On life, the universe, and coffee.
Oh yeah, and books...
**this is an 18+ blog!**
On life, the universe, and coffee.
Oh yeah, and books...
Happy Sunday! Hope you're all having a great weekend. I'm not, I've finally fallen victim to the germs infesting my house for the past month between hubby and the kids, and I'm pretty sure I'm headed to the doctor on Monday. sigh....
Anyway, this week's spotlight is another great Allyson Young book, Undone by Destiny. It's part of her Blue Star Shifters line, and as always, it rocks. :)
Desiree lost her heart to Tahl before he moved away, pursuing a redheaded shifter. Devastated, she somehow managed to hope he got what he needed. Except, being part Fae, she now believes she’s cursed him. Tahl has returned, unmated, refusing to share what transpired.
When Tahl pursues her, realizing what she has always meant to him, Desi desperately avoids, her guilt—and refusal to be second choice—a deterrent to her heart. Her twenty-fifth birthday approaches, and hot from the chase, Tahl corners her. He triggers her heat and she must allow him to assuage it, however outraged and resentful she might be.
The redhead follows Tahl, refusing to accept his mating—he can’t be bonded should his mate die... The males fail to thwart the nefarious plan, and the true nature of both females is revealed. Only one bitch can win and keep Tahl’s heart, and Desi won’t lose.
Now that he was here, he was stalling, and he grimaced. Nothing much scared him, but the female presumably inside the cabin… He forced his feet to carry up the short set of stairs and opened the front door with a confidence he didn’t feel. Until he saw her.
Huddled on the couch, facing him, was his future mate, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—or scented. Cheeks flushed, hair now streaming in wild abandon and clothing awry, she glared at him, her rage muted by the trembling need radiating from her tense body.
“Baby. I got here as soon as I could. I—” His attempt at an apology was overridden as Desi lurched to her feet.
“It’s not fucking fair that I have no recourse in this, Tahl. It’s a done deal because you decided. You. And now I’m stuck with you. I have to submit to your … physical attentions so I can function.” She laughed, a harsh mimicry of her usual, musical burst of sound. The one he hadn’t heard in his vicinity for a very long time but had never forgotten. The dichotomy scalded his senses.
She stood, her body shaking, the hormonal flux pouring off of her, and he balled his fists to keep his hands to himself. A vastly angry Desiree was an incredibly beautiful and appealing female and his wolf seethed with impatience against her siren call. Tahl shoved his animal back and cudgeled his brain for something that would soothe her. Some sense of self-preservation kept him from offering his heart. It was quite likely she’d carve it out of his chest and eat it with a spoon.
His breath stuttered as with awkward, jerky movements, she yanked at the front of her silky shirt, the fine fabric rending beneath her impatient hands. She threw the remnants in the general direction of the couch before working at the zipper on her little skirt. The garment slid over her thighs to pool around her ankles, his avid stare tracking it as the black lace of her matching panties was revealed as well as the long length of her legs. She stepped out, nearly losing her balance, and kicked the material away.
This was so not how he imagined it. Throat dry, he closed the distance. “Desiree. Easy, baby. Let me—”
“You’ve done enough, Tahl,” she coughed out between shuddering breaths. “Now do what nature intended.” Her pretty bra popped open and her breasts were displayed. Sitting high on her narrow torso, they were in perfect proportion to the rest of her, though visibly swollen with need, the dark nipples beaded tightly.
Everything in him screamed to take her right fucking now, his cock so hard it hurt, his wolf groveling. Groveling. With inner strength he somehow drew from somewhere, perhaps his conscience, maybe his aching heart, he wrestled his libido into submission and hugged her instead. Trying to offer her comfort. His eyes closed against the intense draw of her soft, silky skin, the heat of her radiating intensely to the very marrow of his bones.
Desiree wrestled free, wild-eyed and flushed. Surely no other male would have been so fucking stupid as to trigger his future mate’s heat on the side of a goddamn highway and then leave her unfulfilled? He cursed himself again.
She scrabbled at the fine stuff of her underwear and it met the same fate as her shirt. Tahl drank in his first sight of the female who was his, all creamy skin and smooth curves, the soft dark hair at her apex neatly trimmed. But she was shaking harder, out of control, the scent of her arousal overwhelming him, and instinct took over.
With economic movements, he stripped off his own clothing. Desiree swayed, her eyes tightly shut as she panted through the tiny whimpers falling from her lips. He spoke her name even as he gathered her up and bore her down on the wide, soft couch, but she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—open her eyes.
There was no time, or need, or foreplay. He’d left her too long. Testing her preparedness with one finger, he grunted his satisfaction. Soaked. Her thighs opened wide for him as he maneuvered between them, her arms splayed and her head thrown back. She writhed, her wolf clearly right at the surface, and her whimpers escalated both in volume and quantity.
