Friday, November 29, 2013

DEAD SANTA by Lizzie T. Leaf

DEAD SANTA by Lizzie T. Leaf

The bat bite received when making Christmas Eve deliveries changed Santa. His life and the holiday he loves may never be the same.

Exhausted after his Christmas Eve deliveries, Santa wakes up with hungers he finds hard to control. A bat did fall out of a tree and take a bite out of him when it landed on his neck, but why would that make him lust for blood and sex?

Tired and sore from her husband’s insatiable desire for her body, Mrs. Claus can’t take it any longer. There is only one thing to do—leave this sex manic that has replaced her gentle husband. His new lust for raw meat is bad enough, but his out of control sex drive has her tired and sore and in need of a break. Venturing into the mortal world to stay with their son, she finds a job with an unusual family that sheds light on her husband’s issues.

Shocked at his wife’s departure, Santa is sure he knows why she left and must find a way to control his overheated libido, and his thirst for blood. His head elf learns of the existence a vampire king, sending him into the mortal realm. In his meeting with Daniel, the vampire king, Santa learns of issues far more dangerous than his.

Will what happened to Santa be the break the vampire king needs to stop a drug war that will turn Los Angeles into the drug capitol of the world?



Honey, why don’t you come to bed?”

Lost in concern over how long Santa had been sleeping, Merri gasped and whirled around. The sight of her nude husband holding his erect cock took her breath away. This wasn’t the right day for sex, so what was going on? “It’s not New Years, dear. Are you sure?”

Did he just leer at me? Oh, my stars, I hope so. He’s shaved already too. Another thing that he only does once a year. And he’s Kris.

Tossing the dishtowel on the counter, she sauntered toward the man who stole hear heart over a century ago. Those were the days before the dashing Kris Kringle took over the reins of Santa Claus from his father and magic created the illusion of the portly elf to the mortal children. Never to her though. She usually chose to look past the glamour and hoped he did too. When they made love, they each let the glamour go and became their true selves. The man standing in the doorway was her husband, not the provider of Christmas joy.

Hips swaying, Merri sashayed her way to her him. “Looks like three days of sleep were exactly what you needed.” She rubbed her hand across Kris’s smooth cheeks and smiled, pressing her curves up against him. Yes, the facial hair would grow back, but without his glamour to create an illusion, the growth would come in golden sprinkled with a little gray, not the long white, flowing beard featured in the pictures mortals drew.

She shuddered at the memory of a picture taken of her when she attended a party with her husband in the mortal world. Thanks to the magic forms they assumed, humans or cameras couldn’t penetrate their glamour. The picture that a zealous photographer snapped made her appear to be a short, plump little woman with gray hair.

Nothing could be further from the truth. She wasn’t short, more average height. And yes, her dark hair had streaks of silver, but her body was far from plump. The curves she had as a young girl were still there. All the walks in the frigid Artic air kept her firm and supple.

Merri’s knees weakened when her husband captured her mouth with his. The trail of his warm lips along her jawline stoked the embers of a fire she’d tried to ignore over the past year.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He pushed her toward the bed, untying her apron then moved his hands upward to unfasten the buttons on the back of her dress.


Tuesday, November 26, 2013

THE TROUBLES by Tricia Andersen

THE TROUBLES by Tricia Andersen

The Black Irish Series Book Three

While Sloan and Abbey are in Las Vegas to celebrate Gordon and Mary’s wedding, a enemy from Sloan’s past nearly kills her. Sloan is forced to do the unthinkable – he files for divorce. He moves Sloan Enterprises to Switzerland far away from the woman he loves to save her.

Three years pass. When Sloan invites Robert to Switzerland to celebrate his fortieth birthday, he learns shocking news – Robert is living with Abbey. Refusing to lose Abbey, Sloan relocates the company to Minneapolis, Minnesota where Abbey is living and makes her the Chief Operating Officer. He fights against his desire for her as he contends with her two new beaus, his own new girlfriend, her hostile family and Amelia, his four-year-old daughter.

When his enemy makes another attempt on Abbey’s life, will Sloan be able to save her – or is this a war he just can’t win?



Sloan stood at the glass wall of his bare, undecorated office, staring down at the streets of Zurich, Switzerland. The twilight moon lit the room in a cold, slate blue. He felt like a god overlooking the world below. He watched the headlights of the cars in the street, the people below scurry in and out of the rain. Rushing home to their loved ones, I suppose. Their families. I want mine.
Within a couple of weeks, he had established a firm foundation for Sloan Enterprises. He worked every minute of the day and expected his staff to do the same. He had already fired three assistants and four lawyers. He had purchased the property for two new complexes. He had slapped his name on the building he was standing in. None of it was a salve for what he had had to sacrifice.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Abigail. Nathan should have delivered the papers to her by now. He knew how much a divorce would hurt her. It’s killing me. The thought of letting her go destroyed him. I should have walked away from her in the beginning. I should have never let her in my heart. That wee woman brought me to my knee, and I no longer remember how to stand.
Sloan glanced back at his office. There were no reminders of home—no pictures of Abigail or Ame, no tokens, nothing. The black bookcases that lined the walls were empty except for a few decorative tomes. The steel and glass coffee table was adorned with only a couple copies of trade magazines. The pieces of art on the wall were simple colors. His desk was almost bare except for the phone and computer.

The room was cold. Prison cells had more warmth. He had to close that chapter in his life. He would find a way to move on, letting Abigail go, knowing she was alive. I have no choice. It would be the end of me if I held onto her, and she would be killed.
Then, he swallowed back a growl. Just because he could never be with another woman didn’t mean Abigail wouldn’t give her heart to another man. I can’t stop her. Or beat him within an inch of his life for touching her. The thought that Ame could call another man “Daddy.” My daughter. Being his child. Another man making love to my Abigail. Another man making her his. Abigail carrying his child. Abigail telling another man she loves him. Not me. Him.
He felt his temper peak. He wanted blood. I don’t care who he is. I will make him regret it.
Sloan’s clenched his eyes closed. The pain of missing her was too much. He could call her. Just hearing her voice would be enough. He didn’t even have to talk. He could listen to her answer and hang up. It was admittedly immature, but the quick rush would be worth it. Maybe this whole situation was all an overreaction.

He opened his eyes and stepped to his desk. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on the green silk box that sat beside the phone, the only decoration in his office. It didn’t reside here. It went everywhere with him. A constant reminder of what was at stake.

Letting go a deep sigh, he slumped into his chair. He ran his fingers hopelessly across the cold fabric, his eyes studying the gold embroidered, Oriental pattern. Picking it up, he opened it. He shuddered as his gaze fell on the contents inside, contents that made his stomach churn at the thought of the damage they could inflict.

He struggled to breathe as he shut the box and placed it beside the phone again. He ran his hand through his thick, black hair then rubbed his tired eyes.

It’ll be another sleepless night. I might as well get back to work. He turned to his computer and nudged the mouse to wake it. Seven signed contracts sat waiting in his inbox, along with the digital blueprints to both new complexes. He should be overjoyed. His company was going to be a success. His empire was growing.

My empire will never be complete without its queen. There is only one. One I can never have again. If I dwell on this much longer, I’m going to lose my mind. I’ve already lost my heart.


Thursday, November 21, 2013

BEST OF THREE by Erin Nicholas

BEST OF THREE by Erin Nicholas

Counting on Love, Book 3...

Sometimes it takes a couple of tries before you get love right. 

Emma Dixon is known for getting in over her head—and having a great time doing it. She’s aware her shenanigans rub Nate Sullivan the wrong way, but getting a rise out of the cocky surgeon is one of her favorite pastimes. Truth be told, exasperated looks aren’t the only things she wants from the guy.

Nate has no intention of taking another trip down the falling-in-love road. Women are carefully compartmentalized—to his bedroom. Women who don’t mind his take-charge tendencies. Women very different from sassy, sexy, independent Emma.

But his usual strategy of arguing with Emma to keep from kissing her goes out the window when his son falls in love with her friend’s daughter. Emma sees a normal teenage romance. Nate sees his plans for the boy’s future ruined.

As Nate tries to derail the relationship, Emma runs interference, putting herself directly in the path of the chemistry that grows stronger every time they butt heads. And that could very well lead to the best surprise of all.

Warning: Contains a guy who knows exactly who he is and what he wants and a girl who’s going to change his mind about, well, everything. Plus inappropriate use of chocolate cake (of course, that depends on your definition of inappropriate).


