Untraceable is the second book in my World of Danger series.
The past never really goes away. These men will risk everything to keep the women they love out of harm’s way.
Book One: Invincible
Book Two: Untraceable (new release)
Book Three: Reckless (out 2020).
Mae Sawyer has a huge crush on her boss, JD Harlan, but he doesn’t even know she exists. She blends into the background of her data entry job, living for glimpses of him walking through the office. Then one night, everything changes. While working late, she’s caught up in a plot to kidnap him…and gets taken as well.
They wake up in an underground bunker. No electricity. No way to be traced. Alone, they have to rely on each other to stay strong until their captor decides their fate. Danger lurks outside the bunker, waiting for a moment of vengeance.
Excerpt:
“Oh my,” she whispered, her mouth going dry and her panties going wet.
Mae sucked in a deep, ragged breath as her eyes followed his lithe walk. She couldn’t help but drool a little over the exceptionally toned physique. The chest and shoulders of chiseled marble. The narrow waist tapered down into thighs that flexed hard muscle with every step and a perfect, rock-hard ass. A quiver fluttered in her belly as her usual daydream of him exploded in her head—running her hands over every square inch of the perfect hunk, her tongue lapping over every plane of delicious skin. Her imagination shocked even herself, although she had no illusions that Joseph David Harlan the Second even knew she existed.
Then something amazing happened. He turned and looked at her. After a year of ogling him, of having steamy dreams about him that always left her panties soaked, he turned his head and finally took notice of her. She blinked and sat up straight, her heart thundering so badly in her chest she thought she might be having a heart attack. Those beautiful royal-blue eyes met hers, held her gaze, and did a quick look over her features before turning away. She almost melted in a puddle of goo.
He greeted two men who stood near the reception desk and shook their hands. As he led them toward the door to the back offices, she was unable to tear her eyes away, urging him to look at her again. But he either didn’t pick up her mental coaxing or had decided she wasn’t worth a second look because he didn’t glance in her direction again. Instead, he typed in the code that opened the opaque security door and gestured for the two men to enter before he followed after them. Breath swooshed back into her lungs.
“You better calm down,” said her co-worker, Renee Hammond, who sat in the cubicle next to hers.
Mae fanned herself. “Hunky Harlan should be labeled a lethal weapon.”
She relaxed back into her chair, a fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Her knees knocked together, an after-effect of her crazy infatuation. His mere presence reduced her to a pile of quivering female hormones and she could only imagine what he’d do to her if there was ever a chance he’d talk to her.
I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers. I try to write characters who aren’t cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love. I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on the web:
Gorgeous, businessman, Saxon Dearing buys a pied de terre in the city where he works. Only using the place on three nights, he goes home to his beachside house for the rest of the week. At thirty-two, immersed in his work, he doesn’t know he’s lonely until delicious, twenty-five year old Jon Palmer literally drops into his life during a thunderstorm.
Artist Jon struggles to sell his paintings from a tiny studio, and works in a city gallery to pay his rent. As the two men fall in love, Jon can’t overcome the idea his lack of success is a barrier to telling handsome, wealthy Saxon how he feels.
When his boss offers him a dangerous way of making money, Jon must make a choice.
Will he risk telling Saxon he loves him or let his lack of confidence lead him astray and away from the man who loves him, too?
Today we welcome, Saxon Dearing one of the heroes
I’ll make this interview fun…
Saxon, If you were a dessert, what would you be?
(Laughs) A dessert … well I know Jon likes ginger cookies, but that’s not really a dessert, huh? Okay I know, lemon meringue pie, yeah.
What do you do when you need to blow off steam?
If I’m in the city I go to the gym and beat the crap out of a punch bag. If I’m at the beach house, I run on the beach, although I do keep to the wet sand and I like to wear my iPod
What do you look for in a man?
Nothing now I’ve met Jon. He’s perfect for me. I love him. He’s intelligent, creative, good-looking, sexy, sweet … I could go on all day about him.
What is in your refrigerator right now?
In the city, steak, lettuce, cherry tomatoes … a half pack of beer, what else … a red pepper. There’s not that much because Jon and I are going up to the beach house tonight.
What’s on your bedroom floor?
In the city, my old baseball bat, that’s under the bed.
What do you wear in bed?
Depends what I’m doing (smiles) so it ranges from a t-shirt and boxers to nothing … (smiles again) mostly nothing now
Light on or off?
Either, both
Chocolate or vanilla?
Is that for licking off Jon’s abs? Has to be chocolate.
What’s your biggest fear?
Oh, well, I have to think about that for a second. I could say spiders or losing on the stock market but truth is it’s losing Jon’s love. It would break my heart.
What is your most treasured possession?
After the last question … Jon’s not my possession but I treasure him. If it has to be a possession, then it’s a drawing Jon gave me … he’s an artist.
What’s your favorite outfit?
I have some old faded levis and beaten up leather boots that I rely on when I’m not in suits. I usually throw on a t-shirt and my battered leather jacket over the top. I have to wear suits for work. I like my black one best.
What do you like to see Jon dressed in?
Anything he likes, (his eyes mist a little) although I do like him in the tux he wore for our wedding, and in his ripped jeans, because there’s a frayed bit high on his thigh…
Do you have a favorite music track?
My taste and surprisingly Jon’s too, is eclectic. We’re listening to old Coldplay stuff right now … love them.
Tell the readers something you’ve never told anyone before.
(Grins) What? You mean spill a secret? You do. (Takes a deep breath) I have nothing for you, nope not a thing…
We’ll make that the last question. Thanks for visiting. Where are you off to next?
(Smiles) You know that’s another question, right?
We have a story teaser for you from, Like a Thief in the Night
Jon struggled into a sitting position. “What time is it?”
