A CROWN OF STARS by Pelaam

A CROWN OF STARS by Pelaam

As one of the fae, Anil is shocked that he must seek his mate in the human world, and riddles are his only clues to who that might be.

Anil is very attracted to Cefin when they meet, but this human lacks the crown of stars the riddle foretold.

However, when Cefin is kidnapped, there’s nothing Anil won’t do to get him back, even travel to the lair of the creature that took him.

Now Anil has a rescue to undertake as well as solving the mystery of the crown of stars.

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Excerpt:

 

A cascade of water startled Anil from his reverie, and he fluttered his wings with indignation. Droplets of water sprayed around, but none caught the culprit, although Anil heard his friend’s laughter.

“You’ll pay for that later, Fintan. I won’t forget.” Anil shook himself for good measure, and then flew toward the sounds of more laughter.

“It’ll be worth it.” Fintan lay sprawled comfortably across a large flower, and grinned up at Anil. He scooted up, so that both could perch on the large, golden bloom. “I wanted to cheer you up. You don’t seem yourself these last few days.”

Fintan looked as concerned as he sounded, and Anil hugged him tightly. “I can’t explain it,” he said. “I just feel ... unsettled. As though there’s something I should do, or somewhere I should be. Yet there isn’t. But I feel a pull, an urge.” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “It makes no sense to me. I just can’t put it into words.”

“Do you think it’s the mating urge?” Fintan’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“But there is no one,” Anil said, and his voice rose in frustration. “I’m attracted to no one I know among the fae. I’ve looked around. There are no strangers in our glade, and I even spoke to an elf, and he says things are quiet in the woodland realm, and I don’t feel the urge to go there. I just feel ... unsettled. Like I need to be—somewhere else.” He sighed heavily.

Fintan rose into the air and then leaned down to pull Anil up. “Let’s go and see Nuha. She may find something to help you in her seeing bowl.”

Anil hovered with his friend. “You’ll come with me?” he asked.

“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

Anil grinned. “I’m lucky to have you,” he said as they flew towards Nuha’s tree.

Nuha welcomed them both inside, and took them through to a room at the back of her home. Anil and Fintan sat side by side, and Nuha took her place at a table. In the centre of the table sat a wide, shallow, dark blue bowl. Nuha stirred the water inside her seeing bowl, and gazed at the swirls as Anil and Fintan watched intently.

"He whom you seek has come," she murmured.

Her voice was deeper, more resonant, and almost unrecognisable from her normal light and gay tones.

"Who?" Anil asked eagerly, but Nuha showed no sign of having heard him.

"You will know him from the signs, a crown of stars, blue like the ocean, and golden sun. But there is danger. Danger comes from iron over water. To leave love unfound is to give it to darkness. To find love is to look beyond our realm, and into the realm of mortals, yet as close as a kiss."

The water stilled, and Nuha looked up at them.

"Is that it?" Anil asked. "It's all in riddles. Can't you tell me what any of that meant?"

"Sorry, Anil, but I never remember what was spoken or can decipher the meanings even if you told me word for word. That's the way the waters work." Nuha stretched and rubbed her eyes.

"A crown with stars in it," Fintan said. "Is the crown itself blue, or is that something else? Crowns are usually golden, so that makes no sense."

"None of it makes sense," Anil said and shook his head. "Worse yet, I have to look in the mortal realm. Why there? Surely my soul mate can't be a mortal?"

"Soul mates come in many forms, Anil." Nuha’s voice was soft, but stern.

Anil winced at the chiding tone. "Sorry," he muttered. I'm a fairy, one of the fae. I expected my mate to be a fae, or perhaps elven, but not a mortal. Now what do I do? Do I ignore the call? But that meant danger. I'm so confused.

Fintan seemed to sense his distress, clasped his hand, and pulled him to his feet. "Thank you, Nuha. You see what you see, and it's up to us now."

Once outside Nula's home, Anil turned to his friend. "What do I do?"

"We need to let your family know what Nuha has said. Then we need to go into the mortal realm, and find your soul mate."

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HIS SOUL TO KEEP by Luxie Ryder

HIS SOUL TO KEEP by Luxie Ryder

Malachi Bane had been condemned to live forever without the woman he would love until the day he died. He waits out eternity in isolation, on a small island near Maine. When a visiting couple threatens his peaceful existence, Bane prepares to kill them but is compelled to save the life of the woman he has become strangely fascinated with.

Amber Kirkwood isn't impressed by Bane's macho attitude and has no idea how her rescue from the island will set off a chain of events she has no control over or desire to be a part of.

When the physical and emotional bonds begin to grow between the unlikely couple, Bane longs to 'change' Amber, in order to save her life and keep her with him forever. But she fears for her immortal soul and Amber can't be sure that what she feels for Bane truly is worth dying for.

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~Excerpt~

Amber gasped when she noticed Bane’s erection and she cast a quick look at his face to see if he had woken. He hadn’t moved a muscle since the last time she’d checked —except that now, his obsidian gaze locked with hers.

 The shaking in her knees intensified and a tremble skittered across her skin as her groin convulsed. Amber knew she should run back to the sofa and rethink her plan to seduce Malachi Bane.

 She had waited for him to return, determined to make him face her as an equal rather than his victim. What he’d done to her with nothing more than his mind hadn’t even nearly satisfied her. Amber wanted him.

 Bane’s strong, muscled body lay inches from her if only she had the courage to reach out and show him what she wanted. Amber took a step closer, ignoring the hand he put up in warning. Emboldened that he hadn’t told her yet to stop, she pulled her t-shirt off, revealing her bare breasts to him.

“Amber, no,” he groaned, but she could see by the hungry glint in his eyes that he didn’t mean it. She pulled at the zipper of her jeans, holding his gaze with hers and silently pleading that he let her do what she needed to. She kicked the denim off along with her panties and closed the distance between her and Bane.

 He shut his eyes again, as if trying to blot out her image. “It’s not really me you want,” he said, his voice rough with tension. “You are reacting to an inbuilt lure, designed to pull you in so I can prey on you.”

Amber placed her knee onto the edge of the bed and crawled over him, coming to rest with her legs straddling his. The skin of his thighs was cool against hers, his body the same temperature as the interior of the cave.

“That’s why I came to you this way – so you would know I am here because I want to be.” She dropped a kiss on his chest. “Because I need to be.”

Bane lay beneath her unmoving; his jaw set in a rigid line as if trying to keep control. Amber licked and nibbled at him, ignoring his attempts at resisting her and thrust her groin down onto his, gasping as his erection brushed against her sensitive skin.

 Suddenly, his fingers slid into her hair, his movements so fast that the gentle touch surprised her. But just as she thought he had accepted her – that he would give her what she asked for – he lifted her head to look at her, a plea in his eyes.

“Amber, don’t do this.”

She hushed him. “You could have stopped me by now if you wanted to, Bane.”