Copyright © 2013 Erin Nicholas
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

“So, why don’t you ever ask me to take my clothes off?”

Nate Sullivan didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t act surprised, or amused or—most of all—interested. “Because X-rays can see through clothes.” He also didn’t lift his head from whatever he was putting into her medical record on the handheld computer.

Emma Dixon sighed. Nate was the one man in the world who looked at her with only exasperation. When he looked at her at all. She hated that she was attracted to him. “But it seems that you’re passing up a great opportunity.”

“Well, seeing women naked is why I went into medicine in the first place,” he said, dragging the pad of his index finger over the screen. “But then shattered bones won my heart and that’s the only thing I want to look at all day long now.”

And that bugged the crap out of her, Emma could admit. Not that she believed Nate didn’t like looking at naked women, but that he didn’t want to see her without her clothes. She wasn’t sure what to do with that. Men always wanted to see her without her clothes on.

“I know you’re not gay. You have Michael, after all,” she said, referring to Nate’s eighteen-year-old son. “Do you have trouble getting it up?”

Nate didn’t even blink as he continued tapping on the screen. He also didn’t look up.

Okay, that was low. Childish even. He just brought out the worst in her. She became this sad attention-seeking-low-self-esteem-over-compensating hormonal teenage girl that she hated when she was around him. She wanted to get a reaction from him. Always. Any time they were together.

“I even wore my pretty bra, in case you wanted to see me in one of those skimpy gowns,” she said, in spite of knowing she would not be proud of whatever came out of her mouth at that point.

Finally, he looked up and handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s a refill on the pain meds and no sex for six more weeks.” He completely ignored all of her attempts to rile him.

Emma looked at the prescription in her hand, then frowned at her surgeon. “You actually wrote that on the prescription?”

“Makes it official. This way, if you do it anyway and then come back in here complaining about how bad your hip hurts, I can officially say ‘told you so’.”

Emma resisted the urge to growl at him. Barely. “Seriously? It’s already been twelve weeks.”

He raised an eyebrow, in that very irritating you’re-acting-like-a-four-year-old way he had. She swore he only gave that look to her.
“Six more weeks.”

Nate Sullivan was cocky. Full of himself. Had a god complex. The whole nine yards. And he was completely and utterly immune to her charms. That made him more unique than the fact that he could put anyone back together again, no matter the trauma. It was thanks to him that she was now in one piece after the car accident and that she was walking again.

Knowing that she owed the guy who could make her crazy in under two minutes, made her…crazy.

“My physical therapist says that it’s ridiculous to still have a sex limitation after this long,” she said, folding the script and putting it in her pocket. She would fricking follow the damned thing because she would rather chew glass than hear “I told you so” from Dr. Sullivan.

“Does he?” Nate didn’t seem concerned. He was sliding her X-rays back into their envelope.
“He says that I won’t know what I can do until I try it.”

“You sure he was talking about sex and not jogging?”

“You said no jogging yet either.”


“He says that part of his job is to help me try the things that might be a challenge at first. You know, the whole physical therapy thing. He says I can try the new things out with him.”
That got Nate to look up. “Jogging, right?”

She leaned back, bracing her hands on the exam table behind her. God, there was something about him in that long lab coat and tie. She never saw him like that. He played football on the same amateur team as her brother, the Omaha Hawks, and he hung out with the guys afterward down at their favorite bar, Trudy’s, so she always saw him in uniform or jeans. And he looked very fine in both. But once he’d become her doctor—not that she’d had any say in that, having been unconscious and all at the time—she’d seen him dressed up and in charge. And damned if it didn’t make her tingle every time.

“Do you really think I need to wait six more weeks?”
“To jog?”

She allowed a long pause before saying, “Sure. Jogging.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yes. I think you need to wait six more weeks to…jog.”

She had no desire to jog. She hadn’t been a big fan of it before her accident and, frankly, the idea of landing on her hip and pelvis like that made her shudder. It didn’t hurt much anymore but it seemed she always expected it to.

Nate started to turn away, then stopped. She followed his gaze to what had caught his attention. Her cane.
“What’s that?”

“You walk around here like a know-it-all but you’ve never seen one of those?” she asked, her stomach knotting. She knew what he was going to say. It was the same thing her therapist had been saying for four weeks. She didn’t need the cane anymore.

And when they broke their pelvises, they could toss the cane after eight weeks if they wanted to. This was her recovery.

Instead of grilling or lecturing her, however, Nate pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, dialed and lifted it to his ear, all the while watching her. “This is Dr. Sullivan. I need to talk to Bruce.”
Her physical therapist. Great.

He didn’t even bother to greet Bruce. “Why is Emma Dixon still walking with a cane?”

He paused to listen, then said, “Get her off of it,” and hung up. He pocketed the phone and turned away, adding something to her medical record.
“Seriously? You don’t want to talk to me about it?”

“Bruce told me what I needed to know, and I told him what he needed to know,” Nate said without looking up.
She felt the knot of tension tighten. “What did he say?”
“You know better than anyone what he said, Emma.”

She felt her tummy flip at his use of her name. It was so stupid, but he rarely called her Emma, and never called her Em like everyone else did, so when he used her name, it always startled her. “He told you that he tried to get me off of it, but I won’t do it, right?”

“I don’t want to get rid of it yet. Why isn’t that okay?”

“Because it’s ridiculous. You can’t expect to make progress if you aren’t willing to try.”

“It’s okay for me to not have sex for six more weeks, but I can’t keep the cane?”


“Because in my professional opinion, that’s what needs to happen.”

God, he was frustrating. He was so damned bossy. She’d seen him yell and get riled up on the football field, but most of the rest of the time he seemed—stuck up. Conservative. Uptight. Something. She loved to try to rile him simply because it was so interesting to see him get worked up. She seemed to be the only one who could really get him going. He’d argue with her, when he’d shrug at everyone else who disagreed with him. She always loved sparring with him.

But she hadn’t imagined such a dominant, I’m-the-boss side of him.
And she certainly hadn’t imagined liking it.

“I’m not ready to get by without the cane yet,” she said. She could be equally stubborn. Ask any of her siblings.
“But you are ready for sex?”

Something about the way he said it, or was looking at her, or something, made her need to take a deep breath. “Maybe.”

“Is there someone that you’re dying to get back in bed with?”

But that was neither here nor there. Nor was it any of his business anyway. She didn’t have anyone she wanted to sleep with, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be ordered not to sleep with anyone by her annoying, I-know-better-than-everyone-else-in-the-world doctor.

She didn’t care if he did know better than everyone else in the world about her injury and its repair.

It was so strange, looking at him now, to think that he’d seen parts of her body that no one ever had and, god-willing, no one else ever would. That he’d had his hands inside her, putting her back together, was strangely intimate.
Or stupid.

It was definitely that.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked. Did Nate truly care who she was sleeping with? Surely not.

“I would not be pleased to know that one of the physical therapists I refer to the most is having an inappropriate relationship with one of his patients.”

She frowned. “I’m not sleeping with Bruce.”

Nate seemed satisfied with that simple answer. Which also irritated her. If he cared, he didn’t care much.

“No sleeping with anyone for six weeks. At least,” Nate said.

She tipped her head, watching him, hating him for looking so good in a tie, hating herself for liking him in a tie. She didn’t go for guys in ties generally. She liked blue-collar guys, guys who worked with their hands. Her attention dropped to Nate’s hands and she had to swallow hard. He worked with his hands. He’d had his hands all over her. He’d worked for hours to make sure she was okay. Her life had been in his hands.
And she’d been unconscious for the whole thing.

And that disappointed her.

Which she freaking hated.

She’d been in a car accident. She’d been bloody and broken. He’d cut her open, for god’s sake. There wasn’t one damned thing about it that was sexy or hot. She needed to get a grip.

This was all a product of Nate being the one guy she couldn’t seduce. He could resist her. More, he could make her feel stupid and silly. She hated that more than anything else.

She slid off the table and slipped her sandals back on her feet. “I’m tired of that topic and I have my paper for more drugs, so I’m gonna head out.”

She pulled the hem of her top down—the top that Nate definitely did not want her to take off—and ran a hand through her hair. But as she twisted the doorknob, Nate again used her name.

Schooling her features before she turned, she gave him a bored look. “What?”