Saxon shook his head. “I don’t know, but maybe nine or ten.” Saxon sat up.
“Hell, not ten please.” Jon leaped from the bed and dashed to his backpack where he snatched a smartphone from the front zipper pocket. He ran his hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. It stood on end at the front. He cast a glance at Saxon. “It’s nine. I start at nine-thirty. I’m sorry, I have to dash.”
“It’s okay. Will I make you a coffee while you dress?”
“Thanks for thinking of me, but I’ll make a cup at the gallery.” He ran into the bathroom and came out moments later in the jeans and sweater Saxon had seen him wearing the night before. He dropped a pair of boots to the floor and zipped up his fly as he pushed bare feet into them.
Saxon gazed at the spectacle. He got out of bed and walked rapidly to the kitchen remembering Jon’s jacket was draped over the back of a chair. He brought it to Jon.
Jon rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you. Is it okay to leave my pajamas in the bathroom?” He slipped his jacket on and grabbed up his backpack.
To Saxon’s surprise and delight, Jon kissed him by the side of his mouth.
“See you tonight. Thank you so much.” He strode to the door, opened it, and left.
Saxon went to the bathroom and picked up Jon’s pajamas. He hung them from a hook on the door and dragged on his robe from the other hook. Jon’s socks lay in a damp bunch on the floor next to the shelf housing towels. His boots must leak. Concern furrowed his brow. He put the socks in the laundry hamper. They can go in the wash. I’ll get coffee first. I’ve missed early trading. Perhaps it doesn’t matter this once. Saxon hummed as he heaped coffee grains into the filter. An unfamiliar deep happiness bubbled in him.
Copyright E. D. Parr 2019, Evernight Publishing
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Thank you for having us on your blog today! We’re so excited to share the release of the second book in our Project Mars series, Future, Betrayed. For a quick idea about the series, check out this trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HU_Gcf7c5Fs
A little more about the book
Book 2 – Future, Betrayed – Available August 1, 2019 – a Project Mars story – futuristic, sci-fi, romance series by best-selling authors Jacey Holbrand & Elizabeth Monvey | Genre: futuristic, sci-fi, Alternative (MM), MPREG, Romance | Heat Level: 3 | Word Count: 35,000 | ISBN: 978-0-3695-0008-3 | Editor: Karyn White | Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Blurb
In the future, be careful who you trust.
Ben Stockton lives on a dying Earth. A poisoned atmosphere and fertility issues are a few reasons people flock to the Project Mars Lottery, hoping to win a chance to go to the Red Planet. When his husband, Dain, is targeted as a potential DNA donor, the once exciting prospect of starting over turns into a nightmare.
Forced to work for the governmental scientific agency, Sector, Dain is sent to Mars while Ben has to remain behind. Separated from each other, they try to cling to the memories of their love as well as the hope that one day they’ll be reunited.
But Sector has different plans for the couple. Unbeknownst to Ben, Sector has used him as a test subject in a desperate bid to cure the sterility problems facing the human race. Impregnated and left alone, Ben stumbles upon the underground resistance. It will take all his strength to find the love of his life before Dain is lost to him forever.
Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world.Jacey loves to hear from readers!
Elizabeth Monveyis the pseudonym for a single mother from Los Angeles. She writes manlove stories, where the hero meets the man of his dreams because happily ever after is one of her favorite things.
Lissa prefers reading to cutting loose, but is willing to do whatever it takes to get the juiciest assignments for her job at a major travel magazine. Her chance finally arrives. She’s set to experience a posh Caribbean resort, a dream article and review except for one huge problem. It’s the anything goes theme week where nudity is expected and lusty hook-ups make threesomes look downright tame. Holy Hell. What has she gotten herself into?
Precisely what resort owner Jon Thorne thinks. Tall, dark, and luscious, he fears the randy male guests will eat her alive, resulting in a lousy review. His only option is to serve as her guide for every decadent delight from nude body painting to Dom’s Den where submission and punishment rule. Unless she wants to call the whole thing off…
And lose her chance with him, plus give up this gig? Dream on. Tempted beyond anything she’s known, she matches his passion and then some, surprising him during a sexy adventure like no other.
Shelby entered first, model tall and slender, dressed in a light green sheath that complemented her long, blonde hair. Her pretty face could have graced a teen magazine, the faint freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks adding to her youthful appearance.
She stepped aside.
A young woman stood behind her, her hair shoulder-length and partially pulled back. Several tresses hung free from her ponytail. The chestnut color proved rich, a contradiction to her pale complexion.
While her clothing…
Her loose-fitting beige pants and long-sleeved white top weren’t on par with the “anything goes” theme week, but the extensive material didn’t completely hide her curves.
He dragged his gaze back up to her glasses. They gave her an intelligent and serious vibe that also didn’t belong on this island.
She regarded the tan marble and gold trimming in here, graceful eyebrows arching.
The opulence was more than he preferred but impressed the partners. Confused as to why she’d followed Shelby inside, he glanced at her and mouthed, “who is she?”
She mouthed, “The writer.”
No way. He’d expected a guy. In fact, he needed an uber-extroverted one for a great review during the anything goes week, which got down and dirty fast. Not a woman who dressed like a librarian attending a spiritual retreat.
As a rule, he never judged. Taking a second look, he was surprised to find her pretty, her brown or hazel eyes and pouty mouth holding promise as to the possible fire smoldering inside. Possible being the operative word. She hadn’t breezed into here confident and ready for sin. Not a good sign for her enjoying the intimate events at the resort.
Shelby cleared her throat. “Lissa, this is Jon Thorne, the owner. Jon, this is Lissa Nelms, the writer from Exploration magazine.”
