Posts Tagged ‘Menage’
It’s Samhain and Brent wants to fulfill Carissa’s fantasy of sex in a bookshop while it’s open. With help from Fletch he’s going to make it a hot, steamy night she’ll never forget.
Carissa only wanted to spend more time with her mate she didn’t know what to expect when they arrived in the mountains to visit his parents. After dressing her as a French maid, him as Highway man and their friend Fletch as Zorro, she’s pretty sure that he’s taken her fantasy to a whole new level.
Samhain has always been a magical time, now it’s about to get a whole lot hotter.
Author Note: This story comes after Dragon Ugly.
“Whoa there, lover,” Carissa called out. “We have time, there’s no rush.”
“He’s just impatient,” Fletch said as he caught up. “Slow down man, I don’t want to look suspicious to the cops.” He nodded his head toward a man dressed as a British Bobby.
Brent grumbled something that Carissa didn’t catch, but she was relieved when he slowed his pace to a relaxed walk. Her muscles ached as she matched his speed. They had been walking over uneven cobblestone, up and down hills, for the last half hour.
“Trying to get me to lose five pounds?” she teased, knowing that wasn’t the case.
“You know I love your curves, honey.” Brent leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Sorry for the rush, just wanted to get there as fast as possible in case they changed their mind.”
Fletch laughed. “Fat chance of that, they’ve done this type of thing before. Tor arranged for it last month when he brought Louisa with him on a visit to his parents. So no worries.”
Carissa didn’t comment, she just kept walking. At least she knew that this would be a safe place to fulfill this type of fantasy.
The town around them was dressed in its fall colors, deep reds, bright golds, rich browns and even a few green leaves still decorated the trees. Cinnamon, cloves, pumpkin and incense wove through the cool breeze that brought goose bumps to her bare arms and legs. She tugged at her skirt, wishing it were a little longer and that she’d been allowed to wear stockings. Brent had said that stockings or even thigh highs would have gotten in the way. So she dressed in the costume Brent had provided for her and followed him and Fletch out the door with kisses and winks from Brent’s mom and dad.
“If you wanted to take me on a pleasure tour of your hometown, you couldn’t have done it during the day and allowed me to wear more comfortable shoes?” The five-inch peep toe stilettos weren’t doing her feet any favors on the cobblestone sidewalks.
“Sorry, I should have warned you.” Brent pulled her toward him and gave her a kiss on her temple. “The bookstore is in the more secluded part of town.”
“The Red Light district,” Fletch leered.
“Sex, sex, sex, that’s all you think about,” she teased back.
“Well, when you’ve got a sexy girlfriend like I have, that’s all you can concentrate on.” Brent stopped and pulled her in a for a long slow kiss.
I’m pleased to announce that the second book in my Halloween Trilogy, Making Demons Purr, has been contracted by Etopia Press and is scheduled for October.
This is the second book in my Halloween Trilogy. (Dead Man’s Hands is the first book in the series.)
This is an unedited Sneak Peek.
“You’re a far way from safety, Seraphena.” Carver St. James’ deep voice rumbled from the darkened doorway. Goose bumps rippled over her skin as her temperature spiked. Her heart beat began to race as her feline counterpart became more alert. Tension sang along her legs and arms as she fisted her hands. The magic that flowed unhindered during this time of year skittered along her bare flesh cause her tremble. Damn witches, letting their control go. Something else moved down her limbs, like raw silk kissed with heat.
Release Blitz Perfect Chemistry by Jodi Redford
Perfect Chemistry by Jodi Redford
August 11, 2014
Perfect Chemistry blurb:
When it comes to sexy geeks, Leo Martinez and Devlin Hawke are as hot as they come. But falling for the wrong guy has always been Sidney Chase’s forte.
She’s not about to submit to her inner bad girl by giving in to her secret fantasies about her sex-on-a-stick bosses. When she’s accidentally exposed to
the supercharged aphrodisiac in their lab, Sidney tosses aside her inhibitions and unknowingly provides her bosses with an eye-popping display of self
lovin’ courtesy of the office security cameras.
Despite their mutual craving for Sidney, Leo and Devlin made a pact long ago to keep her off limits. The last thing they’d wanted was to scare off their
best PA by overwhelming her with their kinky tendencies. Witnessing the arousing effects of their aphrodisiac elixir on Sidney changes everything. Not only
is she the answer they’ve been looking for in regards to fine-tuning their formula, she’s the perfect woman for them. And with a little help from one
helluva sinful science experiment, they’ll prove that love is far more potent than anything manufactured in a bottle.
