A Sneak Peek at the 1st 27 pages of ICED by Karen Marie Moning
Spotlight Feature of Together for Christmas by Lisa Plumley
TOGETHER FOR CHRISTMAS
by
Lisa Plumley
Kismet, Michigan
T-minus 21 days until Christmas
Babysitting wasn’t usually in Casey Jackson’s repertoire.
Neither was snow.
Taken together, that made it pretty damn confounding that he was currently driving through a blizzard on his way to a babysitting job. But this babysitting job was special. It was, quite literally, a babysitting job he couldn’t refuse.
Not if he wanted to stay gainfully employed, at least.
Which he did. It was a matter of necessity. And pride.
Squinting through the windshield of his rented four-wheel-drive Subaru, trying not to become hypnotized by the flurries of snowflakes hitting the glass, Casey reminded himself he could do this. He could babysit. And he could drive through a snowstorm.
Hell, he could do anything! He might not typically hang out with rug rats (a very deliberate choice) or grapple with badass subzero weather conditions (or any weather conditions, really)—as a top troubleshooter with one of L.A.’s premier talent agencies, he had little need to do either—but he did get things done. He got problems sorted, difficult divas placated, and on-set imbroglios smoothed over.
Making things right was Casey’s specialty. Handling things that other people couldn’t manage was his forte. He was the man who got in, got everyone back on track, and then got out…leaving everyone in his wake satisfied, harmonized, and improbably happy to have been “managed” by the best in the business. It was just what he did. He didn’t know why he did it so well. He just…did.
Until Casey had joined his agency, his job hadn’t even existed. One crucial averted crisis later, it had. Thanks to his first major success, now his agency paid him to go wherever he needed to to rehab star athletes’ dinged public images, settle down wild rockers and rappers, and mollify demanding megastars—megastars like pop sensation Heather Miller, whose over-the-top, over-budget, wildly ambitious Live! from the Heartland televised Christmas special had brought him to Kismet in the first place.
His agency didn’t usually pay Casey to babysit. But they did trust him enough to give him a very long leash. That meant that he was free to deal with crises like this one on his own terms. If Casey wanted to spend the next few weeks making like a muscle-bound, frostbitten, ridiculously overpaid man-nanny while he worked his deal-making magic with Heather Miller and her TV special, he could. So that’s what he was going to do.
Even if the thought of doing it while stuck in the tiny, touristy, northwestern Michigan burg of Kismet made him want to bolt for Gerald R. Ford International Airport in Grand Rapids, some fifty miles distant, and forget he’d ever set foot in town.
Seriously. The place was like a freaking Christmas card come to life, Casey realized as the blizzard momentarily eased up. He ran his windshield wipers to push away the snow and then peered outside again, taking in the picturesque, snow-piled, lively small-town streets surrounding him. Old-fashioned holiday decorations were plastered over every inch of available space. Holiday music wafted from municipal speakers, penetrating his car’s windows as he waited at a stoplight. Shoppers bustled to and fro on the surrounding sidewalks, carrying overstuffed bags and smiling at one another. A few of them even smiled at him.
He frowned, momentarily bewildered by their neighborliness. Then he smiled back. He lifted his gloved hand in a brief wave.
The passersby waved back, then kept going. Still flummoxed, Casey watched as they made their way into a nearby sweetshop, stamping their booted feet and adjusting their woolly scarves.
L.A. was friendly enough—hell, just about everyone everywhere was friendly to Casey—but this bucolic, over-the-top holiday jollity was different. It was totally inexplicable.
Somehow, he realized, his newest assignment had taken him to The Twilight Zone 2.0: The Hallmark Channel Edition.
Most of the year, as Casey had learned before leaving L.A., Kismet was a resort town full of lakeside B&Bs, busy bait-and-tackle shops, dusty antique stores, and rundown mom-and-pop restaurants. Thanks to in-state day-trippers and out-of-state vacationers who were willing to pay for its kitschy ambiance, the town had done all right for itself, even in a shaky economy.
What Casey hadn’t uncovered beforehand—what everyone at his agency had undoubtedly hidden from him (with good reason)—was that, in December, the whole damn place turned into Christmas Central. It was, Casey thought as he surveyed the scene anew, like a Norman Rockwell painting crossed with a Bing Crosby song dosed with a big handful of silvery tinsel and hung with candy canes, then broadcast in surround sound and Technicolor. It was idyllic and authentic and damnably jolly.
It smelled like gingerbread, too. All over town. He’d noticed that as he’d gotten out of his car on location to meet Heather Miller. The fragrance still lingered here, miles away. How was that even possible? Who ate gingerbread, anyway? Elves?
The upshot was, Kismet was everything Casey typically avoided. Times ten. Wrapped in a bow. With chaser lights on top and a garland of mistletoe on the side and way too much ho-ho-ho-ing going on in the background. Because, to put it bluntly, Casey was not a “Christmas” kind of guy. As a matter of principle, he dodged all things green and red and sparkly and heartwarming. As a matter of necessity, he didn’t “do” the holidays. As a matter of fact, he’d never even been tempted to.
Nothing short of a catastrophe on the scale of Heather Miller’s problem-plagued, currently in-production holiday special—and the lucrative bonus Casey stood to earn if he brought it in on budget and on time—could have made him spend more than an hour in a town like Kismet: a place that promised candlelit ice-skating sessions, an official Christmas parade, a fanciful holiday-light house tour, sleigh rides with genuine jingle bells, a Santa Claus-lookalike contest (in the town square, right next to the community’s fifty-foot decorated Noble fir tree), and a weekly cookie-decorating get-together and jamboree.
It was all so flipping wholesome. Casey thought he might be breaking out in freckles and naiveté already. It was possible he felt an “aw-shucks” coming on. He’d only been in town an hour—long enough to meet Heather Miller, hear her initial demands, and start laying the groundwork for the two of them to come to terms. At this rate, he’d morph into Gomer Pyle by lunchtime.
Muttering a swearword, Casey set his Subaru in motion again. He suddenly craved a cigarette, a shot of tequila, and a week’s worth of irresponsible behavior—not necessarily in that order.
Boundaries made him itchy. Coziness made him cranky. And the holidays…well, they sent him straight into Scrooge mode.
While Casey realized that that character quirk was part of what made him ideal for this job—because his antipathy toward the holidays gave him a necessary clarity about Heather Miller’s TV special and all its escalating complications—he still wasn’t ready for…this.
He hadn’t been ready for Heather Miller’s opening salvo in their negotiations, either. Probably because she’d caught him off guard.
The problem is my little sister, the pop star had told Casey bluntly and confidentially, giving him an almost credible dose of blue-eyed solemnity in the process. I haven’t been back home to Kismet for a while, Heather had confided, and frankly, I think she’s a little starstruck. I need someone to keep her…occupied for a while, so I can focus on performing.
