’re both running in opposite directions.
Gorgeous Cade has touched Marissa’s heart in ways she doesn’t want to admit.
Lovely Marissa has lifted Cade’s sadness and opened his heart to love again.
The trouble is — someone has to give a little. Who’s it going to be?
An erotic romance with a sprinkle of vanilla BDSM
EXCERPT:
The lights were low and Marissa took a seat at an empty table close to the small group of people. Strategically placed, she took in the delicious sight that was Cade, only a yard away now.
Blue eyes, mmm, my favorite. Look at those lips, made for kissing, biting, sucking. She cast her eyes over his ass and thighs. She soaked up the sight of his handsome jaw line and her eyes flicked to his groin, where she assessed the hang of his suit pants and licked her lips at the promise of a big cock. Holy hell, he’s gorgeous. I’d like him on a collar and leash waiting for me to slap his ass and fuck him senseless. I’d like to slip a blindfold on him and run a feather over his cock to see it jerk to life. I’d like to tie him to a chair, suck him almost to orgasm, and then leave him to beg for release. Wonder if he’s dom or sub?
As Marissa considered Cade’s preference, he turned and looked straight into her eyes.
A huge stab of sexual excitement throbbed in her pussy. With her clit buzzing, she leaned a little forward to smile at Cade.
He looked away.
Marissa saw him gaze around the room. She watched as his shoulders slumped.
The room was large and divided by obvious walkways. A small dance floor held writhing couples, dangerously close to each other, some half-naked. Doms occupied the tables with their Subs in various scenes, all taking their pleasure without concern. Other Doms sat in the low leather lounges watching. It was all much the same as usual. One Dom fucked his Sub from behind, one hand fisted in her hair, and the other gripping her jaw turning her face to kiss and bite her lips. A Sub straddled her Dom, her hands held high above her head tied with a satin ribbon, as the Dom took his fill of her breasts.
Marissa heard his growl.
“Don’t you come until I say you may … I want you across the table. You’ll come on my fingers and then my cock. Do you understand? I might have to punish you again.”
The Sub’s whispered answer must have been to his liking. He kissed her tenderly.
Marissa looked away. Her pussy creamed and a sigh of appreciation escaped her. Marissa loved sex. She liked to be in control, although she’d scened with a Master, a friend, when she needed release. Her role in The Club was as a Domme, but she was vanilla, the specialist in helping newcomers. Everything she did, she designed to bring maximum pleasure to her Sub whilst simultaneously taking it herself. She enjoyed the control she wielded. It suited her to be the one with the power, and in her mind, the choice to walk away.
The Club had been open for more than a decade and was considered one of the best in the country. Safety was their priority, that and pleasure. To Marissa’s knowledge, no one left The Club after seeking a niche there and never came back.
Marissa found her gaze straying back to Cade.
He stood awkwardly by the table where Jack finger-fucked his current Sub. She laid back with her legs wide apart, her dress up around her waist, and her wrists tied over her head with a blue satin scarf. If she’d worn panties to visit The Club, there was no sign of them now.
Marissa watched the Sub squirm, whimpering for release.
Jack shook his head. “Not yet, sweetheart, I’m enjoying your lovely pussy. Your cream’s running down my palm. I’m going to lick it up and then I’ll think about letting you come. Are you enjoying showing my guest what a good girl you are?”
The Sub murmured, her breath hitching as Jack bent and thrust his tongue into her pussy.
“Yes, sir, it’s exactly how I hoped it would be.”
Marissa’s pussy drenched her panties. She licked her lips.
Cade lurched around and took a step toward her table.
He looked unseeing right into Marissa’s eyes, the expression on his face a glaze of pure confusion, and then he passed by heading to the bar in the corner.
Marissa watched him take a sip of the iced water he’d ordered, then she too got up and walked away from that part of The Club where sex soaked the air with erotic perfume, and the sounds of orgasm played havoc with her own desires.
I was asked to write a story for an erotic romance anthology. Almost immediately I had my character, Cade, form in my head and a love story for him, but then I was informed the anthology would be BDSM. I thought I’d have trouble with the genre, but the editor of the proposed anthology said, ‘give it a go’. I began to adapt the love story in my mind for the character Cade, thinking I’d have to consider the plot for a short time, but only a few days later the anthology was cancelled. By then Cade was so real to me and a story with a sprinkle of the genre, BDSM, was firmly in my mind, so I wrote it.
The story is much longer than I originally thought it might be, especially when it was going to be for an anthology, and the romance conflict arc is now about both Cade and my heroine, Marissa. As usual, I fell in love with my characters and couldn’t stop writing until they reached their HEA.
I did a little research for this story because I didn’t know much about the type of club Jack, Cade’s friend, takes him to. Once I no longer needed to place emphasis on dominance and submission, the story unfolded easily, interweaving with the original love story I had for Cade when he first began whispering in my ear.
With scorching hot love scenes, tender moments, a dash of angst and a splash of humor this is Cade’s journey to love again.
I hope readers enjoy it.
FIVE QUESTIONS FOR THE AUTHOR:
Elodie Parkes is with me today, as she celebrates the release of, Rescuing Cade, from Evernight Publishing.
Hi, Elodie, welcome to the blog. I have five questions for you today. They’re hopefully different from the usual author interviews you do.
Hi, it’s great to be here. (Smiles)
Tell us a secret about your books, anything that springs to mind as long as you’ve never told anyone before.
Yikes, that will blow the secret, then, huh. (Grins) Okay here we go. This is scary. It’s not about my new release, Rescuing Cade, from Evernight, but about, Candle Magic, my Dec 23 release with Siren. In my stories there’s always the tiniest part of truth from either my life or from some real life situation and I never tell anyone.
In Candle Magic, my heroine, Simi, tells Jason, my hero, about her family. That part is a truth and it’s about me. Jason is part spirit, part angel made human through the magical connections Simi has triggered by finding a candlestick and buying old candles from an antique shop.
AUTHOR BIO:
Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal, fantasy, or suspense. Her books are always steamy. Her tag is, Cool stories: Hot love scenes.
Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique shop by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.
On the surface, Ashleigh had it all—money, a great career, and a successful husband. But behind closed doors, life wasn’t so pretty. Now she’s free, and determined to never let herself be vulnerable again. So when she gets an invite to her cousin’s wedding, she jumps at the chance to get away. The small town nestled at the base of the Rocky Mountains seems like the perfect place to unwind and start forgetting about her abusive ex-husband. The last thing she expects to see is her beloved cousin Laura marrying two men, and to find herself irrationally attracted to a pair of twins.
Scientist Scott and football coach Jack are a perfect pair of mountain lion shifters who made the horrible decision when they were young to break from tradition. Each married a woman who made his life miserable, rather than search for their destined mate. Now in their forties, they’ve all but given up on finding their mate—until they see her. All the signs show that Ash is their true mate. Jack is eager and ready to chase, but Scott’s scars run deep. Will they be able to overcome the past and create a new future?
Excerpt:
“Hey, Aunt Rosalie. Congratulations on finally marrying those two off.”
