I’m hockey royalty. The Baldwin name has gotten me far in the NHL.
But after I get suspended for a fight gone wrong, my general manager gives me two options— go to anger management or find a new team.
I don’t believe in therapy. But four months of sitting across from the sexiest doctor I’ve ever met has a strange effect on me.
Lila gets me to talk about the past I keep buried.
She makes me feel things I’ve locked away for a reason.
I don’t keep women around long.
But once our sessions are over, I can’t let her go…
Not when she’s the cure for thawing the ice around my heart.
“One date,” I say against her lips. “Duke, I don’t know…” I take her hand and hold it over my heart. “Can you feel that?” Lila bobs her head, and I continue, “I’ve never felt like this about another woman.” She shakes her head. “This is crazy.” “And I’m crazy about you.”
When Michael Nole propositions Dillon Spade outside a BDSM club one evening, all he is looking for is a potential client and a little kink. He gets much more than he bargained for. As a prostitute, Michael enjoys sex but keeps an emotional distance between himself and the men he sleeps with. His priority is to keep himself safe, but after a night in Dillon’s bed, he finds the line between enjoyment and occupation blurring.
Dillon hasn’t taken another man home since his previous lover passed away six years ago, but there is something about Michael that calls to his inner Dominant in a way he cannot resist. His instincts want to claim the boy even as he reminds himself that he is only paying Michael for temporary company.
Their relationship may have started as a business transaction, but it’s difficult to remain professional when breaking all the rules.
Dillon glanced up to find a young man leaning against the hood of his car. At Dillon’s pointed look, he took a step back, so he no longer touched the automobile.
“What gave you the impression I want company?”
“You obviously didn’t find what you were looking for in there” came the reply with a nod back at Harte, the BDSM club Dillon had just exited. “If you had, you wouldn’t be leaving this early.”
“And you think you’re what I want?”
The boy shrugged.
Dillon peered at him. He appeared to be in his midtwenties, fit and tight in the way Dillon remembered being before he’d hit thirty-three. He was shorter than Dillon with dark-brown hair long enough to grip: two things Dillon liked in a submissive. There was something familiar about him as well. If Dillon wasn’t mistaken, he’d seen him heading into a nearby motel a few times and never with the same “date.”
“Are you a prostitute?” Dillon asked.
The blunt question evoked an expression of surprise, but it rapidly morphed into a smooth smile. “‘Prostitute’ sounds like a job. It’s more of a hobby.”
“One you get paid for.”
“It’s a good hobby.”
Dillon cracked a smile. “How much do you charge?”
“Depends on what you want to do.”
That was reasonable enough, and if he’d been waiting outside Harte, he must know to expect kink and charge for it accordingly. “Are you clean?”
“Yes, and condoms are necessary and at your expense.”
“Expense? That sounds like a job term to me,” Dillon teased.
He considered his options. The boy was right. He hadn’t found what he was searching for in the club, and he held no illusions he ever would. Even after six years, he couldn’t help comparing every submissive he came across to the lover he’d lost. Harte called him a stubborn old goat, but the thought of building a relationship from scratch exhausted him. It was so hard to find someone whose rhythms and tastes fit with his own. Granted, the club was designed for negotiation and mutually desired play, but that was for the scenes that took place there. What about the rest of the time?
Dillon didn’t want a casual play partner. That did nothing more for him than scratch an itch that would return in no time. He wanted someone he could build a life with. He wasn’t going to find that with a prostitute, but something about the stranger brought forth yearnings Dillon hadn’t felt in years. He could take the boy home with him, indulge in what he wanted in his own territory and under his own rules. It would be a purchased illusion, but it beat going home alone and sleeping in an empty bed.
“Come on,” he said, pulling his car door open and unlocking the other side. “We’ll talk details when we get to my place.”
“Your place? Don’t you mean a hotel?”
“My place,” repeated Dillon. “I don’t do quick fucks.”
Jacqueline Grey currently lives on an island on the east coast of the United States. She spends her time outside her day job juggling her many interests which include reading, writing and drinking tea. She loves M/M romance, usually focusing on stories that include BDSM themes to one degree or another.
Jacqueline has always been driven by characters. She loves a good plot, but it’s the characters that pull her into a story. She loves romance and believes everyone has a right to be happy. She enjoys seeing her characters find that happiness for themselves.
Working security for my MC brother, I’m tasked with protecting a crooked judge who targets his willful daughter with emotional abuse.
She’s beautiful. She’s confident and has a backbone of steel, but I recognize the pain in her eyes.
She distracts me from my job, and echoes of Pop’s taunts of my being a failure fester in my head.
But I will prove him wrong.
I will withstand our connection, the relentless pull between us.
I will protect her family—her—from the unknown enemy, even if it costs me my soul.
*This is the second book in the Vicious Vipers MC series and may be unsuitable for someone under 18 years of age. HEA guaranteed, however, secondary characters make appearances in other’s stories. Reading in order is recommended.
A blast of cold air hit my face, but my breath caught for an entirely different reason as subtle lilac and vanilla scents swirled around me.
Giada Burtonelli stood on the granite stoop, coat gaping open to reveal a jade-colored dress that wrapped around her body, cradling the type of tits I wanted to fuck. Tiny, tucked waist, perfect for the span of my hands. The skirt’s center split to display the top of her thighs, inches from the apex of where I bet heaven lay in wait—much too fucking short. Toned legs, tanned and smooth, led to spiked heels porn stars wore while getting their asses fucked.
My dick jolted, and I clenched my jaw against the combustion of lust that roared to life in my balls. Lifting my focus off her hot as fuck body to her face didn’t help matters. Eyes, green as spring grass, sharp as a damn Samurai sword, pierced through me with the type of instantaneous connection that robbed a man of his identity. Her full lips parted on a quick intake of air as her focus moved upward over my body to meet my gaze.
I’d seen pictures. Knew she’d be beautiful, but I didn’t expect my breath to be ripped from my lungs or the hairs on my body to stand at attention because of the energy crackling between us.
“You’re late!” Burtonelli barked from behind me.
Giada’s eyes hardened as she lifted her pointed chin, her ruby red lips thinning into a line.