His hand slid out of her hair and she turned her face to it, kissing his palm and trailing her tongue up to his fingers. She locked her gaze on his and sucked the tip into her mouth. He tensed beneath her and his eyes closed with a groan, his body shaking, as if fighting the urge to move or respond.

 Amber leaned forward, brushing her lips across his gasping mouth. Bane jerked away from her, holding her off by her shoulders. She diverted her attentions to his lower half, snaking her feet into the gap between his thighs as she moved down with the intention of taking him in her mouth. Her tongue left a wet trail over his skin and she heard the breath still in his throat as he anticipated her touch. Her head came to a rest on his pelvis and she looked at him, watching his reaction when her breast came into contact with his rigid penis.

 Bane surged up from the bed, grabbing her shoulders again and lifting her away from him. “Slowly, Amber…don’t move too fast.”

Simply relieved that he hadn’t rejected her again, she laughed at his warning. If he came quickly, they could try again as soon as he had recovered. Her hand moved to his cock without hesitation.
A growl erupted from the man beneath her, so sudden, loud and fierce, it scared her upright. Bane threw his forearm over his face, but not before she’d seen the long, white teeth biting into his lip.

 Amber screamed…and then things started to happen really fast.

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CUSTOMER SATISFACTION by Cheryl Dragon

CUSTOMER SATISFACTION by Cheryl Dragon

Lucky Springs Book Seven

Keeping customers happy is Lizzie Bouvier’s job. In public, she’s everything a sweet Cajun woman should be. However, in private, she likes things a little bit rougher.

Her two hot boyfriends have been doing a great job keeping her satisfied until one steps out of the triad. Not willing to give up, Lizzie pursues an attraction to the Stinger brothers, two of her sexy customers who just happen to be dating her ex-boyfriends.

The bigger the group, the hotter the sex, but they have to sort out the rules, commitments and past before things can move forward in a truly permanent group relationship.

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To some, Lucky Springs was just a sleepy, small town in the middle of Louisiana. For Lizzie Bouvier, it was the perfect fit.

After dinner at the café with the two men, she’d been seeing, the trio walked down Main Street.
Group relationships and an excess of attractive men made the small town a real haven for those who wanted to be unique but not hide out in a big city.

“Do you miss Shreveport?” Byron Thurmon asked.

Lizzie shook her head. “That was too loud and busy. I like it here.”

How could she not like it when she had two sexy, bisexual men? They were sweet, and she could watch them and enjoy both of their attentions. Byron had short black hair and deep blue eyes. He was strong and lean. When she started as a customer service representative at the Lucky Springs factory, she’d been attracted to Byron and his boyfriend, Fisher Mulroy, right off the bat.

“Maybe you’re secretly planning to move back to the bayou?” Fisher took her hand.

“No way. I couldn’t have two men on a date back there. My brothers and cousins would feed you to the swamp critters.” Walking between them, she felt safe but couldn’t shake the sensation something was missing. It could just be an off night. With three in a relationship, it was always a learning experience.

And here, two was nothing. Her friends Zoe and Ashley had each ended up with four men to juggle. Lizzie wasn’t greedy, and the pair would be plenty. It’d still be daring compared to her simple Cajun roots. The odd feeling wasn’t about keeping up with her friends but about the way the trio clicked so far. She’d been here about a year and dating the two men over five months, but it still seemed light and fun. There was no real sense of moving things to a more serious level. Though both Byron and Fisher were born and raised in Lucky Springs, she hadn’t met Fisher’s family at all yet and had only been introduced to a few of Byron’s family members. In some areas, everything was perfect, but it also didn’t feel serious for almost five months of dating.

While Zoe and Ash’s men all had their lives and acts together, making things move quickly, that didn’t mean it’d be the same for Lizzie or her other roommate Crystal, who was still single. The four friends had moved here from Shreveport a year ago after being laid off during the recession and found jobs at the factory.

“Want us to take you home?” Fisher asked as they arrived at the guys’ apartment building.

Fisher was younger and still a bit bashful at twenty-five even though he’d been with Byron since high school. She assumed Fisher simply hadn’t been with girls too often. He seemed still to be in the bachelor phase. His short brown hair, pale blue eyes and boyish face endeared him to her. Both men were dressed casually in khakis and polo shirts, and she wanted more time with them in less clothing.
“No, maybe I’ll come up and hang out for a bit.” She followed them up the stairs to their new place. The factory expansion begun two years ago had triggered some building in the town, which had attracted most of the single men. Now things were leveling off, and the town was finding its balance again.

While the house Lizzie and her friend Crystal were renting felt homey and inviting, the guys’ newly built apartment building still smelled of paint. Both men had lived in the town all their lives.

As much as she loved them, maybe they weren’t ready to settle down. Flopping on the couch, she forced away her questions. Rushing a commitment or any relationship was a classic mistake. Lizzie was old-fashioned and wanted the family and stability. That attitude frequently scared men off.

On the other hand, Lizzie wasn’t the type to hop from group to group. The dream of a home and a white picket fence with kids playing still worked for her. What happened in private was just that—private.

When the two men sat down on either side of her and started kissing her neck, it certainly felt right. Her stress and questions melted as her body heated up. Their strong bodies pressed to her, and she knew it wasn’t wrong.

The practiced team unbuttoned her sundress and slid it down her body, and Byron immediately sucked her breast into his mouth. She wasn’t overly endowed and loved getting the looks when she went braless. The lack of panties didn’t go unnoticed either. Fisher rubbed her slit gently.

Her body flushed and tingled as the arousal took hold. In no time, Fisher’s fingers were slick. Her body arched for more as Byron nipped her breasts. She reached down and stroked them through their pants. They were hard, and she needed them naked. Now.

Working on their flies, she watched the men remove their shirts. When Fisher leaned in and kissed Byron, her cunt trembled. Men who liked to screw each other added a new layer of wildness in her sex life. Two men had always been a fantasy, but her reality was even better. Byron’s chest had thick hair that trailed down to his cock while Fisher was smoother. They were a sexy pair.

She kissed Fisher then Byron while she massaged their erections to full length. Licking her way down Fisher’s body, she inhaled his masculine scent. She knelt on the couch and nuzzled Fisher’s shaft playfully at first.

Byron slid behind her on the sofa and gripped her hips. Gasping, she opened her legs and let him eat her pussy. Two men were perfect. She could dream of juggling more, but two kept her busy. Byron’s tongue worked her closer and closer to orgasm as she sucked Fisher’s member in deeper.

“Please,” she said, stroking Fisher as she rubbed back on Byron.

“Come for me, then I’ll fuck you,” he said.

They loved to tease, and she couldn’t argue with men who could go all night. She relaxed and stopped trying to hold on. Byron massaged her inner folds and licked in and out of her. What she needed was his erection right there, but she was too close to argue.

Fisher cupped her breasts and tugged on her nipples. She sucked his balls as she rocked back on Byron until he fingered her clit just right. The heat and tremors spread instantly throughout her. She pressed her face to Fisher’s hard body as she moaned. Byron held her hips and ate her through as her climax faded.