Jack kissed the woman, and Ash gulped air into her lungs. What on earth had happened outside when Jack and his twin, Scott, had touched her? It had been like they’d reached inside her and attached electrodes to her soul, shooting pleasure into her belly and destroying her ability to hold her own body weight. If Jack hadn’t stepped forward when he had, she would have ended up on the ground, a pulsing mess of sensations.
“Yeah, well they had to wait for the right woman to come along, didn’t they, Jack?”
Something almost stern in Rosalie’s tone snapped Ash’s attention back to their conversation and she watched a slash of red color Jack’s handsome face.
“Yes, they were much smarter than I.”
Oh, so he was married? He wasn’t wearing a ring, although that wasn’t a given for all men. Divorced, then? Or had he let someone go?
Rosalie turned back to her, blue eyes glowing with warmth.
“Jack have you met Laura’s cousin Ash? She’s a pharmacist from Toronto.”
Ash’s belly tightened as Jack’s sparkling ocean-blue eyes met hers, a smile tilting up his full lips.
“I did, outside for a moment, though I didn’t realize she was a pharmacist.”
Ash swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat and straightened her shoulders. She could do this. Conduct a conversation with a man she couldn’t keep her eyes off.
“What do you do, Jack?”
He grinned at her, that smile lighting its way down into the pit of her belly, pulling on an area between her thighs that Ash had believed had died a long time ago. After her ex-husband had done such a good job of destroying her self-esteem, she hadn’t thought a man would ever truly appeal to her again.
She squeezed her thighs together and almost gasped at the jolt of longing that just being so close to this man brought her. She’d never believed in lust at first sight, but this had to be it!
“I’m a football coach for the local high school. I played pro ball for a few years after college.”
Ash’s blood cooled like the heat had never been. He said that with such arrogance, as though it was actually impressive! She frowned and looked away. What was the easiest way of escaping? Maybe say she needed to go to the toilet?
“Oh, that’s nice. Would you excuse me? Rosalie, could you tell me where the bathroom is, please?”
Jack’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open slightly.
Yeah, I’m not impressed by the fact that you can kick a bloody ball around, buddy.
She smiled at Rosalie and tried to ignore the odd pain in her gut. Why would she want to stay and talk to a footballer, for God’s sake? Thick as a brick and more focused on his body than anything of importance.
Rosalie’s eyes widened as though she were shocked by Ash’s reaction, but Ash wasn’t budging. How stupid did they think she was to fall for the charm of a philanderer? Ash waited for the information she’d requested, smiling as sweetly as possible at her hostess.
“Head down the hallway there, and it’s the third door on the left.”
Ash gave Jack a half smile and bobbed her head. “Nice to meet you.”
She turned on her heel for the second time in ten minutes and headed off in the direction Rosalie had sent her.
The house was incredible. The ceilings were high and the rooms were spacious, yet had that cozy home feel that only special people managed. She stopped outside the bathroom and stared at the framed picture on the wall. It was of Tyler and Brandon, about fifteen years earlier. They were lanky and their noses were too big, yet their smiles were exactly the same. Cheeky and oh-so-charming. Her cousin was a lucky woman, indeed. Assuming of course they didn’t turn into the arrogant pigs most men could be. Though judging by their mother, they’d be skinned alive if they did.
“I love that photo.”
Rosalie had snuck up behind her and poked her nose over Ash’s shoulder.
Ash turned and smiled at the proud mother. “My cousin seems very happy, Rosalie. I’m so glad she’s found someone…ah…” Laura was sorta married to both of them, right? Ash had read the invitation wrong and turned up two hours early. She’d been shocked at first to see two grooms surrounding her cousin, but Laura’s happiness had been so evident, it was impossible to judge her harshly. “I mean, men who will look after her, love her.”
Rosalie swiveled so she was blocking Ash’s escape into the bathroom, her abundant figure beautiful in its feminine shapes.
“She is, but so are they.”
Ash nodded. “I don’t know your sons at all, but I do know Laura. That woman is a gem.”
Rosalie crossed her arms over her impressive bust and looked at her with intense eyes. Ash cocked her head at the older woman.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Rosalie?”
Rosalie’s beautiful eyes were troubled as she worried her lower lip with her teeth.
“My sons are a perfect pair. Which means that they are perfect compliments to each other, in both looks and personality. Pretty much think of it as your perfect man, divided into two.”
Ashleigh laughed, the bubbles spreading through her belly and out. She had to cover her mouth with her hand, she was so loud.
“Well, in my experience that would be the only way to get a halfway decent man.”
Rosalie frowned at her, and Ash stopped laughing. That was probably too much information for a woman she barely knew.
“Jack and Scott are a perfect pair also, so please don’t dismiss Jack because you think he isn’t educated enough. He has a college degree, but chooses to spend his life educating young men about the strength of their bodies. Scott is a scientist with the government, he chose a different path.”
Heat seared a path up Ash’s neck and blossomed across her face. The tone Rosalie had just taken with her could only be called chastising, and she was feeling it right down to her sickened belly.
Guilty as charged.
“I don’t like football, or footballers, Rosalie. I have just endured a very nasty divorce, so please excuse my rude behavior. I’m not interested in anyone, especially two men who…”
She trailed off, her cross-referencing brain pulling together fibers she wasn’t sure she should.
Two men! Oh my God!
She took a breath and stared directly into Rosalie’s blue eyes, seeing the truth there before she even asked the dreaded question.
“Rosalie, do all perfect pairs marry one woman?”
She placed her hands on her hips and barely stopped herself from tapping her foot when Rosalie looked down for a moment.
Then the woman looked back up, her mouth tight as she nodded. “Yes. They are designed to find one perfect woman for them.”
Left adrift after escaping from an abusive relationship and being constantly on the move in an effort to stay one step ahead of his abuser has left Salem Rooks with little in the way of personal connections in his life. So when Salem bumps into an attractive stranger on his way to work one morning he isn’t expecting it to lead anywhere. He certainly isn’t expecting it to change his life.
Wyatt Pendleton is handsome, sweet natured, and homeless. Drawn to the quiet strength Wyatt exudes Salem finds himself pulled back to the man’s side time and time again. Working through their differences is a challenge, as is the ever looming shadow of Carter, Salem’s abusive ex, to deal with. Despite that Salem finds that he and Wyatt are both willing to fight and overcome all of it in order to protect the home that they’ve found in each other.
EXCERPT:
He wanted Wyatt fiercely in that instance and his hands moved down of their own accord to pluck at the waistband of Wyatt’s pants. He was all set to tug at it, to finally see what Wyatt’s cock looked like when one of Wyatt’s hands suddenly wrapped around his fingers and tugged them away. Startled, Salem pulled back far enough to look Wyatt in the face.
Wyatt was flushed, his cheeks red above the dark line of his beard, his lips kiss swollen and his eyes bright with want. Salem’s own face felt hot, the skin of his cheeks and around his mouth rubbed tender by Wyatt’s beard. He leaned forward to kiss Wyatt again, but to his surprise and slight hurt Wyatt shook his head slowly. Salem sat frozen as Wyatt raised a hand up to slowly, carefully, cup his jaw in the warmth of his palm instead in a gesture that had quickly grown familiar between the two of them.
