Darah Lace - the seduction of Lace...

Phantom Touch by Cindy Jacks

2011-10-26T08:03:00.001-05:00

by Cindy Jacks

Erika leads a quiet life—at least in the real world. But her alter-ego, Little Lottie, is a singer at a local club and engages in a wild online romance. For months she’s been communicating with a mysterious man, known only to her as the Phantom.

Her lover contacts her via texts, emails and instant messages. When he offers to fulfill her desires in real life, she can’t refuse. The only condition to meeting for their sizzling assignations—he wears a mask to hide his true identity. Despite his reluctance to reveal himself to Erika, he tears down her inhibitions and unleashes her suppressed passions, taking possession of her body and soul.

Erika may have finally found the one man who can sate her every longing…if only he would show her the man behind the mask.

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9623-phantom-touch.aspx

Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Reviews: Game Night by Darah Lace

2011-06-04T12:42:00.000-05:00

4 Cherries for Game Night! Thanks Carnation!

Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Reviews: Game Night by Darah Lace: "Game Night by Darah Lace Publisher: The Wild Rose Press Genre: Contemporary Length: Short Story (39 pages) Other: M/F, mild bondage, ..."

Bachelor Auction is Unforgettable!

2011-05-22T09:03:00.001-05:00

Bachelor Auction

was honored as one of

The Best Stories of 2011

by Seriously Reviewed.

Thanks romancereader!

Game Night is Out!

2011-05-13T14:16:00.000-05:00

Game Night is out at The Wild Rose Press!

You don’t have to like the game to love the player...

Salena Martin isn’t into sports and she can’t tell one ball from another, but whatever the season, Friday nights mean gathering at her best friend’s to watch “the game.” Unfortunately, the players on the wide screen don't hold her attention like steamy fireman, Trevor Branson. If he’d only let her in the game, they’d both score.

http://thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=86&products_id=825

2011-04-27T06:00:00.004-05:00

Join me and other Wilder Roses authors as we celebrate the

5th anniversary of The Wild Rose Press

with naughtiness and prizes.

http://www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses

Desire Holt Celebrates 100 Books!

2011-04-26T06:00:00.061-05:00

This month Desiree Holt celebrates her 100th release with Downstroke from Ellora’s Cave. Downstroke is the story of lovers reunited after twenty years trying to bridge a gulf of bitterness while outwitting a killer.

It’s been twenty years since Charley Roper and Dallas Creed parted with great bitterness. In that time she’s made a career for herself with the FBI and private security and he’s been a country rock music icon…tumbled to the bottom and risen again. Now someone’s trying to kill him and Morgan Creed wants Charley to protect his brother and find out who’s after him. When they meet again after all this time it’s obvious the chemistry is still there, stronger than ever. They’re older but are they wiser? Caught up in the bitter wash of memories and the tension of a killer in stalking mode, Charley and Dallas begin a roller coaster ride that is emotional erotic and suspenseful. Is their love strong enough after twenty years to pull them back together?

As part of the celebration, Desiree is giving away a prize every day of the reader's choice from her backlist. Names will be drawn from those who post comments and a grand prize of a refurbished Netbook with digital DVD drive will be awarded to one lucky winner. After you (the reader) post here to win one of her books, go to Desiree's web site at www.desireeholt.com and enter to win the grand prize.

And to help her celebrate I’m giving you a taste of one of her other books.

Crack The Whip

Blurb: When rancher Reece Halliday met the new manager of his fetish club, Rawhide, he was shocked to see Katie Waren, the woman he'd loved and lost because of his sexual preferences. But a lot of time has passed and Katie has discovered the lure and satisfaction of BDSM—including the pleasurable sting of the single tail whip. Will Reece be able to lure her back into his arms—and bed—when he cracks the whip during their private sessions?

Excerpt: “So maybe if you tell me how it happened, I’ll answer your question about me.”

“Fair enough.” He set his cup back in the saucer. “Remember Chad Willoughby, my college roommate?”

Katie nodded.

“Chad’s brother was into the life big time. When Chad graduated from law school, he got Chad a guest pass at the private fetish club he belonged to and said he could bring a friend.” He looked down. “I’d…been to a club twice before when we were together. But never did any more than watch,” he added quickly. “That’s when I brought everything up to you. I was fascinated with the lifestyle and wanted us to try some of these things together.” His grin was rueful. “My idea didn’t work out so well, as I remember.”

“No. It didn’t.” If only she hadn’t reacted so badly. “So what happened at the club?

“It seemed I was finally going to experience the things I’d only fantasized about. Chad’s brother arranged for each of us to have a sub for the evening along with a trained instructor.” He paused to sip more coffee.

“And?” she prompted.

“To be blunt about it, I discovered a desire for it I didn’t even know I had. It was the most explosive night I’d ever had sexually. And that’s taking nothing away from what you and I had together.”

“But you wanted more.” Oh, she was sure of that. She felt a trap opening, yawning like a big hole before her. “On a regular basis.”

“I did. A lot more. And more often. I for sure couldn’t look for action anywhere around the Hill Country. You know how conservative the ranching community is. Not even my brothers know about my…preferences.”

Katie gave him a quizzical look. “So what did you do?”

“Joined the club in Tampa Chad’s brother took us to. They have an arrangement for guest privileges in other clubs around the country. I…took a lot of business trips.” He stopped to take another swallow of coffee.

“Your brothers didn’t ask questions?”

He shook his head. “I timed my trips to coincide with legitimate business. Conventions. Meetings. Whatever.” His eyes raked over her face possessively. “But here’s the plain truth. I really wanted you, Katie. I wanted it all. You and the life.”

“Which is what led to the scene in our hotel room.” When she so childishly ran away. It wasn’t just the things themselves he was proposing. It was the total implication, the fear that she could lose herself in him completely. A very dangerous edge.

He grinned. “Yeah. That was some scene. I still remember how you looked, spread out…”

“Stop.” She held up her hand. “That’s not what I meant. Can we stick to the conversation at hand?”

The look he gave her nearly incinerated her dress. “Afraid to talk about it, sugar?”

Buy Link for Crack The Whip: http://thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=182&products_id=822

Buy Link for Downstroke: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9087-downstroke.aspx

Don't forget to post here to win one of her books, and then go to Desiree's web site at www.desireeholt.com and enter to win the grand prize.

2011-04-18T11:40:00.000-05:00

My pal Rachel Firasek has a new book out and I have to say she has the most wicked imagination. Congratulations Rachel!

Passion of the Soul: Piper's Fury
by Rachel Firasek

It's an empath thing...

Using your "powers" to help the Dark Hills Police Department hunt down serial killers doesn't leave much time for dating. Not that Piper Anast is complaining. The last thing she needs is some guy brushing up against her and pumping his pornographic thoughts into her head.

When she meets Bennett Slade, a sexy, tormented vampire, Piper stumbles headlong into a telepathic connection with his missing daughter. She can't leave the kid to the evil surrounding her unwanted visions, nor can she resist her draw to Slade. He's the first guy she's been able to touch vision-free in, well, forever.

As she and Slade close in on the evil creature holding his daughter, Piper's powers morph into a deadly fury. To save Slade's daughter-and herself-Piper must face down demons she never knew she had and trust the one thing she keeps from everyone.

Excerpt:

"Trust me."

"Fine." I snapped my eyes closed and took a leap of faith by turning around. Several seconds passed before the rustling of fabric warned me Slade had removed his shirt. His voice rumbled close to my ear. "Raise your arms."

My arms went into the air as if his voice be-spelled them somehow. "Why?"

"Would you quit asking that?"

"No."

His soft chuckle made me grin. He tugged my t-shirt clear of my jeans and I spun around. "Whoa, what are you doing?"

"I want your skin against mine when I do this. It will be much better this way. I promise."

"Do I look stupid to you?"

"No. You look gorgeous. Now take off your shirt."

"Why?"

"You are most exasperating. You asked me to do this!"

"Why won't you tell me what you're going to do?"

He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Fine. I am removing your shirt because, if we get carried away, I do not want blood on your clothes."

"Blood? I didn't say you could feed."

"Piper, this will be good and when it is, you may ask me to bite you. I will not be able to deny you. If you want to stop, you had better do it now. I will not be able to later. Not with you."

"I don't want to stop—I just don't buy your reasoning."

"Humor me and turn back around. I am trying to be a gentleman." I gave him my back, feeling vulnerable and exposed as he drew my shirt over my head. The soft curls on his chest pressed against me. I leaned back and met the strong wall of steel.

He tensed and pulled my arms away from my body. "Who did this?"

I'd forgotten about the deep purple bruising on my upper arms. "Gage."

"Gage?" He blinked. "He should not have had the strength to do this on his own. What has that monster done to him?"

I shrugged and would have turned around if Slade's grip wasn't so tight. His thumbs softly stroked the bruising. "Does it hurt?"

"Nah. Can we get back to what we were doing? What happens next?"

He chuckled. "Listen. Listen to air. Listen until you hear nothing but the air around you."

What did he mean, listen to air? I stood still, listening to the soft sound of his breath teasing the top of my head. I was a good foot shorter than he was and felt miniscule against his mass.

After a few moments of relaxing and listening to nothing, a soft breeze floated along my skin. With it came the scent of vanilla. Warm. Inviting. I felt myself sway toward it. Slade's hard hands caught my upper arms and pulled me tighter to him.

"Listen," he whispered.

Then I heard it. A bell, soft chimes, ringing in my ear. "What is it?"

"That is the sound of the power. Now feel it." He placed his arms around me and engulfed me in his strong embrace. Heat rushed in, and at first, it was almost painful. Then came the liquid fire coursing through my veins. Following the fire, a lust so sinful all rationality fled. I wilted against him, wanting to feel more of the hardness pressed against my back.

His breathing shifted. Soft, warm pants tickled my neck. "Piper, turn around and look at me."

I did as he asked because there was nothing else I wanted to do. He was my everything at that moment.

"Your eyes..." He held my head tightly in his palms. "Piper, what are you?"

You can find Rachel at http://www.rachelfirasek.webs.com/

Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Pipers-Passion-novel-Soul1-ebook/dp/B004TADHMA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=books&qid=1301056965&sr=8-2

Spotlight on Shared Too by Lily Harlem

2011-04-15T06:00:00.008-05:00

Shared Too

by Lily Harlem

Ten years on I’m still convinced I’m the luckiest woman on earth. Two devastatingly gorgeous husbands committed to my satisfaction—phew!—life doesn’t get much better or much sexier.

But as though the mere concept of a perfect existence was created to be shattered, one day Quinn turned to me and said, “Shared too. I want to be shared too.” Add in the monster that haunted my nightmares and I was struggling to keep a grip on my sanity.

I soon realized that the path Quinn wanted us to travel would stretch not only his experience of giving and taking but also mine and Liam’s. In a whirlwind of desperate emotions, dark desires and erotic fantasy, we were all so distant but also so sublimely close. Sharing had never been as sweet as it was bitter, or as depraved as it was heavenly.

Reader Advisory: Features the sharing of multiple bodies (F/F, M/F/M, F/M/F/M), bondage and other naughty sexual adventures!

An Excerpt From:

SHARED TOO

The next morning Liam was already locked in his office when I awoke. I showered, pulled on jeans and an old top and set about my morning jobs in the yard. After feeding the chickens, I spotted Quinn alone by the fence, dressed in his thick, brown fleece and black jeans. He was staring out over the paddock, his arms spread wide and his back slightly bowed as he gripped the top planks.

I walked over and stood against the fence, placing my hand right next to his. “Morning.”

“Hey.” He glanced at me.

“Are you all right? You look lost in thought.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He stared back out at the paddock.

I waited for him to elaborate. Quinn standing still, not doing something productive was an unusual sight. “So what are you thinking about?”

He sighed. “Stuff.”

“What stuff?”

He gave a sharp shrug. “Last night, with you, Liam. It was good.”

“Yes, it was.” I smiled. “But it always is when we’re together.” I slid my gaze over the horizon, at the swallows flying low and catching the last of the autumn midges before their long migration.

“How does it feel, Ariane?”

“What?”

“To be with two people, have two men adoring you, making sure you get pleasure.” His voice lowered. “Making you come.”

I stared at the lush grass and a lingering buttercup, searching for the right words. They all came to me at once. “It feels intense, super-satisfying, amazing, so damn hot to be completely connected to you both.” I smiled. “Once upon a time you said I was going to be the most pampered, sexually satisfied woman in the world and you’ve lived up to your word…more than lived up to your word.”

His mouth tipped in a grin. “Yeah, I remember that conversation on the balcony. We were so worried we’d scared you off.”

We were quiet for a moment. A tractor pulling a plow chugged in the distance and a murder of crows squabbled in a nearby copse.

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked eventually, poking at a piece of moss on the fencepost.

“I’m just curious.”

“Are you thinking about Eve?”

He turned to me, his eyes searching my face as though examining me for signs of imminent hysteria.

“It’s okay if you are,” I said, willing my heart to stop its sudden thumping. “If you’re thinking about her I’d rather you told me.”

He sighed and looked away.

“You like her,” I said. “You’re attracted to her and you said you’d make sure the two of you weren’t ever in a position to let anything happen again.” I pulled in a breath. “But that doesn’t mean she’s disappeared from your thoughts.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw.

“Was she at Hanrahan’s the night you went there without me?”

He straightened, rolled back his shoulders and turned. His butt rested on the top rail of the fence and he stared across the yard with his arms folded across his chest.

“Quinn?”

“Yes, she was, she was there, okay?”

“And you thought about her after that night?” I kept my voice calm and controlled even though he’d snapped. I didn’t want to fight about this. I sensed it was too important to lose my cool.

“No, yes, well, I thought about her a little.”

“What did you think?”

“That her conversation about patient care and surgical time management was insightful, that the other members of the team respected her, listened to her.” He paused.

“And?”

“And that her hair looked like silk, like a long, golden sheet of silk smoothing around her shoulders as she moved… I wondered what it would be like to touch it.”

I was quiet as I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets. There was a chill in the air that was penetrating more than my skin.

“How do you do it?” he asked, looking down at me with an expression of genuine confusion.

“Do what?”

“Love two men, be with two men. How do you do it so brilliantly?”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“You do, and you have done for so long. Not only that, you share your love and time and attention between our daughters too, and all the animals. I’m in awe of you.”

“Love is worthless until it’s given away,” I said with a smile and rested my fingers on the arm of his fleece, attempting to placate his fractious mood.

“How about attraction?” His eyes flashed. “Is that worthless?” He swallowed and I watched his Adam’s apple bob low then all the way back up again. His jaw tensed and a muscle in his cheek flexed beneath his stubble.

”We’re not talking about me anymore, are we?”

He gave a small shake of his head.

“I don’t know about attraction, Quinn. I’m in love with you and Liam—that’s what I understand, love.”

“But there is a difference between love and attraction. A big difference. I’m in love with you, so in love with you, you’re my wife, the mother of my children, I want to grow old with you, look back on my life and say I spent it with you.”

I felt a sting in my eyes. His words matched my feelings. My emotions were ballooning inside me and I dragged in a breath to keep them under control.

“But…” he said.

I tilted my brows and blinked away the moisture.

“But,” he went on. “Part of me wants her as well. Not to spend my life with her. I just…want her.”

“You said you’re not going to have an affair with her.”

He shook his head firmly. “No, of course I’m not going to have an affair with her.”

“Does…?” I hesitated. “Does that include you’re not going to sleep with her too?”

He shut his eyes for a long second, gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“Quinn.” My voice was shaky but I managed to hide the wobble—just.

“No, I’m not going have sex with her, okay? Because that…” He uncrossed his arms and gripped the rail behind himself again so tight his knuckles paled. “Because that would hurt you.”

“Is that the only reason?” My voice was a little sharper. “Because you don’t want to hurt me?”

“Yes, Ariane, that’s the only reason.” He pushed away from the fence and took several quick strides across the yard.

“Wait.” I rushed to follow him. “You can’t say something like that and walk away.”

“But what else is there to say?” He spun around.

I halted in front of him, put my hands on his chest and willed my voice to stay even. “How about talking about the vows we made to one another in our commitment ceremony, how about that?”

“We never said ‘forsake all others’. Those vows tied us together, you and me, and allowed Liam to be part of our relationship the same way I’m allowed to be part of yours. Those vows make it okay to share.”

“Yes, you share me.”

“But you get us both, don’t you? You get both the people you’re attracted to.”

“Love, Quinn, I get both the men I love, and the whole threesome relationship was your idea, not mine. I had to get my head around it.”

He sighed and looked down at his feet. “Love, attraction, either way, you get it all and it doesn’t seem fair.”

My hands dropped from his chest. My breathing was hard and blew like smoke from my mouth into the cold air. “You want it fair?” I asked, my mind full of disbelief.

His gaze captured mine and his voice dropped low. “Yes.”

“But how would that work?”

“Fair would be me going to bed and being shared too.”

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9259-shared-too.aspx

Miranda's Rights by KyAnn Waters

2011-03-31T07:26:00.001-05:00

Miranda's Rights
by KyAnn Waters

She needs pain…she needs punishment…she needs him.

Jase Ralston gets hot under his very blue collar just thinking about his friend and neighbor, Miranda Carlucci. Yet she can’t possibly be interested—not when she could have champagne, caviar and her pick of Vegas high rollers.

The bruises change everything. She denies she’s in an abusive relationship, but his cop instincts won’t let him rest until he finds out the truth. When he follows her to a BDSM club and finds her writhing under a flogger’s stinging kiss, his Dom instincts kick in.

Jase takes command of the scene—and Miranda—at Club Creed. This is what she’s always wanted. Pleasure, pain…and rough-around-the-edges Jase. Yet after his domination transports her to a level of subspace she’s never known, he leaves her—unwilling to continue the scene.

Confusion gives way to hurt…then anger. He’s claimed her and Miranda wants more. Even if it means confronting Jase and making demands of her own.

Copyright © 2011 KyAnn Waters
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Jase acknowledged he wasn’t in Miranda’s league—not for more than friendship. He was blue-collar and hardworking. Miranda deserved diamonds and caviar. They might live in the same apartment complex, spend time together watching television and even grab dinner together several times a week, but those weren’t dates. Miranda dated up. Her work behind the scenes in the casino industry exposed her to the wealthy, powerful men of Vegas. Upscale scourge. Jase had a gut feeling that her latest guy wasn’t treating her well.

Jase was a Dom. He liked control, but he’d never abuse a woman. Lately he wasn’t sure if someone was hurting her, demeaning her—forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do. That was the problem. She wouldn’t open up to him about her late nights. His thoughts raced in a thousand different directions. Only one conclusion made sense. She didn’t want Jase to know.

Across the hall, a key worked into a lock. Jase stomped across the floor and swung the door open.

“Jase!” Miranda sucked in a sharp inhale, slapped a hand over her heart and spun in his direction. “You scared me.”

Perhaps he should have put on a shirt. Her gaze traveled his torso, igniting small fires over his flesh. She lingered on the open snap of his jeans riding low on his hips and trekked lower to his bare feet.

“And put on some clothes. If Ms. Perry in 3D sees you, you’ll have a stalker on your hands. She drools at anything with a nice body, especially a nice tight butt and—” Her gaze locked on his groin. “Well, and the right anatomy. If she gets her inch-long dragon-lady nails into your back, you’ll need surgery to remove her.”