She hadn’t behaved since she was six. “See that’s where this doctor-patient thing stops working,” she told him, pulling the door open. “You can control my medication and you can bully my physical therapist. You can even keep me from all of my favorite workouts. But nobody has the power to make me behave.”

Wednesday, November 20, 2013



Book 4, Masters of Tabu

A cowboy and a supermodel ignite unbridled passion in the Texas heat.

Shane Marshal struggles to keep his family’s cattle ranch above financial flood waters. With help from friends, he turns the homestead into a BDSM retreat. He can’t keep his mind on business when a single woman from New York with legs to infinity arrives. To tamp down his lustful thoughts, he goes out of his way to give her grief, but she doesn’t flinch. He needs a new strategy.

Valentina Halston, a high fashion model, changed her name from Sharon Berger to hide her past. After finding her boyfriend in delicato with another model, she books a vacation at a dude ranch with BDSM activities in search of change. Rest and relaxation, fresh air, no phones, no paparazzi, and no cheating boyfriend sounded perfect. Instead, she finds more than she could imagine.



He locked onto the area at the end of the aisle, the direction she’d last been seen. Her stubbornness or should he say lack of concern for others’ schedules was rude, disrespectful, and he had a mind to go drag her ass out of the washroom and teach her a lesson.

“You noticed too?”

“Yeah, them city folks. Gotta watch them to keep ‘em outta trouble.”

“Yeah.” Shane blindly stroked Lucky’s mane, staring at the end of the aisle. “I don’t know what her problem is.”

“Her, huh? Take it she didn’t read the fine print.”

“What?” Shane glanced over his shoulder at Jake. Where had his mind wandered? “No, I don’t think she did.”

“With her looks, she’s probably used to having men take care of her. She’s an easy fix. The others are another story. The men outside are acting all macho, and their ladies are giggling little girls, petting the horses like they’re puppy dogs. Ya sure you don’t want me to come along and help, ‘cuz I can tell you’ll have yer hands full with them.”

“Naw, I’m good. If I take anyone, I’ll snatch Ty to come along. I’d rather you stay here and keep an eye on Luck.”

Jake tossed his hat on the hook by the door and ran a hand through gray hair sweat plastered to his head, loosening the normally wild mop. “I really don’t mind, Shane. I’ve gone on the rides with the guests other times. I know which trails to take. Ty’s a good kid, ‘cepten he might get a little too flirty with them pretty girls and get in some trouble, ‘specially the real tall one. She’s a looker. I saw him eyeing her last night.”

Shane’s gut clenched. Ty moving in on Sharon didn’t sit well with him. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

The suspicion on his manager’s face said he didn’t quite buy the half-ass detour for an explanation. Shane knew the familiar look on the old man’s face. He swore Jake could read his mind and knew more was behind him warning Ty off than policy.

“I get yer reasoning with the no associatin’ rule. Somethin’ tells me ya’ve taken a likin’ to her too. Am I right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s my policy, and I expect everyone to abide by the rules.”

“Lord a mighty, boy. I’d say ya’ve got it bad.” Jake patted Shane on his shoulder. “I knew it. Ya like the pretty girl who could step outta one of them New York City fashion magazines.”

How did the old cuss know anything about fashion magazines? The man lived and breathed cattle and the ranch since his wife died ten years ago. “I don’t have it bad. The only problem I have is she’s messing with my employees and with my schedule. I don’t want trouble. Golden Springs means everything to me.”

Jake leaned against the post of the stall door. “Ya don’t fool me, Shane Marshal. These old eyes of mine aren’t as strong as they used to be, but I ain’t blind to the looks passing between ya two since she got out of the van yesterday. My hearin’ is dang good too. Ya also were mumbling about missin’ supper last night to be out here with Lucky instead of gettin’ to know her. Talk to me, boy. What’s going on in yer head?”

“Nothing.” Shane scrubbed his face with both hands. Shit. Jake called him “boy” and had since he’d been a toddler. He also never put up with his crap, or “nonsense”. Jake managed to run the ranch for him and helped him out when his family died. The old man was his friend and family more than Golden Springs’ manager. When Jake called him by his name and not boy, he was serious. Who was he kidding? He’d used Jake as a sounding board since his first girlfriend in grade school. He’d never been able to talk to his father. Why should now be any different? Shane had to end this conversation and get the trail ride on the road, so to speak, not bear his soul to his old friend.


Monday, November 18, 2013

SLAVE FOR SEX by Laura Tolomei

SLAVE FOR SEX by Laura Tolomei

Rydan’s dead lover returns as a green faerie, seducing him into passionate sex and submission, but will he trust her enough to change his destiny?

Alone, having lost the love of his life, Rydan has visions of a mysterious creature in the forest. Who is she? And what will happen when he finally meets her in the flesh to learn about the secrets of sex and passion? But that’s not all she’ll reveal, and the truth about his world will blow his mind away.

Will he trust her enough to believe her or will he surrender to the sensual attraction of burning desire neglecting his duties?



"Good morning, little one.” Rydan smiled at it.

The first time he had seen it, he had been scared. He recalled it perfectly because Kyraen had just died. Now, after countless encounters, he had gotten used to it. Still, he had no idea what the creature was.

Not a plant for sure. Not one of his campmates, either, even if in some thing it resembled them. Slender body full of sensual curves, green hair down below her shoulders, intriguing eyes, soft oval face, less rugged, with an inconspicuous jaw line and high cheekbones—it looked so different from everything he had grown up with, yet human…in an unexplainably different way.

Which was not the strangest thing.

Impossible though it seemed, something about the creature’s face belonged to Kyraen. The more he stared at it, the more he saw Kyraen.

Which had blown his mind away.

To the point he had returned to the clearing time and time again.

“Today is my birthday, Kyraen.” In lack of a formal name, his dead lover’s seemed appropriate. “And I’ll celebrate it with a special feast tonight.” He sat down in front of the creature.

It remained standing, looking at him sympathetically.

“Laird hasn’t told me much.” A part of his mind was still incredulous at finding his dead lover in this creature. “From what I heard, it’ll be quite an experience.” At how much stronger the impression of being with his dead lover had grown over time. And if it made no rational sense, his heart told him otherwise.

The unsettling resemblance, more than anything else, had prompted Rydan to make a connection with the creature. Then to develop a friendship in which he poured his heart’s grief for Kyraen. Maybe because he had spotted the sadness dimming the brilliant green of its eyes the first time he had talked about it.

Maybe because he just felt abandoned.

“The creatures I’m going to meet are quite exciting, or so people assured me.”

The creature made a concerned face.

No, it did not talk back. It did not breathe a sound. Nor moved too much, except to escape his touch the few times he had attempted it. Like the plants, it did not want physical contact with the likes of him. Like the plants, he had come to accept it.




Want to know all about Atlantis’s last days? Let the Moon Priestess mesmerize you with her enchanted tale of love and betrayal.

Her nightmares warn of impending doom on her home, Atlantis, but how to ensure her people’s survival?

And why has her lover fallen for a mysterious stranger, bewitched and intrigued to the point he isn’t listening to her anymore, to her who is the only Moon Priestess?



“Wow.” Shaking the last drops off his monster, Jaydon let it fall on Vyler’s crotch. “That was fucking fantastic.” And from the thud it made, it was still hard.

“You make it so.” Stretching out his arms, Vyler pulled Jaydon down on him. “And I can’t get enough.”

“I can see that.” Jaydon settled on Vyler’s chest. “Particularly since you had sex with her before coming to me.”

“How could you tell?”

“Your cock tasted of her.” As if to emphasize the words, he licked his lips. “And I have to admit she doesn’t taste bad at all.”

“Still thinking we can screw her together?” It was one of Jaydon’s ideas, though Vyler was not sure why he would suggest such a thing.


“How do you suppose to convince her?” Ironic, his lips curved in a snarl. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Imagine how well she’d take you asking her about having sex—”

“Whoever said I’d ask?” At the huskiness of his voice and the gray eyes’ malicious gleam, Vyler’s cock twitched. “I want to take her, period.”

“But she’s the Moon Priestess.” Worried now, Vyler tried sitting up.

“She’s a woman first.” But Jaydon’s weight prevented any movement. “And like with any woman, you just have to find the right way to convince her that what you’re offering is exactly what she wants.”

“Aren’t you overrating yourself?” Skeptical, he took Jaydon’s face between his palms. “She’s no ordinary woman—”

“And I’m no ordinary man.” Self-assured, Jaydon smirked. “Or need I remind you that, before me, you didn’t consider men as sexual preys?”