Page where Perfect Chemistry is listed http://jodiredford.com/Coming_Soon.html
Group Blog http://www.lustwithalaugh.com
Amazon Author page http://www.amazon.com/Jodi-Redford/e/B002YUEZ0U
Facebook profile https://www.facebook.com/jodi.redford.3
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.
Visit me at AlyssaTurnerWrites.blogspot.com
Contest: Comment to win a copy of Polished.
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.
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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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Forget taming their cougar. These young studs want her as is, even if she scratches.
Someone’s killing shifters in prison, and Patricia needs help catching the culprit. The cougar enlists the help of Stu and Ricky, a techno geek and a reformed criminal, a mismatched pair, who turn out to also be her mates. But Patricia’s already loved and lost one man. Does she dare allow herself to care again?
Older isn’t just wiser, it’s sexier, or at least that’s what a socially challenged wolf and a bad boy panther think. Forced to work together to catch a killer, Stu and Ricky soon find out they’ll have to learn to do more than tolerate each other when they realize a hot, almost forty cougar is their mate. Can they find a way to work together and make their cougar purr?
Is jealousy romantic?
I think jealousy is romantic to a certain extent and I know many will disagree, but jealousy is such a powerful emotion, one that just about everyone feels at one time or another. In the wrong hands, it can cause extreme envy and avarice. In the right hands, it can make a stupid man(or woman) realize what’s sitting right under their very nose and cherish it all the more.
Personally, I like to see my hubby in the grips of the green eyed monster every once in a while. Not that it happens often when you’ve been married over 14 years, but the rare occasions it does, I am filled with a guilty pleasure. Might I even say, a certain erotic delight.
I like knowing that my hubby doesn’t want to share me. That he considers me, “his”. It makes me feel desirable and loved. And do I feel the same in return? Damned straight. Knowing other women desire him is a source of pride, even if it drives me insane. Do I like it? No, but we both tend to reap the benefits because it usually means when we get home I tear off his clothes and remind him of why I’m so special. And lucky me, he reminds me right back.
However, my enjoyment of his covetous nature does have boundaries. For example, I would never condone him attacking someone who complimented me, or to verbally or physically abuse me because he cannot handle his emotions. Some lines should never be crossed. But, grabbing me close to give me a deep kiss, maybe squeezing my ass in plain public thus reaffirming my taken status? Totally acceptable. Even encouraged.
Jealousy is a normal emotion, a strong one at times, that can rouse feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. Many couples have suffered at one time or another from the angst of the green eyed monster. In some cases, it can unfortunately devolve into unhealthy accusations, and violence. Hitting your partner because you can’t handle your emotions is not acceptable under any circumstances. Jealousy should never be used as an excuse to hurt the one you love, to make nasty, unfounded accusations or to do anything that requires extreme forgiveness or a restraining order. If you are truly in love, truly a couple, then trust should be stronger than jealousy. Belief in your partner and their affection for you should be all the reassurance you need. If not, then seek counseling, but never, ever hurt each other. Some acts and words can never be erased.
But let’s move past unhealthy jealousy onto the non-dysfunctional kind because jealousy, after all, comes in many forms and not all of them are evil or painful. The one I’m familiar with is the kind that arises within a couple where one fears losing the other to someone who might offer more–is she prettier, younger, sexier? In my world, that type of insecure jealousy is resolved simply by my better half–my dear hubby–showing with words and actions–the erotic kind–just how much I am loved and cherished for just being me. It can provide a reaffirmation of their bond to each other.
That’s one type, then there’s the jealousy that arises when you see someone that has something you don’t have, but suddenly realize you want. Examples would be where acquaintances for years suddenly realize their friend is someone worth having. It happens when two coworkers start dating and you fantasize about being in their place. It’s your BFF’s big brother never seeing you as more than a sister until one day he realizes you’re all grown up but with someone else.
However, what happens when the one you want is in a relationship and happy? What happens if the one you covet wants you in return–but also wants to keep their other lover? What does it take to shed inhibitions and pride to be with the one you desire? To share a home and a bed with third person all for the sake of loving someone?
I don’t know if I could ever go that far. Even the very idea of someone else touching my hubby drives me insane with jealousy. But, while I don’t feel a need to explore a threesome in my own world, I did explore it in Jealous and Freakn’, the third Freakn’ Shifters book.
