It’s always … interesting meeting your new sweetie’s family for the first time. When you have an unconventional relationship–say, lifestyle D/s–it adds a whole new level of awkwardness, as Kayla Lords demonstrates in the excerpt below. (I know, I know, I usually do the smutty excerpts, but I loved this one for the rich glimpse it offered of the characters.

Sir and Babygirl: Family Ties (Book 3)

Blurb:

Johnathan is ready to take his relationship with Katie to a whole new level. His kids are away at college, and his sister has moved out. After months together, discovering their love and a D/s relationship as Sir and Babygirl that works for them, it’s time to meet the extended family.

Will Babygirl be able to move past her own anxieties? Can they survive the expectations of their families? And what happens to Sir and Babygirl next? Find out in the third set of adventures between a loving Dominant man and his willing and eager Babygirl.

Price: $1.99

Word Count: 17,400

Purchase Links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/SBFT

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2033HE8

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1i8OcZ9

iBook: http://apple.co/1GDA9X7

Excerpt

“Johnny? Is that you?”

Babygirl quirked an eyebrow up as the corner of her mouth twitched with suppressed humor. Johnny? Sir shook his head in response. Don’t even think about it, little girl was the message.

“Yeah, Ma, it’s us.”

The rusty screen door opened revealing a petite elderly woman dressed in a purple peasant top and jeans with rhinestones running down one leg. Her flip-flops and toe nail polish were a perfect match for her blouse. Babygirl bit her bottom lip and looked around at the front porch. This must be his mother, Estelle.

“Come here and give us a hug, Johnny!” Looking at Babygirl, she smiled. “Is this her, Johnny? Is this your new love?”

Sir stooped down to hug his mom who quickly let him go and grabbed Babygirl, hugging her tight. Not a small woman herself, Babygirl had to bend down for the hug. When Estelle tried to kiss her cheek, Babygirl pulled back slightly, uncomfortable with such displays of affection from a virtual stranger.

“Well, come in, come in!”

The two stood on the front stoop for a second.

“Johnny?!” Babygirl’s whisper of disbelief was tinged with humor. “And where exactly is your mom from?”

Sir sighed. “Yes, Johnny, and Brooklyn.”

Babygirl giggled. “Okay, Johnny.”

As she stepped towards the front door, Sir grabbed her arm. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, “Do not call me that again. Ever.”

Babygirl sputtered a quick apology and pulled away to hide her hurt. Sir sighed and pulled her closer.

“Sorry, Baby- I mean, Katie. I hate that name, and my mother is the only one who can get away with it.”

She snuggled close, glad to know where his annoyance came from. “It’s okay, Sir, damn it, Johnathan. I won’t call you Johnny.” With a gleam in her eye, she said, “But I may be required to tease you about it from time to time.”

Sir’s soft growl was interrupted by the piercing voice of his mother.

“Johnny? Are you coming in or not? Eh, Johnny?”

Babygirl giggled. The sound was quickly followed by a squeak as Sir swatted her ass on their way through the door. “Watch it, girl. No matter what my mother calls me, I’m still your Sir.”

About Kayla Lords

Kayla is a full-time writer, sex blogger, erotic author, and babygirl submissive. When she’s not writing about BDSM from her perspective, she’s coming up with kinky sex scenes and waiting for her own Dominant to give her a much-needed spanking.

Follow Kayla on Twitter (@KaylaLords) or over at her website (KaylaLords.com) where there’s always something kinky to read.

Now available – Conviction, the third book in the Razia series! Catch up on this fun, sassy space opera about a wayward scientist living a double life as a space pirate bounty hunter.

Missed the first two? Pick them up on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Smashwords, and Kobo.

About Conviction:

Clink.

Razia is in trouble. Captured by a fellow pirate, she now finds herself back on probation with a bounty worth zero credits. In the cold reality, she begins to question herself and everything she has been working towards all of her life–and what she’s willing to do to reclaim her glory.

Piracy is a game. What do you stand for?

Buy now on

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

iBooks

Smashwords

Kobo

Sneak Peek:

Razia’s eyes snapped open and she grasped at the wall to steady herself. She stood outside the supposed poker game location, in a dimly lit alley that smelled like trash. There was something wet leaking from the bin next to her, so she didn’t dare sit down. She had fallen asleep against the dirty brick wall for a split second, but was now wide awake and ready for Loeb to come out.

The door remained closed.

Poker, she reasoned, must be Loeb’s chosen vice because he’d been there playing this game for over an hour. She wondered how many times he’d have to go to Temple to ask the Great Creator for forgiveness for this break in his piety.

She snorted at her own joke then burped a little beer. She rubbed her face roughly, hoping the increased blood flow would wake her up. She wished she hadn’t had that that third beer (or however many she had from Sage’s pitcher) at Eamon’s, she wished she had some coffee, and she wished Loeb would just get a move on already. She had other pirates to capture, and he was being awfully selfish with her time.

She jutted her lip out and stared at the door, and her eyes began drooping again.

Her mini-computer began buzzing at her hip and she jumped ten feet. Scowling, she answered it without thinking.

“What.” She blinked at the face looking back at her and for a brief moment saw Vel. With another shake of her head she realized it was Heelin scowling back at her. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” Heelin looked nothing short of livid. “The brother with whom you are supposed to be working.”

She grimaced. “Oh God in Leveman’s, I don’t have time for this.”

“Well you’d better make time, because this stupid planet was approved for membership, so Dorst wants me to accompany you on your next excavation.”

Excavation, what was that again? She rubbed her eyes, trying to make sense of the word. Slowly, her brain readjusted from a month of bounty hunting back to her life as Lyssa Peate.

Wait…Heelin wanted to go on an excavation with her? “I don’t think so.”

“I think that you have to since Dorst ordered you to.”