“It’s close to four a.m. No one else is awake.”

She snorted. “This is Vegas. No one sleeps.”

“Where have you been?” In the span of a heartbeat, he glanced over her from her tousled hair to her askew clothing. The buttons on her blouse weren’t aligned and her stockings were torn. “What the hell happened?” Her sexy lips, normally pouty and pink, were slightly swollen. Dark circles shadowed her red-rimmed eyes.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she whispered. “I’m fine now, Detective. It’s late. You should be in bed.” Her lips curled into a smile.

“You aren’t fine.” His hands balled into fists. This craziness had gone on long enough. He couldn’t stand by and watch her self-destruct. He took a step back. “Get in here.”

Her head cocked to the side. “Jase, I’m tired.” She turned back toward her door and wiggled the key until it turned and the lock popped. “I had a rough night, but really. I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

She glanced at him and her tired eyes widened.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m sure whatever scolding you’re going to give me can wait until morning.”

“Now.”

“Okay.” Her hand paused on the knob without turning the handle. Her head bowed and her shoulders visibly trembled. She was petite, not more than five-foot-five. Jase had eight inches on her and outweighed her by eighty pounds. He could force her into his apartment. But he wouldn’t have to. The Dom in him stirred at her willingness to heed his words. Whether she’d ever acknowledge it, Miranda had submissive tendencies. He tamped down the small thrill and focused on the anger coiling in his gut instead.

“But I’m tired and don’t want to talk.” Miranda crossed the hall and entered his living room. “I just want to crawl into bed and sleep.” She clasped her hands in front of her, a small purse clutched in her fingers. The door closed with a thud and she jumped.

“What is going on with you?”

“Nothing. I went out.” She stood in his living room, glancing at his couch, the window, anything but his face. Normally her bubbly personality had him laughing. At the moment, she seemed almost afraid. He had an infuriating idea of why. The thought of someone hurting her… He growled and jammed his hands into his pockets. He had the mounting need to slam his fist into the wall, scour the city for the piece of shit and show him a little payback. Any bastard who could hurt a woman deserved his ass beat.

Jase understood BDSM. Power and dominance went hand in hand with trust and devotion. He understood the high from pain play. He’d been in the scene long enough to know that the glimmer in Miranda’s blue eyes wasn’t from being taken to the brink and pushed over the edge. She’d been broken, and that wasn’t willing submission. “What has he done to you?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Who? Christ, who do you think?” He stormed across the room and grasped her wrist.

She winced and tried to pull away. “Don’t.”

“Who is doing this to you?” He jerked back her sleeves. Angry red welts banded her delicate wrists. Deep purple and maroon bruises crisscrossed her porcelain flesh. Higher on her arm, four equally spaced marks bore the impression of someone squeezing her, restraining her. “Miranda, I see it all the time. I recognize an abused woman.”

“I’m not being abused!” She jerked her arm, yanking her wrist from his hands.

“That’s more than rough sex.”

“I’m not having sex either,” she snapped.

“And I’m not stupid. Are you going to tell me you did that—” he pointed to her wrists, “—to yourself?”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m ready to go ballistic.” He’d kill the bastard who put his hands on her. “I can help you.” He lowered his voice. “Please, let me take care of this, let me take care of you.”

Buy Link: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/mirandas-rights-p-6289.html

5 Stars & Top Pick for Wrong Number, Right Man

2011-03-23T10:39:00.000-05:00

An oldie but a goodie! That's how the review from Diana Coyle at Night Owl Reviews made me feel about my 2006 release, Wrong Number, Right Man.

Here's some of what Diana had to say...

"I really enjoyed this short story and loved the interaction between Lori and Jack. The sex was hot and left me definitely wanting more...If you’re looking for a hot, steamy read that leaves you breathlessly dying for more then you’ve found the perfect story to add to your library."

To read more of the review, click here.

Spotlight on Waking Maggie by Cindy Jacks

2011-03-21T06:00:00.006-05:00

Waking Maggie
by Cindy Jacks

Maggie’s just decided she’s been stood up when she bumps into hard-bodied guitarist Calvin—literally. Once the shock of their abrupt meeting wears off, Calvin asks Maggie out for a drink and she figures, why not? She’s all dressed up for a date…just not this one.

She enjoys his company, even if he’s only twenty-seven and she’s forty…something. And while witty conversation’s all good, they’re just as compatible in bed. One drink turns into multiple romps between the sheets. He’s old enough to know how to make love to a woman and young enough to look damn fine doing it…and doing it. He even manages to convince Maggie she’s still pretty hot herself.

Now if he would just stop serenading her with that infernal Rod Stewart song.

An Excerpt From:

WAKING MAGGIE

Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

The sound of a gently strummed guitar roused Maggie from sleep. Eyelids flickering open, she saw Calvin sitting in the tufted chair next to the bed, his acoustic guitar on his lap. A lazy smile tugged at her lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Good morning, babe.” He shifted his grip on the fretboard to strike a chord and then slid his fingers back to another. “I’m serenading you…obviously.”

“Is it after ten?” Maggie sat up, stretched.

“Of course. And there’s coffee on your nightstand.”

With delight, she picked up the steaming mug and inhaled—Viennese roast, her favorite. The first sip slid down her throat, smooth as velvet.

He turned his attention to the guitar again and started singing under his breath.

She rolled her eyes. “You know I hate that song.”

Calvin chuckled, a boyish gleam in his hazel eyes. “But I’m sure Rod Stewart wrote it for you.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not that old.”

Continuing to strum the melody, he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

As Maggie’s gaze roamed over the young man’s taut, muscular body, she noticed he was sitting there stark naked, the guitar covering some of his most admirable attributes.

Her eye grew wide. “What have I done to deserve a morning serenade with you au naturel?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, plucking individual notes.

A gust of wind outside the bedroom window drew her attention. The great oak out back danced, shaking loose a few vermillion leaves.

“Of course I remember,” she murmured, setting down her cup and rising from the bed. Smoothing her silk nightie over her ample curves, she padded across the shag carpet and kissed his soft cheek. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

He stopped playing and set aside the guitar, revealing a red ribbon around his cock. “Are you ready for your present?”

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Maggie let out a yelp of amusement. “You’re certifiable, you know that?”

She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Messy blonde curls cascaded down to her shoulders and her eyes looked a little puffy from sleep. Skin not quite as fresh and tight as his—maybe the morning sun really did show her age, as the song stated. Still, not bad for a women of forty-something.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her onto his lap. She twined her fingers through his longish bronze hair. A hungry smirk on his face, he brushed his lips over hers. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh.

“We should unwrap you before you cut off your circulation,” she said, pulling one end of the ribbon.

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9183-waking-maggie.aspx

Shoshanna Evers - What Keeps Me Turning Pages

2011-03-10T06:00:00.054-06:00

My fellow Belle, Shoshanna Evers is here today to tell us what keeps her turning those pages and to share a bit about her newest release from Ellora's Cave, Hollywood Spank. Welcome Shoshanna!

Thanks for having me on your blog, Darah!

So glad to have you, Shoshanna. I've been following you and boy, are you a busy girl!

I’ve been doing a lot of reading this past week, to the point that I’ve barely been writing. I keep buying awesome books and then getting so sucked in that all I want to do at the end of the day is cuddle up with my Kindle!

So it got me thinking – what about the books I love makes them so entertaining? Sure, the writing is usually good, and the characters are intriguing, but the main answer here is conflict. Conflict in a story is what keeps me up at night, turning pages (ahem, pressing buttons) to find out what happens next.

So when I wrote Hollywood Spank, my new erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave, I knew I wanted it to be rife with conflict. I took a movie star and a tabloid reporter—each with a big secret— and gave them the hots for each other. I love torturing my characters :)

LOL I'm sure it's a slow and yummy torture, too. Tell us about your book.

Blurb:

When the studio heads for Mark Cannon’s new action movie discover that their leading man likes to spank his personal assistants, they insist Mark hire a professional submissive who won’t run to the tabloids with his kinky secret.

Andrea Landley may be a wonderful assistant, but she lied through her teeth about being a BDSM pro to get the job—and now her real career as an undercover tabloid reporter has gotten very interesting.

Andrea is willing to do whatever it takes to get the dirt for her scathing exposé—even if it means learning how to take a spanking from a movie star. She doesn’t realize until it’s too late that Mark Cannon has a lot more in store for her than just a simple spanking.

An Excerpt From:

HOLLYWOOD SPANK

Mark stepped quietly into his trailer and placed his script on the little desk. The sight of the slender, beautiful young woman lying on his cot caught him off guard and he swallowed a gasp of surprise. His new personal assistant.

Despite how busy they’d had him in the last couple of hours, Mark had been unable to get Andrea off his mind. He had almost flubbed a line, since his thoughts kept wandering back to his trailer and that amazing ass of hers.

And now, to find her sprawled out on his cot, looking so sweet and…inviting, he could see why she had proved to be so distracting.

His gaze lingered over her long, shapely legs, clad in tight denim jeans, then traveled up her fitted long-sleeve blouse, its deep V-neck revealing just a hint of the swell of her perfect breasts.

He could stare at Andrea like this for hours and never get bored. Mark wanted to pull those tight jeans off her gorgeous legs and ravish her right then and there. His cock thickened at the very thought of having sex with Andrea. Too bad he promised her he wasn’t there to fuck her…and too bad she agreed there would be no fucking.

Andrea crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him.

“Uncross your arms,” he said. “I want to see your breasts.”

Andrea slowly uncrossed her arms and actually blushed as she did so, even though she was fully dressed.

“You aren’t really experienced as a submissive, are you.” It was a statement, not a question. She had lied. It was obvious now that this was all very new to her.

Andrea gasped and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sir. I just really, really wanted this job.”

“Enough to let me actually spank you?” he asked, surprised.

“I may have lied about my BDSM experience to get the job, Sir, but I wasn’t lying about my skill as an assistant, and you saw for yourself that…what you did turned me on.”

Mark looked at her thoughtfully. “That’s true. So let me get this straight. You’re a very good assistant and you’re fully willing to explore the idea of me spanking you.”

“Yes.”

“Because it turns you on.”

Andrea blushed again. Man, that was cute. “Yes,” she said softly.

“So even though I said no sex before, if all this really turns you on, are you willing to get a little sexual?” He sat on the edge of the cot next to her and held her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“I just met you, Sir, and I don’t usually have sex with men I just met,” she said. “I mean, I never do. So, can we get a little sexual without actually having sex, for right now?”

Mark grinned. “Absolutely.”

“So I can stay?”

“Say, ‘Sir, may I stay?’” Mark said.

Andrea didn’t hesitate. “Sir, may I stay?”

“Yeah, you can stay. But I want you over my knee right now for lying to me.”

“Thank you, Sir. For the job, I mean,” Andrea said as she nervously draped herself over his lap.

He locked his legs around hers to keep her from escaping her punishment and raised his hand, relishing that moment right before he brought it down on her ass. “Say thank you for the spanking too.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“My pleasure,” Mark said. “And hopefully, it will be your pleasure as well.”

Yummmm, sounds delicious! Thanks for sharing!

To find Shoshanna, check out her links below.

Shoshanna Evers

Sexily *Evers* After…

Titles at Ellora’s Cave

4.5 Stars & Top Pick for Bucking Hard at NOR!

2011-02-26T15:22:00.000-06:00

Yeehaw, the first review for Bucking Hard is in!

"This story is jam-packed with emotion. I really enjoyed getting to know the characters. The story flows and I didn't want to put it down. Great story and I'd love to read more from Darah Lace."

Thanks Tigger9 and Night Owl Reviews!

To read more of the review, click here.

Beautiful Storm by KyAnn Waters

2011-02-24T07:34:00.000-06:00

Beautiful Storm
by KyAnn Waters
Ellora's Cave

Adrian Beck lost everything, including his passion for designing beautiful buildings, after 9/11. Self-imposed exile on Long Caye Island gives him the sanctuary he needs to live a simple, uncomplicated life.

Isabelle Clemet, of Clemet Hotels, is ready to rebuild after Katrina. She wants the best to design her new project on the coast in Biloxi, Mississippi. She wants Adrian.

Can an erotic late-night encounter on a secluded beach help a lonely architect rediscover his lost passion?

Click here to read more.

Twelve Days of Love for Valentine's Day!

2011-02-14T06:00:00.036-06:00

To celebrate this special day,

I wanted to share

a red hot treat.

Twelve Days of Love

by Tess MacKall

is sure to harden Cupid's arrow

and soften your heart.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Blurb:

Eden Riley left her high school geek days far behind. Or so she thought. But when she returns to her hometown and comes face to face with the local heartthrob, sparks ignite like a chemistry set on crack. Super-smooth Nick Lancaster sets her nerves jangling and thrusts her libido into overdrive. But can the former geeky girl overcome her insecurities and jump his sexy bones?

Nothing suits former jock and debate team star Nick more than sparring with the one-time nerd. He’s just itching to get up close and personal with her high-velocity curves and tangle with her on the nearest bed.

With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, all bets are off when Cupid draws back his bow and Nick has only twelve days to convince Eden she belongs with him, in his heart and in his bed.

An Excerpt From:

TWELVE DAYS OF LOVE
Copyright © TESS MACKALL, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Jingling bells mounted above the flower shop door alerted Eden that a customer had entered the store. She pushed the stem of a pink sweetheart rose into the small wedding bouquet she had just started and wiped her hands on her green wraparound smock. As she turned, she caught a man’s reflection in the glass doors of the refrigerated case.

She couldn’t help but pause and stare. His tall, lean silhouette appeared to be standing there among all those leggy gladiolas and giant spider mums perched in their vases. He reached up to the service counter with one hand and touched the small African violet sitting near the edge. For a moment it looked as though he’d brushed his hand over the big snowy-white spider mum in the cooler.

Eden moaned slightly, his touch so obviously tender. Warm tendrils of longing tiptoed over her skin. She shuddered with the sensation, mentally chiding herself for giving him even a second thought, much less allowing him to affect her physically.

But Nick Lancaster had always worked his way under her skin, even in high school.

He was wet panties and get-naked-quick in one fine-looking package. Bottled sin. A walking aphrodisiac. And all that with just a “hello”. Why did she torture herself with this insane crush? She wasn’t exactly his type, was she? Eden patted her tummy to remind herself of the paunch that sometimes forced her to unbutton her jeans after she’d eaten. Yeah, it hadn’t disappeared, still there.

Nick tilted his head to the side as if to peek into the back of the shop where she stood watching, his mirrored reflection in the glass doors so damn lifelike she took a step back. An exaggerated sigh blew through the workroom’s open doorway, a sure-fire sign his patience had grown thin. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and glanced up at the ceiling.

Eden squared her shoulders, inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and stepped into the showroom. Both Nick’s eyebrows quirked when she appeared and he grinned. She nodded, smiled and planted herself on the opposite side of the counter. He looked too damn delicious today in his dark green Polo shirt and navy blazer. Why did he have to be so handsome?

“Hi, Nick. I might have known I’d be seeing you. The countdown has begun, hasn’t it?”

A distinct V formed between his brows, his grin fading into a frown. “Countdown?”

“Yeah, countdown.” Eden gestured toward the large, heart-shaped day calendar on the wall behind her.

Emblazoned in sparkling gold against the bright red background over the heart’s two humps were the words “Valentine’s Day Countdown”. The number twelve was displayed in bright red and centered inside a pale blue and white wisp of a cloud with Cupid sitting on top, his bow drawn.

Nick focused over her head. “Oh!” Then he frowned even harder. “Well, what was that crack about ’might have known I’d be seeing you’ all about?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

He pursed his luscious lips and squinted his gorgeous green eyes. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“Where the hell did you get that idea?”

It never failed. Every time he came into the shop, they ended up arguing. She always managed to make some snarky comment, and of course, he picked up on it. They’d been at odds since their freshman year of high school. Both had joined the debate team and had never seen eye-to-eye on a single subject.

Slowly but surely they’d gravitated to different ends of the spectrum in popularity too, which hadn’t made things any easier. He, with his Adonis good looks and nothing-but-net shooting ability, naturally floated to the top; she, with her wide hips, pimply face, geeky glasses and penchant for all things artistic, sank to the bottom.

Now here they were, all these years later, no further from that high-school type of relationship than when they’d started. Except Nick had taken over his father’s string of Chevy dealerships and she had moved back home last year, forsaking her managerial position at an up-and-coming art gallery in New York to take over her ailing mother’s flower shop.

Times and situations changed but evidently people didn’t.

“If you don’t want me as a customer, Eden, why don’t you just say so?” He leaned forward, folding his arms over one another on the counter’s faux granite surface, watching her intently.

Lemon drops. He always smelled of lemon drops—and some expensive cologne she couldn’t remember the name of. God, she wanted to reach over and ruffle that thick, wavy black hair of his. Oh shit. Wet panties alert! He managed to do it to her every time without even trying.

And oh how she wished he would. Fat chance.

“I do want you as a customer,” she said succinctly, trying to put an end to the verbal scuffle.

“So? What was that crack all about?”

“Nothing. Just pointing out the countdown is all. I’m a florist. Valentine’s Day is important to me.” Actually, her remark had been a direct jibe regarding his frequent flower-buying miles. He constantly had arrangements delivered locally and wired over a three-state area with each card signed, “Yours, Nick”.

“Your mother is a florist. You’re a stand-in.” He grinned, wet his index finger with his tongue and painted the air with an imaginary mark. “Score one for me.”

Her mouth dropped open. She had a damned art degree in her back pocket. He, on the other hand, had dropped out of college after year two thanks to a bum knee and the fact he’d no longer be able to pump up his already over-inflated ego with the roar of the fans. How dare he call her a stand-in!

“I’ll have you know that I started working in this shop when I was twelve years old. Every day after school, weekends, all summer long too. I’m the one who made those sweet little corsages for all your high-school dance dates. So don’t say I’m not up to the job.”

He jabbed the rigid fingers of his left hand into his right palm—time out. “Chill, girl. Damn. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel one of these days.” He shook his head. “I was joking, messing with you. But I really meant that as soon as your mother was feeling better, you’re gonna be out of here and back to that fancy New York art career of yours.”

Did she detect a note of jealousy? Impossible. Nick Lancaster had it all. Well, except for his divorce, that is. Her mother had told her all about it right after Eden had taken over the shop. Nick had shown up on Eden’s third day to place an order and their customary enmity from high school had picked up right where it had left off.

Eden had related the entire scene to her mother at home that night and was shocked to learn that Nick and his wife, Jenna, had called it quits. He’d caught her dead-to-rights with her masseuse.

The vision of Jenna’s toothy white smile, platinum pony-tail and deep cleavage bouncing up and down right along with the whimsical sashay of blue-and-white pompoms rollicked in Eden’s mind. The cheerleader prom queen sure had screwed up her life. How the hell could she ever want anyone but Nick?

Eden tucked her fingernails into her palms and squeezed, jolting herself back to the present. Who was she to talk? Her judgment where love was concerned wasn’t so great either.

She picked up the order book and scratched out Nick’s name on the appropriate line. “I won’t be going back to New York.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned in closer.

