Posts Tagged ‘Etopia Press’
I recently signed a contract with Etopia Press for the first book in a Halloween themed trilogy. The first book Dead Man’s Hands is tentatively scheduled for 08/1/15. Here’s a small, unedited teaser of what you can expect:
He rubbed her arms, pouring into the cold limbs with just his touch. Joe’s unique cologne became her air. Every pull brought his scent into her body. On her tongue she could taste something cool with a hint of heat and sweetness as well as something with a dark tang that rolled over her taste buds and made her mouth water. It only added the sexual hunger crawling through her body and slipping through her veins. Her pussy became heavy and throbbed with the need for stimulation only the glide of his cock could satisfy. She moved her hands to grip the edges of the armrest on the seat and clutched the wood tightly until it dug into fingers. Her palms prickled with the urge to reach out and touch him, to cover his hands with hers and guide him to where her body needed his touch the most.
His breathe whispered against her neck and her heart beat bucked up. “Tell me what you need, Bridget.”
More to come!
Novel Released 5/13
M/M/F Contemporary Ménage, Light BDSM
This title came to me one morning as I imagined how sweet it would be to paint a big, strong, sexy guy’s toenails. What a silly little secret that would be; a flipside to the coin, a hidden part of his story. I wrote Polished to reflect the ways we feel we need Polishing, the face we feel we should show the world to hide the secrets we hold inside. Rory, Spencer and Jack all have some polishing they feel they need to do. In the end it’s just the nail polish they need to feel perfect. Read it, you’ll see what I mean.
It seemed like they had everything, but they didn’t have Jack.
Without question Spencer Hartley burns hot for his girlfriend, Rory, but his other desires are hidden down deep. He might blow things up for a living and climb mountains for kicks, but the scariest thing in his life is the truth about his sexuality.
Jack Rothman works hard and plays dirty. After long, demanding days in his family’s engineering firm, he indulges in the pleasures of silk restraints and fine wine. Lots of hot meaningless sex helps him forget that he’s suffocating, with no one to give him a reason to breathe.
When a catastrophic accident traps Spencer in a flooded subway tunnel with Jack, they need each other to survive. But something strong stirs down there in the darkness, and it’s more than their desperation to live. There’s a spark between them that’s impossible to ignore.
Rory Campbell would love to give Spencer the one thing he doesn’t have, the freedom to explore his secret desires. But how does that fit into her picture-perfect relationship? When Jack invites the couple to his sprawling Hamptons beach house, Rory realizes that she has secret desires of her own—the kind only Jack’s Dominant hand across her bare bottom can satisfy…
Excerpt: The door to the house was unlocked too, with a note perched on the hall console table: Out back for a swim.
Looking out through the wall of windows in front of them, Rory pressed her lips together and then read it again. “I’m not sure if this is an invitation or a just an FYI.”
“If you want to go swimming, babe, it’s fine with me, really.”
Rory studied his face. Spencer certainly wouldn’t be joining them. Casted ankle aside, neither swimming pools nor the ocean held much appeal to Spencer, but the jewel-colored sky over the sprawling sea called to Rory like a siren.
“Later. Come hang on the deck with me first. The sunset is just gorgeous.”
They dropped everything and slid open one of the glass doors. The sound of the ocean was something she hadn’t known she missed, until it was filling her ears again. They took a seat on two loungers that faced the water. Off in the distance a single figure popped out of the waves. The beach hooked sharply on one side and a large rock formation provided a natural screen between the Rothman property and the rest of the community. Rory waved out to the figure jogging in from the surf, splashing with long strides through the water.
Jack drew nearer, dripping wet, his board shorts stuck to his thighs, highlighting every slope of muscle. Spencer made an effort to stand, ready to greet Jack like an old buddy. Both men were smiling, happy to see the other as they joined hands in the air followed by a swift and sturdy pull to one another’s chests.
“Sorry dude, I got you all wet.”
“Some way to treat your guest,” Spencer jibed.
It caught Rory’s ear to hear his dry humor shared with Jack. That was something Spencer only did with the people he felt the most comfortable with, and Rory could count those people on one hand.
A moment passed as Jack seemed to decide on a comeback, all the while his eyes blazing across the barely there quirk of Spencer’s lip. Then suddenly Jack grabbed him into a bear hug and drenched him completely.
Spencer’s surprised laugh was only slightly louder than Rory’s.
“How’s that?” Jack said once he’d let him go.
Soaked now, Spencer returned to sitting on the lounger, the grin still fresh on his flushed face. “These Hamptons guys… No manners, I guess.”
Jack turned his attention to Rory. “Hello again,” he said with a cool hand on her shoulder. She intended to return an equally simple greeting, but somehow her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth while she inhaled the sea from his glistening skin. “You’re not opposed to getting wet, are you?”
Rory wondered if that was also an invitation. Jack appeared to have a habit of keeping things playful and vague. “Are you fishing for a hug, Jack?” Rory always preferred candor to riddles.
His grin turned lopsided. “If you’re handing them out, I’ll take one.”