I moved back, fucking tongue-tied.
“Hello to you, too, Father.” Low and husky, her voice thickened my dick even more.
“Could you make an effort to be on time just once, Giada?” Burtonelli moved toward her, his scowl raking down over her. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“Oscar,” she snipped her reply, her eyes flashing.
“You look like a whore. Fitting, I suppose, since you can’t seem to keep your legs closed to every Tom, Dick, and Harry who shows interest in you.”
I blinked, but her façade didn’t crack. Not the first time she’d heard such a thing, I expected as my fists clenched, but not my monkey…
Her father stalked past her. “I specifically said to be on time,” he continued. “You know how important this night is.” Stomping down the granite stairs toward the waiting limo in the circular drive, he muttered about people contributing to his campaign and what they might think of his daughter’s inappropriate attire—and the fact it was too late for her to change.
Kiss, kiss—fake as hell, before Mrs. Burtonelli hurried after her husband as though he tugged her along with a leash.
Marisa came next to greet her sister, her face pained as though empathetic toward Giada being her father’s verbal punching bag, but it was Cristian’s infectious grin and grabby hands to hug her that brought a smile to Giada’s face.
And Christ, what a smile. Dimple, flashing white teeth, eyes alight with enough joy to slam an uppercut into my gut, stealing my breath again.
I stared as they hugged, jealousy slithering in like a damn snake to wrap coils around my stomach and squeeze. Possessiveness wasn’t something I’d felt before, but fuck if I didn’t recognize its gut-twisting presence—even if it was her brother putting his hands on her.
Stretching my neck side to side, I tore my attention off the two siblings whispering to one another and glanced at Greed who watched me with a smirk on his face.
I scowled and spun to follow Marisa outside. I should have been the first into the night even though Burtonelli’s personal guards already awaited us in the circular drive out front, but everything about Giada distracted me.
My scowl deepened. Focus.
The plan had been for Greed to ride in the limo with the family while I took shotgun in the lead car, but I decided on a change while scanning their gated property in the darkening sky.
Three Burtonelli guards, including their driver and head of security who’d been placed beneath my command for the duration of the contract, stayed positioned where I’d commanded along the drive. All of us were connected by top of the line ear pieces provided by Tellier Security.
The driver stood by the car’s back door as Mrs. Burtonelli slid inside, the other two packing with heads swiveling where they waited by the cars boxing the limo in.
Hairs on my neck stirred, but without any sense of impending danger.
Giada.
I could feel her focus on my back like a soft caress, a whisper of fingertips along my spine, but I didn’t turn, even after the mansion’s front door slammed shut.
Fighting off shivers and my body’s distraction from my job, I strode toward the limo, waving the driver away. Cristian moved into my periphery as I pulled up by the opened door, and he slid in behind his oldest sister.
I feigned disinterest as Giada neared in a cloud of sweet, subtle lilac laced with vanilla.
My hand moved on its own, offering her assistance even though I continued to scan the property, senses beyond alert, my body strung fucking tight as hell.
Her smooth fingers danced across mine, and I gripped tight in sudden need to yank her close. Soothe the hurt her father had inflicted that she’d tried to hide behind a mask of who-gives-a-shit stubbornness.
I turned my focus on her face—she stared up at me, her eyes wide and lips parted. Currents raced through our clasped fingers, straight to my dick.
“Giada!” Her father’s annoyed call from inside the limo jerked her attention off me, and I grit my teeth while she bent down to get into the limo and join her family.
I released my hold on her hand and fought the need to watch her ass as she climbed into the limo. Greed approached, his inquisitive stare on my face.
“I’m riding with them,” I told him, my tone not welcoming argument or question.
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.
* Nestled within the hills of central Texas is a special ranch. A place that defies the laws of physics—that of time, space, and dimensions. It’s a place where normal morphs with the paranormal and supernatural. A place that seems to know what a person’s true desires and needs are, and then allows the right circumstances to occur to fulfill those wishes.
* Welcome to the Gateway Ranch.
* Your gateway to all things possible…
~ About the Book ~
* Katrina Foster has survived a life no one dreams about and most don’t want to know about. Escaping to a ranch in Texas she used to visit during the summers of her childhood and rekindling an old relationship with Dakota Remington, she hopes to leave the nightmare of her past behind her. At first, all seems well, but when strange things begin to happen, she wonders if history’s about to repeat itself.
* Dakota Remington has devoted his life to working at Gateway Ranch. He’s excited when Kat, his former sweetheart, returns and looks forward to reuniting with her. He finds she’s changed, though, and he’s not sure if it’s for the better. But he’s up for the challenge of the puzzle that is Kat.
~ Excerpt ~
* The hard composite of her firearm shifted against her lower back.
* Well, if push comes to shove, I can protect myself. I’ll shoot the bastard if he shows up and tries anything.
* Eventually, her nerves calmed enough so she could move without feeling ill.
* She rose and stripped out of her clothes, put her weapon on the counter, then stepped into the shower. The hard and hot spray beat on her, helping her to feel something other than worry about potential rumors or her ex finding her. Kat bowed her head, placed her hands above the faucets. The water sluiced down her hair, cascaded in wide streams over her back. More time passed. Relaxed and clear headed, she finished her shower and was about to open the door when a thud and click sounded on the other side.
* Gripping the towel wrapped around her body, she snatched her weapon, opened the door, and cautiously looked out into the room.
* Dakota lounged on the bed, one leg bent, his hat propped on that leg’s knee. His hair stuck up in clumpy spikes. He ran a dirty hand through his dark brown locks.
* Kat released a pent-up breath, lowered her weapon, and placed the Glock on a counter next to the bathroom door. “How’d you get in here?”
* Tired eyes gazed at her. “I’m manager on duty while the Taggerts are away, ’member? Got a bunch of master keys.” Dak held up the ring of them. “You okay? When you didn’t come back, I got worried.”
* “I’m fine. I think the humidity got to me. Along with the dirt.”
* “Sure. The humidity. You tell me that you’re afraid a man is going to come after you, or rather us. We hear about the vehicle. You turn white as one of our ghosts and run off. Who was in the car, Kat?”