Lissa regarded the plush leather chairs, sofa, and his massive desk, then met his gaze.
Her cheeks pinked up, as they hadn’t earlier, lips parting, surprise or wonder flooding her features.
He wasn’t certain why her reaction to him was so intense … except it looked genuine. Maybe. Ever since Mackenzie had put one over on him, after the years they’d spent together, he couldn’t be sure about anything. Remembering his manners, he stood.
After taking him in from top to bottom, Lissa returned to his mouth, then his eyes. “Good afternoon.”
Her voice was surprisingly throaty. Sexy as hell.
His face and chest heated, a first during a business meeting or with any woman. Even those who’d been attracted to him hadn’t shown the same awe she did. Flattering, sure, but still… “Hi.” He rounded his desk and offered his hand.
She gripped it firmly, her fingers softer than a rose petal, her fragrance subtly sweet, gold flecks in her hazel eyes.
Nice. He stroked her thumb.
Her face flamed.
Time to stop touching her.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly,Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novelswere Readers’ Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition.Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.
When Kathleen and Carter meet, it’s intrigue at first sight, and they awaken from emotional exile. A turn of events finds her spontaneously joining him on his working ranch. Despite being really hard work, she’s blissfully happy—and the fringe benefits aren’t too shabby either.
Carter can’t believe his luck. He desperately needed a housekeeper, not that he welcomed this amazing woman into his home for that reason. He can cope with her bond with her daughter, no matter how it forces him to remember his lost young son. And he can’t give her his heart, but what he can give is surely enough.
In love with this amazing man, Kate ignores that Carter withholds, believing he’ll change, and she’s willing to wait. When she inadvertently discovers he was angling for a housekeeper all along, it knocks her blinders off.
She’s done waiting. She deserves more—and so does he.
“I think I’m good. I should probably get to bed,” she said. “What time do you get up?”
“Early. And I head out straight away. You stay in bed until you’re ready to face the day. I’ll leave you my cell number, and you text me. I’ll head back.”
“I’m an early riser too.”
“Five o’clock for me tomorrow, Kathleen.”
“Oh, maybe not. I’ll text you.”
He pulled out his cell. “What’s your number?”
With the exchange complete, he lurked in the doorway. “The bathroom is across the hall. Towels in the cabinet.”
“Great, thanks. I’ve got everything I need.”
Did she? So near and yet so far, she hovered there like a wood sprite. When she stooped to slip the strap off her shoe, then the other and stepped out of the heels, he found he’d closed the gap.
“Kathleen.”
She looked up, having lost a slight difference in height, and her eyes flared green, the pupils dilating. A good night kiss, then. A peck. He reached out and with only tacit permission lowered his mouth over hers.
On a startled gasp, her lips parted, and he took advantage, yet maintained control, alert to any distress. It separated him into distinct parts that soon melded when she pressed into him, her arms wreathing around his neck.
He learned her, her taste and texture, reveling in her response, swallowing her tiny moans. When he pulled away to breathe, resting his forehead against hers, she sagged in his arms and he kept her steady.
His heart pounded in tandem with hers, and he was so hard he hurt. She shivered, and he said, “Do I need to apologize? Because it’ll be difficult.”
In a whisper, she said, “No need. I’m just sorry I’m so out of practice.”
“If you’re out of practice, I hope to kiss you when you’re at your best.”
Tipping her head back, she met his eyes before glancing away. “I don’t do this on a first date. I don’t date. Lord.”
He eased his body away from hers, regretting that he’d encroached on her personal space. She tugged him back. “But I want to. I want you. If that makes me a—”
He stopped her with a hard kiss. “Don’t. Don’t make this a bad thing.”
Her lips twitched in a tremulous smile. “I don’t want to overthink it.”
“I’ll take care of you,” he promised.
He lost his Stetson and shrugged out of his jacket, bemoaning any inability to keep a hand on her as she tugged a zipper hidden in a side seam of her dress and let it slither down the length of her body to pool at her feet.
His fingers froze on the snaps of his shirt as he took in the sight of her in scraps of pink lace and honest-to-God thigh-high stockings. With a dry mouth, he wrenched the placket apart and threw the shirt to one side, gathering her to him, nuzzling the hollow at the base of her neck and then down to the tops of her breasts.
“You’re stunning.”
She arched into him, and he fumbled with the clasp and freed those gorgeous mounds that tumbled into his waiting hands. Soft skin tipped with beaded nipples he desperately wanted to get his mouth on. And her sultry scent…
His belt buckle pressed into her belly, and he made one hand abandon its prize and yank open the offending metal, dealing with the button and zipper while he was at it. His cock breathed a sigh of relief—he swore it—as his mouth found its target.
“God, Carter.” She pushed into him, and he sucked harder, gently using his teeth against the tip.
Her hands found his hips and pushed his jeans down, dragging his boxer briefs with them. The sensation of her fingers on his ass made him groan, his pelvis thrusting, his cock against her center. At this rate, he’d disgrace himself.
When she sought him out, he turned with her, hobbled by his own jeans, the ignominy nearly making him smile as he held her against the wall. “Touch me, darlin’, and I’ll lose it all over your sweet hand.”
“Out of practice, too,” she teased, her hair awry and her mouth swollen. “I’m so ready, Carter.”
He worked his hand beneath her panties, staring into her eyes, soaking in the pleasure sparking there when he found her apex, full and wet. “You are.”
Still, he played at her entrance, then feathered over the knot above, making her rise on her toes and whimper. “Please.”
It took some awkward gymnastics to get a hand into his jeans’ pocket and lift his wallet, all while stroking her, but he managed it. Somehow got the condom out and open and smoothed on.
