Mistletoe Ménage by Molly Ann Wishlade

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GENRE: Christmas Rubenesque Regency Romance

WORD COUNT: 21,260

PUBLISHER: Evernight Publishing

RELEASE DATE: 9th December 2014

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BLURB:

It is 1816. Anne Blackburn is a voluptuous thirty-two year old widow. Due to her family inheritance and the fortune left to her by her husband, she is a wealthy woman, and she moves in the social circles of London’s upper class.

Anne has sworn never to marry again. However, she cannot help yearning to find out more about the pleasures of the flesh. Her deceased husband was more father than lover but she has felt passion once—before she married over six years ago.

Edward Moore loved Anne and proposed to her but when he left London to seek his father’s blessing, Anne was approached by Lord Moore’s lawyer who told her to forget Edward. If she refused, Edward would be disinherited. When Alfred Blackburn asked for her hand in marriage, Ann accepted to set Edward free.

Now there is an artist in London with a mysterious patron. Mr. Guy Harper provides the ladies he paints with certain erotic extras. When Anne commissions a portrait from him, she gets more than she could have imagined in her wildest dreams.

But will her mistletoe ménage become a painful humiliation or the stepping stone into her very own happy ever after?

 

BUY LINKS:

Evernight | Amazon.com | Amazon.uk | All Romance Ebooks

 

TEASER EXCERPT:

“Where have you been?” Edward snapped as he sprang to his feet.

Guy laid his hat and jacket on the chair on top of Edward’s then offered a conciliatory smile. “I have begun to seduce her, as you wished.”

Edward stared at the younger man. His face was flushed and beautiful with youth and happiness, and his eyes sparkled silver-blue like the snow under the crisp winter sun. He reached out and caressed Guy’s cheek, rasping his thumbnail against the stubble on Guy’s skin.

“How was she?”

Guy glanced at his feet and cleared his throat.

“Guy?” Edward’s heart pounded hard beneath his white cotton shirt as an idea began to unfurl in his mind. “Guy?”

The artist met his gaze and smiled. “She is…as you described. Beautiful, cultured, well-mannered. Though she was also…”

“Tell me!” Edward was surprised at his own tone. He had sent Guy out to Anne, knowing she was a widow now. She had been widowed eighteen months, in fact, but he’d been abroad when her husband had passed, and only returned six months since with Guy in his employ. As a widow, previously married to a much older man, Edward hoped she would now be ripe for the picking. All his memories of Anne were of a tender, voluptuous, sensual woman ready for marriage and mating. He had held back from taking her during their courtship in spite of his burning desire to make her his as soon as possible. He had been prepared to wait until they were safely wed before he bedded her, but then she had given herself to another. A fat, greasy businessman who was surely no match for her elegance and beauty. Yes, it was true that she had no family name to match his own, but he had not cared a jot for that. After seeing his parents’ loveless marriage, Edward had harbored no intentions of marrying for money and social connections. Perhaps he had been a romantic, a dreamer, a fool. Yes…he had been a fool because he had believed that she loved him as much as he loved her. She had broken his heart in two.

As he would hers. With Guy’s assistance.

“I went to her home as agreed, Edward. It didn’t take much to encourage her to allow me to sketch her.” Guy didn’t finish his sentence but Edward knew what he meant. Anne had allowed the artist to see her naked, in all her milky-white-skinned beauty as he had longed to do. Well, he would see her thus. And soon. But it might take one or two more visits from Guy first.

“But you did not…”

Guy shook his head. “No I did not take her fully. I kissed her and caressed her and tasted her. She really has the sweetest flavor, like honey-cake and madeira wine.” Guy licked his lips and Edward pulled him into his arms and kissed him hard. He pressed his tongue between Guy’s teeth and plundered the younger man’s mouth, desperate to find some trace of Anne. Guy responded to him, running his hands down over Edward’s behind, and squeezing his firm cheeks until Edward knew that they’d continue this until they were both spent.

Edward pulled away and stared into Guy’s eyes. “Will she surrender? Do you really believe she will?”

Something flashed across Guy’s face and Edward wondered at it for a moment. Was it guilt? Regret?

“I believe that she will, Edward. I truly believe that. She is lonely and needy. I don’t think she has been loved as a woman should. She is not like the others.” His golden eyebrows met above his aquiline nose as he frowned. “They are grasping, clawing, and it’s all about them. But Anne Blackburn, she responded so sweetly and so tenderly that it was hard to leave her. The others I could not wait to escape from once I had attended to their needs but with Anne…”

Edward swallowed hard. He could see in Guy that same affection growing for Anne that he had once felt. Was it because Guy was his lover and they were in some way similar in their tastes? Guy did not usually lust after women. He had lain with women of the ton for Edward’s sake so that his plan would work, but when they took a woman together it was Edward who desired the female presence most. Guy just seemed to go through the experience to please his patron. So Edward was surprised that Guy actually seemed to be attracted to Anne. Yet he should not be, because she truly was beautiful in an innocent yet worldly way. She was a walking oxymoron of naïve experience and virtuous passion—a spring waiting to be tapped like the one in Bath which offered restorative properties and improved health to those who drank from it. Would Edward’s mind and body improve under Anne’s tender ministrations? Lord knew that he had not been right since he lost her. He had never again experienced that same joy and hope that she had given him during their brief courtship. And though he knew that he wanted to hurt her, he also knew that a life without her in it would be a dull life indeed. But crush her he would to avenge himself for the way she had torn his heart and life to shreds.