* “Hell if I know. I’ve been with you all day. I didn’t see the fancy black car or who was in it.”
* “You don’t have a clue as to who was in the car? I’m not buying it.”
* “Buy it or don’t.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “I really don’t know. It could have been Nero. It could have been his goons. It could have been a neighbor of yours or one of the party guests Kent mentioned. I. Wasn’t. There. I. Didn’t. See.”
* Dakota flung himself off the bed and slammed the hat on his head. “Get dressed. You’ll come with me while I get cleaned up then we’ll go hang out in the rec hall.”
* “You know what, Dak? I appreciate the Boy Scout approach, and how you’re trying to get a merit badge for babysitting, but all I want is to lie down and take a nap.”
* “Kat, please. I’m hot, dirty, and tired. I don’t want to argue.” He strode to the door. “Get dressed so we can get going.” His gaze flashed darkly, roamed over her with an appraising glance. A slow grin tipped up the corner of his lips.
Thank you for joining me here today and celebrating the release of my story, To Be Yours! Be sure to buy a copy now. 😉 I’d super appreciate it. 🙂
About C.R. Moss:
* An eccentric and eclectic writer, C.R. Moss pens stories for the mainstream and erotic romance markets, giving readers a choice of sweet, savory or spicy reads, usually within a sub-genre or two — paranormal, sci-fi/fantasy, time travel, or western flare. She also has a passion for penning dark fiction. Writing as Casey Moss, she delves into the darker aspects of life in her work, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the lighthearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Griff has been living with a terrible secret for centuries. He’s a high demon, but he has wild needs and desires to be a pleasure demon — to submit to another. Such things are forbidden in hell, but he finally breaks down and confesses his desires to his best friend Savilry, risking not just their friendship but his own safety.
He could never have dreamed Savilry’s response, and Griff will never be the same again.
or pre-order for February 14th at online retailers
For a super sexy, melt-your-ereader-it’s-so-hot sneak peek, be sure to check out the book on Changeling Press… CLICK HERE (excerpt only recommended for those 18+)
ABOUT SEAN MICHAEL
Writing under S. Michael for Het Ménage and Sean for signature M/M titles, Sean Michael leads a classic double life.
Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” Sean Michael spends days surfing, smutting, organizing an immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs.
While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and perusing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to “Chicago.”
A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.
Barring any of that? Sean’ll stick with writing stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.
Please tell us a little about your new release (The Scarlet Dove) without giving too much of a spoiler away.
First of all, it’s a historical ménage romance set in 1888. It’s about a woman trying to find her place in a male-dominated world that has set parameters for how “proper” women should be.
Did you found any cool tidbits in your historical research for this book?
So a lot of this story is about my heroine, Liza, and her desire to find her place in the wild west. She has a wild dream of becoming a doctor. I did a lot of research on if that was a possibility. I always try to use historical characters in my stories, if possible, and I was able to incorporate some of that into The Scarlet Dove.
Was it difficult getting the heroes to a point where they could let their guard down and be open to the possibilities of love?
My two heroes, Blue and Apollo, are cousins. They’re tracking a dangerous killer and abductor of women. When they come across Liza, they’re unprepared for their attraction to her. I think it confuses the hell out of them and their jealous of each other. A ménage relationship isn’t in their radar at all, so love takes them by surprise.
How did you find that great balance between conflict and romance?
Conflict can intensify emotions. I like using it to develop a bond between the characters.
What part of the story was the most fun to write?
There is a very funny scene where Apollo and Blue put Liza on a train, and then realize the bad guy is on the train, so they race after it and jump onto it. It was like writing out a scene in a movie. The dialogue is hilarious.
Do you have a favorite line?
I have so many it’s hard to narrow down to just one. Apollo and Blue have a great repertoire, flowing back and forth. Many lines can’t be taken in one context since there is a reason behind it. Here’s one: (in response to Apollo asking “What can happen on a train?” )
“Remember when you asked what could happen on a train?” Blue murmured back. “Now you know.”
What is your favorite subgenre of romance to write?
I love paranormal and apocalyptic stories. They are very freeing to the imagination, and IMO, it really strips down a person’s relatability. I’ve just finished up an “end of the world” story, book one, and am plotting the second one now.
Are you in any of your books?
Don’t all writers put themselves in their stories? There’s a little bit of me in every book, I think. Maybe it’s just a random thought or a gesture, but something of me is in all my characters.
When choosing the title for your book(s) do you have a process or do you wing it?
Ah…titles are very important to me! Some are based off songs (A Man After Midnight came from “Gimme Gimme Gimme” by ABBA) and some come from a lot of thinking and soul searching. Sometimes I think of a unique title and try to build a story around it. The Scarlet Dove got it’s name because the nickname for prostitutes was “soiled dove”. I changed the name to scarlet because Liza is a red-head.
What’s on the horizon?
Several things. I have a story coming out in an anthology. I’m finishing up edits in the last book of my World of Danger series. I submitted book 1 of 2 of an apocalypse story. I have a time travel ready to submit. And I have a couple more outlined, waiting to be written.
Can Liza find her place in a lawless world?
When Liza Trent decided to become a mail order bride out west, she never imagined her fiancé would die before she arrived. His death places her in debt, and the only way to pay off the money is by auctioning off her virginity against her will. When she’s rescued by two handsome men, she mistakenly thinks they’re assassins. Despite her reservations, she accepts their protection.
Only the two men, Apollo Beck and Blue Hawke, aren’t assassins. They’re Texas Rangers sent after a man who preys on women, and their dangerous hunt has just brought Liza into the line of fire.
Confused with the attraction she feels for two men, Liza has a difficult decision before her: commit to loving Apollo and Blue or commit to her burning desire to become a doctor…unless she’s found and taken for revenge first.
Content Warning: contains violence, strong language, and explicit sex scenes, including anal sex
Genre(s): Historical Romance / Menage
EXCERPT
“It’s him,” Liza whispered in a hate-filled tone. “The man who tricked me.”
“Reynolds,” Blue spat.