“There are no buts.” The kiss cut off Vyler’s objections, along with his breath. “Only things to do.” The second time their mouths met, Jaydon’s tongue parted Vyler’s lips for a slow sweep that perked up his shaft’s interest. “And it really wouldn’t be hard.” The tongue traced Vyler’s jaw upward, landing inside his ear. “Just bring her to me, and I’ll show you how easily she’ll beg for the both of us.”


HUNTED by Laura Tolomei

HUNTED by Laura Tolomei

 A vicious predator brings bloody death to a peaceful village. On his hunt to stop the brutal killings, Kendryck will uncover truths best left hidden.

Why is this vicious predator terrorizing the village? Who is Therry, and why does he live deep inside the forest, away from mankind? But mostly, why can’t Kendryck get him out of his mind?

As the hunt progresses, so does his fascination with the most intriguing young man the hunter has ever met, until things don’t add up, and Therry’s dark secrets will have to be revealed…eventually.



The body lay in a pool of blood. The smell pierced his nostrils and he inhaled it deeply. The predator had left visible marks all over the mangled flesh, ripped skin and thorn muscles strewn around like scattered toys left behind by a naughty child. Kendryck narrowed his gaze on the deathly scene, annoyed with the scarce light that did not allow a thorough examination. As usual, the forest keeps its secrets in darkness, he mused, although he had no trouble determining the cause of death. The same predator had struck again, the third killing in just over a month.

Having finished his analysis, he gathered some rocks to protect the body. He could not carry it alone the entire way. Instead, he would leave it there and run back to the village to seek help. When he was just about done, he heard a cry.


Kendryck ran in the voice’s direction. The forest was oddly quiet as he sped through the tall trees, their thickness not allowing a clear view. Luckily, he now knew the territory by heart, so placing the sound was no particular effort. The voice called from an opening just a short distance away from the body.

“Help,” the cry rang out again.

The rest of nature was deathly silent―no bird song, no tiny feet scurrying away disturbing the stillness. Coming behind the trees, Kendryck saw the back of a slim figure, all dressed in black. The youth’s shoulders moved back just as the hunter saw the flick of a black tail disappearing inside the vegetation. So, the feline really exists, Kendryck thought, looking at the last of the long tail. “Hey,” he called out to the young man. “Are you all right?”

The man turned and flashed a pair of luminous green eyes on the hunter. He looked young, though something of his expression did not quite match the apparent age. Dark haired, he was tall and very slim. His face was interesting, though triangular in shape. In fact, he almost resembled a feline more than a human and Kendryck wondered briefly whether he was the predator’s relative.

“Thank you,” the youth said, moving towards him. “Without your intervention, the beast would have eaten me.”

He moved elegantly, Kendryck noticed, swaying slightly from side to side in a seductive way that he found intriguing.

When he reached the hunter, the boy flashed a bright smile. “How can I thank you?”

Kendryck was taken aback. Usually, victims from near death experiences at close range with predators did not react like casual tourist on a relaxing visit at the forest grounds. “Weren’t you afraid?” he asked, rather than answer the question.

The young man shrugged. “I live in the forest, so it wasn’t the first encounter of the kind. I’ve learned to dominate my fear. It usually never helps in times of crisis.”

Again, the boy struck him as much older than he looked. “I guess you’re right,” Kendryck agreed. “Anyway, you have nothing to thank me for. The beast had already left by the time I got here.”

“She left because she heard you coming,” the youth objected. Then, before Kendryck could deny any further responsibilities, he extended his hand. “By the way, I’m Therry.”

“Nice to meet you,” the older man said, surprised he really meant it. “I’m Kendryck and I’m one of the hunters who should find the beast.”

“Oh, she won’t let you find her that easily,” Therry assured.

“Did you get a good look at it? Our problem is that we don’t even know what it looks like.”

“She’s like a big black cat. That’s all I saw. As I said, when she heard you come, she left in a hurry.”

“How do you know it’s a female?” Kendryck asked interested.

Therry shrugged. “She looks female,” was the cryptic answer as he moved away from the hunter, heading inside the trees.

Disappointed to see him leave so soon, Kendryck followed the youth. “Where are you going?”


“So, you really do live in the forest,” Kendryck observed, knowing the village lay behind them.

“Of course, I do,” Therry confirmed, without stopping.

Kendryck reached him. “Maybe I should accompany you…just in case the beast returns.”

“As you like.”

They walked in silence for a while. Therry picked his way carefully, seemingly unafraid. Kendryck followed closely, checking each bush for a sign of the predator. But the way was clear and thankfully the forest was back to normal again. With a lighter pace, he felt the odd stillness slipping away just as birds chirped their melodious songs a little louder.

Soon, they came to a deserted little hut in a clearing. Therry opened the door and Kendryck followed inside.

“Do you live alone?” he enquired.

“No, I live with my woman.”

“But why have you settled so far away from the village?” Kendryck wondered aloud.

Ignoring his question, Therry went to a makeshift fireplace, built with stones. Over the bright flames, a metallic structure held a pail of water. The youth took down the pail and checked the water. “Would you like some herb infusion?” he asked, replacing the pot over the burning fire.

Kendryck was tempted to refuse. Usually, he disliked encouraging any form of social acquaintance, particularly with strangers. Yet, the youth intrigued him, his unconventional ways attracting more than a fair share of the hunter's attention. “All right,” the hunter agreed at last.


Friday, November 15, 2013

SUMMER SINS by Kathy Kulig

SUMMER SINS by Kathy Kulig

 Master Adrian knows how to bring exquisite pain or pleasure to a woman’s body. Before he’ll take on an inexperienced submissive, he expects her to pass a series of seductive tests of increasing intensity to see if she’s receptive to his unique and dark skills. Under his command and relentless determination, she’ll relinquish control to him.

Emma is known to thoroughly research her articles for the tabloid magazine Scandal. Her latest assignment to write about Dark Odyssey, a new BDSM club, is her chance to indulge in her taboo desires for the sex she craves as a submissive. With her job and future career on the line, she has to write a lurid, gossip story. But her heart isn’t in it because she falling for Adrian.

Raw and hot passion draws them past guarded limits, but when secrets are revealed, trust will be the final test for true love.


By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: Summer Sins

Copyright © KATHY KULIG, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

When Adrian walked into the foyer he spotted Cynthia and the redhead standing next to her. His body immediately responded with a tug in the gut and a tightening in his groin. She was a tad shorter than Cynthia, which would put her at about five-seven. The green dress molded to her curvy body, athletic but not skinny. Fair skin gleamed with a natural glow. He lived in Florida but he was as pale as some of the snowbirds. Carter was right, he worked too damn much.

 As if she sensed his perusal, she looked his way and made eye contact. Confident, intelligent eyes, but slightly vulnerable. As a sub, she’d be perfect if that was her inclination. He didn’t like subs who had no mind of their own. They were overly dependent, needy. Too bad she had no experience.

“Hey, Emma.” Carter walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Meet our friend, Adrian Cayne.”

They shook hands and exchanged greetings. For a newbie she didn’t seem that nervous or managed to cover it up well.

“Emma is a caretaker at an animal shelter,” Carter said. “And Adrian’s a doctor.”

 “What specialty?” Emma asked.

“Neurosurgery,” Adrian said. “What kinds of animals have you cared for?”

 “Mostly dogs and cats. When I worked at Animal Kingdom, I had a chance to work with all types.”

 “What brought you down here?” Adrian asked.

“It was… A number of things brought about the relocation.” She didn’t explain.

 Maybe she moved with a boyfriend and it didn’t work out. He wasn’t going to press.

“I just love this room,” Cynthia said, changing the subject as she gazed out toward the ocean. “It’s still quiet, but on busy nights, this room is full of guests. You usually won’t see couples or groups having sex out here, just touching, sometimes getting naked. Hard core stuff goes on in the rooms.”

 “Has anyone explained the rules yet?” Carter asked Emma.

“Not completely.”

 “An open door is an invitation to watch,” Adrian offered. “Those playing inside a room must invite you in. Guests can’t just waltz in during a group scene. It’s rather rude and you’ll probably get thrown out. If there are enough complaints, a guest can be asked to leave the club.” He watched her expression. A Dom could pick up the smallest telltales. He focused his attention on her soft, hazel eyes. She was looking at him and around the room, alert, taking in every detail. The muscles in her jaw and long neck were relaxed but she gripped the strap of her purse with a tight fist.

