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Tag: Book excerpt

  • Sexy Reads – Theirs to Claim

    Sexy Reads – Theirs to Claim

    While FBI special agents Gabriel McPherson and Noah Johnston are away closing in on yet another child predator, the woman they’ve secretly loved for years is home, in their small north Georgia town, dealing with the crushing weight of an unknown stalker of her own. The fiend sends Emily Matherson photos weekly, growing ever bolder over time, showing an interest that sends a clear message of need and dominance. When Gabriel and Noah finally realize what has been going on in their absence, it will become a race against time to protect Emily her own predator, while also finally claiming her and making her theirs, at long last.

    Excerpt

    Emily lay on the sofa with her eyes closed, sure that she was in bliss. Her head was in Gabriel’s lap, and he was slowly trailing his fingers through her hair. She could feel the sun’s rays on her skin, even though it was streaming in through the barrier of the window panes. Still, it was like giving a person who’d been locked in solitary confinement the keys to the prison yard. It warmed not only her skin, but also her soul.

    Noah joined them on the sofa once he’d cleaned the kitchen and he took his place at her feet. He got comfortable, settling his large frame down on the plush fabric cushions, then he slipped first one of her socks off and then the other. He lifted Emily’s left foot and began a slow massage that made her jump and open her eyes.

    “Steady,” Noah chuckled. “I know you’re ticklish, Emily. I’ll be gentle.”

    “Lie back down and close your eyes,” Gabriel said softly.

    She nodded and tried to lie still, though she couldn’t help but flinch each time Noah’s adept fingers ran across her instep. A rumble of laughter rolled through Gabriel’s chest, and she narrowed her eyes at him in return.

    “Close them, Em,” Gabriel warned in that stern tone that made shivers run down her spine.

    Emily could tell that he knew exactly what effect he was having on her when he used it, because his lips pressed into a firm line with just the tiniest hint of a smile pulling the right corner of his lips up. It made him look masterful and completely in charge. And something deep within Emily responded to that.

    “Yes, Gabriel,” she whispered. Emily dutifully closed her eyes, but not before she caught the fire that flashed in his blue eyes.

    He dug his fingers into her scalp, intensifying his massage. Taking over and letting her know he was most assuredly in charge of her for as long as she’d let him. Emily decided not to hold out on them, but to voice her response. Hadn’t Noah said he wanted to hear the words? Well, Emily thought, maybe they both wanted to hear every breathless sigh that their touch produced too.

    She tilted her head back in Gabriel’s lap and blew out a heavy breath. Her back arched and Emily pressed her right foot against Noah’s inner thigh, curling her toes just a bit. She listened intently and was rewarded when she heard him groan softly. Oh, this was so much better than watching them while she got them hot and bothered, Emily thought. She felt a little bolder with her eyes closed and she liked the freedom it won her.

    Emily slipped a hand under her t-shirt and gradually ran her palm over her stomach, then upwards towards her left breast. She circled her nipple again and again until it stood in a rigid peak and then she began to pluck at it, teasing the pleasure point until she started to squirm between them.

    Her breath came out in shallow puffs, as her hand left her breast and skated down her abdomen. She delved into her shorts and found her clitoris, rigid and alert to her touch. Noah pressed hard on her instep just as she touched her clit and cried out.

    She felt Gabriel’s hands leave her head and he clasped the hem of her shirt, then he rolled it up and off of her. Noah’s hands abandoned her foot and he reached for the button on her shorts. Emily lifted her hips when she felt him tug the garment, and soon it was a thing of the past too.

    Both men drew in an audible breath, and Emily felt sure it was because she had skipped wearing any underwear after her shower with Noah. It had just felt decadent to go without, and she liked the awareness of her body it had brought. Every time she moved, the cotton of her shirt had abraded her nipples and her shorts had rubbed her clit in such a way as to keep her constantly aroused.

    She’d said nothing throughout breakfast, but now they knew. And from the sound of their labored breathing, Emily thought that they were not disappointed by their discovery.

    “Keep your eyes closed, Emily,” Gabriel directed.

    “Yes, Gabe,” she said again, smiling as she uttered the compliant words.

    His hands covered her breasts, gently kneading the mounds and pushing them together. Noah’s fingers ran up her legs at the same time, seeking and getting closer to her own hand. He clasped her wrist and slid her hand down to her side. Ever so slowly, Noah pushed her thighs apart.

    Emily arched up again as she felt Gabriel pinch her nipples and Noah blow warm air across her pussy. She reached for them, her left hand colliding with the solid wall of Gabriel’s chest. But Noah was just out of reach. He halted her seeking fingers midair and placed her right hand back down on the sofa, tapping her wrist and letting her know she was to keep it there.

    “Guys…” she panted, suddenly needing to see them, to connect with them in some other way.

    “Shhh,” Gabriel corrected her. “Eyes closed or we stop.”

    Emily whimpered, but nodded. She had started this, but quickly lost control of the game. And now they were going to finish it. Or her, she thought ruefully.

    But she trusted them, and she needed this. Needed to let go of all the worry and anxiety that had plagued her life for over eight weeks. And if ever there were others who knew her needs, inside and out, it was Gabriel and Noah.

    She’d grown up fast, dealing with the loss of her parents and then her grandparents. And though she’d had Gabriel and Noah to lean on, Emily had never had them like this. Not really. Not as her partners and her lovers. Never shared what they could now.

    Yes, Emily said to herself, it was time for someone else to make the decisions.

    So, she drew in a deep breath and gave herself over to their care. She gave herself over to the moment and with her surrender, Emily found true freedom. The kind of freedom she hadn’t experienced not just in the last two months, but in all of her twenty-three years.

    Gabriel stopped breathing the moment Emily’s body went soft and yielding. He had never analyzed why he liked control in the bedroom. Never acknowledged that darker edge of what he really craved, yet had not explored with another. He’d never felt comfortable taking the reins in such a way, for fear that the few brief partners he’d had would think he was overbearing, unfeeling, or uncaring.

    But in that one glorious second, he got it. As if someone had just dropped an anvil on his thick head. It wasn’t about control at all. It was surrender. For them both.

    He watched all of the tension and worry leave Emily’s brow, the lines easing away. Her breathing calmed and her muscles relaxed. It was a supreme moment of trust. And that was the key. It was all about trust. The reason why he’d never felt for another, what he did for Emily. He’d never trusted them enough or himself to let them in, or to truly let go.

    God, he loved this woman. Loved that he could be himself with her, without fear that Emily didn’t want what he was offering. He could be a cranky bastard at times, he knew. But normally Emily would just chuckle at his bluster and give him such a sweet and honest smile. One that reached her eyes – one that came from her heart.

    It was the same smile that now graced her lips as she lay there stretched out between him and Noah, completely giving them her body. Her heart. A lifetime of her love. Her everything.

    Trust was a two-way street, and Gabriel knew he’d never gotten what it was all about, like he did in that one moment.

    Gabriel’s eyes lifted from Emily’s body to meet Noah’s gaze, and he saw the same shock and reverence reflected there. Noah arched an eyebrow at him, and cocked his head to the side, his fingers no longer exploring her delicate folds. Gabe knew that Noah realized the significance of the moment too, and was just as committed to not destroying the trust Emily had just placed squarely in their hands.