“Undress, Guy.” Edward pulled off his own clothes and watched as his lover did the same. When they were both naked, Edward pulled Guy to him and kissed him again, this time more tenderly than before. Guy ground his hips into Edward so that their erections met and their mutual arousal intensified.

Edward reached around his lover and slipped his finger between the artist’s tight buttocks, sliding it into the tight heat that he longed to penetrate with his cock. Guy gasped against Edward’s mouth. “Let me suck you first.”

“Yes.” Edward allowed Guy to lower him to the bed, then he surrendered to the hot mouth and tongue of his lover, his pleasure all the sweeter because he knew that the very same lips had so recently caressed the woman he loved.

 

MOLLY’S LINKS:

Blog: http://misswishlade.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MissWishlade

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mollyann.wishlade

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/19556829-molly-wishlade

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/misswishlade/

 

AUTHOR BIO:

Molly Ann Wishlade has always been an avid reader and writer of stories. She regularly indulges her love of romance and passion by getting lost in the delicious worlds created by romantic novelists. When not reading, she’s busy with her current WIP, usually her next highly erotic tale about sexy and saucy cowboys and their lady loves – and sometimes their gorgeous male lovers too.

She wants to take readers on the rollercoaster that is life through the creation of vivid characters, relationships and worlds.
She loves to hear from readers.

 

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COVER REVEAL: Mistletoe Ménage by Molly Ann Wishlade

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It is 1816. Anne Blackburn is a voluptuous thirty-two year old widow. Due to her family inheritance and the fortune left to her by her husband, she is a wealthy woman, and she moves in the social circles of London’s upper class.
Anne has sworn never to marry again. However, she cannot help yearning to find out more about the pleasures of the flesh. Her deceased husband was more father than lover but she has felt passion once—before she married over six years ago.
Edward Moore loved Anne and proposed to her but when he left London to seek his father’s blessing, Anne was approached by Lord Moore’s lawyer who told her to forget Edward. If she refused, Edward would be disinherited. When Alfred Blackburn asked for her hand in marriage, Ann accepted to set Edward free.
Now there is an artist in London with a mysterious patron. Mr. Guy Harper provides the ladies he paints with certain erotic extras. When Anne commissions a portrait from him, she gets more than she could have imagined in her wildest dreams.
But will her mistletoe ménage become a painful humiliation or the stepping stone into her very own happy ever after?

Menage – The Wild, Wild West #3 – by Molly Ann Wishlade

Menage will be released by Carina UK on 1st August

Genre: Historical Western Romance

Series: The Wild Wild West Novella Series

 MENAGE COVER

BLURB:

Vulnerable widow Grace Holbein faces an uncertain future. Spurned by the town of Deadwood because of her violent late husband’s troubles she’s all alone in the world. With winter approaching the future looks bleak until two rugged cowboys ride up to her ranch looking for work in return for room and board.

Grace is wary of these handsome strangers; in her experience men are not to be trusted. However, Matt, fair and athletic, and Blake, dark and ruggedly handsome, are keen to prove to Grace that not all men are alike. The attention she receives from them both thaws her frozen heart and melts her inhibitions; she would welcome either one to warm her bed, but it’s a choice she finds impossible to make. In her dreams she’s allowed them both, but can her brazen desires ever be fulfilled in reality?

 

Here are two excerpts from the novella for you to enjoy:

“Hello there! Mrs Holbein?”

Grace peered up from the chicken coop at the approaching cowboys. They dismounted from their horses then walked towards the perimeter fence.

She was knee-high in straw and feathers as she gathered that day’s eggs, depositing them in a basket hooked over her left arm. She wasn’t expecting company and she didn’t recognise the two men. Her survival instinct kicked in, increasing her heart rate, and she quickly reached down and checked her right boot. The cold steel blade sat in its place, encased in the leather sheath, reassuring her with its sharp edge and fierce point.

“Hello?” She raised her voice to intimate that it was a question not a greeting. She straightened her back and wiped the perspiration from her upper lip with the back of her free hand.

The cowboys reached the fence. This close, she could see how big they were. Tall, broad-shouldered men. Large and masculine. They made her acutely aware of how petite and feminine she was.

How utterly defenceless.

She eyed them, her senses on high alert. Being a woman alone at an isolated homestead a few miles outside of Deadwood meant that she was constantly wary. Letting her guard down, even just a fraction, could have been fatal whether dealing with man or beast.

“Mrs Holbein?”

Grace met the blond man’s blue eyes and a shiver ran down her spine. They were as intense as the sky on a clear summer’s day. Beautiful, bright blue framed by thick black lashes. He rested his large, tanned hands on the fence. She found her gaze drawn to his long, slim fingers with their short nails and the tiny white-blond hairs on his muscular forearms which shone in the afternoon sun. This was a man who worked hard for a living. Outdoors. Probably with horses and cattle.