“I think that Dorst can get sucked.”

“What is with you lately? You look different.”

“I…what?” she said, looking down at the mini-computer.

“And where are you anyway? Are you in some kind of dark alley? Where are your glasses?”

Razia realized with a jolt of fear that she was, in fact, Razia and not Lyssa—her hair down, no lab coat, no glasses.

“Uh…gotta go!”

She ended the call quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t expect Heelin to recognize Razia from just a simple phone call. Unlike Lizbeth, who was sharp as a tack and made the connection almost immediately, the Peates seemed more eager to ignore that Lyssa ever existed.

Like Jukin.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, hating herself and her drunkenness for bringing him up. She still had no idea why she’d saved him. She’d told Lizbeth at the time it was because she wanted to believe he was a good person, but there was more to it than that. She was still harboring a little bit of guilt that she had been chosen as Sostas’ assistant, and not Jukin.

And perhaps she felt a little responsible for everything Jukin had done.

She belched loudly in the alleyway, ending the drunken philosophical train of thought. In some part of her mind, she wondered if it was a good idea to be out in her current state, but then again, she was simply stalking Loeb. He wasn’t going to surprise her and walk out…

Her eyes nearly fell out of her head as Jarvis Loeb exited the bar all by himself.

She braced herself against the wall, waiting to see if his body men were going to join him. Loeb got almost a block before she realized that he was alone. Whether this was some great twist of fate, or maybe some gift from the Great Creator, she didn’t know, but it was definitely an opportunity.

She nearly tripped over her own two feet as she barreled after him, the beer sloshing in her stomach uncomfortably.

“OI!” she called out, standing in the middle of the deserted street.

Loeb turned to watch her with an amused look on his face. “Hello there, dear. Are you here to capture me finally?”

“Sure am!” she announced, perhaps louder than she should have.

She walked up to Loeb, who seemed awfully sober to her, and she reared back her fist to strike him. But she was moving so slow—slower than ever—and Loeb easily ducked it. She lurched forward, her center of gravity completely off, and watched the pavement fly up towards her face.

Loeb’s hand clamped down on her wrist and she felt cold steel encircle it.

About the Author

S. Usher Evans is an author, blogger, and witty banter aficionado. Born in Pensacola, Florida, she left the sleepy town behind for the fast-paced world of Washington, D.C.. There, she somehow landed jobs with BBC, Discovery Channel, and National Geographic Television before finally settling into a “real job” as an IT consultant. After a quarter life crisis at age 27, she decided consulting was for the birds and rekindled a childhood passion for writing novels. She sold everything she owned and moved back to Pensacola, where she currently resides with her two dogs, Zoe and Mr. Biscuit. Evans is the author of the Razia series and Empath, both published by Sun’s Golden Ray Publishing.

Be sure to check her out on the below social media sites:

Website

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I write paranormal romances, which are full of supernatural activity, but I’m not exactly the Queen of Terror. You know when you’re reading a romance, everything’s going to turn out all right in the end. Frightening things may happen, there may be near-death experiences, and secondary characters may even perish, but you know the hero(es) and heroine(s) will get their HEA. It’s a law of the genre.

Fantasy’s a different game. Really awful things can happen in fantasy, and there’s nothing that says you can’t inflict these horrors on your main characters. (Anyone who watches Game of Thrones or has read the wonderful, but incredibly dark books by George R.R. Martin on which it’s based knows this to be true.)

I’m a romance writer at heart. As a fantasy reader, I was raised on Tolkein, where destruction is balanced by tremendous personal heroism. In the long run, I can’t write something something as downright tragic and horrifying as Mr. Martin. Yet. But there was something liberating about writing Blood and Lotuses, where I felt free to have bad things happen to good people and to get as explicit with violence as I usually am with sex.

Yet in the long run, this book is about the redeeming power of love, which makes a perfect Halloween read. Like the holiday itself, it’s frightening, but with a healthy side order of hope. (Halloween, after all, derives from All Souls’ Day, which is all about life after death and our connection to our dead ancestors.)

When love is outlawed, only the bravest lovers can defeat an inhuman foe.

A demon in the guise of a goddess is “purifying” the great city of Dakura by killing off its stores of love, desire, and beauty. Once the city is void of color and passion, the demon can claim the city for its base to conquer the whole mortal world.

Anchali, a priestess of the goddess of love and desire, infiltrates the temple of the false goddess, along with her reluctant guardian Thanom, a soldier whose wife was murdered in a demon-inspired purge. They’re hoping to get information to pass on to a rebel general who hopes to roust the cult from Dakura. What they find, though, tells them this isn’t a job for warriors.

It’s a job for lovers, using the power of passion to enact an ancient ritual.

Anchali can perform the ritual. But first she has to convince a broken-hearted man to love again.

Compared to that, defeating a demon is child’s play.

Warning: Contains more explicit violence and less explicit sex than usual in a Teresa Noelle Roberts novel, along with all the magic and romance you’ve come to expect.

Excerpt (showing some of that explicit violence):

In an almost-cool hour of the night, when the heat of one day had finally faded and the swelter of the next had not yet struck, the demon Nshlic’s first victim woke with a start in the child-brothel.

For the time it took to draw a breath, the dockworker Beyun felt about as good as a man could possibly feel, aglow with the memory of the night’s near-perfect combination of scamming money, drinking, and whoring, and the possibility, based on the warm, sticky little forms curled up next to him, of the last of the three starting all over again.

Then his dreams slammed back into him and he realized that everything in his life was wrong.

The boy and girl Beyun had rented for the night, sensing his movements, began cooing and stroking at him even before they were fully awake. He shook them roughly off.

“Sinners!” Beyun cried, his voice rough from drink and barbed with dreams. Then he looked down at his own naked body. “As I am, too.” He grabbed his knife from the bedside table. “Sinners, do you repent?”