The lemony scent became downright heady. Have mercy. Her nipples poked at her thin cotton sports bra. Tingles of lust wound their way straight to her pussy. Maybe she should start keeping a supply of clean panties on hand.

He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“You looked like you spaced out for a few seconds.”

“Just thinking. Now what would you like to order today?”

He shook his head. “Not so fast. Why aren’t you going back to New York?”

“Mom’s not going to be able to return to work. She’s now on dialysis.”

He glanced down at the floor then back up at her. His usually devilish eyes had softened. “I’m sorry to hear that, Eden. Your mom is a nice lady. I hope her condition improves.”

Eden averted her gaze. He was being nice. And Nick Lancaster’s “nice” wasn’t something she could take. As long as he played the fool with her, she could handle him, but this side? No.

She pressed the pen against the paper. “Thank you. So how many dozen roses? One for each of the Twelve Days of Love? A dozen different women or just one special lady this time?”

He choked with laughter, sputtering, “The Twelve Days of Love?”

She rolled her eyes. “Florist marketing. If you can have the Twelve Days of Christmas, why not the Twelve—”

“Days of Love,” he finished in a sarcastic tone.

Eden perched her hand on her hip and stared at him.

He licked his lips. Lusty butterflies fluttered in her lower abdomen, sending a delicious pleasure-pain to body parts she didn’t even know she had. Her stomach somersaulted. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Damn. She had to stop doing this. They didn’t even like each other. She wasn’t his type—no pompoms. He’d laugh his ass off if he knew how I felt. As long as she didn’t see him, she was fine. But if she had to talk to him, be near him…

He came around to her side of the counter. “How long have we been rubbing each other the wrong way?”

Eden skirted past him and walked over to the display window. She twisted a pot of heavily leaved philodendron so its back side faced the sun. “Forever. I’ve got a wedding tomorrow, Nick. I hate to rush you, but…”

When she turned from the window, he was standing in front of her almost nose to nose. She stumbled backward and he caught her, resting his hand at her waist. He stared into her eyes. How had she failed to notice those little gold flecks swimming in the dark green depths of his? His breath soughed warm over her face—more lemon drops and something else—his unique male scent.

And his hand—was it on fire? He took it away and the temperature of her skin where he’d been touching her plummeted.

“What will you be doing that night?” he asked.

“Wh-what night?” Surprised she’d found her voice, she hurried back to the counter and picked up the order book again.

“Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “I’ll be lucky to get out of here by nine. And love will be the last thing on my mind, I can assure you.”

“No date, huh?”

“I don’t have time for dating. Can we do the order?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets before he moved back over to the counter. “So you didn’t leave any broken hearts in New York?”

Where the hell is he going with this? And why?

“I’m not exactly every man’s idea of the perfect date. Now if you don’t mind—”

“What’s a man’s idea of a perfect date?”

Exasperated, she blew out a burst of air. “I don’t know and don’t care. I have more important things to do these days than worry about the likes and dislikes of men.”

“What’s more important than love? You’re the florist.” He pointed to the Twelve Days of Love calendar.

“Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re willing to sell the product of love but you don’t believe in it.”

“And you’re driving a Mercedes but you sell Chevys.”

Nick propped his hip against the counter, grinning. “Nobody’s ever challenged me the way you do, you know that?”

“Nobody’s ever pissed me off the way you do. You know that?”

His expression sobered. He looked wounded. “I don’t mean to.”

Deep down she knew that. Guilt crested inside her. “I guess we’re just oil and water, Nick. No harm done.”

An awkward silence rose between them. They just stood there staring at each other until Eden couldn’t take it another second.

“You still want to place the order?”

“Yeah,” he said, soft and low, in an almost-defeated manner.

A few minutes later, Nick had placed an order for roses to be delivered on Valentine’s Day to seventeen different women. With every name and address he read to her from his BlackBerry, Eden jabbed the paper a little harder with the pen. Her stomach churned at the thought of all those women. In her mind, she pictured them with pom poms, blonde hair and long, tanned legs.

And they giggled.

Yep, she was definitely wasting panty moisture on thoughts of Nick. Her five-foot-four, big-hipped frame capped off by average-sized breasts would never stand a chance against all those big-busted beauties. Even her soot-black hair was a sharp contrast to what Nick wanted.

“All right. I think I’ve got everything. I have your credit card on file. How about the card? The usual ‘Yours, Nick’?”

“Yeah.”

He sounded dejected. She would too if she’d just spent seventy bucks a pop on seventeen different women. No. That wasn’t it. Nick had money. Apparently their antagonistic relationship had gone a bit too far today.

Maybe this was his last order. How would she feel if that was the case?

“Thanks, Eden.” Nick headed for the door, stopped short just as he reached it, waited the space of a few seconds, then opened it. The bells jingled. He continued to stand there with his back to her. A car alarm blared out in the street. He closed the door and marched back to the counter.

Eden just knew he was going to cancel the order and that would be the end of Nick and her silly schoolgirl crush. Head held high, she braced herself for whatever he was about to say.

“I think it’s a case of practicing what you preach,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re right. I should drive a Chevy and you should believe in love.”

His shoulders relaxed and he let out a long breath as if he’d been holding in what he’d said. And now that he’d spit it out, he seemed relieved.

“We’re back to that?”

“Yes, and I think we should do something about this,” he twirled his finger in front of him, “this oil-and-vinegar thing we have going on.”

“Water. Oil and water. You mean try to get along?”

“Whatever. And exactly. After all, it’s that time of year. The Twelve Days of Love.”

She smiled. “Okay, Nick. I’ll try if you will.”

Maybe they could get along. Of course, it wouldn’t help the physical side of things as far as she was concerned. But he didn’t come into the shop more than a couple of times a month. It might be nice not to feel so angry and wet when he left the next time.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at your mother’s house at seven.” He strode toward the door.

It was as if the floor fell out from under her. She grabbed the countertop. Blood rushed to her head and her heart drummed so loudly she thought surely the vibrations would bring the roof down on top of her.

“What!”

Nick spun on his heel. “Seven o’clock. Jeans will be fine. Twelve days, Eden. Twelve days of practicing what you preach. I’ll be driving a Chevy when I pick you up too.” He yanked the door open so the bells jingled, grinned, offered her a little salute and closed the door behind him.

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-9071-50-twelve-days-of-love.aspx

Bucking Hard Released Today!

2011-02-11T06:00:00.033-06:00


Bucking Hard

Woohoo! Bucking Hard is out today at Ellora's Cave! If you enjoyed Saddle Broke, return to Grayson, Texas to meet Bradi and Mason and catch a glimpse of Lindsey, Clay and yes, Evan.

To celebrate, I'm giving away a FREE copy of Bucking Hard. Just post a comment on this post anytime over the weekend, and I'll draw a winner at noon on Valentine's Day.

Blurb:

All her life, tomboy Bradi Kincaid has wanted two things—a career as a veterinarian in her hometown Grayson, Texas…and Mason Montgomery. Problem is, he’s her best friend and according to him she’s “one of the guys”. Convinced he’ll never see her otherwise, Bradi comes up with a sure-fire plan to get over Mason—flirt a little, dance a lot and get laid.

What Mason imagines doing to Bradi is just all kinds of wrong. But the woman on the dance floor isn’t the girl he grew up with. She’s hot and sexy and turning him on. Him and every other man in the bar. She’s also had too much to drink and is unaware of the trouble she’s inviting. He does what any friend would, he steps in, then sets out to teach her a lesson.

But before the sun rises, Mason discovers Bradi has a thing or two to teach him.

This story contains spanking, biting and some “tie me up”, bucking-hard sex.

An Excerpt From:

BUCKING HARD

Copyright © DARAH LACE, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Mason crested the hill overlooking the creek and reined in Rocky, his favored mount for riding the range. He’d heard the bawling calf a quarter mile away and figured he’d find it stuck in the mud. He hadn’t expected to find Bradi Kincaid. In fact if he’d known she’d already ridden to the rescue, he would have headed the other way.

But here she was not ten feet away, ass in the air, up to her knees in green slime and mud, her arms around the struggling calf’s neck, and she still managed to light a fire in his gut. And dammit, that was just all wrong.

They were best friends, for Christ’s sake. Practically raised in the cradle together. They’d fished and hunted side by side, ridden drag to bring up the tail end of cattle drives. And they’d gotten into more trouble than a switch could whip out of them. She was his best bud, one of the guys.

So why did his dick suddenly become a divining rod every time she was near?

She wasn’t unattractive. But Bradi was nothing like the women he preferred. She wasn’t sleek or polished or sophisticated. Her fingernails were cut close to keep the dirt out instead of long and meticulously painted to match her outfit. Her dirty blonde hair was either in a ponytail or a braid, and as far as he knew, had never been streaked, colored or cut to the latest fashion. And she might carry ChapStick in her front right pocket to ward off the blistering Texas sun, but that was the extent of her makeup.

Bradi was Bradi—natural, earthy and blessed with athletic grace that made ranch work look easy—and more often than not these days left him wondering what that lithe and flexible body would be like in bed.

“You gonna sit there all day, or are you gonna help me?”

Leaning forward to rest his forearm on the saddle horn and hopefully hide his growing erection, he tilted his head to one side and smirked at the picture she made. “I don’t know. You look like you’re doing just fine on your own.”

She blew wispy bangs out of her green eyes and gave him a withering glare over her shoulder. “Throw me a rope.”

“Where’s yours?” He looked around for her horse but the only other animal in sight was a cow waiting for Bradi to rescue her calf. “Wait, don’t tell me. You were riding Dahlia.”

That damn horse had a habit of leaving Bradi high and—his gaze wandered over her again—not so dry. Covered in muck, the front of her faded yellow T-shirt was wet and clung to her breasts. Breasts he’d known she possessed but never really noticed until two weeks ago. His gaze locked on the words peeling across the chest. Not that he cared what they said with her nipples prodding so diligently through her bra.

Mentally castrating himself, Mason sat up and reached for the coiled rope attached to his saddle. “When are you going to take that piece-of-shit horse to the glue factory?”

“Just shut up and throw me your rope.”

Ignoring her demand, Mason swung the lasso and sent it sailing over the calf’s head. He pulled the rope taut, wrapped it around the saddle horn, and directed his horse to back up. The little bull cried louder as the mud slowly relinquished its hold. As soon as the calf’s legs found firm ground, he dug in, resisting the pull of the rope.

Bradi laughed and reached for the calf just as it wrenched to one side and kicked. Twisting, she dodged a hind leg, but her feet were still stuck in the mud and she went to her knees. Another kick and brown sludge splattered her chest and neck. “Shit.”

Mason chuckled. “Yep, I imagine so.”

Shooting him another scathing glare, she struggled to stand. “You’re an ass.” Able to finally extract one leg and then the other, she trudged out of the creek toward the calf. “Give me some slack.”

He signaled his horse forward and Bradi deftly slipped the rope from the calf’s neck. The bull bolted for its mama and together they ambled up and over the high bank then disappeared. Looking back at Bradi, Mason wished he hadn’t.

She’d moved up the creek and knelt in a spot of grass to wash the mud from her hands. Tight faded denim hugged her heart-shaped ass and his hands itched to palm those mounds. She stretched to wet a bandana, causing the waistband of her jeans to dip lower, and a strip of hot-pink lace played peek-a-boo between it and her shirt.

His jeans tightened as his cock strained against his fly. He’d never thought about what kind of underwear Bradi wore—she was naked in his recent fantasies—but if he had consciously thought about it, he wouldn’t have figured her for the lace panty type. Last time he’d seen her in her panties, she’d worn white cotton with a Barbie logo. They’d been six and he’d wanted to brag about his Ninja Turtle briefs.

As she rose, he looked away to gather the rope. He stowed it behind him and turned to find her standing beside his horse with her hand out. Fuck. She wanted a ride. And god, he wanted to give her one.

“Well?” She thrust her hand higher. “Give me a hand up.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He hadn’t thought this far ahead when he’d decided to stick around and help, and his brain certainly wasn’t working now. All he knew was he couldn’t have her sitting behind him, her tits rubbing his back, legs spread… Fuck. “You’re covered with mud.”

“Um, yeah. I kinda noticed that.” She stared up at him with expectant green eyes. Why hadn’t he ever noticed the flecks of gold or the ring of black that reminded him of the sun coming through shadowed forest trees? At his lack of response, her hand fell to her side. “You’re going to make me walk?”

“I don’t want that shit all over me.” Damn, he felt like an ass. He was an ass. He couldn’t let her walk. He’d just have to survive the ride home…and make sure it was a short one.

Before he could offer his hand or an apology, her eyes flashed with anger. And maybe a bit of hurt? “God, Mason, when did you turn into such a pussy?”

She spun around and the metallic whir of a zipper crawled up his thighs and into his balls. Lust rose high but panic shifted into overdrive. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes so you won’t get dirty.”

Oh, hell no! There was no way— Shit. She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her jeans, starting the downward motion that revealed a hint of one cheek.

“Just get on the damn horse.” He pulled his foot from the stirrup and stuck out his hand. “But I can’t take you home.” His place was closer. “I have things to do.”

A long second passed, then the zipper made a return trip up. His dick jerked in disappointment as she latched on to his hand, shoved her boot into the stirrup and swung herself onto the horse behind him, mimicking his irritated tone. “Things to do.”

The warmth of her body seared his back as she settled into place. His gaze dropped to one side, taking in the slender thigh nestled close to his. The thought of those long legs wrapped around his waist made his balls ache. If she had any idea what she was doing to him, she’d be glad to walk home. Hell, she’d probably run.

But Bradi wasn’t wired that way. He doubted she ever thought about sex. She’d never dated in high school and she never talked about anyone in particular at A&M. The only conversation they’d had about sex was short-lived when he confided his loss of virginity to Katrina Forbes and Bradi made it clear right away the subject of sex was off-limits.

The odds of her still being a virgin at twenty-five were slim, but somehow he couldn’t imagine her having sex with anyone.

Anyone but him.

Buy Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-9082-50-bucking-hard.aspx

Taken by Nicole Austin

2011-02-10T06:00:00.014-06:00

Taken
by Nicole Austin

Bound, gagged, blindfolded—Danielle has been taken.

Under the skillful hands of an anonymous stranger, the lines between fear and anticipation, reality and fantasy, anguish and carnal tension are blurred. The thin edge separating pleasure and pain has distorted, reshaping into something that confuses Dani while simultaneously stimulating the scorching demands of her body.

Forced pleasure may bring sexual freedom, but the violent lust Dani craves comes with a hefty price that may be more than her husband is able or willing to satisfy.

This story contains a whole lot of fantasy about and a little reality involving forced sex.

A sequel to the free Naughty Nooner, Erotique.

An Excerpt From:

TAKEN

Copyright © NICOLE AUSTIN, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Be a good girl, do as I say, and I’ll make it good for you.”

Dani took stock. She didn’t know that deep, rumbling voice. Didn’t recognize the woodsy cologne combined with his decidedly masculine scent. Wasn’t familiar with the touch of those large, work-roughened hands.

She shivered as the lines between fear and anticipation, reality and fantasy, anguish and sexual tension all blurred. There was only now and her stranger who was going to rock her world.

A cold, thin, pointed object pressed against the hollow of her throat, drawing Dani’s full attention back to him. “Don’t move, blondie,” he ordered. “Wouldn’t want to slip and cut your soft skin.”

The icy blade of a knife slid down her sternum, passed through her cleavage and continued to her navel as he sliced open her scrub top and bra. That had to be one hell of a sharp knife.

Not wanting to be cut, Dani forced down the powerful urge to arch her back, thrust her breasts into the light caress. With the slow glide of the blade over her sensitive skin, everything else faded away. There was only her body and the chilling touch that rolled her beneath sensual waves of desire.

He didn’t pause to part the material, instead continuing his downward stroke, sliding beneath the edge of both pants and panties, moving at an angle from navel to her right hip. After repositioning the knife, he repeated the action at her left side.

Grasping the ruined garments, he pulled them apart, tearing the remaining cloth to expose first her breasts and then her pussy. He sucked in a hard breath as cool night air swept over her bared flesh, pebbling her areolas and elongating her nipples. She knew the view he was treated to, as the stimulation would’ve turned the rosy peaks a dark shade of red.

“Now that’s a pretty sight. Perky, responsive nipples and a shaved, pink pussy that’s all nice and wet. You’ll fetch a fortune at auction.”

Auction?

Dani’s chest tightened and her heart thudded against her ribs. What the hell was he talking about? Human trafficking? Sex slaves? People weren’t auctioned. Not in this day and age in Western Europe. Maybe decades ago in someplace like Thailand or an Arabic nation. But she was safe from such horrors in France, right?

Of course, she wasn’t naïve to the horrors of this world. No one was truly out of harm’s way anywhere. Horrible people wrought atrocities on unsuspecting innocents every day.

The sobering thought nearly pushed her into a full-out fight or flight response, but then his fingertips closed on her nipples, rough and demanding. They pinched, rolled and tugged the sensitive nubs, creating jolts of erotic pleasure-pain that followed a network of nerve endings straight to her engorged clitoris. Regardless of what was going on in her mind, her body responded to the stimulation.

Dani arched, the gag failing to suppress her moan. Hoping not to draw attention to her actions, she shifted one thigh against the other, her motions limited by the ankle restraints. Dark laughter let her know her captor hadn’t missed the telltale movement.

“Ah. So you enjoy the bite of pain with your pleasure, blondie. Good to know.” Skilled fingers teased her skin with light touches that made her yearn for more. “One of the perks of my job in procurement is that I get to sample the merchandise before it goes on the auction block. Test out the wares, so to speak. Damn, blondie. I can’t wait to shove my cock past these pouty lips.”

Something brushed over her top lip, which tingled, yearning for more. If he were planning to fuck her mouth, he’d have to take out the gag first. Then she’d have a chance to turn the tables, use her teeth—

“I know what you’re thinking.” The sharp point of the knife pressed into the tender skin just below her right ear, traced a line down her neck and over to the opposite ear, the implied threat unmistakable. “Don’t forget that I am in control. You use those teeth and your punishment will be severe.”

Nicole's Book Page Link http://www.jasminejade.com/m-20-nicole-austin.aspx

Nicole's Website http://www.nicoleaustin.net

Are You Ready To Go Wild?

2011-02-04T06:00:00.058-06:00

One of my fellow belles, Juniper Bell, has gone a little wild and would like you to join her!

Tips from Wild, Alaska on how to survive a long, hard winter:

1. Throw a party
2. Make it last all weekend
3. Follow one rule – “Anything goes, nothing counts.”
4. GO WILD

On Friday, February 4th, you’re invited to Wild Nights 2011.

Let off a little steam, crank up the heat, and see what happens
when Lars Nordegren pulls out all the stops to get Katia Pollard to say “yes.”

Go Wild
Juniper Bell

Lars loves Katia. Katia loves Lars. Lars wants to marry Katia. Can he convince his free-spirited lover that marriage will be as fun as her sexually adventurous single days?

Never before has Katia been tempted to give up her carefree ways. She’s deeply in love with Lars, but she doesn’t know if he can handle her wild side—or needs.

But Lars is a hard man to resist. The former Olympic champion won’t give up—not when he knows just how to please her.

