Friday, June 25, 2010

Tempestuous by Nicole Austin

Ellora's Cave

Once a woman’s deepest, darkest desires have been exposed—whetting her appetite for taboo pleasures of the flesh—her unquenchable hungers will not be denied.

Floggers and whips
Chains and leather restraints
Erotic rewards and punishments…oh my!

Seduced by erotic stories and the forbidden lure of Dominance and submission, Evie Sloan longs to explore the scintillating delights firsthand. While some fantasies are better left to the imagination, for the chance to visit a real BDSM club, she’s willing to take a risk.

Been there, done that, seen it all—or so jaded Dominant Niko Kovalenko thought. Evie’s arrival on the scene reawakens long dormant passions and ramps them up to a whole new level. She’s an exciting challenge—a dangerous temptation—igniting the compulsion to posses. To collar.

Evie is no man’s submissive pet. Niko stripped her bare, shed light on all her secret desires and weaknesses, but it’s still not enough for him. To win her man she’ll have to confront her fears and find a way to bridge the distance between them.


Evie Sloan pondered the hotel’s breakfast buffet and found the same boring fare she’d been eating all week. She’d kill for a big bowl of Frosted Flakes swimming in ice cold milk. Not thin, tasteless skim milk either. Give her the fully loaded whole milk. Oh yeah!

Loud chatter filled the cavernous room and assaulted her aching head. If one more person hit her with a sunshiny greeting before she got her morning dose of caffeine the phony smile pasted on her lips would darken into a permanent scowl. She’d been anticipating the erotica conference thinking it would be a blast but long days of endless networking had drained her energy and bottomed out her enthusiasm. She needed to refuel.

Leaning forward, she grabbed the silver tongs for the bacon and prayed it wasn’t something disgusting like turkey bacon. Evie shuddered.

Smile, she reminded herself for the gazillionth time. This is supposed to be fun.

Yeah, well the elusive good times would have to happen without her until she had breakfast. She had priorities, after all. Food and coffee were at the top of her list.

A solid wall of male flesh blanketed her from behind. Shivers raced down her spine and goose bumps erupted on her arms. Warm breath caressed her neck, bringing every nerve ending to tingling awareness.

“We have an open spot tonight. You want in?” The odd yet seductive words were whispered in Cain Thorne’s authoritative, deep voice.

Sir Cain at Rendezvous, a BDSM club in Tampa.

We have an open spot tonight.” What exactly did that mean? Cain wanted to play with her? He had a piece of equipment he wanted to tie her up to? At the BDSM club?

Oh holy crap!

His large hand squeezed her shoulder, the casual gesture stealing the breath from her lungs. Everything fled Evie’s mind other than the man, his intriguing invitation and potent touch.

Damn, did that feel good! But still, what was he offering?

Hard core bondage images flashed through her mind. A nude body strapped to a St. Andrews Cross, pale skin bearing an intricate web of angry red marks from a recent flogging.

Her body.

And towering over her, a gorgeous Dom.

Dormant lusts crackled with sizzling new energy and stirred her senses. The sinful imaginings should not be turning her on. But they were. Big time.

“What about it, Evie? Wanna come?”

Hell yeah!

What red-blooded woman with a pulse would say no to the handsome man and his provocative offer? But she couldn’t get the words passed the huge lump in her throat.

Her swollen breasts rose and fell in sync with the rapid beat of her heart. The erotic thrill and possibilities threaded within Cain’s words moved Evie beyond reason and straight into pure sensual excess. With her pulse pounding in her ears, she blinked several times as she struggled for composure. The whispered enticement had frozen her to the spot while the morning rush went on around them as if nothing of significance had happened.

She swallowed hard as he moved away. Evie enjoyed watching the flex and play of powerful muscle beneath his white T-shirt as he continued to peruse the breakfast offerings, filling his plate calm as could be, while she struggled just to make her lungs work. She may be breathing fast but the oxygen wasn’t reaching her sluggish brain. Zapped of strength, her legs quivered like a couple of overcooked noodles.

The massive Dom had propositioned her…right there at the breakfast buffet. Before she’d even had her first sip of coffee.

With the length of the buffet tables between them, Cain winked at her. His intense brown eyes gleamed with awareness. Damn if that hot stare couldn’t melt an iceberg.

Jesus, this had to be a dream. She was sound asleep in her hotel room indulging in one heck of a wicked fantasy. Yes, that had to be it.

A pointy elbow slammed into her side and the tiny bit of air she’d managed to suck into burning lungs escaped on a mumbled curse.

Okay, not a dream.

“Wake up, Evie.” Michelle Thorne, Cain’s wife, business partner and sexual submissive, flashed a devious grin and batted long eyelashes. “And close your mouth, honey.”

Evie’s jaw snapped shut. She glanced at the tongs, her grip so tight her knuckles had turned white and her fingers had gone numb. Relaxing her hold, the bacon dangling from the end fell onto the white plate. The dish she no longer cared about clattered to the table as she quickly turned and latched onto the other woman’s arms. “Wh-what the fuck is he asking? What open spot? What does that mean?”

Michelle flicked golden blonde hair over a slender shoulder and laughed. “Oh, you are priceless, Evie. Absolutely priceless.”

Evie shook the woman, hard. “Tell me!”

“All right, already. Sheesh!”

Michelle took her sweet time, making a point of brushing imagined wrinkles from the sleeves of her blouse. “We’re going to club Rendezvous. The owner is letting us in an hour before it opens. Cain knows you’re interested and is asking if you want to tag along to check it out. It’s much safer with an experienced club member than going off on your own.”

