Thursday, February 27, 2014

GOING FOR FOUR by Erin Nicholas

Counting on Love, Book 4

It's either true love…or the biggest mistake they've ever made.

Hot firefighter Cody Madsen has stayed away from Olivia Dixon for almost two years-technically. Even though he talks to her every day and sees her every weekend. But there's no kissing, touching, or telling her how he really feels. Because they're just friends. Anything more than that would mean crossing the line that Olivia's older brother has firmly drawn between them.

Olivia wants what her three sisters have-true love. She could almost believe she's found it with Cody, if it weren't for the fact that he's her older brother's best friend and her brother won't have it. And he's never steered her wrong before. Her head is telling her to trust her brother, but her heart won't let go of Cody.

Her solution? A dating site where she and Cody can each find their "Perfect Pick" once and for all.

But when the site yields some unexpected results, their real feelings come front and center. And they have to decide if it's worth the risk to cross the line from friendship to love after all.

Warning: Contains a starry-eyed romantic, a wannabe knight in shining armor, and chocolate chip cookies. A lot of chocolate chip cookies.



Copyright © 2014 Erin Nicholas
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Cody Madsen had never seen Olivia Dixon naked. Until today.

And there was a very good reason for that.

Two, in fact.

She was his best friend. And her brother would kill him.

But damn, the sight was breathtaking.

Breathtaking enough that his entire system short-circuited and all he could think was Every day for the rest of my life.

“Cody! Oh my god! What are you doing here?”

She’d obviously just stepped from the bathroom. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, the scent of her favorite shower gel and lotion were strong in the air and, most significantly, she was as naked as the day she was born.

Which had to be why his brain and mouth would not connect.

Olivia crossed an arm over her breasts—her glorious, perky, perfect breasts—and put a hand over her even-more-private part—the mouthwatering, holy crap, light blond hair that was trimmed into a perfect V pointing the way home—and said louder, “What are you doing?”

But it wasn’t until another voice hit his ears that Cody was able to pull himself out of the Olivia-is-even-hotter-than-I-thought daze.

“Cody! I’m heading to the fuse box!”

Olivia’s eyebrows arched. “Is that Conner?”

It was. And Cody’s first spoken word on the matter was, “Crap.”

He grabbed her upper arms, backed her into the bathroom and kicked the door shut.

That proved to be the biggest mistake of all. Her skin was silky and warm and he should never have touched her.

“What’s Conner doing here?”

Cody was an idiot. When he’d first seen that she was naked, he should have turned around and gotten the hell out of here. Instead, what had he done? He’d touched her. Then he’d put himself in a closed room with her.

A tiny closed room.

“There’s a good reason we instituted the conservative-clothing-at-all-times rule,” he said gruffly.

She still had her arm and hand covering the most important parts, but that didn’t matter one iota. He was never going to be able to forget what he’d seen.

“That rule is for when we’re together,” she said.

“We’re together now.” Wow, were they. Her scent was imprinted on his brain. Now, standing submerged in a cloud of it between her and the bottles on the shelf behind her, he found himself taking deeper and deeper breaths—and growing harder and harder.

The naked-breasts-and-other-parts thing wasn’t helping.

“I didn’t know we were going to be together now,” she returned. “What are you—and Conner—doing here?”

“Fixing the outlet in the kitchen that’s not working.” He breathed deeply and concentrated on keeping his eyes on hers. “I texted you.”

“My battery died.”

“Why are you naked?”

“I took a shower.”

“You’re not in the shower now. Do I need to buy you a robe?”

“I don’t need a robe when I’m in my house, presumably alone.”

“You always walk around the house naked when you’re alone?”


He had nothing after that. He pressed his lips together and resolutely continued to focus on things above her shoulders. Like the two empty towel racks. “Where are your other towels?”

“In the dryer.”

He pulled the towel from her head, handing it to her. “God. Cover up.”

She wrapped the towel around her body, her wet hair falling past her shoulders, big blue eyes staring at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look…weird.”

“This is, apparently, how I look when I’m trying with every fiber of my being not to kiss you.”

She made a soft choking noise and her hand grasped the towel tighter against her breasts.

“I’ve never seen that look before.”

“Yeah, I saw a few things for the first time today too.”

And she grinned.

That was one of the things he loved most about his “friend” Olivia. She had a fantastic sense of humor.

“What I mean is,” she said, “I thought there have been times in the past when you’ve had to try not to kiss me. And I’ve never seen that face before.”

There sure as hell had been times he’d had to resist grabbing her and pushing her up against the nearest wall. Or the nearest desk. Or the nearest copy machine, car door, refrigerator…

He cleared his throat. “Those times I was trying to resist kissing your lips.”

“But wh—”

She broke off as understanding dawned. And her cheeks got pink.

“God,” she finally breathed. “The not-talking-about-sex rule we have is a good one too.”

So were the other three rules they’d established nineteen months, two weeks and three days ago.

First and foremost was no kissing.

Second was conservative clothing only when they were together. He didn’t go shirtless, even when he was cleaning out her rain gutters in ninety-eight-degree weather. She didn’t wear fitted tank tops or short skirts. He didn’t wear fitted tank tops either—she’d added that to the list after the last time they’d gone to a baseball game together. If swimsuits were required, he wore baggy trunks that reached almost to his knees, and she had a two-piece with bottoms that looked like shorts and a top that covered her stomach and chest completely.

Third was no talking about sex—with anyone specifically or the overall topic in general. No innuendos either.

Fourth was no getting drunk together—they’d made that mistake once and would have made all kinds of horrible choices if Olivia’s sisters hadn’t come home early.

Fifth was no avoiding each other. That wasn’t acceptable. They were friends. They enjoyed being together. They had an entire group of friends in common.

It didn’t matter that they were more attracted to each other than they ever had been to anyone else. They weren’t going to let it keep them from being friends, and they weren’t going to let it make things awkward between them.

In fact, their friendship was one of the barriers they’d put up in hopes of fighting their attraction. They’d become even better friends, entirely on purpose, after the one and only time they’d kissed.

Nineteen months, two weeks and three days ago.

The thing was, the friends-only deal worked. It had started off as “let’s go to a movie” or “want to grab a burger” here and there, but once they’d started talking and laughing together, it had grown. When they’d discovered a mutual love for baking and had started baking together—even when he sometimes wished baking together was a euphemism for other things—their friendship had evolved into something real. There was something very innocent and fun and, of course, sweet about baking together. And in the process of mixing up cookies, muffins, brownies and new inventions here and there, they’d talked and shared and bonded.