Rory stood up and obliged him. The fact that she felt at home against his chest should have surprised her, but it didn’t. What made her jump was Spencer’s hand finding the shallow of her back in the moment Jack enclosed her in his arms. He rested his hand there, flat and sturdy, feeling both like ownership and generosity pressing her into Jack’s embrace. Or maybe she imagined all of that and he was simply getting her attention. A glance over her shoulder and she was still not sure.
“Rory really needed this little getaway.”
“A lady should have what she needs,” Jack said. “And right now I think she needs a drink. You too, my friend.”
Rory liked the sound of that, liked the sound of it all. “What do you have?”
“Anything, everything. A stocked bar is mandatory at my house.”
“I’ll have that beer you promised.”
“And you, Rory?” Jack crossed the veranda to the outdoor kitchen tucked into the corner next to the house.
“Whatever you’re having. I’m sure it would be more exciting than anything I’d come up with.”
“Don’t let her fool you, Jack.”
Jack smiled with boyish mischief. “Don’t worry. I know all about those bookish types.”
Rory whipped her hand to her hip and winked. “Then whatever you’re fixing, you know to make mine a double.”
He nodded with amusement. With all the sexual energy flowing around them, she could certainly use a stiff drink.
Two beers later for Spencer and Rory was still nursing the sweet but wickedly strong concoction that Jack had handed her. She lay back with her feet up while the boys were deep in discussion over the start of college football season. Cool breeze swept over her skin like an endless whisper and before long it all conspired to lull her off to sleep.
Somewhere beneath consciousness she heard the men’s voices bouncing back and forth, seeming like a serenade of bass surrounding her. She drifted in and out of sleep on the lounger, matching voice to face and face to body…then body to body.
“Huh, what?” Rory jumped at the sudden cold on her chest.
“Babe, you spilled some of your drink,” Spencer said, reaching over with Jack’s beach towel. “What was that you gave my girlfriend, Jack?”
Rory helped him dab at the rosy-colored liquid splashed across her collarbone and staining the top of her sundress. Her eye caught Jack’s over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Sex on the Beach.” Jack blushed. “Guess it was kind of strong.”
Spencer’s gaze hadn’t left her. Mild concern knitted his brow and Rory smiled back at him. “It was good.”
“Looks like it,” he said with a tap to her nose, looking satisfied that she was okay—looking also mildly entertained by the double entendre.
“Dinner will be ready in a few. Thought we’d make a fire and eat picnic-style on the beach.”
“I could start to complain that you’re going to too much trouble—” Rory started.
“But I’d have to find a way to banish that idea from your head,” Jack interrupted. “It’s my pleasure, really. I’m returning the favor to you guys for taking me in.” He held up his hand, oddly close to Spencer’s parted lips. “And I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
Rory flashed her eyes at Spencer. Returning the favor? Was that all there was to it?
With flashlights in hand for later, they all helped bring the party down to the well-used fire pit on the beach. Rory wondered how many charred beer caps lay at the bottom of it and imagined Jack sitting with his thoughts, tossing them into the flames. He placed a few strategic pieces of driftwood and sea grass and lit a match to set a warming glow upon them in the night air.
The shish kebabs of chicken and shrimp with the chili and lime marinade Jack had whipped up were amazing—not to mention his mixology skills. Rory finished off her second cocktail with the last of her meal.
“More Sex on the Beach, please.” She giggled, waving her plastic cup in the air.
“Oh man, she is toasted,” Spencer said, easing his hand onto her knee. “Maybe I should have some too.”
Rory liked the way Jack licked his lips when Spencer said that. She felt like she could read his mind, see the flash of something thick and hot pass his face in the firelight. He sucked in a slow breath and stretched the muscles in his neck with a bit of exaggeration. “I’ll be right back with a pitcher.”
Somewhere under the haze of alcohol Rory knew exactly what she hoped would happen if they all got drunk enough. They’d all have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to notice the energy filling the air around them, bouncing from one to the other.
She wouldn’t have called it a suspicion. That would have implied guilt, and there was nothing guilty about admitting desire as far as she was concerned. Still, it had been there, sleepily coursing beneath her happy relationship for months now. Spencer was also attracted to men. Even if neither of them knew what to do with that fact, it was there, staring both of them in the face in low-hung board shorts and holding a pitcher of Sex on the Beach.
Jack dropped to his knees on the blanket and filled her cup. With her gaze darting from Jack to Spencer, she took a heavy gulp. Firelight danced over all of them in the dark, while the waves crashed on the shore just feet away. Everything else was still around them, hugging the moment with anticipation of what she was going to do about it.
“We look like pagans out here,” Rory whispered.
“At least one of us isn’t just pretending,” Jack responded, reaching over her to hand Spencer his cocktail.
“What? You think we don’t get a little wild?” Spencer said and took a sip.
Jack paused as if contemplating his next words.
The silence called out to be filled. Rory swallowed another mouthful of liquid courage and went for it. “Maybe sometime we’ll show you just how wild we can get.”
Jack nodded, with a guarded smile on his lips. “I’d love to see that.”