    With a slow nod from Gabriel, they began again. But this time, with a totally different objective. This was no fast race to completion. This was slow, sensual love-making at their direction.

    Continue reading Theirs to Claim at the following link:

    http://www.amazon.com/Theirs-Claim-Predatory-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B00VLIGZ1S

    Image courtesy of Diana McKinley

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  • Sexy Reads – Dai’s Dark Valentine

    Sexy Reads – Dai’s Dark Valentine

    What happens when a sheltered cat-shifter and a dark fey come together? Born in 18th Century France, Daitre is a beautiful, naïve heiress whose true heritage has been kept secret, even from her, but now that her abilities are emerging, her father’s enemies want her dead. When Joban, professional guard and dark fey, agrees to marry her, he whisks her three-hundred years into the future, but their enemies have followed – more deadly than ever.

    Dais Dark Valentine Cover 1400x1960

    Excerpt

    “Breathe, Dai! You’re forgetting the first thing I taught you. Where’s your head today? Were you not standing next to me when Auriel said our enemies are not only murdering us at will, but capturing and doing studies on us?”

    Daitre lowered her arm and replaced the gun’s safety. She took an anxious breath. Since their brief moment several days ago, he’d seldom looked at her, distancing himself whenever she tried to get his attention for anything other than training.

    “Am I training you too hard? You’ve done well all week. What’s different today?”

    “Stop yelling at me! I’m just tired. Don’t you think I’m already scared enough? Do you think I want to be murdered, captured, treated like a lab rat? We’ve gone from two times a day to three times a day, I’m running, sparring, you’ve taught me to pick a lock, jump-start a car, and I’ve learned to use every weapon on that table of yours in just over a week. You told me yourself I learned so fast I must be a natural, but I need more than training to live. I need more than survival training. I’m human, Joban, and you seem to forget that…you always have.”

    “Everything I do is to keep you safe, Dai, and you are not human. Time is not—”

    She turned swiftly, put the gun back in its place on the table, then left the basement without another word. Once again, he missed the point. She needed his attention, his acceptance, his love.

    Screaming in her head demanded she return to him, follow his instructions, do whatever she needed to please him, but her instincts won out when she reminded herself that more of the same on her part would produce more of the same from him, and she desperately needed something different.

    Daitre stepped into the bedroom bath and dashed cold water on her face to keep from crying, Auriel’s words running through her mind. The fear of being captured, poked and prodded by her father’s enemies haunted her.

    She hit the light switch, stepping out of the bathroom with every intention of going straight to her bed for a much needed nap, but as she passed his make-shift bed, she couldn’t help stopping. Daitre sat, tentative at first, but the deafening silence in the room urged her on.

    She lifted his pillow to her face and rested her cheek against it, his cinnamon and woods scent prompting her to inhale deeply, eyes closed. The mere scent of him triggered a reaction in her body, causing her to stretch, savoring the pleasant tingle zinging straight to her clit and flashing outward again, a delicious warmth infusing her body – arousal.

    She dropped the pillow and jumped up, eyes wide. Joban stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable until his mouth covered hers. She knew he’d used his time-bending ability because she hadn’t seen him move. One moment he watched her embarrassing display from the doorway, the next he was on her, his huge arms wrapped around her waist, lips claiming hers.

    Her mind raced but her body responded on instinct, clinging to him, writhing to be free of every and anything separating her from him. As if he heard her plea, Joban released her long enough to respond in his usual dictatorial manner.

    “Take these off.” He used his eyes to stress his meaning, stoking her fire with a head to toe gaze, stormy gray depths offering a glimpse of yet another side of him she longed to explore further. She removed her dress with one hand, the other in contact with him at all times, sliding along his torso, tracing his Adam’s apple, gliding around to the muscles at his back. She’d wanted to touch him like this for so long. Now that she had access, she didn’t dare let go, fearful he’d change his mind.

    Finally, she stood before him naked, grateful for the scarcity of clothing women of this time wore, skin burning as her inner lioness pressed outward, raring to pounce. Joban bent just enough to wrap his forearms around her thighs and lifted her from the floor as he stood, her head and shoulders above his.
    Her lioness stretched against him, placing her hands on his broad, muscular shoulders to brace herself.

    Joban wrapped one arm under her buttocks and placed the other hand at her back to support her, sliding his tongue around her belly button and dipping it inside before allowing her to glide down his torso, her long legs wrapping around his waist automatically as she reached eye level again.
    He carried her to the bed and gently placed her in the center, his knee between her thighs.

    He rose and removed his T-shirt, angry red tribal tattoos making him even more irresistible, drawing an inner roar from her jungle cat.

    She brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, always just a little too long in the front, and he caught her wrist, lifting it to his lips to place a kiss on the inside.
    Daitre raised her other hand to frame his face, prominent cheekbones and hard, masculine jawline giving at her touch, his entire body heated, coiled, and she lay back, satisfied in knowing he would take complete control. Her cat purred, pleased for once.

    Joban did not disappoint, leaning down to nip her neck and shoulders, then blazing a path of tiny circles with his tongue from the tiny hollow between her breasts to her trembling navel, hungry for his invasion again. The texture of his tongue on her soft skin burned, the sensation new and exciting, like wet, fine sandpaper, preparing her, molding her.

    His movements pierced the intense silence, the wispy sounds of crisp sheets, skin sliding against skin, and her gaze fell on the tiny nuances of his muscular back, every movement, every vibration increasing her need to feel him inside her, thick and hard like the rest of his overpowering body.

    She understood the intensity and nature of her desire for him in that moment. She wanted to be consumed by him, taken passionately, thoroughly, something she’d never imagined let alone wanted before she met him.

    Read more about Dai’s Dark Valentine from Dariel Raye at the follow links:

    Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo | Smashwords

    Dai’s Dark Valentine Trailer

    Image courtesy of Dariel Raye

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  • Sexy Reads – Katie in Love

    Sexy Reads – Katie in Love

    After Katie Boyd meets the young volunteer doctor Tom Bridge at a party, the sex is intimate, passionate, life-changing. When Katie in the coming weeks feels as if she is falling in love, she is not certain that it is what she wants. Her reflections on life, friends, education, her tastes in music and literature, is a search for who she is and where life might lead if she follows him to Sri Lanka where Tom runs an orphanage.

    Excerpt

    If you add the shadow of death to a moment of passion you are in that instant free of all normal ties, your mind grows still and your body enters a state of non-being. Pleasure and pain, sex and death, yin and yang are mismatched twins, two fish each containing the eye of its opposite.

    I wrote that sentence before my morning appointment with the doctor. It means nothing in isolation but I awoke with those words in my head and committed them to paper – the keyboard, the monitor. The winter is cold, bleak, colourless. There are no clouds, no sky, just a grey blanket like a shroud lowering over London.

    The little finger on my right hand has a fracture. It is painful. The doctor spent a long time with my hand like a song bird nursed in his palm, his shirt cuff clipped with an onyx link, the gold face of his watch gripped by the strap nesting in a hairy wrist. Broken fingers are oddly intimate.

    ‘You do look pale,’ he said.