Casey had been dubious. He’d pushed Heather a little more, relying on his ability to establish an almost instant rapport.
But People magazine’s pick for “sexiest songstress” had remained adamant. However unlikely her story, she’d stuck to it.
If you can keep Kristen busy for a while, I’m sure I can make fabulous progress on my special! Heather had insisted. She’d tossed back her long, famously blond hair (there was a shade of Garnier hair color named after her), offered him a professionally whitened smile, and added, Kristen is a great girl. Just a little…unsophisticated. She’s never left Kismet. She doesn’t “get” show business the way you and I do.
By the time the former Rolling Stone, Vanity Fair, and Vogue cover girl had quit describing her “tomboyish” younger sibling, Casey had formed a pretty clear picture of the braces-wearing, cell phone-toting, gawky girl with Bieber Fever and a wardrobe of Converse sneakers whom he was expected to babysit.
He’d decided to agree to do it, too. To babysit. Him.
Or at least, if not technically babysit—because Heather hadn’t actually used that particular word—then entertain the kid long enough to allow Heather to get down to work.
It wouldn’t be so bad, Casey figured. He’d probably trail little Kristen Miller to the mall, listen to her squee over the latest Twilight movie with her bubblegum-chewing friends, and watch her check in to Facebook a zillion times a day. Maybe he’d help her with her homework or something. Maybe he’d take her to the zoo. If the zoo was open in December. Whatever it took to keep her out of her older sister’s way until the TV special was in the can, that’s what Casey was prepared to do.
Frankly, he’d agreed to do worse a few times in his life.
As a gambit meant to earn some goodwill with Heather while encouraging her to fulfill her contractual obligations to the network, it wasn’t ideal. It was time consuming and inefficient and oblique. He didn’t like the idea of keeping the younger Miller sister “out of the way,” either. It seemed heartless. As far as Casey was concerned, Heather should have worked out her differences with her kid sister herself, straightforwardly and reasonably, the way a regular person would have done.
But in this scenario, as in all others, Heather was “the talent.” That meant she was exempt from normal human behavior and normal human expectations. Casey had logged plenty of hours pacifying performers like her. He knew the score by now. More than likely, Heather’s little sister did, too.
If Kristen Miller was wreaking havoc on the TV special, causing delays for America’s sweetheart, she’d have to be dealt with. Casey would have to be the one to do it. The sooner, the better. Once he’d assessed the situation more closely, he’d reevaluate things, he promised himself. For now, he planned to meet Kristen, figure out her angle, and see what happened from there. It wasn’t a perfect beginning, but it was a start. And Casey believed, above all else, in moving forward.
Because nothing ever lasted forever.
Except maybe fruitcake.
And that persistent gingerbread aroma all over town.
It was actually starting to smell good to him. Spicy and sweet and full of down-home goodness, with just a hint of—
Ugh. Screw this, Casey decided as he noticed the unbelievably sappy direction his thoughts had just taken. He was jonesing for old-timey gingerbread, daydreaming about its flavor profile like a wine aficionado anticipating a limited-run Napa Valley merlot, craving its Christmassy qualities most of all. I need a detour from Christmasville before I do something stupid.
So he wrenched his steering wheel sideways, floored the gas, and pulled into his destination fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. He might not find the Teenaged Terror of TV Specials in the first place Heather had suggested he look, but anything was better than giving in to Christmas…and all the syrupy, sentimental, deceitful promises that came right along with it.
A little more about Lisa: USA Today best-selling author Lisa Plumley has delighted readers worldwide with more than two dozen popular novels. Her work has been translated into multiple languages and editions, and includes contemporary romances, western historical romances, paranormal romances, and a variety of stories in romance anthologies. Her fresh, funny style has been likened to such reader favorites as Rachel Gibson, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, and Jennifer Crusie, but her unique characterization is all her own.
Lisa lives in sunny Arizona with her husband and two children. In her free time she reads romances and research books by the dozen, goes running, practices yoga, and spends time with her family—hiking in the mountains and deserts of Arizona, visiting ghost towns and historical sites, and watching classic movies
Learn more about Lisa here
Spotlight “In Her Sights” by Charley Colins
In Her Sights
by Charley Colins
Some call her a killer.
Others call her a hero.
Lexie Olympia calls herself neither. She’s getting the job done because she can. A beloved philanthropist by day who’s nicknamed Melville’s Sweetheart, Lexie has the city wrapped around her little finger. Having been a victim in the past, left behind with the killer still on the loose, Lexie knows what it’s like to live with that fear. Instead of biting her nails over it, she takes action. Drug lords, gang leaders, con artists, kidnappers, serial killers, anyone who leaves behind innocent victims are marked on Lexie’s list.
When a neighbor leaves a stolen ancient dagger on her doorstep and skips town, Lexie’s left picking up the pieces. The police, a local private investigator, and a gang are all after this artifact and Lexie uses her nighttime persona, Artemis, to get to the bottom of things. Everything is going smoothly until she gets caught.
Violet Midnight by Lynn Rush Release day
Violet Midnight
by Lynn Rush
New Adult Paranormal Romance
Let the Hunt begin…
Blending in with her college co-eds proves difficult for vampire Hunter, Emma Martin, considering the mystical tattoo on her wrist glows whenever Vamps are near. And after three months of silence, the glow is back with a vengeance.
Jake Cunningham witnesses Emma, a violet-eyed beauty, using unimaginable powers to fight off a fanged creature. Finally, after two years of searching, he may have found out what he’s become—a Hunter, like Emma.
Thankful for an ally in the fight against the Vamps, Emma finds hope and comfort in Jake’s arms. As she learns more about her new love’s family and its dark heritage, she may be forced not only to hunt them but to sacrifice her life to save Jake’s soul.
Want to learn more about Lynn? Check her out here:
Catch the Rush™: www.LynnRush.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/
Twitter: www.twitter.com/LynnRush
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/
Additional info you might find interesting:
Lynn is having a huge party on Facebook 10/16/2012 from 7-9pm EDT.
https://www.facebook.com/
Tons of prizes.
Lots of authors participating. It’s going to be great.
Spotlight Feature of Bonnie Bliss upcoming releases
Halloween Submissive
(October 9th)
Halloween has arrived and Tom Newton is stressed with his job as a fireman. His best friend Rob, a submissives’ wet dream, is having a play party on Halloween night. Lucy, a nurse who has secretly been crushing on Tom, has decided to go to the party. Tom has decided that he needs to release some tension, and have some fun during his time off. What Lucy and Tom don’t know is that Rob, his best friend, and Millie, Tom’s sister, have set this up. Join them as they enjoy a hot night of bondage play. Can it all run smoothly? Will true love blossom? Will the Master get his slave? There is only one way to find out.
A story packed with sultry moments of Dominance and submission. Halloween Submission promises to be the hottest holiday this year.