 Adrian had numerous encounters in here over the years. Eager subs anxiously anticipating a scene. Could she be his next eager sub? Or was she a newbie who thought she might like bondage only to freak out the moment she had to give up a little control. That was the disadvantage of taking on a new submissive.

“Dark Odyssey was overdue,” Carter explained to Emma. “The one semi-bondage room with restraint table and swing was very popular. Patrons kept requesting more rooms with better bondage equipment.” He pointed the way toward a long hallway where the old playrooms were. He described the rules—how no, meant no. If any guest approached her and she told him no and was still pressured, then tell one of the guys in the black TropiX T-shirts.

 Adrian stood beside her. “You’re not saying much?”

She jumped and looked up at him. “I’m taking it all in. This is new for me.”

 “Adrian!” A woman called from across the room. It took him a moment but he recognized the voice. Every muscle in his body tensed. If he had known she would be here, he wouldn’t have come.

 Jill strutted across the room in killer platform heels and a slinky silvery-white dress that was practically see-through. Her brown hair was longer since he’d seen her last, pulled back from her shoulders. More of her breasts hung out of the dress than were contained. Her rosy areolas showed through the flimsy material. Sliding between Adrian and Emma, her back rudely facing Emma, she put her arms around him and kissed him. “I’ve missed you, Master. So glad to see you’re back. Will you take me to Dark Odyssey this evening?” She lowered her head and slid her hands down his chest.
Grasping her hands, Adrian gently pulled them away. “Good to see you, Jill. I’m with friends this evening.” He stepped back to introduce Emma, Cynthia and Carter.

 Jill gave Emma a quick up-and-down glance and apparently decided she wasn’t competition. “Would you like me to give you all a tour of Dark Odyssey?” She hooked arms with Adrian.

“Thanks, Jill, but Cynthia and Carter will be giving us a tour.” He knew how possessive and needy she could be and he didn’t want to get into that now.

 Jill’s expression hardened with a forced smile. “Enjoy the tour. I’ll talk to you later, Adrian. I’ll be down here for a while unless I meet someone.”

 “Have a good evening,” he said. The others, including Emma said goodbye.

“I didn’t know she was going to be here,” Cynthia said, obviously concerned.

 Across the room, two men and a woman on one of the sofas fondled one another. The men groped her breasts and between her legs. A second later, her blouse was off and one man sucked her nipples.
The woman had her hand down one guy’s pants while kissing the other man. Adrian noticed Emma watched them with parted lips.

“Anything appeal to you? Or offend?” Adrian asked.
“I like the openness and sensual atmosphere,” she said. “I feel safe. I’m not sure if I’d get into the group thing. Although, I can’t say I wouldn’t try it. But what always interested me was bondage. I don’t claim to understand it, but I’m intrigued by it.” She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Her hands were grasped tightly together.

 Adrian noticed everything. A twitch of a muscle was a clue when he was pushing his partner toward her limit. Emma had the most expressive eyes, sensual and innocent, but defiant too.

 His groin tightened again and he clenched his teeth. It had been too long since he fucked a sweet sub, drew every ounce of pleasure from her until she moaned in ecstasy. To have a sub willing to surrender, willing to allow him to push her beyond her limits was what he needed badly. Could he have a woman in a vanilla-only relationship? “You have a question? You look confused. Have you not seen a ménage before?”

 “I’ve not watched one before. I was wondering if a Dom has more than one submissive?”

He smiled. “Depends whether he wants to be exclusive or not.”

“We’ll show you Dark Odyssey before it gets crowded,” Cynthia said.


Wednesday, November 13, 2013

HONEY DOES by Kate Richards

HONEY DOES by Kate Richards

Honey is a woman in love…with her husband. But after several years of marriage and three kids, she fears he may see her more as wife and mother than the sexy woman he married.

Maybe a daring sex toy will bring the spark back. But when Honey tries out the toy, things spiral out of control.

Mack is a cop on the beat, working hard to move up in the force. He’s troubled by the domestic violence he sees on the job and fears that someone else’s family troubles could take him away from his beloved family.

But the real threat comes from within his own department leaving his career and his wife in danger.



She clicked on the tracking number and confirmed. Out for delivery.

“What’s up, Honey?”

She jumped. “What?”

He dropped a kiss on her head. “Is my lunch ready?”

“On the counter.” Like every morning.

“Thanks. Anything exciting going on today?”

She minimized the screen. “Oh, you know...” He didn’t…but he would soon enough.

“Everything okay?” She was kind of surprised he noticed her distraction, but touched. Honey spun her desk chair and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his warm, just-big-enough-to-be-comforting belly. Mack had gained some weight in their years together, but it did nothing to lessen his appeal for her. His red hair was combed back, still damp from the shower.

“Everything is fine, and thank you for asking.”

“Okay.” The big goon kissed her hair again, and she let him go. “Have a good day.” He scooped up his lunch box and headed toward the door, off to spend his shift with grownups. With his partner. All day in the squad car with Sexy Sandy.

The woman should be a model instead of a cop. Not that she didn’t trust Mack, but why couldn’t he have been assigned someone a little less…blonde?

Honey’s gaze darted back to the screen. The answer to all their worries would be delivered by the guys in brown. Appropriate for the item. Even if not one of them could compete with the erotic lure of the guy she made dinner for every night.

Ten minutes later, she walked the kids to the bus, waved while they left then raced back to begin the real work of the day. Waiting for the box.


Tuesday, November 12, 2013

WHO SAW THE DEEP by Christine Klocek-Lim

WHO SAW THE DEEP by Christine Klocek-Lim

When Noah moves back home after grad school, he doesn’t expect a simple handyman job to turn deadly. Amelia seems like a sweet old lady with a run-down house, but appearances can be deceptive. When an alien ship lands in her woods, Noah discovers that everything he believed about Earth and human civilization is wrong.

Amelia already gave her heart to one man—does she really want to let another one inside? Even though Noah is everything she ever wanted, can she really trust him? He seems like a good person, but her family’s genetic legacy is more important than romance.

When all their secrets are laid bare, Noah and Amelia discover that the survival of their species may be more dependent on love than either could have imagined. Civilization endures because of anonymous acts executed by ordinary individuals. And love, especially in the face of betrayal, is worth everything.



“Noah, hold up.”

He ignored her. She dug her heels into the ground and hung on. He stopped, reluctantly turning. She looked at his face, so dear. The rain had matted down his hair, the brown strands sticking to his cheeks. She reached up, picking apart some of them, letting her fingers linger over his eyelids. She’d liked him almost from the first moment he’d come to her house, hands shoved into his jeans, face tired. She let her fingers fall down to his lips and his expression softened.

“We don’t have time for this,” he said gently. She shook her head, drew him closer. He came willingly and she dug her nose into his chest as they clung to each other. When she lifted her face, he kissed her roughly, as if afraid she wasn’t real. She hung onto him, kissing back until the chill from the rain disappeared and all she could think about was the heat between them. He groaned, kissing down her jaw, hands shaking.

“I’m not dead,” she said.

He hugged her tighter, trembling. “Your skin was all black. God.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Um, ewww.”

He choked out a laugh. “Yeah, it was certainly gross. I waited for you to disintegrate, but you never did. I grabbed you and the house collapsed around us as I ran. I didn’t know what to do.” He pulled back. Amelia couldn’t tell if he was crying—the rain soaked them both.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you about me.” She sighed. “I didn’t know if I should tell you.”

“Leah doesn’t believe you, does she?” he asked, voice soft.

A pang of terror raced through her as she thought about facing her daughter again.

“No. I tried to explain it to her but she thinks I’m crazy. It’s not like I could demonstrate.” She turned away, began walking down the trail again. “I mean, how do you explain this to your daughter?” She waved at herself.

Noah slung his arm around her shoulders. “What happens if you kill yourself?”

From the light tone of his voice, Amelia knew he had no idea. “I would die for real,” she said, flatly.

He stopped, face drawn. “Okay, I could see how that would be bad.”

She snorted. “Why do you think there aren’t more of us running around? The women in my family are immortal. We live and die and then come back to life. Like pushing a reset button. One of us could conceivably do this forever.”

Noah shuddered, clearly thinking of the larger picture.