The two young whores looked at one another, then nodded, wide-eyed. They had grown up in the brothels of Dakura, and placating the customers, however odd their desires, was second nature. “Oh, we repent.” The girl, perhaps thirteen or so with the start of a woman’s curves, subtly gestured at the somewhat younger boy, but not so subtly that Beyun didn’t pick up on it. He’d learned when he was younger than these whores to pay attention to his surroundings, because you never knew when someone might be sneaking up on you.

“We’re due for some praying, I’m sure,” the girl continued, her voice high and frantic. “We’ll go ’round to the temple of Pichitra with you, soon as you let us grab our clothes.” As she spoke, the boy slithered down between the wall and the bed and began crawling for the door to get the bouncer.

“Not that whore-goddess Pichitra,” Beyun said, although some part of his brain wondered why. He’d always been partial to the temples of Pichitra. Pichitra’s Chosen were sweet-smelling and pretty and brightly colored as birds, and their charity meals came with a nice hot chili sauce and even a bit of mango or green papaya, not just rice and bland vegetables like the gray-clad, quiet Chosen of Jananya dished out. Still, he said, “we go to the temple of Jananya.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy had almost reached the door. Beyun wheeled around, threw his knife, aiming for the door just above the boy’s head.

Since Beyun had made the money he’d spent for the evening’s extravagant entertainment in a knife-throwing contest, using that very knife, he should have done what he intended: scare the boy into staying put while he gave the oration that was filling his soul.

The knife swerved and struck the boy through the heart.

The girl opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Soundlessly, she dropped to her knees and pressed her face against her dead friend.

Beyun started to panic. He hadn’t meant to kill anyone. He was supposed to be repenting, changing his life for the better. And now this… He’d done plenty of wicked things and he knew it was bad he liked to go to the child-brothels sometimes instead of the brothels with grown women and men, which were bad enough. But killing someone who wasn’t trying to hurt him was worse than anything he’d done before.

Then a great calm filled him, the kind he’d heard pious people saying came with meditation and jhang addicts say came with smoking just the right amount.

The boy’s death wasn’t his fault. It couldn’t have been his fault.

Beyun knew knives. Beyun knew all about knives, and how they behaved, and what could go wrong if you played with them carelessly. What had just happened was impossible.

Therefore, it was the will of Jananya—a sign, a lesson.

And he knew what he had to do to fix the child and in the process, fix his own messed-up, sinful life.

Beyun knelt down beside the two young whores, the living one and the dead. “Do you repent?” he asked the girl, putting his hand gently on her head. She nodded mutely, her almond eyes terrified but her young face otherwise expressionless, frozen with shock.

She probably didn’t repent, not yet. She was just scared, more scared than he’d wanted her to be.

“You don’t have too much to repent, I suppose,” he said, as softly as he could. “I mean, you and your friend were whores and all, but that’s because the world’s an awful place and it dragged you down before you had a chance to do better, just because you needed a way to put rice in your belly. The goddess understands that. But me, I’m a sinner, an evil man. Bear witness for me.” He retrieved the knife from the still-twitching corpse. “I repent my sins, Jananya, and sever myself from temptation!”

He knew what he had to do. The goddess told him in his dreams, but he’d forgotten until just now.

With one blow, without hesitation or flinching, he sliced off his own genitals.

Buy it on Amazon / Smashwords / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

(This post is revised from a previous year.)
If you want a spooky dark fantasy romance with magic and kinky ancient erotic rituals that combat actual demons, Threshing the Grain might be your perfect Halloween read. It’s the autumn/harvest season installment of the Seasons of Sorania Cycle, and it riffs off my adolescent reading of The Golden Bough, which is not about happy-fluffy-modern neopaganism, but the sometimes violent original. There’s blood magic, the possibilty of human sacrifice, and a demon that gets into people’s minds and makes them act as their worst selves.

It’s definitely romance, though, not horror. It features a loving couple who risks everything to save each other and the rest of the community. And did I mention really hot sex? Male-dom sex, female-dom sex, magical sex with satyrs, and the equally magical sex between two people who love each other deeply.

Excerpt:

The sight of Miryea’s body naked and offered up before him like a feast was pretty much irresistible. Hells, her scent–and not the musk of her arousal, even, but simply the smell of her skin, permeated with sharp medicinal herbs that were as much a part of her as that sea-musk of desire–was irresistible.

But he knew what she had dreamed. Knew it in vivid, gory detail.

The blood. The gelding knife. The power rising as the victim’s life ebbed.

As his life ebbed.

No. Don’t think about it.

That particular memory, of the night in his twelfth year where the dreams had turned from frightening spectacle to something more intimately horrifying, was not one for revisiting. At least the dreams had stopped altogether after a few awful nights of experiencing his own ritual death. Shortly after that he’d started having much more pleasant dreams involving naked girls, as if his childhood terrors insisted on one last bit of fun with him before he moved toward manhood and they lost his grip on him. But he wasn’t going let slip that he’d dreamed his own death, to either of the important women in his life. It wasn’t merely that it would call forth his mother’s superstitious Kulchu side or frighten Miryea unnecessarily, although he was sure it would do both.

Talking about it would make it too real. Too much like a prophecy and not a fear born of childhood and the night, dismissible, even laughable, in the light of day and maturity.

Hells, he was thinking it about it, wasn’t he? Worse, he was thinking about it hard enough that Miryea, distracted as she was by her own concerns and his touch, sensed it. She cocked her head and stared at him, her forehead wrinkled with concern. He knew that look. She was about half a breath away from saying, “What’s wrong?”