“Are you Mrs Holbein?” He repeated the question.

“That’s me. Whadda you want?” She pulled herself up to her full height. She could see that if she stood next to either man she would not reach his shoulders. As the cowboy searched her face, she let the basket swing in front of her body. An obstacle between them, to hide her figure from view. Protection. A barrier.

“We’re looking for work, ma’am,” the cowboy explained. He pushed his Stetson further back on his head and wiped his brow with a folded neckerchief.

“And what makes you come out here looking for it?” Grace scowled. She nudged an inquisitive chicken away from her skirts with her foot.

“We asked in Deadwood, ma’am. They said you was likely to need some help around your farm. In light of your…” He removed his hat. “Your recent loss.”

So they knew about Jack. That also meant that they knew she was alone and that she had no man to protect her. She took a steadying breath.

Keep calm. Show no fear.

“What’s your names?” She stalled. She had no intention of giving them more information about her circumstances than she needed to. She didn’t have the time for pleasantries. There was no time to waste in the day. No time at all. She was exhausted, run ragged trying to take care of the farm all alone. They had never had any hired help and life had been tough but Jack had insisted that they could do it all themselves. But now that he’d gone, she realised exactly how much he had done.

Around the farm and to her.

She shivered. Her corset grazed the spot below her left shoulder blade that never fully healed and she gritted her teeth together. Damned sensitive female flesh. She was filled with resentment for her own frailty.

“I’m Matt Huntley and this here’s Blake Donohue.” Matt gestured to his companion.

“Howdy, Mrs Holbein.” Blake doffed his hat. Grace swallowed hard. His hair was black and shiny as a raven’s wings and his eyes like pools of whisky. His face was tanned from being outdoors and he had a few days’ growth of stubble. But he was handsome as the devil himself. She shook her head.

A pleasing face did not equal a good heart. As she’d learnt. For the past five years.

 

****

She moved towards them. Brought their hands to her lips. Pressed her mouth to their fingers in turn. Both of them. At the same time. Leaving neither man out. Their skin smelt of pine and masculine warmth. She breathed it in, licking her lips as it fired her desire.

Matt gasped and she met his eyes. They were dark. His own lips slightly parted.

She glanced at Blake. His eyes echoed the need in Matt’s. What was happening here?

This wasn’t possible. She had dreamt of this even though she had denied it upon waking with her hands between her legs and her body coated in perspiration. Being loved by them both simultaneously.

She took a step closer to Matt and he lowered his head. He pressed his mouth to hers. He kissed her. Gently. Slowly. She leaned into him, feeling his body all along the front of her own. He was so hard, so strong, so desirable.

She forced herself to pull away then moved towards Blake. He wrapped his strong arms around her and returned her kiss. His mouth was firmer, more insistent. He pressed his tongue between her lips and delved into her mouth. She sighed and ran her own tongue over his. Tasting. Touching. Wanting.

He pulled her closer and she felt his erection against her belly. He was hard. He wanted her. She wanted him. But what about Matt?

She pulled away from Blake’s kisses and glanced at the other cowboy. He stepped closer and kissed her again while she was still in Blake’s arms.

So they were okay with this? They both wanted her? Like this? Her stomach flipped with excitement. How would this work?

Matt moved behind her and lifted her wet hair. He kissed the back of her neck and she shivered with delight. He kissed and nibbled her ears lobes and tickled them with his hot breath. So gentle. So new. She took Blake’s face in her hands and caressed his cheeks, his jaw, the tight cords which stood out in his thick neck.

As Matt ran his hands up and down her sides, nibbling and kissing her neck, Blake kissed her mouth, her throat, the tops of her breasts which rose and fell rapidly above her dress.

Then they began to undress her.

They gently stripped away her clothing. Pulled off her boots and stockings and unlaced her corset. All the while, still kissing and caressing her so that every inch of her body was aflame.

When she stood in just her shift before them, they quickly peeled off their own clothes.

Grace trembled. Being exposed in the past had heralded the advent of pain and fear. Agony that sometimes lasted the whole night through. If Matt and Blake had hidden their true selves from her and they were about to hurt her, then she would die in their arms. She would want to. Because finding out that they were not the good, kind men that she had fallen for would break her heart. And if that happened, then death would be a welcome escape.

She gazed at Blake. Naked, he was even easier on the eye than he was fully clothed. He was strong, muscular, firm. His body was hard and defined from his broad shoulders to his strong wide thighs. The ebony hair of his head was echoed across his chest in a light dusting and a line of hair ran from his chest down to his navel then to the patch of dark curls at his groin. From amidst them jutted his thick, erect cock. It stuck out from his body, dusky pink with dark, raised veins and a bead of moisture like a diamond at its quivering tip.

Rather than filling her with fear or revulsion, as Jack’s member had, Blake’s filled her with need. It was an extension of this gentle and desirable man. A part of him and what he had to offer. And she wanted it. Wanted him. Inside her.