“All three of you!” Reynolds screamed. “You’ll pay! You’ll pay for everything!”
The gun wavered in an unstable hand. Blue and Apollo glanced at each other and then charged forward. A shot exploded and Apollo went down. Blue tackled Reynolds to the ground. The two men rolled around, each trying to get the upper hand.
Apollo did his best to try to focus on the two men, but agony lanced through him as he tried to get to his feet. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and he honestly didn’t know how bad he was shot.
And then a pair of soft, steady hands took his away. “Let me see,” Liza softly said.
“Uh,” he moaned. “Blue—”
“Is holding his own,” she interrupted him. Though she carefully probed, the pain rippled through Apollo, and he halted her hand. “You need medical help,” she told him.
“Get Reynolds first,” he panted.
Her eyebrows arched. “You know him?”
“I was sent to kill him.”
Her mouth fell open, and she looked from him to where Blue still fought with Reynolds.
“There’s a blade in my boot,” he whispered, wiggling his right foot and bringing her attention back to him. “Give it to Blue.”
She hesitated for only a second before reaching for the marked boot. He felt her hand slide in and grab the hilt. She slid it free and rose, turning to the fight that had attracted several people’s attention.
“I have a knife, Blue!” she called out.
In a flash, Blue spun away from Reynolds and grabbed the knife from Liza’s shaky hand. As he turned back, he let it fly. They watched as it flipped end over end and buried itself into Reynolds’s shoulder, right where the arm and chest met. For a moment, no one moved. Then the confused crowd rushed to help Reynolds, who stumbled away, and Blue turned to grab Liza’s hand and hurry over to Apollo.
“You need medical attention,” he said without preamble, mimicking Liza’s earlier statement.
“Not here,” Apollo growled. “Help me up.”
“You should rest,” Liza said.
“You think anyone is going to help the people responsible for burning down half the town?” As he sat up with a gasp of pain, Blue let go of Liza’s hand to help him stand. “Is Reynolds dead?”
They all looked at the small crowd that had moved in to help Reynolds when the blade had got him, only to see the crowd starting to point at them and talk. Reynolds was nowhere to be found.
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:
Just like any other shifter, Julie always imagined meeting her mate and living happily ever after with the charming male of her dreams. Nothing could have prepared her for the shitstorm that was about to become her love life. With her luck though, shouldn’t she have expected it?
Hector has lived his life knowing that he’d become Alpha of Blue Valley one day. Turns out, acting like you always have it together and living it? Well, those are two very different things. He panicked when he first realized that his sister’s best friend was his mate, now he must rise to the occasion in hopes that he can salvage the rest of his life—but no pressure.
Deacon had no idea what fate had in store for him with a new start in Blue Valley, meeting his mate and her ‘plus one’ wasn’t it. These two are so mixed up in the past it seems almost impossible to make things right and move forward. Good thing he’s a professional.
Julie was very proud of herself for waiting until seven the next morning before she climbed the trellis to Heidi’s bedroom window and snuck in just like she’d done a million times since they were children—well, maybe not exactly the same. This time, she had the forethought to listen at the window to make sure all occupants were still sleeping. The last thing she needed was to interrupt her bestie getting ‘serviced’ by her new beaus. But given the fact that the current bane of her existence was most likely sleeping in a room down the hall, she simply couldn’t risk the front door. She had just eased the window shut and turned around to a rather large mound of bodies in Heidi’s double bed, thankfully still covered by a quilt. Her legs were bent, preparing to launch as a devious smile crept over her lips… “Wak—ahh!” She squeaked and jumped back as a low growl split the previous silence and two sets of golden feline eyes popped open in the dim light of dawn. “No, Julie,” Mason growled. “No eggs and no damned bakey! We’re taking back that spare key unless you agree to never come through our door before 8:00 AM again.” “She came in through the window,” Wade muttered before pulling a pillow over his head. “What’s happening?” Heidi groaned before her eyes opened slowly. “Hey, babe, what’s going on? Why do you look like hammered shit?” “No.” Mason placed a huge paw over Heidi’s face, and Julie struggled not to laugh, as her twenty minutes of sleep last night threatened to snap her mind. “You can have a key to our new place if you agree not to barge into our bedroom at ungodly times in the morning.” “Okay … unless it’s an emergency.” She reluctantly agreed with the giant, naked tiger in her best friend’s bed. “Great, now can I please get back to cuddling my mate—” “It’s an emergency!” Her voice bellowed to the ceiling as she interrupted him, causing giggles to erupt from Heidi and curses from the men on each side of her. “You are an emergency.” Mason groaned and followed Wade’s lead to pull a pillow over his head as Heidi tried to climb out from in between the two of them. “Awww, you’re so sweet, thank you.” She knew he hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but she was a wolf and was therefore genetically predisposed to only hear things she wanted to. “Is there a reason you’re using the window instead of the door?” Heidi asked as she pulled on a robe. “Oh Goddess, did Derek get drunk and pass out in his lion form on the porch again?” “No…” Wow, this confession was going to be tougher than she thought it would be. Julie didn’t think Heidi would be mad that Hector was her mate, but there was a very good chance that she was going to be furious that Julie had known all these years and didn’t say a Goddess-damned thing about it to her best friend in the entire world. There was really only one way to deal with this, Julie knew that. So, she’d do what she’d always done when it came to delivering bad news to a lion shifter female—she’d Band-Aid that bitch off quickly and then dive for cover. “I’ve known for the last six years that your asshole brother, Hector, is my mate, but he pretended like it wasn’t happening and he obviously doesn’t want me, so I don’t want him either and last night he lost his mind and said it out loud in front of your brothers and your dad and now I don’t know what’s going to happen!” It all came out in one overly loud, long, run-on sentence and when it was done, Julie covered her face with her hands and waited for the worst. Huh. I wasn’t expecting the worst to be a bunch of heavy breathing… She moved two fingers aside so she could see what was happening, and in case Heidi tried to maul her, she would still only lose one eye. To her surprise, Heidi, as well as both of her mates were just staring at her with their mouths hanging open. The seconds ticked by and Julie watched closely as her friend’s expression moved from shock to realization, then a murderous look clouded over and Julie waited to get yelled at for betraying the one person she loved most in the world. “That … arrogant, selfish, know-it-all, big-haired son of a bitch!” Heidi screamed, her hands clenching as her claws slid from her fingertips. “I’ll kill him!” Now it was Julie’s turn to stand there in shock, but lucky for them all, Heidi’s mates recovered quickly as they both grabbed her before she could yank the bedroom door open and go find her big brother. “So … you don’t hate me?” Julie’s words were quiet, but they stopped Heidi in her tracks like she’d used a bullhorn. “For not telling you all these years?” “Oh, babe.” Heidi pulled her in for a big, lion-sized hug, and for once, Julie didn’t struggle. She just took the comfort her friend offered. “I don’t hate you. I wish you had told me, though. I can’t imagine how awful this must have been, going through it all alone. But don’t worry, we’ll fix it.” Julie sighed. “I don’t need you to fix anything, Heidi. There’s nothing left between me and your brother. He made his choice, and I made peace with that years ago.” Liar. The worst thing that cat-bastard ever did was make me have to lie to my best friend, and now he’s doing it all over again. From the look on Heidi’s face, she suspected Julie wasn’t being honest, but she was thankful Mason interrupted. “Well,” he announced, looking at his phone. “I think the first thing we should do is get both of you out of here and away from that asshole lion. My assistant just texted the house is ready. Let’s go.” “Good plan,” Julie agreed and walked to the exit, ready to get away from the slight scent of Hector that was lingering in the hallway. When the room went silent, she looked behind her. “We’re not climbing out the damned window.” Wade rolled his eyes at her. Tigers. So danged bossy.