“We can’t, Salem. Not now, not just yet.” Wyatt’s voice was a deep, throaty rasp that made Salem’s stomach flutter for a brief second before he focused on what had been said.
“Why not?” Salem cleared his throat and did his best to ignore the huskiness of his own voice as doubt crept up on him suddenly. It was enough to break through the passionate haze that had fallen over him. “Do you not want me?” Salem shifted nervously where he was pressed against Wyatt’s body as he waited for the answer. He was sure Wyatt did want him, but he still felt compelled to ask. He could feel the line of his cock pressed against his own hip, a thick hot weight that made Salem want to sigh in anticipation, but it suddenly wasn’t proof enough. He’d been wrong about so much in the past that Salem needed the reassurance.
“I want you.” Wyatt replied instantly before he leaned back down into Salem’s space to nip and suck at his earlobe. Salem shuddered. “I’ve wanted you for weeks now. I’ve imagined being with you, in you, a hundred times. I’d daydream about kissing you, about how you’d taste, what you’d feel like. Wanting’s not the issue, Salem.”
Life on Earth ended as Callie O’Doyle knew it six months earlier when aliens invaded much of the planet, including the quiet harbor town where she lives. As she walks home late one night from work, she comes face to face with an alien in a spacecraft who injects something into her arm. When she wakes, she’s no longer on Earth, and the male alien has brought her to his home.
Although Jakara is physically appealing and doesn’t mistreat her, it’s also clear he’s taken her prisoner, and he gives her no choice but to submit. The longer Callie gives her body to this mysterious man, the more quickly her heart follows.
But as their feelings for each other grow, so does the danger they’re in. Jakara broke all the rules when he took Callie for his own, and if she’s found, it will mean their death.
Excerpt:
Callie’s entire body trembled. She could hardly be called experienced in bed, but she wasn’t a virgin. What harm could this do? She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. But what would happen afterward? Would he go back on his word and send her to the other men to be used as a sex toy?
Jakara moved closer still, and now she caught his scent. It was nothing she could identify, but it ramped up her arousal until she could hardly stand still. Every fiber of her being ached to touch him. When he cupped her face with two strong hands, she couldn’t stop the moan.
“You want me. Admit it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to fear from me. I can’t impregnate you, and we’re immune to your diseases.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t even process what he’d just said. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was that full mouth on hers.
He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds, and she had no clue what he’d done to her, but her body relaxed a bit. Then he bent his head and kissed her. Callie would have fallen if he hadn’t encircled her in strong arms. She parted her lips to let his tongue inside, and moaned loudly in the back of her throat as his teeth and tongue assaulted her mouth.
The eternal question of how aliens kissed was finally answered. They kissed like nothing she’d ever experienced or imagined during long, lonely nights. She wrapped her arms around his torso, barely able to reach around him. His body was tight and warm against hers, and as he stepped closer still she felt the unmistakable bulge of a huge cock brush her abdomen.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and moved his lips and tongue over hers. Callie groaned deeply as crazy desire swept through her. Her pussy was soaked, and her clit throbbed. She was going to come and all he’d done was kiss her.
When he released her, his eyes were darker than they’d been earlier, and it was obvious he was trying to control his raging lust. He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a feather, and dumped her unceremoniously on the bed. As he shed his clothing, she sat up and stared at him with her mouth open. He looked human in every way, but the muscles and tats covering his body were nothing she’d ever seen. He was beyond beautiful.
And his dick … red, swollen, and already dripping with pre-cum. She licked her lips, unable to tear her gaze away.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
She nodded because her voice seemed to have disappeared.
They fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human world…
Petúr always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland.
Ever since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple the Dark?
“My room.” Five rapid heartbeats later, they were inside his bedroom with Petúr kicking the door closed behind them. “I need to know something,” he said in his honey tones.
Wyndi glanced up at him from under her lashes, and shivered. He was staring at her with eyes glinting gold. The braid he wore in his hair dangled down the right side of his cheek, tickling her.
“What do you want to know?”
“This.”
Petúr bent his head, slanted his mouth over hers, tongue tasting the line of her lips until she parted them on an intake of breath. When their flesh met, she closed her eyes. Fireworks exploded inside her head, the luminous sparks floating, then falling, falling, and transitioning into a force crashing down over her—a title wave of longing. She moaned, tasting the summer sky, morning dew, the sweetness of rainbows, sultry nights, and rain storms.
Mind whirling, her body shifting, she was lying on her back, fingers tangled into the nape of Petúr’s satiny hair, the other hand pressed against the steely strength of his shirt-covered chest. Every part of her became aware of him on some sort of molecular level. Yet nothing could have prepared her for what she experienced when he tucked himself between her thighs and groaned. Heat slammed into her core. Her stomach quivered. Her panties dampened. An inferno. Yes, surely it must be an inferno which lapped at her skin while their tongues tangled into infinity.
****
Petúr was lost in an ocean of sensation, wave after wave, pulling him under. The connection to this woman beneath him was undeniable. Everything about Wyndi filled him up until there was nothing but her. Her taste. Her touch. Her scent. His chest expanded.
Damn, her scent. She tasted better than the cotton candy fragrance that wafted from her skin. Skin. Oh, yes, skin. That’s what he needed, to feel her soft skin against his.
“Wyndi.” He breathed, saddened to break the kiss, reaching over his shoulder, yanking the material of his shirt, lifting up with the other hand, and pulling the garment from over his head. “I must feel your flesh against mine.”
Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Was she nervous? Well, he’d be the balm to soothe those nerves. He focused on her mouth. Those delicious lips were kiss swollen and moist, making his cock strain even more against the constraint of his pants.
“Okay,” she said in a small, breathy voice, the lids covering her blue eyes at half-mast.
He reached for the hem of the too big nightshirt covering the body he had to see, lifting until he revealed her little white panties and lacy bra covered breasts. Blood raced through his veins. He wanted to do everything with her. To her. Touch all over. Taste every inch of her. Put his fingers and cock into the tight, warm sheath he knew was awaiting him.
Take her. Hell yeah. Those two words became a chant within his mind. He wanted to take his woman in every position he could imagine and then some. His woman? Yes. Yes she was his, or would be. Slow your roll. You don’t want to scare her. He had to maintain. He couldn’t go at her like some out of control beast.
Leaning down, he kissed between the creamy mounds of her cleavage, skimmed his cheek across the apex of her right breast, watching goose bumps scatter across her flesh in a wanton invitation. Unable to stop himself from licking her, he lapped at her in one, long, lingering stroke, from the top edge of the bra, up her collarbone, only stopping because the material he’d lifted hindered his progress being bunched around her neck.
London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.
Marin was a cursed merman. Where he once walked the streets of Atlantis—where he found his true love—he now swam, alone. Until he was offered a way out: out of his curse and into the heart of another. But would he be able to love another as he did his true love?
Marley was a loner, a treasure hunter with wild theories about Atlantis who fantasized about mermen. He’d always felt a little out of place, always searching for something, and wanting nothing more than to belong to someone completely.