Pushing aside the fabric guarding her pussy, he bent his knees a fraction and set his cock at her opening. With a single thrust, he filled her, freezing in place as they both adjusted. She was wet but so fucking tight. She’d said she didn’t do this, didn’t date. Christ. How long had it been?
“You okay?” he rasped, willing her to open her eyes.
As if on cue, her lashes fluttered open, and he drowned in the depths behind them. Urgent need enticed him, and he responded, easing out and pushing back in. Heated, wet satin sucked at him as he powered toward orgasm, knowing it wouldn’t be long.
But he wasn’t getting there alone. Watching her for any signs, doing his best to ignore the pull at the base of his spine, he found her sweet spot and swiveled his hips to take her there. She responded by working herself against him, her breath increasing in shallow pants as she crested.
With a short cry, she tensed and clamped on him, shuddering, her head grinding against the wall. There was no resisting her, and he followed her over, emptying himself. He set his teeth on the top of her shoulder and muffled his groan, then kissed the spot reverently.
About the Author:
Allyson Young aka Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada where she and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.
She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a post-apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance by Peribeth.
A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid, and a coauthor, as of November 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.
What happens when the curse goes wrong, but the outcome is all right?
Ryan Rourke wasn’t looking for love when he sat at the foot of the statue, Michael Emerging. The inanimate object listens and he could swear there’s someone beneath the granite. One night he gives into his desire and kisses the statue. It won’t hurt anything, right? It’s just a granite statue—except there’s a soul in the cold rock.
Indio fell in love with Ryan the moment the shy college junior spoke to him the first time. The tenderness, warmth, and sense of humor were everything Indio wanted—if he weren’t trapped in granite. The attraction is stronger than he ever thought possible. Can Ryan’s kiss free him forever? Or will the power of Zeus and the majesty of the curse be too much to overcome? If Indio has his way, he will get his man.
Ryan followed Indio into the building. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened. Indio was real. He glanced back at the empty platform. He’d seen Indio walk off the stone slab and his skin turn from harsh gray to pale peach. If Ryan believed what he’d seen, then the curse story was possible.
He walked into the first life drawing room. Indio darted ahead and snagged one of the robes the models wore between stints posing nude.
Although he should be on his guard, Ryan swept his gaze over Indio’s nude form. For a man who’d spent time in stone, he was still toned. A bit pale, but if he’d been out of the sun, he would be pasty. His inky black hair curled over his forehead. When he glanced back at Ryan, his icy blue eyes sparkled. He strode with purpose, but not swagger. His velvety voice slid down Ryan’s spine and Ryan longed to grab his tight ass. Ryan wanted to gawk at Indio’s package, but also didn’t want to look too eager.
Indio covered his nudity in a robe. “Where do you want to start? I’ll explain everything.”
“I’d like to start by undressing you and licking my way all over your body,” Ryan blurted. Shit. He’d said that out loud.
“For a man who seemed afraid of me, you’re forward. I like it.” Indio sat on one of the drawing benches. “When I convince you I’m real, we will kiss again. You’re a good kisser.”
Convince? He could see a real man who’d stepped out of a statue. There was no need to prove what he’d seen. Still, he should apologize for what he’d said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”
“I don’t mind. I want to kiss and explore you, too.” Indio grinned. “I’ve learned if I want someone, I need to be honest and go for him.”
“You want me? Or someone else?” He needed to stop talking.
“I do.”
About Megan Slayer:
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library. Find out more about Megan and Wendi at: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm Sign up for the newsletter here: http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj
*WARNING: This title contains explicit sexual scenes, BDSM, and anal sex.
More dragonblood than human, Primrose Cadet yearns to find her fated mates and ease the loneliness of her secluded life. But with her beta behind psychiatric bars and the other denying his beastly nature—and hers—she’ll have to fight for them, even if it means exposing her heritage.
A manipulative voice in his head promising he can fly landed Jaxon Denham in the psych ward. Eighteen and legally allowed to finally leave his parent’s enforced prison, he searches out the golden goddess of his dreams, the one the voice within claims will give them the release they crave.
Doctor Patrick Macaire fought his inner darkness for thirty-four years, living a life of self-control and discipline to prove his sanity. When a barely legal boy and seductive siren threaten the foundation of his calm existence, he’s driven to battle the voice inside and remain untouched.
But fate is clever, and Patrick’s relentless mates won’t allow him peace, catching him up in unhuman-like passion that threatens his self-identity. Will he accept he’s an alpha dragonblood born to dominate his mates, or will his human side keep the three from fulfilling their destiny?
The second night I’d stood cloaked outside Lockwood’s eastern wing, the need to be impulsive, something I’d never dealt with before, fought my better judgment. Regardless of my beta’s mental state, I had wanted to sneak into his room and allow him to have his way with me, claim me like my inner dragon longed for.
Luckily, my ancestors had kept informative records in the cavern’s library of my sheltered upbringing, so I understood all the possible sexual positions—and means of giving pain for pleasure—as most alpha blood born were known for. Unfortunately, I had no personal knowledge of such things, and my dragon was determined to undermine my will to wait for his freedom.
My fingers ached from grasping the chain-link fence to keep my human form in place. The energy linking me to the window strengthened and pulled taut as a shadow moved into view. Even with my dragon sight, I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but as he turned his head side to side as though seeking out where the energy attaching us came from, I took note of a strong nose and full lips, a square jaw I wanted to lick and nip with my teeth as he thrust into me.
Arousal, hot and wet, rose between my thighs, same as the previous night, and I bit my lips, my dragon’s needy growl rumbling in my chest as my beta locked his gaze on where I stood, cloaked by a dragonblood gift and darkness.
Want.