A nudging at her back made her turn to Matt. He was as gorgeous as Blake. His skin as bronzed down to his waist then white where his flesh had not been exposed to the sun. His chest was hairless but at his groin, the curls were as golden blond as her own. His impressive erection stood to attention, as thick and hard as Blake’s.

They both wanted her. She hugged herself tight inside.

Matt pulled her into his arms and laid her down on the bed facing him. He kissed her softly at first but his kisses grew harder as he pulled her body against his own. His cock nudged at the front of her shift, pushing the thin material between her legs. All of her inhibitions drifted away as she gave in to the need and longing that pulsed through her core.

She had denied herself so much for what felt like a lifetime. Been afraid and numb for an eternity. But finally, she was free. Finally, she was beginning to open up, to surrender to what she wanted.

Behind her, Blake had begun to edge her shift up her legs. He kissed each patch of newly revealed skin. He got to her bottom and kissed the cheeks. It tickled and Grace wriggled on the bed, causing Matt to grind into her even harder. His cock slipped through the folds of her shift and between the wet folds of her sex, sliding around in her damp heat. She groaned, desperate to feel him pushing into her further so that he entered her body completely.

Her shift was up to her lower back now. And still Blake kissed her.

In front of her, Matt also lifted the material, exposing her pussy, her belly, her pert little breasts with their hard fuchsia nubs. Matt moved down her body and began to suckle her nipples, pulling them into his mouth in turn until she panted with need. All the times that Jack had taken her, he’d never stirred her like this. His hands on her breasts had been cruel and he had made her flesh crawl. Matt’s caresses made her want to scream with need.

At the same time he ran a hand down between her legs, pushing between her wet silken lips and rubbing at her swollen bud. She moved with his knowing hand, up and down, round and round. She pulled his head closer to her breasts, losing herself in pleasure.

 

BUY LINKS:

  1. COM

AMAZON UK

All Romance Ebooks

 

Molly’s Links:

Blog: http://misswishlade.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MissWishlade

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mollyann.wishlade

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/19556829-molly-wishlade

Total-E-Bound Blogspot on 12th of every month: http://totalebound.blogspot.co.uk/

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/misswishlade/

 

Scandal – The Wild, Wild West #2 – by Molly Ann Wishlade

Scandal will be released by Carina UK on 30th July

Genre: Historical Western Romance

Series: The Wild Wild West Novella Series

SCANDAL COVER 

BLURB:

Feisty ex-harlot Ellen Finch is finally free to escape her troubled past and make a fresh start, far away from the dusty town of Deadwood. But Ellen’s plans are interrupted when a dark and brooding stranger bursts through the doors of The Gem Theatre and Saloon begging for her help as a midwife.

Ellen can’t refuse his pleas, or allow another woman to suffer when she can help. Nor can she ignore the pang of regret she feels upon discovering this stranger is about to become a father; if only she’d had a man like Clayton Kile to care for her! Relief floods Ellen when she discovers the labouring woman is Clayton’s sister. Clayton can’t afford to pay Ellen for her help; instead he expertly demonstrates his gratitude!

It’s been years since a man’s passion has moved Ellen, but there is something about this cowboy that tugs at Ellen’s emotions and fires her own long latent desires. Ellen faces a difficult choice, surrender to the demands of her body and risk losing her heart to love, or follow her head and leave Deadwood and her past behind forever…

 

Here are two excerpts from the novella for you to enjoy:

“I tell ya, Ellen, I’m just not having it!”

Ellen stared into the hard, dark eyes of Al Swearengen. Her heart thundered and she trembled from head to toe. The familiar aroma of stale sweat and whisky that permeated the bar of the Gem suddenly made her feel queasy.

“It ain’t your choice to make, Al!” she snapped.

She would not give in to him on this. She had every right now to follow her own heart. Her life would finally be her own.

“But…what’ll I do without you?” Al wheedled. He held out his hands and tilted his head. “I need you here, Ellen. You’ve been with me since the outset. Besides…” He gestured around the saloon. “The girls need ya. How’ll they manage? Most of ’em will end up pregnant after a flop or two then try to get rid of it themselves and wind up dyin’ of a fever.”

Ellen ground her teeth together and pressed her fists into her thighs. She tried not to look around at the faces of the whores but the urge was overwhelming. They gazed at her from all corners of the Gem, their painted faces haggard and drawn, their eyes sad and pleading.

What Al said was true. They did need her.

Her resolve started to drift away like gun smoke on the breeze.

“Don’t you let him change yer mind!” Kacey appeared at her side. “You’re doin’ the right thing, honey! It’s time for you to get outta this hell hole!”

“If you’re gonna listen to that dried-up old dove then you’re a bigger fool than I had ya pegged for!” Al shrugged then moved behind the bar and poured himself a slug of whisky.

Ellen turned to Kacey. “I know that it’s time for me to go.” She straightened her corset and repositioned her breasts. “It’s just…I feel so responsible for all of you.”

“I know, Ellen. You’ve been like a mother hen to us but you’ve a right to try out a different kinda life. Hell, we all envy ya! But not many whores have the determination to save a dime, let alone enough to set off into the world.”