Between them lay several lifetimes and a wicked sorceress bent on possession. Is a soul deep connection enough to bring them together and to break a curse that was meant to never be broken?
Excerpt:
“Marin? Do you believe in fate? In reincarnation?”
“Reincarnation?”
“Past lives. The soul living beyond the death of one body into another.”
“Ah, yes. Transmigration. As it so happens, I do. Why do you ask?”
Marley sighed, flexing his fingers ever so slightly. Just enough to barely touch Marin’s. “I think I may have known you then. From before.”
“I think so too, Marley.” Marin held his breath momentarily before he continued. This was the time. This was it. “Aeëtes, his eyes—although everyone in his family had eyes of as dark as the night sky, my Aeëtes’s eyes were a striking blue. As blue as the Aegean Sea or a sky on a clear winter’s day. With one exception. His right eye was two colors. Partly the beautiful blue, but like a wave lapping the shore, the blue met with a golden brown.”
Marley’s breath caught as Marin described eyes that were identical to his own. Even down to how his parents’ eyes were of a drastically different color. No one could ever explain why there was such a difference; they just accepted it as part of who Marley was. “Like mine.” It was barely a whisper, but enough for Marin to hear.
Deidre Meyrick is a lover of happy endings, and believes in taking advantage of the good in any moment. She’s a glass half full kind of optimist with a dash of realism and hedonism thrown in, and maybe a splash of rum for good measure. We only live once, right? She’s lived in several states but calls the Florida coast home, where on any given day you may find her sitting on the beach with her toes in the sand and a notebook in her hand.
Brandy Carver was living her dream of making clothing for real, every day women. When she gains the wrong kind of attention from a man that doesn’t have “no” in his vocabulary there’s only one action to take—returning home where she’s safest, and where she can finally breathe once more.
Anthony “Crank” Romero, former Marine turned gentleman farmer, is willing to admit he’s a bit of a ladies man. The truth is he’s only looking for the right woman. Finding her when she’s got trouble on her tail wasn’t his plan, but he’s not about to argue when he’s tasked with keeping her safe.
Discovering Brandy’s interests in the bedroom makes Crank realize they are perfect for each other. Knowing he can’t let her go, not when she’s his perfect other half, he’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure that they have a chance at their fated love.
WARNING: Anal Play
Excerpt:
His phone ringing brought him out of the workout zone he’d fallen into. It also nearly caused him to drop the weight on his own foot. Thankfully, he managed to catch it—just.
Grabbing up his phone, Anthony frowned at the caller ID. “Crank here,” he said.
“That’s creepy, dude, stop that,” Rhys Hollister said to him.
He couldn’t have stopped the grin if he’d wanted to. “Crank does whatever Crank wants.” He knew how much the third person speak irritated Rhys. It was half the reason he did it around his former CO.
“I will beat you within an inch of your fucking life, Tony.”
Snickering, he let it drop and eased to sit on the workout bench. “What’s up, boss man?” he asked in all seriousness.
“I need to ask a favor, and yes, this will be on me.”
“Okay, what do you need?” he asked cautiously. While he’d do anything for Rhys, or the other men from his unit, that particular phrasing had him slightly worried and mildly curious.
“You may recall the Carvers took a hit the other day.”
Yeah, he did. “The youngest was killed, wasn’t she?” he asked quietly.
“So we all thought. Turns out it was a decoy she’d hired to keep the psycho who thought he owned her off her tail while she made her way home. Only the guy, a Colton Brody, got to the woman who was using Brandy’s name, cards, and so forth.”
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed out. “Was she dating the guy or something?”
“One date from what Brant and Frank told me. The guy latched onto her and isn’t the sort to let her go. He’s highly possessive from all the pieces of information we’ve gathered. He also is part of the NYPD family. His father’s a cop, his father’s father, and so forth. They have huge history with the force.”
“And cops protect cops,” Anthony said. Yeah, he knew how that went. The mythical Blue Line wasn’t really all that mythical if you went head to head with a cop. All you ended up with was an entire force out to get you. Not good.
“Yeah. She’s filed paperwork with IA up there, but says that anything against the Brodys tends to magically disappear if it isn’t misfiled, or incorrectly filled out. Funny how that shit tends to happen with the most rotten of the bunch.”
Rhys sounded pissed. Perfectly understandable from Anthony’s point of view. “I take it that Brant’s going to do something with his connections?” It was his baby sister, after all. Of course the man would do something.
“Yeah, and Frank as well. Not quite sure what that particular Carver has planned. Quite frankly, I don’t think I want to know. I like the plausible deniability of things when it comes to shit like that.”
Something else Anthony understood fully. Snorting out a laugh, he rubbed a hand over his head. “So what do you need from me?”
“They need someone to help keep a watch on her. While they are busy digging into Brody’s life, his family’s lives, and everything else to do with them on top of the NYPD, they need someone to protect her.”
“Guard dog duty then,” he said.
“More or less, yeah. It’ll be more than that. Oh, and I should mention Theresa’s fully on board with this. It was her suggestion, actually. Mostly I think because she knows her own boys and how overprotective they can get.”
“Smothering is the word you’re looking for, Rhys.”
“Shut up,” he muttered.
He grinned. Rhys was a big brother as well, so he damn well knew the point Anthony was trying to make. Especially since Rhys’s own baby sister was married into the Carver clan. To Brandy’s twin no less.
Now that Sinclair has her men and Candy has reunited with her Sheriff, they spend time together, connecting and building friendships. The two best girl friends will always be there for one another and Ashton and Craig are glad Reece is back in town. Winners is a denouement of Fated and Destined, marking the growth and development of these interesting relationships. With some smoking hot sex too.
Having a relationship with your boss is never easy, especially when it involves kink. Jamie might need to salute Eva and call her Ma’am at work, but when it’s just the two of them, he is Master to his puss.
They are determined to make their unusual situation work, but, first they have to solve the case of the shady next door neighbors.
Excerpt:
Why the hell did she look familiar? Jamie scratched the ears of Russ, and searched his brain. He’d seen her before, he was sure of it, but for the life of him couldn’t think where. He hoped to god it wasn’t somewhere that could jeopardize this job.
The voluptuous woman standing in front of him was, he judged, in her early to mid forties, so around ten or twelve years older than him, with a body he itched to taste. Those curves were made for him to touch and hold and…whoa, hold it there. She’s not one of the subbies who want a little bit of pain, nipple clamps, a nice crop mark over their ass, and a butt plug. She’s just someone on this postal round that may or may not know something to help me. More’s the pity. He coughed to regain her attention.
“Bad news?”
“What?” The woman—Eva—looked up from the paper in her hand with a peculiar smile on her face. “Oh no just the opposite. Am I last on your route like normal?”
He nodded. “Well you’re last on my route anyway.”
“Good, then you can come in and tell me all about it.” She unlocked the door and preceded him into the kitchen. “Russ can come in as well. I can’t be doing with chasing after him again. Although he has a well honed sense of preservation, and after the first kick up the jacksie the asshole, sorry my neighbor gave him, he only heads off in that direction when their car has gone down the lane.”