Adimir shook his head, trying to shake off the memories like he’d shake off a persistent bug. It didn’t entirely work, but it returned his attention back to the sweet, soft feminine curves under his hands, the heat of Miryea’s skin, the way her curls tickled him when the evening breeze passing through the shutters caught them.

If he focused on her, on her pleasure, it would only do them both good.

He kissed her, and this time, after a second, her lips softened and parted for him. Her breath was sweet and spicy, from the candied fennel seeds she’d chewed after dinner, and when he slipped his tongue between her lips, hers began to dance with it.

Still gentle, almost tentative, but she was definitely relaxing and enjoying at last. So was he, for that matter.

Good.

He kissed her until they needed to pause for breath, and by then Miryea’s face was prettily flushed, her eyes less frantic than they had been. A good start, but there was still a long way to go. While patience where sex was concerned had never been Adimir’s strongest virtue, his own dark mood would make it easier to wait, to draw out her pleasure and bring her to blissful exhaustion. He kissed his way down her throat, paying special attention to the sensitive area near her ear, and from there to her collarbone. Feather light there at first, just on the border between pleasurable and tickling, until she was squirming a little and making a noise that was half gasp and half giggle.

Then he bit down, gently at first and then less so, and sucked on the tender flesh. He would mark her as his, under his protection. The spirits of the night would have him to answer to if they messed with his Miryea.

What he’d do against spirits was another question. Swords, not spells, were his weapons, and they weren’t much use against things you couldn’t see or touch. But the primitive streak that reveled in seeing his marks on Miryea’s body and crowed, “Mine, mine, mine!” whenever he looked at her didn’t worry about such niceties.

Her body arched, quivered.

Good. She was feeling it. And whether “it” was his passion, his possessiveness or his determination to protect her didn’t much matter, as long it worked. As long as it got her mind off the nightmares and into the moment.

He kissed down her breastbone and nuzzled the sweet valley between her breasts. Nipped at the ripe, creamy swells, first one and then the other. She yelped the first time and made a very different noise the second time, and put her slender, strong arms around him then, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“You want me to spend more time here?” he asked, keeping his voice nonchalant and lazy. He’d had every intention of doing so anyway, but knowing how much she wanted it increased his pleasure.

“Yes. Please.” A breath’s worth of hesitation, and then she added, “I don’t want to think tonight, Adimir. I can’t bear to think tonight. Keep me from thinking.”

“I’ll do my best, little rabbit.” And we’ll both be better off for it. Because if you’re not thinking, chances are I won’t be either, and I’m not over-fond of where my mind wanders these early autumn days when I let it out alone.

Buy at:

Phaze / Amazon US / Amazon UK /All Romance Ebooks

To celebrate the November 3 paperback release of Witches’ Waves (Duals and Donovans: the Different, book 4) I thought I’d join in this week’s Paranormal Love Wednesdays blog hop and tease you with a delicious snippet. Witches’ Waves is a menage romance starring an ethereal blind witch who swears like a Marine, a surfer-dude witch with screwed-up magic and possible genes from a Norse god, and an overly serious otter shifter. They’re working together to save a magical child–and of course, they find love in the process.

The men turned toward each other. There was a soft, wet sound, and then a fierce, strangled groan. They were kissing, she knew. Maybe touching intimately, hands on each other’s cocks. After all, Kyle was already naked. It wouldn’t take much.

Hot energy danced over Meaghan’s skin where they were still in contact with her. It prickled and tickled, but in a good way. An arousing way, as if each kiss and touch between the two men echoed in her. Her nipples perked up against her borrowed shirt as if Kyle and Deck were each suckling one. And between her legs she swore she could feel a clever finger circling her clit, teasing and tempting, dipping into her wet pussy, then going back to her clit. Not enough to make her come, but enough to arouse and tempt, enough to make her all too aware of her body, her own needs.

She couldn’t help remembering the dreams or visions of Kyle and Deck and her together in the water, the two men taking turns fucking her, buoyed by the ocean. Strong hands, strong cock and a sense of mutual love and need so powerful that she couldn’t believe it was only a fantasy. How could she even know how to fantasize about such a thing, when she knew nothing of love and, she suspected now, little of real desire?

Find more about Witches’ Waves and the whole Duals and Donovans series here.  Be sure to check out all the other blog hop participants as well.

Buy links for paper and ebook: Amazon /Amazon UK / Barnes and Noble / Samhain

These are ebook only, obviously: iBooks(iTunes) / Kobo

Cynthia Sax is visiting today with a post on the enemies to lovers trope and a bit about her newest book, which I simply have to read.

#  #

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” – Elie Wiesel

One of my favorite storylines in SciFi romance is enemies to lovers. The couple (or more) starts the story hating each other with a fierce, world-burning passion. They end the story loving each other with the same ferocity.

Teresa does this storyline oh so well. (Edit: Thank you so much, Cynthia!) As Rahal says to Xia in Bad Kitty, “You make death threats seem like the most erotic thing ever.” There’s the hint of danger throughout the early scenes. We’re not sure if the temporary peace between them will hold.

In Releasing Rage, my most recent story, Rage, the cyborg hero, has been tortured by his human handlers over his entire lifespan. He hates humans with an all encompassing passion, an unrivaled fury. He sees no redeeming qualities in humans and plans to kill as many of them as possible when he escapes.

Joan is the human female assigned to be his engineer. She’s aware of his hatred for her kind. It isn’t a secret. Rage brutally murdered his previous engineer and she sees the carnage he caused. She knows if she makes one wrong move, she’s dead.

Even I didn’t think she’d make it through their first meeting alive. Rage was a hair trigger away from killing her throughout the entire scene. This constant will-he or won’t-he tension is one of the many things I love about the enemies to lovers storyline. We’re never quite sure what will happen.

I also love the premise that our enemies might be the very beings who best understand us. Rage, hating all humans, is aware of how different Joan is. She is an outcast and he sees this early in their relationship.