Heat flushed Rory’s entire body and she turned to search out a reaction on Spencer’s face since he’d said nothing in response. Tucked into the corner of his mouth was the sexiest smirk she’d ever seen him wear. Then Spencer reached behind her head and pulled her into a searing kiss.
Rory lost her breath within the thunder of her pounding heart. Was she about to do this? Really? And the truth whispered to her from behind the fuzzy cloud of inebriation: You want this. She wanted to show Jack how perfect they were together, to show him what an amazing lover Spencer was. But also she wanted to find out how another man could possibly fit into their pretty little picture, because at her core she knew keeping his desires in the closet was eating Spencer alive.
Spencer set her mouth free and stared into Rory’s eyes. If she pushed, he would run. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that. One step at a time, and a weekend of show-and-tell with Jack seemed like a good start. It all made perfect sense within the swirling logic of one-hundred-proof rum.
“Rory doesn’t mind if you watch.” Spencer didn’t look away from her, though he was talking to Jack. Rory guessed he was probably talking to her too. He flicked his tongue against her top lip. “Do you, baby?”
Maybe she knew his secrets, but he had all of hers tucked into his pocket as well. She wasn’t the type to dance on top of tables and flash the crowd her thong. Nothing about being the center of that kind of attention appealed to her in the least. But offering an intimate spectacle in the open air of the firelit beach for a man who already had a hold over both of them—yes, that was exactly the right kind of audience.
Her gaze flitted toward Jack, just to check if he was at all embarrassed by the sudden turn of events. He lay on his side, his eyes hooded yet direct. His cup rested on his lip, as if forgotten there, and his tongue danced absently on the rim.
“Do it.” It was all he said—direct and forceful in his tone. They were only two small words, but the weight he placed upon them was exactly what she needed to hear.
Her back straightened with a tingling chill of excitement on her skin. She turned herself around to face Jack and hitched her dress up so that she could straddle Spencer, careful not to jostle his healing ankle.
Jack had a front and center view. She could catch his expression in the random flickers of firelight. Rolling her hips on top of Spencer, she stared at Jack as he stared back. A moan erupted from her lips at the sight of him watching her so intently. Her pussy grew more slippery under her panties as they raked across Spencer’s cargo shorts. Jack liked what he saw all right. She liked being the reason. In that moment she forgot who she was doing all this for in the first place.
Spencer gripped the hem of her dress in his fists, threatening to expose her lacy pink panties. Rory wrapped her fingers over his knuckles and pulled his hands up her thighs, the dress retreating with them. Under her, Spencer’s cock strained against his fly. She could help him with that. Leaving his hands to wander onto her breasts, she slid down his zipper and pulled his cock from his shorts.
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Contest: Comment to win a copy of Polished.
OUT NOW! Hades Helmet Crew 2: Carnevale and Subterfuge
from Etopia Press
If he can’t resist her, he’ll put her in danger…
On leave from her ship, Anarrae Lavender wants to indulge in her desires on Ill Doge. But a night on the town and one case of mistaken identity later, Anarrae finds herself in the arms of a charming and mysterious thief, having the hottest sexual encounter of her life. But who is that masked man with the talented hands who makes all her bondage fantasies come true? An when it’s over, how will she learn the identity of her lovable “Dodger?”
When Diego stops in at a pub for a drink he doesn’t expect to be mistaken for someone else. Intrigued by Ana, he kidnaps her for the evening and indulges her fantasies—and even some of his own. He doesn’t want it to be a one-night-stand, but his mission to protect the Ambassador from an assassin demands his complete anonymity. The assassin’s eyes are everywhere, and if he loses his focus again, he’ll endanger them all…
Diego watched the woman walk away. His cock pressed against his pants, urging him to go after the small package of deliciousness. He had to admit, he would have gone for her in a heartbeat if he hadn’t had somewhere to be. She was curved in all the right places. Her milk chocolate complexion had him wanting to see her naked and to run his hands over her body.
The beauty’s voice, soft and sweet, edged in huskiness, only enflamed him, and it had been so long since someone had caught his attention like that. A soft fire burned through his veins.
He paid for his drink and left the bar in search of her, despite the fact that he had a job to do. He hated the thought of some other man spending the night in her bed. The only problem he could see was whether or not she’d be interested in what he had to offer.
At first the crowd obscured his view of his prey. He looked left and then right. All he saw were masked revelers celebrating the planet’s annual Carnevale festivities. Frustration made him clench his jaw. He waded into the crowd of people, cursing himself for not going after her as soon as she’d left. There were too many people. With a sigh, he went around the side of the building into an alleyway, ignoring a couple currently fucking against the worn brick face.
Diego brought his wrist up to his mouth. “AI, show me all the hotels within a five mile radius.”
He lowered his arm and watched the mini device search its database.
“Closest hotel is two blocks away,” the AI’s soft female voice replied. “San Marco. Go west.”
“Thank you, AI. Send a message to my appointment that I will be late,” Diego ordered. He refused to say he wouldn’t be there.
“As you wish.” The machine automatically went into sleep mode, and he headed west. It didn’t take him long to come to one of the gaudy new metallic hotels that had been built by the nuovi ricchi of the city, who had wanted to modernize everything. He shook his head and went inside.