Jamie shut the door behind them. Even though the day passed as warm for Scotland, there was enough humidity to make the midges a pain in the ass. A pain everywhere in all honesty. He scratched a bite and made a mental note to put repellant in the van the next day.
“Here.” Eva handed him a small bottle. “Antihistamine. It’ll stop you itching. At this time of year the midges are horrendous. Lovely long evenings that I admire from behind glass, and watch clouds of the buggers trying to get in. Remember, repellent is your best friend on this route.” She picked up the kettle and turned on the tap.
Jamie laughed. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Eva spun round from the sink, unheeding of the water that spilled over her hands and dripped onto the floor. “Why did you call me Ma’am?”
Now he was confused. “Well, you sounded bossy. Sorry, I thought you’d get the joke. You know Ma’am, in charge sort of thing. I’m sorry if it upset you.” Shit, I hope she’s not one of those touchy feminist types.
“Not at all. I just wondered why Ma’am.” She turned back to the sink, switched the tap off and then the kettle on before mopping the floor. Only then did she swivel around to face him again. “And yes, Sergeant, you can call me Ma’am, if you want to. Otherwise, here, Eva will be fine.”
He knew fine well his jaw dropped. She’d made him? How the fuck?
Eva smiled at him. “Sorry Sergeant.” She waved the letter he’d brought, and she’d signed for. “It doesn’t matter how often I tell them that post to this neck of the woods takes longer than in the city, do they ever listen?” she asked—rhetorically he assumed. “Oh no,” she went on. “They post this at some stupid hour of the night and expect me to get it the day after. Not only that some penny pinching asshat put a second class stamp on it. So, Sergeant James Swinton, from a different area of the force, How about telling me what you’ve found out.”
He shut his mouth, and swallowed heavily. “Ah. Oh bollocks, am I deep in the shit?”
“Ah, indeed.” Eva reached into a drawer and took out small leather wallet. “And no, not at all, unless you think you should be for not recognizing me.” She went bright red. “Although I’ve only had brief contact with you. I…er…taught a session when you were on a training course last year.” She, handed him the wallet, and he saw what was inside.
A warrant card with her photo on and stating she was a Chief Inspector in the Scottish Police force. Okay, he’d buy that, even though it was the biggest cock deflator since Sadie Stewart laughed at his attempt to find her clit. Mind you he was only a teenager at the time, and his aim and attention to the female body had improved considerably since then.
“Ma’am.” He snapped to attention and she laughed.
“I’m allegedly on holiday, and you’re allegedly a postie, so we can cut the formalities I reckon. Time enough to get out the tags and labels when we have to. You’re a long way from home, why did they choose you?”
Why did he think she was deliberately changing the subject? Oh she’d taught him, he didn’t disbelieve that, but there was something else, he’d stake his pension on it. Now he thought about it, he couldn’t believe he’d missed the connection. However this luscious woman with, he reckoned, braless breasts covered in a soft lawn gypsy style blouse, teamed with a long almost see through maxi skirt was nothing like the stern-faced woman in uniform that had addressed his class. Only the eyes were the same. A deep glittering blue-green that reminded him of the Caribbean Sea. As he stared into her eyes, a dim memory teased him. Where else had he seen eyes that beautiful color?
Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.
Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.
I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.
Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.
It might look weird for a musician to *fangirl* another musician, but Ed Finley didn’t give a damn. He adored and had a crush on singer and pianist, Gavin O’Malley—to the point of sticking O’Malley’s pin-ups all over the walls of his room. Ed thought his dream had come true when he was scheduled to perform together with his idol on stage.
Gavin O’Malley thought Ed was okay when they ended up being together that night. The night meant everything to Ed, while it was only another one-night stand for Gavin.
Ed decides to stay away while Gavin, after rejecting Ed, couldn’t stop thinking about the other man. Will Gavin get a chance to tell Ed his true feelings?
Excerpt:
As soon as he got to L.A., Ed realized the mistake he’d made. Everything reminded him of Gavin, especially the invites to small jam sessions and dinners with fellow artists. He’d tried to avoid them all, but Nina, his assistant, kept reminding him not to miss those occasions.
“Don’t you see that I’m a human being, too? I’m tired, okay?”
Instead of answering, Nina squinted at him before she thrust an envelope at him.
“What’s that?” Suspicion crept into his heart.
“A live awards ceremony. Music awards. Next week.”
“Oh.” He took the invitation and looked at the card. It was a national show and it was going to be aired live on a major channel. It was a big deal. He glanced back at Nina. “Am I a nominee or something?” That was impossible. He’d have found out right away if he was nominated in a category. “Or am I going to present an award? How did you get this invitation?” Nina knew very well this wasn’t his type of thing.
She chuckled softly. The traitor.
“Relax. I didn’t have to kiss someone’s ass or get down on my knees for this. You’re an online phenomenon, Ed. They knew they’d get more publicity if they had you at their show.”
Ed wasn’t particularly afraid of what Nina would do if she wanted something, though he did worry about her sometimes. She’d do anything to get the things she wanted. But this was going to be a huge event with hundreds of celebrities. It was harmless. Safe. Even if Ed saw him there, he could easily slip away and hide. He sighed.
“All right. I’ll go.”
“Yay. I’ll RSVP.”
Ed rolled his eyes as he turned his back on a delighted Nina, who was already on the phone.
The invitation ruined the plan he’d made. Without Nina’s knowledge, he’d made a reservation to rent a cabin on a vineyard resort he often went to in Northern California. He needed fresh air and a place to clear his head. He’d thought being in L.A. would help, but the feeling that he could run into Gavin in any corner of the city kept haunting him. The shame—Ed could not get rid of it. He was lucky Gavin hadn’t talked to a tabloid about how Ed Finley literally threw himself at him and thought he had a chance to be Gavin O’Malley’s boyfriend.
A week or so on the vineyard would do him good. Too bad Ed had to postpone it now. He took a shuddering breath and cooked up another plan. The minute he left the award show, he would be on his way to escape to Moonshine Valley.
****
Nina walked ahead of Ed on the red carpet. He smiled inwardly at the sight of her—a diminutive figure, yet looking confident and ready to take any action Ed needed her to. Tonight she was lit up in her small, bright red dress with her golden hair tied up into a small chignon. She was pretty, Ed would give her that. He wouldn’t mind having her as his girlfriend if he liked girls. As it was, Ed didn’t mind taking her as his date tonight, though she might have minded if he’d insisted on going in his shirt and jeans.
“Ed!”
Ed jerked his head up. “Yeah?” He had been unaware of zoning out for a second there.
Nina gestured at him impatiently, so he headed toward her. She was standing near the velvet railing with a man on the other side of it who had a microphone in his hand.
“Hi,” greeted Ed. “How’re you doing?”
“Can you believe it? Louis Montague from the blog Louis’ Notes, himself! He wants to talk to you, Ed.” Nina sounded too chirpy for his liking, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion because the girl knew him well. He turned back to the man and offered his hand. Louis accepted and shook it hard.
“Ed Finley. It’s so great to finally see you.”
“Hi, Louis. Glad to see you too. I hope you like my songs.”
“Like your songs? I love them. They’re brilliant, man.”