“She needs more than that,” Fisher said.

“A lot more.” She grabbed his pants from the floor, dug into Byron’s pocket and found a condom. The men were always prepared.

Instead of passing it back, she slid it on Fisher, facing him, and straddled his hips. Long and thick, the young man was well endowed. Sinking slowly on his cock, she watched the relief and surrender in his eyes. She rode him hard but took her time.

“You want two or are you teasing Fisher?” Byron nibbled on her neck.

“He’ll never last if you join in there.” Lizzie gripped Byron’s cock and tugged him up until he sat on the back of the couch next to Fisher.

“God, yes!” Fisher sucked Byron’s cock as if he hadn’t had a man in weeks.

Lizzie smiled up at Byron as her fingers teased his balls just behind his sac. He thrust harder into Fisher’s mouth, and in turn, Fisher lifted into her cunt faster. She squeezed Fisher’s cock deep inside of her as she pinched Byron’s tight ass. The sexual compatibility blew her mind. It was so fluid and shameless she let herself go more than she ever had with just one man. She’d asked for more from them than any other.

She drove herself down on Fisher’s cock, and he grabbed her hips, helping her add force as she rode. There was no problem with liking things a little rough, but she’d never admitted that to anyone but them. Byron held her hair and pressed her to his balls. She nipped them, and he smiled. Then his hand connected to her ass.

A little spanking got her going. She’d discovered the sexy duo didn’t mind giving her a taste of the firmness in bed. They weren’t into domination really, but her love of harsher play made them see her not as a sweet bayou girl but a woman who needed two men and a lot of sexual attention.

“More,” she moaned.

Byron gave her a swat on the other cheek, and the sting stimulated her, making the sex better. The rush pushed her to grind on Fisher’s cock. He released Byron’s cock and pinched her nipples, rolling them until she groaned. Only then did Fisher slide his fingers down and pat her clit. The spark nudged her closer to release, but they had to come too or she’d never be satisfied.

Thrusting into her, Fisher made her body bounce as he jerked Byron’s cock. She loved the view and the deep ways the men both were touching her right now.

“Fuck!” Byron’s cum shot over Fisher’s chest and down his fist.

“More?” Fisher jerked his lover a little longer and added a harder tap to her clit.

“Yes!” Byron smacked her ass before sliding behind her.

“Oh God!” She fell forward and clutched Fisher as the release sent her into convulsions. Byron held her, and Fisher rolled her nipples again. The throbbing and deep tremors overtook her body. Her hips snapped down on Fisher’s erection even as her orgasm faded. She licked Byron’s cum off Fisher’s chest then bit his skin.

“More!” Fisher shouted.

She felt his release, and Byron pinning her between their bodies as the men kissed. Snuggling up, she joined their kiss, and they held her tight.
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THREADS OF YESTERDAY by Sam Cheever

THREADS OF YESTERDAY by Sam Cheever

Yesterday Paranormal Mysteries Book Two

A deadly secret is tangled up in Yesterday’s Threads, and Anna is racing the clock to get it unraveled.

In 1859, Elisabeth Margaret Nelson traveled to Crocker, Indiana to meet her new husband and start a new life. Her family never saw her again. The story of her death and a heartbroken husband who grieves his entire life is a sad tale for sure. But is it true?

When Anna Yesterday receives some vintage dresses from the local museum, she’s excited about highlighting them at Crocker’s annual Apple Blossom Festival. But someone wants the dresses back, and they’ll apparently stop at nothing to get them—leaving a trail of murder and destruction in their wake.

As Anna and Pratt work to uncover the deadly intrigue behind the vintage dresses, interference of another kind is working its way to the surface. All too soon, Anna and Pratt find themselves neck deep in trouble from more than one dimension—and wondering which will get them first!

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Excerpt:

 

Pratt went into the rest room and splashed cool water on his face. He glanced quickly into the mirror, grimacing. He looked like hell. But he felt good despite the long night. Seeing Anna smile again made it worth every bit of work.

Morticia had helped, as had Joss and Bess, and between the four of them they’d managed to pull some semblance of order back into Anna’s treasured work space. She’d still be hard pressed to pull the festival displays together, but at least she could see what she had to work with.

He dried his face and hands and headed into the break room. The delicious aroma of coffee met him well before he reached the door. “That smells amazing—”

Warm, soft woman enfolded him, the delicious scent of vanilla and roses engulfing his senses. Exquisite lips touched his and the world narrowed down to the sensations her kiss and nearness caused. Pratt’s arms went around her waist as he gave himself over to the sweetness of the kiss.

Anna’s lips parted and she swiped her tongue over his lips, prompting him to let her in. Pratt gladly obliged, his tongue tangling hungrily with hers. Her hands slipped upward, rubbing his back in gentle circles as her body pressed deliciously against his.

Pratt’s body exploded into full-blown need, spurred into a near-painful state by the simple press of her soft body and the sweet taste of her mouth. When she broke the kiss they were both slightly breathless.

She touched his lips with the tip of one finger and he kissed it. “Not that I’m complaining but…what was that for?”

“That was thank you. I can’t believe you worked all night setting this place to rights. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

He lowered his head and rubbed noses with her, enjoying the tender swell of her breasts against his chest. “I think you just did.”

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A PRINCE TO BE FEARED by Mary Lancaster

A PRINCE TO BE FEARED: THE LOVE STORY OF VLAD DRACULA by Mary Lancaster

Europe’s most fearsome prisoner, Vlad Dracula, gifted military commander and one time Prince of Wallachia, the notorious Lord Impaler himself, is about to be released after twelve long years, in order to hold back the tide of Ottoman aggression. The price of his new alliance with his Hungarian captors is the king’s cousin Ilona.

Ilona does not wish to be married. In particular, she doesn’t wish to marry Vlad. Gentle, faded and impossibly vague, Ilona is hardly fit for court life, let alone for dealing with so difficult a husband.

But Ilona’s wishes have nothing to do with Vlad’s reputation and everything to do with a lifelong love affair that finally broke her. Ilona’s family blame Vlad; Vlad vows to discover the truth and sets out by unconventional means to bring back the woman who once enchanted him. Among court intrigues, international manoeuvrings and political deceptions, Vlad reveals himself more victim than villain. But he’s still more than capable of reclaiming his lost rights to both Wallachia and Ilona; and Ilona, when it counts, has enough strength for them both.

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Here's a long excerpt from Chapter One, followed by a short, romantic one!

Chapter One

Visegrád, Hungary, 1474

He made a perfect villain. Even after years of imprisonment and the loss of all he’d once won, even with the prospect of regaining his country and his crown being dangled before him like a carrot, Vlad Dracula still looked fierce, arrogant, and utterly unrepentant.

From his shadowy position in the gallery above the exercise chamber, Stephen, Prince of Moldavia, watched the long, hard fight reach its inevitable conclusion. Both men wielded their swords with skill and with such force that without the protective padding they wore, and the presumably blunted blades of their swords, there would have been blood everywhere. But although his opponent was younger and this was sword play rather than battle, Vlad, the one-time Prince of Wallachia, always fought to win.