The people of Wild, Alaska know the best way to survive winter is to let off a little steam. When Lars’ buddies hit town for Wild Nights, a notorious winter festival with one rule—“anything goes, nothing counts”—he jumps at the chance to prove he’s the perfect man for Katia.

He vows to win her over, even if it takes four rugged Alaska men and one wildly erotic night in a sauna.

Note: Features an extended ménage (M/F/M/M/M), anal play and references to bondage experimentation and sexual escapades of all types.

An Excerpt From: GO WILD

Storm-dark eyes demanded her response. In bed, when he got that look, she knew there was nothing for it but to bend over, spread her legs, whatever it was he’d demanded. Ecstasy always followed. Lars knew how to touch her like no one else, knew what she liked, what she needed.

But he didn’t know everything.

“You’re trying to put me in a box,” she said, loud enough to surprise a magpie in the woods. It fluttered to a higher branch.

“How? Why?” He actually looked mystified.

“You’re telling me who to fuck, and how, and when, and why. I don’t want a ‘why’, Lars! I want to fuck who and when I want. For whatever reason.”

“Katia, I know you’re a wild child. I know you like sex in all sorts of different ways. That’s one of the things I love about you.” He dropped his ski poles and pulled her toward him, thrusting his thigh between her legs. An instantaneous, irresistible urge to rub herself against him took over. She pictured his thigh naked, each massive muscle perfectly defined and sleek. On its own, her groin ground into him.

His eyes lit with fierce satisfaction. “See that? You’re just as crazy about me as I am about you.” He planted his hands on her ass, then manipulated her up and down against his leg until she moaned. “You can’t run from what we have.”

She tore herself away, stumbling because of her skis. He grabbed her so she wouldn’t fall. “Stop that.”

He came after her, intent and relentless. The sexy bastard knew what he did to her. Knew how to keep her coming back for more.

“Look, Lars. This isn’t going to work.” She scrambled for the right words. “I can’t marry you. The answer is no.”

His storm-blue eyes flickered, but other than that he didn’t look one bit daunted. He kept coming at her. “Why? Because of Jimmy?”

“No! Well, sort of.” She shook him off, and this time he let her ski a few yards down the path before he stopped her.

“Sort of? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means the answer is no. I can’t marry you.” She said the words as firmly and clearly as she could. It hurt like surgery, but it had to be done.

Lars rubbed a ski glove across his forehead, leaving a streak of white. She longed to brush it off, but stopped herself short. She couldn’t do this if she touched him. Touching him made her lose her senses. “Is it Wild? Living in Alaska? The cold?”

“No, none of that,” she said, taken off guard. “I like it here. No one’s telling you what to do or pushing you around. No one’s judging you. You can do what you want.”

The look of relief on his face tore at her heart. “I thought Alaska would drive you away from me.”

She shook her head. “No, it didn’t. It isn’t. It’s not Alaska.” A glance around the still woods gave her a quick vision of snow turning blue in the deepening dusk and velvety darkness settling among the trees. The beauty of it speared her heart. Leaving Lars would mean leaving Wild. She’d have to go back to the world of cities and her aimless existence.

Setting her jaw, she planted her ski poles and shoved off.

Of course, Lars chased her. “Then what? Give me an answer I can understand.” He slid next to her and they skied side by side. He had to keep brushing branches away with his pole.

”Oh, for God’s sake. Why do you have to be so persistent?”

“Because that’s who I am. I’m a competitor and I never give up.”

“This isn’t a race!” But she found herself skiing faster nonetheless.

“No, it’s more important than a damn race. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I thought you loved me.”

“I do. But I don’t want to be married.”

“Because marriage is a box.”

“Exactly.” Finally, he got it. Hope fizzed through her. Maybe they could just go back to how things were.

“You don’t mind it when I’m making you come three times in one night.”

“Of course I don’t.” The power of his body gliding next to her gave her the shivers.

“You don’t mind it when I tie you up and fuck you until you scream for mercy.”

“No. I love it!”

“But it’s not just sex. Everything feels right when I’m with you. When we’re together.”

“But we are together. That’s why I came here.”

“So why not get married? That’s what comes next when people feel the way we do.”

Katia’s eyes stung from the wind in her face, or maybe the realization that he didn’t get it, after all. Up ahead she saw their house. Lars’ house. The one she couldn’t stay at anymore. She stopped, panting, and waved a ski pole at him.

“Why can’t you leave things the way they are?”

“The hell with that.” He lifted her up with one hand on the back of her jacket, like a giant cat with its prey. “You want me right now, don’t you?”

“Yes! But you don’t understand.” Those last words came out as a wail as he clicked off the bindings on her skis. They clattered against each other as they fell to the snowy ground.

“Then make me understand.” He let her feet touch the ground again, but kept his grip on her parka. With a flick of his free hand, he unzipped her snowpants. The rush of cold air made her breath catch. He plunged his gloved hand between her legs. Tears sprang to her eyes as the rough friction of the performance leather, custom made for an Olympic champion, brushed against her clit. She went from zero to wildly aroused with one flick of his finger.

“Oh god, Lars. You’re killing me,” she moaned. The underbrush rustled as some tiny alarmed creature scurried to safety.

She writhed against the leather at her crotch, but his hand kept dancing away. The warmth of it radiated through the glove. His refusal to move against her the way she craved drove her right to the edge.

And he knew it, the bastard.

Buy link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-9073-50-go-wild.aspx

Release Date for Bucking Hard!

2011-01-25T06:00:00.002-06:00

Bucking Hard

Coming to Ellora's Cave

February 11, 2010

All her life, tomboy Bradi Kincaid has wanted two things—a career as a veterinarian in her hometown Grayson, Texas…and Mason Montgomery. Problem is, he’s her best friend and according to him she’s “one of the guys”. Convinced he’ll never see her otherwise, Bradi comes up with a sure-fire plan to get over Mason—flirt a little, dance a lot and get laid.

What Mason imagines doing to Bradi is just all kinds of wrong. But the woman on the dance floor isn’t the girl he grew up with. She’s hot and sexy and turning him on. Him and every other man in the bar. She’s also had too much to drink and is unaware of the trouble she’s inviting. He does what any friend would, he steps in, then sets out to teach her a lesson.

But before the sun rises, Mason discovers Bradi has a thing or two to teach him.

This story contains spanking, biting and some “tie me up”, bucking-hard sex!

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-9082-50-bucking-hard.aspx

Bachelor Auction up for Siren's Best Book 2010!!!

2011-01-11T16:09:00.000-06:00

Bachelor Auction

has been nominated for

Siren's Best Book 2010

Contemporary Romance Category

To cast your vote for

Marcus and Charlotte, visit

http://sirenbookreviews.weebly.com/nominees-contemporary-romance.html

Bachelor Auction gets Siren's Best Book Stone!

2011-01-10T19:30:00.000-06:00

I just found out
Siren Book Reviews gave
Bachelor Auction
the Siren's Best Book Stone!

"Bachelor Auction was an exceptional read. I thought it would be a fun, long read about a couple who just didn’t quite land on the same page, but it was so much more than that."

Thanks Cia!

To read the
rest of the review,

click on the link below.

http://sirenbookreviews.blogspot.com/2010/12/darah-lace-bachelor-auction.html?zx=501338f152e905bc

Cover for Bucking Hard!!!

2010-12-06T16:43:00.000-06:00

OMG! I just got my cover

for my upcoming release at Ellora's Cave,

Bucking Hard

and I just had to share!

Mmm, he's exacly how I picture Mason--hot and hard!

Thank you, Syneca, for another wonderful cover!

4 Hearts for Bachelor Auction!

2010-12-04T19:41:00.000-06:00

Woohoo! Sizzling Hot Book Reviews awarded 5 Hearts to Bachelor Auction. Thanks Vicky!

"After many ups and downs, false starts, and some steamy scenes that lead to emotional confrontations, Bachelor Auction is a good romance, too."

5 Dragons for Saddle Broke!

2010-12-01T11:50:00.000-06:00

I'm late posting this but still doing a snoopy dance about it. Veiled Secrets Reviews gave Saddle Broke a glowing review and 5 Dragons! Here's what Judy had to say...

"Saddle Broke had me panting heavily from the start. It's an absolutely intense story about an extraordinarily macho and sexually determined man...The pages just fly by as I read this intensely erotic story. I couldn't put it down."

Thank you Judy! You made my week!

Guest Spotlight on Lily Harlem

2010-11-29T00:01:00.165-06:00

I was able to nab one of my Ellora's Cave pals for an interview. Lily Harlem has multiple releases (heh heh yes, I'm grinning) due out with EC and she's sharing a bit about them. So let's get to it!

1. How did you come up with the idea for Mattress Music?

'Mattress Music' is part of the Love Note Series so music had to feature heavily in the story and let's just say I have a complete obsession with Kings of Leon! I play their music all the time, when I'm cooking, driving, ironing. I love their lyrics, I love the way Caleb says certain words, I love their cute young guitarist!! I probably shouldn't admit to all of that but its the truth! So when I wanted a story about music they were my inspiration. I can't say too much more or I will give the plot away. But it was wonderful creating such sexy characters that I could play about with in my own little fantasy world. In fact I fell in love with them all so much I went on to write two more in the series, 'Mirror Music' and 'Ménage à Music' which will be out after Christmas - I just couldn't leave those 'rock and roll' boys alone!

Mattress Music

Is it possible to lose one’s ability to orgasm? Nina has. Lately, her fun weekend hook-ups have been more “ho-hum” than “hot damn”! It doesn’t help that she has three flatmates and is forced to play loud music to mask the sounds of her lovemaking. Talk about distracting! Of course, there’s another reason Nina’s less than satisfied these days…she’s just having a hard time admitting it.

It’s a good thing she’s met Ian, then. Not content to be a weekend hook-up, Ian is set on giving Nina what she’s been missing while making her admit what she needs. His talented fingers—and other body parts—are up to the task. But Ian’s not admitting a few things himself. Turns out his fingers can do more than make Nina’s body sing.

When she discovers his secret, it’s time for both of them to face the music.

Excerpt:

“You’re fucking awesome,” he whispered into my ear on a hot, panting breath.

“You too,” I said, running my hand down his perfectly smooth back. Not a pimple anywhere, just acres of glorious hot, male flesh and a deeply guttered spine lined with solid muscle. “Really good.”

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Liar.”

“What?”

“Liar, you didn’t come.”

“I did, it was great…you were great.” Lying to a man who was buried inside me was not something I was good at.

“I’m not stupid, Nina, I can tell when a woman orgasms. I can’t always tell the difference between real and fake, but bloody hell, you didn’t even try to pretend, not even a little wriggle and a gasp at the right moment.”

Frowning and shifting my hips I muttered, “Sorry,” as I pushed out from under him.

“Don’t be sorry.” He rolled to his side, bent his arm and propped his head on his hand. The flat silver cross around his neck hung toward the mattress. “Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it for next time,” he said, still catching his breath.

Next time? Not likely. One-night stands were my game. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I pulled the duvet to my chin and turned to the wall. “It was me.”

He caught my jaw. “Tell me,” he ordered, tipping me to face him. “I want to know.”

Through the dim light, blushed orange by a streetlamp, I could see his dark eyes staring straight into mine, unblinking. One of my flatmates banged crockery in the kitchen next to my room then a deep rumble of laughter from one of the guys, Jerry I think, filtered through the thin wall.

“Why do you care?” I asked, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m lying naked in bed with you, we’ve just shared as intimate an experience as two people can, and you wonder why I’m bothered that you didn’t have as good a time as me? Would I be human if I didn’t give a shit?”

I shrugged. Candle in the Wind had finished, and in its place Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me was swirling around us.

Too late to save myself from falling—

That was me, I thought, too far gone on this road of shagging any cock I could find to be saved. In my old flat, living with Dee and Fiona, life had been great and mattress music was never needed. We all just went for it, having as much sex and as many noisy orgasms as possible. We would giggle about it over breakfast and swap stories about what racy shenanigans we’d been up to.

But now they’d moved on. They were both head over heels in love and settled in their own homes, leaving me out on a limb and living here with strangers.

Of course I wasn’t technically alone, but if I was honest I’d never felt so lonely. I didn’t want to be, loneliness was like a dull, gray hole swelling inside me. Starting in my stomach and stretching outward. And in the center of this hole was a new bitter emotion―envy. I envied what Dee and Fi had found, lasting love with respect and commitment. But admitting what I wanted and changing the fact that there was no one special in my life were two separate issues.

More pressingly, at the moment anyway, nor could I change the fact that I hadn’t orgasmed since I’d moved. My one-night stands just weren’t doing it for me anymore. The intimacy of getting naked and sweaty with someone wasn’t satisfying the hunger, the need that was eating away at me like an itch I couldn’t quite reach.

I’d been here three weeks, three fucks. But each week there had been something sneaking into my brain that had distracted me from the delicious build-up to climax. Deadly quiet the first week when I was with a bodybuilding scaffolder from Durham, every mattress squeak and grunt sliding under the door and echoing through the walls. With Dave, an earnest accountant from Chelsea, a knock on my door midway through a blowjob put me off my stride. And now this morose mattress music was stopping me from having a great time with the truly gorgeous Ian.

“Nina?” Ian pressed, dragging me from my depressed musing.

“It was the damn music,” I said with a frown. He wasn’t going to let it drop so I might as well fess up. “I couldn’t concentrate. You were doing it right, great, but I just kept thinking of Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana and Elton singing at his piano with his big, wobbling white wig and that mole thing he used to paint on his cheek.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. A big guffaw that shook the bed.

“Shh!” I pressed my fingers to his lips.

“Thank God for that,” he said, grinning. “Thought I’d lost my touch.”

“It’s not funny,” I whispered.

“No, no.” He tried to straighten out his grin. “Of course it’s not. I’ve just never thought of it before, the words in a song competing for the attention of the woman I’m trying to please.” He dropped a kiss to my lips. “So why did you put it on if you don’t like it?”

“So no one will hear. The walls here are so thin, and I’ve got male flatmates who I don’t want perving with glasses pressed to the walls.”

“You think they would?”

I sighed. “Probably not, they seem nice enough, but just the same…”

“You want your privacy.”

“Exactly.” I paused then sighed. “We should have taken a cab and gone to yours.”

“Yeah, but this was closer, much closer, just a quick walk around the corner.” He smoothed the hair from my face. It always went wild after sex. The hundreds of tiny, copper corkscrews seemed to take on lives of their own. “Maybe we could leave the music off and do it really, really quietly,” he whispered, spreading springs of my hair over the pillowcase.

“No,” I said. “That won’t work, I’ll be too conscious of even our breathing, or if the mattress squeaks.”

His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his cheek flexed, then he got up, walked to the iPod and finally silenced Elton. “This isn’t over you know.”

Buy link for Mattress Music

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8777-50-mattress-music.aspx

2. You're website indicates you travel. Can you share some of the sexiest places you have been?

I do like to travel and I'm lucky that I've had many opportunities over the years. I'm a qualified nurse which opened up countries such as Australia and New Zealand for employment when I was younger and now that I write I travel with my man if he goes abroad on business - which he does regularly. We spent some time recently in Amsterdam and I loved it. Not for the gaudy sex shops and the red light district but for the lovely canals and bridges, the way everyone rides around on their bikes, hair flowing skirts billowing and ringing their bells at one another. The art galleries were amazing and the restaurants served wonderful food and great beer. There was something so relaxed about Amsterdam. It doesn't pretend to be anything it isn't, it's not competing with London or Paris or New York. It's just what it is, liberal and beautiful with an incredibly history. I guess that's the same things I find sexy in people, self assurance, being comfortable in their own skin and pushing the boundaries if it feels right and its what they want to do.

3. What's in the works for you?

I've just finished editing the first full length novel in my 'Hot Ice' series which is all about the bad boys of ice hockey. It's called 'Hired', it was a blast to write and Brooke is one feisty lady who knows what she wants.

Blurb: One hundred grand for five days of babysitting ice hockey bad boy Logan “Phoenix” Taylor on an island paradise. How bad could he be?

Frankly, it didn’t matter. Not when the money would give my dreams of going to nursing school a very real chance of coming true. I wasn’t even expected to talk to him, just hang out in a luxurious villa on a private beach and study for the admissions test. Simple.

But I didn’t count on Logan being so deliciously bad that he was oh, so good. And somehow he saw right into the deepest, darkest part of my soul then gave me exactly what I needed.

But when our emotions become involved the situation spiraled out of control, making the truth that I’d been hired for his pleasure a secret I had to keep...even if it cost me a broken heart.

'Hired' is due for release in the New Year, the second in the series, 'Cross Checked' is finished and the third is still rattling around my head! I must be the only one hoping for a couple of months of bad weather so I can get my head down and let is spill from my fingertips!

4. What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Okay, here goes, maybe I’m a bit kooky but this is what I do…

When writing dialogue just go for it, let it flow out of your fingers as fast as you would speak. Don’t even think about speech marks and punctuation, or if he is scratching his head and she’s licking her lips, you can add all that in afterwards – dialogue moves the story forward and if you can get it flowing naturally then you’re onto a winner.

Don’t get bogged down with adverbs, eg. he groaned ‘loudly’, she panted ‘heavily’, it’s considered much less lazy to write ‘his groans were loud in her ear’ or ‘her heavy pants filled the small space’. There’s usually a way to describe your scene better if you circle around the adverb and it will make the story meatier.
Let a story brew in your head. Have the idea, jot it down if you need to, and then sit quietly and play out the scenes like watching a film in your imagination. It will give you a clear picture of what you want to achieve in your writing and help you with the tiny details.

If the house is quiet make the most of the peace and get busy getting those words down. You can iron and dust and cook when everyone is around. Writing, for me at least, requires silence, so silence has become a very valuable commodity in my life.

Incubate the final product. When it’s written tuck it aside, for a few days, longer if you can, then go back to it. I can guarantee you’ll spot silly mistakes, inconsistencies or simply find better word choices to slot in. There’s nothing worse than sending a manuscript off and then on a re-read seeing stupid errors. In fact now, when something has gone I refuse to look at it again unless it’s with an editor.

Check out www.erotica-readers.com it's a great site with a list of all the current calls for submissions.

5. Where can we find you?

Swing by my website www.lilyharlem.weebly.com to find links to all my stories, meet other great authors and check out my inspirational pictures!

Be sure to also watch for the release date for 'Mirror Music', the second in the musical series and sure to make you want to rock 'n' roll.

Thanks so much for sharing, Lily!

For a chance to win a FREE copy of Mattress Music, leave a comment on this post. One lucky winner will be drawn and posted here on Wednesday at noon.

Leap by Cindy Jacks

2010-11-11T20:59:00.000-06:00

Leap

by Cindy Jacks

Blurb:

Just when Lila has resigned herself to the fact the most exciting chapters of her life are over, a blast from the past walks into her bakery. Six feet of gorgeousness named Gavin drops by as she’s closing up shop. They were once high-school sweethearts and it’s been more than twenty-five years since they’ve seen each other, but time hasn’t diminished the sweet heat between them. Soon enough the sparks—and the frosting—begin to fly.

As they rediscover each other’s bodies, it’s clear Gavin’s no longer a boy as he shows Lila the man and skillful lover he’s become. Though Lila knows this whirlwind romp could be an act of insanity, his touch unleashes the sensual woman she’s forgotten she could be. And she thinks—maybe—she has one more leap in her.