Recognizing the time for fucking couldn’t be put off by conversation, however necessary, he fit the weeping crown of his cock against her opening. Wet, sultry heat engulfed him as he surged inside on a desperate thrust. And froze at her muffled yelp.
“Fuck me, baby. Fuck. Me.” He wrapped her up, working his arms beneath her shoulders to tuck her as tightly against him as he could manage while holding his cock steady, giving her time to adjust. It was his turn to screw his own eyes shut in order to concentrate on not moving one fucking iota. He’d just taken her virginity, and even his wolf paused in its desperation to claim her.
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/undone-by-destiny-by-allyson-young/
Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. She worked in the human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her high school yearbooks too! After reading an erotic romance, quite by accident, she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.
Allyson will write until whatever she has inside her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.
GUYS. I am SO excited about sharing this one with you!!!!
Author Gail Hart has a new release out, Her Magic Touch. I've been lucky to know Gail for several years now, and she is my editing goddess when I need to cut words and just get to the damn point. Seriously, she cut a few hundred words from In Self Defense for me in order to get under word count so I could make the limit for Evernight's Romance on the Go line when I couldn't figure out what else could go.
She's got a great story here that I was fortunate to read as a beta, and I think you'll love it.
Thank you for having me, Loralynne—and for being a beta reader for Her Magic Touch!
I wrote the “ugly first draft” of Her Magic Touch during National Novel Writing Month in 2012. After that, though, I put Sarah and Matt on the back burner to concentrate on my first published romance, Confessions of the World’s Oldest Shotgun Bride. Then this spring I dug the manuscript from the deepest recesses of my computer and got serious about whipping it into shape, and on October 18, almost exactly five years after I wrote the UFD, the book went up for sale on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. Print and iBooks versions are still in the works.
Her Magic Touch is a light paranormal romance with sprinklings of magic, snark and steam. I hope your readers will enjoy it!
Sarah Talbot is trapped in a life at odds with her free spirit. She wishes she had the guts to chuck the business world for something more creative. Until then, she’s eager to explore her newfound gift for casting spells. Too bad the hunky bartender who gets her all hot and bothered has had his fill of hocus-pocus.
Abandoned by his teenage mother, ex-Marine, personal trainer, and part-time bartender Matt Lucas grew up in the loving but chaotic home of his aunt, a quirky local witch. He longs to buy his own gym, meet a sensible businesswoman, and build a secure, conventional life. The last thing he wants is to fall in love with a witch.
Can love conjure the magic these two hearts need to thrive?
Barnes & Noble: https://tinyurl.com/ydfjhchz
Createspace (print): https://tinyurl.com/ycqaaoys
Sarah Talbot had a makeshift doll, she had a match, and her boss had left her psyche wrecked and raw.
“I call on the forces of the universe to smite you, Jay.” She touched the match to the voodoo doll she’d fashioned out of cocktail napkins and held the doll over the congealed remains of her nachos.
She had always thought of herself as a sensible person—not some lunatic who’d set fire to a voodoo doll in a bar full of suits during happy hour. But desperate times justified a little craziness.
The flames licked up and devoured the doll.
Stuart Black, the Caldwell Foundation’s General Counsel, sat across from her in the Coastal Zone bar. A man in his thirties with a professorial air, his eyebrows rose into an are-you-on-crack expression. “I can’t believe you did that. Who’d think an heiress to the Talbot fortune would be a pyromaniac?”
“You dared me to torch him.” Sarah dropped the smoldering doll onto the nacho mess.
“True, but I didn’t think you’d do it. Girl, you have a mad on today.”
The lilt of his voice made Sarah giggle. “You sound gayer than a Project Runway contestant. That’s not like you. Usually you come across as hetero as a linebacker. The stress level at the Foundation must be getting to you too.”
“It is. I needed a laugh.” He gestured toward the center of the room. “But your crush isn’t laughing.”
Sure enough, Sarah’s favorite bartender was bearing down on them, the look in his eyes lethal. And lovely eyes they were, the deep, bottomless blue of a mountain lake. Okay, that was a cliché, but looking at this man robbed her brain of oxygen. Especially since the eyes came with shining collar-length brown hair and shoulders broad enough to fill any doorway.
“Oh shush.” She ignored her increased pulse. “I don’t even know him.”
“But you want him.” Stu wiped her chin with a nacho-stained cocktail napkin. “Stop drooling.”
The bartender dumped a container of Margarita salt onto the smoking doll. One arm was charred but otherwise the salt had saved the doll. “Jesus! What are you trying to do, burn the place down, get me fired, or both?” His tone was rough with annoyance. “Pull a stunt like that again and you’ll have to find another place to drink. Lots of people would be happy to snap up your regular window table.”