Author Info:
Sarah Marsh was born in British Columbia, she’s only recently began her writing career finding it the perfect outlet for taking the edge off a nine to five job. She’s a science fiction and romance junkie and when her imagination started to take the characters she’d read about even further in their adventures she decided to try writing something of her own.
Her biggest weaknesses are animals of any kind … she even loves the ones that wake you up at four in the morning because they can almost see the bottom of their food dish.
When it comes to life in general she’s a big believer that laughter is the best medicine and that there’s no such thing as too much love, which is why she’s such a sucker for a happy ending.
The Lawyer’s Secret Baby Polly Carter
Published by: Blushing Books Publications
Publication date: February 5th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Just when you think things are finally looking up…
Harley Brand, social worker and single mother, has come through some dark times, but feels ready to start anew, including renewing her relationship with the man of her dreams. Without warning, one pretty Perth spring morning, the worst nightmare of her life begins. Due to unintentional circumstances it looks as if her future may be cruelly snatched away from her. Broken hearted and terrified of what the future holds, she turns to her best friend, Jessamy Lushpin, PI, who promises to fix things for her.
Arian has returned to Australia to continue his law practice and find the woman who got away, the love of his life–Harley Brand. He’s older, more mature and not the same man Harley ran from years ago. This time there will be consequences for her naughty behavior.
Can they find the love they lost and begin again? Will Harley’s closely guarded secret destroy them or make them stronger? Will Arian be able to break through her walls and ensure their happily-ever-after?
Publisher’s Note: this contemporary romance is intended for adults only and contains elements of mystery, suspense, danger and power exchange. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
“Oof! Oh, sorry…” she mumbled but as her eyes rose to the face above her the words died in her throat. “Arian!” she gasped in disbelief, staring into the eyes of the man blocking her path.
“Hal! Is that you?” Arian Fletcher said in shocked surprise. “My God, it is. Come here. Let me look at you.” His hands took hold of her shoulders and she could feel the iron tension in his grip. “Crikey, Hal, you’re shaking like a leaf! Come here.” He pulled her closer to the cafe wall so they were out of the way of passing pedestrians and, without letting her go, reclined back against it and studied her.
Harley’s legs felt like cooked spaghetti and she had to lean against his hands for support, able only to stare at him in disbelief. If she had thought her life had a dream-like, albeit a bad dream, quality to it before, it had suddenly turned utterly surreal. She might think him a phantom, conjured by her thoughts of him over coffee, except that her shoulders were aching from the firmness of his grip.
“As beautiful as ever,” he said. “And you’ve cut your hair! I like it, but I’m glad you kept this.” He fluffed her fringe. “Very cute.” His eyes trailed over her face and down the rest of her. “But, God, Hal, you’re so pale and thin.” His brow creased in a worried frown, he reached up to gently touch her face as though even the brush of a feather might bruise her. “What’s wrong? Are you all right? Are you ill?”
From the instant she’d seen him, her whole being had filled with his presence and the world about her had ceased to exist. He looked a little older; the last traces of boyhood had disappeared, not just from the passing of years but also from battles fought and experiences endured. Tiny creases had formed above his long, thick black eyebrows and at the edges of his deep brown eyes and generous mouth, not so much laugh-lines more grim determination ones. His black trousers and white business shirt didn’t hide the bulk and hardness of his muscular chest and arms, which, like everything about him, exuded ripe alpha-male power. He was gorgeous. He was married. Her life was a mess. She hated the world.
In the aftermath of his father’s funeral, Dom Wesa, the new Alpha of Luxor City’s Central Empire, stumbles upon an Omega in desperate need of help. The Omega, Lin Vasiliev, wakes to find he’s been taken into Dom’s home to be rehabilitated. Dom thinks the young addict may have information about the illicit drug trade going on in his Empire. He gets Lin sober to question him only to discover that Lin is new in town and ignorant of Luxor’s laws.
Dom and Lin are both suspicious of each other at first for their own reasons, but as that wariness wears away a deep attraction develops between them. Dom dotes on Lin, leaving the once stone-broke Omega bathed in finery he never could have imagined. They start planning for Lin’s upcoming heat, when they will be driven together by their kindling bond and strong compatibility as an Alpha and Omega pair. However, in the midst of their swelling romance, Luxor’s most notorious Alpha reappears sparking a gang war that threatens to turn the entire city into a battleground.
There had never been fewer tears shed at a funeral.