Diego made a beeline for the front desk. Once there he cursed himself. He didn’t know her name. The receptionist tuned to him, expectation on her face. Which approach should he use?
“Good evening, love. I’m new to the city and am in need of directions. I’m looking for the Il Grifone gardens? I’m hoping you could help me.” He gave her his most winning smile and watched as she grinned back at him. Her overly large violet eyes turned to her computer console and she typed in a few things. Frown lines creased her brow as she continued to type.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t see anything with that name.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “I must find this place. My grandmother, the Universe rest her soul…it was her favorite place in all of Il Doge. She asked me to see it for her and gaze up at the double moons on Carnevale night. She claimed it would bring me luck in love.” He knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but an honorable grandson worked better than a horny man.
The receptionist’s gaze softened. “I shall do whatever I need to do. Excuse me while I go check with my boss.”
Diego nodded and watched her retreat through the office door. That would keep her busy for quite some time, since there was no such place as the Il Grifone gardens. With a big grin, he rushed around the large counter. “AI, give the security team something to keep them busy. I’ll hack into the system and look for my girl.”
“Don’t you think you should just find someone else?” his AI asked.
Diego frowned. “Just do it. I don’t need your sass.”
He swore he could hear the device sigh. The lights dimmed and the various screens on the walls began showing porn. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He searched until he found the security footage and scrolled through the last hour until he found who he was looking for. He accessed and memorized her info. With that done, he ordered his AI to erase his tracks and dashed to the stairs.
By the time he got to her floor, sweat was dripping down his brow, making his skin itch behind the mask.
“She better be a good fuck, for all the trouble you’re going through,” his AI muttered, coming out of sleep mode.
“You can shut up before I put you in pause mode.” Diego threatened. His eyes roamed over the LED panels on the doors.
“You do that and I’ll take my sweet time coming back online when you need me,” she said.
“I should never have insisted you have an AI core. Keep this up and I won’t find you a body.” The AI had no come back to that.
Diego finally found Anarrae’s room and pondered whether to knock or break in.
“AI, access her file and find out why she was looking for a prossy.”
“First you threaten me and now I’m supposed to help you? Cristo, cosa non faccio…” she sighed and brought up the files.
The clear lens on Diego’s mask scrolled through the information. “Interesting. She’s come here for some sort of sexcapade. She wants to be tied down, fucked…oh, no names to be exchanged. Kidnapping optional.” Diego’s lips curled into a smile. “What the lady wants, she’ll get. Wait, what’s this? She’s a crewmember on the Hades’ Helmet. Oh, this night just keeps getting better and better.”
Diego pulled out a small plug on the side of the wrist computer and connected it into the monitor on the door. “AI, bypass the security systems, please.”
“Fine, fine, whatever you want, sir,” the AI grumped.
The screen flickered and then dimmed to black. A small click indicated the lock was undone. Diego slipped into the darkened room. “This is so much more fun than conning the rich and stupid at the Silver Ball. And much more interesting than fucking dumb socialites so I can get their gems.”
“Hey, you have to fuck them. I have to watch,” the AI whispered. “You better turn me off when you’re doing whatever it is you’re about to do her.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, for her I want privacy.”
“Really? You’re gonna treat her like a person instead of a warm body? Nice. What’d you do, grow some feelings in the last few minutes? Last I checked, you’re still a conman right?”
Diego said nothing. Something about this woman intrigued him. He couldn’t tell whether it was the horror he had witnessed on her face at the bar when she’d been mistaken or the fact that she wasn’t like the spoiled brats he normally wooed and conned. Something about her made him want to see what was under the surface. He snorted silently to himself. Perhaps the AI was right. She wasn’t just a warm body to him.
He slipped carefully through the suite. He’d been in rooms like this hundreds of times. He’d never kidnapped a person before. He’d stolen large statues, large paintings, and even a suit of armor with ten arms, but never a person. He prayed his first kidnapping would go smoothly.
In the dark, with his cybernetic implants, his night vision was activated, and he saw large landscape paintings that could be found at any other high-end hotel. Diego refocused his attention on the task at hand. He was going to give the intriguing Anarrae the night of her life. With great care he passed through the sitting room, bypassed the kitchenette, and went into the bedroom, avoiding discarded boots, a uniform, some gloves, a com/GPS unit, a bra and some underwear.
“Oh, saints alive, she’s naked.” Diego’s cock pressed against the fly of his pants. He groaned as his stomach clenched. The pace of his heart increased as excitement rose within him.
“Get a grip, you moron. Focus and don’t let your dick do the thinking,” the AI said through a small com unit in the mask.
With a deep breath, Diego refocused his energy on getting to the bed. The soft rustle of sheets was like a gunshot in the silent room. He stilled and strained his cybernetics to hear her breathing patterns. Slow and steady. Relief washed over him and he began to move again. She wasn’t getting up. One single scream would send the sensors in the suite into panic mode, and security would be up to her room in flash, ruining his kidnapping attempt.
He approached her bed and paused to take in her sleeping form. The smell of jasmine from Earth, along with the barest hint of arousal, perfumed the air. It was a heady combination.