Warning: This book is intended for readers over the age of 18. It contains, but is not limited to intense bondage play, references of Sadomasochism, impact play, anal play, and one hot night on All Hollow’s Eve, you aren’t soon to forget.
Book Trailer – http://youtu.be/_qWoPkDX0t0
Excerpt for Halloween Submission:
“Such a pretty Kitty you are.”
“I have always wanted to spank Catwoman. You’re not focused are you?” He was shaking his head.
Her body shivered. She wanted this, but not with him. She wanted it with the stranger—with Tom. Lucy knew more than anything she could place her fantasy in the arms of this leather clad Adonis. Robert had been a means to an end all those months ago, a body to suck out the stress and pain through his Sadistic edge.
“On your knees! Crawl to the bench, you know which one, don’t look at me that way.”
She averted her gaze. Her head dropped in respect. The new focus of her attention—it went right to the man at the door. He had gotten closer though, having actually stepped into the room. The heat of his gaze penetrated her to the very core and shot straight to her pussy. The walls of her vagina clenched. Lucy sucked in a deep breath as warm fingers pressed against her chin and lifted her head. Looking at Robert felt wrong somehow. She kept her thoughts on the mystery man in black. It was him. He gave her the mind set to put Tom in Robert’s place.
“On the bench, Kitty. You know the drill.”
She did. God, did she know the drill. Every hair on her body felt lifted. Her heart pounded and she started to tingle from head to toe. Even her scalp took on the effect. Nipples puckered in the tight confines of the corset; hidden to the riveted gaze of the stranger watching her. This was her test. To show him how beautiful her submission was. That was all she needed now to wash away the stress and exhaustion from the long shift at the hospital. She wanted it so bad to be Tom, but she settled for the fantasy as she laid her body across the padded branch. Her breasts, if they were free, would be dangling off either side. Robert didn’t bind her. The man knew how to keep a woman bound with the power of his authority and his voice.
In her line of vision came a beautiful paddle. It was thick dark wood, oiled to shine. On one side the word naughty was etched. That was for moments with one good swat; a reminder spanking. This was something else entirely. It was a show, a game. Robert knew, she knew, and the man watching knew this was all for him. Lucy definitely wiggled her ass, still covered in sheer lace.
“How many Kitty?”
“Eight,” said without hesitation.
She could feel his smile as Robert rubbed his suddenly scalding palm against her buttock.
“Such a pretty Kitty you are.”
The hand was gone. Pulses sounded off loud in her ear. It seemed like hours before the shot of pain vibrated through her flesh, exploding out of her in a moan that came out as it was supposed to.
“One.”
Sweet euphoric bliss settled into the heat that now simmered in her ass cheeks. Two and three came quickly, to the top of her thighs. The sting mixed with dull pain made her whimper out the count. The fourth came to a lower spot on her left thigh. Her fingers started to curl up. Her toes were like shriveled things in her high heels. The man was watching. He was now standing in front of her, a few steps away, causing an orgasm to rise to the surface as if she would boil over.
Twisted Ropes
(October 16th)
After D.G. finds herself swept away to a sexual fueled land of horny munchkins, and sexy dildo shoe wearing good witches—all she wants to do is find her way home. After travelling for hours on the yellow brick road, she comes to a four way crossing and soon realizes her journey is just starting. After watching a heated display of slavery with ropes, floggers, whips and double penetration; she is introduced to a seemingly sweet scarecrow named Hayden. Her first sexual foray with the good witch was only the beginning, but now Hayden is about to teach D.G. how a real Master ties up and owns his slave.
Filled with all things you loved about the original story, twisted into a sexual pleasure that fans of the first will enjoy even more. The continuing story of D.G.’s adventures in Oz is sure to arouse and delight the naughtiest of readers.
Warning: This story is for adult readers, and contains scenes of, but not limited to: forced bondage, double penetration, strong BDSM themes, impact play: floggers, whips, and spankings.
Excerpt for Twisted Ropes:
Two men pulled a slave
“Follow the yellow brick road, follow the yellow brick road, follow, follow, follow, follow…” Where the song came from, she had no fucking clue. She knew that one moment she was humming, spinning in a circle, and trying to figure out a way to go. Then the next she was diving for cover in the corn fields across the way from her.
As she tried to keep herself unnoticed, she backed into a large wooden pole that staked in the ground. D.G. thought nothing of it. It looked like an obstacle that she would have to sort out later—if she needed. Licking her lips, she parted the tall stalks in front of her. Her eyes locked on the forms of three people. Two very large, powerful looking soldiers, and one generously curved blonde woman.
It took several moments for D.G. to realize what she saw.
Two men pulled a slave.
Sucking in a loud breath, she snapped her mouth shut. D.G. clapped a hand over her mouth.
Hunk number one clad in glossy steel armor on his upper body, it was the only thing that made him look ready for battle. A blonde, his legs fully encased in tight black leather that hid nothing. Not even the huge bulge in his pants that seemed to push against the zipper. She noticed he had rope, and a very imposing black leather whip attached to those tight leathers. His arms, biceps were the size of her head. He stood tall. The only other man she knew taller was Bo Davenport.
Home sickness and longing welled up inside her at the mere thought of his name. D.G. always secretly thought she wasn’t good enough for Bo. Just the fact that she wanted to leave, and that Bo clearly needed a good ole’ fashion wife to be his one and only made her unworthy of all that was Bo Davenport. She made a vow to herself right then and there. When she finally made it home, she would shove all of that bullshit aside, hop on him so fast and beg him to keep her forever. All this time away from Aunt Em, Uncle Henry, and the farm made her wish she hadn’t acted so stupid. Putting everything on hold—school, her future, and dating life. All so she could be some actress in New York on Broadway. Looking back on it now, she realized how silly and immature that sounded.
She would get her life straightened when she returned home.
If, she returned home.
Interivew with Jenna Jaxon
Books-n-Kisses is pleased to welcome Jenna Jaxon to the blog today to chat about her new book Only Scandal Will Do.
Jenna, can you please share with us a little about yourself
I’m Jenna Jaxon, newly minted (at least I feel newly minted) romance author. I live with my family in a small town in Virginia and teach at a local university. I’ve always had a thing for cats and at the moment have three. I’m an only child who swore I’d have more than one child, which is how I ended up with two daughters. J
Have you always wanted to be an author?
I’ve always liked to write (my first story was written in 3rd grade), but I never had the drive to pursue a career in writing. Especially after being introduced to theatre in 10th grade. That then became where my passion lay–until recently.
Who are some of your favorite writers? Who do you feel has influenced your writing?