    ‘Yes, I noticed in the mirror.’

    ‘Are you sick?’

    ‘Yes…’

    He squeezed my good fingers. ‘Do you want to tell me?’

    I sighed. ‘I write, you know, books…’

    ‘Ah,’ he replied.

    He nodded wisely. He understood. Writing is a sickness, an ailment, an addiction. When I’m not writing, I’m thinking about what I have written that day and, when I do go to bed, I lie sleeplessly thinking about what I am going to write when I get up and start again the following day.

    I am a night person, an insomniac, the girl at the bar who looks like she should have gone home and maybe has no home to go to. A false image I cultivate. I am thin, theoretically attractive, in an abstract sort of way. I have hollow cheeks, high cheekbones, long legs, perhaps too thin, lips dry with cold, clotted with gloss. I have stopped being promiscuous and compose my work in the dead hours between two and six while London sleeps and the night planes follow the Thames into Heathrow carrying businessmen and migrants hoping to make it in the greatest city on earth. When you are bored with London you are bored with life. That’s what it says along the side of the number 19 bus Mother takes to Peter Jones.

    When I do sleep, I sleep badly, in spite of the magnets under my mattress that are supposed to orientate my body north to south so the lay lines and dragon lines pass through the invisible portal at the top of my skull and down to my feet, my best feature, I would soon be told.

    I have worked as a tutor, in marketing, and for a women’s magazine, which involved writing captions for interiors and combat with photographers fixated on depth and apertures. Regular working doesn’t suit me, it interferes with writing, and now I earn my rent as a waitress at corporate events where the high priests of the City banks congratulate themselves by drinking buckets of champagne and falling over. The change of job meant a dip in my salary, so I moved, from West London, where rents cost the earth, to East London, where the cost is broken streets, a fall and a fractured finger.

    It was the finger that saved my life.

    The story begins on New Year’s Eve. Having dumped Julian, an actor with floppy hair and lots of good teeth, I went with a girlfriend I don’t particularly like to a tartan-themed charity ball in a kilt too short and my little finger bound to its partner in blue tape. There is something oddly poignant going to a ball with another woman and she must have felt the same way, abandoning me, as she did, for the first hairy-kneed faux Scotsman to say och aye the noo over the long candle-lit table.

    After dinner consisting of haggis, which I didn’t eat, I danced alone on the fringes of the swaying crowd like a stray swallow chasing the migrating flock.

    A man appeared.

    They usually do.

    Men in the 21st century are no longer hunter gatherers. They are game players, artists, sculptors. They see me across the rainbow of fiesta lights as a blank canvas requiring their signature in a gooey splash of scribbled jism; a column of alabaster that needs to be reshaped, their sculpting hands eager to rid me of my clothes and go to work with their carving tools. I could be perfect, just perfect, if I only gave them the chance. The man, this shimmying shaking dancer, is wearing tartan socks, plus fours, like a lost golfer, and a Tam o’Shanter that gives him the earthy, intense look of Che Guevara.

    ‘Dance?’

    ‘I am dancing?’ I answered.

    ‘That’s not dancing, it’s just moving about.’

    ‘I have a bad finger.’

    ‘Not a very good kilt either.’

    I liked him immediately. I can’t stand men who say nice things as they push back their floppy hair.

    ‘Drink?’

    ‘That’s very generous of you, seeing how the bar’s free.’

    We drank whisky.

    ‘Twelve year old malt,’ he said.

    ‘You know about those things?’

    ‘No. I’m just flirting with you.’

    ‘Honesty can be very unattractive,’ I said and he shrugged.

    ‘I know, it’s so hard to do the right thing.’

    ‘Or know what it is.’

    He tossed back his drink. So did I. He refilled the glasses. My eyes prickled as I swallowed the fiery fluid and the band silenced before a drum roll. A man leapt on the stage, the skirts of his kilt like a sail, and announced in a Highland accent…

    ‘Twenty seconds…’ He looked at his watch, paused, then counted backwards: ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…’

    And we kissed.

    Continue reading Katie in Love by Chloe Thurlow at:

    Link for Amazon downloads – http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00S1SMMIG

    Link for Amazon books – http://bookgoodies.com/a/1503014908

    Image courtesy of Chloe Thurlow

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  • Sexy Reads – Sated

    Sexy Reads – Sated

    Sated is a dark MMFM paranormal romance with scenes some may find disturbing. After a sizzling night with a rock star, Arbor finds herself trapped in a world that no longer feels real. In a desperate hunt for answers, she seeks the help of Detective Trey Murphy, the man in charge of ritualistic crime in the New Orleans area.

    SATED WITH SEAL

    Excerpt

    “Can I buy you a drink?”

    “No, thank you.”

    Killian was fascinated by the scene playing out across the bar. He’d had one eye glued on the tiny blonde since she walked through the door. If there was one detail he could point to in order to explain his captivation, it was that she didn’t fit in. Thank God. Her innocence was almost tangible when set next to the other occupants of the hardcore gothic club.

    “How about I just sit with you, then?”

    “No, thank you.”

    Killian leaned forward in his seat, even going as far as to set his elbow on the bar and cup his chin—openly staring. Not only was she not giving the guy the time of day, she hadn’t as much as glanced in his direction to see if she might be interested. On the other hand, the dude couldn’t seem to look away from her. That made two of them. Killian was engrossed.

    “Are you sure? You’re going to need someone to walk you out. This is kind of a rough joint.” It was. Killian would know.

    “I’m sure. Have a nice night.”

    He really wanted her to look. The guy was hot, possibly the best of the lot. She had at least three women staring at her with open malice simply because the guy was talking to her. Showing a determination that impressed Killian, the dude braced one hand on the wooden surface beside him and one on the back of her chair, boxing the woman in. The invasion of her personal space forced her to acknowledge his presence. As if it were possible, Killian stared even harder. He was almost afraid to blink in case he missed her reaction to seeing who she’d been ignoring. She turned her head, meeting the man’s gaze. Not a single ounce of emotion marred her features as she eyed the guy’s blond hair, dark eyes, and muscles flexing on her behalf. The dude smiled. It was slow and obviously practiced. A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth and straight white teeth gleamed even in the darkly lit club.

    “I’m married.”

    Killian chuckled. “Liar.”

    She turned in his direction, meeting his gaze as if she’d heard him. Light-green eyes flashed wickedly. Her mouth turned up in one corner, as if competing with her gaze for top mischief-maker. Goddamn. No wonder the dude wouldn’t leave her be.

    “So what?” The boy-toy’s response pulled her focus back his way. Killian caught himself lifting up in his chair as if he meant to physically reclaim her attention.

    “There are two women sitting behind me who’d love what you’re offering. Enough to share,” she tacked on in an obvious attempt to sweeten the deal. Killian glanced behind her. Yep. There were. The dude didn’t look, but he did straighten away.

    “They’re a sad substitute for you.”

    A hint of a smile touched her lips. “But a substitute nonetheless. Have fun.” If she’d meant her dismissal to lure the man in further, making him want her more, then she’d succeeded. It was written all over the guy’s face. However, he did give in.