An Excerpt From: LEAP

Gavin followed her through the swinging door to the back. With a low whistle, he looked around the kitchen and asked, “Is this place all yours?”

“All mine.”

She walked over to the Purposeless Cake and stared down at it. Pulling a box from beneath the worktable, she started to put it away, but then thought better of it.

“Are you hungry?” asked Lila.

“I could eat.”

“Good.” She pulled a knife from a drawer, cut slabs of cake and served them up on heavy-duty ceramic plates. Gavin grabbed two stainless-steel forks from a gray plastic silverware tub to his right.

She handed him his plate.

“This looks great,” he said.

“Taste it.”

He shoveled a bite into his mouth and moaned. “Oh my God. This is— Damn.”

Lila grinned. “Thanks.” She took a bite of cake. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

Pulling up two barstools, she sat and motioned for him to do the same. Lila studied him as he moved to take a seat. Taller, broader. Gavin had become fully a man. Though he was clean-shaven, she wondered what he’d look like with a beard. Could he grow one now? His dark hair led to about an inch or so of well-filled-out sideburns. Yeah, she was sure he could grow out his facial hair and he’d look pretty damn good if he did. Not that he didn’t look great as he was. The cropped, clean-cut look worked for him. A whisper of gray touched each of his temples and he wore that well too.

Her gaze wandered down his frame. No excess flesh or jutting bone. His tight musculature shifted his frame with ease. Clearly he took care of himself, worked out often. A picture of him shirtless in some imaginary gym, sweat dripping down a cut chest and abdomen, appeared in her mind’s eye. She blinked away the thought, trying to focus on his words and ignore the pounding of her heart. Her hand strayed to her matronly bun and the bobby pins holding it in place. She picked them out of her hair, one by one, and shook out her shoulder-length tresses.

“Mom said you’ve been at this location for the past ten years. I can see why,” said Gavin.

She cleared her throat. “Jack helped me set it up after we got divorced.”

“After?”

“It was a pretty amicable split…as divorces go.”

“My ex, Irene, and I went through a pretty rough one a couple years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He took another bite of cake. “It’s all good now.”

Lila worked on her piece for a few minutes in comfortable silence and then asked, “Why did you come here tonight, Gavin?”

He glanced around the room and gave a little shake of his head. “To see you.”

“I get that. I mean what were you expecting from me?”

He rubbed his hand on the front of his jeans. “No expectations. It’s—it’s just good to be back. You’re part of my memories of home. I guess. No, I mean you are. Definitely.” He grunted and rolled his eyes. “I’ll stop rambling now.”

She let out an amused huff under her breath. “You’re fine.”

She slid her fork over her plate and scraped up the last of the frosting and crumbs. Her tongue darted over the fork tines and licked them clean.

Gavin reached out his hand. “You got a little chocolate…”

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. She let her tongue graze the tip of it. Shocked by her own audacity, she shied away from his touch but he cupped her face in one hand.

Eyelids lowered, Gavin leaned in. Dark lashes rested against his cheek. Warm lips skimmed across hers. The hand under her jaw slipped beneath her hair and cradled her neck. Lila’s body relaxed into the kiss, sliding her tongue over his. For a moment she lost herself in the scent and the taste of him—chocolate richness and the citrus undertones of his cologne, but all too soon, she remembered the shards of glass lodged in her heart. Pain at the memory of Alan’s departure stabbed at her.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured.

“Maybe not.” He gave her a quick, soft kiss and then a longer, more urgent one.

Shouldn’t be doing this, Lila thought. A list of reasons she should rebuff his advances scrolled through her mind. She was still getting over Alan. She hadn’t seen Gavin in over twenty-five years. Jesus Christ, a quarter century. Nothing good ever came from rushing into sex. But who said they had to go that far? Well, she did want to fuck him. No denying that. But the last thing she needed was…was…?

The feel of his heated mouth against hers overrode her common sense. Oh, to hell with it. Why not?

Available now at Ellora's Cave!

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8822-50-leap.aspx

Sold Bucking Hard to Ellora's Cave!

2010-11-08T16:54:00.000-06:00

Woohoo! I'm shouting out!

My wonderful EC editor (waving at Jilly) wants Bucking Hard!!!

Keeping Claire by KB Alan

2010-11-03T20:04:00.000-05:00

Keeping Claire

by KB Alan

Ellora's Cave

Claire’s been fantasizing about the owner of her company since she first saw him. Ryan is gorgeous, confident and sexy as hell. In other words, so not her type. With the crazy life she leads, it’s best to stick to men who are happy to do what she tells them to, then disappear. Since Ryan would never abide by those terms, it’s best to keep him right where she’s got him—in her dreams.

Ryan gets up close and personal with Claire while investigating a threat to his company. Once he’s convinced she’s not out to hurt what he’s helped build, he refocuses his more-than-human energies on his intriguing employee. When she quits, insisting it’s best if she leaves town, he’s determined to convince her otherwise. At least long enough to get a taste of her. And the more he tastes, the more he touches, the more he wants. Now he just has to convince Claire that what they have is worth fighting for, and he’s more than up to the task.

An Excerpt From: KEEPING CLAIRE

It took two trips before they had everything transferred to the lovely nook off Jacob’s kitchen. Instead of blocking her into the middle of the bench seat, Jacob pulled a chair from against the wall and sat opposite her. She wasn’t sure she could suppress her relief so she picked up her wineglass and hid behind it.

Jacob’s sigh suggested he wasn’t unaware of her hiding.

“I think it’s time you told us what’s going on,” he said.

She put down her glass and nudged the basket of garlic bread closer to Ryan so she didn’t have to look at it.

“Fine. I grew up with bad people. Monsters. I chose to leave and they’re not happy about that, so I need to stay hidden. Simple. It’s best to stay ahead of them, trust me, so I’ll just leave here and you don’t have to worry about me, or them, anymore.”

“Monsters?” Ryan glanced at Jacob in surprise before returning his attention to her. “Demons?”

She blinked at him. “Uh. No. Murderers. Rapists. Thieves.”

“Ah.” He sat back with a smile. “We can help you with that.” He resumed eating.

Fear for them tried to intrude but she pulled on her anger instead. “No, you can’t. And you won’t. You’ll stay out of it. Stay safe. Stay away from me.”

Ryan just waved his fork at her, his mouth too full to answer.

Crossing her arms over her chest she leaned back and glared at him.

His confidence should piss her off. Did piss her off. Too bad it was also sexy as hell. A man shouldn’t look sexy eating spaghetti, damn it.

“Let me be very clear. I’m not asking for your help. I don’t want it. The only thing I need from you is to let me walk away. And if you don’t, you won’t just have the monsters to deal with, you’ll have me. If I wouldn’t put up with being ordered around and kept in place by the people who made me, you can sure as hell bet I won’t put up with it from you.”

“Of course you can leave, if you want to,” Jacob said.

Ryan opened his mouth as if to object, but remained silent.

“I would appreciate it, though, if you would tell us your family’s name, so that we might be prepared,” Jacob added.

She looked back and forth between them but neither seemed concerned. Her well-developed sense of the truth told her that Jacob meant what he’d said. So, okay, they were just going to let her go. That was good. Right.

“I’ll think about it.” She tucked back into her dinner. She’d need all the good fuel she could get as she started on the next phase of her life. And the wine didn’t hurt, either.

Jacob managed to get them chatting casually while they finished the meal, then brought out ice cream and all the fixings for sundaes. She was too tired to be more than mildly amused that the elegant man kept such items on hand. Pouring heated caramel sauce over the French vanilla ice cream, she caught Ryan’s intent gaze as he added chocolate to his own. A sudden vision of him licking the sauce from her breasts rose in her mind. Her breath caught at the vivid image and she forced her attention back to her hands, righting the jar and placing it back on the table. Ryan picked up the can of whipped cream and slowly leaned over to dispense a long layer of creamy goodness into her bowl.

She refused to meet his eyes as she picked up the maraschino cherries and spooned a couple from the jar. What the hell, she would only have this one night with him, maybe she should give in to the heat that was building between them. Though he wasn’t her usual type, there was no denying that he made her body ache. A sprinkle of nuts finished off the sundae and she picked up the bowl and moved to the living room.

A fire crackled and she headed for that, taking a seat on the raised hearth. Jacob followed her in, sitting on the large leather sofa. When Ryan joined them he moved straight toward her, sitting close enough that the heat from his thigh rivaled that of the fire. She considered giving him a good death glare before changing seats but decided she would be spiting herself more than him. The truth was she liked the feel of him next to her. She relaxed her body, letting her leg fall slightly closer to his.

The first bite of the sundae was perfect, just the right combination of ice cream and toppings. She closed her eyes and savored the treat. Her mind wandered back to the vision of Ryan licking sauce from her breasts and she moaned around the delicious coldness.

Ryan shifted restlessly next to her and she suppressed a smile. Oh yeah. One night with him would carry her through years of the dishrags she usually limited herself to. Her nipples tightened at the idea. Another cold spoonful did little to counteract the heat that was consuming her body. Next to her, Ryan was shoveling in his sundae at an alarming rate. Hiding a smile, she slowed her own pace even more, letting the spoon slide out ever so slowly between her lips, eyes closing again to fully appreciate the deliciousness.

The clatter of bowl hitting hearth made her heart beat faster but she maintained her pace, bringing another spoonful to her lips. Her eyes opened slightly when Ryan leaned into her, bracing a hand against her back. She angled the spoon toward him and he parted his lips. She made sure to get cream on his lip before allowing him to draw the spoon inside. His eyes were hot on her, full of intent and promise. A shiver raced up her spine and he pressed his hand harder into her back, his thumb taking up a circular caress.

She pulled the spoon back and he swallowed before darting his tongue out to clean the mess she’d made. Was it intentional that he left the bit at the slightly pointed bow? She hoped so. Leaning forward, she darted her own tongue out to catch the speck of whipped cream. A tiny growl came from him as she pulled back. He tightened his arm, holding her close.

“Are we going to do this?” His breath whispered against her lips. “If you want me to leave, tell me now.”

She put her hand on his thigh and slowly inched it up, eyes steady on his, lips a breath apart. Angling her hand in, she found her prize. He caught his breath as she palmed his length, hard and growing harder.

“You won’t stop me from leaving in the morning?”

“I won’t stop you.”

“You would walk away, right now?” she asked, dismayed to sound so breathless. Damn it, she was going for saucy and in control. To compensate, she squeezed, hard.

“Only if you asked me to.” He brought a hand up to her cheek, a gentle caress that had her heart clenching.

But it wasn’t her heart that she wanted clenching so she closed the tiny distance between them and captured his mouth with hers. She wanted hot, hard, fast. Now. He tasted of chocolate sauce and vanilla and met her demanding kiss thrust for thrust. Her hands scrabbled at his shirt, desperate to find a way inside and feel bare skin. He stood, pulling her up with him, then lifted her so her legs came naturally around his waist. His obvious strength should have frightened her, but she could only be thankful as he stalked out of the room, never backing away from the kiss that threatened to consume her.

Click here to purchase.

Newly Released Patriot Secrets by Jerri Hines

2010-10-24T15:49:00.000-05:00

Patriot Secrets by Jerri Hines

It's a dangerous game you set to play, Miss Corbett. One that can have far worse than deadly consequences!
In the midst of the struggle for America's bid for independence, Hannah Corbett makes a fateful decision, descending into a world of deceit. Spurred by revenge, she heads to New York, setting in motion a dangerous game for which there is no return. Searching desperately for the man who betrayed her family, she faces the cold and brutal reality of the life of a spy. Caught in a web of lies, living with betrayal, she is trapped. She has nowhere to turn except to a man it would be treasonous to love, setting duty and desire at war. Her heart is ripped apart when she must choose between the man who risks his career and life to protect her and the only thing that has remained constant in her life...her belief in her cause.

Here's where to purchase!

http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=79&products_id=327&zenid=ba3806df0ea43b9ddbb9074072283906

4.5 Stars & a Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews

2010-10-08T19:26:00.001-05:00

OMG, I can't believe I didn't get this on my blog before now. I must have been overwhelmed with excitement. But here I am, going to brag about the 4.5 Stars and a Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews for Bachelor Auction! Thanks Diana!

"I really enjoyed this story by Ms. Lace. I loved Charlotte and Marcus and...I loved the dialogue between these two characters...After reading this story and enjoying it so much, I’m definitely looking forward to reading more from Ms. Lace in the future!"

To read more, click HERE.

The Romance Studio Reviewed Bachelor Auction!

2010-09-24T07:32:00.000-05:00

Bachelor Auction gets 5 Hearts from The Romance Studio! Thank for the lovely review, Brenda!

This storyline is an attention-getter and one hard to put down. The subordinate characters help make the book a poignant travel through the ups and downs of their relationship...Readers should rush out and get this book. You will not be sorry. Kudos, Ms. Lace!

To read more: http://theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/bachelorauctionlace.htm

Spotlight on: Punishing the Thief by Shoshanna Evers

2010-09-20T06:00:00.019-05:00

I was able to nab Shoshanna Evers for a few questions about her new book Punishing the Art Thief, just released at Ellora's Cave. Here's what she had to say:

How did you come up with the idea for Punishing the Art Thief?

I was browsing the FBI website (don’t ask) and saw that they’re still looking for a bunch of famous paintings that were stolen back in 1990 from a museum. I did some more research and started thinking, “What if a woman finds one of those missing paintings and tries to steal it back?” Then, because I have a dirty mind, I thought – “What if the security guard who catches her doesn’t want to let her go?” LOL

I see you wear many hats. You must be very organized. Any tips on how to "do it all"?

I’m still trying to figure that out for myself. I work on the weekends as a registered nurse, so during that time I focus completely on nursing and my patients. When I’m home, my writing time revolves around my toddler. One day a week I write an advice column, but that really doesn’t take too long so I usually will write erotica and my column on the same day. Actually, you know what? I don’t watch television. That right there frees up a ton of writing time for me.

Is it easy switching between writing erotic romance and being an advice columnist?

Oh yeah. Writing a column is so different from writing erotic fiction. When I’m giving advice, I’m using my skills as a mother, nurse and wife, not really as an author. Although sometimes I want to give racy advice and I have to remind myself that it probably has no place in a local newspaper.

What advice would you offer aspiring writers?

Keep writing and keep submitting. The only difference between a published author and an aspiring writer is the one who got published never gave up. Also, read a lot in the genre you want to write in. I don’t understand writers who say they don’t have time to read.

Can you tell us a little about your new release with Ellora's Cave, Punishing the Art Thief ?

Here’s the blurb for this erotic art heist:

Security guard James Tannen has been lusting after art history professor Melissa Dwyer since he sat in on her class three years ago. She crashes a private art unveiling at his employer’s house—then costs him his job by stealing a previously stolen priceless painting. She’ll do anything to keep the painting for herself—and James will do anything to get Melissa into his bed.

They agree that if she spends the weekend with him, he won’t tell a soul about her stolen masterpiece. It’s blackmail, but it’s also the perfect excuse for Melissa to get to know James. He takes a few of her erotic books for research, even though she’s never tried any of the risqué sexual techniques she reads about and masturbates to. Bondage. Nipple clamps. Butt plugs. Spanking.

If James is using her personal book collection as a script for their weekend together, Melissa knows she’s in for a wild ride!
Click here for Punishing the Art Thief at Ellora’s Cave: http://www.jasminejade.com/pc-8635-8-punishing-the-art-thief.aspx

Also, keep a look out for Ginger Snap, an upcoming Ellora’s Cave Quickie. It’s a Christmas story about ginger-figging, lol.

Where can we find you?

My website, www.ShoshannaEvers.com, on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/ShoshannaEvers, and for aspiring writers, my blog www.TheWritersChallenge.com. If you email me I promise to email you back! shoshanna.evers at yahoo.com

Thanks Shoshanna for taking time out of your busy schedule to tell us about yourself and your new book Punishing the Art Thief.

Leave a comment for Shoshanna and enter a drawing for a chance to win your FREE copy of Punishing the Art Thief.

Bachelor Auction Gets 5 Tea Cups and a Glowing Review!!!

2010-09-17T19:52:00.000-05:00

Woohoo! Bachelor Auction received a 5 Tea Cup Rating from Happily Ever After Reviews! And I'm so excited about what she had to say! Thanks so much Denise!

"The characterization in ‘Bachelor Auction,’ complete with the wealth of emotion Ms. Lace weaves with language left me completely absorbed, pulled in, and drawn so tight I could barely tear my eyes away...Do not, do not, do not miss this book."

To read more, click here.

L. Rosario Talks Trivia about Posessing Haley

2010-09-07T00:01:00.014-05:00

Today I'm thrilled to have L. Rosario as a guest on my blog. I won't bore you with mushy details about how much her friendship has meant to me over the last four, almost five, years. So let's hear what she has to say about her latest release, Possessing Haley.

I'm so excited about my new release, Possessing Hayley, my first with Ellora's Cave! I thought it would be fun to share some "trivia" with you about the story, such as the original title and how this story relates to some of my earlier vampire romances. I hope you enjoy the tidbits then post a comment for a chance to win a copy of Possessing Hayley!!

What you might not realize about Possessing Hayley:

The original title was Claimed.
The coven that Alec calls home is the same coven appearing in 3 of my earlier stories, Blood Ritual, Captive Fantasy and Exiled.
The master of said coven is a vampire of mystery. Only his queen knows his name, well, and anyone who reads all the way to the end of Blood Ritual ;)
Inside the coven's dungeon are swords and coffins used to punish unruly coven members. One coffin is currently occupied by a troublesome vamp from my novel, Captive Fantasy. I wonder if he'll ever get out? ;)
When heading out to save Hayley, Alec is told to bring along a servant. He takes Chase, a character who made his first appearance in Exiled.
Speaking of Exiled, that book's heroine, Nadia, is briefly referenced in a scene between Alec and Hayley.
And on a final note: just because a story ends it doesn't mean we have to say goodbye to the characters forever. One never knows when or where they might show up next!

Blurb:

Alec has resisted the idea of an eternal bond for six centuries. Now his master has ordered him to save a woman who has been left for dead, and there’s a catch—in order to successfully save her life, Alec must make Hayley his own. In every way…

Hayley was only looking for a good time, but when the good time turns into a strange waking dream full of vampires, bloodlust and scorching sex, she no longer recognizes who she is or what she has become. She clings to Alec, the sexy vampire with possession in his eyes. Without him, she’ll never be able to adjust, but he holds back, denying the bond she craves.

But it’s a bond that cannot be denied for long. Upon returning to the coven, a simple truth awaits. If Alec does not claim Hayley, another will.

Reader Advisory: If it’s bloodlust you want, you’ll get more than your share in this scorcher that offers a little ménage, a little M/M foreplay and a whole lot of bloodsucking sizzle.

An Excerpt From: POSSESSING HAYLEY

Copyright © L. ROSARIO, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

The underground chamber, or dungeon as most called it, was not a happy place. Very few coven members had ever stepped foot down there, nor did they wish to. Used primarily for punishment, the dungeon housed a half-dozen coffins and an impressive collection of swords. The coffins were for bad vamps the master hadn’t decided to kill yet, and to Alec’s knowledge one was currently occupied. The swords were for…well, it was rather obvious what the swords were for.