Most of all, enemies to lovers stories give me hope. If Rage and Joan can learn to love each other, then maybe we can learn to love people who are less hostile toward us. There’s hope for us and for the world.

What do you love about enemies to lovers stories? What are some of your favorite enemies to lovers stories?

***

Blurb

Releasing Rage

Half Man. Half Machine. All Hers.

Rage, the Humanoid Alliance’s most primitive cyborg, has two goals–kill all of the humans on his battle station and escape to the Homeland. The warrior has seen the darkness in others and in himself. He believes that’s all he’s been programmed to experience.

Until he meets Joan.

Joan, the battle station’s first female engineer, has one goal–survive long enough to help the big sexy cyborg plotting to kill her. Rage might not trust her but he wants her. She sees the passion in his eyes, the caring in his battle-worn hands, the gruff emotion in his voice.

When Joan survives the unthinkable, Rage’s priorities are tested. Is there enough room in this cyborg’s heart for both love and revenge?

Buy Now:

On Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Releasing-Rage-Cyborg-Sizzle-Book-ebook/dp/B00ZOL1DRO

On Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00ZOL1DRO/

On ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-releasingrage-1850041-340.html

On B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/releasing-rage-cynthia-sax/1122455646

Bio

About Cynthia Sax

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Website: http://cynthiasax.com/

Newsletter: http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/

Facebook: facebook.com/cynthia.sax

Twitter: @CynthiaSax

Blog: http://tasteofcyn.com/

Turn the sound off because it doesn’t really add much.

This week’s theme on the My Sexy Saturday blog hop is “One Sexy Boy.” (Be sure to check out all the participants. There’s a full set of links at the bottom of the post if you want to read mine first, which I hope you do.) My science fiction romance Bad Kitty features two sexy heroes for my lucky heroine Xia to love. After all, she’s a felinoid, a catlike alien, and felinoids spells monogamy as monotony!

I’ve offered a few previous glimpses of her felinoid hero, Rahal. Here’s her first look at their human sexy boy. She’s just met him a way that could be awkward even for an uninhibited cat-girl: he walks in while she and Rahal are getting frisky. Luckily the handsome stranger introduced as arms dealer Karn the Viking isn’t averse to getting frisky himself. His reasons are more complicated than simply having a high sex drive, low inhibitions and a desire for the two attractive felinoids. But for now, it looks like good, clean dirty fun all around…

The man with the sexy voice chuckled. “I’ll make myself comfortable. That is, if the lady doesn’t mind. Never pays to piss off a woman with claws.”

Xia craned her neck and found herself looking into a pair of very blue human eyes as the two-o’clock appointment settled himself on a cushion, long legs folded under him. “Oh no,” she said with a purr. “The lady doesn’t mind at all. Pretty-pretty must be in season on this planet.”

“Just got here yesterday,” the man said, sounding an adorable combination of aroused and embarrassed. “Maybe the season came with me.”

The embarrassment was endearing, especially since he didn’t look like someone who’d get embarrassed by much of anything. This human—tall and buff with neat, short white-blond hair and wearing a long coat of tan leather and skintight pants in the same shade—was almost as tastily tough as Rahal. Her cunt clenched around Rahal at the thought of the stranger being an audience.

A participant would be even better, but humans weren’t always that easygoing about sex. And while she and Rahal had clicked instantly on many levels, she didn’t want to push him by inviting the guy to play too. Too much was riding on her bargain with the warlord.

But she didn’t need to worry about that. “Space is a cold, lonely place, Viking,” Rahal said. “If you want to warm yourself, just ask. I won’t speak for Xia and she can veto me, but I always figure the more the merrier.”

Well, that solved the etiquette dilemma! Xia nodded and beckoned. The human let out a strangled moan and crawled closer.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

Be sure to visit all the other Sexy Saturday participants!

And check out my release-day Facebook party for more sexy snippets, prizes, and visitors from guest authors galore!

You may have noticed this blog’s been fairly quiet the last few months. A lot of guest posts, and thank you, friends, for providing some content! A few excerpts and blog hops. But nothing about my life and adventures, none of my photos, nothing personal. I realize I didn’t even post about my trip to New Orleans in June and it’s now September.

Doreen, an amazing street musician. We bought all her CDs.

New Orleans was spectacular: wonderful music, great food, history, and time with some of our best friends. We visited plantations, saw the battlefield for the Battle of New Orleans (which involved a riverboat ride!), attended a Cajun and Zydeco music festival, lunched at Commander’s Palace (amazing food and 25-cent martinis), dined at K-Paul’s, went to many jazz clubs and tasted many exquisite cocktails. But I haven’t edited the photos from the trip yet, or even gone through them to cull the blurry, bad ones.

Our beloved cat Rumble was in shaky health when we headed out, but we left him in the loving care of good friends who were house- and cat-sitting. Despite their efforts, though, it was clear when we got home that he was failing. Thus started several months of doing our best to keep the big galoot comfortable and trying to reverse whatever was wrong. Our vet didn’t have a definitive diagnosis. He’d had a thyroid problem for years, but it wasn’t worse and his bloodwork wasn’t showing anything conclusive. Still, it was obvious he was failing. A huge beast, half again as long as his sister Noodle (who is not a tiny cat!), Rumble weighed more than 21 pounds in his prime. He weighed about 8 on his second-to-last vet visit. On that one, we tried subcutaneous hydration, and for a few days he perked up. Then even that stopped helping. He repeatedly turned down turkey, his favorite food.  He stopped drinking. The mighty purr that gave him his name faded. And the bloodwork taken at that last visit came back with the news that his liver seemed to be failing.

In early August, we said goodbye to our boy. RIP, Rumble. We’re glad you shared our lives. Your sister is still crying around the house looking for you, or maybe talking to your ghost. And Himself and I are sniffling occasionally when something reminds us of you.