Some of my favorite authors in romance are Jo Beverley, Lisa Kleypas, Kathleen Woodiwiss, and Mary Balogh. In other genres, Stephen King, John Grisham, Patricia Cornwell, and Phillipa Gregory. Of the above listed authors, I’d say Beverley has been the most influential, followed closely by King. She gave me a love for the 18th century, and Stephen King’s characters have fascinated me ever since I began to read him. He writes them as though he’s inside their skin, which I’ve tried to accomplish in my work as well.
How did you get into writing in this specific genre? Have you ever thought about writing in a different genre?
I started writing historical romance after reading Kathleen Woodiwiss’s final book, Everlasting. I ‘d read a couple of her other works years before and loved them, then when I picked this one up, I just felt as though I had something within me that had to be expressed in the same way. I said to myself, “I can write something like this.” Sat down at the computer and proceeded to write a medieval romance.
I’ve written in another sub-genre, erotic romance, but don’t think I’d write in another genre. Some of my historical romance may stray into what would technically be called “historical fiction,’ but I still think of it as romance.
What are some of your writing rituals?
I usually have to write whenever and wherever I can, so I don’t have certain things I must have to write. The closest thing I have to a ritual is in the mornings I turn on the computer, open my emails and various other sites in a particular order, and then open up my document and begin to write.
Can you please tell us about your latest book(s)?
My latest historical release, Only Scandal Will Do, is a romance set in Georgian England. Lady Katarina Fitzwilliam is kidnapped and sold at an auction to a masked man for his evening’s pleasure. He doesn’t believe her story, seduces to the point of ruin before she wounds him and escapes. When the man, Duncan Ferrers, Marquess of Dalbury, awakens and find out she’s really the sister of a peer, he attempts to find her and marry her before the scandal erupts around them. Lady Katarina has other ideas and leads him on a merry chase throughout most of the book.
How did you come with the idea for this story?
Several things coalesced into the idea for the story. A question arose in my mind while reading a Mary Balogh novel, a random fact intrigued me–about the last peer to be hanged for murder, and the wild nature of the time period (discovered through Jo Beverley’s novels) all came together to create this story.
Can you share with us your current work(s) in progress?
Currently, I’m working on the second book in the House of Pleasure series (of which Scandal is the first). It’s called Only Marriage Will Do. I’m also editing the first book of my medieval trilogy, Time Enough to Love, Book 1: Betrothal and putting finishing touches on a Victorian romance, As Long As You’re Mine.
What would you be if you were not an author?
Bored. LOL No, actually I love my day job, which is teaching theatre at a local university.
What is in your To Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming release you can’t wait for?
The one I’m dying to start but won’t let myself contemplate is the 4th book in the Outlander series. When I read those books, the rest of the world can go hang. I have to read them straight through.
Is there anything else you would like to add?
There is a book trailer for Only Scandal Will Do that’s on Youtube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdak1uQCpcA. It will give you a very good idea of the book’s style and content. I love it, but then I’m biased. LOL
And thank you so much for having me here today on Books & Kisses. You questions were so much fun. J
Author Links:
Blog: http://jennajaxon.wordpress.com/
FB: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenna-Jaxon/146857578723570
Twitter: @Jenna_Jaxon
Only Scandal Will Do
by Jenna Jaxon
Buy Links:
Amazon |Lyrical Press | ARe | iTunes
Kidnapped and sold at auction in a London brothel, Lady Katarina Fitzwilliam squelches an undeniable attraction to the masked stranger who purchased her, pits her wits against him, and escapes him and the scandal that would ruin her life.
Unable to resist temptation in a London brothel, Duncan Ferrers, Marquess of Dalbury, purchases a fiery beauty. She claims she’s a lady, but how can she be? No lady of his acquaintance in polite society is anything like her.
Then he discovers she is who she says, and that this latest romp has compromised her reputation. He knows how that is. One more scandal and he’ll be cast out of London society, but he needs a wife who’ll provide an heir to carry on his illustrious family’s name. He seeks out Katarina, intending only to scotch the scandal, but instead finds his heart ensnared.
He’s betting their future he’ll capture her heart, but does he have what it takes to win the wager?
WARNING: A blade-wielding heroine who crosses swords with a master of sensuality.
Interview with Honey Jans
Books-n-Kisses is pleased to welcome Honey Jans to the blog today to chat a little about life, writing and her new book Blue Moon Magic.
Honey, can you please share with us a little about yourself
I’m romance author Honey Jans. I’m a small town girl from Wisconsin with a big imagination. I guess you could say that I’m a natural born romantic who tends to daydream. Sometimes it gets me into trouble. But on the plus side it sparks my vivid and sometimes kinky imagination. I love writing erotic romance and it’s my fervent hope that readers will enjoy my books. So stick around. Check out my red hot covers…some of those cover models are truly drool worthy. Read my excerpts, and enter my giveaways. I hope well be friends. I’d love to hear from all my readers. Feel free to post on my blog.
Have you always wanted to be an author?
Actually I’m a late bloomer. I’ve always loved to read but never thought to write until my sister gave me two bags full of her cast off romances. Well after wading through the stack I thought maybe I could write one. Of course it wasn’t that easy but there isn’t anything else I’d rather be doing.
What is your most interesting writing quirk?
I don’t know if I’d call it a quirk but I have to daydream and sometimes I have to close my eyes to write a scene. It makes for some interesting typo’s but it works to loosen up my creativity.
Can you please tell us about your latest book(s)?
Blue Moon Magic is in print at Muse It Up Hot Publishing. It’s the print collection of an extraordinary 4 author paranormal erotic romance series. This series was inspired by the Beast Of Bray Road a myth that lives in the Kettle Moraine Forest of Wisconsin. The individual eBooks are still available at Loose Id.
BLUE MOON MAGIC
One Father. Two Mothers. Four Siblings. One extraordinary night that will change them all forever.
How did you come with the idea for this story?
We based the series on the legend of The Beast Of Bray Road.
Can you share with us your current work(s) in progress?
I’m working on a ménage titled Bayou Heat that’s a bit of a departure for me. I hope my readers will love it like I do..
Who is the one author that you would love to meet someday and why? I would love to meet Jayne Ann Krentz. I’ve been reading her for so many years and I feel like I already know her.
What is the best piece of advice you would give to someone that wants to get into writing?
Get help. No really. I would first off take a few classes and join a good critique group. Good feedback can be invaluable. It worked for me.
Can you share with us something off your bucket list.
Yes. I want to travel to Europe and really immerse myself in the culture.
What is in your To Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming release you can’t wait for?
My to be read pile consists of anything by my favorite authors. I’m constantly looking for new releases. One thing I really would love is another book by Bob Mayor and Jennifer Cruise like Agnes and the Hitman. It loved that book and hope there will be more from them. I also loved Toni Marie Causeys Bobby Faye series and hope for some sequels.
my website is www.honeyjans.com
my blog is http://atasteofhoneyjans.blogspot.com
One Father. Two Mothers. Four siblings. One incredible night that will change them all forever.