Alec sidestepped the row of coffins and found the master standing at the back of the room. They made brief eye contact then Alec followed his gaze toward the wall. He halted in his tracks.

Ben. The vampire was chained, and by the smell of burning flesh in the air, the chains were silver. He was naked, emaciated and looking like he’d just crawled from a grave. It wasn’t a good look. Even for a vampire.

Alec moved alongside his master, unable to tear his gaze from his old, yet unrecognizable, friend. “You sent for me, my master?” Given the situation, not to mention the location of the meeting, total deference seemed a good route to go.

“As you can see, Benjamin has decided to drag his worthless hide back to the coven.” The master crossed his arms and looked at Alec. “It seems life on the outside was harder than he anticipated.”

Ben had run away? What fool would leave the coven and all its delights for life on the outside? “Why has he been quarantined?”

“You know the rules, Alec. Benjamin ran away and then suddenly reappeared. It would be irresponsible to allow him to run about the coven before ascertaining if he is clean.”

“And is he? Clean?” Alec glanced at Ben, who looked anything but clean.

“No.” The master moved closer to Ben, which caused an immediate reaction. As if jolted from a deep sleep, Ben jerked his head up and violently fought against the chains. Smoke wafted from his wrists as the silver burned away more flesh.

Alec wrinkled his nose and turned away. Poor bastard. “I sense we aren’t talking about hygiene, Master.”

“No, not at all.” The master lashed out and took hold of Ben’s greasy hair to yank his head back. “Would you like to tell your friend what you are guilty of, Benjamin? Tell him why you are chained to a wall contemplating the kiss of a sword at your neck.”

Ben’s wild gaze found Alec. His throat worked, his lips parted but speech seemed beyond him. Clearly if Alec wanted the story from Ben, he’d have to go in and get it. Holding Ben’s gaze, he forced himself into the vampire’s mind. Weak with hunger and fear, Ben was easier to read than a picture book.

There was a woman, dark and sultry. Her husky laughter crawled through Alec’s senses, enticing him as it must have enticed Ben. She was so real, so tangible, he could feel the heat of her skin, smell the fragrance of her hair and taste the sweetness of her lips as Ben kissed her. He wanted to bite her. No, that was what Ben wanted, what he asked for. Another laugh, another passionate kiss then she stripped out of her dress to offer the perfection of her body. Ben swept her hair aside, placed his mouth to her neck and unsheathed his fangs.

Alec sucked in a deep breath. He could feel her pulse against his own mouth; feel the tension in her body as it anticipated the bite. His fangs throbbed, his mouth watered. He heard her gasp, smelled the momentary fear then tasted the blood. She was delicious. Clean. Unsullied by the feedings of other vampires. Envy grabbed hold of Alec. Who was Ben to enjoy such a treat? Alec was older, more powerful, more deserving. The woman should be his.

Lost in his own cravings, Alec nearly missed the feel of the woman’s pulse slowing against his mouth, the taste of her blood changing. She was dying, and yet Ben continued to take. The images shifted, blurred, until Alec could see nothing but red. The woman’s blood. It poured from her, from the tear in her throat. She lay on the bed whimpering, once, twice, then nothing. He saw her from far away, as though Ben stood on a threshold, unsure if he should stay or go. As the images faded to black, Alec recognized the dark city streets and tasted Ben’s horror.

The bastard had left her. He’d left her to die.

Alec took a step back, disgusted to be so close to the monster he had once called friend. “Do we know where the girl is?” He kept his gaze on Ben but addressed the master.

“That is why I summoned you, Alec.” Releasing Ben, the master stepped back. “Benjamin was kind enough to supply this.” He reached into his shirt to pull out a necklace. Taking it off over his head, he tossed it toward Alec, who plucked it from the air. Dangling from the long cord was a key. On one side was the logo for a seedy motel, and on the reverse, the number sixty-six.

Alec frowned. “He left her here?” If she hadn’t been dead when Ben left her, she would be now. The motel was located in just about the worst part of town imaginable. The master couldn’t possibly be thinking to send—

“I want you to find the girl.”

Fuck.

“If she is dead, dispose of the body.”

“And if she isn’t?” Alec put the key around his neck. Centuries of loyalty kept him in the room when all he really wanted to do was leave before the master could answer.

“Make her yours.”

Double fuck.

The frantic rattling of chains and the smell of burning flesh drew Alec’s attention back to Ben. “Mine,” the captive vampire hissed. “Mine!”

Alec arched a brow at the master. “He doesn’t seem too happy about this.”

“Benjamin has lost the right to an opinion.” Ouch. “I will keep him alive until you find the girl and contact me about her condition. If she’s alive, killing Benjamin might harm her. For the time being, he is her sire.”

“Unless he didn’t get around to giving her any blood.” Ben’s final memories of the incident had been fractured by fear and guilt. Alec hadn’t been able to tell exactly what had happened once the girl’s throat had been ripped open, just that Ben had placed her on the bed before fleeing the scene. Blood could have been exchanged, but he doubted it.

“We will play it safe and keep him alive for now.” The master left Ben and took hold of Alec’s arm to guide him away from the prisoner. “If you find the girl alive, she will be confused, angry even. Being with someone who understands abandonment should help her.”

“Forgive me, Master, but my sire abandoned me well after the change was complete.” And good riddance to the selfish bastard. Once the initial shock of being alone had worn off, Alec had been better off without his sire, safer too. There’d been rumor of the vampire’s capture and destruction. Never confirmed, but a void existed in Alec where a blood link should be, leaving him to believe rumor was fact.

“Aye, I know, but I still believe you’re the best one to see to this.” The master’s stern expression discouraged protest, even in one as old as Alec. Maybe in the outside world, were they to meet one on one, Alec could take the master. His sire might have been a bastard, but he’d been old and powerful. It would be one hell of a fight, to be sure, but Alec didn’t exist on the outside. He existed here, in the coven. The master’s coven; where obedience bred happiness.

“Very well, I’ll call you the moment I find the girl.” He’d do as instructed and save her life if possible, but the part about making her his? The memories he’d pulled from Ben, the woman’s laugh, her scent, her naked perfection, they reappeared long enough to make Alec falter.

No, he did not crave a bond. What he felt for the woman was pity, nothing more.

The master studied him closely. “I can only imagine the thoughts you’re hiding behind that mental shield of yours.”

Alec smiled, confident in his ability to keep the master out.

With a soft chuckle, the master shook his head and moved toward the door. The air barely stirred in his wake. “One more thing.” He halted and turned. “Find an unbound male servant to take with you. If you find her alive, and she survives the transformation, her body will crave more than just blood. You will be grateful for the help, trust me.”

Having never made a vampire, Alec could only go by his own experience and how he had felt upon awakening for the first time. He’d been beyond hungry and hornier than a teenager with his first hard-on. Within the first six hours he’d fucked his way through four whores, and had all but drained three of them of blood, before his sire stopped him. Yeah, he was going to have his hands full.

“Will one servant be enough?” Why not bring two? Or three?

The question seemed to amuse the master. “Do you question the stamina that has earned you a rather interesting reputation within this coven, Alec?”

Reputation? What the fuck? “I had no idea I had a reputation.”

The rare grin actually widened. “One servant will suffice, Alec. Be gone within the hour, and good luck.”

Thank you for stopping by, thank you for taking the time to check out Possessing Hayley's little known facts and don't forget to leave a comment for your chance to win your very own copy!

A special thanks to Darah for letting me celebrate my release here today!

You can find L. at www.lrosario.com or www.loradarling.blogspot.com

First Review for Bachelor Auction!!!

2010-09-06T00:01:00.002-05:00

Woohoo! Seriously Reviewed gave Bachelor Auction an 18 and had this to say...

"I fell hard for both main characters...as it should be in a well written story. Emotion, drama, lust, drama, conflict, lust, fight, make-up, love, passion. It was all there and then some. Ms Lace has done it yet again with this winning book."

To read more, click here.

Thank you Seriously Reviewed!

Triple Winners of Bachelor Auction Release Day Contest!

2010-09-05T09:41:00.000-05:00

Three blogs--three winners!

Congratulations to Fedora, Loretta, and Nikki!

And thank you to

Renee at B.ReneeBagby Presents First Chapters

and L.Rosario

for making Bachelor Auction's release day special!

Bachelor Auction Released Today!

2010-09-03T07:27:00.000-05:00

It's finally out! Bachelor Auction is officially released today at The Wild Rose Press!

Help me celebrate by leaving a comment at any and all of the following sites and I'll put your name in a drawing to win one of three prizes--your choice of any of my books.

L.Rosario's My Other Haven

http://www.loradarling.blogspot.com/

Read the first chapter at D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters...

http://dreneebagbypresentsfirstchapters.blogspot.com/

or my here on my blog.

I'll draw a winner Sunday and post the results here and in the comments at the other two locations! Squee! Off to pop the top on some cyber champagne!

Click here to purchase.

The Lie Revealed and a Winner Drawn!

2010-08-20T16:08:00.002-05:00

Thanks to all who played Catch Me In A Lie with me! It's been fun! Sorry it took me so long to post the winner. I've had a hell of a day, starting with having to go into work early and then getting off late!

As promised I will now reveal the lie and a few truths!

1. I did interior design for three years. I sold Home Interior and right away discovered people really wanted help designing their room, not just their wall. My parties turned into fun for all when we rearranged furniture, switched pillows in one room to fit better in another, or picked out the best drapes to match a room’s interior. LOL I had to give it up, though. There was no money in it without a degree.

2. I’ve walked in dinosaur tracks. About an hour or so from my home there is a large creek bed that has dinosaur tracks. When it’s dry--I’ve never known it to have water but I’m sure it does at times--you can walk the bed and study the footprints.

If I had one, I think I'd like this sexy little fairy!

3. I have a tattoo of a fairy on my ass. Yep, as most of you guessed, this was the lie. I do not have a tattoo of a fairy on my ass. In fact, I don’t even have a tattoo. But I’m curious. Why did most of you think I had one, just not a fairy?

4. I was once in a bar fight. Okay, not one of my finer moments. And I blush with shame when I think of it. But in my younger, wilder days, when I had no sense and a very short fuse (okay and there was a lot of alcohol involved), I got into a fit outside a bar. Funny thing is, I mouthed off to a couple arguing in the parking lot about making a scene in public.

5. I have a pair of boots signed by George Strait BEFORE he became famous. Well, the boots aren’t George’s, though I would have loved to have had him in a situation where he was bootless—preferably they’d have been under my bed. The boots are mine. I handed them to George at a bar he played at in my hometown. My daughters want the boots to wear (they’re back in style). My son wants to sell them. I have been known to threaten broken fingers for touching them.

6. It took me 4.5 hours to ski down a mountain because I’m afraid of heights. OMG, this is so true. It was my first and last attempt to snow ski. My dh (only my bf at the time) and I went skiing with some of his friends. I took lessons the day before but the altitude made me sick so I didn’t finish. The next day, one of the “friends” suggested a slope. A freakin’ Blue Diamond!!! It was so steep—not to mention HIGH—that I cursed and cried and slid all the way down that stupid mountain on my ass. My dh was so patient with me. In fact, the next night he proposed.

7. I was once a runway model. Yeah, okay, so I was six. My mom worked for Sears and they wanted family members of employees to model their clothing. All I remember is walking the runway in a yellow dress.

8. I won a kissing contest. Ugh, another embarrassing moment. Some friends and I were at a local festival where they wear badges that read “Kiss Me, I’m Czech.” Well, if you’re not Czech, you wear the one that reads “Kiss Me, I’m Ready.” (btw, you do know I write erotic romance, don’t you?) Anyway, the girls and I had a little contest to see who could kiss the most guys. I won and that’s all the info you’re getting!

And now you know way too much about me!

So without further disclosure, I’ll introduce the winner of the contest! Oh, and to make it fun, I’m giving away two prizes. One drawn from those who guessed the lie. And one from everyone who commented.

Winner 1: Rasha

Winner 2: Wanda

Please email me at darah@darahlace.com to let me know which book you’d like and in what format.

Thanks for playing!

White-Hot and Hard by Catherine Chernow

2010-08-13T06:00:00.001-05:00

White-Hot and Hard
by Catherine Chernow

Sensual. Seductive. Sculptures so erotic they become a white-hot feast for the eyes.

That’s what New York art promoter Sloan Benton sees the day she discovers the talent of sculptor, Dallen O’Neal. Dallen’s outrageous style gives Sloan a burning desire to learn more about him and the secret medium he’s using. He’s the sexiest, hottest, most dominant man she’s ever met and the best new talent in town, but she realizes too late that he’s also a painful forgotten memory from her past.

Dallen O’Neal wants revenge. Sloan Benton crushed his artistic spirit. He couldn’t sculpt anything for years after her cruelty, but his desire for her never waned. When she accepts the invitation to view his work, then his challenge to strip naked for art’s sake, he discovers Sloan’s submissive side. They share wild sex, including Sloan’s penchant for a spanking. Sloan captures his heart, but he thrusts her aside, intent on vengeance.

Jealousy, sex, submission and a hint of exhibitionism mingle together, making Dallen’s need for Sloan…

Excerpt:

Sloan ran her hands over the mound of cream between the woman’s legs. It felt hard, smooth, looked wickedly real.

“Have you guessed what I used?”

Dallen stood off to the side, watching her. From the corner of her eye, she noticed his dark gaze followed her every move.

She lifted her chin, hoping to quell the racing beat of her heart. Dallen O’Neal was a devastatingly gorgeous man. She longed to feel the sinewy lines of his body, felt captivated by his jet-black hair. His blue eyes shone, setting off the shadow of a beard lining his angular jaw.

Her pussy throbbed. Damn, she wasn’t here for a roll in the sack with a tall, dark, sexy guy, she was here to work and gain a new client.

She wanted Dallen, badly.

Um…as a client.

Yeah, right.

He was dressed in black from head to toe, the severe color emphasizing his height and muscled body. She wasn’t a short woman, but she got the feeling her head would barely reach his shoulder.

He certainly knew how to draw a crowd.

“So, are you going to tell me?”

He moved closer, so close she could smell him. A heady, musky, lemony fragrance drifted by her nose.

“Tell you what?” she managed.

She couldn’t remember the question.

He lifted a corner of his mouth. The tiny smile softened his chiseled face then a lock of his dark hair fell across one of his eyes. She had to stop herself from reaching up and brushing it aside.

She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Strange, she was usually so glib, so self-assured.

He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

At the mention of the word “tongue”, she imagined how his would feel. She glanced at the sculpture of the woman’s spread legs. How would Dallen’s tongue feel between her thighs? Would he pass the tip across her swollen pussy?

She shuddered pleasurably.

“Cold?” Dallen lifted a brow.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not.”

No, damn you, I’m burning up!

“Have you figured out the medium I’m using?”

She lifted a hand, intent on running it over the mound of whipped cream.

He placed his warm palm across the back of her hand. The contact of his skin against hers sent a zing down her back. It snaked its way to the top of her asscheeks, settling in the cleft between them.

How would it feel to have his large, warm palm there?

Fool! Concentrate. Answer his question already.

She shook her head, her fingers caressing the sculpture.

He whispered near her ear. “I usually don’t let anyone touch my sculptures.” He lifted her hand and placed it against the sculpted cunt.

Sloan touched the folds of flesh lining the vagina, her finger sliding across the small, rounded button nestled between those folds.

As if she stroked her own pussy.

“Feels real, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice low.

Embarrassed that she’d let herself get so lost in his art, she tried to pull her hand away. He held it there.

“I’m not sure what medium you’re using.” She turned to face him, schooling her features, not wanting to let him know how he and his work affected her.

“Stick around and find out.”

He removed his hand, folding his arms across his chest. She missed the feel of his skin on hers, felt bereft at the loss of contact.

“I will.” She lifted her chin, hoping she sounded confident.

Dallen O’Neal was keeping her off balance, doing the unexpected.

Like his art.

He smiled. She wished he wouldn’t, because it did strange things to her pussy. It made it beat in time with her heart. Her clit ached for release. Her breasts felt heavy.

Sloan looked around. “You have a lot of visitors today.”

“You can only hope half will respond to an invitation, and that half of those will attend.”

Sloan saw a man walk through the door. Her eyes widened. “That’s the art critic from the Times.”

“So it is.”

She grabbed Dallen’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go talk to him.”

“I have something else planned right now.” He squeezed her fingers, his grip firm yet gentle, but he didn’t budge.

She lowered her voice. “You don’t snub the art critic from the Times.”

A strange look passed over his face when she said the word “snub”. He appeared lost in thought.

He spoke, his voice giving rise to anger simmering below the surface of his words.

“I have no intention of ignoring anyone, however, I can sell myself and my work. I don’t need him.” He angled his head. “Or you.”

Sloan felt her temper soar. “Then why did you invite me?”

“Perhaps I was curious.” He gave a casual shrug of his powerful shoulders. “I wanted to see if you’d come.”

“Maybe you don’t need me or my services.”

He smiled when she uttered the word “services”.

“But you’d be surprised how much you will need Griffin Thomas’ help.”

His arrogance made her want to stamp her foot in frustration. She lifted it, intent on doing just that.

His eyes met hers. His held challenge. She got the strangest feeling that if she did stomp the floor he’d retaliate. This time, her curiosity as well as her body became aroused at the thought of what he might do.

A tiny part of her wanted to experience the consequence.

She placed her foot on the floor, choosing to keep it there. “Artists are all cut from the same mold.”

“A clever statement, from a very clever woman.” He bowed his head slightly.

She couldn’t tell if he joked with her or if sarcasm was behind his acerbic tone.

“And just how are all we artists the same?” he asked.

“You have huge…” Her eyes swept over his groin. “Egos.”

She swallowed back desire, and something else, a bit of fear. Of what she wasn’t sure.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. “So you’ve noticed.”

She didn’t know if she wanted to smack him or reach down and squeeze his “ego”.

He walked away, his swagger confident. Just when she thought he would ignore Griffin, he switched tracks, reaching out to shake the critic’s hand. She couldn’t hear what they said but it seemed as though Griffin was pleased.

She exhaled, her sigh filled with relief.

Why should she care? She glanced around Dallen’s studio, her eyes settling on his sculptures.

He was damn good, that’s why. It was imperative that she care before someone else did. Miles was right, she needed fresh, new talent to pander…

And all the money that came with it.

She’d be damned if she’d touch the trust fund her father had left her. She had done all right these last few years, although the sagging economy made her rethink dipping into her inheritance.

Promoting a client as talented as Dallen O’Neal would enable her to continue to lead her current, comfortable lifestyle.

She heard raised voices coming from the other side of the room.

Dallen focused his attention on a group of young women gathered off to the side, near some nude statues.

It rankled to see him with those other women.

One minute he was paying her so much attention she felt as if she were the only person in his studio and the next, his shitty, cocky attitude made her so angry she wanted to scream.

Damn, her pussy still throbbed.

She should just leave, walk right out the door and never look back, but the sight of the nude figures made her body melt, desire pooling between her thighs. Trying not to be obvious about her arousal, or how much it was fired by not only the art but the artist, her eyes drifted to the sculpted figures again.