Evie stumbled back a step, mixed emotions spinning in a wild frenzy. Her heart pounded out an erratic beat and fire raced through her veins as all her muscles tensed. Her mouth probably hung open again too.

That clinched it, Evie had to be dreaming. No way was she lucky enough for this to be real.

The erotic stories she read had ignited the spark. Her insatiable curiosity provided the kindling. The resultant blaze had grown into an out of control wildfire. Each new tale increased her need to witness the thrill of dominance and submission first-hand. But she was also afraid of the affect it may have.

Internal alarms shrieked, warning her to proceed with care.

She should be running the other way, shouldn’t she? Or maybe opening herself to the temptation would be good.

Would it be possible to get the full impact of the experience while being cautious?

She had so many unanswered questions about BDSM. Like other than being in control, what did the Dom get out of a scene? Would a spanking make her wet? Would a bit of pain make the sex better?

Damn, it was enough to make her go crazy. And Cain had just handed her a golden ticket to find out if reality would live up to her imaginings. She could go to the club, drink it all in without worry while under the guidance of the respected Dom.

A win-win situation and she had nothing to lose.

Michelle tugged her over to the side, out of the buffet line. “Breathe, Evie. In and out. Slow and easy. Jesus, honey, you’re shaking worse than a palm tree in gale force winds.”

“I can go to the club?” she squealed. Evie slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent further outbursts. When she spoke again she used a much quieter tone. “You and Cain are taking me to Rendezvous? Oh. My. God.”

A horrible idea struck her and Evie’s chest tightened as she searched the other woman’s expression. If Cain wanted to play with her would Michelle be jealous? Angry? The last thing she wanted was to hurt her new friend. “And you’re okay with this?”

Michelle laughed again. “Of course I am. Cain may demonstrate some of his toys, but there will be no sex or nudity. Well, not among us personally. I’ll be right by his side.” Her grin turned saucy. “And at the end of the night he’ll be going home with me.”

Evie threw caution to the wind and spoke before she had a chance to talk herself out of going. “Then count me in!”

Even if she had to sign away her first-born child, she would. No way could she turn down this chance.

The meal passed in a blur, no longer holding the importance it had earlier. She didn’t touch the food that she’d craved with such desperation. The conversations of several other vendors gathered around the table carried on without her. Even her coffee sat untouched and grew cold as her mind raced with thoughts of the night to come.

And her body…whoa. Her body hummed as if electrified by a high-voltage wire.

“Misty, I’m not going to make it to the concert tonight. Got a better offer. You want my ticket?” All conversation stopped and the others appeared dumbfounded.

“You’re kidding me? What the heck could be worth missing Sir Elton John?”

“Only one thing I can think of,” one of the women commented. Her suggestion didn’t need clarification. Her sinful grin made it clear she meant sex.

There was no masking her huge smile as Evie handed over her prized fourth-row ticket. Nothing measured up to exploring the scene at the invitation-only club with a respected Dom she trusted.

And she’d be going…tonight.

Evie bit her lip and took slow breaths as she struggled for composure. Doing a happy dance in the middle of the hotel restaurant would draw unwanted attention. She couldn’t even imagine coming up with an explanation to justify such crazed behavior. There would be no explaining Cain and Michelle to this vanilla group.

Chaotic thoughts drifted, taking her back a few days to when she’d met the couple while visiting their booth in the crowded conference hall. The memories were fresh and vivid in her mind. It had been the most notable experience of the week…

Leather cut through the air with a subtle whoosh. The contrasting loud crack as the tail of the whip connected with the wooden table millimeters from her hand resonated through her. She jerked back from the soft suede falls of the red flogger she’d dared reach out and touch and looked up, way up, a solid mountain of muscle to meet the dark-haired man’s expressionless face. He intimidated with more than his sheer size as his clear, emotionless gaze gave nothing away.

“Always ask permission before touching.”

Oookay, good to know.

Evie nodded, uncertain if it was better to respond or remain silent. She definitely didn’t want to provoke the huge man holding the whip.

“Cain!” A petite blonde move around the man, bumping him out of the way with her hip, not impressed in the least by his size. “Don’t go all Dom and scare off the customers…again.” She smacked his arm and released a long-suffering sigh.

With a friendly smile and open expression, the woman held out her hand. “Hi! I’m Michelle Thorne.” She glanced over her shoulder. “The big scary guy is my husband, Cain.”

The giant scowled and grumbled something under his breath as they all shook hands.

“Hi! Evie Sloan. I’m a bookseller.” She pointed over her shoulder. “My booth is a few aisles over.”

“Great. I’ve been meaning to check out some of the books. I’ll have to stop by when the slave driver lets me take a break.” Michelle’s green eyes sparkled with mirth as she picked up the red flogger and held it out. “Go ahead, it won’t bite.”

She leaned over the table a bit and whispered, “Neither will Cain.”

Evie didn’t resist the urge to stroke her fingers along the soft tresses, shuddering as she wondered how different they’d feel slapping against her bare bottom.

“Everything you see has been handcrafted by Cain. He prefers to work with each customer one on one and create custom pieces, but these rack items are all for sale. Were you looking for a particular type of flogger? Cain works with a variety of materials—suede, rabbit fur, deerskin. It all depends on the sensation you’re after—thuddy, stingy or perhaps something in between.”

“Oh…um, I was just looking.”

“Okay. Do you have any experience with leather toys? Have you ever been flogged, Evie?”

At the frank question she gasped and cast a surreptitious glance around those nearby. Had anyone heard?

She sighed with relief, even more glad when Cain lost interest, moving away to help another customer. Evie found that Michelle’s easygoing nature helped her relax and talk openly.