In the story, Mitchell’s been avoiding Francine, his sister’s BFF, for years because Francine totally thinks they’re meant to be together. Everything changes when Mitchell sees Francine getting involved with another man. But when she refuses to give Alejandro up, can Mitchell get past his jealousy to become a threesome with the woman he loves? Oh, and to add a little fun to the mix, did I mention they’re all shapeshifters?!
Steamy action, jealous antics and more abound in this stand alone sequel to Delicate Freakn’ Flower. For an excerpt and more, visit my website.
I do hope you enjoy, and remember, the next time the little green eyed monster plays you a visit, use it as an opportunity to show the one you love just how much you love them. Naked of course
“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t take well to orders. Even well-meaning ones.
“Yes. I am.”
She laughed. “And how do you plan on enforcing it? In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re behind bars. What’s to stop me from walking away?”
“Are you that determined and stubborn to spite me that you would prefer to put yourself in harm’s way than accept my help?”
Yes! Even she saw how illogical that was. But she suspected an ulterior motive. “You want more than just to help me.”
“True. I won’t lie. I mean to claim you. Just like the wolf here intends to place his mark when you allow him to.”
“When she’s ready,” Stu interjected, having acted as a silent observer to their argument ’til this point.
At least the wolf had the common sense not to push her buttons. Stu understood her. “Will you wait until I am ready as well?” She arched a brow in query.
“No.” A sensual smile stretched Ricky’s lips, and his eyes practically glowed as he caught her gaze. The more they stood staring at each other, caught in a face off, the more golden they turned. Dizzying. Full of promises. And delights … She blinked first. Ricky grinned in triumph. “Unlike my young friend, I am not a man who waits on the whimsy of others. I see what I want, and I take it. And I definitely want you.”
She couldn’t help how her skin prickled, especially when he raked a smoldering gaze over her body that left no part of her untouched. He threw down the gauntlet, and she should have exploded into a fury. Instead, heat flooded her body as a part of her, a submissive girly part she would have claimed didn’t exist—and immediately wanted to slap silly—exploded with pleasure and ached for him to act on his words. She squashed it as best she could, but feared he’d caught the rise in her body’s temperature by the knowing half smirk on his lips. “Take it? I thought you’d turned over a new leaf? No more stealing and taking things that don’t belong to you.”
“It is not theft to take what is rightfully mine.”
Hello, my name is Eve. I’m a stay at home mom who writes full time in between juggling my three kids, hubby, and housework, I write really raunchy stuff–usually with werewolves lol.I was born in British Columbia, but being a military brat, I have lived a little bit everywhere–Quebec, New Brunswick, Labrador, Virginia (USA) and finally Ontario. My family and I currently live just outside Ottawa, our nation’s capital.
I am the first person to admit I am totally boring and lead a mundane life. Seriously. My idea of fun is shopping at our local Walmart lol. I like to play video games, cook, and read. My inspiration, hmm, I guess you could say hubby as he is a total alpha male which means I often want to club him over head with a frying pan. But, despite his ornery, ‘I-am-man’ nature, I love him dearly.
I’m writing romance, my way. I do have a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor something I like to let loose in my writing. I like strong alpha males, naked chests and werewolves. Lots of werewolves. In fact, you’ll notice most of my multi partner stories revolve around great, big, overprotective Lycans who just want to please their woman. I am also extremely partial to aliens, you know the kind who abduct their woman and then drive them insane…with pleasure of course.
My heroines, they kind of run the gamut. I have some that are shy and soft spoken, others that will kick a man in the balls and laugh. Many of them are chubby, because in my world, girls with curves ROCK! Oh and some of my heroines are a teeny tiny bit evil, but in their defense, they need love too.
Some of my work does push boundaries and cross lines. Good and evil aren’t always clear in my tales, and in some cases, I’ve stomped on well known religious ideologies. Have I mentioned my imagination is a tad bit warped?
I tend to have a lot of sexual tension in my tales because I think all torrid love affairs start with a tingle in our tummies. And when my characters do finally give in to the needs of their flesh? Well, let’s just say, you shouldn’t be reading my stuff at work. The door is wide open, explicit and hot. Really, really hot.
I love to write, and while I don’t always know what my mind is going to come up with next, I can promise it will be fun, probably humorous and most of all romantic, because I love a happily ever after.