Dallen O’Neal was one dangerous man…and so was his art.

4 Blue Ribbons for Saddle Broke!

2010-08-04T22:20:00.000-05:00

Woohoo! I just found out Saddle Broke

received 4 Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies!

"Hold on to your hats, because SADDLE BROKE is hot enough to start a fire."

Thanks Natalie!

Click here to read more!

Bachelor Auction on the Coming Soon Page!

2010-08-02T14:38:00.000-05:00

Squee! Check it out!

Bachelor Auction

is on the coming soon page at

The Wild Rose Press!

Only one more month to wait!

Available Sept. 3, 2010!

Summer Of The Cougar by Nicole Austin

2010-07-30T06:00:00.004-05:00

Summer Of The Cougar

by Nicole Austin

Ellora's Cave

A standalone title in the Cougar Challenge series.

With the big four-oh looming, Larissa Cross is more than ready to shed the roles that have defined her and make drastic changes. Gone are the widowed Army wife, soccer mom and empty nester. She’s even setting aside the school teacher until fall.

A naughty challenge issued by fellow erotic romance booklovers on their blog, Tempt the Cougar, has come at the perfect time and ignited Rissa’s competitive drive. It’s going to be a glorious summer full of hot younger man lovin’ for a new cougar on the prowl. Rawr!

Tattooed and pierced fireman JD Harmon is tempting prey but there’s much more to the hunk than his bad boy good looks. A one-night stand isn’t in his plans and sex—no matter how mind-blowing—won’t distract him from his goals. JD intends to tame the wicked cougar and stake a claim on her heart.

Excerpt:

The spicy scent of chorizo and onions grilling in the skillet had her stomach growling. She scrambled in some eggs and raisins then the completed dish went into the warm oven along with a plate of fresh tortillas. Earlier she’d made salsa and set the table. But she was hungry for more than food. Rissa had every intention of getting JD on the menu.

She headed for her laptop to check email when someone knocked on the door. Glancing at the clock she noted how fast he’d made the drive. She started talking as she opened the door. “Wow, you made good ti—”

The sight of JD waiting on her doorstep, smiling at her broadly, had the words dying in her dry throat as Rissa nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d imagined how he’d look out of the uniform. Her imagination had nothing on reality.

Washed so many times the material was nearly threadbare, his blue T-shirt bore the fire department emblem and lovingly conformed to his chiseled torso. Intricate lines of a black tattoo that accentuated his huge biceps disappeared under his left sleeve. She longed to trace all those twisting, twirling lines with the tip of her tongue, and contemplated how much skin they covered.

He’d tucked the shirt into a faded pair of low-riding shorts that failed to disguise the thick bulge that extended all the way to his left hip. Saliva flooded her mouth and she wondered how he’d taste. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy, and with each ragged breath her rock-hard nipples rasped against her top. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Rissa realized more than her mouth had gotten wet.

“Damn, honey. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

He lifted his right hand and held out a red fire extinguisher bearing a festive streamer of multi-colored ribbons. How had she failed to notice the large red cylinder dangling from his fist? “I brought you a present.”

“Um…thanks.” Rather unique gift.

“When you get another car, I want you to put that in the trunk so I’ll know you’re safe.”

Awww!

The sweet gesture left her speechless. For several long moments she stared into his dark eyes. Reflected in their depths she saw the potential for a future. A long-lasting relationship.

Rissa shook her head to dispel the rather disturbing idea. She wanted to live, have fun, sample all the different flavors she’d never tasted—not tie herself to one man. No matter how sweet and sexy and thoughtful he may be.

Breakfast. They were supposed to be having breakfast.

“Come on in.” Stepping back from the door, she allowed him to enter her home. Not sure what else to do with it, she put his gift in the hall closet. Turning back toward him she said, “I hope you’re hungry. I cooked—”

The breath rushed from her lungs as her back came up against the wall. Warmth and JD’s masculine scent enveloped her as his hard body fitted against her soft curves. It was a glorious fit. His body caged hers and his fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place.

“I’m starved.” His voice rumbled close to her ear. “For you.” Then his lips, soft yet firm, brushed along her jaw, moving slowly toward her mouth. She could have ducked or turned her head away. Longing for his kiss, she did neither. At the first touch of his lips to hers, Rissa spontaneously combusted. Fire raced across her skin and her blood turned to molten lava. From head to toe she burned and her toes curled into the carpet.

Dios, she might need that fire extinguisher to put out the flames.

He claimed her mouth in a scorching hot kiss and her lips opened wide, inviting him inside. JD accepted her summons. His tongue thrust into her mouth, slid against hers and she moaned as his bold and sweet taste washed over her like warm, delicious honey. Without conscious thought, her arms wrapped around his neck and she clung to him.

JD took over, exploring her mouth with his tongue, drinking down her needy moans and whimpers. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and everywhere they touched, from shoulder to knee, his body heat left a wake of desire licking at her skin.

She had never been so thoroughly and completely kissed. And if the shudders that shook his body were any indication, she wasn’t alone. Their kiss had the same potent effect on him.

The heady mating of their mouths ended way too soon. Resting his forehead against hers, JD stared into her eyes as they both struggled to find solid footing. Her body hummed with desire, aching and ready for more. She wanted so much more.

“Damn, baby,” he panted. “You’re burning me alive.”

Burning him? He’s the one who started the inferno. He damn well needed to do something other than stare at her. Preferably something involving the long, thick erection that had left its impression branded over her abdomen.

“Now that we have the first kiss out of the way, we can relax and enjoy breakfast.”

My Three Lords by Juniper Bell

2010-07-28T05:00:00.003-05:00

My Three Lords
by Juniper Bell

How is one innocent country girl to choose between a Duke, a Marquis and an Earl? Must she?

When Miss Alicia Silverwood marries the Earl of Dorchester, he whisks her off to Notre Plaisir, a country manor where erotic surprises await in the company of three powerful lords.

The young Earl needs a wife and heir. The cynical Marquis de Beaumont needs a playmate. And the commanding Duke of Warrington needs a reason to live. As for the new Lady Dorchester, she’s about to discover the true nature of her own sensual needs. On top of that, she’s falling in love.

It might take a miracle for Lady Alicia and her three lords to come to an arrangement that makes them all happy. Or perhaps all that’s required is a little scandalous rule-breaking.

Reader Advisory: Contains an m/m/f/m ménage with brief m/m sex, as well as a deflowering and much sweet loving.

Excerpt:

Copyright © JUNIPER BELL, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“I make you two promises, Alicia. The first is that I shall not take your maidenhead. Only one man may do so, and that is your husband. The second is that tonight you will experience more pleasure than you’ve ever imagined, thanks to me. If the Earl were here tonight, you’d receive no gentle caresses, no stroking such as I intend to give you. Your nipples would be left untouched, save for a rough tweak or two. Whereas I intend to savor their sweetness and watch them stand to attention like pink sentinels of your desire.”

Pinned as if I were a helpless butterfly, I lost myself in the soothing cadence of his speech. I became aware of the heat and strength of his body, and an unfamiliar tingling in my belly.

“You may think you prefer the Earl, but you’d regret it deeply. Your deflowering would be painful rather than pleasurable. Harsh rather than sweet. Such an event in a young girl’s life should bring tears of joy along with the tears of pain. That is what I offer, and the Earl, cognizant of your best interests as well as his own, has allowed me to provide this service. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and when he didn’t respond, whispered, “Yes.”

“Then come. Rise now.”

The weight lifted off me and he helped me to my feet. When I stood facing him, I saw a look such as I’d never seen on his jaded face before. He looked almost tender. Slowly, gently, he traced the skin along the edge of my loosened stays. I felt a prickling in the tips of my breasts. When I looked down at myself, my nipples were just as he said, pink and standing up under the layers of undergarments. He hooked his finger in the busk between my breasts. My breath caught.

“I won’t proceed further unless I have your full consent. Despite my reputation, I am not in the habit of forcing my attentions on unwilling girls. I must know that you accept what I’m offering you, fully and completely.”

His black gaze seared into me, as if he could see all the hidden corners of my soul. And perhaps he could, because God help me, I wanted the things he’d promised, and more. I wanted to lie down on the bed and roll myself in the bedclothes, or strip off my chemise and run outside under the stars. I didn’t fully understand what was happening to me. My body felt heavy and yet light at the same time.

“I do,” I whispered. “I accept.”

His eyes glittered in the candlelight. I felt dizzy. For a moment, I was back in the barn at home, caught with a goatherd’s hand hovering over my breast. I’d looked up in alarm at the sound of soft laughter. The sight of the Marquis’ delighted, mocking smile had turned me to stone.

There had been another feeling as well, a charge in the air that had made my skin prickle.

I felt it again as his eyes deliberately consumed my body, top to toe. Under my eyelashes, I performed an inspection of my own. The Marquis was not a bad-looking man, slender of build, perhaps a head taller than myself. As always, he was dressed in the height of fashion, with an embroidered cream waistcoat and a splendid coat of dark blue superfine that fit him to perfection. He always appeared to be mocking the world around him, but over the years I had on occasion seen him perform small kindnesses that surprised me.

“There has always been a special feeling between us, has there not?” As he spoke, he deftly removed my stays until I stood in nothing more than my chemise. I shivered at his nearness. Not for the first time, I thought what a powerful man he was, not in physique but in presence…a powerful man inclined to darkness.

He picked up a candle and slowly walked around me, shining its light on my body. The warmth from the candle paled in comparison to the penetrating weight of his gaze. I fixed my eyes on the pretty dressing table on the far side of the room. I counted five silver-backed brushes and considered attempting to count the individual bristles to distract myself from the strange feelings stealing over me.

A gentle touch on my posterior made me start. His hand cupped my bottom and warmth flooded my being. How could such a simple touch create such an uproar within me? With a firm hand and wandering fingers, he stroked my flesh. I felt the back of my chemise inch up my legs. The feel of his fingertips roaming across the backs of my thighs was so exquisite, I closed my eyes so the pleasure would continue.

“Ah no, my dear, you are not allowed to close your eyes. I want you to fully comprehend that it is I, the dreaded Marquis de Beaumont, who is bringing you this enjoyment. Whose hands are now stroking your tender buttocks?”

Tendrils of fire seemed to spread across my bottom as he quickened his touch. “Yours,” I gasped.

“And who intends to remove this interfering chemise from your body?”

My throat became suddenly parched. If he removed my chemise, I would be naked before the most notorious rake in England. “You,” I whispered. “But, please…”

“Yes?” His fingers danced up the curve of my spine and my belly seemed to quiver in response. Cool air caressed my back as he drew up the chemise. “Ah, so lovely. I’ve waited a very long time for this moment.”

I clutched the front of it to my chest. My head was such a confusing swarm of thoughts, I didn’t know what I wanted to say. Please continue. Stop this instant. The two opposite impulses battled in my mind. “Why me?” I managed. “Why a long time?”

“Why you?” My question did not make him pause in his intrusions on my body. Every inch of exposed skin drew a caress or a pat from his relentless, curious, knowing hands. Every touch sent a cascade of shivers across my flesh. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but you first caught my eye as a girl dashing after your brothers. You ran directly into me, like a Spanish bull into a cape. I have been accustomed to find myself a figure of fright for young girls. But you seemed to have no fear of me. I plucked you off the ground and held you high. You looked back at me with those frank eyes of yours, whose color I find no words for, somewhere in the mysterious realm between gray and blue, and you said, quite simply, “You were directly in my path. You will please to put me down now.” And so I did, and watched, bemused, as you raced away to join your brothers. At that moment I knew you were an unusual girl.”

By this time he was in front of me, loosing my hands from their grip on my chemise. I looked up at him and found myself surprised by a hint of softness in his usually sharp eyes.

“This chemise,” he told me softly, “can hide nothing from me. I know your soul, ma chérie, perhaps better than you do yourself. You desire things you cannot name. You sense it in the springtime air, the moonlight over a stream, the scent of lilacs in the sunshine. The world promises you something just beyond your senses, something you cannot grasp, simply because you don’t yet know how. I will show you how, my dear.”

What She Needs by Cris Anson

2010-07-21T06:00:00.000-05:00

What She Needs
by Cris Anson
Ellora's Cave

Older widow Delia Barnes greets fellow authors before an erotic romance convention sporting a black eye, which she explains away with “I didn’t say ‘Yes Master’ quick enough.” Sitting at the bar, burned-out ad executive and former Dom Kurt Reinhardt overhears that comment once too often and interrupts to suggest, “Maybe you need a new Master.”

Urged by her friends to accept the younger man’s invitation to learn some D/s basics—hey, an author needs to do her research, right?—Delia joins him to get first-hand experience at being submissive, starting with removing her panties in a corner booth. Later, she learns more than she bargained for when she spends a weekend at Kurt’s home with his eager business partner added to the mix.

But an innocent misstep brings Delia’s world crashing down around her. Can she trust Kurt with her heart…and her life?

Reader Advisory: Delia gets up close and personal with a delectable m/f/m ménage.

Excerpt:

“A woman could get spoiled very quickly here.”

He moved in close, kissed her temple. “Exactly what I had in mind.”

His scent, an exotic spice—applewood smoke and fresh air—intoxicated her. “Kurt…”

“I know. I can’t wait another second.” He lifted the glass from her nerveless fingers and set it as well as his own on a side table. His thumbs caressed her cheeks as his fingers tunneled through her hair. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a whole week now.”

“Kurt,” she repeated, her ability to string two words together suddenly deserting her.

They were almost of a height with her three-inch black pumps and his bare feet. His gaze bored deeply into hers, and it felt as if he were staring into her soul, searching for her most profound yearnings. The intimate penetration caused her lower lip to tremble. His eyes snapped to the subtle movement and he moved those last few millimeters between them and touched his mouth to hers.

Tiny explosions detonated around her lips and she softened, opened to his touch. His tongue took instant advantage, exploring the perimeter then stroking over hers, thrusting and sucking in turn until she was wild to feel him aligned against her. Yet he held himself apart, nothing touching except their lips, and his hands in her hair.

So Delia took the initiative. She snaked her arms around Kurt’s waist and arched her back, rubbing against him, thighs to thighs, hips to hips, silently berating her lack of foresight in not removing her suit jacket when she’d handed him her car coat. She wanted to feel his chest against her breasts, skin against skin. Heat bloomed inside her, seeking an answering heat. After all the phone sex she was primed for the real thing. His kisses, the solid reality of his body against hers, were dangerous to her sanity.

“Delia.” Kurt’s voice was ragged, his erection pressing hard against her as he took her upper arms in his grip and gently disengaged their bodies.

“We have all weekend,” he continued smoothly, apparently having regained his control. “I will teach you that a little anticipation, a little withholding of ecstasy, can be most rewarding.”

She couldn’t suppress a delectable shiver at the thought. Her only worry was what his reaction would be when he saw her body with its more than four decades of wear and tear. Not that she lacked self-confidence. She had it to spare. But this was entirely new territory for her.

“You’re cold,” he said. “I’m a terrible host. Here, let’s get you into the Jacuzzi. I’ve set it at ninety-nine degrees. Did you bring a swimsuit? Or would you be comfortable lolling around in your birthday suit?”

Delia blinked. This was the moment of truth. Was she a cougar or not? Did she want sex with this man or not?

Go for it! She could hear Judith urging her to grab the brass ring. Still, he was the first man she’d kissed—and what a toe-curling kiss it was!—since Robert died four years ago, and no one else had seen her naked in twenty-two years.

“Delia. Your Master is asking you to remove your jacket and skirt. Will you do that for me?”

Yes. That’s what she needed, to have the decision taken from her after all the myriad decisions she’d made at the office. And that’s why, she reminded herself, she’d removed her prim white blouse just before leaving said office. She had to take a deep breath for this. Yes, she’d dressed for seduction, but actually doing it took all the nerve she could muster.

Slowly she undid the three fabric-covered buttons from her gray faux-suede jacket and slid it off her shoulders, revealing a silky, cobalt blue bra that molded her B cups perfectly to create a gentle cleavage. His eyes flared but he said nothing as he reached out a hand for the garment. She draped it over his arm.

“Now the skirt.”

She could do this, no sweat. Just think how all the other cougars would handle it. Undo button. Slide zipper down. Wiggle hips to let the skirt slither down her legs.

He inhaled a harsh breath.

A part of her rejoiced that she could elicit such a reaction from him at the sight of her. Thigh-high sheer gray stockings rode her long legs. Bikini panties, matching the bra, barely covered her scar.

Reaching out a hand to him for stability, she lifted one leg to remove a black stiletto.

“No. Not yet.”

Seeing the lust on his face made her spine straighten and gave her a much-needed shot of courage.

“Step out of the puddle of your skirt, take it to that chair in the corner and set it down. Then come back, walking slowly.”

Was that a wobble in his voice? Perhaps he wasn’t as unaffected as he portrayed.

As she followed his instructions, she couldn’t help but notice the involuntary sway of her hips, the catwalk saunter that suddenly felt the right way to walk, to tease Being an exhibitionist was a high she hadn’t expected.

“Sit here. On the edge of the tub.”

She did, lowering herself gracefully.

He knelt before her, lifted her left leg and slid her shoe off. Began to massage her foot, gently kneading her sole, the arch, each individual toe. Delia closed her eyes in bliss. His fingers strayed higher, to her calf, the back of her knee, the outer muscles of her thigh.

“Let’s get this off, shall we?”

Her eyes snapped open. He tugged at the elasticized lace garter, rolled the stocking down to her ankle. Then set his lips on the indentations of her skin where the elastic had constricted her all day. He licked and nipped, skimmed his fingertips across her mound as he massaged the skin.

The sight of his black-haired head so near her crotch sent a shock of cream drizzling through her pussy lips to dampen her panties.

“Don’t move, Delia.”

She didn’t even realize she had shifted her hips to bring his mouth closer to the spot between her legs that throbbed so heatedly.

After a few delicious minutes of torture, he moved to her right leg and performed the same combination of magic and teasing. Delia felt her breathing go shallow. He’d spread her legs and knelt between them. He couldn’t not smell her arousal, so close to the source was he.

“Delia. Delicious Delia. You smell of ambrosia.” Kurt’s fingers delved beneath the elastic of her cobalt panties, one hand on each side, and he slowly slid them toward each other. Hesitated. Continued until both index fingers met at the juncture that hid her clit.

“Bare. I like bare. Thank you, Delia, for that gift.” His fingers stroked abstract designs on the sensitive skin surrounding her nether lips, and Delia was glad she’d acted on a whim and shaved all of it, not just her bikini line.

Kurt dipped his head then, stroked her through her panties with firm pressure of his tongue. Delia almost jumped, but his grip on her thighs reminded her not to move. Such delicious torture, his mouth sucking, tongue delving, fingers probing, and she unable to flex her hips for more. She gripped the crown of the tub as she felt her muscles tense, her insides clench. Oh god, it felt so good, it had been so long, she was going to—

He leaned back, still on his knees. “Stand up.”