“I’ve never been flogged, never been to a club,” she shrugged. “Most of my time has been spent building my business. There hasn’t really been any room for play.” And didn’t that sound pathetic. Ugh!

Michelle shot her a knowing grin. “But you’re curious. I bet you’ve read some of the books you sell and wonder how much of it is true. The stories turn you on but you’re not sure if BDSM is right for you. Correct?”

“Am I that transparent?”

“Not really, it’s quite common. And I sense both your interest and hesitation.”

While Evie browsed the booth, she watched the couple work. She would never have pegged them as being in the lifestyle or their roles. Michelle seemed to be in charge and had her husband wrapped around her little finger. Their relationship captured Evie’s imagination and she couldn’t resist indulging her curiosity once Michelle was finished helping another customer.

“So how does it work? Are you and Cain…” What? How was she supposed to ask such personal information?

Michelle had no qualms about filling in the blanks. “Cain is a Dominant and I’m his submissive, as well as his wife. We don’t live the lifestyle 24/7. Far from it. As you’ve probably noticed, I take the lead most of the time when it comes to business. I’m much more approachable and better with people, some of whom take one look at Cain and clam up. He’s better with his hands.” Her satisfied grin left no question how she felt about Cain’s skilled hands.

Evie figured a lot of people would be timid around the large man. Being near him you couldn’t help sensing his power and noticing his authoritative nature. But watching the couple interact made it clear Cain would move heaven and earth for Michelle. He may be big as a bear and growl a lot but he was warm and cuddly with his wife.

She liked them both and wanted to get to know them better. Might help her learn a few things about herself too.


“Don’t you think so?”

Misty squeezed her hand, bringing Evie back to the crowded hotel restaurant. “Evie?”

“Huh? Oh…sure.”

She nodded when appropriate but didn’t pay attention to the conversation. Not because it wasn’t interesting. Her thoughts remained on the upcoming evening. She would get to see the Thornes in a whole new light. With Michelle there, she hoped to be able to relax and enjoy. The very idea of observing Cain in action at a real BDSM club had her squirming around on her chair.

All her fantasies of visiting a club, maybe playing a little, were about to come true.

Floggers and whips.

Chains and leather restraints.

Erotic rewards and punishments.

Dominance and submission…oh my.

It was bound to be one of the most enlightening nights of her life.


Monday, June 21, 2010

Wild Texas Wind by Nicole McCaffrey - Win a Copy!!!

Wild Texas Wind
by Nicole McCaffrey

I've always been a sucker for a historical, and this one definitely sucked me in. Raz Colt is as Alpha as they come and doesn't always use a gentle hand, but he's just what spoiled, wildcat Arden O'Hara needs. The sexual tension between these two is as hot as a summer day in Texas.

Nicole is giving away a FREE COPY of Wild Texas Wind so post a comment for a chance to win!

All Raz Colt wants is land, a quiet peaceable existence and to put his life as a hired gun in the past. When the chance to earn a sizable fortune by rescuing a kidnapped heiress comes his way, he seizes the opportunity. Trouble is, the heiress doesn’t want to be rescued. Offsetting Arden O’Hara’s beauty is a rattlesnake personality and shrewish temper. Despite her claim that she faked the kidnapping so her fiancé would ride to her rescue, Raz knows someone is out to kill her. And if anyone gets the pleasure of wringing her lovely neck, it’s going to be him.

Arden O’Hara is desperate to go home. Her fiancé was supposed to ride to her rescue, proving it’s her–and not her father’s money– he loves. Instead an arrogant stranger, with weapons strapped gun-fighter low and a decided lack of sympathy for her situation, shows up spouting a ridiculous tale about someone trying to kill her. It’s infuriating when Raz Colt’s claims prove true after not one but several attempts are made on her life. She has no idea who this fast gun with the deadly aim is, or why he makes her feel as wild and untamed as the Texas wind. But like it or not, if anyone is capable of getting her home alive, it’s Raz Colt.


After spending the afternoon in the company of the Snows, Raz decided to do a little work to earn his keep. It was the first time he’d left Arden alone since finding her, but with Mrs. Snow clucking about like a mother hen, and the nasty weather, he supposed there was little to worry about.

He’d just begun to clean out a stall for his horse in the barn when a gust of warm, wet air blew in before the door closed with a bang. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was, or the mood she was in. It entered with her as surely as the angry weather.

“You son of a bitch.”

“I’m glad you’re so happy to see me.”

The same instincts that had kept him alive thus far warned him to keep her in view. Her green eyes blazed, fists balled at her sides. “You low down, double-crossing, sneaky, good-for-nothing bastard.”

“Now that you’ve listed my finer qualities—” he ducked, narrowly avoiding a milking stool that came flying at him.

“You tricked me.”

Hell no, he hadn’t. But he’d been so caught up in her lovely face, the way she’d said her full name with just the slightest hint of her father’s Irish lilt, the way she’d looked at him with those grass green eyes, he’d slipped and said his true name. Now for all intents and purposes, they were married. For real.

Two old horseshoes—complete with rusty nails—hurled past his head. He threw down the pitchfork and stalked toward her. Stubborn as she was, she didn’t even back up.

“I made a mistake.”

“The hell you did! You think you’ve found a way to get your hands on half my father’s fortune, don’t you?”

“Half your what?”

“You said it yourself; I don’t get my money until I’m married. And now I just happen to find myself married. To you!” With a shriek of fury, she lunged at him.

He side-stepped her, and she stumbled forward. When she righted herself, he grabbed her from behind, locking his arms about her mid section, pinning her flailing arms. She kicked and writhed, but he held tight.