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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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Thank You again for choosing Dragon Ugly.
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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Voting ends February 8th. You may vote as many times as you wish but you will have to vote in all the categories if you do.
Again Thank You so much!
One dragon is hot enough, but three can make this tiger shifter burn in the most delightful ways.
Tiger shifter Louisa thought she’d ring in the New Year all alone. Little did she know that three younger dragon shifters plan on making sure she celebrates things right. Add a little steam, a few dragon shifters with dirty minds, and some creative use of furniture and New Year’s Eve becomes the perfect scorching-hot party for four.
Louisa ran a rag over the dark, wood bar and glanced up at the clock. She had a few hours to get home, put on a party hat, and settle down in front of the TV before the ball dropped. Another year gone and alone as usual. Her sister was off partying Goddess only knew where. Not even a call to invite her to a party.
Her thoughts strayed to the Trio of Trouble, her co-workers, Torsten, Brent and Fletcher. The thought of those three sent a shiver down her spine and heat spreading through her stomach. From Brent’s laid-back, easy charm and smile and his sky blue eyes that always glittered with mischief and flirtation to Fletch—she could sense a sensitive soul under all the bluff and bluster. And then there was their leader, the quiet and intense Tor, whose gaze never seemed to stray far from her. In his brown eyes flecked with silver, she could see unspoken desires and emotions as well as thoughts he kept to himself.
Her feline curiosity was always piqued when she looked at him. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. For all the times she tried to ignore her desires for him and his friends, her brain refused to keep her thoughts in order. Like clockwork, the fantasies she tried to keep strictly to nighttime would rise as soon as she saw one of them, and they only increased in intensity when she looked at Tor.
As of late, those fancies had turned to the ménage variety. At first her dreams were plagued by singular encounters. The more she hung around them, the more all of them would filter into her mind during sleep. The idea of having one man had satisfied her, but three—especially those three—brought to mind her nightly fantasies. Her feline side would come to life, adding more intense wants like bondage, the chase, blood and good, long, hard sex. It had been so long since she’d indulged in her tiger’s wants and needs.
Being a tiger was a lot harder to manage than being a lion or jaguar. Tigers had darker wants and needs, more violence. Being pent up in one place didn’t suit. And unlike some other shifters they didn’t settle down with one person. Monogamy was a foreign concept.
Her parents hadn’t been married when she came along, and once she was old enough her father took off and her mother just kept going. Bouncing around from one place to another gave her a sense of never knowing home and, unlike her kin, craving one place to stay and live. Finding Shadowed Bay had been perfect—a haven for paranormal and human to live and work side by side without much fuss or muss.
Now that she had a home, there was nothing she wanted to do to threaten it, and getting involved with one dragon, much less three, wasn’t on her list of wants no matter how much they made her burn and yearn for sex. There was also the resistance to any sort of relationship. Lonely as her existence had been, she didn’t want to be mated.
As soon as she’d come of age, her mother had tried to pass her off to a tiger who was more interested in having a harem than a relationship beyond the sex. After a lot of yelling, threats, and a fight to escape him, she’d been freed, but not without a warning that she was a marked and exiled woman. It had been her luck to be set up with an Alpha Tiger who had a lot of pull and sway. He’d made it clear she was to be shunned by her kind. Tigers and other felines—out of fear—avoided her like the plague unless they had to interact with her, and even then they’d need a written declaration that they hadn’t initiated the encounter, she had.
It pissed her off but she didn’t mind so much. It kept the felines from hitting on her, and feline men could be extremely arrogant, self-centered, and stubborn. They felt they were the cat’s meow whether they were or weren’t. The women could be vain, selfish, and too absorbed in material things. She didn’t subscribe to any of that. Plain, simple and easy. No fuss and no muss and no complications of any kind was her motto, and she lived by that. To her, the young dragons were a complication, and a whole lot of fuss and muss. For one thing, they were young, in their early twenties, and far too good-looking for their own good.
She had no desire to be a notch on their bedposts or something to brag about. The division between dragons and tigers may have ended in a pact but that didn’t mean she had to trust them. Especially when they came in such delicious looking packages. It didn’t help that her cat Whisper loved to be around them—always rubbing up against them, purring loudly when any of them was near—and could always be found on their laps getting a good rub down or a scratch behind her ears. Slut, she thought. If Louisa didn’t know any better, she’d think her cat was trying to match her up with one of the dragons. Whisper didn’t act that way about anyone else, that was for sure.