My human form wanted, too, and I swallowed as my dragon attempted to take over in a burst of golden light I quickly squashed. “Soon,” I promised with a whisper.
Through the tall, barred windows, I realized my beta’s hand moved over his body, the heat in the energy linking us rising. Did he touch himself? He propped his forehead on the window, shoulder hunched as though in pain, and again, I fought the need to shift, tear through the fence and walls to free my beta mate.
His form stiffened, and head tipped back, and the most luscious race of tingles swept through me, settling in my core.
Need.
Lower lip between my teeth, I released one hand from its hold and slid my fingertips down over the front of my leggings where I throbbed. I gasped as the feather touch grazed the hardened nub at the top of my slit, and I rubbed back up over it, my hips bucking on their own as though he thrust into me, burying against my womb.
Heat exploded like a blinding light through the energy between us, capturing my human form and my inner dragon in a euphoric race to the stars. I cried out, unable to keep my lips sealed as wave after wave rippled through my body, pulsing my pussy where his hard length ought to be.
I gasped for breath, my stare on the window as he slowly moved away from sight seconds later. Wetness coated my leggings, the sweet scent of my cum rising to fill my nose.
Please.
My dragon whimpered with the need for more, for our beta’s physical touch, but I tore myself away from the fence and focused on the motel’s room where I would plan my silent, cloaked assault on the mental hospital where one of my mates remained locked inside.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
*WARNING: This title contains explicit sexual scenes, BDSM, and anal sex.
More dragonblood than human, Primrose Cadet yearns to find her fated mates and ease the loneliness of her secluded life. But with her beta behind psychiatric bars and the other denying his beastly nature—and hers—she’ll have to fight for them, even if it means exposing her heritage.
A manipulative voice in his head promising he can fly landed Jaxon Denham in the psych ward. Eighteen and legally allowed to finally leave his parent’s enforced prison, he searches out the golden goddess of his dreams, the one the voice within claims will give them the release they crave.
Doctor Patrick Macaire fought his inner darkness for thirty-four years, living a life of self-control and discipline to prove his sanity. When a barely legal boy and seductive siren threaten the foundation of his calm existence, he’s driven to battle the voice inside and remain untouched.
But fate is clever, and Patrick’s relentless mates won’t allow him peace, catching him up in unhuman-like passion that threatens his self-identity. Will he accept he’s an alpha dragonblood born to dominate his mates, or will his human side keep the three from fulfilling their destiny?
The second night I’d stood cloaked outside Lockwood’s eastern wing, the need to be impulsive, something I’d never dealt with before, fought my better judgment. Regardless of my beta’s mental state, I had wanted to sneak into his room and allow him to have his way with me, claim me like my inner dragon longed for.
Luckily, my ancestors had kept informative records in the cavern’s library of my sheltered upbringing, so I understood all the possible sexual positions—and means of giving pain for pleasure—as most alpha blood born were known for. Unfortunately, I had no personal knowledge of such things, and my dragon was determined to undermine my will to wait for his freedom.
My fingers ached from grasping the chain-link fence to keep my human form in place. The energy linking me to the window strengthened and pulled taut as a shadow moved into view. Even with my dragon sight, I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but as he turned his head side to side as though seeking out where the energy attaching us came from, I took note of a strong nose and full lips, a square jaw I wanted to lick and nip with my teeth as he thrust into me.
Arousal, hot and wet, rose between my thighs, same as the previous night, and I bit my lips, my dragon’s needy growl rumbling in my chest as my beta locked his gaze on where I stood, cloaked by a dragonblood gift and darkness.
Want.
My human form wanted, too, and I swallowed as my dragon attempted to take over in a burst of golden light I quickly squashed. “Soon,” I promised with a whisper.
Through the tall, barred windows, I realized my beta’s hand moved over his body, the heat in the energy linking us rising. Did he touch himself? He propped his forehead on the window, shoulder hunched as though in pain, and again, I fought the need to shift, tear through the fence and walls to free my beta mate.
His form stiffened, and head tipped back, and the most luscious race of tingles swept through me, settling in my core.
Need.
Lower lip between my teeth, I released one hand from its hold and slid my fingertips down over the front of my leggings where I throbbed. I gasped as the feather touch grazed the hardened nub at the top of my slit, and I rubbed back up over it, my hips bucking on their own as though he thrust into me, burying against my womb.
Heat exploded like a blinding light through the energy between us, capturing my human form and my inner dragon in a euphoric race to the stars. I cried out, unable to keep my lips sealed as wave after wave rippled through my body, pulsing my pussy where his hard length ought to be.
I gasped for breath, my stare on the window as he slowly moved away from sight seconds later. Wetness coated my leggings, the sweet scent of my cum rising to fill my nose.
Please.
My dragon whimpered with the need for more, for our beta’s physical touch, but I tore myself away from the fence and focused on the motel’s room where I would plan my silent, cloaked assault on the mental hospital where one of my mates remained locked inside.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
*WARNING: This title contains explicit sexual scenes, BDSM, and anal sex.
More dragonblood than human, Primrose Cadet yearns to find her fated mates and ease the loneliness of her secluded life. But with her beta behind psychiatric bars and the other denying his beastly nature—and hers—she’ll have to fight for them, even if it means exposing her heritage.
A manipulative voice in his head promising he can fly landed Jaxon Denham in the psych ward. Eighteen and legally allowed to finally leave his parent’s enforced prison, he searches out the golden goddess of his dreams, the one the voice within claims will give them the release they crave.
Doctor Patrick Macaire fought his inner darkness for thirty-four years, living a life of self-control and discipline to prove his sanity. When a barely legal boy and seductive siren threaten the foundation of his calm existence, he’s driven to battle the voice inside and remain untouched.