    “If you change your mind…”

    “I know where you’ll be.” She didn’t bother softening the blow with another smile. Killian was on his feet, pushing his way through the crowd and intent on reaching her before the dust settled in Mr. Studly’s tracks. He saw her chin tilt in the direction of where he’d been sitting, but he couldn’t see her face. He almost changed his mind. In the end, his greed won out, as always.

    Killian didn’t give her time to deny him the way she had the other guy. Instead, he braced his hands against the edge of the bar on either side of her, caging her in. With her pinned in place, he nodded at the bartender to bring her another drink. She didn’t tense or turn her head as he crowded her body, inhaling her sweet scent and speaking against her ear.

    “You should’ve taken his offer. It wasn’t a bad deal.”

    *

    A chill raced down Arbor’s spine, circling her body to tighten the muscles in her stomach and moisten her panties. Clenching her back teeth against the moan rising in her throat, she tilted her chin, bringing his face into view. Holy hot eyeliner. He was smoking. She’d never seen a man in eyeliner except for TV shows. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected it to be so goddamn sexy. It turned out that when it coated sky-blue eyes that were attached to a chiseled face, she was on board. As she focused on his lips, which were heaven sent, she realized she hadn’t responded.

    “I found his offer unappealing.”

    “Why?”

    “Because he doesn’t have sleeve tattoos and your English accent,” she almost answered. Unfortunately, in her attempt not to say it, she ended up blurting out something worse. “I have no desire to spend my night waiting for some man to leave so I can masturbate.”

    He didn’t as much as blink. “What if I told you I could guarantee he wouldn’t have left you hanging?”

    She lifted one shoulder. “I’m still not interested.”

    “Why?”

    This was—by far—the oddest conversation she’d ever experienced. She couldn’t stop. “There’s a difference between satisfied and sated. A subtle yet powerful difference. I want to be sated.” His lashes lowered until he watched her with a hooded gaze. An image of being on her knees as he took her hard from behind flashed across her mind. It was so vivid she almost pressed her knees together. Her body was burning. Even the brush of her clothing against her skin made her want to scream. A drink appeared in front of her, breaking the spell. The man working the bar disappeared before she had time to argue. Not to mention, any thought of doing so vanished as she watched one of the hands caging her in move toward her. His palm flattened against her chest, right under her collarbone, hitting the bare skin above her V-neck shirt. Her heart slammed against it. His fiery touch was innocent and undemanding. She wanted to obey his corruption. Her channel pulsed. His mouth touched the shell of her ear.

    “We’ll see how much you mean those words. Enjoy your drink.” His muscles tensed. She knew he was going to move away.

    “I’m Arbor,” she said before he could get away.

    “Arbor,” he breathed, sounding like the wickedest of sinners and the holiest rendition.

    Continue reading the rest of Sated by Charity Pakerson at the following links:

    AMAZON KINDLE US – http://amzn.to/1u4QuZW

    AMAZON KINDLE CA – http://bit.ly/SATEDCA

    AMAZON KINDLE UK – http://bit.ly/SATEDUK

    AMAZON PAPERBACK – http://amzn.to/1IZVi9W

    AUDIBLE: http://bit.ly/SatedAudio

    BARNES & NOBLES PAPERBACK – http://bit.ly/1zdtv0P

    Image courtesy of Charity Pakerson

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  • Sexy Reads – The Para-Portage of Emily

    Sexy Reads – The Para-Portage of Emily

    Emily Macque, a young, beautiful junior partner in her father’s law firm, is but a heartbeat away from love or destiny. Duty brings Emily to a frozen Island estate two hundred and fifty miles north of Chicago. Devotion requires she delve into the property history to settle an estate probate. Death lures her into the arms of the shadows seduction created by the flickering light and dark shadows.

    What flames the timeless passions spanning the decades? Love, desire or obsession?

    Colin Jorgenson, once a Great Lakes mariner, is a strong man haunted by love and loss. How long will he return each night, gripped by desire, hoping to find the woman he has loved for a century?

    Beneath the pristine Island beauty, passions hungered, lingered in the ardent darkness. His passions, fueled by decades of loneliness and longing, could no longer be denied. Will they face eternity together or love in secret as dark things are to be loved between the shadows and the soul?

    Excerpt

    She whispered his name on the cusp of a plea for him to fill her, fulfill her, complete her as she rode the ribbons of heated release in his embrace. If not for him, she would never know the pleasure of such love, to be loved and adored, revered and honored by his love. Colin slipped fully between the legs of his ladylove and ran his hands full on the length of her sides, under her full and quivering buttocks allowing his fingertips to slip delicately trickling one by one into the crack that separated the alabaster orbs until they dabbled in the warm wetness of her welcome.

    He changed position of his hands and raised the soft wet mound where her legs joined and put the treasure to his mouth as he parted the velveteen petals of her pride with his thumbs. He watched as she squirmed at the open display of her womanhood. He pulled the hood back from her erect and engorged clit then sucked it into his mouth as he rolled it between his teeth lightly, but insistently. He held her up to his face and mouth preventing her from any movement of her own.

    Amalya’s whispers became moans which increased in volume and frequency until she was begging Colin to fuck her with all his might. She rode his face and pumped his head with her iron-fisted grasp of his hair, but he would not relent. He sucked and probed her pussy with his tongue and fingers until she was screaming with the same frequency as her breasts flagged her waves of response.

    “Let go, my love. Let me taste your love and bounty. Let me drink from your fountain of life and only then will I give you what you want.”

    Amalya rose up on her shoulders, unable to resist the flicking and pressure from his skillful tongue, his beard framing her most private abundance and she lost her control completely, screaming her release and requited passions into his mouth. Colin buried his face hard against her pussy as his mouth openly kissed her full flared lips and she came in waves of pure gold come as she emptied her love into his waiting lips. When the last wave left her body limp, Colin slid up her body, her legs caught on his chest by his arms and he kissed her deeply, lovingly as he slid easily past her heightened button and into her eagerly awaiting vulva so warm and wet.

    Amalya felt Colin go into her deeply, so deep she felt the head of his cock slam the top of her vagina. He stopped, fully in her, filling her completely with his manhood and passion and she felt the pounding of his heartbeat, the pulse of his life, in the head of his cock buried inside her. It was like a fuse that touched off a series of explosions and contractions that sent her totally over the top, panting, begging, pleading, promising, praying for relief. And when it came, it was in uncontrollable gripping torrents of searing volcanic eruptions that scorched and ignited his response. Tonight, she would not taste of him; tonight she would feel him fill her with his molten seed. Tonight she would feel the head of his cock twitch against the heart of her soul with each spurt of his fervor, filling her with his need and sated passions. Tonight, he would warm her for hours—he would stay with her, heating her from the inside as their passions ebbed to embers.

    Oh, how she loved this man! What pleasure he brought her. And to think, she fell in love with him when she was a child, the moment she saw him. She could never have known, when she was but a slip of a girl of ten, what this man who shipped for her father would do to her a decade later. She could never know what was in store for her body, for her life, for her heart with this wonderful man who had waited for her to grow into a woman. It was not until she was fifteen that she learned from her father that he promised her to Colin when she was twelve. When she turned sixteen, Colin started to ‘court’ her on his trips up the Saint Lawrence Seaway when he stopped at the Port of Montreal, where she lived, to pick up goods from Europe his clients arranged for him to transport on his ship.