“Only screams and moans tonight,” he whispered before pulling the sheets back and scooping her body up in his arms. Then he stopped.
“She’s naked, idiot,” his AI said.
“I know.” Diego gazed down her body. She was fit, with small high breasts, flat stomach, and wide hips. Just gorgeous. Even her toes were perfect.
“Stop staring. Cover her up and then get out of here. Did you forget that you are wanted in three galaxies? Get her and get out of here, Casanova, or you’re dead meat.”
Diego pulled a sheet from the bed, laid her down on it, and wrapped her body up before picking her up again. She moaned but didn’t stir. It must have been the Nastro azzurro ale she had had at the bar. The alcohol on Il Doge was at least a hundred times more potent anywhere else in the galaxy. If she hadn’t eaten she’d be out for a while.
“This would be so much easier if you just woke her up and told her to get dressed,” his AI said.
“She’ll scream. Now find me the best route to get out of here. Also, screw with the security systems again.”
“Fine, fine. But when I get my body, it better be the best one they have. I want it all, you got me? I won’t be some freaking metallic monstrosity, with those weird-ass eyes and mechanical voice.”
“Yes, yes, whatever. Work your magic,” Diego said.
“Security system off. I’m logging off for the night.”
He felt the AI go offline. The slight buzz that usually went through his body was gone. Taking a deep breath, he left the suite and took his time going down the stairs, mindful that he had Anarrae in his arms. He managed to make it safely out of the hotel. It was Carnevale. No one would think twice about the sight they made. It was normal for this time of year. He carried her five blocks to his flat overlooking the river Rivergaro.
He managed to get into his building without the AI’s help and up to his apartment. Once there, he laid her carefully down on the bed, stripped her of the sheets, and shackled her to the iron headboard and footboard.
Her hair was spread out like a dark brown halo against his dark red, silk pillows. Her milk chocolate skin looked decadent, like an offering, surrounded by red and black striped silk. Diego couldn’t wait to feast on every inch of her body and make her scream and writhe in pleasure.
“You want a Carnevale you will never forget, bella? You got it,” he murmured, stripping out of his coat and throwing it on a nearby chair. For the next half hour he took great care choosing his implements of arousal for her. When she finally woke up, he grinned at her confused and sleepy eyes.
“Hello, bella, are you ready to be fucked within an inch of your life?” Diego asked in a gruff voice.
First I will be forever grateful to Sophia Titheniel for her help with the Italian and for being so supportive and kick ass. Her feedback and giving me her time meant so much. *Sending Hugs and love to her* This book has a special place for me. Going to Carnevale in Venice is a Wish List item. Il Doge is based a bit on it and Venice. This book was previously published as two separate stories. Now it’s been combined and updated. I hope you like this book. I loved writing it. It brings me great happiness to share Ana and Diego’s story with you again.
Tell me what place in the world you’d love to visit for a chance to win a copy of At Drogan’s Command the first in the Hades Helmet series.
Deadline: Friday, May, 05, 2014. Winner will be annouced Saturday May 06, 2014
Fallen Lovers 1: Roman!
Excerpt Rating (PG-13), Tris Convo
Genre: Paranormal, Interracial
Can a mere woman heal a fallen angel’s wounds?
Author Tristina Deveroux has been dreaming of a man—a tall, dark, sexy man whose nightly visits bring her to a fever pitch. But come morning, she always awakens agitated and unsatisfied—and alone. When her agent suggests a writer’s getaway in Scotland, Tristina can’t resist the chance to gain a little distance, hoping a change of scene will help her escape the dreams…
He stilled above her, letting out a guttural cry. The room grew brighter. In awe, Tristina observed wings growing out of his back. Large wings, covered in black and silver feathers. He began to glow with an unearthly light.
When he pulled away, the room began to dim. Sadness weighed in his eyes. “I’ll miss you.”
The room rippled, her vision becoming hazy. “No, don’t go yet. Please, don’t go.” Tears slipped down her cheeks as a loud, blaring sound came out of the distance.
Tristina awoke with a start.
Her body hurt. Groaning, she rolled over and winced. She could barely keep her eyes open, she was so exhausted. Like all the other nights since the dreams began, she’d felt as if she’d just had sex. She buried her head in her pillow and let out a soft scream.
“This can’t go on.” Reluctantly she got out of bed and showered. As she prepared breakfast, her thoughts drifted toward the dream. For the first time in months, she had seen his face. Her body trembled as she remembered the blue of his eyes, his carved jaw, the lips that had been kissing her for so long. She groaned, willing the arousal to stop. He felt so familiar and yet was a stranger to her.
At first she thought she had been going crazy; now she just accepted her dream lover as a figment of her sex-starved imagination. Her legs shook just remembering the ways he took her, with the toys and without. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m losing my mind. He doesn’t exist. No man like that could possibly exist.”
Disappointment set in, making the room seem too big. A chill hung in the air. The shrill ring of her phone jarred her from her thoughts. Reaching over, she picked up the cordless receiver and hit talk. “What?”
“Is that how you answer your phone in the morning? What if I were the president or something?”