Rumble in his full glory. We think he’d been a shoe fetishist in a past life.

All summer I’d been gloomy and unable to get out of my own way. We all figured that the cat’s illness was hitting me hard, especially since my mom’s health isn’t great and the reminder of mortality wasn’t exactly a mood-booster. But I kept getting worse. I had no energy. Nothing seemed fun. The garden and my writing suffered. When I went in for an annual physical, my doctor was quick to agree I seemed depressed. Not necessarily time to start medicating, she thought, since there had been some triggering events, but definitely we should keep an eye on how I was doing.

But she also ordered bloodwork. Turned out that I might be somewhat depressed or at least understandably “down,” I was also anemic. And guess what anemia’s symptoms include? You guessed it–lethargy, exhaustion and what feels like a bad case of the blues! A few weeks on iron supplements and I’m feeling much better. The writing’s moving forward again at last. I’m enjoying gardening and hiking. (I think I’ve hiked in the past couple of weeks more than I did the entire rest of the summer.) The summer’s gone, but I’m determined to enjoy the bountiful possibilities offered by autum in New England.

Now I just need to edit all the photos I took in New Orleans…all three hundred of them!

Do you like sexy vampires? I bet you do! Do you like free books? I know you do! My friend Victoria Blisse is the special feature author at her publisher, Totally Bound, this month. She has a new vampire book coming later in the month and as part of the buzz, the publisher has rebranded the rest of the series. What’s especially fun is Totally Bound is giving away the first book in the series until the end of September! So read all about it below, then give yourself a taste of something paranormal, romantic and hot. Her new book comes out the same day mine does, September 22, but you can still expect to see a snippet here.

Sexy Vampires Revamped!

For the month of September Victoria Blisse is the Special Feature Author at Totally Bound. She has recently revamped all three of her Point Vamp books and the next in the series will be out on the 22^nd September.

To celebrate these new editions, all the books have sexy new covers and each book has its own special offer. Until the 30^th September you can pick up The Point, the first book of the Point Vamp series completely free of charge from Totally Bound.

Series Blurb:

What is The Point? It is the hottest club in town for both Vampires and humans alike. It has a large dance floor and a bar like any other club but once you disappear behind the VIP only door you find out what makes The Point so unique. Sex, blood and lust all behind closed doors and only accessed by the chosen ones.

Now, you become a chosen one and get to see the sexy world behind that door.

Welcome to The Point.

The Point Blurb:

Love conquers all, that is the point but can it bridge the differences between a vampire and a woman?

Hugh is twenty eight. He has been twenty eight for nearly one hundred years. Hugh is a vampire. He owns a club called The Point and he pays girls to have sex with him. He then counts to ten as he sucks their blood to semi-satisfy his lust.

Elizabeth is a doctor. She loves her job but likes to escape into the countryside now and then. When she twists her ankle Hugh comes to her aid. He carries her curvy form all the way back to his home. He takes care of her ankle and the rest of her body too but he goes too far and sucks her perfectly intoxicating blood.

How can these two lovers have any kind of relationship? They don’t know. Only time will reveal the answers.

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of blood shed.

Publisher’s Note: This book has previously been published under the same title by Totally Bound. It has been expanded, revised and re-edited for re-release.

General Release Date: 1st September 2015

Pick up your free copy of The Point at Totally Bound now!

Excerpt:

She was a beautiful thing, this girl, all rosy and bright and full of the kind of curves a man could enjoy getting lost in. She would taste fabulous, he could tell. She had a lot of life in her, and if he were to drain her, he’d not need another meal for a month. But no, he must not even think like that. His brows wrinkled as he mentally scolded himself. He did not feed on random girls. No, he only sucked those who wanted to be sucked at the club. No one else, nowhere else. It was the rules. His rules and he would not break them.

He opened the wardrobe and took a moment to steady himself. All of his mother’s clothes hung there, as pristine as they’d always been with only the dust of ages to sully them. He pulled out the first that came to hand, shook it then laid it across his arm. His mother would not mind him using her clothes. She had always been a charitable soul. Thinking about his mother made his heart ache, so he shook his head and purposefully strode down the landing to the stairs.

When he walked back into the warm sitting room, the girl did not look immediately to him. He walked closer and realised as he glanced down that she was sleeping. Her face was peaceful, and he wished he could leave her like that, but she was still a little damp and a lot cold. He would have to disturb her.

“Erm, hello?” he called, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, yes, sorry. I must have dozed off.” She smiled in her disorientation then took the towel he proffered for her use.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, dear lady, but I do not want you to catch your death of cold.”

He laid the dress down over a single chair close to the fire and went to help her with the towel.

“Oh, gosh, I couldn’t possibly wear that, I mean, it’s antique, isn’t it? It’s like that beautiful dress in the portrait, and I really don’t think I’d fit in it anyway.” She flustered, waving her hands, her cheeks flushed red.

“It will fit you perfectly,” he replied, “and you could not wear any clothes of mine. This is all I have in the way of suitable clothing for a lady. Now we need to get you out of those wet things.” He knelt at her feet and started to untie the one trainer she still had on.

“I can undress myself,” she screeched.

“I know you can, dear woman, but you have a twisted ankle. You cannot do this without aid today. Do not worry for I will not force myself upon you. I will aid you and nothing more.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know. I’m a little sensitive about anyone seeing me, you know, unclothed. I’m not particularly beautiful with my clothes on, and with them off, I look considerably worse.”

“I cannot believe that is true,” he said. “You are more than pretty as you are.”

He put the trainer to one side and delicately plucked off her sock, gently smoothing his hands down her soft skin. “Do you need help with your top?”