    She could never have known what awaited her in his arms. But, she did find out, with eager regularity. And she reveled in her journey into his life and his bed. The first time she ever saw him, he was talking to her father on their warehouse dock, which was a bustle of maritime activity between deck hands, dock men and crates, goods, food and bundles carts and angle irons and donkeys,. She ducked behind a bale where she would watch him unnoticed. Her heart fluttered whenever she was in his presence or he was near. He was much older by a dozen or so years, but it had not mattered to her—Amalya was in love.

    And she loved him more now, more than ever. Her heart seemed to grow and swell every time he kissed her. It had been ten years since they wed and while their lovemaking never diminished, she felt a shallow longing for the child they had not yet conceived. But, every time it was like this with him, just like this, Amalya thought. This is the time our love was too strong and powerful this time.

    She lay, now in his arms, her head on his broad, clean chest and sighed, thinking the same thing she always thought after their beautifully satisfying lovemaking waned. She would live to love him no matter if there be children or not. Whatever was God’s will Amalya did not question, because she was otherwise completely fulfilled and happy beyond all measure.

    She sighed in his arms as he held her close, whispering her name into the flickering shadows created by the dancing flames of light and dark. The beard on his chin brushed against her forehead as he spoke of his love for her.

    “This time, my beloved, this time. I know we have created a son to share our love with and bring into this world of ours. You need not ever worry that you will not realize your destiny, because tonight my love, tonight you have. I know it.”

    Purchase the rest of The Para-Portage of Emily at the following links or under Muffy Wilson’s bio below:

    Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Muffy-Wilson/e/B00O54A9EY

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    Image courtesy of Muffy Wilson

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  • Sexy Reads – The Adventures of Cole and Perry

    Sexy Reads – The Adventures of Cole and Perry

    It all started when Cole met Perry in a bar. Over three years they had some exciting adventures, and misadventures. The six stories included in this book are all about their journey from bar to wedding. The stories included are The Anniversary, The Fight, The Threesome, The House, The Baby, and The Wedding.

    Excerpt:

    The ringing of the phone jarred Cole out of his silent contemplation of his apartment wall. Afraid of the outcome of the call, Cole had been dreading this moment all evening. If he didn’t answer then he wouldn’t get his hopes crushed. Again. Every time they made important plans, the arrangements got postponed or cancelled all together. This was the most important night for their relationship. If he didn’t hear the words he needed to hear then it was over.

    A second ring brought Cole back to reality. On the small chance it was good news he would never know if he never picked up. One big breath in and he grabbed the phone to find out what came next.

    “Yeah?” Cole’s voice was monotone, his lack of enthusiasm came out loud and clear. He wasn’t in the mood for pointless greetings or to dance around the subject. If only his boyfriend would get straight to the point.

    “Hey, baby. I know you were excited to go out tonight for our anniversary but we’re going to have to reschedule. I’m stuck in a meeting and won’t be home until late.”

    Cole let out his breath in a huge gust and slumped his shoulders. He didn’t have to wait for a response any longer. The future of his relationship would be very different than what he expected at the beginning of the night. Cole was thankful the last time he’d hear those words happened tonight. All of his feelings jumbled up inside of him. Part of Cole couldn’t help but be relieved to at least know. The nervous part of Cole took up the largest part of his emotions.

    “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you later.”

    “I love you, Cole. Are you–”

    “I know, baby. I’m okay. I’ll see you later,” Cole interrupted. He didn’t want to hear his boyfriend’s excuses or justifications. Nothing his boyfriend said could change anything now. What happened next was already set in motion. He only wanted to get off the phone so he could get dressed.

    Cole placed the phone back on the charging station without saying goodbye. He hung his head and closed his eyes. He loved his boyfriend so much. Two years together and it all came down to tonight. Cole hoped Perry knew what the phone call meant for their relationship. Now he just had to get ready to go out to the bar.

    Continue The Adventures of Cole and Perry at:

    Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SC6RNLS

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    Image courtesy of Amanda C. Stone

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  • Sexy Reads – Untouchable

    Sexy Reads – Untouchable

    Untouchable: Wealthy, Washington DC attorney, Carson Drake, is fascinated by public relations princess, London Chantelle. But hidden secrets and workplace conspiracy could crush this alpha male’s special weekend and his only chance at real love.

    Excerpt

    Carson herded London toward the private rooms. She stopped short when they reached a gothic-arched doorway.

    “Where are we going?” she asked.

    “Someplace more quiet.”

    “What if I don’t want to?”

    “Then you don’t have to.” He dropped his hold on her waist.

    “Just talking?”

    “Yes. Witnesses saw us leave. You’re safe.”

    She let Carson pull her through the massive door, held open by a bodyguard. He moved them down an expansive hallway. Only after ushering her inside the last door at the end did he let go of her elbow. She immediately crossed her arms.

    “It’s okay, sugar. I’m not going to hurt you.”

    “I’m meeting someone.”

    “Oh?”

    “Yes, so I can’t stay long.” She worked her bottom lip and shuffled her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes also darted to the bed in the corner. Perhaps she thought he’d take her right away? She knew his identity. She should know he was committed to due diligence. And he had to know why she was here—the last place on earth he’d expect London Chantelle.

    He sat in one of two cushioned chairs set before a lit fireplace. He appreciated her luscious curves, beautifully illuminated by the amber glow of the low fire.

    “Sit.” He beckoned her to join him.

    “I like standing.”

    “Sit.” The commanding tones of a Dom brought the expected result. As she lowered herself into the chair, her ponytail licked one shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful in this light,” he said. “More golden brown than I noticed before.”

    She swallowed. “Thank you, um . . . I go by Tatiana.”

    “It doesn’t suit you. Why not go with, say . . . London?”

    Her mouth dropped to an “O” in alarm, and she leapt from her seat.

    “Sit. Down.” He pointed to the chair.

    “Please.” Her hazel eyes implored lenience, and her tone of voice surprised him. He liked the beseeching quality. It was quite a departure from her customary unadulterated demand.

    “Please what? You thought a simple mask and change of clothing meant I wouldn’t recognize you?”

    “I hoped . . . maybe . . . I can’t do this.”

    Before she could complete two steps, he’d risen from his chair and laid his hand on her shoulder. She stopped. He pressed his torso against her back, sending her firm ass into his crotch. He decided to like her stiletto boots. He was a tall man and they made her the perfect height. He waited to see if she’d object, at which point he’d back off. She didn’t move.

    Carson pulled off the elastic holding her hair captive. A curtain of gold-laced chestnut silk cascaded free. He brushed her mane to one side and bared her shoulder. “That’s better.”

    Her breathing sped up. “You said just talking.”

    “Still, sweetness.” He inhaled her scent of Ivory soap and cinnamon Christmas cookies before stepping backward. “We are talking.”

    She twisted to face him. “Carson, please . . .”

    He liked how her emotions turned in an instant. She’d test his abilities to direct her psychology in a scene. He nearly laughed at himself. How quickly I have her bound and pleasured in my mind. “There. Now that’s a start. I rather like you begging me.”