Stephen would have been disappointed if defeat and hardship had dimmed the ferocious gleam in his cousin’s eye, if the humiliation of his long imprisonment had managed to bow him. If it ever had, and Stephen couldn’t really doubt it, he was back with a vengeance, and the knowledge made Stephen smile involuntarily as the pleasure of memory overcame the dull pain of loss.

At heart, surely, he and Vlad were still the same men who’d set out together as youths, shoulder to shoulder, to win the world for themselves and each other. Young and invincible.

The swords, flashing in the streaming sunlight, clashed together, screeched painfully, and suddenly the younger man staggered backwards, his sword falling to the floor.

At the same time, the door into the exercise chamber flew open, and a crowd of young men strode in. They stopped in their tracks, staring, as Vlad dropped his padded jacket on the floor and said something to his erstwhile opponent. It might have been gracious or taunting. Stephen couldn’t tell, and neither could the noisy youths at the door who exchanged low-voiced comments in an excited sort of way as Vlad walked across the room.

He still moved like a large cat, quick and dangerous yet peculiarly graceful, sure in the knowledge that whoever was in his path would swiftly get out of it. But the youths, clearly, had never met Vlad Dracula, only heard of him, and they were looking for easy glory.

Behind him, on his feet once more, the man he’d just defeated watched in silence. Vlad himself, finding his way blocked, stood very still. Stephen, his heart beating unaccountably fast, eased backwards to observe better as the prince looked around the four bristling youths.

“If you wish to address me,” he said haughtily, his voice sending shivers down Stephen’s spine, “you must stand at least a foot away from my person.”

“I was here first,” the largest blustered with unforgivable rudeness. Vlad’s age as well as his rank entitled him to far greater courtesy. But with a flash of rueful insight, Stephen saw what his old friend was up against: boys who imagined it was safe to bait the monster of Wallachia because he was a helpless prisoner. And he would be a magnet for the young glory hunters. Stephen’s guilty heart wrenched as if the humiliation was his own rather than Vlad’s.

But Vlad appeared to be used to it. Without warning, he seized the young man by the throat and hurled him across the room. Before the others could react, he rattled his sword between the heads of the two on either side, knocking them apart.

“Let me help you with your manners,” Vlad said contemptuously and strolled out of the room.
His recent fencing partner grinned, somewhat to Stephen’s surprise since the half-strangled youth on the floor was choking and clutching his throat, and blood oozed down the faces of the two who’d come in contact with Vlad’s sword. Clearly it wasn’t so very blunt after all.

Vlad’s fencing partner sauntered across the floor, tutting. “That’s no way to pick a fight with His Highness,” he observed. “I’m sure your parents taught you better.”

Stephen didn’t wait to hear more. Judging it was now safe to descend from the gallery without encountering Vlad, he made his way to the stairs just as a servant appeared at the top with the news that the king awaited him in the garden.

“Well, did you see him?” the King of Hungary demanded almost as soon as Stephen stepped into the fresh air. Slightly disoriented as much by his own churning emotions as by the sight of the royal retinue spreading around the terrace, Stephen took a moment to focus on King Matthias Corvinus. The king beckoned him away from the rest of his following, and Stephen obediently fell into step beside him. They appeared to be walking alone in the direction of the king’s formal garden.

“Yes, I saw him.”

“Did he look pleased with himself?”

A breath of laughter escaped Stephen. “No more than usual.”

“Well, Ilona’s here, so our plan is almost complete.”

Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. With the Ottomans threatening the borders of Moldavia, he needed the Hungarian alliance. And the Wallachian one.

“Have you told him which marriage you intend for him?” Stephen asked.

“Of course.”

“What did he say?” Stephen asked curiously.

The king shrugged. “Nothing.”

“I thought he’d be pleased.” Stephen couldn’t help his pique. He’d done Vlad a rather selfless favour promoting this marriage, considering he’d once coveted Ilona Szilágyi himself—even before her cousin Matthias had become King of Hungary. And in Stephen’s eyes, the existence of his own beautiful wife did not detract from this generosity.

“The alliance is good, and he knows it,” Matthias said comfortably. “Let’s go and find her. A private, informal meeting will be kinder.”

****

 She moved among the bright spring flowers like a wraith, grey and dull against the carpets of yellow and orange and white spread out before her. Although her steps were quick and light, almost gliding, she made slow progress, stopping frequently to bend and examine the blooms in minute detail. As she crouched down, her grey veil, which was the only head covering she wore, fell forward over her face. One slender, elegant hand pushed it back absently, revealing a tired, almost emaciated face, the skin stretched taut across the high, broad bones of her cheeks and the narrow, almost pointed chin below. With a little more animation, she might have resembled a peasant child’s idea of a witch. As it was, she just looked worn-out, vague, and very badly dressed.

Stephen blurted, “That is Ilona Szilágyi?”

“You are shocked by my cousin’s appearance?” The king sounded amused. “You can’t have laid eyes on her in ten years!”

“More,” said Prince Stephen. “The Ilona I remember was not afraid to speak her mind to anybody. This one looks terrified of her own shadow.”

“All to the good,” said the king, just as the woman caught sight of the two men approaching along the path and rose to her feet.

Suddenly uncertain, Stephen touched the king’s velvet-clad arm. “Are you sure about this?”

The king lifted one interrogative eyebrow at him. The rest of his attention and the gracious smile beginning to form on his lips were for the woman in grey.

“You would truly give your cousin to him?” Stephen felt obliged to check now that he’d seen her.
“In all her…frailty?”

“Well, damn it, man,” said the king through his smile, “what else is she good for? Cousin Ilona!”
The grey lady extended one ungloved hand, and the king, who had clearly meant to embrace her, deftly clasped it between both of his instead while she dropped a faint bob of a courtesy. “Are you enjoying my gardens?”

She mumbled something in return, drawing her hand free and casting a glance up at Stephen before returning her patient gaze to the king.

“You do not recognise an old friend?” the king said jovially. “Prince Stephen of Moldavia.”

Her eyes came back to him with curious reluctance. “What a surprise,” she said vaguely, “to find you here. Now.”

Stephen blinked. Was that sarcasm in the calm, indifferent voice? Did she actually understand why he was here at Visegrád, on such obviously friendly terms with his one-time enemy, the king? The doubt kept him from noticing till later that it was the only greeting she gave him.

Her eyes moved on to the newly planted trees at the far end of the walled garden. She said distantly, “What is it you want, Matthias?”

Clearly unused to being so addressed these days, the King of Hungary frowned, as if searching for a suitable reply. His ageing cousin dragged her eyes back to him. “I want to go home,” she explained. “I don’t care to live in palaces anymore. Tell me what you brought me here for so that I can do it and leave. Please,” she added by way of an afterthought.

King Matthias beamed at her. “I brought you here because I have found you a husband.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t want one.” She might have been refusing an apple or a sweetmeat.