“You’re no fun.” Sarah’s voice sounded slushy even to her. She was only on her second Lemon Drop, but the alcohol was already fuzzing her judgment. Probably because she was so eager to get drunk. Nothing else stood a chance of making her feel better—other than the bartender with the bodacious biceps. Too bad he looked beyond pissed off.
“We’re sorry.” Stu dropped all traces of the drag queen. “Our joke got out of hand.”
“Yeah, we had a hard day and needed to let off a little steam. Well, steam, fire… same difference.” Sarah burst into more giggles.
Stu leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You’re not helping.”
He only had a few years on Sarah, but his scolding tone reminded her of her father. Ignoring Stu, she pushed her tangle of red hair away from her face and licked her lips. “We won’t do it again—cross my heart and hope to die.” She drew a hand across her chest, purposely drawing his gaze to her boobs. She wasn’t above using her D cups to draw the bartender’s attention away from the stupid doll. She’d learned in middle school that guys would forgive a lot if she flaunted the girls.
The bartender’s expression didn’t soften. “Just don’t do it again.”
“We won’t…” Damn it, why couldn’t she remember his name? She looked at the gold name badge on his tuxedo-style uniform. “Matt.” She smiled, hoping for seductive over sloppy, and thrust out her chest and hand at the same time. “I’m Sarah.”
Up close, Matt’s eyes were even more mesmerizing. She’d never met anyone with eyes that shade of blue. And they were fringed by amazingly long eyelashes. What a cruel injustice to waste them on a man.
“I know. You told me before.” Matt shook her hand, his grip firm but not bone-crushing. Skin made contact with skin, and Sarah’s palm tingled. Too bad he didn’t give any sign he’d noticed her reaction.
“Just behave yourself.” He let go of her hand and his gaze flicked to the charred remains. “Who were you burning in effigy, anyway?”
“Ah. Understandable, but please, the next time he pisses you off, leave your matches at home.”
“Yes, sir.” Sarah flashed him a mock military salute.
Matt turned and walked back to the bar. As they watched his tight backside cross the room, Sarah and Stu sighed in unison.
Before becoming a writer, former Romance Writers of America Golden Heart contest finalist Gail Hart spent a few years as an Air Force JAG, then settled in as a lawyer and manager for the US government. Despite what opposing counsel sometimes said about her briefs, she didn't write any fiction until later in her career. She must have been destined to be a romance writer, though, because even the law review article she wrote had "sex" in the title. She spent most of her life on the east coast but now lives in San Antonio, where she doesn't miss the cold.
Happy Sunday all! Today, I'm happy to share with you a fantastic series. Lynn Burke's Risso Family series is full of some freaking hot sex, and even hotter characters. Here's a look at No One Until Her, book #6 in the series which revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.
No One Until Her
Risso Family #6
Erotic Romance / BDSM / Menage
By Lynn Burke
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Release date: January 12, 2017
Kaden Quinn has life by the balls and enjoys his side job as a Dom in a downtown Boston BDSM club. What he doesn’t want—or need—is a pseudo-sub trying to shred the veil that protects his painful past.
When untamed Livi Risso's insatiable need to get to the bottom of a story leads her to an exclusive kink club, her curiosity ignites upon meeting a restrained Dom who refuses to touch her.
Kaden feigns disinterest while scening, but that doesn’t stop Livi from experiencing intimacy like she’s never imagined. When one misstep leaves Kaden shaken, will Livi be the one to break down his wall against love?
“What’s your name, sub?” I asked.
“Li … Lisa.”
I narrowed my gaze and stared down at her. “If you say so, Bella.”
“Bella?” Her head tilted to the side, her eyes slightly widened. “Is that a compliment?”
“You’re Italian, aren’t you?”
“Then that’s what I’ll call you.” A light flush spread across her high cheekbones and she bit her lower lip. Goddamn cock sprung to full attention. “First thing you ought to know—and should have learned long before entering this club as a sub—your gaze belongs on your Dom’s boots, your knees on the floor.”
The bulge in my leathers snagged her attention as her head lowered and she hesitated. A shudder rippled down through her, but she sank to her knees with practiced ease, a waft of subtle sweetness, what had to be expensive perfume, floating around me. My mouth watered. Long, glossy dark hair cascaded around her downturned face. Her shoulders remained back and straight.
Trying to ignore the press of my goddamn zipper into my cock—and prickle of unease tingling the back of my neck—I glanced across the room at Devon, one of the few Doms who didn’t mind switching.
He lounged in a chair, drink in hand, but otherwise unoccupied. Bella’s appearance had already drawn his attention. He gawked like a starstruck lover at the goddess kneeling at my feet.
The idea of sharing the tasty morsel of a pseudo-sub twisted my gut, but the thought that touching her skin would definitely cause trouble overrode my Neanderthal side.
As though feeling my stare, Devon lifted his gaze to mine.
I quirked a brow in invitation.
He shot out of his seat with a shit-eating grin and strode across the room. He stood a good half-foot shorter than me, but we both had blue eyes, the same light hair, and square jaw… We’d enjoyed our fair share of women fantasizing about brothers.
“Master Devon, care to join us this evening?”
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/no-one-until-her-by-lynn-burke/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/One-Until-Risso-Family-Book-ebook/dp/B01N0ZYXPH/
About Lynn Burke:
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.
Find Lynn on her website, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads.
My muse decided to show up again finally!
I went on a bit of a reading binge, which usually works when I'm struggling to get words on the screen. So even though the weather has maybe, finally, started to turn to more appropriate fall temps, I'm ditching the editing on my vampire series because I'm going full bore on my wolf shifters. I'm well into book number two (at about 6500 words right now, with a goal of 12k), and I've gotten vague ideas for a book three in the North Woods Wolves. So YAY! :) Each book will be able to stand alone, with connections to the others.
Here's a little (unedited) teaser for you: (warning, this book is m/m...)
Erik opened his mouth to speak, and Jordan silenced him with another kiss. Erik felt himself weakening.
“And besides all that,” said Jordan. “I've agreed to be Cassie's Beta when dad steps down. You've agree to be Kieran's. It's a non-issue.”
“It's really that simple?”
“Yes. Now hush, little wolf. I have to get back to Stone Point lands before the sun rises and I don't want to spend all my time here talking.”
As if to emphasize his point, Jordan's cock rubbed against Erik's as they drew together once again. Erik let out a soft moan.
“We can do this here, or somewhere more comfortable.”
“Jordan, I haven't...”
“And you don't have to. Not until you're ready. But there's no reason we can't explore what's got you dried all over your stomach.”
Heat burned Erik's cheeks as he blushed furiously.
“Nothing to be ashamed about, little wolf.” Erik gasped in shock when Jordan's hand encircled his cock. “Tell me,” Jordan breathed into his ear. “What was I doing to you?”
“You, you were...” he couldn't form the words. That required higher brain functioning beyond the feeling of Jordan's hand slowly working his shaft.
“Was I on my knees?” Up.
“N-no,” he managed. Down.
“Were we in your bed?” Up.
“Shall we go there?” Squeeze.
“Yes,” he exhaled.
This Sunday I'm happy to share with you Beauty and Her Beast by Jessica Coulter Smith!
Maggie Miller has lived a hard life. She's been on the streets since the age of sixteen and has learned the hard way how cruel men can be. Despite the fact that she knows nothing is ever free, when alpha wolf Zach Drake offers her a hot meal and a place to clean up, she cautiously accepts. After not having eaten for days, the thought of food that doesn't come from a dumpster is too good to pass up, no matter the consequences. It wouldn't be the first time a man suggested she pay with her body.
Broken wolf Zach Drake is appalled to find the small, stuttering woman living in a box behind the town bar. With dirt smudging her face, she could be anywhere from barely legal to thirty, but none of that matters to the insistent wolf in his head that is begging him to take her home. The thought of anyone harming sweet Maggie is enough to send him into a rage, but he holds himself in check as he coaxes her into his truck and back to his house. It's the first time his wolf has seemed happy since they lost their mate twenty years ago, and Zach isn't ready to let go of the sensation just yet.
Zach snarled at the woman who approached him. It was a dark night for him, the one day of the year he dreaded most. Several buxom beauties had approached, but he’d sent them all running. Monster. Beast. He’d heard the whispers and didn’t much care. No one could understand the pain he felt every day. His brother and sister-in-law tried, but even they gave him a wide berth when he was in one of his moods.
Between the two brothers, Weston was the one everyone fawned over, the one ladies dreamed of when they lay down at night. Zach was the nightmare parents told their children, the story of how not to live your life. As alpha of his pack, he held his position more from fear than respect.
A braver woman than the others settled on the stool next to him and ran her finger down his bicep, a sultry smile on her lips and a world of promise in her eyes. She was attractive in a fake, made-up sort of way. Her hair was teased and styled to fall in chaotic curls past her shoulders, but the honey blonde of her hair was as fake as the rest of her, the dark roots a testament to the time she spent at the salon.
“What do you say you buy me a drink and we can get to know each other better?” she said, licking her lips.
“I have a better idea. You can take your hand off my arm and scurry your fake ass back over to your table of friends.” His eyes narrowed on her, and he showed a bit of fang. It was enough to make her blanch, and she nearly toppled from the stool as she ran away.
The bartender sat another beer in front of Zach.
“You’re going to scare off my best customers tonight. Any other night you’d have taken that woman up on her offer, hauled her into the alley, and had her suck your cock. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t.”
Zach shrugged. He wasn’t about to tarnish Delfinia’s memory tonight of all nights. Sexual pleasure was the last thing on his mind. He sipped at the cold brew in his mug. He really wasn’t the heartless bastard everyone thought. Zach loved his brother, and he loved his sister-in-law. In some way, he loved every member of his pack, even if he didn’t always show it. What he couldn’t do was fall in love, not ever again. Losing Del had killed part of him, and it was a piece that would never heal and never be replaced.
He tipped up his mug and drained every drop before slamming it down on the bar. Even though this was his favorite place in town to hang out at night, it just wasn’t the place to be right now. After a few days had passed, he’d come back, and he’d be in a better mood. Maybe then he’d be ready to take up the blonde’s offer and haul her into the alley like the bartender had suggested. For now, it was better for him to take his ass home and be miserable alone.
He could snarl at everyone in a few days just as well as he could today, but maybe his wounds wouldn’t be quite so painful then. Fake it ‘til you make it. Zach had lived every day of his life that way since Del had been ripped from his arms, and he’d continue down that path until he either became so nasty that the pack rallied to take him down, or until a miracle happened and some light finally shone in his dark world.
Anything had to be better than merely existing.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child. Her first stories may have been written in crayon, but now she's a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and spills over from her professional life into her personal one. When she went on that first date with her husband, she never expected to hear the words "marry me" pop out of his mouth--and judging by the shocked look on his face, he hadn't meant to say them either. But, being the hopeless romantic that she is, Jessica said yes and they've been married since 2000.
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It's a rainy day here. The remnants of hurricane Nate have turned upstate NY into a tropical zone, bringing warm temps and humid air to us in early October...I want my fall weather. I really want to work on my vampire stuff, but for some reason I do my best work on that in the fall/winter. I don't try to understand my muse at this point any more, lol. My stories/works-in-progress are seasonally driven, and when I embrace that things just work better for me. I learned a long time ago to not fight my muse if I want words to happen. :)
I haven't gotten any real work done since I finished up my piece for the Lawless Anthology (coming out in November from Evernight Publishing) in the beginning of September. Last week my husband had carpal tunnel surgery on his right (dominant) hand, so he's out of work for at least 2-4 weeks. At the same time, both kids have managed to catch head colds. I'm living in a sea of snot and clorox, lol. I simply do not have the time to get sick myself, and with my husband having the incision, I can't let him get sick. Since I'm basically caretaking for 3 people right now until hubby is able to use his hand more, I really don't know when I'm going to get any writing or editing done. I'm doing my best to keep up with blog posts for promos from fellow authors and pay attention to stuff for the anthology.
I'll keep you updated one the writing front! In the meantime, here's a little teaser from The King of South Side. :)
Hello! On this week's spotlight, I have Shari Elder and her futuristic sci-fi romance novel, Race to Redemption. Race to Redemption (Green Rising Book #1) is science fiction romance jam-packed with action, one panty-melting hero, sexy alien races, and a kickass heroine. In the story, a pilot and a doctor race across the desert to prevent a deadly plague while fighting the pull of their own hearts.
Damn, that's one sexy cover!!
A woman who lost everything.
Intergalactic storm racing champion Elaina Carteret had it all – fame, wealth, men – until a horrific accident took it away. To get it back, she agrees to pose as Lainie Carter, medical transport pilot and corporate spy. Her risk-taking attitude infuriates Dr. Erik Johansen, who runs the outpost with an iron hand, a permanent scowl and the tightest bod on the planet.
A man desperate for redemption.
Unable to forgive himself for a past tragedy, Erik works himself into an early grave. He has no patience for the insubordinate Lainie Carter, who can’t take an order, disrupts routine and flames his body to ash.
A planet at risk.
When the outpost is attached, they’re thrown together in a race across the desert to stop a deadly biogenetic weapon As a fragile trust blossoms between two damaged hearts, their pasts resurface and threaten their growing bond.
Be warned: anal sex, bondage, menage sex, gender neutral characters.
Elaina and Fintarl transferred the meds from the craft to the supply hut. This was her last stop today. Her routes varied daily her first month on the job. Someone was either trying to ramp up her knowledge of the terrain and facilities quickly, or prevent her from finding out too much. The collections of mysteries and snippets of information she’d gathered made her head hurt. All she wanted was a bath to wash away the stink of too much desert driving and a nap to give her mind a few minutes to turn off. Fintarl’s toothy scowl warned her that wasn’t on the agenda.
“Boss man. Want.”
She raised an eyebrow at the Ranharran and took a deep breath before heading to Erik’s office. He kept their exchanges to a minimum during her regular drop-offs at this facility. She was getting under his skin, she knew it. A meeting had to mean she pissed him off somehow. Good. It gave her another opportunity to ramp up the heat. Anger was close enough to lust to wedge open a door.
Shoulders pulled back, head high, she barged into his office. She’d always been good at bravado and she liked to keep him off balance. “Hey farm boy, you wanted me?” She flashed him a flippant smile to push the double entendre right into his face, and all she got was a grimace in return.
I’m only getting started, Dr. Johansen.
Settled on the mud blocks that passed for seats, she arced her back to offer up breasts wrapped to perfection in a tight white tank. The perspiration worked in her favor. It molded the top around her so she was as good as naked, maybe better. Her bare legs, firmed by countless hours in the gym, crossed in front to put all that toned flesh on center stage. Take a good long look, boss man.
Days of beard growth and a rumpled shirt signaled erratic hours and insufficient sleep. It seemed to have gotten worse since the last time she’d seen him. Was it only days ago? The world of secrets and hurt he dragged around on his shoulders was devouring him from the inside out. Why he avoided her when he could benefit from the physical release she offered confused her. He didn’t even have to like her to screw her. Still, he stayed away.
Erik pushed his too-long hair off his face with one hand and a package across his desk toward her with the other. The flicker of lust that darkened his eyes when she ran her hand from breast to thigh, he quickly buried. Droplets of sweat glistened along the carved muscle of his forearms. A tattoo—a yellow sphere sitting on a black line encased in a blue circle—peaked out from his shirtsleeve. Like Saskia. How odd.
“One of my better ideas, yes?”
“Ms. Carter.” Stiff formality. “On the job for a month and you’re already messing with the medical packaging? Until you show me a pharmacology degree, don’t do it again.”
“Seriously, Erik? It’s the Ranharran equivalent of string and paper. No harm done to the medicine, and I can increase the load by thirty percent. The more I move the better for everyone.”
“You’re missing the point.” He enunciated each word like it hurt to say. “The meds are volatile. Any shift, no matter how small… Damn it, Lainie, do you have any idea how dangerous this stuff is? You could get someone killed.”
“I’m trying to save lives.” Her eyes closed, she swallowed hard, trying to keep her frustration from spilling out. A raised voice wouldn’t get her very far. She already tried that. “I don’t get you, Erik. This compound is thirty miles from the Karas border. Your medical supply closet’s always running on empty, the transportation infrastructure on this planet is deteriorating and rumors that the Den Vedran Corporations are arming the Ranharran mercenaries are escalating. With unpredictable storms that can close transit corridors at any time, I’d think you’d welcome ways to move more medicine.”
His faced blanched at one point through her tirade, but was now back to its normal grim. “Not. The. Point. I won’t have my orders questioned by anyone. Without some discipline, I can’t ensure the safety of everyone under my protection. I’ll make it easy. Don’t tamper with my meds, or I’ll get a different pilot.” His lips thinned so tight they trembled. She wanted to kiss them calm after she beat him with a stick.
“You don’t want to get rid of me. Whose face would you use for target practice?” Her voice lowered, forcing him to lean closer. “And whose body would you think about when you jack off in those late hours when you’re crawling for relief?” She was guessing, but the way he struggled to suppress those flashes of longing when she got close to him convinced her she was on the mark.
“You’re trying to annoy me. Okay, it worked. No tampering, no arguments. Meeting over.” He ran his hands through his hair and pulled at the roots. His eyes looked haunted and decades older than his thirty-six years.
This was not about packaging or her rule-breaking proclivities. Whatever he kept sealed down tight was driving him to an early grave. Without thinking, she leaned over the desk and traced a finger along a blond eyebrow. He recoiled like he always did when she touched him.
“Yes, I do it to piss you off. You’re wound up so tight, farm boy, you’re going to snap.” Her finger slid down his cheek to his chin. “Let me in, Erik. I could help you reduce all that tension, but you stay so far away. So I poke.”
She pressed her breast against his arm to make her offer clear. “No commitment required. Just two people trying to get through the long, lonely nights.”
He pulled back. “I said we’re done here.”
She swallowed her anger and flipped him a bow. “Your highness. I’ll visit Sen and Qirta before I head back to Mendasa.”
Sen’s favorite treat were hidden in a secret pocket in her bag. What Erik didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
About Shari Elder
Hello, I'm Shari. By day, I crawl out of bed, mainline coffee, walk the dog, get my kid off to school, hop on the metro, and save cities within the four walls of my office. Usually by email.
At night, the other Shari emerges. I take off the suit, curl up on the couch and let my imagination play, with words and images until stories take shape (while periodically checking on my teen-ager, hiding out in the bedroom and plotting world domination). As my alter ego, I save cities in a cape and spangled tights, wander space and time on a surfboard, fly over the Himalayas on feathered wings, make six-toed footprints in indigo talc snow on the sixth planet in the Andromeda galaxy or eavesdrop on Olympian gods while pretending to whip up a bowl of ambrosia.
In all these wondrous worlds, romance and passion blossom. I can't resist a happy ending. And I am particularly prone to writing happy endings for those who have given up on ever getting one. That gives me immense satisfaction.
Join me on my journey. The best ideas emerge from team work.
I had the pleasure of meeting Casey a few years back at the Hot Mojave Knights convention out in Las Vegas, just before I published my first book and started on this journey. She and everyone I met were super kind and helpful, with lots of advice. And now she finally has a new book out that looks awesome!
Hello! It’s been quite some time since I’ve had a release, and now I can say all that’s changed. A big thank you for allowing me to visit today and share my story Transcending Fire. This erotic, futuristic, dystopian story based around different motorcycle gangs has had quite a journey to get to this point. Perhaps one day I’ll share the two-plus-year jaunt this story went through to find a home. Luckily, it finally has. Even with all the trials it went through, I still love this story. It’s one of my favorites that I’ve written, and one that I didn’t get tired of during the editing process either. Yay!
A man dealing with an Earth in chaos. A woman from an alternate universe hoping to find her destiny. Two motorcycle gangs and a real bad ass who wants to ruin everything. What’s not to like?
Hunter Macario wants one thing—a place to belong. When given an opportunity to solidify his position in the motorcycle club, Devil’s Thunder, he takes it.
Dragon’s Clan member, Safaia King, believes she’s found the man from her people’s legend and her dreams. She has one goal, even if he’s in a rival club—to make Hunter hers and keep him safe so he can fulfill their destiny.
After Hunter makes a huge mistake, he’s sent to where Safaia lives—an alternate universe called The Den. In this new world, sex, battles, and secrets abound. Hunter must survive The Den to right some wrongs or else he could lose everything he’s ever gained, including his home and Safaia’s love.
The flames’ mesmerizing dance, the macabre song created by the crackles and pops, and the smell of death kept Hunter frozen to his spot. He wanted to help, knew he should pick up a bucketful of water or a hose and join the fray, but his immobile legs wouldn’t budge no matter the commands his brain sent them.
There must be something in the smoke making me high. Either I really can’t move, or I’m losing my fucking marbles.
He tried again to step forward, but still couldn’t.
Ah, shit. I’m dreaming. Must be it. At least I hope that’s it.
As if in answer to his thoughts, the world around him seemed to slow, become more surreal than it already was. The noises minimized into silence, yet people still rushed around him as if he were invisible, their mouths moving without voices emanating from them.
Straight ahead, Hunter caught glimpses of a woman appearing and disappearing amongst the club members running back and forth in front of her. The ebony-haired beauty didn’t move. She stood there with a smile curling her lips.
A hot, lusty bolt of desire surged straight to his cock. Yet beneath the instantaneous sensation lay something deeper. Dreaming or not, Hunter couldn’t quite put his finger on what he felt, but words like “connection” and “destiny” wisped across his mind.
Their gazes locked. The lady winked and disappeared.
The compound, except for the fire, was as it should be—club house, church, garage, barracks, factory, and some ancillary buildings—but the sky wasn’t gray. The constant hum from all the robotics and other machinery functioning in the city wasn’t present. He’d grown so accustomed to the white noise, the sudden silence almost hurt.
Hunter shook his head, ran his palm over his face. Nothing seemed right anymore. The sky. The sounds. Even the air he breathed was different—lighter … less polluted.
No one came up to him to check on him. Nobody questioned why he wasn’t helping.
They all acted like he didn’t exist.
Maybe I really don’t exist here. Maybe I’m still back in one of those foster homes and my life in Vegas has only been a fanciful dream.
Nah. I’ve gotta be dreaming. I gotta…
“Wake up, Hunter.”
A weight bore down on Hunter’s shoulder, gripping his muscles like a pneumatic clamp.
Even in a hazy state of mind, his instincts took over. Years of martial arts training had him shrugging out of the hold and spinning into a neutral stance, ready to defend and attack if need be. No matter what home he’d ended up in, he had always requested lessons. The type of discipline never mattered. The fact that he was learning a skill and had something of his own no one could take away from him had been all that’d counted.