Now they both protected the friendship staunchly. He’d never survive if he lost having Olivia in his life, and if that meant never kissing her again, so be it.

Or so he typically thought.

When she wasn’t naked in front of him.

“You’re still making that face,” Olivia said, her voice soft and a little breathless.

He was sure that he was. “You’re still standing here in a towel.”

“I can’t fix that until you move out of the way of the door,” she said with a smile.

He nodded. “It would make sense for me to move then.”

She swallowed. “If you want me to get dressed, anyway.”


He didn’t move out of the way.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

WELCOME TO DANJAL'S by Marion Webb-De Sisto

WELCOME TO DANJAL'S by Marion Webb-De Sisto

Meresin is the fallen angel that Ceila abhors. He’s rude, demanding and serves the Dark One. He loathes humans and considers them to be inferior to angels. This means that even though she’s only part human, he finds her objectionable at first.

Despite their intense dislike of each other, they are forced to be together by the action of demons, and their feelings begin to change. Will he ignore her humanness? Can she overlook his ruined nature and dark ways?

When an attraction develops between them, should they forget their previous hatred and help one another? Meresin becomes her rescuer and Ceila is grateful for his aid. So is it possible for love to sweep away their former antagonism?



She was curious to see who had caught Lenli’s attention and, as she reached his table, she saw her friend’s latest crush. He was dressed in black. His long, leather coat was unbuttoned and revealed an open-neck shirt and jeans; he also wore expensive boots. A sense of great strength emanated from him and his broad shoulders. His attention was on someone or something to his right so he didn’t look at Ceila, but she could see the scar that marred an otherwise handsome face. The deep gouge wasn’t fresh and appeared to have been caused by something other than a blade. He might have been clawed by some creature. The blackness of his shoulder-length hair rivaled the tone of his clothing, but there were thin streaks of white in it. They could be caused by age, yet what she could see of his face was smooth and unwrinkled, unlike the way humans showed the passage of time.

Using her angelic sight, she examined his aura. It was a mass of dark inky swirls, bounded by a shimmering blaze of indigo light. Lenli was right; he wasn’t human. Only angels who fought with Archangel Michael emitted that hue, but it was almost hidden by the darkness. He must be a former warrior angel who had fallen. They were seldom seen in this world of Cymllon. They preferred to hang out on Terra.

In order to confirm her angelic insight, she said in angel-speak, “Welcome to Danjal’s. I’m Ceila, your waitress. What can I get for you?”

He turned his head and she was subjected to a compelling scrutiny. His ice blue gaze traveled all the way down to her feet, and then back up again. Those eyes were the exact color of her celestite crystal, and she knew only angels that belonged to the Order of Powers possessed such mesmerising orbs.

In the human tongue he answered, “You are part human, an insignificant species. Do not use my language.” His voice was deep and harsh.

So he’s rude, as well as fallen. She wanted to tell this offensive oaf exactly what she thought of him, but he would complain to Danjal and that might mean the end of her job. Ceila had a reasonable rapport with the manager because she’d worked at the club for a considerable amount of time. Yet Danjal was known to fire any waitress when angered by her.

Ceila refused to comply with the fallen angel’s order. She expressed, “That comment insults my human mother. I’m able to speak in either language, and addressed you in yours as a way of trying to be helpful.” Let’s see how you like that answer.

“I can hear your thoughts.” This telepathic reply was made in the human tongue.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

ICE by Julia Talbot

ICE by Julia Talbot

Elemental Ops

Ice won't let his team at Elemental Ops go with him on what's supposed to be a suicide mission to uncover a new biological weapon. Imagine his surprise when the biggest danger he finds himself in is being bonded to a baby dragon, and falling in love with said dragon's Guardian, Keon. Keon isn't worried about things like guns and governments. He has a whole host of problems in all shapes and colors. When Ice accidentally bonds with one of his baby dragons, Keon is more worried about getting the man to come in from the cold and find a place in their bizarre little family. Can these two find common ground, and keep the dragons safe?


Ice (Elemental Ops)
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Julia Talbot

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Ice stared down the barrel of his rifle, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He had a bad feeling about this mission. Like a really bad one. So bad that he'd left the team behind to a man. Jacques and Gig had protested, but he'd snarled at them just like he'd been snarling since Spider had officially left the group, sniffing after a couple of shifters who seemed to draw him like a moth to the flame.

Although, Spider had been their fire elemental, and it was tough for him to be ice without fire.

The target on this mission was a son of a bitch who was hoarding weaponry of the unusual kind and was classified as Armed and Talented. It had taken Ice a month just to find his hideout. It was a fortress, really, a huge thing built into the side of a mountain. The terrain made recon difficult, all shale and other craggy rock deposits, and the whole place smelled like brimstone, the occasional glow of a fiery light tempting Ice to come in out of the cold. His feet were like blocks of frozen snow, even with toe warmers in his boots.

Ice wasn't sure if the guy had demons in there or maybe just a hole into Hell.

That would be interesting...

Whatever it was, the directive had been serious enough about the danger that he'd gone Oscar Mike in the middle of the night, leaving his team behind while they slept. They could go on without him, but he needed them to be safe.

A truck rumbled up toward the place, shocks rattling and shaking over the rough road. Whoever was driving had to be losing his fucking mind. Ice would have left the damned truck and hoofed it in. Lord.

A guy got out when the truck parked -- someone who looked oddly familiar, although he couldn't place the face -- carrying a... pet crate? What the fuck?

This was so not a dog rescue or anything. This was a weapons stockpile. Right?

He stared, relaxing his eyes so the scope didn't flatten out his vision.

A lean, mostly naked man with the wildest mass of jet-black hair he'd ever seen came out of the building, peered into the crate. The two men began talking -- maybe negotiating? Hell, this was the most action he'd experienced since he'd been on point. He focused on the truck driver for now, trying to place the man.

The truck driver pulled a piece, drew a bead on the guy, who snorted and stared at the man like he was an idiot, not an ounce of fear on the hawk-like face.

Okay, that was interesting. Ice focused on the other guy for a moment. That fearless bastard stirred something like admiration in him. That mostly naked body stirred something a little farther south.