    “I don’t beg.”

    And there goes that chin. “We’ll see.” He took another step back. His instincts told him she wouldn’t bolt.

    “Take a seat, London.” Carson returned to his chair. “When you do, hands in your lap. After you listen to me you can decide if you wish to leave. It will be your choice.”

    London hesitated, then nestled her behind onto the chair opposite him. She placed her hands in her lap. The thumb of one hand worked the palm of the other.

    “Take off your mask. Show me your pretty face.”

    London took a deep breath as her elegant fingers slipped off her disguise, pulling the fastening ribbon through her perfect hair. He wanted to capture her cheeks in his hands. He’d rub off the mask indents and erase the worry imprinted on her forehead.

    “How long have you been without a master?” he asked.

    “I-I’m not . . .” Her jawline hardened. “It’s none of your business.”

    “That’s a shame. I’m good at business.” His mouth broke into a smile at the thought of bending her over her desk, papers sticking to her bared breasts, pens falling to the floor. He’d smack her ass with that leather portfolio she carried around like a shield. He wouldn’t stop until her engraved initials imprinted her skin.

    “Why did you bring me here?” she whispered.

    “You’re looking for a Dom. I’m a Dom looking for a sub.”

    She flinched at his final word. “What do you want, Carson?”

    What I want. Did it matter? He’d given up what he wanted long ago—a spirited submissive who matched his desires. Someone who might actually stick with him and not drop him the minute a better offer came through. He didn’t allow himself to think finding such a woman was possible anymore.

    “Time. Willingness. Pleasure.” Carson folded his hands and laid his chin on his knuckles. “Now, I want to know what you want.”

    “No, you don’t.”

    Carson raised an eyebrow. “Toying with me will not get you anywhere, sweetness.”

    “Isn’t that what you are doing with me?”

    “Hardly.” Carson let silence take over the space.

    “Then what?” she whispered after long minutes.

    “Patience will be your first lesson tonight. Then I’ll consider you.”

    “Consider me?” She gave him a hardened, fuck-off look.

    “Yes. Last time. What do you want?”

    He let a few seconds tick by. Then he stood. “If you won’t tell me why you’re here, what you seek, then I can’t help.”

    “I-I didn’t mean . . . it isn’t easy . . .”

    “You must answer my questions when I ask them. No delay. It’s for your safety and mine.”

    Her lips pursed, her signal she realized she was losing. Her sassiness had its usual alluring appeal—futile, but adorable. She licked her bottom lip, the subtle move urging him forward.

    “Stand,” he said.

    She stood cautiously.

    “What is your safeword?” he asked.

    “Excuse me? A-a scene. With you? You’re a client. If anything ever got back—”

    “Then we would both lose. And I don’t lose.”

    “No, You take what you want and damn the consequences.”

    “London.” Carson walked toward her and she backed around the chair. “What are you afraid of? Afraid you might get what you want? Experience what you’ve longed for?”

    She let out a huff, but continued to retreat as Carson advanced. He sent her in a backward circle until she closed in on the canopied bed. Yes, most definitely submissive. The urge to discover how deep her desires ran raged through him like a brushfire.

    “How would you know what I long for?” Her haughty chin jutted out.

    “I want to know, London. Tell me.”

    “Why?” She’d backed up until she connected with the bedpost.

    “Fair question. And one I’ll answer. Given you and I dance well together at the boardroom table, why wouldn’t we here? Had I known your proclivities I might have offered. Why didn’t you come to me before?” How had he missed her signs?

    “B-but you hate me.”

    Now he was puzzled. “No, I don’t. You sometimes . . . irritate, but I could never hate you. Surely you noticed my tendencies.”

    “Being a bully in a boardroom does not make you a Dominant I’d be interested in.”

    “Ouch, London. That hurt.” Carson slapped his chest above his heart but kept his face stony.

    “I didn’t think you could feel pain.”

    “Everyone feels pain.” Her lips parted when he closed the last inch of distance between them. His thighs touched hers, and he softened his voice. “It pleases me you’re here. There’s no use in fighting this chemistry.” Carson hooked a thumb on his waistband. “One weekend.”

    “With you?”

    “Yes.”

    “What will you do with your harem?”

    He unbuckled his belt. “Your second lesson. Don’t force discipline with a smart mouth.”

    “I don’t have that kind of time.” She raised her impertinent jawline—again.

    Lesson three: discipline your haughty chin.

    “Not enough time to learn discipline or not enough time, in general?” The loud rasp of leather yanked through his belt loops sent her attention to his torso.

    “What are you doing?” Her panicked gaze shot to his face.

    “I don’t have a collar on me.”

    “I am wholly disinterested in being collared.”

    “One weekend, London.” He grasped one of her hips with his free hand. “If you’re disappointed at any time, you can walk. I’ll never speak of it again. Our work together will go unaffected. No one—and I mean no one—but us will know.”

    “Would you put that in writing?” Her eyes filled with mischief.

    Priceless. London lured him toward a lightning storm. He could play. Hell, nothing appealed in the moment more than a weekend playing with London. Yes, this is what he wanted. Now he needed to know if she was willing.

    “I’ll do one better.” He snaked the belt around her waist until the leather rested against her hips.

    “I’m not a notch on a belt.”

    “You could never be a notch, London Chantelle. You’re the whole belt, sugar.”

    Her face softened, and the playfulness in her eyes died. He recognized the deliberation behind them, the wonder if she’d be safe, here and at work. London needn’t have worried. She might get scared, but mutual satisfaction was the only way his brand of sexual fulfillment worked.

    “Say yes or no.” He pressed his torso to her corseted body, the last space between her body and his obliterated. “But say yes.”

    “What will happen if I say yes?”

    “What you want.  What you’ve probably always wanted.”

    Her eyes misted with a surprising vulnerability. “Yes.”

    Don’t wait further to find out what happens next.  Purchase the rest of the book here:

    Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00V8CZ3KG

    Note: pre-order discount price of $2.99 is available until June 2015.

    Image courtesy of Elizabeth SaFleur

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  • Sexy Reads – F.L.E.S.H.

    Sexy Reads – F.L.E.S.H.

    As the owner of a small, struggling dance school in a depressed neighborhood Fuchsia Quinn supplements her income with a late night job at a dive bar. Peyton Lang, having run from a bad neighborhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire. After a lusty night with a hot pole dancer, Peyton and Fuchsia’s worlds are about to collide.

    Excerpt

    When the cab stopped, Big Tipper handed the driver some bills, thanked him, and held the door open for her. Just outside the hotel’s front entrance, he touched her elbow and stopped. “You know, before we do this, we really should be introduced. Keeping with the anonymity thing we’ve got going on, what should I call you.”

    “My stage name is Flame.”

    A sexy grin crossed his mouth. “Oh yeah. You got that right. Hot. Flaming hot.

    “And you? ‘Cause I’ve been calling you Big Tipper and sorry, I know that’s rude.

    “No. I think the big is fine. Let’s see. How about Pete?”

    Flame smiled. “Hello, Pete.”

    Pete stepped forward. The doors slid open. The receptionist behind the desk gazed sleepily at a small TV. Flame guessed a car chase scene from the sounds of gun fire and screeching tires.