“Nonsense,” the king said robustly. “Every woman wants a husband, and you have been widowed, what, nine years? Ten?”

“I have grown comfortable as I am. I don’t need your favour in this.” After a pause, her wandering eyes came back to his, and she added with some difficulty, like a forgotten rhyme or prayer, “Though I thank you for thinking of me.”

“To be frank,” said the king, “I am thinking of myself too.”

A hint of amusement flitted through her dark brown eyes, like an echo of the youthful beauty Stephen remembered. She was still only, what, thirty-six or thirty-seven years old? She didn’t need to look such a damned fright.

She said, “Matthias, I am no prize—a mere cousin, widowed and ageing. Surely we have better relatives with whom to buy allegiance. Unless you wish to appease with a well-born prize of no value?”

She must have seen the truth in her royal cousin’s face, for a breath of ghostly laughter escaped her pale lips. “Give him a castle instead,” she advised, reaching down for a yellow daffodil, whose head was drooping much like her own.

“I’ll give him a castle—lots of castles—as well,” Matthias said with the first hint of impatience.
“Don’t you want to know which bridegroom I have chosen for you?”

“No.” Frowning over the impossibility of the task; she was trying and failing to stiffen the flower’s neck.

“It’s an old friend of yours—the Prince of Wallachia.”

As if she couldn’t help it, her gaze flew up to the king’s. But, straightening, she only said sardonically, “Which Prince of Wallachia?” Her eyes alighted on Stephen, some of their vagueness falling away like petals in a breeze. “You can’t be trying to buy Radu. He already has a wife. And Besarab…”

Abruptly, she broke off. Her eyes fixed on a point beyond his head, and, turning, he saw that it was on the lowering building known as Saloman’s Tower. Some distance downhill from the main castle, almost on the bank of the Danube, only the top of the tower was visible from where they stood. It was where the king imprisoned rebellious nobles and other high-ranking enemies. She knew he was here; she had always known.

She said, “No.” The word came out no more than a strangled whisper. Backing away from them, she clutched at her veil with trembling fingers, tugging until it sat askew on her head. Beneath it, her hair was still burnished red-gold, though Stephen could glimpse traces of grey streaking through it. And suddenly she was speaking again, with an intensity she hadn’t looked capable of seconds before. “No, Matthias, not that. Please… ! Don’t put me back on that sleigh ride, not with him…!”

“You’re not making any sense,” Matthias said coldly.

A sneaking compassion entered Stephen’s guilty soul, drowning whatever brief suspicion had arisen about her pretending this ridiculous new character Perhaps these were not the amends he should be making to his cousin. He had been right when he first saw her—she wasn’t capable of dealing with Vlad now; time had not been kind to her. Nor fate, he acknowledged, remembering belatedly the awful execution of her father at Ottoman hands, then the sudden death of her mother and the suicide of her closest friend barely a year later—almost at the same time, surely, as she’d fled Wallachia before the invading Ottomans. No wonder she looked like a ghost of her own past.

Matthias said sternly, “I need Wallachia on my side. It’s unstable. Neither Radu nor Besarab can be trusted, either to hold out against the Ottomans or to remain loyal to me. I need him back there. And his price is you.”

“His price?” she exclaimed. “His? He doesn’t have one for freedom after twelve years! He doesn’t have a price for taking back his own country! Just send him there, and he’ll hold it at your back as he always did, as he always would if you hadn’t—”

Breathless, she broke off, whirling away from them as if trying to hide the agitation she had already betrayed. Matthias and Stephen exchanged glances.

The king said, “It’s your duty, Ilona. And the man has a fondness for you; he won’t hurt you. He asked for you before, remember?”

Her hand flapped helplessly. She mumbled something that might have been, “Fourteen years ago.” And ruefully, Stephen had to agree that the bridegroom might well be a little shocked by the changes those fourteen years had wrought in his old friend.

*
 (And now the romantic excerpt, which takes place in 1457, 17 years before the  events above...) Stepping out, with her hand still in his, Ilona inhaled the scents of the night, delicate spring flowers, a hint of herbs drifting over from the kitchen garden, the fading remains of the splendid dinner. She lifted her face into the cooling breeze and breathed deeply as they walked toward the formal flower beds.

As if making a discovery, she said, “That’s the first time I’ve danced with you.”

“I hope it won’t be the last.”

“I can’t remember ever having so much fun.” The words spilled out because they were in her head. Once said, she realised they were probably unwise, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t take them back.

“Even among all those fine young suitors in Buda?”

“Some of them were old,” Ilona confided.

“Who found the most favour?”

“With me? None of them.” She was already spoiled, because her heart had been given long ago to a strange, driven man with a hard face and profound green eyes you could drown in. Those heavy-lidded eyes that seemed to leap now at her flippant comment. A smile played around his full lips.

“You are a difficult woman to catch. Elusive…You slip through my fingers like…” He broke off, pausing in midstride to lift a lock of her hair, letting it trickle over his palm and between his fingers. “Like that.”

Though she’d recovered her breath, her heart still beat like a drum. She said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

The smile tugged his lips higher and faded. “I know you don’t.” Gently, he pushed the captured lock of hair behind her head and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered so hard it was almost painful. He bent toward her until his hair fell across her neck and she forgot to breathe.

His lips touched hers, brushed once, and sank into her mouth. Ilona closed her eyes, let the happiness consume her. It was a brief embrace, yet one so longed for and never imagined that it shook her utterly. When he released her lips, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him. In wonder, she lifted her hand and touched his rough cheek with her fingertips, pleading, though for what she barely knew.

“Again?” he asked huskily.

“Again,” she whispered, and he took her mouth once more, this time in a longer, much more thorough kiss. She felt his tongue slide along her parted lips and delve into her mouth, exploring, caressing. Shattered, she pushed one arm up around his neck and kissed him back while her free hand clung to his velvet mantle like a drowning woman to a rope.

He drew back at last, staring at her from eyes so dark they looked opaque. “Now it’s changed,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, it’s all changed.”

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CHANGING ROOM by Veronica Tower

CHANGING ROOM by Veronica Tower

Playtime Series Book 3

On their tenth wedding anniversary, Edie and Jack vowed to reinvigorate their sex life and save their marriage through randomly selected fantasies. They’ve each had a turn but now the games are escalating, and Edie and Jack are growing bolder.

 Edie’s always wanted Jack to pay a little more personal attention to her. Acting as her personal shopper—picking out clothes to mold her curves, skimming his hands along her skin to check fit—should provide ample opportunity for him to pay attention to every tiny detail. Best of all, they don’t even have to leave the house, or her closet, for the fantasy. But Jack won’t settle for anything less than authentic. Edie better brace herself for Jack’s very personal, and very public, attention.

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Excerpt:

 

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

An Excerpt From: CHANGING ROOM
Copyright © VERONICA TOWER, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Why don’t we give it a look?” Jack suggested. “If it’s really crowded, we’ll call it off. But I phoned in sick and we got here at,” he paused to check the clock on his phone, “ten in the morning because we want to make the backdrop of these fantasies as real as possible.” He coaxed her with a teasing grin. “You set the precedent with your streetwalker role and you’re always telling me I should listen to you more.”