“Hard as it is to imagine, Miss O’Hara—”

“Mrs. Calvera, thanks to you!”

“I never had a mind to marry you.” He grunted as she continued to fight him. “I told you—I made a mistake, and I’ll fix it.”

She stopped struggling for a moment. “How?”

“It’s not as if the marriage will ever be consummated. We’ll have it annulled when I get you home. Give whatever reasons you want, I won’t be around to contest.”

“My good name will still be ruined.”

“Why? We don’t have to tell anyone. Not even your father.”

“Geoffrey will never want me now.” She wrenched, trying to twist away from him.

He lifted her feet off the ground, ceasing most of her struggles. “Oh, he’ll still want you.”

“You really think so?”

“I’m sure he’ll still want to marry you.” He set her back on solid ground but didn’t release her. “I can think of about two million reasons why—and they’re right in your daddy’s bank account.”

“You son of a bitch.” She lurched, trying to free herself enough to hit him. He held tight

“That’s enough, Arden.” He purposely kept his tone low. “These good people have offered us a roof over our heads for the night; I won’t have you cursing like a dance hall girl for them to overhear.”

“Since when are you so goddamned noble?”

“I’m not, but I’d sure as hell rather sleep in a house tonight than out in the rain.” He kept his arms around her, squeezing for emphasis. “I’m not letting go until you calm down.”

Arden only wished she could relax, but with his arms around her, it was impossible. Her breath caught but not because he squeezed so tight. “You can let go now.”

“Not yet.” His voice tickled her ear, and a shiver of awareness moved through her.

Ignoring the pleasant sensation, she tried to pry his hands apart. “You do realize we’d have to be married for three months before I get my share of the Triple H, don’t you?”

“I told you I don’t want—wait a minute. Does Geoffrey know that?”

She let out a huff of frustration. “Dammit Colt, why does everything have to come back to Geoffrey?” He still didn’t release her, and for some reason she was starting to hope he wouldn’t. The warmth of his body began to relax her. “What do you have against him anyway?”

“You really want to know?” His breath brushed the back of her neck, and the arms locked around her felt less and less restricting and more soothing. Against her will she remembered how he’d held her after she’d shot that man, how his strength and familiarity had comforted her. “What the hell was he still doing in town when you’d been missing for three days? If you were my woman, I’d have been out there turning over every rock, every blade of grass until I found you.”

Like melted honey, a thick, languid heat curled through her. She leaned her head back to rest on his chest, and his arms unlocked from her waist. One of his hands slid to her hip, the other splayed over her stomach. “A real man wouldn’t let you out of bed long enough for anyone to take you away from him.”

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Author Spotlight Contest Winner!

Congratulations to

Cathy MacDonald

winner of my Joyfully Reviewed Author Spotlight Contest!
Cathy wins a digital copy of one of my books--her choice.

Thanks to everyone who played!

If you missed the interview and would like to check it out, click here.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Riding Double by Sayde Grace

If you're trying to keep cool this summer, Riding Double is not the book for you. Oh, mama, it's a hot one! Two cowboys want her--Bo with regrets from the past and Chet's living for the moment. But Billie is a woman with a broken heart, a stubborn streak a mile long, and a strong fear of the future.

Riding Double
by Sayde Grace


Stressed to the max by her rodeo production company, Billie turns to young bareback rider Chet Haskins for a night of fun. She expects to get her mind off her business and her bull rider ex-fiancé, Bo Bennett. What she gets is several nights of sinful pleasure with both Chet and Bo. Finding herself quite literally between two hot cowboys, will Billie decide to move forward with Chet or start over with Bo?


My heart raced as I realized Bo was here. Here, and very nearby, watching Chet and me. I looked to my left. Next to the bucking chutes, Bo stood staring at us. I inclined my head in a hello, and he sauntered over. He stopped in front of me and grabbed my hand, pulling me to his side.

“I’ve missed you more, no matter what kind of smooth talk this dipshit has told you.” He gave a dizzying smile, which I returned. “But this weekend we’ve got to get something straight. If we’re to be together,” he waved his hand back and forth between us, “then you need to understand I expect some control over this.”

My eyes almost bugged out of my head. He did not just say he needed control. I’d kill him. I opened my mouth to argue, but before I had a chance, his lips closed over mine. I had a moment to panic. Everyone who’d just seen me kiss Chet would know I was also involved with Bo. I jerked away, and he let me go.

Bo’s jaw firmed, and his eyes bored into mine. “Make no mistake about it. If I’m going to share you, you’re gonna let me keep some control. Otherwise, I don’t know if I can go on with this.”

For an instant I thought about telling him to fuck off, but I couldn’t. His kiss had demolished my emotional barriers. I wanted him. I needed him and couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Chet may have missed you some, but I’m the one who thought about you every day.” Bo’s voice turned low and deep, filled with desire. His eyes blazed with lust. “Remembered your touch, the feel of your skin sliding against mine, and how sweet you taste.”

Chet snorted. “He’s been talking nonstop about you for two weeks.” He laughed. “I told him there was no way in hell I was bowing out. The two of you would have too much fun without me.” He turned and ambled away.

Bo stood, looking at the ground. I gazed at him for a second to let the giddiness of knowing how much that kiss had affected him rush through me. I might regret it later, but this weekend I was determined to have a good time, and if that meant spending time with him, pretending things were like they had been, fine.

“I gotta get to that meeting.” I turned to go but stopped. With a glance over my shoulder, I melted a little. He was staring at my ass. “I wanna be with you tonight, but nothing has changed. When this weekend is over, things will go back to the way they were before.”

My heart sank, but he had to know. I still wasn’t ready to forgive and forget. Maybe I never would be.