It was strange. Crowds had wailed at funerals for worse men, but not a single soul in Luxor City wept for Malik Wesa, a business magnate who’d left behind a wife and two sons. They just stood there, all of them staring straight ahead with cold black eyes as the funeral director rolled the old man’s coffin into the crematory. Visible through a tiny char-stained window, the man who’d once been their leader burned down to ash and bone until there was nothing left of him but dust.
Shaking the image from his mind, Dom Wesa walked out through a wrought-iron fence and left the inner-city funeral home. He buried his hands deep in the pockets of his overcoat and made his way back across the busy city streets toward his office on the east side of town.
A chill rolled off the water near the docks as the year moved into fall. Dom originally drove to the funeral home with the rest of the family, but he couldn’t bear to spend another second with them even if it meant enduring the icy wind.
When a family member dies, all too often they are given a whole new life story. This was a universal truth Dom struggled to wrap his head around. There weren’t any tears at his father’s funeral, but there were enough artificial words of kindness to make him grit his teeth and bite his tongue until his eyes watered.
They all loved to mention how hard things would be for Dom with his father gone; how much weight would now fall on his shoulders.
Dom wanted to laugh. He’d been running this town without his old man’s help for ages. The death of the man he had stopped calling father a long time ago wouldn’t change a thing in his day-to-day life; it just made his position more official. Dom was now the eldest Alpha of the Wesa family, one of the great crime families in Luxor City, the capital of New America.
Decades back, when the government’s power over New America first started to crumble, the gangs of Luxor City went to war, fighting for control over the expansive city’s lucrative ports. As Dom walked through the streets, he passed the remnants of that conflict in the form of bullet holes etched into brick walls that lined the sidewalks and boulevards. Luxor hadn’t always been a haven of prosperity. These wounds were stark reminders that they should not let war tear their city apart again. They’d been preserved during reconstruction.
After years of brutality and gangland warfare, the dust finally settled over the metropolitan battleground. Only three factions were left in a city divided by chaos. They brokered a peace treaty, a deal that divided Luxor into three Empires, each ruled firmly by the Alpha heads of the surviving crime families: Wesa in the Center, Faraji in the North, and Sun in the South.
Dom Wesa was the sole Alpha heir to the Central Empire, a great strip of land stretching from the high-rises along the city’s eastern ports all the way to the cliffs on the western coast. Their portion of city was the smallest, but the Center also included the West Island, the final stretch of green pasture and woodland in Luxor, a place where only the wealthiest families could afford acreage.
Sila Wesa, the family’s Omega matriarch, still maintained an estate there. She would probably return home once the ladder-climbing mourners all left her in peace. As an Omega, she was expected to stay home and mourn her Alpha’s death for at least a year. Dom hated thinking of her returning to that vast hollow estate, but she wouldn’t be alone. She had his younger brother, Atsadi, with her.
Maybe they could be happy there now, but Dom couldn’t stand the place.
He made his way to his portside office, the private sanctuary where he conducted the family business, far removed from his father’s offices across from the luxury hotels and nightclubs downtown. It was an old-fashioned Deco-style building, relatively small compared to Luxor’s expansive high-rises, but taller than the nearby brownstone residences lining the old dock’s edge.
Dom entered through the public hall and took the stairs to his office instead of his private elevator. He couldn’t stand still, not even for a minute, not until he got a drink in him.
His office took up most of the fifth floor. A large window lined the street-facing wall, giving him a view of his docks and businesses as well as the swaying blue horizon of the Pacific Ocean.
Ships pulled in and out, always coming and going. The ports were the center of all business in Luxor. They had been around since the city’s foundation and wrapped around the entire coastline, enclosing Luxor in a circle of docks extending out into the water like a sea urchin’s spikes. It was a well-known fact that he who controlled the ports, controlled the trade, and he who controlled the trade, controlled the city.
Dom was fond of the old portside architecture. He had always been keen on the brutalist, Deco styles of ancient cities. He even decorated his office to match with polished wood and geometric patterns of gold emblazoned on black surfaces.
Inside the familiar space he’d made his own, he poured himself a glass of whisky from a decanter on his side table. He took a good long swig before taking a seat in the plush leather chair behind his mahogany desk.
Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes until a quiet thud on his desk drew them open again.
A thin newssheet folded down the middle sat in the center of his desk. Images flashed across its holographic surface. Dom recognized himself, his brother, and his mother in more than one. Fucking paparazzi.
The Luxor City Times headline read: Death of Malik Wesa leaves Central Empire in hands of son, Dominik.
Dom stared at the paper with a deadpan expression. Unblinking, he took another sip of his drink.
“Somehow I figured you’d be back in the office today.”
Dom’s gaze shifted in the direction of the voice.
His right-hand woman, Isa Saqui, stood over his desk smirking down at him.
Isa had been Dom’s eyes and ears ever since terminal illness took his old man out of power and put Dom in charge. She was an Alpha, a member of the dominant sex, like everyone in his inner circle. Isa stood tall, a muscular and imposing woman with angular bone structure casting dramatic shadows over her olive skin. Her long hair was tied in an intricate brunette braid that fell over one shoulder.
Dom turned away from her and picked up the newssheet. Without giving it another glance, he tossed it back across the desk toward her.
“The headline is hilarious,” he muttered before taking another drink.
Isa chuckled as she snatched the thin device back up.
“Isn’t it?” she said as she examined the article. “I mean, it’s not even news. Your old man hadn’t been running shit for years.”
Dom huffed.
It was true. Even before his father’s illness, Dom had been in charge, but Malik’s stint in the hospital had truly put him in power. In under a year, he’d earned the city’s respect and made vast alterations throughout the Central Empire to counter his father’s ineffective rule. Dom had always been in control; nothing would change now Malik Wesa was gone.
“We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” Dom said, smiling around the rim of his glass.
“Then let’s talk business.” Isa grinned like a shark. “Because I haven’t got anything good to say about the old bastard. How was his funeral, by the way?”
Dom simply shrugged in response. “Let’s talk business.”
With another snort of a laugh, Isa pulled out her phone and started going over a list of the day’s imports. The ships had come in on time, and their guys on the docks were already warehousing their “product,” storing it until it could be shipped throughout Luxor.