“Come on.” Ed felt positively embarrassed. After all this time, he still couldn’t believe people actually listened to his work. He looked around and cursed silently when he found that Nina had disappeared.
“I’m serious. They’re emotional and fans really relate to them. I can’t stop listening to them. What’s coming up next from you?”
“Um.” Ed scratched his head, then promptly removed his wandering fingers. He’d spent more time than was necessary trying to tame his red curls, and he knew Nina would scold him for ruining them. “I write songs every night or between shows. I can’t stop the ideas from coming into my head. They keep bugging me until I write them down.”
“Sounds so easy for you.”
“Oh no, not at all. They’re raw ideas and thoughts. Mostly I still have to find the right tune for them, not to mention the lyrics and the music arrangements. Half of the raw ideas I have had have ended up in the garbage bin. Only half became full songs and just one or two of them get to be produced.” Ed thought he heard Louis mutter something. “Excuse me?”
Louis shook his head. “Nah. Just—if I tried to write songs, they would all get dumped.”
Ed snickered. “You don’t know that. You should try writing someday if you get an interesting idea.”
“I’d rather listen to yours, thanks.” Louis smiled widely. “So are you going to present an award tonight?”
“No. I’ll just sit tight and sweet in the audience. My pretty Nina did a good job finding me a place in there. She—” Ed waved sideways and stopped short. He gaped and his breathing became erratic. He hadn’t expected anyone to be standing next to him, to be so close to him, like…like…
Iyana writes M/M short stories and novellas. Her works have been published by Evernight Publishing, JMS Books, Books to Go Now, Torquere Press, Bitten Press, Leap of Faith Publishing, Breathless Press, and Alfie Dog Fiction.
Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams, though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather than sleeping.
Another thing Iyana loves is kitties. Right now she has three of them. Their names are Cil, Horus, and Betsy, and one kitten. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would play with her when she writes.
‘He was everything she needs and everything she can never have.’
Meticulous planning sees Ivy half way across the world, with a new identity. But Blake is no ordinary ex-husband, he is a corrupt private investigator with links to London’s underworld.
Eric Prescott, a handsome and successful property developer knows Ivy is hiding something, and from someone. At first Eric only wants to help, but soon finds himself falling for this beautiful woman with the haunted eyes. In one night of explosive passion, Ivy finally gives in. And discovers love, the way it’s meant to be.
Ivy finally dares to believe she is free, but soon faces losing all that she has come to love the day when her ex-husband is released from jail. She knows it is only a matter of time before he will return to serve the full force of his deadly vengeance.
Excerpt:
At precisely seven o’clock, the intercom sounds, and I press the button allowing access to the inner building. I cross the room to unlock the latches on the front door, leaving it slightly ajar.
Dashing back into my bedroom, I grab my clutch, phone and lip gloss. Quickly, I apply a light spray of my favorite perfume. When I return to the lounge, the front door is closed but the room is empty.
The picture on the wall is now hanging straight.
My heart gallops irregularly in my chest as I realize I didn’t check that it was Eric before I pressed the button.
Could Blake be here?
Breathe. In … out … in … out. I order myself to calm. The horror of my marriage with Blake returns in a single, sickening rush. What will he do when he finds me?
“Hello?” I call out, but my voice is raspy, barely a whisper.
I desperately hope for Eric’s easygoing greeting to ring out, but there is nothing but silence. My blood runs cold, and I can’t breathe.
My mobile slips from my shaking fingers. The thud as it hits the floor startles me out of shock, and I bend down to retrieve my phone. My lifeline.
Gripping my bag tightly, I estimate there are ten steps to the door. Silently I take the first few steps. On my fifth step, a shadow moves to my left, and I bolt the last distance and fling the door open with enough force that it bounces off the wall. I run to the elevator instead of the stairs, hoping it will be faster.
I jab frantically at the button. The screen indicates it has just left the ground floor.
“Ivy!”
It’s not going to arrive in time. I bounce up and down on the spot. Do I have time to take the stairs?
I’ll have to run past my front door to get there. Can I even run down the stairs in these shoes? I won’t have time to take them off; they have tiny buckles. Irrational thoughts flood through my mind, and I imagine myself stumbling and falling down the stairwell, only to land in a crumpled heap at the bottom.
Hurry up, damn it. The elevator has reached the second floor. There are six more to go.
Perhaps I should take the stairs?
“Ivy.” The voice permeates the fog of panic in my mind. It doesn’t sound like a sword being drawn out of a scabbard, sending cold shivers down my spine. It sounds soothing, like a cup of warm chocolate. The voice is calling for Ivy, not Sarah.
My mind blanks, and slowly, I turn towards the voice. The elevator rings, signaling its arrival. I can escape now. I look at Eric’s concerned face and realize there is no need to run. He puts a bottle of wine and a glass down on the ground just inside my apartment door and stands in front of me, grasping my shoulders.
“Ivy, are you okay? What is it?”
I realize how I must appear, like a wild animal that has just been through the throes of a chase from a predator. Eric pulls me to him in a powerful crush.
“Jesus, you are shaking like a leaf.” He runs a hand up and down my back, and I can hear his heartbeat, strong, calm, and reassuring through his chest.
Relief that Eric is here and not Blake, hits me with a powerful rush. Pulling away, I try to stand, but my knees wobble then buckle beneath me. When I hit the cold floor, I start to cry from the reminder that this is still far from over.
I still live with extreme fear that Blake will find me. And of what will happen when he does.
Strong arms lift me and through my sobs, and I hear the door shut. Finally, I begin to quiet enough to hear his soft, soothing words murmuring against my hair.
As my strength begins to return, I wriggle out of his arms. “Did you straighten that picture?” I demand.
Eric shrugs. “It was crooked.”
“Well, don’t … just don’t touch my things, all right?”
“Okay.” His face falls, and I immediately feel bad. He can’t possibly know that every day for years I lived with Blake’s obsessive compulsion to have things absolutely straight, and ordered the way he wanted it, right down to the cutlery in the drawer and the type of food we kept in the fridge.
I glance uneasily over to the vertical strip on the kitchen blind, and a shiver rolls down my spine. I still think I would have noticed it at some point before tonight. I have been living here for months now.
I can’t shake an instinctual feeling that he has been here, and it’s what caused my apparent over-reaction tonight. No matter how hard I try I can’t dislodge the thick and heavy sense of foreboding that has settled over me.
“Can you tell me what put that look of terror on your face and caused you to run for your life just now?”
My eyes take in the bottle of wine and empty glass on the floor. I realize Eric probably went straight to the kitchen when he arrived, casually straightening the picture on his way past. I cringe at how I must appear to him.
“You thought it was him. You thought he found you.” It wasn’t a question, but I nod anyway, not trusting myself to speak past the constriction in my throat.
“And the picture, straightening it is something he would do.”
Once again, I nod yes, and tears roll silently and unchecked down my cheeks.
“Oh Eric, I am so sorry.” A huge sob escapes, resounding loudly in the small room. I look away as embarrassment heats my cheeks.
Athena Daniels is the pseudonym of a wife, mother and business partner who takes any opportunity she can get to disappear into the world of fantasy. When not reading she writes romantic suspense. Hot, steamy romance where complicated and damaged characters are thrown together in suspenseful drama.