He smiled and shook his head. “You’re wrong. After this weekend, things will never be the same.”

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

In the Author Spotlight at Joyfully Reviewed!

Woohoo! I'm in the Author Spotlight at Joyfully Reviewed!

Joyfully Reviewed

If you check it out, let me know what you think via email
and I'll enter you in a chance to win one of my books.

Shared by Lily Harlem

by Lily Harlem

Struggling artist Ariane Arlington flees the Welsh valleys after exposing her corrupt boss. But when the sun rises she finds herself jobless and homeless in Cardiff city with barely a penny to her name.

She responds to an advert in the local paper Room to let, wanted, girl to share. What she doesn’t realize is that the two insanely gorgeous guys who live in the penthouse apartment really do want a girl to share, in every sense of the word. Fortunately for Ariane, rent is the last thing on their minds.

She discovers the men are bound together by a turbulent past. Liam, a computer whiz, keeps a painful secret hidden beneath his buff exterior, whilst Quinn, a pioneering neurosurgeon, wonders if he’ll ever meet a woman who can live with his controlling ways. They admit the one thing missing from their lives is a woman just like Ariane, who can handle them both in and out of the bedroom and who, together, they can keep satisfied, loved and most of all, safe.


Suddenly I was there. I exploded and shouted out his name. My body jerked and my spine arched. Quinn wrapped his free hand around my shoulders, held me tight as he continued to drive into me, eking out every last tremor of my glorious release. I felt another surge of wetness as my internal muscles pumped around his wickedly expert hand, and then I was panting, desperate for air and looking up at his face silhouetted by the bright ceiling light.

He was staring at me, not smiling, just wide-eyed. “Stunning,” he said. “You’re so responsive, so delectably reactive I can hardly believe it.”

“It’s been quite a while,” I confessed, dragging in lungfuls of oxygen and becoming aware once more of my surroundings. The marble really was hard and very cold on my naked behind.

Suddenly another deep, male voice ricocheted around the kitchen and invaded our private moment. “Glad you two are getting on so well.”

I looked around Quinn’s shoulder at the kitchen doorway. Liam stood, arms folded, feet apart, as he surveyed us draped over the marble island he’d designed.

“Hey,” Quinn said, turning but making no move to take his fingers from inside me.

My heart leapt and I pushed frantically against him. Prickles of mortification swept through the very core of my being as I squirmed and finally rid myself of his invasion. I slid ungracefully from the island and tugged up my jeans. I heard a whimper of embarrassment escape my lips, squeezed shut my eyes and prepared to take flight.

“Hey,” Quinn said, reaching for me. “Ariane.”

“No.” I shrugged him off and sidestepped.

But it was no good. He was too strong and too quick. He scooped me against his chest and bent his head to my ear. “Ariane,” he said again, curling his arms around me in a vise-like grip. “It’s okay, really.”

“I have to go.” I twisted my neck away from where Liam stood. My heart was threatening to burst right out of my chest. He would think I was a tart, a whore, a slut. I’d been giving off serious signals of interest to him only hours ago and now he’d come out of his office to discover me sprawled wantonly over his breakfast counter being hand fucked by his flatmate. “I can’t stay, not now, please, let me go. I have to go.”

I pushed against Quinn with all my strength and shoved backward, but something caught me. Not something, someone. Liam. Suddenly I was trapped between two rock-hard chests and surrounded by four determined arms.

“Don’t go,” Liam said into my ear. “I’m not mad at you.” He spoke with such softness that instantly my eyes filled with emotion. “I want you to stay.”

“We want you to stay,” Quinn added.

I felt a drip of shame spill over my lower lid.

“Why are you sad?” Quinn asked, tipping my chin. “I thought I just made you fly.”

“You did, but…” I dropped my head into the palms of my hands. “But I’m so embarrassed, you’ve been so kind, so helpful and you don’t even know me, somewhere to stay, clothes, food.” A juddering sob broke free. “And I’ve repaid you by behaving like a whore.”

Liam sucked in a breath behind me. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself again, Ariane.” He spun me to face him instead of Quinn. “I won’t stand for it and neither will Quinn.”

“Absolutely not,” Quinn confirmed. “What you just did made us both very happy and we won’t have you corrupting it.”

My mind was reeling. What on earth were they on about? I had just made them ”both” very happy with my terrible display of sluttiness? “I behave like a loose-moraled tart and that makes you happy?” I asked, stunned, taking my hands from my shame-stained cheeks.

“If you say that again, or anything like that,” Quinn said in a decidedly dangerous growl by my ear, “I will put you over my knee and spank that sexy little ass of yours, Ariane.”

My mouth dropped open in shock as my body trembled at the kinky suggestion.

Liam took full advantage of my open mouth and suddenly he was kissing me, gently and slowly but with a harnessed passion that had me opening for more in spite of my confusing predicament. He cranked up the heat, our teeth touched briefly and then he delved his tongue into my mouth and began devouring me like a starving man. He tasted different to Quinn’s dark, chocolate heat. He was lighter, fresher, like he’d not long since brushed his teeth. But he was equally delicious, equally sexy, equally hot.

Quinn brushed my hair to one side and began to rain kisses onto the supersensitive part of my neck, just below my ear. I groaned in appreciation and curled my fingers into Liam’s t-shirt to hang on. Two pairs of hands began to roam my body, dipping into my waist, smoothing over my butt and thighs, reaching for my breasts.

Quinn’s erection prodded at the small of my back at the same time Liam’s hit my stomach.

I snapped my mouth away. What was I doing? What the hell was going on? My sudden movement caught them both off-guard and I was able to slip free.