Her boss, Rune, even commented on Whisper’s attachment to the trio. A soft meow came out of the darkness. The overly fluffy Persian padded toward her. The bottlebrush tail swished back and forth. Her large blue eyes blinked at up her mistress, an expression of contentment on her face. “You ready for the New Year, Whis? You’ll get an extra bit of tuna tonight.”
“Merow?” Whisper sat down. Her tail continued to sweep across the floor. She seemed to know words like tuna, treats, and nap but things like no didn’t seem to make a dent in her kitty brain. Just like a feline, Louisa mused. “Yes, tuna. And no, the trio isn’t here to give you extra treats. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re after.”
“Merow?” Whisper blinked up at her, innocence in her gaze.
Louisa rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to play the innocent. I know you try to get into the catnip when I’m not looking. Anyway, you’ll get extra tuna and some extra petting too. I’ll even make a fire so you can stretch out in front of it. You’ll like that, won’t you?”
Whisper got up and brushed against her in a sinuous glide of fur against denim. A loud purr drifted up to let her know the kitty was satisfied.
After a glance around, she saw there was nothing else to do but blow out the candles. The soft, dim glow had added a lovely, romantic, intimate feel earlier in the night when they’d served an early dinner to parties on their way to other festivities. Now the bar was empty. Louisa didn’t want to leave. She had all the champagne she would need, there was a TV, she had snacks from the kitchen, and her e-reader was in her purse. All she needed was someone to smooch, and the night would be perfect. Spending the night at work wouldn’t exactly be anyone’s ideal for New Year’s Eve, but she didn’t want to return to an empty house. Not again, anyway.
Her thoughts turned to the Triple Heat boys. At least that was what she called them. Usually she avoided even looking at anyone younger than herself. She wasn’t exactly young at thirty-five, but she’d always thought that she’d be married or in a serious relationship by thirty. Work and going back to college to study business management had kept her busy and her nights filled with homework and work schedules. Now that most of that was over, she was alone with only a cat to call company. It was by no means a bad thing but around this time of year, with Christmas, New Year’s, and Valentine’s Day all coming one after another, she really did feel how alone she was. Especially Valentine’s Day. Glowering over the upcoming Cupid-friendly, couples atmosphere that would sweep through the town, she threw the cloth under the bar and made sure everything was as it should be.
Again, Tor, Brent, and Fletch came up. Her body heated and began to hum with arousal. She thought back to nights when sensual dreams of having one or all of the men haunted her. Fantasies of a ménage plagued her waking days as well. Sometimes when she glanced over at them and caught their eyes, a flash of a heated kiss or a little groping in a storeroom, or something more with one or more of them. It took an embarrassing encounter or her boss, Rune, jolting her out of her daydream for her to refocus.
Shaking her head, she shoved back any thought of the trio and all the naughty and corrupt things she’d like to do to them and turned her attention to performing the end of the night clean up. “Besides, just because they wink at you or flirt a bit doesn’t mean they want you,” she grumbled to herself. “I’m older and in no way shape or form going to morph into Scarlett anytime soon. So might as well read about scorching hot sex.”
“Merow?” Whisper responded.
She shook her head. “You don’t care. You just want treats.” With a chuckle, Louisa turned away and headed toward the last of the tables to finish the cleanup.
Explosions burst from outside, casting pink, yellow, blue, and green shadows through the window. The sounds of parties and cheering joined the fireworks. She glanced toward the front of the bar and saw a few shadows drift past. Shifters in their animal forms could be seen. A small smile curled her lips. Her inner tigress watched the reveler with interest.
A sound from the kitchen drew her attention. Her ears prickled as voices reached her. Tension flooded her body as she strained to listen. She crept forward and continued to listen. The tigress hissed and stood up in her cage, ready to act if her human counterpart didn’t.
A soft mewl from over her shoulder made her stop and glance back at Whisper. The Persian darted under a booth chair to hide. Satisfied her pet wouldn’t be in danger, she moved toward the kitchen, listening to the voices increase in volume.
She called on her inner tiger for a partial shift, her nails turned into thin daggers. Her body was hot and primed to pounce and transform. The tiger’s power increased inside her, the pressure growing as energy glided along her muscles and tendons. A dull ache throbbed through her arms, legs, and torso. Her hands shook as she held back the full power of the tiger. Until she was sure the intruders were a threat she wasn’t going to go full tigress on them.
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