    After registering for the room and paying with a credit card, Pete held out the key card and led her toward the elevator. Once inside, she asked, “Which floor?”

    “Penthouse suite. Top floor.”

    She rolled her eyes. “There’s only six floors. And I doubt this place has a penthouse.” She leaned on the back wall. Pete stood next to her. It felt like fire poured from his body. Her head swam. The lurch of the elevator stopping didn’t help the dizziness building in her.

    It was all she could do to not rip her clothes off and jump on him. Each step down the hallway increased her pulse and blood pressure. He stopped, slid the key through the lock, the little light turned green, and he pushed the door open.

    Inside was a typical hotel room: bathroom, small fridge, long dresser with a TV on it. Pete flicked on a light and pointed. “The only room in the hotel with a king size bed. But first.” He pulled her close, reached into her kangaroo pouch, and pulled out the can of pepper spray. “Let’s just get rid of this.” He placed it on the counter in the bathroom and then scooped her up and dropped her onto the bed. His hands slid under her sweat shirt and pulled it over her head. She hooked her thumbs into her waist band, kicked off her shoes and wiggled her pants off.

    The bed shook as Pete climbed on. Resting his weight on his hands and knees, he ran his gaze down her body. “I love nothing more than a woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t waste time wearing underwear. You are beautiful. From these lips.” He placed a quick kiss on her mouth. “To these wonderful—”

    He cut off his sentence when he slipped a nipple into his mouth.

    Flame arched and sighed.

    With a small lip smack, he popped the bud from his mouth and shifted his body. “To the heaven that is waiting to be discovered.” He trickled his fingers down her belly and between her legs. His finger caressed her clit for a torturously brief moment. She thrust up her hips, hoping for another touch, but was agonizingly denied.

    His mouth latched onto hers. She could feel his lust, not only from his erection crushing into her belly, but from the intensity of the kiss. The knowledge this man wanted her exploded her nervous concerns. At the club, he’d captured her attention. Her body had reacted instantly. She’d wanted him. In the diner, everything he’d said only aroused her more. Now, she lay beneath him, reveling in the kiss and sensation of his roaming hands. Her body strained up, trying to eliminate any distance between them. She hooked her legs around his waist and ground her groin against him, and then opened her mouth. She was offering to be taken and she knew he was willing.

    His tongue slipped between her teeth. She flicked the tip of hers across the bottom of his. He groaned. She responded. Their tongues wound around each other like tangled spaghetti. Moans escaped her throat. Her nipples pressed against his t-shirt, begging to be suckled.

    She broke off their kiss with a gasp. “Question?

    “What?” His voice was equally breathless.

    “Why do you still have clothes on?”

    He leaned back onto his knees. “I was asking myself exactly that.” He pushed off the bed, tugging at his shirt. Flame grabbed the covers and tossed them to the end of the bed. When she turned, Pete stood naked, cock proudly erect. Walking on her knees to the side of the bed, Flame bent forward. The tip of his cock grazed under her chin. A dusting of dark hair circled his belly button. She poked her tongue in and out.

    “Mmm. Promises of things to come.” He ran his fingers through her hair.

    “I’m hoping emphasis on the word, come.”

    “Oh yeah. There’s going to be cuming. And groaning.” He bent lower and kissed the top of her head. “You know this is pretty much gonna be monkey sex. We’re both wired pretty tight.”

    Flame bent her arms and tickled her waist while performing her best monkey imitation. “Then let’s get the party started.” She braced herself on the bed, leaned closer, grabbed his hips for support, and covered his swollen penis with kisses. His breath quickened. His cock twitched. Changing what she did, she traced his shaft with teasing bites and long licks from bottom to top. When he was completely wet, she slipped the tip into her mouth. Holding him there, she reached around and grazed his bare ass with the tips of her fingers. His body quivered.

    Making a circle around him with her finger and thumb, she pressed her lips on her fingers and lowered her mouth as far as she could, then continued the movement with her hand. Pulling her hand back up to her lips, she slid back to his tip, and then lowering her head and hand once again. Her fingers reached between his legs and stroked his testicles. “Like that?”

    “Mm-hmm. That feels good.”

    She glanced up, met his gaze, and smiled.

    Using a light touch all the way through her coordinated stroke, she kept the pressure steady. His fingers wrapped in her hair as he pulled her closer, trying to get deeper into her.

    Her speed and pressure increased as the rest of her fingers encircled his engorged shaft and mimicked the efforts of her lips. His hips bucked into her. His breaths came in short sharp pants and the look on his face said he was focused on the delicious delights her mouth and hand provided him.

    Her left hand alternated from clawing his ass to caressing and squeezing his testicles.

    With a groan of frustration, his knees buckled. “Stop.” She dragged her lips up the length of his cock, slipping off and then kissing the tip. She could taste he was near his climax.

    Pete tucked his hands under her armpits and tossed her backward onto the bed. The mattress shook as he climbed on. He knelt and rested on his heels, taking a moment to admire her naked body. “You are beautiful.” His hands rubbed her nipples, enticing them to swell. He lowered his head and slipped the closest one into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, making it wet and hard.

    The touch of his tongue on her breast made her clit throb. A groan was all the response she could muster.

    Read more of this incredible hot story F.L.E.S.H. on:

    Image courtesy of Daryl Devore

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  • Sexy Reads – In Deep

    Sexy Reads – In Deep

    Brielle

    What would you do if you met a man that made you burn like wildfire from the inside out? Burn so hot that with one touch you forgot to breathe?

    And if you knew that he had dangerous secrets? Would you be able to walk away?

    I couldn’t. As strong as I know I am, I kept going back for more of him. That body… those eyes…

    I saw him for the first time on my very first day in Vegas, and even then I think a part of me knew, because I couldn’t look away. It was like that moment when you see something flying towards you and you know it’s going to hit you before you can ever move out of the way, so you just watch, transfixed, as it crashes into you. Cristos Vicario: owner of the illustrious Adagio hotel and casino and reputed billionaire playboy. He sure as hell wasn’t what he seemed on the surface. That man had secrets. No one knew what a dark and dangerous world he lived in, and when I finally saw him for what he was, it was already far too late. I found myself inextricably tied to him forever. The course of my life altered. My entire world changed forever as he took away my freedom and gave me the key to my dreams in one fell swoop.

    How could I have known that the one man who should have been my greatest nightmare would become the one thing I couldn’t live without? And all I had to do was forgive him…

    Cristos

    I was only living for one thing, one goal, one endgame… until I saw Brielle. And when I touched her, it was all over for me… I just didn’t know it yet. Not until I broke all of my rules for her, one after another, and that still wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

    I wanted it all. Yeah, what I did to her was pretty much unforgivable. I know that now. Some small part of me might have known it then, too, but it didn’t matter. I had to hold on to her. I would have done anything to keep her… and I did.

    Now I’ve put her in danger, dragged her into my world, and I don’t know whether to push her away or hold her tighter. Letting her go would be the right thing to do… but every time I try to do the right thing… I can’t.

    When I take her, it’s always hard and desperate, as if she’ll disappear if I can’t make her feel the same things I feel… if I can’t force her to care about me enough that she’ll look past everything else and see into my heart.