One day, she hopes to fulfil her dream to write full time. In the meantime, she hopes you enjoy her debut novel, Desperate. If you follow the scent of coffee and chocolate, you will find her busy working on the sequel. Desperate: The Price of Freedom.
The first novel of a new series, Sage will be coming in 2015. It’s a steamy romantic suspense with a paranormal twist.
I don’t know what the New Year has brought for you, but for me comes a new release. Moon Dance. So what’s the story about? It is the usual girl meets girl and love begins to bloom. The problem is Raya and Amari are from opposite sides of the community and mistrust has always been a key factor between the two sides. What do you do when you are attracted to your enemy? After all Love is love, whatever shapes, colour or gender it comes in. It’s one of those times when you have to hold onto what you have just found – the chemistry between the two is strong but will it withstand the discovery related to Raya’s past? The finger points to her new love. So what next?
I will leave you with a teaser.
Blurb:
A quick pick up and a night of sex was just what Raya was looking for. Only meeting Amari set her insides on fire and she had to have more of this Indian beauty. Witches and shifters aren’t meant to bond only Raya and Amari can’t ignore the chemistry flowing between them. Trouble strikes the lovers when a past trauma hits Raya and Amari’s mother could be to blame. Finally Raya has a chance to get even with the old witch, who destroyed her life. When that revenge reveals that Raya’s past holds secrets she wasn’t aware of, it throws into question everything she believes in. Can the lovers unite to help Raya find her true self or is it all too late?
Excerpt:
“My mom practices a lot of the traditional methods she learnt as a child in India. People here call it the Craft, some use Wiccan to describe how they live.”
Raya was momentarily surprised, and then came to her senses when she thought about trying to explain her own background.
“Did that shock you?” Amari asked, stopping by her car.
“Not at all. I can trade your weird for my weird any day.” Raya smiled at Amari and was straight away captured by her brown eyes, reminding her of her orgasmic fantasy. Her pussy clenched just thinking about it again.
“Hey, I’m up for a trade anytime.” Amari giggled.
Raya watched her brown eyes sparkle as she giggled. It was beautiful, even the sound of her voice was like music to Raya’s ears. She reached out and stroked Amari’s cheek.
“Hmm, silky soft.” Raya leaned forward and met no resistance.
Amari’s pink, plump lips looked inviting. Raya brushed hers lightly across Amari’s who parted them slightly and her hand went to Raya’s waist. This was the green light that Raya wanted. She didn’t hesitate but continued to brush her lips against Amari’s until she felt Amari’s hand squeeze her waist. Then she deepened the kiss. She tasted and possessed as she let her tongue delve into Amari’s mouth, where she was met with equal enthusiasm by Amari’s tongue. Raya captured the tongue being offered and sucked, enjoying the wetness and the way Amari’s hands grabbed at her waist, bringing their bodies closer. Raya stroked Amari’s hair then fisted it in her hand. Her other hand stroked Amari’s breast, which was just as she imagined, full and overflowing in her hand. Raya’s pussy tingled, wanting in on the action.
A buzzing noise interrupted the moment. It was Amari’s phone. Raya stopped and Amari reached into her bag to pull out her phone to answer the call.
Michaela Rhua always dreamed of writing but this never happened until she met the lovely group of ladies known as UCW. Their passion for writing and encouragement inspired her to see if she could do it too. Now she is multi published and loves writing!
She has teenage children who also keep her busy. However, it is whilst travelling into work that she has time to create her characters and imagine other places in which they exist as her world skims by the window. Conversations overheard often lead to the birth of new ideas that she scribbles down in her trusty notebook.
Genre: Romance on the Go, Science Fiction, Contemporary, Gay, Erotic, May/December
Heat Level: 3
Word Count: 11,000
Blurb for Breeding Seth
Evan Zenas and Seth Trivos had a tumultuous start to their relationship which has finally mellowed out. But now, something is wrong with Seth. Concerned for his health, Evan convinces his boyfriend, Seth, to see the doctor, and the prognosis is alarming.
Seth is pregnant.
The mystery is how.
Not only is their relationship at stake due to the life altering news so is Seth’s life.
Be warned: m/m sex, anal sex, male pregnancy
Excerpt
He removed Evan’s cock from the confines of the clothes and then rubbed their dicks together.
Evan leaned his forehead on his. “God, Seth, I love how that feels.”
“I do too, but what I’d really like is to feel your hot, moist mouth wrap around my cock.”
Reaching out, Evan grabbed the top of Seth’s shorts, sweeping his fingers between the material and his skin. A devilish grin graced Evan’s face as he yanked and pulled down Seth’s shorts.
Not only did Evan rouse his libido in all sorts of sexy ways by just being him, Seth felt free, as light as the few fluffy white clouds in the sky. He stepped out of the clothing at his feet, delighting in the way Evan’s gaze roamed over his body.
As if knowing it was being viewed, Seth’s cock bobbed. Evan pushed his legs apart, knelt down on the red sand and situated himself in front of Seth. Lightly grasping Seth’s penis, Evan bent forward and kissed it, then licked under its rim, circling the hard length a few times. Blissful tingles raced along Seth’s cock then swept out along all his nerves. He sucked in a stream of air. “Zen, quit being a tease and suck it already.”
“You got it.” Evan slid Seth’s cock into his mouth and drew on it.
Seth clasped the back of Evan’s bald head and held him in place. As Evan sucked on him, he tilted his head back and gazed up at the radiant blue sky. A breeze blew through the canyon, whipping around them and the rocks. The air had a bit of chill to it, but the warmth of the sun and the heat of Evan’s mouth suckling on his cock immediately counteracted the nip he’d felt.
So far, the tryst was living up to his fantasy. The sun toasting his skin. The air teasing his body. Completely naked in public with the chance of getting caught. And all with the man he’d had a crush on in his youth, the man of his dreams.
Evan slurped off his dick and licked the length of his cock, rimming the lip of its head. Seth looked down at him.
“I love how you give head, Zen.”
“I love how you taste.” Evan winked and went back to engulfing Seth’s cock.
Taking in a deep breath, Seth bent his head back again. His gaze fell upon a pair of eyes staring down at them from atop another wall of rocks.
Jacey Holbrand believes love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share those kinds of stories with readers.
Now that the Christmas cookies are gone, gifts unwrapped, and your holiday visitors have left, you’ve earned some well-deserved TLC. Evernight authors not only have the cure for your holiday hangover, they have fantastic new books for your 2015 reading list, too!
Be sure to visit every stop on the hop and answer each question. The more blogs you hop, the more chances to win the GRAND PRIZE of an iPad Mini sponsored by Evernight Publishing (one entry per blog). Plus, hop each blog for a host of other fabulous prizes.
So sink into your favorite chair and enjoy your holiday hangover!
The prize on Lea’s blog: a copy of recent release The Perfect Shoot!
The Perfect Shoot is book one of the erotic interracial romance series Hot Model Mine, voted “Sizzling Read of the Month” for November 2014 at Sizzling Hot Books.