“No,” I said, retreating at speed. “I don’t know what’s going on here but no…how can you both…?”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Liam said, taking a step toward me.

I backed away, throwing up my hands defensively. “No…” I said breathlessly. “I have to go.”

“But where?” Quinn said, shaking his head. “You can’t go back.”

“I don’t know,” I said, aware my voice sounded shaky.

A sudden manic beeping filled the kitchen. Loud and insistent it echoed like the shrill ring of a phone in an empty hall. “Shit,” Quinn muttered. “Worst timing ever.” He reached down to his pocket.

Liam raised his eyebrows at him. “Isn’t it always?”

“What, what’s that?” I asked as I pushed a damp strand of hair from my face.

“My pager,” Quinn said, narrowing his eyes at the small flashing screen. “I have to go.” He walked toward me. I backtracked and hit the kitchen wall. “Liam will deal with you,” he said through tight lips. “Anything he says goes for me too.” He looked across at Liam who’d folded his arms and tipped his head.

“I feel the same way he does,” Quinn said.


“Don’t stop this,” Quinn interrupted. “Don’t stop this before it’s even begun, Ariane, please… I beg you.”

And then he was gone. His expensive leather shoes tapped over the wooden floor of the living room and then the front door slammed with a thud.

I wrung my hands together and rested my back against the wall. What had just happened? I’d kissed Liam with the same enthusiasm I had Quinn only moments before. How could I have generated so much passion inside my soul for one man and within seconds convert it to another? I’d always been faithful, I’d never cheated on Geraint, never even been tempted. Yet here I was getting mashed between two very aroused men and, I had to admit, enjoying it immensely. Thank goodness I’d come to my senses and stopped before anything else had happened.

“Ariane,” Liam said quietly, “you’re thinking about this way too much.”

I touched my fingertips to my lips, still tingling from where he’d just kissed me into oblivion. “What do you mean ‘this’?” I managed.

“Us, me and Quinn.” He paused. “And you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand?” He stepped closer. “I like you, Quinn’s clearly into you, and from what I just saw and felt—you, Ariane, are into both of us.”

There, he’d said it, the disastrous truth. I was into both of them. How could I not be? Both were devastatingly gorgeous and both had an air of irresistible sex appeal. It was a different nature of sexiness—whilst Liam’s felt gentle, seductive, beautiful and to a certain extent nurturing, there was something about Quinn that felt fast and furious, perhaps even dangerous. There was an element of bad boy unpredictability about him. How could a girl choose?

There was only one option—I would have to leave and not have either of them.

“I have to go,” I said again. “Really, I’m sorry, I can’t stay.”

“No.” Liam frowned, creating a neat horizontal line between his brows. “Leave in the morning if you want, but not in the dark, and…” He had a distinctly sharper edge to his tone. “Leave because you don’t want us, not because you do.”

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Saddle Broke reviewed by Romance Studio!

4 Hearts for Saddle Broke!

Here's what Shannon at The Romance Studio had to say...

"Author Darah Lace draws her readers into the story seducing them with a relationship filled with a dark sensuality and sexual taboos, where bondage, voyeurism, rough sex and ménage a trios escapades jump off the pages with non-stop, titillating thrills. The degree of edginess, sexiness and out-and-out emotional pull will have the reader mesmerized. The fast paced action starts right away unfolding within in a matter of days and never seems to stop, in part because the characters are both strong and take charge of this fast pasted story right away."

To read more click here.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Triple Knot by Nikki Soarde

Ellora's Cave

Kat Mulligan, a tiny woman with a big personality and bigger heart, built a business and life for herself and her handicapped brother—alone. Her focus is on the positive—and the future. The past can stay buried.
Until her estranged father suddenly reappears. She tries ignoring him—and the pain he brings with him. However, she can’t ignore his proposition—head to the Australian wilderness in search of a treasure that could change her life.
Dane Calder, her handsome guide, is too irresistible for her own good. The two of them connect explosively while Dane explains their itinerary. Kat decides she’ll go, but to keep her focused on her goal and not on her rugged guide, she insists her best friend Chay accompany them. He’s gay and therefore the perfect chaperone. Or is he?
Dane’s desire for Kat is obvious, but his feelings for her athletic, boy-next-door friend come as a surprise—to all three. None of the adventurers are prepared for the secret loves and desires unleashed beneath the azure skies of the Kakadu.


Kat jolted awake, her entire body zinging with electricity. “What? Huh?”

“Hey, kitten. Sorry to wake you, but you need to come inside. There’s a storm a’comin’.”

She blinked, gazing up into the bluest eyes set in the most handsome, rugged face, she’d ever seen. Dane’s fingers were still on her cheek. It was that touch that had awakened her and sent a jolt of awareness through her. She blinked rapidly, dragging her gaze away from his face to look out the windshield at the front of the plane. A bank of threatening, gun-metal gray clouds loomed on the horizon, and the air hummed with electricity.

“We’re here?” she said groggily.

“Yup. Landed about fifteen minutes ago. I let you sleep as long as I could.”

She sat up, groaned as her back and legs protested being in one position for so long. “Where’s Chay?”

“Inside.” He grinned. “Choking down a cup of Laklak’s infamous cure all.”


“Friend of mine. The woman who owns this joint.” He retreated from the plane and held out a hand. “Come on. She’s anxious to meet you.”

Shaking out stiff muscles and sore joints, Kat struggled out of the plane and followed Dane down the dusty driveway that led to a small, wood-frame house on the edge of a bank of trees. It was worn and weathered. A few of the windows bore cracks and the roof was missing a few shingles, but the white wood siding and bright yellow shutters had obviously been painted recently.