Edie grimaced, not picking up on his humor at all. She was a beautiful, thirty year old African-American woman with long black hair and a damn good figure. He could still see in her the high school cheerleader he’d fallen in love with in Algebra class, but she’d matured into someone even more attractive. That soft, fresh bloom of youth had evolved into a natural, sensuous maturity. He could see it in her cheekbones, the line of her jaw and the light that brightened her eyes when she found something funny. He’d lost sight of that beauty too often over the past few years and he was really enjoying discovering it again.

“I don’t know, Jack,” Edie told him. “We almost got arrested the first time, and you could have lost your job if we’d gotten caught during our second fantasy.”

True, but since they’d gotten away with it both times, he didn’t find the argument convincing. He and Edie had been having a tough time these last few years and their physical relationship had gone from bad to non-existent. Then their marriage counselor, Dr. Phelps, had come up with this unique way to get them sleeping with each other again. She’d suggested that each of them write down three sexual fantasies on slips of paper and then draw one per week and act them out together. Jack had been highly skeptical, but willing to try anything if it let him start fucking his wife again. To his surprise the results of their first two experiments had been mind blowing and he really wanted to try it again.
“The worse that can happen here is that we get thrown out of the store,” Jack assured her. “And we chose a place that you don’t shop in anyway.”

A young mother pushed an infant in a stroller past them and Jack opened the heavy glass door for her. She thanked him as she maneuvered past.

Jack wanted to continue his conversation with Edie, but like most big stores, Grayson’s had a second set of glass doors to navigate right after the first. He slipped inside and held that one as well so the woman could push her stroller into the store.

Edie joined him in the little vestibule between the two sets of doors. “What if you’re wrong? What if they catch us and they do call the cops?”

Jack had to admit to himself that a 911 call was a potential problem. He didn’t think it was likely to happen, but it worried him just the same. If he admitted it to Edie, however, the whole game would be over before it began. “And why would they do that? Do you think they want this kind of publicity?”

“But what if they do?” Edie asked. Until this moment, Jack hadn’t realized just how nervous she was. He should have seen it right away. Chewing on her lip was a dead giveaway and she’d been chowing down on the scrumptious piece of flesh all morning.

He took her hands in his and caressed the backs of her fingers with his thumbs. “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can head back home and play dress up in the living room. Or rethink the whole fantasy and come up with a better way to make it happen. I’m doing this today for you. If you’re not comfortable with my idea, then I’m not doing it right.”

Edie’s whole demeanor changed. The tension eased out of her shoulders and she appeared to breathe more easily.

Jack acted fast to preempt his wife from accepting his spontaneous offer. “Of course, it won’t be as much fun if we do it at home. Do you remember how shocked we were when that real streetwalker propositioned us?”

Edie chuckled. “The look on your face when she tried to join our party was priceless—not that I think that’s an argument for playing out game outside the house.”

Jack decided to ignore the second half of our statement. “The look on my face? What about yours? I thought you thought I might actually accept her offer.”

Edie’s chuckle grew into an actual laugh. “If you had they would have needed the police to pull me off of you.”

Jack laughed with her. “It still made the whole thing hot though. I mean, talk about your realism. You don’t get that at home.”

“No you don’t, but you also don’t get college kids almost catching us,” Edie told him. The mischievous smile on her face reassured Jack.

Before he could answer, she gave in and pulled open the inner door. “Oh hell, we’ll try it, but I think you should know I’m onto you. You’re getting off on the risk as much as you’re getting off on me.”

“Me?” Jack asked as he hurried to follow after her. “I seem to recall you enjoying some pretty climactic orgasms at my little makeshift spa. My shoulder still has a bruise on it where you bit me.”

“Shush!” Edie snapped with a quick look back at him. “If anyone overhears you, we won’t be able to do our thing.”

She picked up her pace, fingers tightening on her purse and began to search the aisles for the women’s clothing section.

Jack knew how to read the telltale signs. Edie was as excited by the risk of discovery as he was.

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BELLA KEY by Scarlet Chastain

BELLA KEY by Scarlet Chastain

Maddie Jacobs must be crazy. At least that’s what her mother thinks. Professionally, she’s confident and secure; personally, she’s a hot mess. Not even a marriage proposal from a man who adores her can quell her search for something more.

In need of an escape, Maddie flees to Key West’s most southern island, Bella Key, to rest and recharge at Casa Bonita. She almost gives up on weekend retreat when the Bed & Breakfast is closed for repairs until Sunny Rojas, the inn owner, extends an offer of friendship, sweet tea and a room. Still reeling from a breakup with her longtime partner, Sunny is thankful for the diversion from her own broken heart.

The arrival of a fierce storm forces the women’s emotional journey to a head and leads them into each other’s arms. But can Maddie throw her hangups to the wind and go with her heart? The magic of Bella Key teaches her that passion cannot be placed neatly into boxes labeled right and wrong, because love knows no boundaries.

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Excerpt:

 

“Good shower?”

Maddie stopped in the doorway, holding the knot of her towel to her chest. Wet strands of hair produced rivulets of water streaming down her shoulders and chest. “Like a new woman. Although, my northern skin can’t handle the tropical sun. Look at my shoulders!” Sunny’s gaze moved from one shoulder to another. Maddie was right, she was more than sun-kissed. Her shoulders practically glowed. “Oh, chica. That’s an angry burn you have there. I have some aloe —” Sunny picked up and put down five different bottles from her dressing table. “—ah, here it is. This’ll ease the pain and cut down on the peeling, too.”

Sunny flipped the top and squeezed a quarter-sized dab of the green gel into her palm. She nodded toward her bed, signaling Maddie to sit. Rubbing the aloe between her palms, she rested one knee on the bed beside her. Maddie gathered her wet hair and flipped it over her shoulder to allow Sunny access to the other. Her body shivered under Sunny’s hands.

“Sorry, this stuff’s cold. I tried to warm it up a little.”

Maddie closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. “It’s not that. It feels good on the burn. You have a gentle touch.”

Sunny chuckled. “Scooch over a little so I can get your other side.”

Maddie shifted, lifting her feet onto the bed and tucking them under her legs Indian style. Sunny guided her head forward and massaged the aloe along the base of her neck to her shoulder blades, and down to the edge of the fluffy towel. She bent her knee, providing an anchor for Maddie to lean upon. Her inner thighs grazed the thick towel. Sunny closed her eyes and focused not only on Maddie’s sunburned skin, but also on loosening the muscles along her shoulders and upper back.

“I have a confession to make,” Maddie said quietly.

“Other than this is the best massage you’ve ever received?” Sunny snorted.

“Mmm. That too. I-I watched you last night.” Maddie went a few seconds without taking a breath.

Sunny didn’t waver. “I know you did. You were outside of my door.”