“The world?” Ellen grinned.

“Well…Custer City at least,” Kacey shrugged.

“Hell, it’s gotta be better than this place.” Ellen slapped her thigh. “An’ if it ain’t then I’ll just keep on goin’.” She hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt.

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ll help ya pack.” Kacey strolled through the bar then up the three-tiered wooden staircase.

Ellen followed, casting an apologetic glance at the girls as she passed them. Surely the time had come for her to cut the apron strings? It wasn’t easy for any of them. She knew that. She’d been where they were now. These poor daughters of Deadwood had little to make their lives bearable but Ellen had done her best for them. She’d protected them from Al’s fiercest rages, rescued them from violent customers and helped them to get rid of the babies they could never manage to care for. She had tried to ease the tragedy that surrounded them daily in the only way she could – by being there for them.

But now it was her time. Time to leave and live a little while she still had the chance.

She just wished that it wasn’t so difficult leaving them all behind.

 

****

Ellen leant forwards and took hold of Clayton’s face. She rubbed her fingers over the shadow of his beard and smiled.

“I could use a shave.”

She nodded. “But not right now.”

He shook his head. “Not right now.”

When he pressed his lips against hers, she gasped. His mouth was soft and warm, his breath sweet and hot. He kissed her with experience and tenderness and she melted into his embrace. As if making her decisions for her, her legs parted and he slipped between them. Only the material of their clothing kept them divided.

Her heartbeat quickened. Desire pulsed through her, awakening her senses like the rains returning life to a sun scorched creek bed.

As Clayton’s kisses became more insistent, Ellen’s need grew. It had been a lifetime since she’d really wanted a man. Even with Mr Hawkins, her feelings had been but a shadow of the lust that now burned from her very core.

Maybe it was due to her heightened emotions following Stella’s labour, or maybe it was due to the fact that she knew that this was for her. Not for money. Not for Al. Not for anyone else’s benefit. Just for her.

She sighed as Clayton lifted her skirts, pushing them over her knees. He took hold of her garters and removed them before sliding down her stockings. When he ran his hands up and down her legs, from knee to ankle, Ellen bit her lip. The anticipation was too much. She felt sure that she would explode.

She pulled him towards her and wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection bulged at the front of his pants and she ground her pussy against it, overwhelmed by the need to feel him inside her.

Clayton kissed her then fingered the neckline of her gown.

“Can I…” His eyes were dark with desire.

Ellen nodded and helped him to unbutton the front of her dress. She shrugged out of the bodice before standing and sliding it down to her feet.

“There!” She grinned.

Clayton stared at her as if he’d never seen a half-naked woman before. Ellen wanted to sing with joy. He looked at her with hunger and need but not the regular detached lust she was accustomed to seeing. Clayton didn’t want just any old pussy. He wanted her. Her pussy.

He ran his hands up her legs and over her hips. She held them there for a moment then pushed her bloomers down. When she unlaced her corset, her hands shook and Clayton had to help her to pull the laces from the holes.

Then she stood before him. Clad in just her flimsy chemise.

Every breath she took made her bosoms tremble.

She knew that Clayton saw this.

She was hot and wet between her legs.

She knew that Clayton was aware of this.

She wanted him.

And she knew that he wanted her too.

She lifted the hem of her chemise then lifted it over her head, pulling off the scarf that held back her hair in the process.

Clayton gasped.

She was about to kneel but he stopped her moving with his strong hands.

She frowned.

Did he not want her now that he had seen her? Her heart sank.

But when he buried his face in the ebony curls covering her sex, she understood. He intended on pleasuring her first. She shuddered as primitive need coursed through her and he took control of her body.

 

BUY LINKS:

  1. COM

AMAZON UK

All Romance Ebooks

 

Molly’s Links:

Blog: http://misswishlade.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MissWishlade

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mollyann.wishlade

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/19556829-molly-wishlade

Total-E-Bound Blogspot on 12th of every month: http://totalebound.blogspot.co.uk/

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/misswishlade/

 

Bound – The Wild, Wild West #1 – by Molly Ann Wishlade

Bound will be released by Carina UK on 28th July

Genre: Historical Western Romance

Series: The Wild Wild West Novella Series

 BOUND COVER

BLURB:

Runaway mail-order bride Layla Powell is terrified when she is captured by two powerful cowboys purporting to work for her fiancé – the mysterious Mr Jackman. At first Layla fights tooth and nail for her freedom, but Charlie and his lover Etu have their own erotic methods to subdue their feisty captive…

In fact Charlie is really Layla’s fiancé, she was supposed to be his wife in name only, but he and Etu like what they see. They are sure that just one night of being pleasured by them both will be exciting enough to convince Layla to abandon her plans to run and keep her in their bed forever!

 

Here are two excerpts from the novella for you to enjoy:

“Don’t you move a muscle!”

Layla stiffened as a hand covered her mouth. She blinked hard and tried to peer through the gloom.

Panic seized her. Where was she? What was happening?