The pistol was grabbed, tossed away, then the pet carrier was snatched up and the man headed inside. The driver took a step forward and stopped suddenly, eyes going wide before he scrambled for the truck. The truck bounced twice as hard going out, the driver damned near wiping out at the turn that took him out of range of the rifle's sight. The niggling idea that he knew who the driver was made him wish he had Gig, his tech guy, to run facial rec.

The huge door began to swing shut, slowly, proving how heavy it was. He couldn't get a look at what lay inside, either, which meant more damned recon. He'd have to get up close and personal, which started with freezing up those cameras he could see.

Something was in there, something big, and he was going to have to figure out how to get in. This was not just a search and destroy, it was information gathering on the weapons that had everyone running so fucking scared, including the guy who had just made a drop of some kind of animal.

Whatever the fuck they were. They were obviously biologicals. That was always a goddamn disaster. Living things were uncontrollable as fuck. Look at dudes who made movies with dogs, and that was no comparison to what biologicals could do in wartime. He'd seen this werewolf once who ripped the throat out of two soldiers before turning on his supposed handler, the guy's silver-tipped Taser doing no damned good in the bloodlust.

Mr. Lean and Hairy appeared again, looking up at the sky, muttering to himself, giving Ice a look at a tiny, fine ass. Sweet. At least the scenery would be good.

Something shot across the sky, something akin to a comet. Weird. He would have to check his comms to see if anything was expected in the way of meteor showers. He hadn't seen anything on the recon reports, but intel wasn't always one hundred percent.

The man waved to the sky, grinning up like an idiot, then turned back and hurried inside.

Friday, February 21, 2014

ON THE CASE by Zenobia Renquist

ON THE CASE by Zenobia Renquist

Guardian's Tales Two

Everything changes when the tree hugs back.

Darah took what she thought would be an easy assignment -- wake up a tree. Nothing to it, except this tree rouses with a case of morning wood.

Shirish has been asleep for the last few decades and is eager to get reacquainted with the world, starting with Darah. She wants to believe they have a future together but the past has unfinished business with Shirish.

Family secrets long buried threaten to set fire to their budding relationship. Without help, Darah fears their final act of love will be to burn together.


On the Case (Guardian's Tales 2)
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Zenobia Renquist

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Brian escorted Darah through a gate in the perimeter fence and up to the base of the tree. He pointed to a gap in the roots that created a hidey-hole big enough for Darah's petite form. "Stay close to this spot. If you hear someone coming, duck into it. My buddy Adam is the one who will get you out. He's a bat like me. Good ears. Just whistle when you want to leave and he'll come get you. You do know how to whistle, right?"


"Nothing fancy. Just a plain whistle."

"Got it."

"Good luck and don't get caught."

"Thanks and I won't." Darah waved at his retreating back and then faced the tree. "It's just you and me now, handsome. What should we talk about?"

The tree didn't answer. Darah hadn't expected it to. Guardian had warned her this would be a tough case. The tree hadn't spoken in decades. Guardian had said it had been hibernating all that time but she wanted to wake him to make sure of his health. That made Darah his alarm clock.

How was she supposed to wake up a tree? Splash him with water? Pull his branches? Knock on his trunk? If she could get to his trunk. The vines were thicker than she'd thought and surrounded the tree like a dense rope curtain.

Staring at them made Darah shiver. They were almost like something out of a horror movie. She felt like they would grab her any second. That was silly. Trees with inhabiting spirits weren't hostile unless provoked. There were no exceptions. So long as she didn't act threatening, the tree wouldn't harm her.

"How do I wake you up? Do I just keep talking until you tell me to be quiet, because I can do that." She had pulled in a breath to make good on her threat when heavy footsteps on the rock walkway stopped her.

She rushed over to the hidey-hole and crawled into it, hoping there were no bugs calling it home. It was a tight fit even for Darah's small frame but she managed to squeeze in. Several of the branches pulled at her pixie-cut hair and scraped her skin. It felt as if a few drew blood. Or maybe that was sap from the tree dripping down her arm. Whichever the case, she ignored it to listen to the guard as he walked past.

The beam of his flashlight played over the spot above Darah's head. She hunkered down more and hoped her clothes weren't sticking out. Her medium brown skin and dark blue jeans might blend with the shadows but her white shirt was a dead giveaway. If she had known she would be playing hide-and-seek for this assignment, she would have dressed for the occasion.

The guard took his time strolling around the perimeter fence. Was he taking in the sights or something? A fine sheen of sweat coated Darah's body. She wanted to tell him to hurry the hell up, except that would defeat the purpose of hiding. Her need for the man to leave became more urgent when something brushed against her leg.

She thought it might be a root resituating itself because she moved her foot but whatever it was rubbed against her calf in a deliberate manner. It slid down to her ankles and curled around her bare skin above her sock.

Darah bit back a scream. A snake. There was a snake in here with her. A snake that had decided her pant leg was a nice nook to call home. She shook her leg to jar it free but the snake continued its upward path.

Fuck this! Guardian didn't pay her enough to mess with snakes. Darah scrambled out of the hole, not caring if the guard was still there or not. He wasn't, which was good because Darah all but jumped out of her pants to get rid of the snake.

She pushed her jeans to her ankles while slapping at her left leg. The snake was gone so far as she could tell. She couldn't see it and wasn't sure she wanted to. After indulging a full-body shiver of revulsion, she started to pull up her jeans. The last thing she needed was to get caught with her pants down. Nothing she could say would ever explain it well enough to keep her from being arrested for public indecency.

Something thick and long circled her waist. Darah had time for a frightened squeak before it yanked her back into the curtain of vines, which closed around her. She struggled to get free but the vines coiled around her arms and legs.

The tree was awake. Good. Great. Mission accomplished. She didn't know how she'd done it, but job over. Too bad the tree didn't think the same. The vines continued wrapping themselves around her body. Some of them slipped under her shirt. The vines pushed her bra out of the way and started circling her bare breasts.

The tips nudged her nipples, teasing them into taut peaks that tingled with a growing desire that made no sense to her. She should be freaked out, not turned on. The vines rubbing against her panty-clad slit added to her contradictory reaction. As much as she wanted to deny it, the teasing was getting her excited.

Just her luck she got the tree that wakes up horny. That wasn't why she was here though. Excited or not, she couldn't let this happen. "Hold on a second. This isn't that kind of party, mister. Let me go."