Before she could answer, he stood and reached down to her waist. Her hand hovered just around her stomach for a moment then she raised her arms. Hugh lifted the clinging, damp material up and over her head.

“What’s your name?” she blurted out. “I mean, you’re undressing me, and I don’t even know who you are.”

“I am Hugh Jacobson,” he replied then picked up the towel and draped it around her shoulders, his gaze concentrated on the luscious mounds of her breasts as he did so. They were like scoops of cold, tempting ice cream in their lacy shells.

“And I’m Elizabeth Chapman,” she said. “Doctor Elizabeth Chapman.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said as he rubbed the towel up and down her arms. “Although, I am sorry our meeting was under such circumstances.”

Bio:
Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author.
She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut
Alfresco, Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.
Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut events, days and nights dedicated to
erotica, fun and prizes. Check out http://ilovesmut.uk for more details.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and
biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English
quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse ,
Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse
To find out more check out

Don’t read this at the office unless you’re self-employed. And if you are, prepare to be very distracted!

It’s FINALLY here – the naughtiness that happens in Albrecht Stables finally comes to a climatic end. (18+ Audience Only)

Blurb:

Will Mark Matthews accept Redcliff’s terms for his daughter’s release, surrendering both body and mind to the enemy? Petal’s sanity depends upon the fact, for in the sixth and final book of the Pony Tales she is to discover that the fate in store for her at Albrecht is not a pretty one.

Shipped off to Leyland Forbes in a steel cage, the pony-girl will have to endure all sorts of imaginative bondage and BDSM at his palatial manor, as her body is photographed intimately by several of the world’s top photographers. As the day progresses she will find herself taken out to dinner in chains, before being cleverly and expertly divested of her virginity.

Trouble awaits when she returns to the stables, however. One of the trainers has taken a monstrous dislike to her and intends to prove his superiority, both in the dungeon and beyond.

Escape for Jenny is beginning to seem like an impossible dream…

Excerpt

If you want me to utter that safe word, you’re going the wrong way about it,” breathed Jenny, who was still struggling to rub her body against his.

He barked out a laugh. “Oh you’ll utter your naughty little word before the night is out,” whispered Mark, nuzzling his lips against her neck, “but at the moment, I want to lick, bite, nibble, pinch, tweak and chew every inch of you. She made a face at him and he shook his head, amused. “Relax, you’ll enjoy it.” She narrowed her eyes at that. “OK,” he amended, “you’ll enjoy most of it.”

Whatever Jenny’s reply to his comment might have been was lost, for his mouth descended quickly upon her sex and employed every trick in the book to get her to panting level in record time. When she’d reached the ‘ten-seconds-to-blast-off’ point, he abruptly stopped and moved on to other ‘less sensitive’ body parts. She made lots of funny gurgling noises, and some interesting Kung Fu moves against his knot-work, but ultimately, she just had to wait and endure. He planned to cover her entire body with his tongue-work and lips, and he started high, tracing the delicate lines of her cheekbones, the ridge of her lips, the line of her nose, and the arch of her neck. Nipping at the tightly pointed buds of her nipples and palpating the soft flesh of her abdomen, he then moved to bite the tender inner flesh of her thighs and tongue a wavy line of worship down to her ankles. He sucked toes, pretty little red-tipped toes that were stretched high in the air, and then he got down low and traced a path around her plugs with his tongue. Under her arms, over her shoulders, down to her tight little waist, he suckled, blew, kissed and even hummed tunes against her skin. She smelled divine. She tasted better. It was a shame she was not edible, for he could have eaten her whole. When he had covered her body from top to bottom at least twice, only then did he return to his shot glass.

With his long fingers, he gently pried the glass loose from the tight confines of her pussy, not able to contain his smile of satisfaction when she groaned at its removal. “You like being filled.” It was a statement, not a question, which was just as well, because he didn’t get an answer. “Do you like being stretched, I wonder?” Inserting the middle and index finger of his right hand into her dripping wet channel, he began to stretch the soft, wet walls of her sex. There was another groan. “I guess I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured. Making slow scissor motions with his fingers, he began to stretch the tight flesh of her pussy, opening her up. “Can you guess what I’m going to do next?” With his fingers still slipping and sliding inside her, he held up his shot glass and twirled the remaining liquid around. “You only get one guess, Princess.”

“Oh God, please tell me you’re not,” said Jenny, who spoke thickly and with stilted pauses. His fingers appeared to be quite the distraction.

“Oh,” breathed Mark happily, “I’m afraid I am.” Tilting the glass to a forty-five degree angle he let it hover for just a second, and as soon as Jenny grimaced and closed her eyes, he slowly began to pour.

“It’s still warm,” she whimpered in a pained voice.

“It’ll be nothing compared to the temperature I’m about to rocket you up to, given a couple of a minutes.”

“How are you going to get that out again? You can suck it out, surely?” Jenny opened one eye at him and gave him a nasty look.

“We’ll have to hope, for your sake, that I can. Otherwise I’ll be searching the apartment up and down for a straw, and then I might get distracted and feel the need to blow bubbles.”

She gave a horrified shudder beneath him, but then his mouth was upon her and it was all about pleasure. He flipped the stereo on with his spare hand and the shuffle function found the ‘Flower duet,’ from the opera ‘Lakmé’ which usually reminded him of the British Airways commercial, but tonight he had other things on his mind. It was a strangely appropriate piece, but he hadn’t the time to consider the intricacies of opera at the moment. He was focused. He had his goal in sight and he was nothing if not an overachiever.