“Exactly. And yes, before you ask, some of us tried. My mother told me stories about a few of our ancestors who went insane after centuries of rebirth. She mentioned one who forced a slave to kill her every year so she never aged.” Amelia’s step faltered.

“So how come there aren’t more of you?” Noah asked.

“We have two weaknesses: we can kill ourselves and we can kill each other.”

“But that means—” he broke off, his voice cracking.

“Yeah. We eat our own.”


Monday, November 11, 2013



Heroic Measures Trilogy Book One

Honoring those who have served their country in war, most focus on those who have fought on the battlefields. But one group's heroics under fire have slipped through the pages of history, a group whose blood and sweat were left in operating rooms and hospital tents, a group whose heroism has seldom been measured.

For nurse Gwen Spencer, fighting battles is nothing new. An orphan sent to live with a vengeful aunt, Gwen picked coal and scrubbed floors to earn a living. But when she decides to become a nurse, she steps outside the boundaries of her aunt's demands…and into a world of her own making.

Leaving her hometown for France, she helps doctors mend thousands of brutally injured Doughboys under primitive conditions. Amid the chaos, she volunteers to go ever forward to the front lines. Braving bombings and the madness of men crazed by the hell of war, she is stunned to discover one man she can love. A man she can share her life with.

But in the insanity and bloodshed she learns the measures of her own desires. Dare she attempt to become a woman of accomplishment? Or has looking into the face of war and death given her the courage to live her life to the fullest?



When she did return to the tent, she had Colonel Scott in tow. She'd told him nothing except their German was now awake, aware and spoke English. She thought it best to let the officer discern the veracity of the man.

"Nurse Spencer tells me you speak our language. Might I ask you where you learned it?"

"At my mother's knee, Colonel. Captain Adam Fairleigh, His Majesty's Forces. Forgive me, sir, I would greet you appropriately but our erstwhile nurse has strapped me to the bed."

"Then you must need restraining," Scott replied. "What the hell is this that you say you're with the Brits?"

"I am, sir. I am attached to General Pershing's staff, Chaumont."

"As what? How do you speak Hun so well and why in God's name are you in one of their uniforms?"

Fairleigh arched both brows, looking at the short American down his very elegant straight nose. "Liaison to the American Commander, sir. Since December. I speak excellent German because my maternal grandmother came from Saxe-Coburg, the same principality as our late Prince Albert. I speak German, sir, as well as I do English. Before the war, that was no crime, but an asset."

"I see. And how do you come by this uniform?"

Their patient was no longer so quick or cocky. "I took it off a dead man."

Gwen swallowed hard at the savage image of this man removing clothing from a corpse.

"I had managed to crawl across a zone where they were not shelling. I thought if I could reach one of their forward trench lines, then I-"

"Preposterous. How did you get that far in your own uniform?"

"I went in peasants' rags. Our lines abut an old village where only a few huts still stand."

"Why discard your rags for a German captain's uniform?"

"Well, sir, he was not only dead but conveniently my size."

That shut the man up.

Gwen could only marvel at this creature in the bed.

"When I came upon their trench, I could hear their conversation below. Luck was with me. That bunker was a communications center. If I could get in there, I might learn quite enough to make my mission worthwhile. Of course, I couldn't do that, couldn't speak German to them and have them believe I was one of them if I wore French farmer's culottes, could I? So I crept around…among their dead whose bodies they had not retrieved." He stared at the American with blank eyes. "I happened upon the captain who seemed my height. Then I waited until night fell and-"

He halted, regarding Gwen once more. "I buried my rags and crawled into their trench. They accepted my story. I was privy to their orders that were to move their gun emplacements. Then, as you can expect, I was stuck with them, considered one of them. I had to run with them. I had no opportunity to escape until two nights later when the French opened a barrage in our sector."

He lifted a hand, let it drop to the sheets. "I managed to hang back when they retreated with their line. I set out to No Man's Land and prayed to Christ I'd find my way across to French lines. This took me…I'm not clear. A night. Two?" He shrugged. "Here I am."

"Who is your American liaison in Pershing's staff?"

"Colonel Samuel Rustings."

Scott nodded, a hint of a smile curling his lips. "I see."

"I gather you know him."

"Same class at West Point."

"Well, then. If you telegraph him, he will verify who I am and my mission. He knew I went out, you see."

"A man from headquarters is already on his way here."


"We thought we had ourselves a Heinie."

The man's mouth quirked in bitterness. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Oh, you'll do, sir. What did you say your name was?"

Gwen noticed that Scott had not addressed him by his rank.


"We'll see what our man from Chaumont has to say about you. In the meantime, my private is outside the tent."

Fairleigh inclined his head in acknowledgement of his warder.

"Nurse. Finish up here. Untie him. "

"Thank you, Sir."

"Good day, then."

When Scott had departed, Fairleigh regarded her with appraising eyes. "What is your name?"


"Nice name. Spencer."

"Thank you." She pulled her cart closer to his bed. No matter who he was, he was to be made whole as efficiently as she could.

"I am sorry, Spencer, for being an ass."

She saw on his face honest contrition. Unaccustomed to apologies from those who insulted her, she had no reason to trust the value of his. Yet she gave him credit for the courtesy of it. He had done such a brave act. What kind of man would do as he had done? A fool. An opportunist. A man who saw this was work which he and he alone was best suited for? Was that hubris? Cunning? Or duty? If indeed, he had done it. If he hadn't lied.

"Spencer, I am grateful for your help. Please do patch me up. I'd hate to lose my hands because I lacked good manners."

He was making conversation to heal their rift. She picked through her gauze looking for the needle she had misplaced when she had left him. Brusqueness served her where experience did not. "Lie back then and be good."

"Chilly. Do you they teach you to be frosty like that in America?"


He feigned a shiver.

She fought a smile. "Put that spoon between your teeth. This needle will hurt."

"I wager it will hurt less than your German. You should have warned me that it was so bad."

"Careful." Fingering her needle, she began to thread the eye. "You need me to be gentle as I sew. Besides,"-she could taunt him now that he was rational and at her mercy-"I doubt I'll ever sing with you again."

"I will endeavor to ensure you do."

His attempt to charm her flattered her. She would do well to ignore it. "This is war, sir. Neither of us has the time."

"Then sing to me instead."

"When I put my needle in your skin, I will hear you sing and off key, too." She threatened him, hiding all the humor his compliment inspired. "The spoon, sir. Now!"


Thursday, November 7, 2013

HOST 911 by Kassandra Cox and Edward Tailor

HOST 911 by Kassandra Cox and Edward Tailor

Sexy paramedic, Sam Norton, arrives at the scene of an accident to find that he is required to take on the soul of the lovely, feisty Saffron Maze in order to save her life.

Two minds in one body makes for some interesting antics; especially considering Saffron’s desire to make the most of the experience while broadening Sam’s sexual horizons.

Although both are anxious for their body sharing to end, once it does, will they find that residual feelings remain?



She heard a few others asking him if he was ok and if the transfer had gone smoothly. Hmph, no one seemed to care about asking her anything. He replied and she felt like a fifth wheel with nothing to do. Her curiosity took over and she focused her attention on Sam’s body. She could see his reflection in the glass storefront that he’d turned to face to keep her from viewing any more of the accident than she needed to. Not bad. He was tall and broad. His square jaw gave him a look of strength and dependability. It looked as though his eyes were a brilliant blue and his hair dark, more black than brown. It was cut short and spiked a bit on top in a ruffled look. If she concentrated, she could feel his body from the inside. She could feel the fit of his uniform, his muscles rippling as he moved.

“Stop that!” Sam called out in his mind, clearly not enjoying her inventory of his assets. She hadn’t even gotten to the good parts yet. Saffron went silent as Sam and his partner, Dan he’d called him, rode in their ambulance over to the hospital to push her consciousness into a transfer pod until they could give her back her body. No worries there. She was happy to get out of this stranger and have a little rest and relaxation.

She listened as the arrangements were made. He was on the table next to the pod, staring directly at it as she could plainly see. She kept waiting for something to change but nothing was happening. Oh hell, no! Half listening to some half assed explanation about the pod being old and possibly no longer functional, it hit her like a brick. Until her body was all ready, she was not going anywhere...for two whole endless days.

“FUCK!” reverberated from both of them in the same mind at the same split second as realization set in, almost causing an echo. This was going to be a very interesting two days."