If the tree heard her, it didn't act like it and continued fondling her body. Darah hated to admit it but the tree was good with his vines. The ones between her legs had located her clit and stroked it through her panties.

Darah wet her lips, trying to ignore her reaction to the stimulation. She was not so hard up in the sex department that a little clit tickling should make her forget she was in the middle of a garden and there were security guards patrolling. It shouldn't, but the vines made a good case. The moisture gliding down her channel to coat her lower lips was testament to her willingness to hear them out.

"Ca-can we talk about this? Guar-Gua-G... Mmmmm." One of the vines edged her panties out of the way and touched her clit directly. The bolt of pleasure from that gentle touch rendered her momentarily speechless as she enjoyed the sensation.

It seriously shouldn't feel this good. She was being groped by a tree. Nothing in dealing with the preternatural community should make her okay with this. Frisky shifters she expected. Keeping them at arm's length was no easy feat but she'd learned to do it. A tree with morning wood was a little out of her skill set.

The vines pulled her panties down her legs to join her jeans around her ankles. Darah couldn't think of a single protest for that action when one of the vines started caressing its length between her pussy lips so it brushed her channel entrance and clit.

Darah sucked in a breath and then let it out as a soft moan of pleasure. The tree had to be doing something to her. She should be protesting instead of wiggling her hips and arching her breasts forward. Tree aphrodisiac or hypo-pollen -- she needed something to explain why she pulled one foot free of her jeans and opened her legs...

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

KATHRYN by Michelle Levigne

KATHRYN by Michelle Levigne 

Quarry Hall Book Three

Kathryn's retreat for relaxation and contemplation is interrupted to take a fugitive to safety, beyond the reach of authorities who may be compromised. The injured woman knows her name is Regina, but not why people were shooting at her. The journey to reach a friend in the FBI is complicated when Kathryn's illness requires frequent stops, permitting Regina's pursuers to nip at their heels.

When the mountains interfere with cell reception, and she can't stop long enough to make a call for help and advice, Kathryn has only her companion dog, her own wits, and prayer to depend on. Deception waits around every corner and Regina's attitude tests Kathryn's sympathy and her faith.



Regina muttered her farewell and scrambled into the truck. Kathryn stayed leaning against the front of the truck, scratching Bea behind the ears and talking with Pastor Small. She knew her companion wanted to get out of there, but she also knew the minister had questions. He had been patient and helpful and accepted what she told him. She couldn't repay him any other way except with as many answers as she could safely give.

"I really appreciate this," she said. "Not many people these days will help strangers with such a flimsy explanation."

"That isn't reason enough?" Pastor Small laughed and gestured over his shoulder at the white steeple with the gray metal cross on top.

"It should be, but--" She decided not to get into that area.

Sometimes the nastiest, most uncooperative people she had run across in her journeys were people who claimed to be Christians. Nine times out of ten, they based their long lists of what a "real" Christian should be on their own opinions and schemes to earn their way into heaven, and never checked what the Bible said.

"What really convinced you? Back when we were talking in the sanctuary, there was a moment when I thought you were going to throw us out or call the police, then you changed your mind."

"Those." He pointed at the shoes the custodian had given her.

"Oh. Sorry." She went to one knee and started to untie the paint-spattered sneakers.

"No, you ought to keep them." Pastor Small bent down and caught hold of her arm, tugging her upright again. "Four years ago, our youth group put together a time capsule as a joke when they renovated their classroom. Those are my shoes. It was quite a mess, with all the painting we did. We had a great time." He winked. "Those shoes should be in a locked metal box three feet underground, sealed in plastic wrap and cement."

"You're kidding." Kathryn felt a chill race up her back, but it was a good chill.

"Plus," he continued with a lopsided smile, "we don't have a custodian right now. The deacons and trustees and the ladies mission groups and other committees take turns with the upkeep and cleaning. The place hasn't looked this good in years..." Pastor Small tried to laugh. "Whoever -- or whatever -- helped you, he wanted you to be here. Who am I to argue?"

Monday, February 17, 2014

SEA BRIDE by LaVerne Thompson

SEA BRIDE by LaVerne Thompson

Children of the Waves Series

For 200 some years Xavior, a child of the waves, has searched the seven depths for his bride only to find her on land. How could a landwalker be his Queen, the one destined to stop the wars among the sea tribes? But one touch and he knew he'd defy Poseidon himself to make her his.

Cori Daniels hated the water; she'd been on board the luxury ocean liner for 2 days and hadn't left her cabin. But when she finally ventured on deck she met a man who looked like a sea god and tempted her like no other. But he tempted her to follow him into the sea.

How could she tell him she feared the water?



Xavior left the party and went for a walk around the boat, hoping to clear his head and maybe get a sense of this bride he needed to find. He’d ventured on land often in the last twenty years and met many human women he hadn’t slept with, so he had no idea which one of these his bride could be. If the tales were true, he would just know her, because he would be so drawn to her, the pull would be irresistible. After walking around for an hour, he returned to their cabin, but feeling too restless to sleep, he made his way out to their private balcony.

The evening sky remained clear, the glittering points of light soothing, and the sea appeared calm, but he smelled a storm coming. It would arrive soon from the east. Until it did, he would take advantage of the calm. Sitting back in one of the lounge chairs, he put his feet up on the railing, closed his eyes, and turned his face toward the half moon. A familiar clicking noise made him open them again. The shadows of dark fins in the water caught his attention. He stood up and placed his hands on the railing, watching the dolphins play as they swam alongside the boat.

They spoke to him, wanting to know how his quest went.

Did everyone know he was on a bride hunt? Of course they did. Not so good, he told them.

We’re rooting for you, Prince Xavior, young lord of the sea. She is right under your nose. Beware, though. There is a storm coming not of nature’s making. Good luck! As one group, all six dolphins leapt into the air in a salute to him, then swam away to most likely spread the news that after over two hundred years their prince remained unsuccessful in finding his mate.

He would be the first heir to lose the throne. Pathetic. What did they mean she was right under his nose? Was the sea witch right? Is his bride truly onboard? He still didn’t fully believe, but perhaps, he just needed to have patience and he’d find her. But their words about the storm made him frown. Someone playing with the elements was never a good thing, and only one would dare. For the moment, he could do nothing about the white witch and her plots to keep him off the throne and continue the wars among the tribes. He had enough to concentrate on…He’d deal with her later.