“Morning, Chell. What’s up?” Tris grabbed her toast, carefully smearing each slice with peanut butter and strawberry jam.
“I’ve booked you for a writer’s vacation. Guess where.”
“The moon?” Tris responded putting one slice on top of the other before taking a bite.
“You are not funny. I booked you a nice little cabin in Scotland.”
“Uh, I’m in deadline hell. I’ve got the final round of edits to get through. I can’t possibly do this.”
“And why not?” Chelley asked indignantly.
“’Cause I’ll want to shop, sightsee, check in with friends. Too much to do. I’ll get frazzled.”
“Tough. I signed you up already. It will be fun. You’ll be all alone with the Scottish countryside for inspiration. You can edit and write.”
“That’s not a vacation,” Tris pointed out.
“That’s why I said a writer’s vacation. Don’t you pay attention? Those dreams you’ve been telling me about have been driving you crazy. Getting out of town with a change of scenery might help you in more ways than one.”
“Okay, fine. When do I leave?” Tris took another bite of her sandwich.
“In a few weeks. You know what to pack. I’ll meet you at your place. I’m emailing you the details right now. Let me know if you don’t get them. My email has been screwing up lately.”
Tris rolled her eyes. “When is it ever running smoothly? Okay, I’ll try to get as much done as possible and pack. Talk to you later.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Also, as your best friend it is my job to find you a man while we’re there.”
“Chell,” Tris whined.
“No complaining. We’re going to find you a man even if it kills me. Tootles.”
Chelley hung up and Tris bowed her head. “I need to buy myself a new best friend.”
Series: Dragon New Year: Dragons at Midnight
Genre: Paranormal, Interracial, Ménage, Dragons
Tiger shifter Louisa thought she’d ring in the New Year all alone little did she knew that three, sexy, younger dragon shifters plan on making sure she celebrates things right. Add a little steam, some dragon shifters with a dirty mind and some creative use of furniture and you’ve got the perfect party for four.
ARe Buy Link:
Tor ghosted his lips along her inner thigh before lapping up one side of her slit and down the other. Pleasure doubled within her. The men kissed, sucked and nipped at her flesh, teasing her sex and breasts. The moved away at once and picked her up, laying her down on a towel-covered table before Brent cuffed her wrists again. Fletch held her arms overhead as she was stretched out on the tabletop like an offering to the men.
Tor pushed open her legs and climbed up onto the table and kissed his way up her body. She groaned and tried to maneuver toward him. Brent and Fletch held her down by her shoulders. She let out a sound of frustration. “Please,” she begged. Brent and Fletch answered her plea with kisses on her shoulders, moving in unison down her arms and sides before kissing their way up her stomach. They sucked and nipped her flesh. Waves of pain and pleasure merged into a single, blinding shard as Tor ate at her pussy with delicate bites and laps.
Pressure built within her as her heart thundered in her head. Her body wasn’t her own as she became overwhelmed by sensation. The men covered her body with their mouths and hands. Fire consumed her as her inner feline clawed and screamed within, demanding to be fucked, sated. Her hands fisted in their hair. Silken strands slipped between her fingers, and she gripped tight. Tor flicked her clit, teasing the aching bundle of nerves with quick touches and slow pulls of his lips. She moaned as her orgasm built, the pressure increasing with each tug of Brent’s and Fletch’s mouths on her breasts and Tor’s nips. They took their time teasing and taunting her. Her moans pierced the air as she drew closer to the cliff.
“Gods, yes, please, more,” she groaned as she rocked her hips against Tor’s mouth. He gripped her legs, holding her to the table as Brent and Fletcher moved away from her breasts. She mourned the loss. “Where…”
Brent covered her lips with his before replying, “Shhh, it’s okay. We’ll be back.”
Tor continued to eat her out, licking up and down her slit, pausing to circle and tease her dripping entrance before dipping inside to give her just a bit before returning to her clit. Her vaginal walls clenched as moisture coated her thighs and his lips. Tor moved away from her pussy, leaving her hanging on the edge of coming with no stimulation to help her along. She growled. “Get back here.”
“We’re not done with you.” Tor moved up her body and placed a kiss on her lips before pulling away.
Fletch returned and lifted her hips while Brent slid a pillow under her. Brent spread her legs wide and tied them to chairs. He held up a cell phone and a small cup of ice. With a wicked grin he turned on the phone. The electronic device began to vibrate. “Now, whatever you do, don’t come. No matter what we do to you or how close you are. And if you do, you get punished.” His smiled widened, and she swore his canines had gotten longer and sharper. A shiver of fear and need traced its way down her spine.
She wasn’t sure she could do that. Louisa wasn’t the type of person to hold back when it came to sex. It was either be uninhibited or stop everything. She wasn’t sure she could do that. She’d read about delayed gratification but to actually do it? She bit her lip. “I can try.”
Fletch nodded. “That’s all we ask. Either way, you’ll feel good, but this time you have to hold back.”
She nodded and closed her eyes.
“Don’t close your eyes, sweetness. Watch as we pleasure you.” This came from Tor, who’d returned holding a silver bullet. If Brent’s smiled had been wicked, Tor’s look was downright evil. He held up the small device and then handed out three controllers.