    Last night, after she fell asleep, still wrapped in my arms, I rested my lips against the top of her head and inhaled the scent of her as she slept. Trusting me, even though she shouldn’t. “I don’t deserve you”, I whispered. “But I want you. God, I want you so badly.”

    paperback1

    Excerpt

    It was only a few minutes until the car pulled up to the curb, and he got out and led me to the door of the hotel, looking up at the slightly battered sign in disgust. “I can’t believe this is where you’re staying.”

    He sounded irritated with me, and I put my hands on my hips, a little offended. He was wealthy, but I was not. “What’s wrong with it? Okay, so it’s not the Adagio, but if you’ll remember, I’m still a student. Therefore I’m broke. This is good enough while I’m here, because I need to save money for an apartment when I’m finished in Vegas.”

    He looked at the sign again and this time scowled at it. “I’m going to walk you to your room. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”

    “Hmmph. How very gentlemanly of you.”

    We went into the lobby and walked by the desk clerk, who appeared to be passed out behind the counter. Criss scowled in his direction, and I sighed, continuing on to my room. Criss waited while I unlocked the door, standing so close behind me that I could feel the heat of his body. I knew exactly what he was doing when he leaned a little closer to breathe in my scent. I could sense the change come over him, almost as if I could feel his heart speed up and his blood heat. Maybe because the same thing was happening to me. I swore I could almost taste the sex filling the air between us, and it tasted like something dark and sweet and addicting. Like chocolate, I mused.

    “Let me in, Brie,” he said in a low, rough voice. I could feel his warm breath next to my ear, and it made me shiver.

    God, this was going to be difficult, because I wanted to let him in more than anything, and in that moment, all of the reasons I had for not having sex with him that night had faded into my subconscious as the attraction between us numbed my thoughts and roused my most primitive instincts. His hand settled on my lower back and his thumb began to slowly stroke my skin through the thin fabric of my blouse. I had to swallow hard before I could speak.

    “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not a casual hook-up kind of girl, and we only just met. Maybe a goodnight kiss?”

    The fact was, I really wanted him to kiss me. A kiss would be like a compromise with my libido, a taste of what I might have more of if I was patient and didn’t fall into this trap, at least not on the first date. Standing there in the doorway with him looking down at me, wanting me to let him into the room beyond… I felt like I could cut the tension between us with a knife. My heart was racing, and the butterflies in my stomach were practically on a roller coaster. A kiss wouldn’t hurt anything though, and maybe it wouldn’t be as good as I thought it would, which would make this all so much easier. I turned my face up, and I knew my lips were parted a little because any second now he was going to bend his head and…

    He pulled back from me. “I don’t kiss, Brielle. At least… not on the lips.”

    His tone was unapologetic, and I jerked away in surprise, because that was probably the last thing I would have expected him to say. “What?”

    “I never kiss on the lips.” He leaned in to touch his lips to my neck, just below my ear, and I could hear him inhale my scent again. “It’s a hard rule, and I won’t break it. Not for anyone.”

    I took a step back and stared up at him in disbelief, my desire effectively quashed. And I was, admittedly, offended. Was I so far beneath him that he wouldn’t even lower himself to kiss me? Why had he even asked me out, then? It made me feel a little ill.

    He lifted his hand and watched it as he drew a finger slowly over my bottom lip. “Don’t take it personally Cariño. I have good reasons for all of my rules.”

    I raised an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest defensively, taking back what remained of my dignity. “And your reason for this particular rule?”

    He gave me a tight smile and for a moment I thought he wasn’t going to answer. The hard, cold edge in his gaze reminded me that he was still a complete stranger, no matter how much physical chemistry we had between us.

    He looked away, and I could see his chest rise and fall as he pulled in a breath. “I have no room in my life for a relationship Brielle, and I don’t know if I ever will. A kiss is too personal, too intimate. I would never want a woman to think that I would offer her anything more than… a really good fuck.”

    Image courtesy of Kella McKinnon

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  • Sexy Reads – Dark Muse

    Sexy Reads – Dark Muse

    When an introverted painter meets a rock guitarist at an art colony, she forces herself out of her shell to ask to paint him. While Gina paints him, their attraction grows, which Dante struggles against. He has a dark secret she could never understand.

    Dark Muse is part of the Chateau Seductions series, paranormal romances set in an art colony in a remote castle.

    Chateau Seductions Part 2

    It takes time before Gina Meiro warms up to people and her shyness is often misunderstood. She hasn’t had to worry about meeting new people at a remote art colony until a new resident arrives—a rock guitarist more suited for a billboard. Her carefree days of painting at the medieval-styled castle on a remote New England island are shattered when she stumbles right into his welcome gathering.

    After a falling out with his band, Dante Riani wants nothing more at Les Beaux Arts on DeRoche Island than solitude to work on new songs. When a shy young painter asks to paint him at sunset, he’s tempted by the opportunity to be alone with her.

    Someone at the colony claims to know what Dante is and asks for his help. Dante fears his plans are coming undone, especially as grows more drawn to Gina. Her scent and vulnerability are too difficult to resist. But he must stay away from her—she would never understand his secret.

    Excerpt

    Gina bit her lip, building up the courage to speak her mind. “Actually, I was thinking something,” she confessed.

    “Go on.”

    “It may sound weird, and feel free to say no if it is.”

    Dante’s eyes widened. “Something kinky?” he teased.

    “No,” she swatted his arm. “Nothing like that.”

    “How disappointing. So what’s on your mind?”

    “I noticed you when I was inside the castle.” She left out the part about how long and how many days she had done this. “The silhouette of you playing guitar against the sunset is a perfect juxtaposition. Dark against light. The color contrast. The musician playing into the sunset. Brilliant.”

    “Hmm.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m wondering where this is going.”

    “Would you mind if I painted you one day?”

    A smile crept from the corner of his decadent lips. “You don’t paint people often.”

    She raised her chin. “I make exceptions when I see something worth painting.” Was she flirting? Time to shut the hell up. Heat rose in from her chest up to her cheeks. Always one to throw an awkward statement, she added, “Nobody would have to know it was you,” she added. “I’d hide your face.”

    “You don’t like my face?” The hint of a smile developed into a full blown smirk.

    “No!” She protested. “I do.” Shut up, Gina. You’re making it worse. “I meant for your privacy.”

    “So you do like my face?” He grinned.

    “I’m a p-painter,” she stammered. “I’m looking at this strictly as an artist not letting an opportunity slip her by.”

    “So it’s for art, eh?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

    She nodded. This was a better move than trying to speak.

    “I’ll think about it. Had plenty of photo shoots with the band, but never a painting. That’s kind of cool.” He stood up, picked up his guitar, and took a few steps toward the castle. Then he stopped and turned back. “I’d be careful about watching me too closely.”

    “Why?” She smiled to match the sassy tone in her voice.

    The smirk that had lingered on his face dropped away, replaced by a serious expression. “You might not like what you see.”

    Read more and purchase Dark Muse at the following links:

    http://www.lisacarlislebooks.com/books/chateau-seductions-series/

    Amazon
    B&N
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    Kobo
    All Romance Ebooks

    Image courtesy of Lisa Carlisle

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