Sunday, February 16, 2014

PURPLE PROSE by Sam Cheever

PURPLE PROSE by Sam Cheever

Forget being creatively blocked. Forget being purple. They just want to survive the process of writing the book!

When she hits the writer's block of all writer's blocks, Lindsey Prince thinks her muse has abandoned her. But she opens her door one day to find a gorgeous new one standing there, "anxious" to help her finish her current project. There's only one problem... her new muse, Zahn, has been turned purple by Calliope, Chief of the Muses, for indulging in Purple Prose. Unfortunately, his fate rests on Lindsey submitting a purple prose free manuscript to her editor. No pressure there.

To make matters worse, Zahn apparently has a powerful and cranky ex-girlfriend who isn't all that thrilled by the growing attraction between Lindsey and Zahn. She'll do anything to stop Lindsey from submitting that manuscript. Anything. Based on the extremely heated "research" she and Zahn have been indulging in, Lindsey knows her sexy IR story will sizzle. She only needs to live through the process of writing it.

No easy task, that.



The door to what was apparently my guest room was closed. I stood outside in the hallway for a few moments trying to work up the courage to knock. What Zahn told me at dinner had freaked me out. I’d been worried a lot lately about my inability to put words on paper. I’d begun to suffer under not only the pressure I was placing on myself, but also the pressure I’d been feeling from my editor, Cathy, at my lack of writing production.

I hadn’t sent anything to Cathy for six months. She’d been carefully nudging me with questioning phone calls for the last three. I was in trouble and didn’t need any more pressure.

My plan was to tell Zahn he had to leave. I couldn’t deal with the responsibility for his life as well as mine. It was too much. I had enough problems of my own.

I bit my lip and lifted my fist to knock.

“Come in, Lindsey.”

I frowned at the door, my hand hovering. How’d he do that?

I opened the door and gasped. My mouth hung open as I viewed the unfamiliar room.

“I made a few changes.”

Zahn lay in the middle of the biggest bed I’d ever seen. It was covered by a gold silk comforter that looked about eight inches thick. He leaned against a headboard that reached almost to the ceiling and was padded in the same gold silk. He wore only a pair of black boxers. They shimmered in the soft silver light cast by a matching pair of crystal lamps on either side of the huge bed.

I stepped into the room and my feet sank into the deep, soft pile of an exquisite carpet in a deep cappuccino color. Paintings of nudes in various suggestive poses lined the walls, and shimmering gold fabric draped the window. In the far corner, perched on an oversized tree in a pot, Mike dozed with his head tucked under one wing.


“I hope you don’t mind. I needed to move a few of your things.” Zahn smiled.

I frowned. “Where’d you put all the boxes?”

“Around. Is there something wrong? You look worried.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to begin. Zahn patted the bed next to him. “Sorry, I didn’t think to add a chair. I usually just lie on the bed when I’m in here.”

I licked my lips, unable to stop the lustful thoughts flying through my mind. “That’s okay, I’ll stand.”

Two long creases appeared between his eyebrows. “Whatever it is, Lindsey, just spit it out. You’ll feel better.”

I opened my mouth, forcing the words out through a suddenly clenched throat. “It’s just that…well…I don’t think I can help you.” When he frowned, I rushed ahead with my excuses. “I can’t even help myself. I don’t want to be responsible for you being purple the rest of your life. It’s just too much pressure. I’m having enough trouble as it is…”

Zahn levered himself off the bed and started toward me.

My heart stuttered at his size and incredible beauty. At five-foot-three, I felt like one of the little folk standing next to him. His skin, looking black instead of purple in the silver light, shimmered like polished ebony. I knew it would be warm and smooth like the most expensive silk. His legs were long, straight, and muscular enough to be masculine, but not in the least bulky. His hips were narrow and his chest broad, with well-defined pecs. My muse was perfection in the male form. As he approached, his sexy almond eyes watched me with the intensity of a jungle cat on the prowl.

He lifted his big hands in my direction.

I flinched away, terrified by the feelings he’d conjured in me just by walking across the room.

Zahn placed his hands on my shoulders, moved them down my arms, and grabbed my hands. My pale skin looked true white against his darker flesh. “I know you’re scared and a little confused by all this, Lindsey. But I’m here because you need me. Not the other way around. I’m purple because of what I did. My actions. You have absolutely no responsibility for my problem.”

As he spoke, his skin warmed noticeably, and something soothing slid from him to me through our clasped hands. I shivered under the pleasurable assault, and my nerves settled.

Zahn leaned close, tilting his head with a soft smile. “Does that help?”

His breath danced softly across my face, and I opened my lips to pull it in. I slid my tongue over my lips as if to taste him.

Feeling slightly dazed, I started to nod but caught myself and shook my head. “No. I just don’t want your help right now. I didn’t ask for a muse and I don’t need one.” I jerked my hands from his and stepped back. I’d come into the room with firm objectives, but somewhere along the way my intentions got fuzzy. With a simple touch, he’d made my thoughts lose focus and overwhelmed my will with his. I didn’t know if he’d done it on purpose, but the result was the same. It was disconcerting.

Saturday, February 15, 2014



The Endowed Series

Find love where you least expect it this Valentine’s Day.

Valentine’s Day sucks. At least that’s what Mia thinks when her two lovers disappear and never arrive at their Valentine’s Day ceremony.

Now her boss wants her to attend this year’s mass wedding. It’s that or lose her job. What will she do when she finds that her two missing grooms are in attendance as well?


February 12th 2013

Mia stared up at the ceiling, her unfocussed gaze seeing nothing more in the darkness than the spinning blades of the fan over the bed. She blinked slowly, swallowing as her lovers kissed her neck. Their tongues traced a path to the tips of her breasts, drawing each one into the warmth of their mouths.

Wet velvet tongues circled her sensitive nipples. Moist lips circled the tight buds. She arched her back with a moan. Why didn’t they hurry? She needed them inside her so much, she thought she might go mad with it.

Strong fingers caressed her skin as they delved deep between her legs. She bucked at the first contact with her clit. Sharp teeth nipped and shards of pure electric pleasure shot straight from the hardened tips to her groin. Moisture slid sinuously from her channel, slickening her flesh.

“Tell us you want us, love.”

How could she tell them anything but what they wanted to hear? “God, yes! I want you so much.”