Surely, this story has to be every author’s fantasy: to meet the gorgeous cover model of your book! Erotic romance Andrea has had a secret crush on sex-on-legs model Yushka for a while, but when they meet at an author conference in Cannes and he insists on dating, she questions his sincerity – she’s not willing to have her heart hurt a second time, either. The problem is, the handsome young man just won’t take a no for an answer…
Enter for a chance to win Evernight’s GRAND PRIZE of an iPad Mini and my blog prize by answering this question (be sure to include your email address to be eligible to win):
Book two of the Hot Model Mine series, Mine to Love, is currently in the making. What would you want to see happen between Andrea and Yushka?
Now hop on to the next blog – your Holiday Hangover continues here!
Working undercover either has its perks, or it has serious downfalls. For Megan Jenkins, working as a stripper to uncover the illegal activities happening in Massey, TX, was definitely not her idea of fun. If she’d wanted men to leer at her half naked self, she was pretty sure she could have come up with something a lot more entertaining. For herself at least.
She’s been driving him more than a little crazy since he came to town. Simon Markham isn’t the sort of man to give up though. As a Marine he understands the need for stealth, and is more than willing to let things play out but only to a point. When Megan’s case begins to show promise, and not the good kind, he isn’t willing to stand idly by any longer. Whether she likes it or not he plans on watching over her, each and every single inch if he has his way.
Things begin to unravel for the Mayor of Massey when Megan and Simon stumble onto new information. The man becomes so desperate he actually kidnaps her to ensure she can never speak of anything she’s learned. But Megan knows that Simon isn’t about to let the man get away with it. Her Marine will come for her, and God help anyone in his way.
Time is ticking, the noose is tightening, and the bad guys think they are free and clear. They didn’t count on the DEA, and one very determined Marine to put a serious dent in their plans.
Rescuing Megan hadn’t been in his grand plan to woo her, but Simon isn’t about to let anything get between him and the woman he loves. Come hell, or high water, he fully intends on marrying his undercover lover.
Excerpt:
Holding his cup up, he tipped his head to Mercy when she refilled his coffee. “Thank you,” he said. When she patted him on his head, he rolled his eyes.
Brant Carver, Mercy’s husband, was laughing into his own cup of coffee. His expression changed to something softer when Mercy moved closer to him. Lowering the cup, he let her fill it, tipping his face up for the kiss she dropped on his lips.
Unable to help himself, Simon rolled his eyes again. This time, he knew no one saw him do it. They were too into one another. Taking a drink of his coffee, he set the cup down, and then began to drum his fingers on the table top. As the kissing continued, he progressively got louder, and louder.
Finally, Brant pulled away and turned a glower on him. “Is there a problem?”
“Was trying to determine if I should go to another room or not.”
“Why would you?”
“Well, given past experiences, I figured you were about ten seconds from tossing her onto the table and stripping her naked. Or maybe stripping her naked, and then throwing her on the table. Little unsure on that part. But I knew the end result would be something seared into my memories for the rest of time.”
Simon shot Mercy a grin as she turned pink. Brant was a rather interesting shade of red as well, likely more pissed than embarrassed, though. “Just saying it like it is. We all know how you two are, and you asked me over here for a reason, so spill it so I can get back to helping Vic with whatever insane project he’s dreamed up today.”
Brant really didn’t look amused, but he did seem to agree getting down to business was best since he let Mercy go and faced Simon across the table. “I need a favor,” he said.
“Gee, like I didn’t guess that from the phone call I got.”
“Are you always this much of a smart ass? Rhys never once mentioned you were a smart ass.”
“Rhys doesn’t know everything about me, or any of the guys really. But he does know I have a tendency to be a smart ass when people behave like I’m an idiot that needs to be led around by the nose. Spit it out already, Brant, or I’m heading out and you can talk someone else into being the sucker to watch over Megan.”
Snorting at the stunned look he got from Mercy, and the barely there flinch from Brant, Simon sat back in his chair. “Really, you two? Anyone that’s been in this town for more than an hour, and pays even the slightest bit of attention, knows that something’s going down. The fact that I happen to know several people out in this neck of the woods has allowed me to draw my own conclusions.”
“Like what?” Brant asked suspiciously.
“Well,” he drawled slowly. “Like the fact she’s not actually a stripper. She’s an undercover DEA agent working on a case that happens to have deep roots in Massey. I know she’s been digging around looking at the mayor. She’s also looking to see what she can find in regards to drugs being funneled into and through Massey. She’s close, but she’s missing something. Otherwise, she’d already be out and on vacation instead of going into the club every single night to shake her nearly naked ass for singles.” Simon shot Mercy a quick look before focusing on Brant again. “I know you’re DEA, you’re also the agent in charge down here since being reassigned so you could be closer to Mercy. You have a number of big busts under your belt, several commendations, and narrowly avoided getting stuck on the hook from another bust when some wanker took a case from you and fucked it up royally. Got his dad, your boss at the time, fired as I recall.”
“Close enough,” Brant muttered.
“You can’t go in to keep an eye on her since everyone in town knows your face. That and the fact you’re married to her twin sister. Might raise more than a few brows, and it’s not something you want getting around. Plus, given the smarts of the folks in Massey, they’d soon clue into the fact that you weren’t there to watch the girls but because of your job. Questions would then be raised, and if spoken of in the wrong place, the whole operation would go tits up, as it were.”
Brant grunted at him, and crossed his arms over his chest.
Taking it as a sign to continue, Simon took a sip of his coffee. “Good brew, by the way, Mercy,” he said. “So you want me, a single guy, new to town, to go in and keep an eye on her. It won’t seem too strange if I’m hanging around, especially given the fact that Crank’s out of town visiting relatives, and Vic’s making kissy faces at his bride. I’m odd man out, and need to find something to fill my time with at night. How am I doing now?”
“Rhys never mentioned you were practically a mind reader either.”
“I’m not, but I know people. I’ve also taken a few behavioral courses from the Feds over the years. I also have degree in psychology. Never put it to any use, but I figured I could always use it if the military didn’t work out, or if I needed a career when I got out. I watch people, take note of what they say, and what they don’t say. Then I start adding it all together.”
“Well, you’re right on pretty much everything,” Brant told him.
“So what am I wrong on?” Simon asked.
“Not much, except the premise I’m asking you to take on. Given you are new to town, and have been seen with Megan a couple of times, I want you to go in as her new boyfriend. Unhappy with her working the club, but since she’s bringing in the big bucks and enjoys the money, you’re there to keep an eye on her while she does work.”
“Uh-huh,” Simon said. “And you’ve cleared this with Megan, right?”
The look on Brant’s face said it all. “Not yet,” Brant told him. “Wanted to see if you were up for the task first.”
Snorting, Simon shook his head, and closed his eyes to rub at his lids. “She’s going to shoot you, you do realize that, right?”
“Probably,” Brant said. Oddly, the man seemed pretty happy about the thought. Idiot.
He was wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt with the ship’s logo on it. The dark fabric made his own natural coloring stand out even more. He sat down on the edge of my lounger near my hip, seeming pleased I’d noticed his absence.
Lea Bronsen 