She drew up short. “What the hell are those?”

Dane stopped, frowned, but then followed her gaze to the trees beyond the house that held her attention. “Oh. Those are Darwin woollybutts. They’re blooming now. Pretty, aren’t they?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Pretty didn’t begin to cover it. The tall, green-leafed trees covered in fuzzy orange flowers lived up to their descriptive name admirably. She had the odd sensation that her eyes were slightly out of focus.

“Come on.” Dane grabbed her hand and dragged her forward, just as a fat raindrop landed splat on her nose.

They made it in the door just as the skies opened. Rain pelted the ground and a crack of thunder boomed in the distance.

The aroma that greeted her upon stepping into the wide-open kitchen and living space made Kat’s stomach growl, begging to be fed after what had been a ten-hour fast.

Chay sat at the rough-hewn kitchen table, huddled over a steaming mug. He glanced at her and lifted a single finger in weak greeting. “She’s alive.” He turned back to his mug. “More than I can say for myself.”


But before she could get an answer to that vague query, she was swept up in a fierce bear hug. “Kat-kat!” squealed the woman whom Kat could only assume was Dane’s friend. Her chubby, mocha-colored arms held Kat so tight she had to struggle for breath.

 “Kat Mulligan, this is my dear friend Laklak.”

“Uh. Hello,” she choked out.

At last Laklak released her from the hug, but obviously had no intention of actually letting her go. She gripped Kat’s shoulders with thick, strong fingers as she regarded her guest at arm’s length. Her face was dark like chocolate, with the slightly flattened features common to the local aboriginals. Deep lines and wrinkles rimmed her eyes and mouth and creased her forehead, but her hair was as black as her eyes. Kat was hard-pressed to guess her age, but suspected she wouldn’t take kindly to being asked.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you then?” She looked at Dane. “Laklak approves.”

And then she grinned, revealing a smile peppered with holes.

“Exactly what do you approve of me for?” asked Kat, glancing from her to Dane.

“As a friend to my Dane, of course.” Laklak slapped her on the shoulder. “What else?” But then she winked and cackled as she waddled back toward the stove where something was bubbling.

Kat looked at Dane and arched an eyebrow, but he merely shrugged. With a roll of her eyes she crossed to where Chay sat and pulled out a chair to plunk down beside him. He looked at her and she grimaced. “You don’t look so good. What’s wrong?”

“Rough plane ride. And an even rougher landing.” He glanced at Dane. “You call that a landing strip?”

“Around here you make do.”

Chay heaved a heavy sigh before taking a sip from his steaming mug. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you noticed.”

“It was rough?” she said to Dane.

“Just a few dips and dives.” Dane had moved over to the stove and was dipping a spoon into the bubbling concoction. “Nothing a real man couldn’t handle.”

Chay sneered. “Oh, that’s nice. I’m insulted, even as I sit here drinking swill that passes for tea.”

“Laklak tea is best for belly,” chided their hostess. “Drink.”

With a sigh of resignation Chay obliged. “So, Kat’s more of a man than I am, is that it?”

Dane just shrugged as Laklak looked on with interest. To Chay Laklak said, “You likes the boys, yes?”

Very slowly Chay replied, “Yeah…I likes the boys.” Kat could tell he was bracing himself for a rebuff or perhaps a prayer for his soul. These were the kinds of reactions he typically got from Laklak’s generation—whatever that may be. “You got a problem with that?”

“Problem?” She seemed stunned. “Stupid question. I likes the boys too. Just checking to see what we got in common.” Another cackle that had Kat grinning. Then she nudged Dane in the ribs. “He’s cute, too, don’t you think?”

Dane’s gaze snapped up like he’d been stung. “Huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

This had Laklak laughing so hard she literally doubled over and held her stomach in glee. The other three looked on in complete bafflement as she continued chuckling at her own private joke.

When she finally got control of herself she ignored the question, instead turning her attention to the pot. “So, you hungry? We could eat in twenty minutes. I just have to cook up the rice.”

“Oh yes,” said Kat. “It smells wonderful. What is it?”

“Mud crab curry.” Dane sipped off his spoon and an expression of absolute rapture washed over his features. “It’ll put hair on the soles of your feet.” He glanced at Chay. “I don’t know if you can handle it.”

“Mud crabs? Curry? I can take anything you can dish out.” Chay narrowed his eyes. “Just hand me a fuckin’ spoon.”

A half hour later they were all seated around the table with full plates, bottles of beer, and a storm raging outside that Kat feared would rip off all the remaining shingles.

Chay’d had all of six bites and already sweat was pouring down his face, but Dane was no better off. Red-faced and sweating, however, both men continued shoveling food into their mouths.

“It’s delicious,” said Chay, taking a swig of beer. “But it could use some hot sauce.”

“Be careful or I’ll find some for you,” challenged Dane.

The two women’s eyes met and they both laughed. Kat took small bites, laced liberally with rice. She had a pretty tough stomach where spicy food was concerned, but she was adult enough to acknowledge that this stuff was out of her league.

“So, what’s the plan from here?” she asked, setting down her fork and giving her palate a break.

But instead of answering her, Dane turned to Laklak. “Did you get the permits?”

“Yeah. But I had to sell my body to get them.” An enthusiastic cackle punctuated the joke.

“Permits?” asked Kat.

Dane nodded. “Yeah. Most of Arnhem Land and the Kakadu Park is protected and off-limits to tourists. You can take guided tours and go camping in designated areas, but for anything beyond that you need a government permit. Even then, we’re going to be travelling well outside the permissible regions. But if we’re intercepted, I want to at least have permits on hand, so that we can plead getting lost, or not knowing the way home.”