Tonight was the second time they would take her together. Afterward, they would leave for two days, returning just in time for the wedding ceremony they all had planned. Her blood heated at the thought that soon, the two of them would be inside her and she would truly belong to them both.

It was one thing to have two younger, hot men date her, and bed her, saying that everything was okay. It was another to have them together while she made love to them both.

Never had she thought she would ever be lucky enough to catch the attention of such handsome men. Never had she dreamed that the same two handsome men would want her—not at her age.

They looked so young, and she was no spring chicken. That was for sure. At forty, she looked almost old enough to be their mother. What had shocked her, though, was finding out that these two gorgeous guys were vampires. Both of them were ancient. She might look like a cradle robber while she went out with them, but the situation was, in fact, quite the reverse. Not that she minded at this moment in time.

They both suckled her nipples, pulling the tight buds into their mouths until she squeezed her eyes shut. Her thoughts, every conscious desire she had, floated away on a sea of lust and want until all she could think about was having them both inside her.

“**** me.” She tossed her head on the bed. “I can’t take this anymore. Please. **** me,” she begged while they continued to stroke her sensitized flesh. They nipped and licked their way over her body as she whimpered, her head thrashing on the thick comforter.

“We want this night to be unforgettable.” A hand cupped her cheek and turned her head. “Look at me,” Pierce said, the bass of his voice low with command.

Mia opened her eyes and looked up into his dark gaze. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, masking his brows.

“This night is in preparation for the fourteenth.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “We will claim you in the way that only we can that night. Until then, this must be enough, though it will give us all a cursory bond.” He bent his head to her breast to suck its tip into his mouth, his teeth nipping lightly. “Do we have your permission to do so?”

“Yes! God, Pierce, you and Vincent can do whatever you like. Just **** me!”


Tuesday, February 4, 2014



One blizzard plus two ex-lovers equals one passionate reunion in this Billionaires and Babies novel!

For years, billionaire producer Max Ford believed Raine Monroe had betrayed him. Now that he's back in his hometown, he wants answers. But his ex plans to keep her mouth shut and her heart far away from temptation…until a snowstorm strands them—with her baby—in her cozy farmhouse. Soon Raine is falling faster than the snow outside….

But she has to put a stop to it before a fling with Hollywood's hottest bachelor jeopardizes her chances of officially adopting her daughter—before saying goodbye again becomes impossible…before dark secrets from their past finally come to light….


Snowbound with a Billionaire
by Jules Bennett

Max Ford maneuvered his rental car carefully through the slushy streets. Granted this old, dirty snow lining the thoroughfares was nothing new to Lenox, Massachusetts, for the month of February, but it was quite a jump from the palm-draped avenues he was used to back in L.A.

He hadn't been back to Lenox in years and hadn't driven in snow in even longer, but, as he eased off the gas, he realized he'd missed doing this. Shooting a scene for a movie in the snow wasn't the same as spending time off enjoying the pristine white surroundings. Besides, usually when he would shoot a winter locale, it was with man-made snow and not the God-given kind.

Since Max had grown up here, Lenox would always hold a special place in his heart. The population may be small, but the bank accounts of the residents were anything but. The sprawling estates had stood for decades; some were main residences, others second homes.

The two narrow lanes wound through town, and, just as Max rounded the last turn, he spotted a car off the side of the road, its back end sticking up out of a ditch. The flashers were on, and the back door opened. The afternoon sun shone through the car windows, revealing a woman— bundled up with a stocking cap over her head and a scarf wrapped around her neck and mouth —stepping out.

Instinct told him to slam on his brakes, but he was born and raised on the East Coast and knew better.

Carefully easing his car off the road just ahead of the wreck, Max left the engine running as he stepped out into the frigid temperatures. Damn, that biting cold was something he hadn't missed.

Since he'd come straight from L.A., he didn't exactly have the proper shoes to be trudging in the snow, but there was no way he would leave a woman stranded on the side of the road. Granted he was only a mile from his destination and could've called someone, but that wasn't the type of man he was raised to be.

"Ma'am," he called as he drew closer. "Are you all right?"

He wondered if she'd hear him over the howling wind, but when she froze at his voice, he assumed she'd realized she wasn't alone.

The woman in a long, puffy gray coat turned. All Max could see was her eyes, but he'd know them anywhere. Those bright emerald-green eyes could pierce a man's heart.. and once upon a time, they had penetrated his.


Her eyes widened as she reached up with a gloved hand to shove her scarf down below her chin. "Max, what are you doing here?"

It was too damn cold to be having a discussion about anything other than her current predicament, so he asked again, "Are you all right?"

She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. "I'm fine, but the car is stuck."

"I can give you a lift," he offered. "Where are you going?"

"Um…I can call a friend."

Max nearly laughed. Were they really going to argue about this? It was freezing, he hadn't seen her in…too many years to count, and he really wanted to get to his mother, who was recovering from surgery.

"Seriously, just get in the car and I can take you anywhere," he said. "Grab your stuff and let's go."

Raine hesitated, holding his gaze as if she were contemplating waiting in the snow for another ride instead of coming with him. Granted they hadn't left things on the best of terms…. No, they had actually left their relationship on very good, very intimate terms. It was after he'd left that something had happened. And he had no clue what that something was because the last time he'd seen her, they'd been in love with plans for a future together.

Still to this day, thinking back on that time in his life left his heart aching.

But now was not the time to consider such things. Raine needed to get in, because who knows how long she'd been out here in the freezing cold, and she needed to call a wrecker.

"All right," she conceded. "I have to get a few things first."

She turned into the backseat and seconds later she faced him again, this time with carrier?

Whoa! He totally wasn't expecting her to have a baby in tow. Not that he'd planned on running into her like this at all, but still.

"Can you hold this?" she asked. "I need to get the base out and strap it into your car."

Base? He had no clue what a base was considering the only thing he knew about babies is that he used to be one. Max reached for the handle of the carrier and was surprised how heavy this contraption was. He didn't see the baby for the large blanket-looking thing with a zipper going up the middle. He supposed that was smart, seeing as how the wind was wicked cold right now, and keeping the baby as warm as possible was the best idea.

In all honesty, the idea of Raine with a baby was what really threw him. She was probably married, because a woman like Raine wouldn't settle for a child without having the husband first. And that thought right there kicked him in the gut. Even after all this time, the mental image of her with another man seemed incomprehensible. He had to chalk it up to the fact he'd had no closure on their relationship, because he refused to admit, after years of living apart, that he still had feelings for this emerald-eyed beauty.