Excerpt:
Charity rushed back to her office in the IT department, cheeks flaming. At least one of the Langford sisters was getting laid on a regular basis. But really, catching Chas and Justin making love in the executive washroom was just plain embarrassing. Even worse, it brought home to her the sex she wasn’t having. Now she was the one taking pains to keep her fantasy life private.
Passing her staff, she avoided eye contact only to come upon the immovable object of her guard dog, Lucas Kendal. The PI sat at a desk across from her office where he could keep an eye on her. The work she’d assigned him as a cover sat ignored. Instead, he read an issue of Sports Illustrated; no doubt the swimsuit issue. It was a wonder he hadn’t followed her into the ladies room.
The man practically oozed sex appeal. Her lips tingled as she stared at him. What might he taste like? She’d love to find out; maybe nibble his square jaw, and dip her tongue into that cute cleft in his chin. “Down, girl,” she muttered in self-recrimination. He’s hired to look after you, not teach you the joys of sex at your old maid age of thirty-two. Just then, he looked up, snagging her gaze, his quirked brow telling her he’d guessed her thoughts.
Cheeks flaming anew, she quickly shut the door and locked it. Thank goodness, she had her mystery Laird to dim the flames. This sexual itch, combined with the series of hacking attacks she’d thwarted, threatened to drive her crazy. Ending the barrage of attacks with her fireball program had made enemies. The pissed off hackers sent death threats, prompting her father to hire Kendal, who made her want to knock him to the floor and do him. It was a vicious cycle, one she couldn’t break.
Throwing off those troubling thoughts, she peeled off the jacket of her business suit, loving the way her silk blouse felt against her bare skin, and rushed over to her computer, late for a date with her cyber Master. She had two hours until she had to leave for her staff’s annual weekend getaway to the IT conference. A weekend far away from her annoying babysitter would be wonderful. Maybe she could hook up with a charming stranger in Las Vegas, sow a few wild oats, and get this desire for sex out of her system.
She slipped into her desk chair and reached for the keyboard. Her excitement building, she logged on to the online sex site she’d discovered last week and looked for his screen name. Yes! He was there. Wolf. A thrill went through her. She logged on as Honey and put on her headset, saying softly, “I’m here, my Laird.”
“Follow me to our private room.”
She shivered, hearing his sexy rumble; a thick brogue that rushed over her like warm honey, making her cream as she imagined what was coming. Sex with a guy wearing a kilt — now, that had kinky possibilities. With guilty pleasure, she murmured, “Yes, my Laird.” She could surrender to her online master, get off, and still maintain an illusion of icy reserve.
“How many times did you touch yourself today, Honey?”
His demand to know how many times she’d played with herself made her hesitate. Hell, the man wouldn’t know one way or another if she told the truth or a lie. After a tense moment, she let out a sigh of surrender. Here comes the Langford upbringing again…finish what you start and never lie to anyone about anything. Blushing, she confessed, “Six, my Laird.” His chuckle made her squirm in her chair; she was going to get punished. Good. She thought about the vibrator in her desk drawer; maybe he’d make her come three times in a row like last time.
“What a naughty girl not to wait for Master’s permission.”
His scolding echoed her thoughts. Why couldn’t she control herself? “I’m sorry, Sir.” She shivered with delight, getting into the secret fantasy.
“Did you obey my instructions, Honey?”
She brushed her bare breasts through her silk blouse, loving the free, sensual feeling of forgoing her usual bra and panties. “Yes, Laird, I’m not wearing underwear.”
He took in a deep breath. “Good girl. Unbutton your blouse for me and play with your pretty tits.”
“Yes, my Laird.” Her hands quickly flew to do his bidding, slipping the ivory buttons out of their buttonholes until her blouse hung open. The air conditioning wafted a cool breeze over her budding nipples. With a sigh of pleasure, she cupped her full breasts and fanned her fingertips over the puckered nipples, murmuring at the pleasure. “I’m playing with them, Laird.”
“Excellent. Imagine it’s my big hands touching them, getting your nipples hard.”
Closing her eyes, she pictured her mystery Laird, imagining her soft hands becoming his larger, harder ones, his rough fingertips rolling her stiff nipples. “My nipples are so very hard for you, Laird.”
“Now pinch them for me, Honey, a small punishment for being late.”
She pinched them firmly, whimpering at the erotic feeling.
“Good girl, now spread your legs and touch your pussy. Let me know if it’s wet for me.”
She leaned back in her big desk chair and spread her legs, her hand reaching under her skirt to touch her hot pussy. Her clit was stiff, her pussy quivering, and wet. She rubbed it, moaning. “I’m wet, Sir.”
“Good. Play with that bad pussy; make it nice and creamy for me, but don’t come.”
She stroked her wet slit, her thumb rubbing her stiff clit. She couldn’t hold back a moan as she got nearer to orgasm.
“Imagine it’s my hand touching you, my fingers slipping inside you, getting you ready to be loved.”
“Yes, my Laird. I’m imagining it’s you. When can we meet for real?” she asked, desperate for a taste of the real thing.
“When I think you’re ready, Honey, and not before.”
She groaned at his rejection, but it didn’t stop her hot response to his commands, or her growing need for him.
“Do you like the way it feels when my fingers slip inside you?”
She panted, her pussy clenching on her fingers as he spoke. “Oh yes, Laird, very much.”
“Now stop.”
Trembling on the brink of a huge orgasm, her fingers went still at his command. “Please, Sir.”
“No. You’re being punished for playing with yourself earlier. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Charity moaned as he disconnected and tried to stop, but couldn’t. Her fingers plunged into her wet pussy, pretending they were her mystery Laird’s. Ripples gathered, and she exploded into orgasm. She was dimly aware of her office door opening as she came.
Lucas Kendal stood inside Charity Langford’s office doorway blocking anyone passing by from ogling his beautiful she-wolf mate in the throes of passion. Still shaken by the culture shock of being rescued by the Elite, only to have his half-brother Lash killed in the raid, he was still trying to get his bearings. The cyber sex he’d initiated to get her ready for mating had backfired, making him frustrated and horny as hell. Keeping his promise to take Lash’s place as Charity’s mate — and not succumb to her charms — was going to be harder than he’d thought. That wasn’t the only thing hard, he thought ruefully, his cock throbbing.
He’d protect her; teach her passion, and who she was before she dumped him. He was no more than a stud. Hell, he ought to be used to it after the Betas’ breeding farm. After the danger of the Blue Moon was past, her father would choose a more suitable husband for her, and he would move on, ever moving in the shadowy world of the Alphas. Still, he couldn’t help watching her in the throes of an orgasm he’d initiated.