“So, we finally received those luxury cars we’ve been waiting for, two weeks late, but that’s the Southern trade route for you. Same shipment had a few crates of unprocessed opium—”
Dom cut in with gritted teeth, “Make sure that goes straight to the labs. Apart from heat suppressants, I don’t want to see that shit on my streets.”
“Already done.” Isa hardly even glanced up from her phone. “The independent Omegas of Luxor are already thanking you. You truly are a hero, Dom, providing them with suppressants and saving them from their dreaded heats. Less mating means more working. Off your backs and on your feet. That can be your campaign slogan.”
Dom eyed Isa, trying to gauge her level of sarcasm before gesturing for her to carry on with a short huff of amusement.
“What else?”
“Firearms from the mainland,” Isa said before listing off the models and manufacturers. “About half of this shipment is being sold to the Sun family in the south. They’ve got an underground trade problem on their hands.”
In the south of Luxor City, the Sun family controlled the majority of the city’s ports, but only imported from the Second Continent, across the western seas. This made them an excellent trading partner for Dom whose eastern ports shipped to and from New America. Whenever the Southern Empire wanted products from the New American mainland, Dom was their man, and when he needed Second Continent shipments, he knew just who to ask.
“All right.” Dom stood from his chair, rubbing his hands together. “The agent from the Sun family will want to see the guns before we truck them over. I’ll call—” Dom stopped abruptly when a terse shout erupted from the streets below, loud enough to resonate through the glass window and into his fifth-floor office.
“What the hell was that?” Isa asked with a furrowed brow.
Dom walked over to glare out of the window. They were right above the lobby, so a glance down offered a clear view of the ground below.
Across the street, a young man stumbled along the sidewalk. Even from the distance, Dom could tell there was something off about him. He swayed with each step, unable to keep to a straight line and using one hand to balance himself against the wall of the opposite building to keep from falling over.
He disappeared into an alleyway, followed closely by another man. This much larger man was the one shouting furiously as he marched into the narrow passage after the boy.
Dom turned from the window and grabbed his coat. Without a backward glance, he stormed out of his office.
“Dom? Hey! What the hell was that?” Isa repeated as he passed. She tried calling after him again, but he was already out of the door.
Sasha Hope is a lover of story, art and design based in Canada. As a writer and an artist, she enjoys having the opportunity to create new characters and build new worlds for readers to explore. Having studied linguistics and a myriad of languages from a young age, she is passionate about including characters of different backgrounds in her work. Whether the setting is fantasy or reality, she believes that a diverse cast with diverse languages and cultures is a wonderful thing.
Crafting stories that embrace MM romance and erotica is her modus operandi. When she is not creating new worlds she is travelling this one looking for inspiration or enjoying her career in the videogame industry.
Carter A.M. Salinger
(Twilight Falls #2)
Publication date: January 31st 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Carter’s carefree, movie star lifestyle comes to an abrupt end when he becomes the guardian to a little girl he has never met before. Will his hot new neighbor Elijah prove to be the one thing he and Maisie need to make their family whole?
Carter Wilson has it all. A dazzling career, fame, fortune, and women falling at his feet. All that changes the day he becomes the guardian to his newly orphaned niece. When he moves to his hometown of Twilight Falls to give Maisie the stable life she deserves, the last thing Carter expects is a hot neighbor who is soon making him wish for things he has never wanted before.
After abandoning a promising career in Europe to fulfill the vow he made to his grandmother, pastry chef Elijah Davis is determined to make his new bakery business a success. What he doesn’t need is a distraction in the shape of the hunky movie star next door and the little girl who is fast worming her way into his heart.
But when an old flame chases Elijah to Twilight Falls and a bitter movie producer threatens to expose Carter’s secret bisexuality, both Elijah and Carter realize they will have to fight dirty if they want their relationship to survive.
Discover Carter and Elijah’s story in the bewitching second novel in Twilight Falls, the new series by the author of the bestselling, contemporary romance series Nights.
Carter Wilson closed his eyes and groaned as he came in the mouth of the woman who was busy blowing him. His fingers clenched in her perfectly-styled hair, messing it up. He knew it would likely give away what they’d been up to, but he didn’t care.
A hiss of air left him when she finally let go of his pleasantly spent cock. The blonde sat back on her expensive Jimmy Choo heels and licked her lips greedily as she gazed up at him, her blue eyes sultry with lust and her nipples hard where her breasts showed in her gaping cleavage.
Carter reluctantly tucked his dick back in his tuxedo trousers.
If he’d had a condom on him, he would have pulled her to her feet, yanked up her thousand-dollar Dolce & Gabbana dress, and fucked her against the wall of the art gallery’s restroom stall until she screamed in pleasure.
He’d unfortunately used the last rubber in his wallet in his trailer yesterday, after he finished shooting what he hoped would be his next Hollywood blockbuster movie in New York. He’d known that the assistant he’d been given by the studio had had the hots for him all along, but Carter never liked mixing business with pleasure, not after the unpleasant incident that had nearly ended his movie career prematurely. So he’d waited until the last day of filming to give her a parting gift, which was his dick in her mouth and her hungry pussy.
Most people called him a bastard and a serial womanizer, a reputation that was only rendered more infamous by the paparazzi who constantly tailed him. Carter didn’t mind. He knew the career he’d chosen meant sacrificing his privacy and, as far as he was concerned, his conscience was clear; he’d never made false promises to the women he’d slept with, always used protection, and had been upfront about never wanting to be in a serious relationship.
There were only two aspects of his life that Carter protected jealously: his family and his hidden bisexuality. The first had been surprisingly easy to keep under wraps, since his only living relative had left the small town they’d grown up in some years back and was now halfway across the world.
As for the second, although there were plenty of gay actors who’d come out in the business in the last few decades, Carter knew his status as an action hero and the opportunities that might come his way in the future might be affected if he were to reveal like he liked to fuck men as much as he liked fucking women.