She lifted some gray plastic bucket thing from the backseat and started toward his car. He assumed that was his cue to follow.

Max held the handle with both hands since there was no way in hell he'd take a chance dropping what he assumed to be a sleeping baby. Not a peep was made from beneath the zipper. Surely the child was okay after that accident. Her car was barely off the road but enough that the front end was kissing the snow-covered ditch.

Once Raine had the base in, Max carefully handed over the carrier. With a quick click, she had the baby in the warm car and had closed the door.

"I have to get the diaper bag and this gift I was delivering," she stated. "Go ahead and get in…I'll be right back."

"I'll get your bag." He stepped in front of her as she tried to pass him. "It's too cold and you've been out here longer than me. Is everything in the front seat?"

She nodded and looked so damn cute with snowflakes dangling on her lashes, her face void of makeup.. just like he'd remembered.

Not waiting for her to protest, Max turned back to her car, cursing the entire way. Cute? He was now thinking she was cute? What was he.. five? So they shared a past. A very intimate, very intense past, but in his defense, he hadn't seen her in nearly fifteen years. Of course old feelings were going to crop up, but that didn't mean they had to control his state of mind—or his common sense.

He jerked on her car door's handle and reached in, grabbing the pink diaper bag and a small floral gift bag. Who the hell delivered a gift when the roads were quickly becoming a sheet of ice? With a baby to boot?

Max slid back behind the wheel of his rental, cranked the heat as high as it would go and eased back out onto the road.

"Where am I taking you?" he asked.

"Um.I was on my way to see your mother."

Max jerked in his seat. "My mother?"

Raine barely looked his way before she focused her eyes back on the road, a place he should keep his.

"I swear I had no idea you were coming in today," she quickly told him. "I mean, I knew you were coming, but I didn't know exactly when that would be. If you'd rather I not go.I can come another time."

She was going to see his mother? Things certainly had changed since the last time he'd been in Lenox with Raine and his parents. The way he and Raine had fought to be together, defying both sets of their parents…and it all was for naught.

He cast a quick glance her way, noticed how she kept toying with the threads fraying off the hem of her coat, her eyes either staying in her lap or staring out the window. Why was she so nervous? Was it him? Was she mentally replaying every moment they'd spent together, just like he was? Was she remembering that last night they'd made love, and the promises they'd made to each other? Promises that he had fully intended to keep, not knowing she'd never hold up her end of the deal. Is that what had her so on edge?

"Why are you visiting my mother?"

Raine's soft laugh filled the car. "A lot has changed since you were in Lenox, Max."

Apparently…and since she had pointedly dodged his question, he assumed that was code for "none of your business." And she was right. Whatever she was doing was none of his concern. Once upon a time they knew every single detail about one another, but that chapter had closed. They were all but strangers at this point. Could this last mile be any longer? Thank God the drive was in sight.

"I didn't know you had a baby," he said, trying to ease the thick tension, but once the words were out, he realized he sounded like an idiot. "I mean, I assumed you had a life. I just never… So, how many kids do you have?"

"Just Abby. She's three months old."

"Do you need to call your husband?"

Way to go. Smooth, real smooth. Could I be any less subtle?

"No," Raine replied. "I'll call my friend when we get to your mother's house. He can come pick me up."

He? She was calling a male friend and not her husband.

Max mentally shook his head and scolded himself. Still this was none of his business.

He turned into the long, narrow drive. Straight ahead sat his childhood home, now his parents' second home, where his mother was waiting inside recovering from surgery. She would soon begin radiation treatments in town. Thankfully the doctors discovered the lump very early, and chemo wasn't needed.

Max had no clue how she'd look, but he knew he needed to be strong, and being thrown off by seeing Raine couldn't hinder his plans. His mother had to take top priority right now…. God knows his dad wouldn't man up in this situation.

The sprawling two-story colonial-style home always dominated the flat acreage surrounded by tall evergreens. Max loved growing up here and had been fortunate to have been adopted by Thomas and Elise Ford. He never knew his biological parents, and, even though he'd rarely seen eye to eye with his father, he knew there were much worse scenarios he could've entered into as an orphaned baby.

Max pulled in front of the house and killed the engine. "Why don't I take your diaper bag and gift?" he offered. "I'm not comfortable with that carrier…unless you can't maneuver it in the snow."

Raine glanced over at him and laughed. "I've been doing just fine for a few months now, Max. Longer than that before Abby came along."

She got out and closed the door. Her quick jab wasn't lost on him, but he had no idea why she was bitter. She was the one who'd dissed him when he'd gone to L.A. Destroyed any hope of sharing his life with her. And in his rage, after realizing she didn't want him, he had nearly got himself killed.

When he stepped from the vehicle, he noticed she was getting the carrier out, and also had the gift tote and her diaper bag dangling from her arm. Apparently this Raine was a bit more independent and stubborn than the old Raine. Who was he to argue?

He followed her up the steps, careful to stay close in case she slipped. By the time they reached the wide porch, they were stomping the snow off their feet. Max moved forward and opened the door for her, gesturing her in ahead of him.

If she was going to insist on carrying everything even though he'd offered, the least he could do is get the door and be somewhat gentlemanly.

The grand foyer looked exactly the same as when he had left home at eighteen. There was never a need for him to return to this home, because, as soon as he'd left for L.A., his parents had hightailed it to Boston.

His father had always loved the Boston area and thought it would make good business sense to branch out his pubs by starting a second in a larger city. Now his father had a chain of restaurants, and Max still wanted no part of the family business.

The wide, curvaceous staircase dominated the expansive entryway, allowing visitors to see all the way up to the second-floor balcony that ran the width of the entryway. A vast chandelier suspended down from the ceiling of the second floor, the lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the pale marble flooring.

Raine was just unzipping the blanket mechanism covering the carrier when his mother came into the foyer. Max didn't know what to expect when they finally came face-to-face after her major, lifealtering surgery, but relief quickly settled in when Elise Ford rushed forward and launched her petite little frame into his arms.

"Max," she said, looking up at him with beautiful blue eyes. "I'm so glad you're here. I hate to pull you away from your work, though."

He was careful how he returned her embrace, knowing the left side of her body was tender from surgery.