Charity’s beautiful face was flushed with passion, her headset still in place, her eyes shut, as the extended orgasm swept her away. His hunter’s gaze focused hungrily on her beautiful bare breasts, the pink nipples like ripe strawberries. How he ached to taste them. The sweet sound of ecstasy pouring from her full red lips was like music to his ears, and like an aphrodisiac to any rogue wolf within a sixty-yard radius. This was no longer about a turf war between wolfen societies. From the moment he’d met her two weeks ago this had turned very personal.
What a naughty girl to disobey him and keep playing with herself. She was so exquisitely responsive; it was hard for him to restrain his animal instincts. He itched to take her over his knee in retribution and then make love to her until she couldn’t think straight. “Want me to take care of that for you, love?” he asked, working hard to keep the sibilant hiss of his Scot’s ancestry out of his voice. It wouldn’t do for her to guess that he and her Laird were one and the same. He watched her big violet eyes pop open.
Lucas smiled as her mouth formed a perfect “O” of shock, but true to her royal status, her dismay soon was replaced by an imperious glare.
“Who gave you a key to my office?” she demanded, quickly pulling her hand out from under her skirt and reaching for her blouse.
He kicked shut the door and held up his bare hands. “Look, love, no key. The door was unlocked.” He didn’t bother mentioning his fully developed skills gave him powers she’d never dreamed of. Opening a locked door was easy. He’d walk through fire to get to her and keep her safe. He closed the distance between them, noting her trembling hands as she buttoned her blouse. The lady wasn’t as unperturbed as she pretended to be. Good, it suited him to keep her off balance. “We need to talk about this weekend.”
“Save your breath, Kendal, I’m going.”
“Have it your way,” he murmured, focusing on her stiff nipples showing clearly through her silk blouse. “I’ll have to go with you.”
Noting the direction of his stare, she scowled and swiveled her desk chair so that her back was to him. She stood and put on her blazer. “I’ll see you at the airport, then.”
“It doesn’t work that way and you know it. I’ve arranged transport for us. I’ll be here to collect you in half an hour,” he said, walking out of the room. For all his sexual experience, he couldn’t help feeling like the vulnerable one.
Happy Release Day to Katie Reus
A Jaugar Kiss
by Katie Reus
BLURB:
Owen Wright, alpha of his wolf pack, hasn’t seen jaguar shifter Gabriela Segura in nearly ten years. She was his first love—until he did something to drive her away just as their relationship was heating up. Now Gabriela has returned to Montana, and his craving for her is stronger than ever.
But a recent string of brutal attacks on humans have the wolves suspicious of the jaguars, threatening the tenuous peace between the packs. Before he can claim Gabriela as his mate, they must join forces to prove her family’s innocence and track down the true predator.
Read an Excerpt HERE
Spotlight Feature of Night Thief by Lisa Kessler
Night Thief
Night Series #1.5 (novella)
By Lisa Kessler
Order here: Amazon
Blurb:
After the fall of the Mayan civilization, Kane, an immortal Night Walker, has taken refuge in France for over 800 years. The modern world holds little interest for him until the night he meets the Golden Thief and is robbed of much more than his pocket watch.Marguerite Rousseau is living a double life. By day she is the assistant to an eccentric French artist, Antoine Berjon, and by night she dons elegant evening gowns to woo French dignitaries before lifting their wallets.Sparks ignite when Kane captures the thief, but Marguerite harbors a dark secret that could ruin them both.
Excerpt:
He knew the second she entered the ballroom. The sound of her laughter floated over the string quartet that played in the corner. Kane spun round, and his heart clenched. Her smile stopped time, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist. He resisted the urge to shove the other dancers away to get to her.
He couldn’t be too eager or the rabbit might flee.
Deep in the shadows of his soul, his spirit animal stirred. Kane halted for a moment, surprised at the awakening of the jungle cat. It had been decades since he last allowed himself to shift into his jaguar spirit. To feel it so close to the surface unsettled him.
When she approached him, her gaze demanded his attention. Tonight, he’d purposefully worn his finest rings and his favorite ruby-studded gold pocket watch. His wealth would draw her to him like the moths ached to drink in the candle’s firelight.
Or so he’d hoped.
He bowed his head slightly. “Would you honor me with this dance?”
She placed her warm fingers into his hand. Her sapphire eyes sparkled up at him. “It would be my pleasure, Monsieur.”
His heart made a curious jump when he gripped her fingertips and guided her to the center of the ballroom. He placed his hand on her corseted waist and led her into a waltz.
They circled with the music, her footsteps following his lead. Her body moved with the music as if she were part of the melody filling the room. Before he realized it, he’d lost himself in the dance, in her.
Her full, rose-colored lips begged to be kissed, and her golden curls brushed over the swell of her breasts. His fingers yearned to touch her soft skin.
His gaze slid along her jaw and down the length of her neck. She wore an elaborately jeweled velvet choker that hid her pulse from him. Definitely for the best.
As the music reached its final cadence, he bowed to her and lifted her hand to press a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “A pleasure to dance with you.”
A smile tugged at her lips, and her cheeks flushed with color. “The pleasure was mine, Monsieur.”
He released her fingertips and watched her turn to leave. Kane frowned and straightened his shirt, rubbing at the scar hidden beneath the fabric before he could stop himself. This woman had a strange effect over him. His watch still dangled from his vest. She hadn’t taken the bait.
“Forgive me.” She stopped and turned toward him again, her smile paralyzing him. “I do not even know your name.”
She stared into his eyes for a moment, and he toyed with the idea of peering into her mind, but decided against it. This female was a delicious puzzle he would enjoy solving. Slowly.
She offered her hand. “I am Marguerite Rousseau.”
He looked up at her while he kissed the back of her skilled hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Marguerite. I am Kane Bordeaux.”
He straightened without releasing her hand. “Who is the lucky gentleman you were rushing away to see?”
She laughed and shook her head. “There is no man I wish to see.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I am parched and in search of good wine.”
Kane placed her hand at the crook of his arm. “Allow me?”
“Oui.” She punctuated her response with a flirtatious tilt of her head.
He led her through the dancers, toward the wine and assorted bread and cheeses that decorated the table at the far end of the ballroom.
“Our host has been most gracious tonight.” Kane filled a glass with wine and watched as she placed cheese and bread on her plate, and the tiny silver cheese tongs into her satchel.
Not only clever and quick, but brazen.
He handed her a wineglass when she turned toward him. Nothing in her demeanor betrayed nervousness or guilt. If he hadn’t seen her slip the silver into her bag, he never would have suspected anything was amiss.
Marguerite sipped at the wine and dabbed at her brow with her lace handkerchief.
He glanced at the doorway. “Would you like to step onto the balcony?”
She smiled and surprised him again by taking his hand. “Oui, but only if you will join me.”
“As if I would let such beauty out of my sight.” Color crept up her powdered neck, invigorating her ivory skin. His tongue toyed with the sharp tips of his fangs while he fought the urge to taste her.
He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had awakened such desire in him.