Wednesday, November 6, 2013


HOUSE OF DOMS by Ava Snow 

Boxed Set Includes: Past Unbound, Love Unbound and Chains Unbound


Darius and Alia had loved each other a long time. A woman’s jealousy and greed and a father’s need to control tore them apart.

Six years after, his life is turned upside down, Darius McKade returns to his home town. There to run his business and claim the only woman he’s ever loved. He’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s learned and grown into his dominance, and he’ll use what he knows to get what he wants.

Alia Ward has finally put the past behind her—or so she thought. The instant Darius walked into her small bakery she knew she hadn’t. After a moment of weakness, she gives him her body, but will she be able to give him her heart?


Slade Jamison has finally found the woman that he feels can be his perfect submissive. But will her past hinder her from submitting fully?

Tiyionna Barnes suffered at the hands of one claiming to be a Dominant. He stripped her of her self-worth and left a shell of who she once was.

Can Slade’s brand of dominance show her that the woman she once was is still there, or will Tiyionna push him away, not willing to take a chance?


Aubrey Lawson has survived a horrific crime, but he’s nobody’s victim. After a dream date that turns into hours of torture, Bre is finally freed—only he wakes up to confront another nightmare: his savior is none other than Devlin Barnes. Dev, with his baritone voice and mesmerizing eyes, is the Dom of Aubrey’s dreams and the last person he wants on his rehab watch.

Bre’s pride—and libido—are pushed to their limits when Devlin insists that he be moved to the Barnes’ house for the rest of his recovery. Dev makes no secret about his own lust for Aubrey, and soon has the gorgeous submissive in his bed, in every meaning of the word. But Devlin’s passion only solidifies Aubrey’s firmest hard limit: he won’t be a charity case to anyone, especially Devlin.

The couple’s fresh commitment is tested when Aubrey steps into danger once more to keep Devlin safe. Can Dev get to him in time? More importantly, can he break through Bre’s chains of pride and self-doubt, and show him the beautiful bondage of lasting love?



Releasing his grip on the other man’s neck, he brought his hands up and around to cup his face, bringing the sub’s eyes in contact with his own. He saw raw need and fear warring for space within those emerald depths. “Tell me where you are, Bre. Are you here, with me? Do you want to stop?” Dev knew his voice was deep and demanding, carrying all the lust he felt at the moment.

Bre’s hands tightened in the waist of his pants and when he spoke, it was a whisper that Devlin almost missed. “I’m here with you. I want to feel you all around me…in me. I need you…please.”

The slight tremble is Bre’s voice let Dev know he was still a bit scared, but the determination and lust reflected in his eyes said he was ready for small parts of Devlin’s dominance, if not everything. “Listen to me and listen well. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, I want to hear your safe word. You know I will please and give you what you want, but only when I’m ready. Are you sure you are prepared for me, Bre?” With each word he spoke, he knew his voice went deeper. The Dom in him was at the forefront, primed to take care of what was his. Aubrey’s submission would be his, as would the man himself.

Bre looked him in the eyes and spoke with a firmness that Dev hadn’t heard in weeks. “Yes, Sir.” A low rumble started in his chest as he stepped back, putting a small distance between them. Aubrey’s hands fell to his sides just as his eyes fell to floor.

“Strip and move to the center of the bed, on your hands and knees.”


Tuesday, November 5, 2013

TO TAME A COWBOY by Jules Bennett

TO TAME A COWBOY by Jules Bennett

A Texas Cattleman's Club tale of best friends falling in love ...

Royal, Texas, is the perfect place for rodeo star Ryan Grant to slow down and finally show Piper Kindred she's the woman for him. When an accident sends Piper rushing to take care of him, her sexy bedside manner suggests to Ryan that seducing his best friend will be easier than he'd expected.

But Piper knows the lure of the rodeo circuit—and the risk of a broken heart, when Ryan realizes he's not ready to hang up his saddle for good. She can't let herself fall for a cowboy. If only her heart would listen!



To Tame a Cowboy
by Jules Bennett

Piper Kindred did a double take at the black sports car. Her heart sank, bile rising in her throat. No, it couldn't be.

Oh, sweet mercy. There was no way this massive accident would have no casualties. Wreckage lay crushed with mangled pieces across the median, shattered glass scattered along the stretch of highway, a black BMW on its top and a large tractor-trailer on its side, blocking both lanes of traffic.

As a paramedic, Piper had seen plenty of wrecks, fatalities and gut-wrenching scenes, but nothing settled fear as deep within her as seeing the familiar car that was so often in her driveway…the car that belonged to her best friend, Ryan Grant.

The ambulance barely came to a stop before Piper grabbed her heavy red medical bag, hopped out and hit the ground running. The warm November sun beat down on her back as she ran toward the chilling scene.

The medic in her couldn't get to the victims fast enough. The woman in her feared what she'd uncover once she reached Ryan.

Once closer, she squatted in an attempt to see the inside of the vehicle. A wave of relief swept through her the second she realized the car was empty. Okay, so he wasn't trapped, but what was the extent of his injuries?

Sirens blared in near surround sound between the police, ambulances and a fire truck trying to assist the wounded and clean up the mess.

Piper tried to keep her eye out for Ryan, hoping she'd see him sitting in the back of an ambulance with just an ice pack on his head. But her duty was to assist where needed…not to seek out those most important in her life.

As she moved closer to the tractor-trailer, where the majority of the cops seemed to be congregated, she noticed numerous Hispanic people huddled together. With disheveled clothes, scraggly beards and various cuts and bruises, Piper couldn't help but wonder what they were all doing at the scene of an accident involving only one semi and the car of her best friend.

Piper ran to the group of obviously injured men and women. Some were crying, some had their heads dropped between their shoulders and some were shouting Spanish slang even she didn't understand because of the rapid rate, but she could tell they were angry and scared.

As Piper passed two uniformed police officers she heard the words illegal and FBI. Yeah, this was so much more than an ill-fated accident. By the number of uniformed officers scouring the area, it looked as though these people were not here legally.

Moments later she heard other officers discussing how so many stowaways were hidden in such a small compartment in the back of that semi. This situation was beyond what Piper was used to. Her job right now was to assess and treat the victims, not to worry about the legalities of this mess.

"Where do you need me?" she asked another paramedic who was examining a man's leg beneath his torn pants.

"The truck driver was pretty shaken," the paramedic told her. "He's sitting in the back of a squad car for questioning right now. No visible injuries, but his pupils were dilated and he did say his back was hurting. Seems he was driving this illegal group and he had no clue."

Piper nodded, gripped her bag tighter and headed toward the squad car closest to the overturned semi. Sure enough a trooper had his forearm resting on the roof of the car as he leaned in and listened to whatever the man seated in the back was saying.

"I swear I had no clue what was in the back of my truck. Please, you've got to believe me," the driver pleaded. "I was just trying to get into the other lane and that car came out of nowhere. I didn't see him at all."

According to the man's story, he was completely innocent. This was a mess of epic proportions and not something a few questions would solve. But all Piper needed to do was to assess the man to see if he needed to go to the hospital or if he could continue being questioned.

"Officer, may I please check him out?" Piper asked. "I understand he has back pain."

The officer stood to his full height and nodded, but didn't move too far away. Often medics and cops worked together. Being a first responder required teamwork and so far she'd never had an issue with any cop getting in the way of her treating a patient at the scene.

Piper leaned in and saw a middle-aged man with a protruding belly hanging over his faded jeans, a dirty, bushy blond mustache with matching beard and nicotine-stained fingers.

"Sir, my name is Piper and I'm an EMT. I was told your back is hurting. Can you stand?"

He nodded and slid out of the car as Piper backed up. When he came to his full height, he winced, grabbing his lower back—whether for show to get the officer's sympathy or because the pain was indeed real, she didn't know. Yet again, not her place to judge.

"If you'll come this way, we can set you in the back of an ambulance. You may want to go to the hospital just to make sure nothing else is wrong, but I can get your vitals over here."

"I appreciate that, ma'am."

As she led the man toward the nearest empty ambulance, her eyes scanned the crowd for Ryan. Had he already been taken to the E.R.? Were his injuries life-threatening? The unknowns were killing her.

She knew a life flight chopper hadn't been dispatched to the scene, so that was a mild comfort. Not only for the fact Ryan didn't need a medevac, but that none of the others involved in the accident did, either.

Another ambulance arrived on the scene as Piper assisted the truck driver into the back of a vacant one. When fresh paramedics hopped from their emergency vehicle and made their way toward the group of injured people, she jogged back over to assist.