But fate is clever, and Patrick’s relentless mates won’t allow him peace, catching him up in unhuman-like passion that threatens his self-identity. Will he accept he’s an alpha dragonblood born to dominate his mates, or will his human side keep the three from fulfilling their destiny?
The second night I’d stood cloaked outside Lockwood’s eastern wing, the need to be impulsive, something I’d never dealt with before, fought my better judgment. Regardless of my beta’s mental state, I had wanted to sneak into his room and allow him to have his way with me, claim me like my inner dragon longed for.
Luckily, my ancestors had kept informative records in the cavern’s library of my sheltered upbringing, so I understood all the possible sexual positions—and means of giving pain for pleasure—as most alpha blood born were known for. Unfortunately, I had no personal knowledge of such things, and my dragon was determined to undermine my will to wait for his freedom.
My fingers ached from grasping the chain-link fence to keep my human form in place. The energy linking me to the window strengthened and pulled taut as a shadow moved into view. Even with my dragon sight, I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but as he turned his head side to side as though seeking out where the energy attaching us came from, I took note of a strong nose and full lips, a square jaw I wanted to lick and nip with my teeth as he thrust into me.
Arousal, hot and wet, rose between my thighs, same as the previous night, and I bit my lips, my dragon’s needy growl rumbling in my chest as my beta locked his gaze on where I stood, cloaked by a dragonblood gift and darkness.
Want.
My human form wanted, too, and I swallowed as my dragon attempted to take over in a burst of golden light I quickly squashed. “Soon,” I promised with a whisper.
Through the tall, barred windows, I realized my beta’s hand moved over his body, the heat in the energy linking us rising. Did he touch himself? He propped his forehead on the window, shoulder hunched as though in pain, and again, I fought the need to shift, tear through the fence and walls to free my beta mate.
His form stiffened, and head tipped back, and the most luscious race of tingles swept through me, settling in my core.
Need.
Lower lip between my teeth, I released one hand from its hold and slid my fingertips down over the front of my leggings where I throbbed. I gasped as the feather touch grazed the hardened nub at the top of my slit, and I rubbed back up over it, my hips bucking on their own as though he thrust into me, burying against my womb.
Heat exploded like a blinding light through the energy between us, capturing my human form and my inner dragon in a euphoric race to the stars. I cried out, unable to keep my lips sealed as wave after wave rippled through my body, pulsing my pussy where his hard length ought to be.
I gasped for breath, my stare on the window as he slowly moved away from sight seconds later. Wetness coated my leggings, the sweet scent of my cum rising to fill my nose.
Please.
My dragon whimpered with the need for more, for our beta’s physical touch, but I tore myself away from the fence and focused on the motel’s room where I would plan my silent, cloaked assault on the mental hospital where one of my mates remained locked inside.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
*WARNING: This title contains explicit sexual scenes, BDSM, and anal sex.
More dragonblood than human, Primrose Cadet yearns to find her fated mates and ease the loneliness of her secluded life. But with her beta behind psychiatric bars and the other denying his beastly nature—and hers—she’ll have to fight for them, even if it means exposing her heritage.
A manipulative voice in his head promising he can fly landed Jaxon Denham in the psych ward. Eighteen and legally allowed to finally leave his parent’s enforced prison, he searches out the golden goddess of his dreams, the one the voice within claims will give them the release they crave.
Doctor Patrick Macaire fought his inner darkness for thirty-four years, living a life of self-control and discipline to prove his sanity. When a barely legal boy and seductive siren threaten the foundation of his calm existence, he’s driven to battle the voice inside and remain untouched.
But fate is clever, and Patrick’s relentless mates won’t allow him peace, catching him up in unhuman-like passion that threatens his self-identity. Will he accept he’s an alpha dragonblood born to dominate his mates, or will his human side keep the three from fulfilling their destiny?
The second night I’d stood cloaked outside Lockwood’s eastern wing, the need to be impulsive, something I’d never dealt with before, fought my better judgment. Regardless of my beta’s mental state, I had wanted to sneak into his room and allow him to have his way with me, claim me like my inner dragon longed for.
Luckily, my ancestors had kept informative records in the cavern’s library of my sheltered upbringing, so I understood all the possible sexual positions—and means of giving pain for pleasure—as most alpha blood born were known for. Unfortunately, I had no personal knowledge of such things, and my dragon was determined to undermine my will to wait for his freedom.
My fingers ached from grasping the chain-link fence to keep my human form in place. The energy linking me to the window strengthened and pulled taut as a shadow moved into view. Even with my dragon sight, I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but as he turned his head side to side as though seeking out where the energy attaching us came from, I took note of a strong nose and full lips, a square jaw I wanted to lick and nip with my teeth as he thrust into me.
Arousal, hot and wet, rose between my thighs, same as the previous night, and I bit my lips, my dragon’s needy growl rumbling in my chest as my beta locked his gaze on where I stood, cloaked by a dragonblood gift and darkness.
Want.
My human form wanted, too, and I swallowed as my dragon attempted to take over in a burst of golden light I quickly squashed. “Soon,” I promised with a whisper.
Through the tall, barred windows, I realized my beta’s hand moved over his body, the heat in the energy linking us rising. Did he touch himself? He propped his forehead on the window, shoulder hunched as though in pain, and again, I fought the need to shift, tear through the fence and walls to free my beta mate.
His form stiffened, and head tipped back, and the most luscious race of tingles swept through me, settling in my core.
Need.
Lower lip between my teeth, I released one hand from its hold and slid my fingertips down over the front of my leggings where I throbbed. I gasped as the feather touch grazed the hardened nub at the top of my slit, and I rubbed back up over it, my hips bucking on their own as though he thrust into me, burying against my womb.