“You knew? Why didn’t you stop or say something?” Maddie kept her eyes closed but turned her head toward Sunny as she spoke.

Sunny added another dab of aloe to her palm. “I liked that you were watching me. It turned me on that you enjoyed it too.”

“Never in my life had I thought I’d be attracted, you know, sexually to a woman. It’s different with you. Many things are different with you.” Maddie’s hand trembled as she touched Sunny’s leg, tracing an imaginary line up and down her calf. The rapid rise and fall of Maddie’s back matched the pounding in Sunny’s chest.

Silence filled the room. Sunny had decided against bringing up the episode from the night before unless Maddie did. Now that it was out in the open, Sunny could find out how Maddie felt for sure. “Different, how?”

“You make me feel so focused and honest and alive. I’ve never had that with anyone else before.” Maddie turned and kneeled in front of Sunny. “Would it be forward if I asked you to kiss me?”

Sunny swallowed hard. “Yes, but I like forward,” she whispered as she cupped Maddie’s face with her palms. Dragging her thumb over Maddie’s bottom lip she realized how many times she wanted to taste her lips and explore her mouth over the past two days. Sunny lowered her face and brushed her lips once over Maddie’s. She drew back to study Maddie’s reaction.

“Again,” Maddie whispered, her eyes remained closed.

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TRUE by Erin McCarthy

TRUE by Erin McCarthy

 

“A New Adult winner for sure.” -Elissa Petruzzi, RT Book Reviews

 

Awkward girl meets scorching-hot boy…

 

When Rory Macintosh’s roommates find out that their studious and shy friend has never been with a guy, they decide that, as an act of kindness they’ll help her lose her virginity by hiring confident, tattooed bad boy Tyler Mann to do the job…unbeknownst to Rory.

 

Tyler knows he’s not good enough for Rory. She’s smart, doctor smart, while he’s barely scraping by at his EMT program, hoping to pull his younger brothers out of the hell their druggy mother has left them in. But he can’t resist taking up her roommates on an opportunity to get to know her better. There’s something about her honesty keeps him coming back when he knows he shouldn’t…

 

Torn between common sense and desire, the two find themselves caught up in a passionate relationship. But when Tyler’s broken family threatens to destroy his future, and hers, Rory will need to decide whether to cut her ties to his risky world or follow her heart, no matter what the cost…  

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~Excerpt~

That was when I realized that was why I’d always been slightly nervous around Tyler.  He was what people always accused me of being- there but not present.  Easy going, but distant.  Smiling, but intense.  Maybe it was the alcohol, my ears still buzzing, my insides hot but my skin cold and clammy, but for the first time I didn’t feel uncomfortable around him.

“So are you really a virgin?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.  “Or were you just saying that?”

No longer comfortable.  It went away faster than you could say Awkward Moment.

Why he thought I would want to talk about that made no sense to me at all.  I was drunk, but I wasn’t insane.  If I hadn’t even told my roommates until that night, why the hell would I sit in Tyler’s car and spill my guts?  I wasn’t the confessional type.  I never had been.

So I just looked at him.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

I wanted to tell him to mind his own goddamn business. To stop pressing a girl he didn’t know for intimate details about her sexual experience. That it was rude. But I remembered that he had in fact saved the very virginity he was questioning, so I didn’t want to be a bitch. I just shrugged. Really, what difference did it make? I was already a collegiate abnormality. Likes to study! Hates to Talk! Won’t go tanning! See this freak show exhibit in her natural dorm habitat…

But I actually surprised myself by opening my mouth and saying, “Yes, I am.”

My admission silenced him for a second, but then he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel as he put the car in PARK in front of my dorm, which was a seventies built tower of glass and steel, the lamp post flooding into his car, showing even more clearly how dirty and ancient it was, a slot for a cassette player crammed full of what looked like parking tickets.

“Do you have a purity ring or whatever?”

Now that I was in, and the beer had loosened my lips, I said the first thing that came into my head.  “I prefer to call it my hymen.”

Tyler let out a laugh.  “No, I mean one of those rings you wear on your finger…”  He looked at me, understanding dawning.  “Oh, wait, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

Which made him laugh harder.  “Rory, you are an interesting chick.”

Interesting wasn’t exactly a riveting compliment, but he hadn’t called me a freak, which was how I felt sometimes.  Like I had been assembled in a different way altogether than everyone around me, and while I liked the end result, everyone else was confused as to how to interpret my very existence.
They watched me, suspicious, as if I were a Transformer and they were waiting for metal arms to spring out from my chest cavity.

I didn’t think that I’d ever seen him laugh before, or maybe I had just never noticed, my attention focused on Grant, who I had thought was more likely to fall in with my plan of exploring human mating and relationships.  But then again, Jessica and Kylie tended to dominate all conversation in a group setting, so maybe their own perfectly affected laughter had drowned out Tyler’s.

But for some stupid reason, I liked to think that he was laughing just for me.

Which was when I knew I was even more drunk than I realized and I needed to get away from him before I sat there blinking at him like a baby owl indefinitely.  Before I put some sort of hero worship onto him that he might deserve, but which didn’t mean a damn thing.  Before I substituted one pointless crush out for another. 

 

I shoved open the door, half falling out, clinging to the handle and the remnants of my dignity, like he could hear my stupid thoughts.  “Thanks,” I said over my shoulder, barely glancing back as I exited the car, clutching my bag.

There was no response and when I struggled to slam the heavy door, which seemed to weigh a million pounds and required more coordination than my icy fingers had, I realized that he was just staring at me.  There was a cigarette in his mouth, and he was lifting the car lighter up to it, his hand guiding it to his destination without thought.  As he sucked on it to catch the paper and tobacco on fire, his eyes never left mine.

The smile was gone.  There was nothing but a cool scrutiny.

I shivered.

Then I walked as fast as I could to my dorm, digging in my bag for my swipe card.

Once inside, I paused at the front desk to check in and I glanced out the front doors.

His car was still there, and I could see the shadow of his outline, the tiny red glow of his cigarette.

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LEONARDO by Melissa Schroeder

LEONARDO by Melissa Schroeder

The Santinis Book One

Leo Santini is a man who always has a plan. It is the way to live a well-ordered life. He never planned on dealing with the hardheaded physical therapist who is taking care of his friend. He definitely never planned on being so totally infatuated with her.

Maryanne Johnson doesn't have time for a romance—especially with a military man. Sure, Leo is drop dead sexy, but more than one man in a uniform had hurt her before. Unfortunately, she can't seem to resist him or his kisses. It doesn't help that the man is as sweet as he is sexy. Falling for him is easy, but she does her best to keep herself from admitting it to him.

Leo knows she wants to keep things simple but when a Santini is in love nothing will stop him from achieving his goal—even the hardheaded woman he loves.

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Excerpt:

 

Once Vince stepped through the doorway though, Leo shut the door and grabbed her by the wrist pulling her to him, then crowded her up against the door. Before she could tell him to get his hands off her—and she was so totally going to do that, really—he slammed his mouth down on hers.