She led him onto the balcony and sipped her wine. “How do you know the Marquis?”
Kane leaned against the balcony wall, swirling the wine in his glass. “I purchased a mare from him a few years ago. He invites me to his parties in hopes I will return the kindness with more business.” He tilted the glass to his mouth without allowing any of the liquid to pass his lips. “Is the Marquis a relative of yours?”
“No. I attend on behalf of my Master. The Marquis is an admirer of his work.” A house servant passed by, and she placed her glass on the tray. She gnawed at her lower lip, drawing his attention to her perfect mouth. “And where is your wife, Monsieur?”
Her tone made the question sound like a challenge. Kane frowned and straightened to his full height. “I have never been married.”
She paused for a moment. “Without a wife and children, who will carry on your family line?”
He bit back a surprising burst of laughter. “I assure you, my family line will continue without a wife.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying him. “You are…puzzling, Monsieur Bordeaux.”
“I prefer to think of myself as simple. Relationships complicate.” He straightened his stifling vest, fighting the urge to rip it off. His gold watch thumped against his chest, reminding him that his quarry had not taken the bait. Interesting.
“Ah, but life would be dull without them, no?” The sound of her voice and the way the candlelight sparkled in her eyes hypnotized him. She took his hand again. “The final dance is beginning. We should join the party.”
He allowed her to pull him back into the ballroom, and spun her around to face him. They waltzed among the other party guests, circling the room until the dancers sharing the floor blurred around them.
As the music swelled, her hand slipped from his and Marguerite spun away to her new dance partner. A pert, auburn-haired beauty with a shy smile took his hand, and though he might have considered seducing her into his bed, he couldn’t focus on her. Not with Marguerite dancing one, then two partners away.
It was a dizzying flood of color as dresses billowed, dancers turned, and laughter blended with the crescendo of the string quartet. Kane bowed and waltzed with several new partners before he realized he’d lost Marguerite in the crowd.
He fingered his vest pocket.
He had also lost his favorite gold watch.
Find out more about Lisa here:Spotlight Feature of The Taming of the Thief by Heather Long
The Taming of the Thief
Heather Long
One Treasure…
Some would kill to know what Sophie Kingston knows. Rich and powerful people will do anything to possess the secret, but not even Sophie realizes how much danger she is in—or how far they will go to hunt her down and take it from her. But when she sees a murder no one can prove, the threats to her life keep coming.
One Hunt…
Pietr Sauvage is neck deep in the hunt for The Fortunate Buddha when a lead draws him to New York and thrusts him into the life of art history specialist Sophie. What began as a favor turns into a desperate need to protect the sexy curator from the dark web of deception threatening to pull her under.
Too Many Thieves…
Lost in the shadow of intrigue and danger, Sophie must learn to trust Pietr, a man with an agenda, a man she can’t help but desire, before the ruthless thieves steal their only chance.
Raising the stakes heightens the attraction…
Excerpt:
The last lock gave and Sophie leaned on the door and opened it. Her bag weighed hard on her shoulder and all she could think about was a shower or a bath and a good night’s sleep. Then back to the museum to her archive and to making sense from chaos. Dr. Hinkley could come back from his sabbatical and it would turn out to just be too many episodes of her favorite crime shows infecting her with their gestalt.
She pushed inside, purse sliding down her arm and dropping on the floor. Hitting the lights with one hand, she shut the door with the other and snapped the locks into place, one at a time. It took her a moment to focus, to see the man sprawling in relaxed pose on her sofa, his ankles crossed, one over the other.
Dark hair tumbled over a ruggedly good-looking face of chiseled features under a growth of stubble. His eyes were soft amber, like fine liquor and his lips were full and even as they spread into a smile.
Sophie gaped.
“Bonjour, cheri.” The lilting French rolling off his tongue sounded as sexy as it was unexpected.
She opened her mouth and screamed, scrambling for the door locks and just as she wrenched open the door, he leaned past her and pushed it closed.
“I’m sorry, Professor Kingston, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The heat of his body burned into her as he pressed her against the door.
Sophie stared at him. The shooter’s French from the museum washed over her. But this man was taller.
Much taller.
“What are you doing in my apartment?”
“I need your help.”
“Breaking into my apartment is a bizarre way to ask for help.” How do I sound so very calm? Her heart beat against her ribs like a hummingbird desperate for escape.
“Oui.” Tall, dark and French had the grace to look abashed. “My apologies. I waited at the museum for a few hours, and then outside your apartment building. I admit, I got a little tired. I came inside to see if you’d gone out of town, but fortunately, here you are.”
Sophie’s mouth fell open further. Her heart stuttered over his grin, but quickened at the sense of outrage.
“Are you going to let me go?”
“Are you still going to scream?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Well then, I shall hold you here until you have considered the options. Oui?”
“My options?” Sophie’s eyebrows climbed. Was this man for real? Outrage smothered fear. “My options? You broke into my apartment. You’re holding me against my will. You just confessed to stalking me. And you want me to consider my options? Are you out of your mind?”
The bastard grinned. Grinned! A broad, toothy, flashing grin that sent shivers up her spine. Her stomach flipped over. He brushed so close the scent of his aftershave tickled her nostrils. She fought the urge to take a deeper inhale, to taste the flavor of the man on her tongue.
“I’ve been accused of worse, cheri. Fortunately for you, I am not insane. But I do need your help and I do need to talk to you without you screaming for help and putting us through a long night of uncomfortable questions.”
“I suppose you have a counter offer?” Had she gone completely insane that morning? Imagining a coworker felled by a bullet? A day of bad coffee and questioning at the police station? She was hungry. She was tired. Maybe that explained why she would entertain this lunacy.
“Of course. Dinner. Some wine. A conversation. After which, I go away and you get some sleep.” Her uninvited guest trailed a finger down her cheek, sending shivers radiating across her flesh. “And forgive me cheri, but you look very tired.”
“I’ve had an abysmal day. I am not in the mood for entertaining much less having a meal with someone I don’t know and who broke into my apartment and is currently threatening me.”
“I am not.”
“Yes. You are.” Sophie punctuated the words with a hard shove against his chest. To her surprise he stepped back, nimble as a cat and held his hands out wide.
It was her chance. She could slip out the door and make a run for it. If nothing else she could yell her lungs out. She knew all of her neighbors. Valorie across the hall with her five kids would call the police in a heartbeat.
But Sophie didn’t yell.
She didn’t yank the door open.
She didn’t bolt.
“What’s your name?” Sophie asked instead.
“Then we chat? Perhaps over wine?”
“No, then I check your references and perhaps we meet tomorrow for coffee.”
He laughed then; a long, inviting, warm chuckle that beckoned her to abandon caution for the sheer exhilaration of leaping.
“I am not sure what references you intend to check. Is there a database for cat burglars?”
“Is that what you are?”