Heat exploded like a blinding light through the energy between us, capturing my human form and my inner dragon in a euphoric race to the stars. I cried out, unable to keep my lips sealed as wave after wave rippled through my body, pulsing my pussy where his hard length ought to be.
I gasped for breath, my stare on the window as he slowly moved away from sight seconds later. Wetness coated my leggings, the sweet scent of my cum rising to fill my nose.
Please.
My dragon whimpered with the need for more, for our beta’s physical touch, but I tore myself away from the fence and focused on the motel’s room where I would plan my silent, cloaked assault on the mental hospital where one of my mates remained locked inside.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
What people are saying about Through Roscoe’s Eyes:
“Kory Steed’s new book, Through Roscoe’s Eyes, is a tear-jerker with a very happy ending. If you love your pets, you’ll love this novel, because I think the animals stole the show in it.”
“You don’t want to miss this bestseller.”
“Check out this great title from this gifted author!”
Overview:
When Reggie sets out to continue his mother’s mission to feed the homeless, he never anticipated how much a chance encounter with an injured man, his small, gaunt dog, Roscoe, and sick, young cat, Cinders, would change the course of his life. With a winter storm approaching, Reggie makes a snap decision and brings the wary trio to his estate home to be cared for and nursed back to health.
Reggie learns the man’s name is Calvin, he was a quartermaster in the army, and he was dishonorably discharged prior to the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. Taking pity on the man and in need of someone to help him run his mother’s foundation, Reggie offers Calvin a job. With few prospects in sight to find shelter for his small family during the peak of winter, Calvin reluctantly accepts Reggie’s offer on a trial basis, but it is only one of many trials both men will face.
Eventually, yearnings Reggie and Calvin had buried deep inside begin to fan the nearly extinguished embers of passion in both men. With Calvin drawing emotional support from Roscoe and Cinders, and Reggie discovering an ally in his beloved housekeeper, both men explore their newfound attraction, edging them toward the precipice of an ecstasy neither could have imagined.
Will the discovery of a past connection between the two men’s families be enough to bring them together? Or will sinister, outside forces and an unexpected loss of life shatter the bonds between both families and both men for good?
Reggie nodded and smiled as he closed the door behind them and then led Calvin to the foot of his bed. Placing both of his hands behind Calvin’s neck, he pulled him in and tenderly kissed his mouth. His hands slid down until he reached the top of Calvin’s shirt. He drew the shirttails from his pants and began to unbutton it.
“You’ll go slow, right?” Calvin asked as he pulled away, breaking the kiss.
“Whatever you want, Calvin. We don’t have to push this. We can just talk if you like.”
Calvin’s eyes began to twinkle.“The time fer talkin’s over.”
“I’ll be very gentle,” Reggie assured him, “It’s been a while for me as well, but you have been with a man before, right?
“Oh, yeah, but it’s been more ’n a couple o’ years.”
Calvin reached for Reggie’s shirt, but Reggie stopped him when he cupped his chin with his right hand and drew him toward him by the shoulder with his left. Calvin’s arms fell to his sides as a moan escaped his mouth when Reggie ran his tongue up his neck and ended behind his ear.
“God, you smell good,” Reggie whispered. “You taste even better, but there’s something I’ve wanted even more for days now.” Reggie dropped to his knees and frantically yanked at Calvin’s belt. He undid the top button, and slid down the fly of his pants, then pulled them to the floor in one fell swoop. His eyes began to flutter as he buried his face in Calvin’s groin and inhaled his scent through the boxers’ fabric.
As Calvin’s legs began to tremble, he grasped Reggie’s head, steadying himself. “You’re gonna make me buckle over if’n you keep that up.”
“Mmm,” Reggie moaned.
“So good … you [smell] so good,” Reggie moaned between breaths, not slowing down in the least.
“Reggie!” Calvin cried out as he stumbled forward.
As he fell toward the floor, Reggie’s grip was broken as Calvin caught himself against the footboard of the bed. “Damn, boy, you nearly pushed me over the edge. You got yourself one hell of an appetite there!”
“And then some,” Reggie said, with a leer.
Calvin sat down on the floor and held his hands out in front of him. “Please, can we slow this down a smidge? We got all night.”
“Yeah, we do,” Reggie answered with lust in his voice. “And I’m planning to dine on you several times before morning.”
“Then let’s do this right.” How ‘bout a shower, or a bath first?”
“Even better.”
“This here’s a different side of you I ain’t never seen, fer sure. I think I like it, Reggie, but it’s gonna take some gettin’ used t’.”
“Sorry,” Reggie said anxiously. “I’m just so worked up right now. I can’t believe this is really happening, not to me, not now, and I don’t want it to slip by.”
Calvin caressed Reggie’s face. “Me neither.”
“I was so sure I wasn’t going to let it happen. I was determined to not allow my desire for you to ruin the friendship that began to develop between us. And besides, you’re my employee.”
Calvin leaned forward and reached out to caress Reggie’s face. “I ain’t makin’ light of it, but I sure am glad you decided otherwise, ‘coz I’m gonna need help with this,” he said as he gazed into Reggie’s eyes and drew his hand to the bulge in his pants. Then he lowered his eyes to Reggie’s groin. “And I think you’re gonna need help, too.”
Calvin pushed Reggie back up and rose to his knees as he began to unfasten Reggie’s pants. As the belt came free, Reggie helped to shimmy them down.
Reggie moaned as Calvin caressed the bulge. “There’s only one thing that will relieve it, Calvin.”
“I know.” Calvin answered as he licked his lips and leaned forward. “And I’m gonna help you out with that right now, as best I can.”