On the occasions when he felt like dick more than pussy, Carter visited an exclusive club in L.A. where all employees and guests were made to sign non-disclosure agreements. There, he had his pick of the male clientele who habitually called upon the club to satisfy their own secret desires. Carter had been hesitant to join up at first. But after hearing the club rules dictated all visitors wear close-fitting carnival masks to conceal their identities and that there were private suites where guests could indulge in their wildest sexual fantasies, he’d signed on the dotted line and never regretted it since.
“I think it’s about time we got back out there, don’t you?” Carter told the blonde with a relaxed grim.
She hesitated before returning his smile with a lingering look of regret. Carter knew she would brag to her closest friends about tonight. It wasn’t everyday she got to suck the cock of a A-list Hollywood star while her husband was entertaining their guests fifty feet away.
Carter waited a couple of minutes after she vacated the restroom before stepping out into the service corridor at the rear of the art gallery. He stilled when he saw the woman leaning a hip against the wall in the shadows, her arms crossed rigidly across her body.
Izzy Batista’s green eyes were dark with exasperation and there was a distinctly unhappy moue on her pretty face. “Please tell me you didn’t just fuck the gallery owner’s wife?”
Carter’s lips tilted in a teasing smirk. “It depends on your definition of fuck.”
Izzy swore. “For Christ’s sake Carter, can’t you keep it in your pants for one goddamn night?!”
Carter strolled up to her and rested his shoulder casually against the wall, mimicking her pose.
“Normally, I would say yes,” he drawled in a sarcastic tone. “But, you see, a little mouse with brown hair and green eyes blackmailed me into coming here and I just had to, you know, blow off some steam.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “It’s only for a couple of hours. Besides, your agent said you didn’t have anything lined up for tonight.”
Carter frowned. “I did have something lined up. It was called an evening spent relaxing in my own home for the first time in three months.”
Izzy gasped and raised a hand to her lips, an expression of mock horror painted across her face. “OMG! Is this the first sign that Carter Wilson is getting old? Would you like me to get you slippers and a hot cocoa kit for Christmas?”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” Carter muttered.
Izzy grinned and tucked her arm through his elbow. “Now, why don’t you be a good blackmail victim and come along peacefully. We’re about to do the big reveal.”
Carter grunted and allowed her to guide him to the main gallery area.
Izzy was the younger sister of Wyatt Batista, one of Carter’s closest childhood friends from his hometown of Twilight Falls. Together with Tristan Hart, Hunter Thomson, Drake Jackson, Miles Martinez, and Alex Hancock, they’d formed the “Terrible Seven”, a name that had struck dread in the heart of parents, teachers, and law enforcement for the decade and a half they’d grown up together in the quaint tourist town in the San Bernardino Mountains.
It was Izzy who’d sneaked in the boy’s locker room when Carter and the others were in high school and taken the infamous picture of his naked butt, which she had threatened to use to blackmail him on many an occasion since.
Though Carter knew it was in jest, he still worried about Izzy. The woman was the devil incarnate when it came to poking fun at her friends, and Carter wouldn’t put it past her to one day find a picture of his sixteen-year-old ass plastered over a billboard in L.A.
A dull murmur of voices reached them as they turned a corner and entered the gallery. Tonight was the opening night of Finn West’s first art exhibition in over three years and the whole town was buzzing with the return of the famous artist.
Although Carter had reluctantly agreed to headline the guest list, he had to admit to being more than a little intrigued once Izzy explained the circumstances behind her request.
It turned out Finn was Alex Hancock’s husband of a few months.
Carter’s gaze found the happy couple where they stood with the art gallery owner next the central piece of the exhibition, which still lay hidden beneath a white sheet. Finn had seemed tense when Carter had met him on the red carpet at the beginning of the evening. He now looked like a totally different person and could hardly keep his eyes, and his hands, off the man next to him.
A twinge of jealousy stabbed through Carter as he observed Alex’s radiant expression. It was evident to anyone in the room that the pair were very much in love. He wondered if he would ever find that kind of connection one day, or if he was doomed to a life of brief sexual encounters.
Carter had yet to meet anyone who had held his sexual and intellectual interest long enough for him to consider them as a potential life partner. The women who entered his life seemed more interested in having a movie star as a boyfriend than in who he was as a person, while the men were one-night stands whose faces he wouldn’t recognize if he passed them on the street.
He smiled blankly at the art gallery’s owner’s wife as he walked past the couple and let Izzy lead him to Finn and Alex’s side. Alex greeted him with a hug and a hearty pat on the back and Carter found himself feeling genuinely happy for his friend as he embraced him. They’d all been through some rough times together before he and Alex left Twilight Falls and it was great to see Alex’s eyes devoid of the guilt he’d carried for so many years.
The central piece of the exhibition was finally revealed to wild applause. Carter took his leave an hour later and headed out of the back door to the parking lot. He’d just climbed inside his Maserati when his cell started ringing. He took the phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen.
It was an international number. One he didn’t recognize.
The first tendril of dread pooled inside Carter as he gazed at it. He hesitated before taking the call. “Hello?”
“Is that Mr. Wilson? Mr. Carter Wilson?” a woman said in a heavy French accent. “The next of kin of Louise Payton?”
Carter’s stomach clenched in fear. “Yes, it is,” he finally managed, mouth so dry he was surprised he didn’t croak.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Wilson,” the woman continued in a voice filled with compassion, “I’m afraid there has been a terrible accident.”
A buzzing noise filled Carter’s ears. The words the woman was saying reached him dimly, every syllable a knife that stabbed into his heart.
In that moment, he knew his life would never be the same again.
Author Bio:
Ava Marie Salinger is the pen name of an Amazon bestselling author who has always wanted to write scorching hot contemporary romance. In 2018, she finally decided to venture to the steamy side. NIGHTS is the first of several sizzling series featuring sweet, sexy men with dark pasts and a whole lot of love to give to the ones brave enough to fight for their hearts. When she’s not dreaming up hotties to write about, you’ll find Ava creating kickass music playlists to write to, spying on the wildlife in her garden, drooling over gadgets, and eating Chinese.
Want to be the first to know about Ava’s new releases and get access to exclusive content, sneak previews, sales, and giveaways? Then sign up to her Reader Group here and join her VIP Facebook Fan Group here.