Oh, goddess. All of them would have control over the vibrator. She bit her lip, not sure whether to be scared or feel as if she was going to die of pleasure. Licking her lips, she put on a bravado she didn’t feel. “Bring it on,” she spat out.
Tor smiled. “Remember, don’t come.”
“I can do that.” She tossed her head and kept her eyes on him. Easier said than done, she told herself. Her inner tigress wasn’t so sure she could hold out.
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*feels all tear* WOOOOT! Mate Not Wanted from Etopia Press got a 4 Star Review! I’m so happy:
“Ms. Illyria did a great job building upon their personalities as the story unfolded. Nothing felt rushed, including the sex. However, there was plenty of sizzle leading up to the first sex scene, making it well worth the wait. “- Completed Reviews for Long & Short Review
Trees blurred by and his body began to relax as his stresses melted away. Suddenly, there was no opening night, no success or failure to worry about. Here he was with his thoughts, closer to his element. His mind traveled to the one thing that he’d been trying to avoid thinking about: Madison Weston, the curvy little lioness who haunted his kinkiest fantasies and dreams.
A burst of heat washed through his chest and moved down to his stomach. A shadow of her scent filled the cab: sunshine, lemon, grass, and feline musk. He let out a groan as the warmth moved downward to fill his shaft and buzz around his balls. They’d only spent a few moments together, and yet her perfume and the sensation of her presence were imprinted on his brain. He could practically taste her warmth and feel the fire of her resistance. She was like a craving, an addiction he could never satiate. Just when he thought he could get close to her, she’d dart away and hide.
Another burst of fire filtered through his veins like sparks from a sparkler. He growled as another wave overtook him.
Why did she avoid him? There was only a small indication that she was attracted to him. It wasn’t enough, but it couldn’t stop the daydreams and fantasies that filled his head and threatened to shake his cool. Even now, alone, he could feel the tension that threaded along his legs and arms.
The feline instinct in him wanted to find Madison, wherever she was, and claim her. It went against everything his human side felt was right in the world. She had to come to him willingly. The waiting, however, was torturous. Nights alone, with only his imagination for company and his hand for relief, were starting to wear him thin. Not even porn helped take his mind away from how alone he was and how empty his bed felt.
Within, his tiger clawed at his heart, demanded he search Madison out and carry her away. He resisted the impulse. This was not the middle ages, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to act like a savage.
His thoughts streamed toward the bachelor auction. Lots of single women in the shifter community wanted to get their paws on him, and they had made it perfectly clear that they’d do anything he asked of them. His stomach soured in revulsion. Only his mate could release him from these feelings.
Pierce shook his head as he hit the button for the gates of his property and then turned into the drive. Hesitation filled him, pushing back some of his arousal. His tiger remained vigilant, pushing images into his head of Madison—her full lips, button nose, large brown eyes, and flawless, cocoa-colored skin. She had an hourglass figure and a tendency to wear things that reinforced that image, from corsets with blouses and pencil skirts to dresses that hugged her form like a second skin. She had a confidence and sway about her that enticed him. Madison Weston was a mystery wrapped in silk and perfume. She didn’t wear much makeup, but then again she didn’t need any artifice to look beautiful.
He wondered how he was going to survive the shifter females at the auction without insulting them. Many in the community had invested in this new sport of his, and the last thing he needed was a group of enemies. The league allowed paranormals to truly unleash their true natures in a sports setting. A lot of popular athletes had come out of the paranormal closet to participate, leaving lucrative contracts and being shunned by their human counterparts. There was turmoil in the sports community at that moment. No one knew what to make of things as they stood, and some paranormal athletes were still not admitting to their otherworldly status. There was even talk of the vampires possibly joining the Elemental League.
They just needed to get through opening day. With all the cameras around and people looking for him to fail, he wanted to tell everyone to sod off, find a pint, and hide in his house until everything was done. Being the face of the Elemental League was putting him on edge. His wilder instincts were coming out and his tiger wanted time to itself to do some hunting—become that wild loner he’d been when he had played himself.
In those days, he had kept a low profile, but had a different woman waiting for him after every game. Now there was only one woman he wanted.
Pierce turned into his driveway and let out a sigh. He was home and yet he didn’t feel safe or happy in the least. He felt lost. He could only hope that when he did get Madison in his net she’d like the place he’d custom built to house a family.
I’m still reeling over this book being nominated for the Menage Romance Fan Awards. Thank You so much. If you haven’t gotten this book yet, here’s a snippet that I think will whet your appetite.
DNY 2: Dragon Ugly OUT NOW!
Brent felt her trying to pull away from the moment, and could only smirk. He sat back in his chair but didn’t move back around the table. “You can run away from what you’re feeling all you want, sweetheart, but you’ll give in to me eventually. Also, remember, we have a dinner date tonight.”
“I haven’t forgotten, but you’ll only get a tour and dinner. Nothing else.” She sounded tough, but there was a quiver in her voice that made him grin.
Her arousal was obvious. He was sure she could smell her own desire. Brent wouldn’t let her forget how he had affected her. But first, some food.