Her arms were pinned to her sides. There was a weight crushing her chest, restricting her movement and her breathing. She wriggled instinctively, her mind still foggy with sleep.

She was trapped!

“Now listen up, missy,” the deep voice continued. “Stop your struggling! I’m gonna remove your Stetson but you better keep still, ya hear?”

That was why she couldn’t see! She had pulled her father’s old hat over her eyes so that she could get some sleep. The afternoon sun had been hot, even through the trees. But now…someone had discovered her.

Would he hurt her?

She squinted as the cover was removed from her face. It didn’t make much difference. It was pitch black. She must have slept through the whole of the afternoon. Darn it! She’d only intended on taking a quick nap. She tried to focus on slowing her breathing but she was only able to catch little breaths.

The man straddling her chest pushed Layla’s hair back from her face with a callused hand and she frowned. As her eyes adjusted, she could just make out the outline of his head, a dark silhouette against the stars above. He moved and the hand covering her lips exerted more pressure. Her teeth dug painfully into her lips. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she felt sure that he must be able to feel it hammering beneath his muscular thigh. Fear surged through her and a red haze flooded her brain.

She had to get away. She had to escape.

She forced her mouth open then bit down on the flesh of his palm. It was instinctive, a physical reaction to a physical situation. She was consumed by terror. If he was going to hurt her then she’d inflict pain upon him first. However she could.

He growled and whipped his hand away but his weight remained in place. Crushing. Constricting. Impossible to displace.

“Now then, missy.” He pressed his mouth against her ear. She winced, expecting to smell unwashed man and to feel his stubble graze her cheek but instead she smelt potash soap on clean-shaven skin. Even with her sleep-addled brain, the scent reassured her as it brought with it images of civilisation and safety. Of a long-ago childhood. So he wasn’t a bandit. He hadn’t been out here for days or weeks. Perhaps he was even respectable. But that was probably too much to hope for. And as she knew all too well, even a man who appeared to be respectable could be hiding a darkness. A hidden side that would lead to pain, degradation and heartbreak for a woman who fell for his charms.

“I’m gonna remove my hand from over yer mouth. But you gotta promise not to scream.” He laughed. “Not that it would do you much good out here…but, well, to be honest with you…I can’t abide a woman screaming. You understand?” His voice reverberated through her chest, tickling beneath her armpits like a feather and making her nipples turn confusingly into hard little peaks. She had hoped to disguise herself as a young man by binding her ample bosoms tightly and donning trousers but it seemed she’d fooled no one.

Layla nodded. She was stuck in a bad box, no doubt about it. She realised now that screaming would get her nowhere. Might even conjure up a few other wastrels who’d be intent on having their way with a woman fool enough to wander out into the Black Hills alone.

What had she been thinking? But she’d been lost, alone, without a choice. She had acted upon the instinct to flee, too afraid to stay and meet her fate. The fate that she’d played a part in arranging.

The man removed his hand and she moistened her lips with her tongue. She could taste wood-smoke and soap. This man kept himself clean. He’d also recently made a fire. Her belly growled and she silently cursed her human frailty.

“You hungry, eh missy? We’ll have to see about getting you some victuals in a while then. But you gotta promise to behave.”

“Who…” Layla tried to take a deep breath but the man’s knees crushed her sides.

“Who am I?” He finished her question. “Well that’s for me to know…and for you to find out.”

Layla gasped. “I…I can’t…bre…”

“Oh!” He jumped to his feet. “Sorry…Didn’t realise I was squashing ya.”

He grabbed her hands and pulled her upright.

“Now remember what I said…” He kept hold of her wrists.

“I remember,” Layla nodded. Black spots swam before her eyes and she staggered. The stranger caught her beneath her armpits with his large hands then scooped her up. She leant her head against his chest, momentarily too weak and dizzy to protest.

“Now I’m gonna take you back to where I’ve set up camp then we’re gonna have us a little chat. Understand?”

“Yes,” Layla whimpered. She cleared her throat. Better not to sound afraid. “I mean…yes, I understand.”

What on earth did he want? What if there were more men there and he intended on sharing her with them? She glanced around but the trees were thick and the moon was a sliver in the sky. She’d likely break her neck if she tried to run off and she felt too weak to even attempt it. Better to wait and see what he wanted to talk about and maybe get something to eat. Build her strength a little so she could think. Clear her head. Then plan.

 

****

Charlie had to stop himself from taking a few steps forward and grabbing hold of Layla. The sheer beauty of her naked form was playing havoc with his body and mind. Sure, he’d seen a woman’s body before, seen a few in fact, but none of them had been this perfect, this beautiful, this desirable.

He dragged his eyes away from her creamy flesh.

“Etu?” He nudged his lover’s shoulder but Etu didn’t move. He stood in front of Layla like a statue, his eyes glued to her body. He watched as Etu hovered his hands over her form, tracing her curves without actually making contact. Etu had fallen hard.

Charlie knew that he would have to take charge.

He grabbed the rope that Layla had escaped from and ran it through his hands. If he wasn’t so confused by the feelings running through him, he’d have found the situation funny. Here they were, the three of them, in the woods at night, naked. Charlie, his lover and their mail-order bride.