Her brain fizzled. Just right there, stopped working. She couldn't seem to do anything but to kiss him back. Every other thought dissolved and the primal instinct to connect took over. Heat bloomed within her, pulsing through her veins. In that one instant she went from sort of frustrated to wanting to tear off his clothes. When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily.

“Just so you know which Santini is really interested.” He swooped in for another quick kiss. “God, you taste good.”

From the need she heard in his voice, she was sure he would kiss her again, but with a sigh, he stepped back.

“Thank you for dinner.” He kept looking at her and she didn't know what to say. That steady gaze had her heart smacking against her chest. What did you say to a man who fizzled your brain like that?

“Maryanne?”

“What?”

He offered her a gentle smile that almost undid her. “I can't open the door with you standing in front of it.”

“Oh.” Her face heated as she stepped aside. He opened the door and paused.

“I would love to take you out tomorrow.” She was formulating her excuses, when he continued. “But, my brother is only here for another day. How about next Friday?”

“You're asking me out?”

She didn't mean to shout the question but this was bad. Worse, she wanted to say yes, Yes, YES.

Oh, god.

“I thought we should explore this...thing.”

“Thing?” Great. She sounded like an idiot.

“How about we call it breaking even? You made me dinner. I'll take you out for dinner.”

She should say no. A man like Santini had heartbreak written all over him, but she could only say, “Okay.”

He smiled as if she had given him some kind of gift.

“Good night, Maryanne.”

Then he slipped out the door.

“You need to lock the door, Maryanne,” he said through the door.

“You’re not my keeper.”

But she did lock it.

“Goodnight.”

She said nothing and leaned back against the door. The man was dangerous. Big time dangerous. Like get her into all kinds of trouble dangerous. And dammit, that excited her even more.

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PLEASE STOP FILMING by Veronica Tower

PLEASE STOP FILMING by Veronica Tower

April has a problem. Her boyfriend, Mark, has developed a new hobby – setting up a video camera to record them in the bedroom – and he’s not taking no for an answer. The more that April resists and complains, the more certain Mark becomes that she is the one with the problem – that she is the one refusing to be supportive.

Desperate for a return to some normalcy in their relationship, April agrees to make a single movie, never dreaming that Mark would take this as permission to invite a stranger into their home to operate the camera. Will there be no end to Mark’s madness? Will anything induce him to Please Stop Filming?

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~Excerpt~

They had another fight about Mark’s camera at the breakfast table the next morning.

“You know the problem wasn’t only because we moved further down the couch,” Mark said.

“What?”

“Even before we moved,” Mark explained, “the camera was missing a lot of our action.”

April sighed and suppressed the desire to say something crude and emasculating.

Mark didn’t seem to notice her restraint. “You were doing some incredible things to my cock and the camera missed a lot of it. The same things happened when I mounted you from behind. You are beautiful and I know that scene was hot, but that doesn’t shine through the way I think it should have. I’m going to have to give this some thought.”

“Perhaps,” April chose her words very carefully. “You should think about giving up the camera or at least putting it away for a while.”

“What?” Mark asked. It was painfully obvious that this idea had never occurred to him.

“Look what’s happening to us, Mark. Two weeks without sex and then that debacle in bed last night.”

Mark spoke past a mouthful of Cheerios. “Those two weeks were your fault. I was trying to fuck you the entire time.”

April felt her temperature rising but she managed to keep control of herself. “I was eager to have sex too—just not in front of your camera. You weren’t willing to compromise on that.”

“And neither were you,” Mark reminded her.

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ROWENA AND THE DARK LORD by Melodie Campbell

ROWENA AND THE DARK LORD by Melodie Campbell

Land's End Series Book Two

Dark magic…dark passions…

When Rowena is abducted from Arizona and taken back to medieval Land’s End, one thing is clear: she must learn to control her powers of magic. It isn't easy being a modern girl in an archaic land, and when Rowena accidentally conjures up a Roman Legion in mid-battle, Land's End is on the brink of a war that could jeopardize everything and everyone she loves.

The stakes are raised when the Dark Lord reappears and traps Rowena in a cyclone of lust and passion. Once again she is torn between the man she loves and the mage who fires her desire.

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Is that a broadsword on your belt, or are you just glad to see me?

 

“Hot and hilarious!”

“A fantastical tour de force”

“The Princess Bride with Sex”“

 

Excerpt from ROWENA AND THE DARK LORD, book 2 in the Land’s End fantasy series:

 

I rose to my feet and turned to the east as the spell book instructed.

“What is she doing?”

Lars’s voice. What was he doing here?

I chanted the words from the book in my hand, silently, beneath my breath. Then I chanted them once more, louder and with confidence. My voice became richer, louder, resonating in my ears.

Whoosh. The ground trembled. The air in front of us seemed to swirl, clouding my view of the field ahead. A grey mist rose from the ground, thick with dust or soot, obliterating all vision.

I stood rock still, hardly able to breathe.

The mist swirled. I heard men yelling—coarse shouts over the ring of steel on steel, then an eerie silence. It put chills up my spine. Lars muttered something at my side. Gareth stood stock still. Loki moved up against me. We waited.

Men’s voices again, echoing like souls lost in a fog. The mist lifted in one swift movement to disappear into nothingness. In its place, were at least a hundred men.

Bugger. I messed up.

“Houston, we have a problem,” I said out loud. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I must have pronounced one of the spell words wrong.

“Who is Houston?” Lars said.

“Romans!” Gareth hissed. He drew his sword.

“Romans?” I stared at the battle-scarred men before us. They looked exhausted. They also looked bloody, dirty and rather short. Not to mention confused.

How the heck could they be Romans?

Someone yelled “Form Square!” in—yup—that was Latin.

“What the hell?” I stared. The men came to life moving with purpose into a square. Within seconds we were facing a shield wall bristling with spears.

Gareth and Lars already had their swords drawn. They tried to move in front of me but I spread my arms to hold them back.

“Sheath your weapons,” I commanded.

They hesitated, eyeing the wall of men and knives.

“For crissake,” I insisted, “what do you expect to do against that, besides get us all killed?”

With reluctance the swords slid back into their scabbards.

The man on the horse wore a breastplate the sort of armor that you only saw in museums back home. Or movies. I was reminded of Cleopatra starring Elizabeth Taylor. Richard Burton playing the part of Marc Antony.

Hoo boy.

The man on horseback stared at me. No stirrups on his saddle. A helmet that was in history books. Definitely Roman. I stared back at him.

Romans? In this time? What the poop had I done?

“It’s a freaking temporal rift!” My laugh was strident. “Where the hell is Spock when you need him?”

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Melodie Campbell achieved a personal best this year when Library Journal compared her to Janet Evanovich.  She has over 200 publications, including 100 comedy credits, 40 short stories, and 4 novels. She has won 6 awards for fiction. 

www.melodiecampbell.com       www.funnygirlmelodie.blogspot.ca

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