"I would drop anything for you, Mom. Besides, I don't start another movie for a couple of months, so I'm all yours." He smiled down at her, soaking in the fact that his mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer, but, had not only fought it, she'd beaten the odds and won. "I can't believe how great you look."

She laughed, swatting his chest. "What were you expecting? I'm sore, and I definitely have my moments where I'm feeling run-down and tired, but today is a good day. Not only is my son home, he brought a beautiful girl and a baby with him."

Max turned to see Raine directly behind him, cradling a swaddled, sleeping baby. While his eyes were drawn to Raine, his curiosity made him look down at the child, wondering what life his ex was leading now. Apparently she'd gotten all she'd wanted out of life: husband, baby, probably that farm of her grandmother's she'd always loved.

"Oh." Elise moved past Max and sighed. "Look how precious she is. Nothing sweeter than a sleeping baby."

How were babies always instant magnets for women? What exactly was the draw? Baby powder? Slobber? What?

As Max watched the maternal love that settled into Raine's eyes, the softness of her features, the tender smile, he couldn't help but be jealous of this baby.

Monday, February 3, 2014

TOUCH OF A DOM by Madeleine Oh

TOUCH OF A DOM by Madeleine Oh

Dominant Lovers Series Book Two

With her mother recently dead, Adele Royer is determined to find the father who abandoned them when she was a toddler. The only clues she has are two addresses in Nice that she finds among her mother’s papers. Determined to start her search in the South of France, she applies for a job as cook in Eze and becomes part of Luc Prioux’s staff at Les Santons.

She loves the job and is more than ready to begin her search but Branko Odic, Luc’s secretary, proves to be a delicious distraction. The passion they share is undeniable, their chemistry tangible. He becomes her dream Dominant in bed and a true friend as he aids her in her quest.

Together they find her father in nearby Cannes. But Adele is in for the shock of a lifetime.


Spectacle was the only word for the sight below. By the light of dozens of candles, a woman was spread-eagled on some sort of table by the pergola and a near-naked man stood at her head, cracking the whip on the paving stones. He was skilled, even in the poor light that was clear enough. With confident movements he whirled the whip from side to side, hitting the ground but never touching the woman. Her quiet moans rose up to where Adele watched and she shut her eyes a moment, imagining herself in the woman’s place and feeling the rush as the evil whip cut the night air.

Adele grasped the window sill to steady herself as her body responded to the sights and sounds below. She had missed this. How many months had it been since she’d had a session with a skilled Dominant? And this man was skilled. Was it Branko? Had to be. The security on the estate was far too tight for random couples to wander in and frolic on the terrace at will. Besides, this scene was carefully choreographed. She’d taken part in far too many not to notice that right away.

Helen –it had to be her–moaned and Adele moaned with her. This was too much, too wonderful but what the hell were they really doing? Had to be put on for her titillation. This employee benefit hadn’t been mentioned during the interview.

The tempo changed, the bullwhip hit the ground with a most stimulating crack and the man went over to the side and took up a flogger. It was unmistakable, even from here, and Adele cast a longing thought to her own flogger, now in her underwear drawer. She longed to feel its kiss on her skin. As Adele watched, Helen’s head and shoulders moved a little but mostly she sighed, reveling in the sweet caress as Branko stroked the full width of the spread tresses up and down her body before trailing them loosely down the inside of one leg and up the other.

Seemed he liked the effect, or perhaps her response, as he repeated the movement several times until Adele was half-ready to call out to him to do more, to ply the flogger harder and, as if sensing her wish, he did just that.

With a practiced and very skilled movement of the wrist, he tapped the end of the tresses across Helen’s thighs and shoulders and then flicked the flogger across her breasts. Oh! Switching techniques like that teased and aroused. Adele was wild and ready and whatever happened next and she was merely a spectator.

In the night she heard him say, “Are you ready, my dear?”

She darn well was. More than ready, overly ready, dying from readiness. This should be her reward. It was going to be.

Without pausing for slippers or robe, Adele dashed across the room, through the apartment and down the outside stairs. She ran across the drive, barely noticing the gravel on her bare feet, and called out, “No!”

Branko turned and watched as Adele ran toward them. This had not been part of his plan. A quick glance at Helen, still prone on the bench, showed she was even more stunned. Understandable, given her state of arousal.

“No?” he asked, sounding feeble to his own ears. “Were you invited?” Bit lame that but hell, he was ad libbing here.

“I invited myself. Wasn’t I intended to?”

Not exactly but now she was here he looked at her intently, hair all over the place, nothing on but a flimsy nightgown that did nothing to hide her full breasts and very tight nipples and the scent of her arousal filled the air. Her appearance was unexpected and downright unintended but most certainly not unwelcome.

“I’m glad you did, but tell me,” he hardened his voice, “why are you here, Adele?”

She shivered under his scrutiny but he suspected it wasn’t from cold, Rather from something far more enticing. For both of them.

She took a deep breath, tilted up her chin and met hid eyes. No modest and submissive lowering of eyes for her. He rather liked her attitude. “I’m in need and horny and you and your partner pretty much drove me to the edge.”

“Pretty much?” He raised his eyebrows slowly and met her eyes steadily. “Does that mean you are still on the edge?”

“Yes, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“And you expect me to take care of that?”

“Why not? You seem expert at these things.”

She was in need and wanted him. Wanted him to oblige her. He could be very obliging when necessary. He stepped close to her and fingered the neck of her nightgown. Nice, flimsy cotton, perfect to his mind. It covered but really didn’t conceal much. But even so…

“If you want me, you’d better be naked.” He put in just a hint of menace. Her breath caught but the nightgown was off and over her head before she exhaled.

Now he gasped. He’d seen many naked women, dozens even, but Adele took his breath away. Her breasts were large but gloriously firm and rounded, her nipples dark and every bit as hard as the little bumps under her nightgown had suggested but it was the incredible curve of her belly and generous roundness of her hips that drew his eyes down to the dark triangle of her pussy. His cock responded with passion, dire need and sheer and fantastic horniness.

He wanted her, right here and now but first… He raised the flogger that was still in his hand and asked, “Would you like me to discipline you?” She nodded. “I thought you might but— Damn!” He threw the flogger to the ground. “That will have to wait for next time.” He certainly couldn’t. Branko pulled her close, pressing his erection into the warmth of her lovely belly and he took her mouth with his.


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