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry
Genres: Interracial, Contemporary, Western
Length: 12,000 words
Carson Benson has wanted to be a cop for as long as he can remember, but there are some days that he doesn’t like his job. Like the day he gets called out for a domestic disturbance and finds a battered woman and terrified child. What Carson didn’t realize was that it would be a turning point in his life.
Peaches Malone and her daughter Daisy are very important to Carson, and he’ll do anything to protect them. Including taking them home—to his home, where he can watch over them. And if Peaches feels that same spark he feels when he looks into her eyes, all the better.
Drew eased up to the table. “You supposed to be drinking while wearing that badge?”
Carson glanced down at the badge clipped to his belt. Hell, he’d forgotten all about it. He plucked it off the belt and shoved it into his pocket. His job was still new to him, but he loved it.
“At least I ain’t on the clock,” Carson said.
“Chief Lumley would tear into your ass if he saw you drinking while wearing that badge,” Drew said. “You can’t afford to fuck up with this job. I know it’s something you’ve wanted for a while.”
Carson shrugged. “I just forgot about it. I’m not used to wearing it yet. If I was still in my uniform, I mighta remembered. Got called out after hours, so I just grabbed the badge on my way out the door.”
“You like the job so far?”
Carson nodded. “It ain’t quite what I expected, but it’s a good job. I got to help a lady the other day when she was broken down on the side of the road. Felt good.”
“And how are things on a more personal front?” Drew asked. “You haven’t dated anyone since we moved here.”
“No one interesting, I guess. The women around here are a little too independent for my taste. I want a woman I can take care of. Someone who will lean on me, not boss me around and go out drinking with her friends every Friday night, ogling half the cowboys in town.”
Drew grinned. “In other words, you don’t want Lexie’s friend, Shelly.”
Carson snorted. “Not hardly. Guess I’m just old-fashioned. I’m not saying I don’t want her to think for herself, because I do. I just want her to need me.”
“Lexie’s a strong woman, but she needs me, even if she won’t admit it half the time. But I get what you’re saying. You want someone quiet, someone who will come to you when they get into trouble.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I want.”
“She’s out there somewhere, Carson. You’ll find her. Probably not sitting in this bar, but you’ll find her.”
*Warning: physical and verbal abuse triggers, bondage
Daniel Cooney loves to tie women up and is nicely compensated for his services as an Elite escort. He’s no sadist, however, but a gentle dominant who longs for a woman of his own, one who won’t be intimidated by his size and ropes.
Becky Eaton bends over backwards to help her boyfriend work through his mental problems, but her submissive nature enables his sick desires to turn vicious. His plans to exploit her for his pleasure backfires … Becky experiences desire—and a climax—for the first time beneath another man’s command. Master Cooney’s tender touch awakens her in ways she never expected.
Beaten and broken, Becky’s tattered heart yearns for what could be, and while Daniel’s strength proves a pillar of support, she must find the courage within to escape a murderous monster—before it’s too late.
I entered the lounge to find the dimmed area already packed. Every stool at the bar along the right was taken, and the groupings of chairs and couches scattered around the room held parties in full-on fun mode.
Naked flesh. Blowjobs. The sounds of asses being tanned—and fucked—filtered through the soft music drifting down from overhead.
One new couple caught my attention. Arrogance oozed from the wiry Dom as he stared at a woman getting her ass handed to her. His unimpressive hard-on ridged the front of his leather pants. A single rose tattoo inked his arm.
The voluptuous, dark-haired woman on the leash behind him … wide hips, thick thighs that would be gorgeous wrapped in rope, huge bare breasts with large, soft nipples.
Not an exhibitionist or voyeur…
She didn’t follow her Sir meekly as he walked around. She cowered behind him.
An insecure and co-dependent, with a Dom who took advantage of her quiet nature, my gut told me, sending a tingle of anger down my spine. I stepped off to the side and watched as he led her around the room. They drew near, and I forced myself to keep my gaze on her rather than the prick leading her around like a dog.
“How about this?” the wiry man chuckled, drawing her forward to the ménage scene on the couch to my left. “Double penetration. Two cocks shoved so far up your dry cunt you can’t remember your name?” He laughed again, and the woman trembled, her hands sneaking down to cover the thatch of black hair hiding her pussy.
My fist itched to break Wiry’s nose, the first hint of violence I’d felt in years.
“Well?” Wiry asked, yanking on her lead rope when she didn’t answer. “Does this turn that frigid, fat body of yours on?”
“N-no, Sir.”
“Goddamnit, Becky.” Wiry strode off, pulling her behind him. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
Tearing my gaze off her swaying, lush ass, I swore. Striding across the lounge didn’t lessen my anger, and I continued on with my cussing through the guarded door leading to the private rooms and down the carpeted hall. I wasn’t prone to violence, but if those two were taking the bondage class, I was in deep shit.
“Not my monkey, not my circus,” I muttered while pushing open the door to the private room Chantelle had set up for classes. “Don’t get involved.”
Adrenaline laced my bloodstream, but my hands held steady while rifling through the supplies of silk and hemp rope that had been laid out. A few basic knots, I thought, trying to focus on the task ahead of me. I pulled a chair onto the stage, positioning it on a side angle from where my small audience would sit.
Ask for a volunteer, Chantelle had said. I snorted. I highly doubted I’d get away without having to talk someone into sitting on the chair while their spouse or partner watched.
“Hopefully, one of the new Doms won’t mind sharing for an hour,” I muttered to myself.
Or, my conscious whispered, maybe Wiry and Becky will be in the class, and you can ask her to join you on stage. Show her what a real Dom is like.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers. I try to write characters who aren’t cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love. I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on the web:
