Category Archives: Excerpt
Indecent Exposure by Faye Avalon
She’s gotten herself into hot water, and the heat just keeps on rising.
Gina McKenzie didn’t make the same mistakes her mother made with men. She just made different ones. Like letting a good one get away—and trusting a bad one to keep her kinky tastes private.
With an ex-lover holding a naked bondage video over her head, she’s forced to reunite with an old college crush to get the dirty on him. Back then, she resorted to humiliating Mitchell Coleman to keep her heart safe. Now she has no choice but to compromise him in the worst possible way.
When Gina walks back into Mitchell’s life and starts seducing him, desire wars with suspicion. Last time this happened, she tossed him to the wolves. If she’s going to serve herself up on a plate, he intends to make her see exactly what she missed by rejecting him all those years ago.
But Mitch soon realizes that Gina has an agenda other than heating up the sheets—and this time he’s not going to let her play him for a fool.
Samhain Publishing: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5441/indecent-exposure
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1GjHubG
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1OyItYZ
“Your place or mine?”
He gave her one of those long appraising looks that set her pulse racing. “I keep searching for the hidden message here.”
She shrugged and hoped to heaven her casual manner was convincing. Especially since her stomach was now doing serious somersaults. “I find you attractive. I’d say it’s reciprocated, unless I’m no longer an expert at reading men’s signals. And we’re both adults. Neither of us are in a serious relationship. Why can’t we act on our impulses?”
“Where do you live?”
Hell, this was really going to happen. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. She pushed away her half finished meal, her throat tight. “Putney.”
“My place is nearer. Chelsea.”
With her heart beating out of her chest, she glanced away. Could she really go through with this? Could she do this to him?
Before she could question that further, he huffed out a laugh. “Seems you’re still playing the same games.”
She looked back at him. “Meaning what?”
“Coming on to me, but backing off every time I get close to taking you up on what you’re offering. The one consolation is at least this time I can read the signals.”
To hide the fact he hadn’t entirely missed the mark, she shook her head. “And still I don’t know what you mean.”
“Signals. Signs.” Raising his wine glass, he nodded toward her lap. “I’ll bet your knees are clamped so tightly together right now, I wouldn’t get between them if I tried.”
Deliberately, she relaxed her knees. “Maybe I’m worried you’re planning to get back at me for stealing your pants that time.”
His eyes sparkled, but she couldn’t be sure if it was with humor or wicked intent. “I’ve forgiven you for that. Despite the humiliation you caused me.”
“Huh. Some humiliation. I bet your friends slapped you on the back for almost getting me naked, before assuring you I wasn’t worth worrying about.”
She knew she had a reputation in college. That she led most of the guys on before unceremoniously dumping them. But despite her frivolous reputation, she never slept around.
“Most of them called me an idiot for letting you get away with it so easily, but they didn’t know what I knew.”
“What was that?”
He pursed his lips. “My theory. About you.”
“I think you’re all talk. You always were.”
“And you’d know, of course. Seeing as you’re an expert on women.”
“I know my way around them.”
She bet he did.
Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property development, public relations and education, before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.
Faye lives with her super-supportive husband and they regularly expand their family by boarding puppies destined to become guide dogs. Between writing, reading, running around after manic puppies and grabbing some quality time with her husband, Faye enjoys relaxing with a calming yoga session or spending a night at the movies.
A keen yoga enthusiast/teacher, Faye loves to travel, follow F1 motor racing, decorate the house when the mood takes and, of course, hit the keyboard at every opportunity to write. She holds a BA in Humanities and MA in Education.
Seven Dirty Words by Charlotte Howard (@shy_tiger) #erotica #romance
Paige Holmes hides herself in a masculine world in a desperate attempt to remain safe.
Just as she is ready to face her fears and her past, she finds herself torn between Matt Jackson and Vance Ellery: handsome, rich, and safe – or handsome, rich, and dangerous?
Which will she choose?
The one who appears to be the most perfect, or the one who makes her use all Seven Dirty Words?
Tirgearr Publishing: http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/seven-dirty-words.htm
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1ExJtUx
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1dy702q
A couple of hours later, I woke to the sound of male voices chatting and laughing in the room below mine. I stood carefully, straining to hear the topic of conversation. I caught the words “money”, “sport” and “pavilion,” and knew instantly that TDS was in my childhood home.
Suddenly, I yearned to see him again. But, glancing in the full-length mirror by the door that led to my en suite bathroom, I saw that I was in no fit state to be speaking to handsome older men.
Dishevelled was an understatement. My hair resembled a bird’s nest, my eyes had purple rings underneath them, and the stench of sweat and sickness leaked from my pores.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, switching on the shower and letting the water run until it was almost scalding. My body trembled with a cold that only I felt. A hot shower was desperately needed. Before long, clouds of steam billowed over the top of the glass doors, informing me that it was time to cleanse away the illness that stuck to me like goosegrass.
About the Author and links
British author, Charlotte Howard, was born in Oman and spent much of the first part of her life flitting between Oman, Scotland, and England. Now settled in Somerset, Charlotte lives with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets.
Her career as a writer began at an early age, with a poem being featured in an anthology for the East Midlands. Since then Charlotte has written many short stories and poems, and finally wrote her first full-length piece of fiction in 2010.
During what little spare time she has, Charlotte enjoys reading and writing (of course), spending time with her family, and watching action movies whilst eating curry and drinking tea.
Charlotte is an active member of Yeovil Creative Writers Group.
Before the Rain By JoAnne Kenrick
Before the Rain is book five in Fated Desires’ multiple author series of stand-alone stories. In JoAnne’s addition to this series, a sworn-off-love Southerner escapes her failing life in Georgia and flees to the UK for a three month ‘no men allowed’ sabbatical where she unwittingly falls for the rustic charm of Rose Farm and its Welsh owner.
Three fiancés in three years makes Zoe Chantilly’s relationship column for the Georgia Times her only semblance of commitment…that is until her dating advice takes a dive down the Suwannee and she’s fired.
Unemployed and single, she leaves the sweltering heat of the south and heads to the UKfor a man-free break from life. The plan? Get with nature, write a novel, and be alone. Be very much alone. But nature has other plans for Zoe.
Navigating the backcountry roads of Wales seems just as complicated as her love life. A near-collision hones her desires in on Dylan Mostyn, a Leo seething with a raw prowess and macho magnetism the Aquarius in her can’t resist.
This Welshman is as arrogant as he is gorgeous. He’s also her landlord. The undeniable and thunderous attraction between them pinnacles during a karaoke duet at the village fete, but what starts as a no-strings fling quickly spirals toward dangerous ground.
Publisher: Fated Desires.
Flame Rating: Three
Setting: North Wales, UK
Genre: Small Town Contemporary Romance
Tropes: Vacation romance, Opposites Attract
Release date: July 21st 2015
Available to add to your Goodreads TBR list
More on the multi-author Tempting Signs Series with Fated Desires: http://fateddesires.com/2015/01/01/coming-soon-tempting-signs-series/
Present Day, August 1, 2015
“Dwi’n caru ti,” he rasped in Welsh, rounding out his vowels and sharpening his Rs.
Uh-oh. Dylan Mostyn only slipped into his native language around Zoe when he was horny.
He entwined his fingers with hers, his gray stare fierce yet his touch gentle.
“Did you hear me, Chantilly?” he prodded, his voice low and gruff with his own brand of rustic charm and raw macho energy. “Dwi’n caru ti…I love you.”
Ah, heck, how was she supposed to resist him now?
Like a teenager about to get her first-ever kiss, she quivered, her knees knocking together.
Damn him for being so…so…so British. With his sexy accent and his Hugh Grant hair flop and Gerald Butler’s down and dirty swoon factor. And his dimples. Gah. If she wasn’t so weak-willed, she’d squeeze in one last wham-bam before heading back to the States.
Who was she kidding? A quickie wouldn’t sate her needs. Not anymore. What had Wales—what had Dylan—done to her? Love, a four-letter word she dreaded. In all her thirty-one years, she hadn’t truly loved anyone. Had she inadvertently fallen for him? Truly fallen for him? Like head-over-ass and giddy-in-love fallen for him?
“You can’t leave.” He edged her against the wall of the farm-style kitchen in the stone cottage, his chest pressing against hers. “Not yet.”
“Umm.” Between his hard body and a stone wall, Zoe dodged his lips by leaning to the left and pointing to the whistling kettle atop the gas stovetop. His masculine scent with subtle hints of amber and musk enveloped her and melted her a little more.
“Do you love me?”
About JoAnne Kenrick
JoAnne Kenrick is a multi-published author who writes both contemporaries and paranormals. She was born and raised in a wee seaside town in North Wales, and has traveled far and wide. In true Brit form, she is a teaholic.
She now lives in North Carolina with her very own British hero, where she creates ever afters with a backdrop of those wonderful places she’s visited. Come across the pond and faraway…with JoAnne Kenrick.
For more about JoAnne and her books, please visit her website: http://www.joannekenrick.com
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Veronica: Fragrant Courtesans Book One by Siobhan Daiko
“So fragrant and delightful do I become, when I am in bed with someone who, I feel, adores and appreciates me, that the joy I bring exceeds all pleasure, so the ties of love, however close they seemed before, are knotted tighter still.”
Venice, Italy, 16th Century.
Trapped in unhappy marriage, Veronica uses her wits to escape and takes the only other option open to her. After learning the art of seduction, she becomes a courtesan and gives herself to many rather than being owned by one.
A talented poet and writer, she courts the cultural élite for fame and fortune.
But when disaster strikes and her life begins to unravel, will she finally give her heart to a man? And will she be strong enough to hold her own in a man’s world?
Advisory: Sensuously erotic, 18+
Universal buy link
Siobhan Daiko is an author of romantic historical fiction and a new series of erotic novellas featuring famous courtesans – strong women who held their own in a man’s world. A lover of all things Italian, Siobhan lives in the Veneto region of northern Italy with her husband and two cats. After a life of romance and adventure in Hong Kong, Australia and the UK she now spends her time, when she isn’t writing, enjoying the dolce vita near Venice.
Facebook, Twitter @FCourtesans
Don’t forget to enter the contest at the end of the post for a chance to win a six month Kindle Unlimited Subscription from author Liz Crowe. Blog tour is sponsored by Goddess Fish promotions and you can find the whole tour schedule HERE
About Vegas Miracle by Liz Crowe
Ryan and Grace Sullivan have all the outward indications of a happy life: money, success, an undeniable physical attraction that quickly evolved from whirlwind relationship to marriage. But lately, Ryan’s become moody and distant. As their relationship starts to crumble, Ryan discovers something about himself he can’t admit just as Grace realizes the young man she encounters at an invitation only party, Henri Christophe, a celebrity chef with the most successful restaurant in Las Vegas, is her husband’s lover. But Henri holds a secret himself. He wants to be more to both of them.
As they attempt to make their unconventional arrangement work, Ryan’s deep-seated fear of relationship failure continues to thwart everyone’s happiness. When he finally walks away instead of confronting the emotional connection the trio shares, he returns to find their lives flipped inside out. A sought after hotel and resort consultant, Ryan has yet to meet a problem he couldn’t solve. But when it comes to his own heart, he may be too late.
Her skin prickled with exposure to the cool air as his strong hands moved slowly up both legs. Henri focused on her hips, kneading out tension she always held there. But the innocent nature of the moment was long gone. The sensation of his strong hands on her made her want to lift up and expose herself to him. If he didn’t watch it she was going to come right here against this silly massage table.
“Let’s turn you over,” he said as he held the blanket up modestly, which made her chuckle. He’d been close enough to finger her a few minutes ago and she wouldn’t have stopped him either so why the sudden propriety now?
She lay on her back as he sat next to her and took her arm on his lap, working through her shoulder tightness. When her fingers brushed up against what was an unmistakable hard on under his shorts, she gasped and pulled her hand away.
“Sorry,” she whispered, mortified.
Henri put her arm back in place so he could continue to work his way down to her hand, which he caressed finger by finger and into her palm in a way that caused her breathing to quicken.
When he closed his lips over her index finger and sucked, her entire body zinged in response. He paid the same careful attention to each digit and ended with a light lick to the center of her palm, nearly sending her over the edge.
She was panting by the time he switched over to her other arm. She left her hand in his lap and brushed her fingers ever so lightly across the silky fabric of his shorts, just to see how he’d react. He shifted closer to allow her more contact and she stroked his full length twice before he took that hand to give it the same thorough and firm caress. By the time he closed his lips over her finger again, nothing prepared her for the fire of emotion and pure need his lips and tongue ignited.
Henri placed her arms under the blanket and passed a very light hand over her nipples, now hard buds of flesh poking through the fabric. Her breath came in shaky gasps by the time he uncovered one leg and propped her foot against his naked chest. She gaped at his amazing muscle definition as he bent her knee to flex her hip. With each bend, his arm came in direct contact with her bare pussy.
Henri kneaded the flesh of her thigh before moving down to rub each toe, then the sole of her foot, which sent those same zinging, nerve rattling sensation straight up to the top her head. She stretched her hands over her head and allowed the blanket to fall away. Eyes closed, she reveled in the pure sensation of his touch. By the time he switched over to her other leg and placed her foot on his chest again, a low moaning sound had begun in in her throat and had to force herself not to grab him and pull him on top of her. He stretched her knee towards her chest.
“You’re very flexible, yes?” His voice was hoarse.
“Yes,” she breathed, tilting her hips up to make contact with his arm.
The last time he bent her knee she felt his tongue flick her nipple. She realized he was pulling the sheet off her completely and she gave no resistance. Raising her arms up over her head again, Grace stretched like a cat in the windowsill.
She heard him make a sound deep in his throat before he ran his strong hands from her shoulders down to her nipples and across her stomach. He stopped to knead her hips once more then kept moving down her thighs to her calves and then to her sensitized feet. She arched up and gasped as she felt his tongue again, this time right on her clit. He teased her flesh then sucked briefly before standing up.
Grace kept her eyes closed, her body was on fire, every nerve ending crying out for more. But he seemed to be done so she struggled up to a seated position.
“”Would you like a bit more? An internal massage, perhaps?”
“Yes,” she nearly yelled out then felt herself blush. “I mean…that’s sort of a lame line, though.”
He chuckled. “I’ll work on my lines a little, after this.” His low, accented voice made her shiver.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction hybrid, “Romance. Worth the Risk,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”).
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.
Beer, Books, and More Blog: http://www.brewingpasssion.com/
Facebook Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor
Facebook Chat Group: http://www.facebook.com/groups/lizcrowefans
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Liz-Crowe/e/B00573TC7M
Beer Blog: http://www.a2beerwench.com/
Sign up for Liz Newz: http://eepurl.com/JRue5
Don’t forget to enter the giveaway at the end of the post for a chance at a $25 GC to Amazon or Barnes & Noble. Virtual Tour is sponsored by Goddess Fish Promotions. You can find all the tour stops HERE
Way to Go by Mandy Colton
Veronica Lane works in the travel industry in her dream job when she experiences a hellish travel day ending in the loss of her job and stranded far from home. To make the situation even worse, she drowns her sorrows in the hotel bar, and wakes the next morning to a big surprise.
Gathering up the remains of her dignity along with her travel bags, she returns to her hometown in Peachtree City, Georgia. A community similar to a progressive Mayberry, except with golf cart paths and carts. A lot of them. Her family is kooky. The parents are sexually free and liberal, her brother is a golf cart cop with more good looks and brawn than brains. Her grandparents, one from each side, live in the same retirement community and maintain a constant battle while entertaining the other senior citizens. The Grandmother on her dad’s side is stuck in the 1960’s, and the Grandfather on her mother’s side served in WWII and thinks that the Japanese are still trying to kill him.
She calls inquiring about a job in the newspaper, a group escort for a small tour company in Atlanta. She is hired immediately and leaves the next day with her first group to Jamaica. First, she meets a handsome pilot with the charter airline they use, and then there is one unusual group participant that doesn’t seem to belong. He leaves the group for periods of time and when things happen, he uses MacGyver like skills to get them out of the situations. She is aggravated and knows something is fishy and the bad thing is, the man is very charismatic and she’s not just a little attracted to him.
Upon their return, she finds out that the man is friends with her rather unconventional boss and after a second unusual group excursion to Puerto Rico; she knows for sure that the little tour company in Atlanta is not really what it seems on the outside. When the truth is revealed, she finds herself unintentionally dropped into a new career that she can’t exactly add to her resume.
Veronica finds herself in uncomfortable and hilarious situations, surrounded by crazy tour participants, family, friends, neighbors, and pets. After a long dry spell, she finds that there is suddenly an overabundance of romance, drama, and intrigue in her life. Her life is now a sometimes very bumpy, yet exciting ride.
I was dreaming about Gremlins, an old movie I’d watched years ago as a kid. The little critters in the movie were really cute, until they got wet and then multiplied and wreaked havoc. Somehow they’d gotten in my head and dragged a hot tub in with them, having some twisted version of a frat party. That’s when my dream turned into a nightmare—fur balls popped as the creatures multiplied, wiggling and wallering around squealing. All the bouncing around and commotion started to nauseate me. My subconscious pleaded with me to wake up and just make it stop.
When I finally opened one eye and turned to look at the clock, a line of drool followed me. I smacked at my lips, grimacing at the strange taste in my mouth, and looked down at my pillow. Yuck. I seriously slobbered in my sleep?
Nice, Lane. Can’t wait to look in the mirror.
I swiped my hand across my mouth and slowly opened the other eye. Looking down, I waited a few seconds for my vision to clear. No nightgown. Drooling and naked. Not good signs. Blinking a few times, I looked around the room.
I closed my eyes and declared in my head that I was still having a nightmare. I would open them again and just be curiously sitting here naked with a hangover. That’s all. One, two, three…
I opened one eye. Aww, fuck—I mean, fudge. What did I do? Uhn…probably did just that.
There was a man in my bed.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Mandy Colton is from Louisville, KY, and lives a very quiet life with her husband and teenage son. She’s a fan of romance, fun adventure stories, and some occasional sci-fi or paranormal thrown in. Veronica Lane and the idea for her adventures came from her own experiences and career working in the travel industry.
She claims that working in the travel business could be horribly stressful but was equally laugh-out-loud funny at times. She enjoyed many priceless and comical experiences with groups, friends, and peers. Even her clients shared humorous adventures of their own. Her opinion is that there just are no better stories than those that involve true life.
Subscribe for notifications on future new releases! http://www.mandycoltonfiction.com
Don’t forget to enter the contest at the end of the post in order to win this great prize:
Eric will award one randomly drawn commenter a signed copy of the book, plus a $25 Amazon gift card (US/Canada only) and a second randomly drawn commenter a signed copy of the book (US/Canada only). Find all the tour stops at Goddess Press Promotions
Story By Tess Cooper
Thirteen words in a want-ad turn Tess Cooper’s world upside down after she signs on as a paranormal research assistant to the mysterious Davin Egypt. He reveals a world of grave robbing, clockworks artifacts in blue amber, antique revolvers that fire strange ammo, and powerful forces beyond human comprehension.
As ancient occult energies threaten to destroy her city, Tess must use her journalistic instincts to stay one step ahead of the public works director, Drew Dawson, whose agenda seems bent on destruction rather than maintenance. And possibly murder, but will anyone believe her?
Yeah, right. When garbage trucks fly.
If Tess teams up with the hunky police lieutenant, Kirk Gunther, and the pale, oddball Mr. Egypt, they might be able to save the city in time. That is, if Egypt even wants to. And if Tess overcomes her phobias long enough to do battle in Granddad’s 1983 Subaru Brat.
Things are about to get icky.
I almost smiled. “I’m thinking I probably can’t take on this new job. I don’t think it’s for me. At the same time, I don’t know if I can work for a gutless newspaper even if they don’t fire me. There’s so much going on. I don’t know what to do. Hell, I don’t even know what I want to do anymore.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about it after tonight.” He lifted a slip of paper from the table beside the window.
“That lotto ticket you bought. The drawing’s tonight.”
“I didn’t buy a lottery ticket.”
Granddad shrugged. “It was in the bag with the snuff and the coffee creamer. I asked for French vanilla, by the way, not that hazelnut crap.”
I’d forgotten about it. “Oh, that. I didn’t buy it. I found it.”
“Don’t matter. If you sign the back, the ticket’s yours.” Granddad put the slip back on the table and sank into the recliner. “Yep. We’ll be living it up, come tonight.”
“One less thing to worry about,” I agreed.
“Speaking of one less thing to worry about, you could do worse than that Davin Egypt.”
I searched for words for a second. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, I get why you wouldn’t want to work for some half-assed pet psychic. But the guy’s got dough. Plus, he’s tall, thin, a sharp dresser. I’m no homo, but I figure the gals probably like a guy like that.”
My own personal conception of Egypt was lanky, bony, and dressed like an undertaker, circa 1961. “You’re serious? And, please, don’t use the word homo in public, okay?”
“I got nothing against homos. Let people do whatever the hell they want. No skin off my nose. I’m just saying, the guy is well spoken; he’s polite, and you two seem to get along good. The way you’re talking, it sounds like you need to get a life. So go get one.”
“Okay, listen up, Granddad. Davin Egypt doesn’t own a car. As far as I can tell, he owns one suit. He lives in a church. He set up a Christmas tree in our kitchen, a tree that looks like a mental deficient on LSD decorated it. He doesn’t have a computer. Hell, he doesn’t have a phone. The guy is an absolute, total weirdo.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Newspaper founder, bookstore owner, artist, musician, and man-about-town Eric Turowski writes lots of mixed-genre books when he’s not too busy playing laser tag with Tiger the Cat and his fiancée Mimi deep in the Central Valley of California.
You can learn more about Eric at http://www.ericturowski.com.
Connect with Eric online
Out Now – The River’s Embrace by A. Silenus
With her blond tresses and blue eyes, London fabric retailer Margery “Margie” Tull is used to being admired. When she’s hired to decorate a riverside manor house though, she suspects ulterior motives.
Lord of the manor Percival Winstanley reveals a long ago love triangle leading to death and the bewitching of his son and heir Stephen. Margie’s cousin Shyan is supposed to protect her. But he’s lured away by Winstanley’s cougarish housekeeper, Mrs. DePlessey, leaving Margie in the dubious care of servant Kern.
Unsure whom to trust, Margie turns first to artist Raphael Watts, also working at the house. Meanwhile Stephen hovers in the background trying to draw her attention to a cottage across the river. Somehow the women who live there are a portent of Margie’s fate. If only Stephen can convince her of what lies in store Margie can give new hope to the manor and its heir.
Margie crept from the hall to the library and back again. It was the strangest thing how people either were not there when they were wanted or were breathing down your neck and scaring you out of your skin. There seemed no middle way in this house.
She would have to go upstairs. It was the obvious place to look. She started climbing steps, feeling like an intruder and unsure how she would explain why she was snooping around the house if she did find someone. A snigger told her she was on the right track. Tiptoeing across the landing and down a passage way, she homed in on the intertwined voices, Shyan’s wisecracks and Mrs. DePlessey’s purrs of appreciation.
Through the gap between an open bedroom door and the jamb, Margie watched unobserved. Shyan was standing on a foot stool wearing only underwear. Evidently measuring requirements had reached the upper thigh. A crouching Mrs. DePlessey’s glistening nails trailed a tape over the city boy’s pale flanks. Shyan’s muscles tensed as her fingers neared the straining material of his briefs.
“Am I tickling?” The question was made to sound guileless, like a dentist asking “Am I hurting you?”
“Well a bit,” Shyan said. “But it don’t bother me.”
I’ll bet it doesn’t, Margie thought. She was so mad at him. Had he forgotten why he had come? Not to dally with the housekeeper, that’s for sure.
The waistband was the next number on Mrs. DePlessey’s list, and as her arms circumnavigated Shyan’s midriff with the tape measure she could not refrain from rubbing the bangles on her wrists against his bare skin. The metal must have been cold, because Shyan jumped slightly at the touch.
“Oh, I am sorry. Did I do that?”
You calculating bitch, Margie wanted to shriek. She’d seen better acting on the soaps.
But there was nothing simulated about Shyan’s reaction once the tape made contact at the base of his spine. Margie didn’t have to see below his waistband to know his self-control was on the edge. It wouldn’t take much to unbalance him.
All it did take was another move in Mrs. DePlessey’s repertoire of suggestive contact. As her breasts prodded his stomach, ostensibly so she could complete the tape loop, Shyan’s hands descended onto her shoulders. Then the tape was forgotten as her lips came up to meet his. Her clasping arms steadied him on the wobbling stool. They moved to the bed in an uncoordinated tango, and toppled into a grinding embrace. Shyan tackled the buttons on her blouse. His hand groped for the bra clip at her back. He suckled on an inflamed turret of a nipple, with a gusto equal to Ainsworth’s effort during Margie’s previous spying escapade. Then the couple’s hands met and, steered by one or the other—or both—glided in unison down the crevasse between their bodies until they disappeared inside Shyan’s briefs.
Margie was mesmerized. Exasperated as she was by her cousin’s easy compliance, she couldn’t help being fascinated by this mesh of desires. That was why it was so startling when Mrs. DePlessey rolled Shyan to one side and, with a light kiss on the lips, told him, “We must save this.”
Shyan gaped and attempted to insert a hand between her closed thighs.
“For what?” he asked.
She smiled, not in the provocative way Margie half expected, but rather as if Shyan hadn’t understood.
“In time,” she said. “In time.”
- Silenus spent his early years in southern England and now lives in Arizona. He writes in various genres under different names. His erotica-oriented material includes three self-published sets of short stories, Fiends That Go Boink, which has otherworldly themes, Obsessions and Two Men And A Woman In A Boat.
Other stories have been published in anthologies, ezines and magazines, including Afternoon Delight (Cleis), The MILF Anthology (Blue Moon), Wicked Pleasures (Ravenous Romance), and Forum magazine in the UK.
For more about Silenus and his work, please go to his blog: Basic Writes: http://asilenus.blogspot.com/
Reconciled for Easter by Noelle Adams
Abigail has been separated from her husband for almost two years. After a marriage that brought her only insecurity, she seeks a life now of peace and independence with their six-year-old daughter. Thomas wants to put their marriage back together, because he liked the wife he used to have, but she never wants to be that person again.
She might need his help with their daughter and start to enjoy his company again, but she just can’t trust him with her heart. Even when she discovers that her heart still wants him for a husband.
She looked perfectly respectable for dinner and the symphony for a work function—and nothing like the plain, shy girl she used to be—so she grabbed her purse and headed to the living room.
“Ooh!” Mia squealed at her arrival. “Mommy looks beautiful!”
“Thank you, sweetie.” Abigail ran her hands down her skirt absently, feeling suddenly self-conscious at Thomas’s steady gaze. His face showed no expression, but she knew he missed no detail of her appearance.
“Just in time,” Thomas said, glancing at his watch. “Seven o’clock. I didn’t know you took such long showers.”
Abigail felt her cheeks burning, but she managed not to react in any other way. There was absolutely no way Thomas could know what she’d been thinking about in the shower. “Thanks for coming over early to sit with Mia while I got ready,” she said, pleased when her voice sounded natural.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but it will be late since we’re going to Dalton.” She glanced outside and saw headlights turning into the driveway of her little bungalow. “That’s Jim. He’s picking me up, and then we’ll pick up the Seymours.”
“I see.” Thomas’s voice was strange, but she didn’t know why.
“All right,” Abigail said in a rush, feeling anxious and self-conscious and at loose ends. “You be good, Mia. Obey your Daddy and go to bed when he says. Eight o’clock.” She said the words with a certain significance to remind Thomas of the girl’s bedtime. “And you can read until nine.”
“I know, Mommy.”
“There are snacks in the kitchen,” Abigail went on. “And I’ll have my phone on vibrate the whole time, so just call me any time if you need me.”
“I know, Abigail,” Thomas said, his mouth twitching up a little.
“Okay.” She glanced down at herself to make sure she had everything she needed. Then she told Mia, “I’ll give you your goodnight kiss now, since you’ll be asleep when I get back.”
She leaned down to kiss Mia, and she was about to leave when Mia said, “You didn’t give Baxter his kiss!”
Abigail hurried back over, flustered by the way Thomas’s eyes never left her face. She kissed Baxter. “All right. You be good and have fun.”
Then she kissed Mia again. “Mommy loves you.”
“I love you, Mommy.”
Rushed and thoughtless, Abigail moved to give Thomas a quick kiss on the lips in sequence. “I’ll be back after midnight probably.”
With a last wave, she left the living room. As she was reaching for the handle of the front door, she heard Mia’s giggle rippling out from the other room.
She paused, wondering what had prompted her daughter to laugh like that.
Then Abigail realized.
She’d just kissed Thomas. On the lips. Without even thinking about it.
With a gasp, Abigail whirled around and took a few steps back, with some sort of half-formed notion to try to explain.
But she caught sight of Thomas and Mia on the couch.
Mia was shaking with merriment, her hands covering her mouth. And Thomas had one finger to his lips as he smiled at his daughter, in the universal signal to keep quiet.
Overwhelmed with confusion, Abigail fled.
It was no big deal. She’d just been in a rush and hadn’t been thinking. Mia probably thought it was funny. She couldn’t let it bother her now.
It had been a really long time since kissing Thomas had been natural.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.
She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances.
It’s Halloween and Lucy’s husband Graham has once again disappeared with his red haired mistress. But, before Odessa’s rendezvous with her beloved, she does the unthinkable and takes her daughter–the child fathered by Graham– trick-or-treating at Lucy’s house.
Lucy is a distraught until she gets another unexpected knock on her door. It’s Mark Lewis, her husband’s co-worker and the one man she’s never been able to resist.
What’s the harm in just one more illicit night with Mark? Lucy deserves that much, or does she?
Excerpt: (general audience)
Lucy peeled the wrapper off another chocolate and decided she’d take off her stupid store bought witch’s costume, pour herself a good stiff drink, and call it a night after reading just one more chapter. No, on second thought why wait on that drink. She poured a gin and ginger and then plopped back down on the couch with her book.
The heroine’s breasts were heaving in excitement over finally seeing the hero’s steely shaft when Lucy was rudely interrupted by that damn doorbell.
She sighed and placed the open book on the side of the couch, quickly adjusting her pointy witch’s hat before opening the door.
“Trick-or-treat!” A chubby little butterfly grinned up at her.
“What a beautiful costume.” Lucy dropped one of the good chocolates in the little girl’s plastic pumpkin treat bag.
“My Daddy says I’m the prettiest butterfly ever.”
The child’s bedazzled butterfly wings and rhinestone studded leotard and tights definitely weren’t off the rack from the five and dime Halloween aisle. Someone had put a great deal of work into crafting the perfect little girl butterfly attire. Lucy dropped an extra candy in her pumpkin. “I believe he’s right.”
“Thank you,” the little girl chirped. “Are you Daddy’s maid?”
“Excuse me?” Lucy stammered.
The little girl tilted her head and looked up at Lucy as if she were harshly judging her store bought witch’s attire. “Mommy’s more pretty than you.”
“Prettier, I’m prettier.” A tall redhead stepped out of the shadows cackling like a witch. “That’s enough, Amalie. Thank the nice lady and go on to the car.”
“I already did thank her,” the little girl said, staring up at her mom.
Lucy’s smile evaporated as the redhead pulled off the mask and they locked eyes. This wasn’t just any redhead, this was her, Graham’s mistress from across the bay.
Standing there barefoot, Lucy guessed the woman to be even taller than Graham. If not for her height, she would have been nothing more than a wisp of a girl in an almost sheer chiffon buttercup yellow gown that clung to her lanky frame. She was all hair and long legs with her red curls falling every which way in swirls of crimson.
So, this was the infamous Odessa and Graham’s illegitimate daughter; the child born from an affair with her husband. Lucy searched the little girl for traces of Graham and her breath caught in her throat when she recognized the hawkish deep-set eyes behind the mask. The child wasn’t blond and she didn’t have Graham’s dimpled smile. But, there was no denying the fact that from what she could see the little one bore a striking resemblance to Graham’s mother. She had his mother’s muddy brown hair and half-hearted smile.
“Amalie, go to the car,” the redhead repeated.
Lucy watched the little girl turn and go to a car she recognized all too well. There was no mistaking the custom gold paint job of the Mercedes that had once been owned by her husband. The child hadn’t flitted like a butterfly and she didn’t slam the car door. She moved with the same self-conscious manner that often left Lucy feeling like she’d been tiptoeing over eggshells, never doing anything exactly quite right.
Odessa smiled as she brushed away a strand of red hair, and Lucy saw the platinum band on the other woman’s ring finger. That took some nerve, faking a bond that didn’t exist. Not when it was her name beside her husband’s –‑ Graham and Lucille Edwards –‑ on the marriage license and a gorgeous two-carat ring on her own finger.
A searing heat still crept across her chest all the way up to the tips of her ears. Why at this moment of all moments, when confronted by the little trollop, did she have to have a damn hot flash? Mother Nature’s nasty way of reminding her of the years she had on the much younger other woman.
Lucy took a deep shaky breath and looked right into the redhead’s too green eyes. “You’ve got some nerve.”
“I most certainly do.”
“Slow down,” she shrieked, and not from pleasure. “You’re hurting me.”
“What’s the matter? I thought you liked my big dick.” He stopped moving and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. “I’m sorry you’re used to Graham’s puny little wee wee.”
She pushed away his arms, barely moving until her pussy adjusted to the girth of his cock. “Let’s leave Graham’s dick out of this.”
“As tight as you are, I’d say he hasn’t gotten anywhere near your pussy since the last time I had it. Four years is a long time to go without getting any from the wifey.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s closer to four months than four years.”
“If I had a wife as hot as you I’d be hitting it every night I came home.”
His hand went to her sex and she started to relax as his fingers expertly maneuvered to just the right spot. She closed her eyes, rocking back and forth on his dick while his fingers rubbed away her inhibitions.
“I’m guessing he still couldn’t find your clit even if I drew him a map.”
Lucy slapped him across the face. She looked at her stinging hand, as surprised as he’d been by the blow.
Still working her clit, he used his other hand to pinch her nipple. “You want to play rough?” he asked, “I’ll gladly oblige.”
She tilted back her head, savoring the quick jolt of pain. That pinch unleashed something in her. She ground harder against him using his cock for her own satisfaction. His dick might have been a dildo for all she cared, and she used it as if it were. He seemed to approve, meeting her thrust for thrust, while still working over her clit with his finger.
Lucy leaned forward offering him her breast. He teased her at first, taking her right to the edge by lapping at her tits before biting down into the pale flesh of her left breast just below her heart. It was as if something snapped all the way to her very core. It wasn’t just an orgasm it was an awakening of sensations.
She froze for a moment, so in awe was she of how damn gorgeous he looked lying there beneath her. Their first time he’d been baby faced and handsome in a way that made young fans swoon as he battled her evil husband and his even nastier brother. By then she’d stopped going to the matches with Graham, but she’d occasionally watch the highlights on TV, drawn to the all American good looks of the man who fought her husband in the ring. She knew enough to know that outside the ring they all got along. She wasn’t that naïve after all, but she enjoyed that suspension of disbelief as much as any fan buying a ticket to the matches.
Mark smacked her ass, urging her to keep riding his cock. She gladly obliged, trailing a hand across the plain of his chiseled abs as she arched her back and subdued him with the strength of her sex. There wasn’t anything boyish about him anymore. As he’d matured into his thirties his body had taken on a harder edge and he’d bulked up with more muscle. It wasn’t just his body, Mark had a tough mysteriousness about him that Graham had never possessed.
It had to be that drink, she thought as she marveled over just how beautiful Mark had become. Sex with him had always been amazing. But this, this was sensation to the extreme. She could almost feel her lust for him pulsing through her veins. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Nothing. It was all so very real, yet totally unreal.
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About the Author:
Jezebel Jorge is a practicing witch, medium, and a Reiki light worker. She describes her genre as Witch Lit – Sizzle and spice and some things Not so Nice.
Unlike most authors, the Voices running amok inside her head are sometimes spirits reaching out to tell their stories from the other side. Ghosts like to embellish just as the living, but there is usually a bit of truth entwined within her fictional stories.
She lives in Nashville, TN with a spoiled rotten Golden Retriever / Great Pyrenees mix named Harry Potter and Odessa, a very vocal Spirit Guide with an affinity for snakes.