“An outdated term to be certain, but I rather doubt that you will find me listed under some typical B & E reference of a library database.” His too sexy mouth twitched. He enjoyed the banter.
Call me crazy, but so am I.
“Then maybe Interpol would be a better reference point.”
“You wound me little bird. Interpol is extremely low brow for someone of my caliber.”
“And I only have your word for that.” Sophie countered.
“True.” He stepped back, giving her more space and still, Sophie didn’t make a run for it. Despite her better judgment, the Frenchman intrigued the hell out of her tired mind, arousing her curiosity. He aroused a lot more than her curiosity, but she ignored that traitorous thought.
Sophie studied the man standing in the middle of her living room. Surrounded by the muted, antique colors of soft golds and browns, he was a splash of color, vibrant, alive and very raw. The twinkle in his eyes teased her, dared her.
“Why are you here?”
“Existentially?”
“No. Physically. Here. My apartment. Why are you here?”
“Honestly?”
“Call me quirky, but I think that’s exactly what this situation calls for.”
His laughter washed over her. The corners of Sophie’s mouth tugged wider. She loved the sound of his laughter and her smile spread wider at the sound of it.
“My name is Pietr Sauvage. I am here because I need your help.”
A little about: Heather Long lives in Texas with her family and their menagerie of animals. As a child, Heather skipped picture books and enjoyed the Harlequin romance novels by Penny Jordan and Nora Roberts that her grandmother read to her. Heather believes that laughter is as important to life as breathing and that the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus are very real. In the meanwhile, she is hard at work on her next novel.
Kimberly’s Review of The Submission by Sonia Hightower
The Submission
Sonia Hightower & D.F. Krieger
The editor is always right… Katia Lane, a down on her luck writer, finds this out the hard way. When she submits an erotic tale to Daring Desires Publishing, one head strong woman meets another as an author/editor war ensues. There’s no room for a diva in the publishing industry…and Sylvia L. Avers means to demonstrate this to the fledging writer. When you submit a manuscript to Daring Desires, you submit more than a book…you submit yourself.
As a BDSM conference nears, both women prepare to face off. Which one is going to be the top space?
REVIEW PROVIDED BY: Kimberly
NUMBER OF STARS: 2 Stars
REVIEW:
The concept of this book is interesting. It takes a modern day situation of wanting to write a book and be published instead of going self-publish and puts the women in the rolls of Dom and sub. While writing the story the publisher says to the author that it is obvious that the author does not live the lifestyle of BDSM to be writing it and I couldn’t help but think that the statement was true of the real author. Besides that there is not much BDSM in the story. The story is a short read of about 50 pages and maybe if there had been more background it would have worked a little better but there seems to be very little connection between the characters other than hostility and then they are having sex. The storys concept is great and given some time and better editing (ironically) this would have been a better story.
Disclaimer:
I received a complimentary copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.
Excerpt:
Sylvia chuckled as she ran her fingers down the front of the other woman’s dress. The fabric whispered under her fingertips, reminding her of Katia’s skin. She slid her hand to the side, pausing over a breast, before tracing a finger in a circle over where she bet Kat’s nipple was. “Do you want to be spanked?” She allowed her tone to take on the husky sound that often went hand in hand with her state of horniness.
“I…” Katia licked her lips and shifted, obviously experiencing conflicting emotions. “I’m still not sure about spanking. It felt good but…”
“Shhh.” Sylvia placed a finger on the lush, pink lips that she wanted so badly to bruise with kisses. “I know what you need, Kitty Kat. I’ll make you purr.”
She took Katia’s hand and led her to the bed. The structure was large and sat high enough to give her exactly the angle she needed. With coaxing pressure, she bent Katia over the edge of the bed. Sylvia loved the way Kat’s dress flirted with the bottom of her round, firm ass. It brushed the tops of the back of her thighs like a black butterfly testing cream-colored roses.
Without warning, she laid her palm across Katia’s rear in a gentle smack. The woman emitted a soft gasp of surprise, but didn’t struggle. Pleased, Sylvia did it again and again, making each smack a little harder than the last. A part of her wished she’d brought her paddle, but another part enjoyed the silk against her palm. The way it slid higher and higher.
When she had Katia panting, Sylvia slid her hand between the sub’s thighs and inserted a finger into her pussy. “Oh my, Kitty Kat, you are a spigot down there. I’ve never met anyone who could turn the water works on like this.”
Katia’s body tensed, and Sylvia laughed as she used her free hand to slap one of the now exposed ass cheeks. The skin was a nice shade of pink that spoke of force without the risk of bruising. It made Sylvia’s own pussy wet to see how well she’d worked the BDSM virgin over. The mewls of pleasure that Katia gave with each thrust of Sylvia’s finger did nothing to stave off that desire.
“M-mistress!”
“Yes, my little bestseller?” Sylvia pushed her finger deep and held still, awaiting Katia’s next words.
“I think I understand now,” Katia said with a whimper. “I understand it isn’t about pain, but about the trust to take each other past certain boundaries.”
Sylvia shook her head. “Oh no,” she said as she inserted a second finger. “You don’t understand quite yet.”
With those words, she began pumping Katia harder. She allowed her other hand to wander to her waist, down her band, and under her panties. When she slid her finger inside of her, it was like an earthquake shook her entire body. As if sensing her orgasm, Katia screamed out as well, her pussy clenching Sylvia’s fingers.
As they stood there, panting, Sylvia removed her hand from Katia’s sopping pussy. She went to the bathroom, washed her hands off, then filled a cup with cold water. Katia sat on the edge of the bed when she walked back, looking shaken and uncertain. Sylvia handed her the water.
After Katia took a few sips, she closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Now,” Sylvia said as she caressed Kat’s cheek, “you understand.”
Blind Destiny by Shiloh Walker
Shiloh is having a giveaway over on her blog to celebrate her upcoming release of Blind Destiny
Please take the time to stop by and enter Shiloh’s giveaway and share the love~~~~
http://www.shilohwalker.com/website/from-an-angels-wing/
Blind Destiny
Grimm’s Circle #7
Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s back to hell she goes…
Myrsina knows the stories. As one of the oldest of the Grimm, she had a hand in writing most of them, but only she knows the dark origin of the Seven Bloody Sisters. It springs from the place of her birth—and her death. A place of pain and misery to which she plans to never return. Unless forced.
When Luc appears on her doorstep, her heart twists with suppressed longing for the man who can never be hers. The only man who can make her do the impossible—go home.
Luc may be blind, but through their unique, bittersweet connection, even he can see that the task laid before them is ripping Sina’s soul apart. This time it isn’t as simple as fighting a demon that has escaped from the netherplains.
Sina must go back in time—to that cursed ground—and right a wrong that she unknowingly brought about. To write a new ending to a story that may give them both a chance at happily ever after. Assuming they survive