Deep In The Woods by Annabel Joseph

2010-07-16T06:00:00.001-05:00

Deep In The Woods
by Annabel Joseph
Ellora's Cave

Sophie finally finds the courage to re-enter the Atlanta BDSM scene after extricating herself from an abusive relationship. At a local munch, she meets Dave, a funny, laid-back erotic photographer who’s new in town. When she sees him again later at the dungeon, Sophie is surprised by her strong feelings for him. Although she’s nervous about starting a new relationship, Dave takes her home and eases her fears. They embark on a sexy, thrilling D/s relationship and Sophie finds healing and fulfillment in Dave’s arms.

But Sophie is haunted by nightmares of her past. On a dark night in the woods with Dave and his friend Ryan, frightening memories overtake Sophie. She knows she must uncover the tragedy that haunts her subconscious to move on. Her quest for answers brings her face-to-face with her old tormentor, and Sophie finds herself not just fighting for answers, but for her life. Will Sophie ever make it out of the woods and find the peace she seeks?

Note: Contains m/f/m ménage scenes and brief but graphic violence.

Excerpt:

He placed a fingertip against her lips. “I’m not assuming anything. I am telling you that if I kiss you…if I touch you tonight the way I want to…”

The way he was staring at her made it impossible to concentrate on his words. Her eyes dropped to his lips, full and sensual. His bottom lip was perfection, something to lick and nibble. Before she could stop herself, she drew her tongue across her own lips. His hand cupped her chin and his gaze forced her to focus. “Listen to me. If I kiss you… Sophie…” He leaned forward and she parted her lips with a sigh.

The moment his lips touched hers, she felt relief. She felt a peace that had eluded her for months, perhaps years. He held her face in his hands as his mouth possessed hers. The kiss quickly intensified and his tongue pushed into her mouth. He moved closer. His hands grasped her shoulders, then ran down her arms to pull her against his chest. The entire time, his lips never left hers. He tasted her eagerly, and his kiss was demanding. She felt possessed, challenged. He could master her and she knew it. He was letting her know he could master her if that was her desire.

Oh god. One hand moved up her back to twist in her hair. He pulled hard, sending thrills of stinging pain down the back of her neck and around to her flushed face. She arched her spine and moaned against his lips. It was not in her nature to beg, although she wanted to at that moment. She wanted to plead for what she wished. She wanted to prostrate herself before him. She wanted to surrender to the intensity and fire of his touch. His touch, his touch…his fingertips were trailing back down her arms, then to the hem of her dress. She broke away and looked around. The light. Not in the light. She pushed at his hand and he stopped and pulled back.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…can’t we…the light is so bright and…and your dog is staring at me. It’s kind of freaking me out. Can’t we…? I’m sorry…”

“Turn out the lights?”

She blushed, feeling like an idiot. “Can we please?”

“I would like to see you, Sophie. Your lovely body. Your beautiful eyes.”

She bit her lip, hating this moment, hating everything about it. She could run. She could just run out the door and… No. She didn’t want to run. But she couldn’t show her body to him, not at this moment. Later. She would deal with it later. And if he rejected her when he saw the scars, at least then she would have had one night to be with him.

“Please, Dave. I’m just shy. It’s been so long and…” She looked over at Cerby again, who was helping her case by gawking at them from a couple feet away. “Your dog is sweet but—”

“You’re telling me you’re embarrassed to get naked in front of my dog.”

“Yes.” Yes, and please believe me. Please just go along with this.

Dave sighed. “That’s really the problem? It’s not that you don’t want to get intimate tonight? Because hey, we just met. I’m fine with waiting. Really, Sophie, I am.”

Nooooo. “No, I want to. I’m just… I’m weird that way.” I’m weird. I’m weird. Don’t make me show you just how weird I am. “Maybe…maybe the first time would be better in the dark. So we can really feel each other. You know?”

He nodded, his fingers caressing her hip. “Depend on our other senses?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Well, you realize I’m a photographer, that I’m very visual. We can always shut Cerby out of the bedroom. In fact, it would probably be a good idea.”

“I guess. I mean, we could. But something about me is that I really… I really like the dark. I really, really like darkness, especially when I’m feeling…”

“Scared?” he supplied when her voice got too tight to continue. “Are you feeling scared right now, Sophie?”

“Nervous,” she whispered. “Because I really want to be with you.”

He looked down at her trembling hands and then back at her face, and something in her expression must have caused him to relent.

“Okay. Only because the first time is always slightly scary. My bedroom is really dark with the lights off, you’ll like it. We can get to know each other by touch alone.”

* * * * *

Dave was fairly sure she wanted sex. He had scrutinized her, analyzed every signal. She was obviously aroused. Her cheeks were flushed and her body language was open and willing. He was ninety-nine percent sure she wanted sex.

And he was one hundred percent sure she wanted it in the dark.

Well, it would be a new and novel experience for him, sex in the dark. He liked girls under 500 watt photography lights. He liked to see everything, every mole, every muscle, every secret place. He liked to expose girls. He liked to make them see there was nothing they could hide.

But this one, she clearly needed to hide, at least for now. She would need to be introduced gradually to his particular brand of exposure. He would train her to it.

Now was not the time.

Her hand trembled as he led her into his bedroom and shut Cerberus out. He ignored the dog’s indignant whine. Cerb was never allowed in when Dave was with girls, because he sometimes took umbrage when Dave played rough. His canine instincts, while finely honed, could not always differentiate between moans of pleasure and pain. The first time the dog had nipped at Dave to stop him from “hurting” his partner, Dave had understood and hadn’t censured him. But for safety, he locked Cerb out now every time.

“There, no more staring dog,” he said, turning to Sophie with a grin. She returned his smile and looked around his bedroom. It wasn’t huge, but it didn’t need to be. He let her see it in the light, gave her a moment to look around. He watched her take in the king-size bed that took up the lion’s share of the space. And yes, the photography lights rigged in the corner. Cerberus’ dog bed, completely unused of course, took up another entire corner. A door on the right wall led to a bathroom. He went in to get some condoms, showing them to Sophie before he placed them on the bedside table.

“If we need them they’ll be there. We can do as much or as little as you like. I mean that, no pressure. I actually didn’t ask you here expecting you to fuck me.”

She looked away and then back at him, blushing. “I didn’t really come here to fuck you. But to be totally honest, there’s nothing in the world I want more right now.”

“To be totally honest, I hoped to God you would say those exact words.”

She giggled. She was so sweet, so beautiful. He thought of the terrible things he’d learned about her last relationship, and wondered how anyone could harm someone like her. He took her in his arms, his hands sliding around her slender waist to rest at the small of her back. He kissed her, reveling in the soft, tentative way she gave herself to him. He drew away to take one last look at her eyes before he turned out the lights. He saw so many things there in that luminous violet gaze. A jumble of emotions—fear, excitement, lust, happiness, sadness. He traced his thumbs over her delicate eyelids before dropping a kiss on each soft surface. Her long black eyelashes fluttered. Beautiful lost princess. Snow White in the forest.

“Sophie, you can trust me. I promise you can.”

“Okay.” Her voice trembled a little.

He turned out the lights and they both stood still. Darkness. It was true and total darkness. There was no moon to cast even soft light, just black empty space. No, not empty. He could feel her there beside him like a magnet. Elemental pull. His hands went to her of their own accord, drawn to her soft skin, her womanly curves. His fingers traced over her shoulders to grope for a zipper at the back of her neck and she bowed her head toward him. He felt her forehead come to rest against his chest. In the black darkness all his other senses were heightened. He could smell her fresh, flowery scent and feel the lightest brush of soft hair against the side of his chin.

He drew the zipper down and opened his hands on the skin of her back. His fingers nudged the dress down and off. He could barely make out the outline of the black bra against her pale skin as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He reached for the clasp and undid it. She didn’t stop him, but he could feel she was tense. He stroked his fingers across her breasts, then cupped their weight. As the pads of his thumbs teased the taut peaks, he was finally rewarded with a shivery moan and the feel of her relaxing against him.

He skimmed her tights down over her hips, taking a moment to explore her curvy ass with his palms. No panties, just bare, smooth skin. It was impossible for him not to give her a couple tentative slaps. She gasped and pressed herself closer, reaching for him in the darkness. Her hands seemed at a loss for what to do, fluttering against him like lost birds. He took them hard and whispered, “Put them behind your back. Keep them there.”

That seemed to settle her. She did as he asked and stood still, her breathing even and measured. He took a few more moments to explore her exquisite ass cheeks, landing a few more smacks. Then he resumed pushing her tights all the way down her legs, his fingers tracing down thighs, knees, calves, ankles. Going by feel in the dark only made him appreciate the exquisite sensations more. He breathed in the faint scent of her arousal. Without thought, he used his thumb to probe the folds of her mons, finding hot slickness. She gave a low moan as he slid the pad of his thumb against her clit and then pressed and teased the sensitive nub. She reached for his shoulders and made a small hip movement forward.

“Hands,” he reminded her. Her hands left him and returned to the position he’d told her, but not before she sighed, “Oh, Dave…”

“Go get in bed.” He turned her in the right direction, guiding her with firm hands on her shoulders, then set to tearing off his own clothes, letting them fall in a heap at his feet. He slid in beside her, finding her by touch and scent. He clasped her, aligning her body to his. He trapped her hands behind her and found her lips in the dark.

God, she tasted wonderful, sweet. The way she kissed drove him mad, alternately tentative and eager. His cock poked against the front of her and she arched her hips forward in response. Dave was bursting. He had to be inside her. He explored her full breasts and hard nipples, then stroked down her thighs and parted her again. She was so wet. She moaned almost inaudibly as his fingers smoothed across her slick center. He wished he could see her eyes.

“Do you like when I touch you, Sophie?”

She sighed in reply.

“Yes or no?” he prompted. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” The word came out as a gasp.

Magenta Starling by Natalie Dae

2010-07-12T10:07:00.000-05:00

Magenta Starling

by Natalie Dae

Cursed at birth, Dion is a demon who has searched for his beloved for centuries. Upon meeting Morgan, he knows she’s the one he’s been waiting for, the one woman he can love forever, the one woman capable of helping him break the curse. However, Jistin, the curse-giver, has other ideas…

Morgan longs for a relationship and release from her solitary life aboard her yacht, The Magenta Starling. She longs for Dion—who’s not all that he appears. When he reveals his feelings for her, Morgan allows Dion to take her to his world, the realm of Thradmos. Her love for him growing even as she struggles to accept his reality, Morgan realizes she would do anything for him—including give up her life in the real world.

At a party held in celebration of Dion’s impending freedom, Morgan is snatched away by Jistin. In a final battle, Dion will fight not only for his freedom, but also that of his beloved, lest he be cursed for all eternity…and lose Morgan in the process.

Excerpt:

At anchor in the deepest part of the bay, Morgan’s large yacht, The Magenta Starling, bobbed intermittently on languid evening waves. Morgan stood on deck, leaned on the prow rail and took in the lit shoreline, a pitch sky the backdrop to golden lights. The ocean crept up the beach as though unsure of its welcome, yet retreated just as slowly. Music filtered from the bars and clubs, a cacophony of mingled beats, unrecognizable as any individual tune. A carnival atmosphere raged ashore, the same as every other summer night—nothing unusual for this part of the world, where holidaymakers partied hard and spent their cash fluidly.

Morgan smiled. If only they knew what their cash could buy here.

A taxi-boat chugged toward her yacht, the tall floodlights illuminating white foam in the smaller vessel’s wake. Morgan made out two occupants—the captain and her client. He’d telephoned earlier and requested an evening appointment, but she’d been fully booked this sultry Friday. As soon as the call had ended, her cell rang again—her last evening client cancelling. She’d contemplated another night alone before a rush of abandonment gripped her. She’d contacted Dion and informed him of the free slot.

Now she released a harsh laugh at the pun. She hadn’t been filled in a long time. Unwilling to give herself to just anyone, she rebuffed any offers from clients wishing to include sex with their spankings. No. She wanted a genuine relationship, not men who visited her for what they couldn’t get at home.

Morgan sighed and ousted the dismal thoughts. Tonight she would once again play a part. The role of a woman in total control. And revel at being in Dion’s company.

The boat drew nearer, so she straightened and smoothed the front of her dress. Unusual for a client to request a little black frock that wasn’t made of rubber, but Dion always did. Still, she wasn’t complaining. Her normal attire would have been hell to work in tonight. The heat still lingered despite the cooler breeze, an almost stubborn refusal to be gone and give respite. She wiggled her toes in strappy black sandals and peered at the boat as it chugged alongside hers with a splutter-chug-burp. The captain waved and smiled, his gap-toothed grin dull in a face tanned deeply by the merciless sun. Dion stood, his back to her, hands in suit trouser pockets. The cut of his jacket appeared expensive, as did that of his blond, wavy hair, and Morgan deduced he’d had it trimmed since she last saw him.

“All right there, missus? I’ll be back at eleven then?” the captain shouted, the engine noise and burble of the ocean from its propeller muffling his words.

“Yes, thank you.” Morgan smiled, though her gaze remained on the man in his boat.

Dion turned in slow motion and revealed his profile, one she had seen in her dreams day and night since he’d first set foot on her yacht. He faced her, his skin bronzed, white shirt open at the neck. Tawny chest hairs peeked through the gap and set her heart racing.

God, I want to fuck him.

He gave a lazy smile and stooped to pick up a picnic basket, his gaze remaining on her. Excitement fluttered in her stomach and she swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat. He walked toward the side of the taxi-boat and Morgan leaned over the rail to relieve him of the basket he held aloft. Though curious as to what lay inside, she stilled her tongue and placed the basket on deck.

Dion turned to the captain. “I will call you later. I may not be ready by eleven.”

His voice, so cultured, reminded her of olden-day gentry. The captain saluted and Morgan frowned. For all Dion knew, she had another client booked after him. But in truth his audacity heightened her desire.

Dion held the rails of her yacht ladder and Morgan stepped back as he hauled himself aboard. His aftershave wafted in the humid air and she inhaled as deeply as she dared without alerting him to what she was doing. Undertones of bergamot and lemon assailed her, images of him naked and at her mercy dancing through her mind. Her cheeks heated and her pussy grew wet. Dion eyed her, his brown eyes harboring…lust?

Morgan swallowed again and clasped her hands in front of her. The taxi-boat sped off back to shore, and she bent down and gripped the basket handle. Dion’s hand covered hers and he lifted the basket between them. Dion’s palm was warm against her fingers and Morgan stared up at him, into eyes that set her clit to throbbing, and wished, wished…

“Good evening, Morgan.”

His smile, a slight tilt of his head and a wink jellied her knees.

Damn him for making me feel like this when I can’t have him!

“Good evening, Dion. What’s in the basket?”

She began to lift the lid but his free hand pushed hers away, their fingers entwining. Heat rushed to her face and she cursed the telltale stain that would surely alert him to how she felt.

“Oh, just a few things.” He uncurled her fingers from the basket handle.

“Things?” She quirked a brow.

“Yes. Shall we?” He motioned to the steps that led below deck. “Or would you rather play outside tonight?”

Her stomach churned and excitement swirled through her. She glanced around—no other boats in sight—and said, “Oh, outside should be fine. Besides, if anyone approaches, we’ll hear their motor.”

“And if anyone watches us through a telescope, we will be none the wiser.”

Morgan stifled a gasp and Dion laughed, loud and hearty, quelling the momentary flare of panic inside her. She shoved the thought of Peeping Toms from her mind and breathed deeply, willing herself to take command. Without her tools, though, she floundered, hands by her sides.

“I’ll need to go down and get—”

“I told you,” he leaned in and whispered beside her mouth, “I’ve brought some things…in the basket.” He kissed her lower lip.

Startled, she jumped back and a high-pitched “Oh!” escaped her. Dion had never crossed the line before, had never kissed her.

Does that mean…?

“Right,” she said on a ragged sigh, heart skipping a beat, legs lust-addled. “Let’s have a look insi—”

“I rather thought we would reverse roles tonight. I want to take charge.”

Ex Appeal by Cari Quinn

2010-07-01T06:00:00.059-05:00

Ex Appeal
by Cari Quinn

After reading Full Disclosure I couldn't wait to read the second book in the Hunk De Jour series, and Ms. Quinn didn't disappoint with Ex Appeal. Jenny and Ty were easy to relate to and root for. And the lengths Jenny goes to in order to get her ex--the delicious Ty--back is hot, hot, hot! I especially melted when Ty displayed his artist talent in a very special way to...well, you'll just have to read Ex Appeal to find out for yourself.

As the webmistress for one of the Northeast’s hottest dating sites, Hunk Du Jour, Jenny Talbot is no stranger to reading the applications of potential clients. But when the latest application that crosses her inbox belongs to Ty Randall, the guy she broke up with a mere twenty-seven days ago, she does a double take. Reading what Ty wants in bed not only gets Jenny hot, it also makes her rethink ending their relationship. All she longed for was a little more spice in the bedroom—okay, a lot more—but he let her go without an argument. Faced with the possibility that Ty may really be moving on, getting her ex back becomes more appealing than ever. But will revealing exactly what she needs allow Jenny to finally experience ultimate pleasure or will she drive away the man she loves for good?

Excerpt:

Ty inhaled deeply. His head swam at the scent that filled his nostrils, an aroma that was all Jenny. His fingers clenched the door frame above his head as he took in the sight of her lying on the bed. Jesus, she was beautiful. Her skin glowed under the track lighting, and her cinnamon nipples protruded straight into the air like an invitation. The pain that had seized him moments ago when he’d walked in the unlocked door and heard her moans coming from the bedroom faded in a flood of lust.

He couldn’t stop the sounds that escaped him. Part groan, part growl, all need. Her gaze swung toward the door, her pupils widening until her hazel irises all but disappeared. He met her eyes briefly, electrically, before he deliberately shifted his attention back between her golden thighs.

Abruptly, her movements stilled.

They stared at each other in silent challenge. Her flushed face reddened more, the color inching all the way up to her hairline. She’d always been a blusher, but he hadn’t seen that reaction from her in too many years to count. It had been a long time since he’d flustered her, and he liked it.

For an instant, neither of them moved. Hello, awkward. But in spite of the strained circumstance of their reunion, he only wanted one thing.

For her to finish.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured.

Click here to purchase.

Tempestuous by Nicole Austin

2010-06-25T06:00:00.000-05:00

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.

Excerpt:

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.

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

2010-06-21T06:00:00.003-05:00

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.

Excerpt:

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.”

Author Spotlight Contest Winner!

2010-06-20T09:40:00.001-05:00

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.

Riding Double by Sayde Grace

2010-06-18T06:00:00.002-05:00

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

Blurb:

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?

Excerpt:

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.”

In the Author Spotlight at Joyfully Reviewed!

2010-06-16T08:21:00.001-05:00

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

http://www.joyfullyreviewed.com/interviews/author-spotlight-darah-lace

If you check it out, let me know what you think via email

(darah@darahlace.com)

and I'll enter you in a chance to win one of my books.

Shared by Lily Harlem

2010-06-16T06:00:00.000-05:00

Shared
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.

Excerpt:

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.

“But…”

“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.”

Chatting at Joyfully Reviewed!

2010-06-13T18:49:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow, Monday, June 14

4 PM - 9 PM Eastern

Chat with

KyAnn Waters, Darah Lace,

Debra Glass & Paisley Smith

Saddle Broke reviewed by Romance Studio!

2010-06-12T10:30:00.001-05:00

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.