But froze in her tracks as one head lifted and a familiar set of dark eyes met hers. He was amid a group of Mexicans, but this man… She knew this man.

Dear God. How could this… What the hell…?

"Alex?" she whispered to herself.

Piper took off at a dead run and stopped beside Alex Santiago. Her bag dropped at her feet as she held her breath.

Was she honest to God seeing the man who'd disappeared months ago without a trace? Could it truly be him?

The man glanced up at her, holding his hand over his eyes to block the glaring afternoon sun.

My God. It was him. The hair was a shaggy, unkempt mess and the scruff on his cheeks and chin indicated he hadn't shaved in a few days or even weeks. But this was Alex. The man who'd been missing from Royal, Texas, for months.

The man most people assumed had become a victim of foul play, maybe even at his best friend's hand. But here he was, living and breathing.

"Alex, what on earth are you doing here? Where have you been?" she asked, eyeing the knot on the side of his head.

He winced as she slid her fingertip over the swollen bump. "You must have me confused with someone else. My name isn't Alex."

Piper's hand stilled above his head as she leaned down to look him in the eyes. She was pretty sure she knew what her friend looked like. Just because she hadn't seen him in months didn't mean she was clueless.

She looked closer. Um…yeah, this was Alex. If he didn't think he was Alex, then he'd hit his head too hard in that crash. But at least he was alive.

"Your name is Alex Santiago," she told him, making sure to keep her eyes locked on to his, waiting for a spark of recognition from his end.

His brows drew together and he slowly shook his head. "I've never heard that name."

"Then what do people call you?" she asked, worry growing deeper with each passing moment.

Alex's eyes searched hers; he opened his mouth, closed it and sighed. "I don't…remember. That doesn't make sense. How could I not know my own name?"

"You have a good bump here on your head," she reminded him as her eyes traveled down to the wrist he cradled in his other hand. "Looks like you may have broken your wrist."

He glanced down and simply nodded. Piper worried shock may be setting in. Between the accident and the apparent memory loss, she had no doubt Alex was shaken.

"Let's get you to an ambulance and see what the doctors have to say once you get to the hospital," she said gently. "I'm sure you'll remember you're Alex Santiago in no time. I'm Piper Kindred and we've been friends for a while. Can you at least tell me how you got into that truck?"

Piper lifted her duffel bag, helped Alex to his feet and held an arm around his waist when he started to sway. "Easy," she told him. "No rush. We're only going to that ambulance a few feet away. Think you can make it or should I bring a gurney?"

"No, I'm okay."

She didn't quite believe him so she kept him leaning against her side as she led him to the waiting ambulance.

"Go ahead and lie down on that cot," she said as she assisted Alex into the back of the vehicle.

"Do you know where you are?"

His blank look added to the sickening feeling in her stomach.

"We ready to roll?"

Piper glanced at the other EMT on the scene. They might as well go without her because there was no way in hell she was leaving without at least seeing that Ryan was okay…and to tell him of miraculously discovering Alex.

"Go ahead and take him. He's got some memory loss so he doesn't know his name. Make sure the doctors are aware this is Alex Santiago and he's been missing for months. I'll go inform an officer because Alex was the subject of an ongoing investigation."

Turning her attention back to Alex, Piper offered a warm smile. "You're in good hands now, Alex. I know you're confused, but I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can to check on you."

Continuing to hold on to his wrist, Alex leaned back on the gurney. Piper closed the doors and tapped the back to inform the driver he was good to go.

With several paramedics now on the scene, Piper felt comfortable going in search of Ryan.

After searching frantically, running through the chaos, she found him next to the road on the other side of the overturned semi. Her knees weakened with relief at the sight of Ryan whole and upright. He was a good bit from his car, so she had to assume the officer had taken him aside to get his statement.

But glancing at Ryan and actually talking to him were two different things. He looked fine, but looks, as she'd discovered numerous times over the years, could be deceiving. Internal injuries were nothing to mess around with and could prove fatal even when a patient looked perfectly fine.

Added to needing to know the extent of his injuries, she had to tell him about the mind-blowing discovery she'd just made.

Alex Santiago was alive. Their friend who had been missing for months was alive and on his way to Royal Memorial Hospital with an obvious broken wrist and some memory loss. But he was alive.

But, my God, what in the world had he been doing in the back of a semi-truck filled with illegal Mexicans? So many questions whirled around in her mind. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she knew Alex was probably scared and confused.

As Piper moved closer, she noticed Ryan holding on to one of his sides. A trooper was jotting down notes and nodding as he took Ryan's statement. Piper closed the gap, but stayed a few feet away, waiting for him to finish.

The sight of him with a slight bruise over his right brow and his hair even messier than usual made Piper want to throw her arms around his broad, muscular body and squeeze him to death for scaring her. But he'd probably laugh at her if she got all misty-eyed or mushy right now.

She'd seen this cowboy compete on the rodeo circuit countless times. She'd seen him get knocked around, bucked and nearly trampled, but nothing had terrified her more than the sight of his totaled car.

The trooper stepped away and Piper inched closer on still shaky legs.

Ryan caught her eye and offered that crooked smile. "Hey, Red."

That smile could melt the panties off any woman, and it had according to rumor. But Ryan was her friend so her panties had stayed in place over the years. Though she wasn't blind—her bestie was the sexiest cowboy she'd ever laid eyes on.

With that dark, messy hair usually hidden by a black Stetson and heavy-lidded baby blues, yeah, Ryan Grant was one very fine-looking cowboy and he did some mighty nice things to a pair of well-worn jeans.

"You need to be seen," she informed him, raking her eyes over him to look for other visible injuries. "And I won't take no for an answer."

"I'm just sore and banged up a little, that's all." He reached out, grabbed one of her shaky hands and squeezed. "You look tense. I'm fine, Piper."

"You will be checked out because you'll want to come to the hospital anyway when I tell you who I saw."

Ryan shrugged, hissing and grabbing his side again.


Piper's eyes darted down to his ribs. "If they're not broken, they're bruised, so you'll be going straight to X-ray when you get there, big boy."

"Who did you see?" he insisted.

All joking aside, she leaned in and said, "Alex."

"Alex?" he repeated. "Alex Santiago?"

Piper nodded. "He was in the back of that semi."

"Piper…" He eyed her as though she was the one who'd hit her head. "Alex was in the truck?"

She merely nodded, crossing her arms and silently daring him to argue.

"How in the hell did he get there?" Ryan asked.

Piper nodded toward another ambulance and guided Ryan toward the open back. "He doesn't remember."

Ryan, still holding his side, put his foot on the back step. "He doesn't remember how he got into the semi?"

"He doesn't remember anything," she whispered. "He didn't even know his damn name was Alex when I was talking to him. He didn't recognize me and he was totally clueless."

"Damn it." Ryan glanced around at the group of Mexicans being tended to by EMTs and talked to by the cops. "He has amnesia?"

Piper shrugged. "I honestly don't know. He had a good-size knot on his head, but that could've happened from the accident. He's on his way in the squad I came with, so we'll catch a ride with another. Right now I think we both need to get to the hospital for multiple reasons."

"I don't need to get checked out, but I'll appease you only because I want to see Alex for myself."

Piper studied him, as if she could see beyond the surface and actually make an official diagnosis.

"You all right?" he asked. "You look a little pale."

Piper caught his worried gaze and smiled. "I'm fine. And if the doctors give you the go-ahead and release you, I'm going to kick your rear end for worrying me to death when I saw your overturned car."

Ryan's wide, signature smile spread across his face. "There's that Piper love. Come on. Let's get to the hospital."

"Oh, God, Ryan." She held a hand on his arm before he could step into the back of the ambulance. "What about Cara? Someone needs to call her."

Piper couldn't even imagine what Alex's fiancée, Cara Windsor, would think when she was told he was alive. Piper was stunned and thrilled, but she was worried about how extensive this memory loss was.

"Let's get the facts from the doctor first," Ryan suggested. "We can't have her running all in there in hysterics and shock. We need to prepare her for this and have concrete information."

Piper nodded. "I agree. Let's get to the hospital. And while you're getting checked out, I'll find out Alex's status."


She held up a hand. "The fact my heart rate is still out of control after not knowing if you were okay or not gives me the right to override anything you say. Now get your butt in and let's get to the hospital."



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