“Why is it off-limits?”

“It’s aboriginal land and protected ancient habitats. They’re just trying to keep it isolated from western culture as long as possible.”

“And to keep the tourists from getting eaten,” added Laklak.

“You’re talking about the crocs.” Chay’s fork hovered in mid-air.

“Yes.” She nodded sagely. “The ginga will be hungry.”

Chay gulped.

“Oh, don’t listen to her,” chided Dane. “I know what I’m doing. She just likes scaring people.”

“Hmm.” Slowly Chay took another bite.

“We’re also picking up the canoe here and the last of our supplies. I didn’t want to have to buy that stuff in town, myself. It would raise suspicion.”

Kat took a swig of beer. “This is serious stuff. I don’t think I realized quite how serious.”

“There are hefty fines for what we’re doing, but rarely jail time. The most important thing is to get going without being intercepted. After that chances are poor that we’ll run into any rangers.”

Laklak slanted him a look. “Course not. Just angry Mungguy.”

“Angry? Why would the natives be angry?”

For the first time since she’d known him, Dane appeared uncomfortable. “Because we’ll be crossing sacred ground. I thought I told you that.”

“Uh. No. I don’t remember that part.”

“Well, if we want the Sapphira, that’s what we’ve gotta do. Cross sacred ground, and climb a sacred cliff.”

Kat and Chay went very still. “Sapphira?” This was the first time they’d ever heard either Dane or Malcolm refer to the mystery object as anything other than an “artifact.”

“Yes. It’s not a real sapphire. That’s just what the local tribe dubbed it. Or that’s the closest translation Malcolm and I could come up with.”

Kat dropped her spoon. “Hang on a second here. Are we stealing something from these people? Because I just won’t be a party to that.”

But Dane shook his head. “No. The Sapphira isn’t native to this region. Malcolm and I had it with us when we came through the last time, and the tribe we were staying with saw some spiritual significance in it. Actually to call them Mungguy is inaccurate. This is a small, isolated tribe that has a rather…eccentric leader. And he’s led them in some rather unorthodox traditions.” He shrugged. “Anyway, in effect their leader stole the Sapphira from us. They hid it, and we had only just found out which cave in the escarpment held it when we encountered some rather…irate rangers and were asked to leave. Immediately.”

“So where is it from originally?”

“It’s South American. An Aztec artifact that Malcolm came by honestly.”

“Really?” Kat allowed the skepticism to creep into her voice.

But Dane was adamant. “Yes. Really.”

Kat had no intention of letting him off that easily, but the boom of thunder that cracked over their heads made them all jump, even as they were plunged into blackness.

“Shit,” said Dane to Laklak. “You still got that generator?”

“I do. But settle down. It never lasts longer than a few minutes.” A flash of lightning lit up the room, quickly followed by another boom.

“I want to see,” said Kat, launching from her chair and heading for the door.

“Hey!” But Dane wasn’t quite fast enough to stop her.

She stepped out onto the porch, her face immediately stung by the fine spray of rain that managed to reach beyond the cover of the wide awning. It was a different world now. Dark and menacing, the wind howling like a banshee as it whipped the trees into a frenzy and sent bushes and tin cans tumbling wildly across the landscape. The lightning cracks were frequent and close, and the thunder deafening.

“I’ve never seen a storm like this,” she said when she felt Dane move in beside her.

“I’m not surprised, what with living in the city all your life.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“And dangerous. I’m hoping she blows herself out, and we don’t see another one like this while we’re out there.”

Somewhat unsettled, she gazed up at Dane. “But you could handle it, right?”

His smile was reassuring as he slipped an arm around her shoulder. “I can handle anything, kitten. Except maybe you.”

Her reprimand for his use of the pet name died on her tongue at that last comment. A man who acknowledged her strength of will and yet wasn’t threatened by it was rare. And she found it unbelievably alluring.

She allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of those muscles wrapped around her body, the sense of strength and control that he exuded. Kat had always looked after herself, but it was good to feel like maybe she could hand that job off to somebody. Even if it was only briefly.

“Most city girls would be cowering inside,” he observed, his grip on her shoulders never wavering.

“Well, I’m not most city girls.” She turned to face him. “Am I?”

He smiled. “I couldn’t believe you slept through that flight. Chay thinks you’re not human.”

“And what do you think?”

The storm raging around them paled in comparison to the storm that suddenly kicked to life in his eyes. “I think I’m going to kiss you.”

Although she knew she should stop him, she couldn’t bring herself to. And when his lips fused with hers, she felt it like a rumble of thunder in her tummy. His lips were so warm and sweet, his tongue gentle even as it took absolute control of hers. And his arms—oh god, his arms—the strength in them as they wrapped around her body and held her oh so tight.

She wrapped her arms around him, wanting more than she knew she could. She cursed herself for it, even as she nudged her hips against his and felt the deep growl of yearning in his chest.

She wanted him there and then. Right on the porch amidst the driving rain and rumbling thunder. She wanted nothing more than to be wet and naked with him, and completely at the mercy of the storm.

His hand crept down to grip her ass and pull her more firmly against his erection, and impossibly her desire grew. But just as the words “Take me” formed on her tongue, another set of words echoed in her ears.

“What the hell?”

They jumped apart just in time to hear Chay mumble, “Shit,” and bolt back inside, and for Kat to feel a wash of guilt that she neither wanted nor understood.

“Chay!” she cried, but Dane caught her arm as she headed for the door.

“This has nothing to do with him.”

She wanted to agree, but although she was hard-pressed to say why she just couldn’t. She just shook her head and ran after her friend into the darkened house.