“Hey, boy.” Screw, an aging man, whose favorite way of dressing his scrawny body happened to be denim overalls, a bandana around his head holding back his stringy gray hair, and nothing else, held up his hands. “You know I’m a lover not a fighter.” He chuckled. “Too old and creaky to scuffle anyhow.”
Hunter blinked. Gone was the blue sky and fire. The mechanized hum had returned as had the obsidian night. He stared at the head mechanic and lowered his arms. Last thing he’d ever want to do was harm the man he viewed as a father figure. “Screw. What? What’s going on?”
“You tell me. You’re the one out here in your birthday suit.”
“Birthday suit?” He glanced down at himself. Sure enough, he stood naked in the middle of the compound. “What the hell?”
BUY Transcending Fire:
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/transcending-fire-by-casey-moss/
About Casey Moss:
Casey Moss delves into the darker aspects of life in her writing, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the light-hearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Casey-Moss/e/B0080RC9DQ
I've started a weekly feature!
Sunday Night Spotlight will highlight past releases from guest authors. To get us started, we have Elyzabeth VaLey with Reine's Salvation, the first in her Alpha Protectors series. :)
He’s the kind of man her mother warned her to steer clear from...
Mystique is happy with her current life, but for years she's struggled on a path of self-destruction. She knows she shouldn't get involved with the brooding hunk at the bar, but how can she stay away when his sorrowful gaze is so compelling?
Reine has lost everything: his wife, his friends, his ability to fight, and his identity as an Alpha Protector. There's nothing left for him except a world of anger and bitterness. At least, that’s what he believes until he meets an intrepid waitress.
The attraction between them is immediate, but while Reine can’t let go of his past, Mystique is not willing to return to hers. With darkness constantly closing in, will they find a way to be together? Or, will Reine's behavior destroy their future?
Reine sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure,” she agreed. She observed him for an instant. His eyes were closed. Her gaze traveled across his nose and over to his full lips. Damn it if she didn’t want to kiss him. She lay back down, trying to still her beating heart. “What would you like to talk about?” she asked.
“How about this insane attraction we’re both feeling?”
“What?” Mystique squeaked.
“You heard me.”
Mystique shut her eyes as she heard the rustle of his clothes. She didn’t dare open them.
“I haven’t felt so attracted to any woman in over two years, and from what you’ve told me, it’s been a while for you too.”
Eight years, she thought. She’d kept herself away from one-night stands and sex with others in general, afraid she’d become angry and bitter again if things didn’t work out. She played with her toys and enjoyed her body on her own. It had been enough, until Reine. He was driving her hormones crazy.
“Well, yes.” She licked her lips.
“Damn it, woman, do you know what that does to me?”
Mystique gasped as Reine’s lips brushed against hers.
“It makes me want to devour your mouth,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding breathless to her own ears.
“Don’t be. Look at me,” Reine said gruffly.
She opened her eyes and found his face inches away. The intensity of his gaze was like looking into a pool of flaming desire that threatened to consume her.
“Don’t think. It’ll make it easier.”
She didn’t have time to issue a protest as he lowered his head and kissed her. They both groaned as their lips melded against each other. His teeth snagged on her bottom lip, pulling slightly and making her body react like a fire alarm at the first hint of smoke. His tongue licked a path across her bottom and upper bow, and she eagerly opened up for him, needing to taste more. Her nipples hardened beneath her top.
Reine pulled her up into a sitting position and smashed his lips against hers. He possessed her mouth with his, not with strength, but with the ability of a man who knew what he was doing. His tongue delved deep, intertwining with hers. Mystique moaned. Her mind went blank, her senses taking priority over anything else. All she could do was feel the touch of his hand on her back, and the warmth of his mouth against hers.
Breathless, they both pulled back after a few minutes. Her hands trembling, she pushed a few strands of his hair away from his face. Reine kissed her gently. She angled her head and he explored her mouth at a more leisurely pace.
“You drive me insane,” he whispered. “This is not normal,” he insisted.
“I want to fuck you,” he groaned into her ear. He brought her hand to his cock. Eagerly, she stroked him over his jeans. Liquid rushed to coat her panties and a dull ache began to throb between her legs.
“And what are you waiting for?”
“I can’t. Not here. Not after what you’ve told me.”
“What?” She placed a hand on his chest and pushed back. “What do you mean?”
All Romance Ebooks
About Elyzabeth M. VaLey
Considered weird by normal standards – what is normal anyway?- Elyzabeth M. VaLey enjoys making up songs about mundane things, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper, talking to her Lab whenever he feigns interest and coming up with love stories to make readers dream.
From contemporary to historical or fantasy, she enjoys writing stories about good and evil, love and passion and all that comes in between happy ever after.
Stalk her at:
(Reine’s Salvation has its own inspiration board)