Who’d have thought that an advert in a paper would come to this?

He had to tie Layla up. He just had to. He couldn’t risk her escaping again. Especially now that she’d seen him with Etu.

“Put your hands behind your back, Layla.” He used the voice he reserved for calming a startled horse. Low, deep, commanding.

Layla opened her eyes and stared at him. She cleared her throat as if to speak. Her bottom lip quivered. He felt his gaze drawn to her breasts again then lower. Lower. To the auburn curls at the apex of her thighs. He knew that if he parted her legs he would see the shiny pink folds of her sex. Glistening. Inviting. Encouraging him to penetrate her feminine flesh.

Dammit! He had to stay strong here.

Etu turned to him. “Charlie…is this really necessary? She won’t try to run off now. Look at her.” Etu gestured at Layla and Charlie swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop looking at her. It was driving him crazy the way that her beautiful auburn hair fell over her shoulders and her green eyes shone. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought that she even looked aroused.

But that would be ridiculous, right?

He moved towards her and she stiffened. He pulled her hands behind her and looped the rope around them. This close, he could smell her sweet musky scent. It made him want to pull her against his chest. His whole body was responding to her proximity, her femininity. It was so different from Etu’s. It made him want to run his tongue over every inch of her flesh in order to taste her sweetness.

His erection brushed the backs of her thighs as he tightened the rope. She gasped. He bit hard on his lip and breathed deeply. He had to regain his control. But it would be so easy to press his cock between the soft flesh of her buttocks until he found a way inside.

“Now kneel.” His voice was husky. He ached with the strain of denying his desires.

He helped her to lower to the ground. Etu knelt also. Watching. Hardly blinking.

Charlie knew that Etu was overwhelmed too. It was as if something had sparked between the three of them and it wouldn’t take much to set the three of them on fire. But the ensuing blaze could make charcoal of them all.

He put his hands on Layla’s shoulders and pushed gently, to make her lie on her side. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath his fingers. It reminded him of velvet. He began to wind the ropes around her, tying her like a hog, all the while repeating to himself that she was a swindler. She was not the sweet, innocent young woman that her letters had suggested. She did not need his protection and a place in his life. She would not be good for him and Etu. It would not be wise to open her rounded thighs and to nuzzle her wet pink flesh, to suckle her bud until she shattered against his tongue. Time after time until his mouth filled with her heady juices and he found the ultimate fulfilment that he could now admit that he craved.

But as he moved his hands deftly around her flesh, accidentally grazing her as he did so, he realised that he was not fully convinced.

The softness of her skin. The fullness of her breasts. The soft auburn curls that covered her mound. Her sweet vulnerability that seemed to reach out to his protective instinct. Her scent, such a contrast to Etu’s yet just as good. Just as intoxicating.

All these things about Layla invited him to believe that she was who she had said she was. What he wanted her to be. All these things made him want to believe that she could be the woman to complete what he had with Etu. And all these things aroused him in a way he had never expected to be aroused around a woman.

There was something special about Layla Powell. No doubt about it. 

 

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Harlot at the Homestead by Molly Ann Wishlade

Title: Harlot at the Homestead

Genre: Historical Western 

Series: The Duggans of Montana, Book #1 

Publisher: Totally Bound

Word Count: Short Novel – 33,707 words

 Release date: 4th April 2014

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Series Blurb:

The Duggans of Montana work hard and play harder.

Kenan Duggan looks out for his twin sister Rosie, and Matthew and Emmett, their two younger brothers. The Wild West is a tough place to live and each one strives to carve out their life on the land whilst battling the prejudices, contradictions and restrictions of an ever changing society.

They say that blood is thicker than water…but can these siblings find love and still hold on to family ties?

Harlot at the Homestead Blurb:

Sometimes retribution finds its own way but sometimes it needs a helping hand.

When Catherine Montgomery shows up at Kenan Duggan’s homestead, she expects him to be surprised. She’s been gone two years and she’s devastated to hear that her former fiancé was forced to give her up for dead.

Catherine never stopped thinking about Kenan and hoped that they’d be reunited one day. She has suffered at the hands of another but nothing tortured her as much as being apart from the man she loves. She doubts, however, that Kenan will be able to forgive her when she reveals her secrets.

As Kenan battles his desire for revenge, their mutual desire reawakens like a creek bed in the rain, and soon they are swept up in rediscovering their all-consuming passion.

Retribution often finds its own way in the Wild West and the men to blame for Catherine’s disappearance may well find themselves paying for their crimes in unexpected ways.

That’s if Kenan doesn’t get to them first!

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Excerpt:

Kenan stopped at a point where the bank grew flatter and the grass gave way to silt and sand. The water was shallow and crystal clear over the stones and Catherine suddenly realised how hot and uncomfortable she felt. High summer in Montana was usually hot and uncomfortable but this year it seemed hotter than hell. Beads of perspiration trickled down between her bosoms and the backs of her knees were clammy beneath her stockings.

“Let’s go in. It looks wonderful!”

Kenan smiled at her. “You always loved to swim, Catherine.”