His own dragon was egging him on, and he needed a distraction before he did something stupid. He ate, but didn’t really taste anything. Every breath he took reminded him of her damp panties. The pressure in his pants was verging on painful. His balls ached for release and his cock was pressing against his fly, demanding freedom. She wasn’t the only uncomfortable one here. He reached down and adjusted his erection, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, she seemed very intent on looking at her lobster pasta dish. When the waiter came back to offer them wine, they both declined. Brent had work in an hour or two and Carissa had to get back to Scentify.
Brent thought back to the aromatherapy store. It was nice, clean and had a welcoming feel. But there was something missing about it. It lacked Carissa’s personal touch. He took in the woman next to him. The phantom taste of skin on his tongue blended with the soup he’d chosen for lunch—a salty tang with just a hint of earthy flavor, which made him yearn to lick and kiss every inch of her. He could see her tied down and blindfolded as he used an ice cube and his tongue on her body to rile her up, making her beg.
Out of the corner of his eye he took her in, calm and cool, controlled. Only her unique perfume gave away that anything was wrong. Her body heat no longer scalded his side, but he could still feel that fire from her skin against the bare flesh of his forearm.
They ate their fill in silence. When the server came back to ask about dessert, Carissa declined. She checked her watch. “Sorry, but I have to get back.”
Brent understood. He had to get back to the house himself and change.
Before she could insist on paying he handed the waiter his credit card. “I’ll meet you out front.”
She opened her mouth and he took her lips in a quick kiss to stop her from protesting. “No need to pay. Next time we go out, it’ll be your turn. How’s that?”
Carissa chuckled. “Have it all figured out do you? Fine. Next time.”
She pushed back her chair and left him. He returned his seat back to its rightful place before going to the front. Once the check was paid, he offered her his arm and they left. Carissa turned toward him as soon as they passed the restaurant front. “Thank you. I’ll see you for dinner tonight at the shop.”
He grinned. “Yes, you will.”
She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, but that wasn’t good enough. He bent his head to hers, slid his arm out from her hold and took her face in his hands. He held her head in place as he ate at her lips, nipping, kissing, sucking and teasing the tender flesh until he sunk his tongue deep inside of her mouth. Wolf whistles and clapping sounded around them from onlookers. He ignored it all and continued to control the kiss. He felt pressure on his chest, but rather than push him away she moved closer, bunching his shirt in her hands as she moved her hips against his, rubbing herself against his erection.
He saw stars behind his eyelids as sparks of pleasure raced up and down his cock. A groan floated between them. Whether it came from him or her, her didn’t know. It didn’t matter. He just wanted more. She tasted so sweet. He was addicted. He ran his hands down from her face, over her shoulders, and traced the curves and dips of her back, feeling the heated skin underneath the flimsy blouse she wore. Brent wanted to tear it off. His hands clenched the silken fabric, ready to rip it apart, when he felt a sharp tug on his shirt.
Brent whirled around and growled at the person who had interrupted them. A searing pain shook along his fingers as they turned to claws and steam billowed out of his mouth and nostrils. His scales pressed upward into his flesh, shimmering on the surface until his flesh had turned to the colors of the sea. Warmth and pain filled his muscles as they expanded, preparing for the change to half-dragon mode. His head throbbed as his skull slimmed and his nose began to recede. Brent’s lips burned as they thinned and his cheekbones ached as they contorted into a sharper shape. His thoughts became a distant mist, insubstantial compared to the raw need to make Carissa his—all his.
Tor stood before him, but he was no longer a friend. He was an enemy, a possible challenge for his mate.
Tor held up his hands, eyes pure obsidian, body slack and relaxed. “Whoa there, buddy. Calm down. It’s me. It’s only me, Tor, your friend.” Tor waved a hand, but it took a moment for Brent to understand what was going on. “We’re in public, man. Pub-lic.”
Brent blinked and looked around. A crowd had formed around him. His dragon felt threatened and put on display. He growled. Searing hot, bone-melting steam streamed out of his mouth and nostrils again. He could feel dragonfire swirling around his chest, building up pressure, ready to escape. A hand on his forearm made him pause, and a calm, soothing sensation twined around his arm and wrapped around his body. He looked down, confused at this new feeling, and saw Carissa staring up at him, calm in her gaze, her soft hand on his arm.
“Brent, pull back. It’s okay. No one will hurt you.” The softness and reasonableness of her words pulled back the shift and sent his dragon down on his belly, calm and docile, like a sleepy kitten. He winced at the return to his normal form.
Carissa lifted up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. “Dinner, tonight,” she whispered. Then she turned and walked away.
What the fuck had just happened? Was he starting to go through his own mating heat? Tor came toward him, the scent of fire and spice drifted over him, soothing and calming him down a bit. Brent turned to his friend, trying to bat back the sense of fear curling in his stomach. “What’s happening to me?”
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Again, I have no words! Dragon Ugly and Halloween Heat II are nominated for the fantastic Menage Romances 2014 Fan Awards! OMG! I just…You all are so awesome! *all teary* *Hugs all around and THANK YOU!
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