They removed their shoes and outer garments then stood awkwardly.

“What now?” he asked.

“Just like always!” She chuckled.

His fingers trembled as he unhooked the front of her corset. He let it drop to the ground on top of her dress, then moved closer to her and encircled her wrist with his hands. Her stomach flipped at the passion she saw in his gaze. He wanted her and loved her still but she had not yet revealed all to him. When she did, she feared that he would cast her aside like a broken saddle or a worn out boot.

“Hey!” He tipped up her chin with a fingertip. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just memories.”

“Good ones I hope.” He sighed as he bent his head to kiss her.

At first the kiss was soft and she relaxed into the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath. But as he pushed his hot tongue between her lips, she moaned and slid her hands through his hair. She filled her palms and her fingers with it then pulled his head towards her.

As they kissed, he loosened the waistband of her bloomers and she felt them slide down to the floor. The warm afternoon air caressed the naked skin of her legs and fluttered the edge of her chemise. Kenan held her body against the length of his and she felt his erection rock hard against her belly.

She giggled.

“What is it?” he asked breathlessly.

“Perhaps we’d better cool off?”

He looked down at the large bulge at his groin. “Maybe.”

He shrugged out of his union suit sleeves then slid it down over his legs. Catherine swallowed hard as she stared at his body. The hard cock stood to attention, pointing outwards from the dark curls of his pubic hair and pulling her eyes towards the balls beneath. He was a perfect male and she yearned to become one with him, to take him deep inside her and ride him until they both reached the point of no return.

“Now you!” His voice was husky but his tone was firm.

She undid the button at the front of her chemise then lifted it over her head. It was sheer as gossamer and featherlight. When she met his eyes again, the intensity of his gaze startled her. He looked so fierce, like he was about to explode with need and desire. He took her hand and led her towards the water’s edge. The cool river lapped at her toes and her nipples hardened, making her full breasts tingle.

“It’s freezing!”

“You’ll get used to it!” He eyed her naked form. He waded into the water until it reached his thighs then turned to face her. Catherine watched as goosebumps rose on his arms and the neat sack of skin that held the essence of his masculinity pulled itself up towards his body. But his erection still stood firm and ready, the tip shimmering with a diamond like bead of moisture.

In a flurry of excitement, she pulled the pins from her hair and let its vermillion waves cascade down her back. The breeze lifted it and swirled it around her face, teasing her by limiting her view of Kenan. She flicked her head to push it aside and fixed her eyes upon the man she loved. Unable to resist any longer, she ran to him, splashing the icy water over them both as she did so. The river’s chilly grip travelled quickly up her legs and the tiny hairs on her neck and her arms stood on end.

Kenan grabbed her and pulled her with him into the flow and Catherine gasped as the cold water enveloped her, touching her inside and out. The sensation of the chilly water delving between the hot sensitive folds of her most private place was delicious and it heightened her desire to feel her lover’s cock there too.

“It’s freezing, Kenan!” She giggled.

He laughed then flicked water into her face. She shook her head, her thick hair heavy with the river. He reached out and tenderly spread her hair out so that it floated around her like a gathering of eels come to inspect her nudity.

“Come here!” Kenan embraced her.

Their cold, wet skin and his solid length prodding into her stomach fired her yearning to have him. She wanted to possess this man once more, before he knew the full truth. The fear that he might abandon her when she confessed all darkened her mind for an instant, like a cloud passing over the sun. But she shrugged it away, refusing to allow it to spoil this precious moment. Kenan pushed her towards the bank where he laid her on her back in the shallows. He eyed every inch of her body. The stones and sand were hard and cold beneath her skin but the fire in his gaze warmed her like the hot summer sun.

He stroked his hands over her stomach, across the curves of her hips then back towards the apex of her thighs. She moaned as he parted her legs and ran the fingers of his right hand between her swollen lips then over her aching bud. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger with a touch so experienced and knowledgeable that Catherine felt all sense and reason slipping away. Lost in passion, she lifted her hips towards him, eager for him to fill her up as she knew only he could.

Whilst he massaged her, he used his free hand to drip chilly droplets of water over her burning cunny. She flung out her arms and grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails wantonly into his flesh and pulling him down onto her, unable to wait another second. His body moulded to hers as if it were the other half of her and she flung her head back as he drove his erection into her soft flesh.

As excitement consumed him, he rocked into her, harder and faster and she spread her legs farther to take him deeper. The water splashed around them as they moved in perfect union and the current flowed over them, caressing their skin and creeping into forbidden places as if to join in their lovemaking. Catherine bit into Kenan’s shoulder when the tensing and twitching of her pussy signalled the onset of her climax and her sensitive bud throbbed then burst into countless little explosions like lightning bolts piercing the night sky.

The aftershocks flooded throughout her entire body and her hot juices flowed from her loins. Her excitement spurred Kenan on and he thrust harder and faster before freezing as he reached his own shuddering release.

He rested his weight on his elbows and looked into her eyes. “You are amazing,” he whispered as he gently pushed the wet hair from her forehead. “No one should ever hurt you. Ever.”

 

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