He suckled, tongued, stroked and slurped. Light trickles of Sambuca ran into his mouth, flavoured with her unique, spicy essence that made the subtle hint of elderflower and the strong tang of liquorice seem like nectar from the Gods. Speaking of Gods, she tasted heavenly. Earthy, musky, flowery, and there was a hint of sweetness he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She seemed to have a particular scent and taste that drove him wild, and tonight, he intended to indulge himself. She wouldn’t be getting a sip of this particular vintage. This was all for him and he savoured each drop. When her thighs began trembling beneath his hands, he increased the suction of his mouth and captured her clit. In a few artful flicks, he had her screaming and then he could wait no longer. He was inside her. With long, tortured thrusts of urgency, he finally found solace within her body. She squeezed him tightly, somehow remembering what she had been taught and as he ran his fingers up and down her body, caressing and stroking her arms, breasts and thighs, he lost himself. One moment he was a sensible, control-freak style dominant and in the next he was a rutting beast. He needed to pull himself back and rein it in, or this session would not end as planned.

Pulling out of Jennifer Redcliff’s body was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Considering how long it had taken him to immerse himself inside it, it was hardly surprising. Breathing hard, he withdrew his aching cock, and it was clear she felt the same way for her body tried desperately hard to hold on to him. “They’ve taught you well, I see,” he said with a sardonic smile, as he finally gathered his breath back.

“Oh God,” she moaned.

“I’m that good, huh?”

Get Your Copy of THE TIES THAT BIND here.

So what’s new in the latest instalment of Pony Tales?

Imaginative Bondage – Jenny is about to find herself centre stage in Leyland Forbes palatial mansion as he works to entertain his guests in what will be the BDSM party of the century. She will find herself sprayed up in body paint and forming part of a moving exhibition – a carousel – before being dipped several feet underwater for experimental underwater games.

Marianna and the ‘No Panties’ rule – What happened to Marianna after we left her in Atlantisse? Well, she’s about to feature as a human dessert plate for the entertainment of Mark Matthews and a few others, besides. Then, when she arrives back at the office, she will have to face her ‘no panties’ punishment – which involves her walking around the office with… yes, you’ve guessed it… her panties around her ankles.

Mark and Jenny – Finally some alone time for Mark and Jenny! Lots of shocking, naughty games ensue and she’ll have a rather intimate experience with a shot glass. A safe word will be chosen and Mark will do all he can to make sure that it is uttered before the evening comes to a close.

Redcliff – This man wants to watch Mark squirm, and preferably at his feet. The tactics he will employ to make sure that will happen are going to make your eyes water!

And Finally… a little Rafflecopter to play around with and some prizes!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

If you’d like a taste of what Pony Tales has to offer, download your very own free ebook copy of ‘Named and Shamed’ by clicking on the picture below (available in PDF, ePub and Mobi for Kindle):

A little bit about Christina Mandara:

Christina Mandara was born in the UK, but has spent most of her life travelling the world. She speaks three languages and has been chiefly employed in the fields of finance and travel. Her favourite city is Sydney and her favourite holiday destination is the south of France.

She loves keeping fit and enjoys running, cycling and water sports. No, not those kinds of water sports; think surfing or sailing. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t enjoy BDSM in all of its glorious forms, be that pony girls, bondage, edge play, orgasm denial or a damn good spanking. Her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her riding crop.

In her spare time she’s usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she’s one of few woman who wouldn’t mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you’ll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies.

If anyone would like more information, I can be stalked here:

FB: https://www.facebook.com/CPMandara
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cpmandara
Blog: http://christinamandara.wordpress.com/
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7113521.C_P_Mandara
Amazon Author Page: http://author.to/CPMandara
C.P. Mandara’s Sexy Sizzler Newsletter Sign Up: http://bit.ly/1MVubkR

This week, I’m taking part in the My Sexy Saturday blog hop, in which writers post 7 words, sentences or paragraphs centered on a sexy theme. This week’s theme is “My Sexy Girlfriend,” and I’m offering you a glimpse of Rita, the human heroine of my science fiction romance Thrill-Kinky (Chronicles of the Malcolm 1), through the eyes of her new lover Drax, a winged Banjali alien.

Next week I’ll have something from Bad Kitty, the second book in the series, which comes out 9/22.

But this week, enjoy, and be sure to visit all the other participants on the hop.

Drax was impressed.

He’d thought at first that the chance-met Rita Anteres was just a compassionate trash recycler. An attractive human, certainly, with big green eyes, short, tousled dark hair, and a slim, strong body, but a random person who’d help him out of the trash bin and be on her way.

He didn’t expect her to be so persistent in helping him, or so clever. Most strangers would have run off when they realized he was in all kinds of dangerous trouble. Hell, many strangers would have turned him over to the surprisingly pleasant police officer once they realized he was “wanted”.

Which might not have been the worst thing, if Rita hadn’t been around to help. At least the police might have a lead on the troublesome Blemondians. They’d give him medical attention at the police station. Not to mention clothes, though not his own, with his high-limit credit chit and a variety of handy tools in various handy hidden pockets.

But Rita got right into the spirit of the thing. Whisking him away. Going along with it when he insisted he couldn’t go to the hospital. Letting him kiss her for cover.

And then letting him bury his worries, his fears, his pain in her tantalizing little body. Although “letting him” was too mild a way of putting it. Rita didn’t just go along with him craving sex, but reveled in it, despite the rough-and-tumble setting, or maybe because of it. While he’d been the one who actually initiated the action, he suspected she’d only held back from making a pass at him because she didn’t know how quickly his people healed, or how “flying” through sex would restore his bruised spirits and shattered nerves almost as much as actual flight would.

Of course sex on the wing would be better yet. And pin-feathers, he wanted to fly with Rita in his arms, his cock in Rita’s wet, gripping sex. Not something he’d normally want to do with a chance-encountered lady of another species. Too romantic, too significant from a Banjali point of view. But something about Rita made him forget she didn’t have wings of her own.

# # #

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon / B&N / Kobo /All Romance eBooks / iBooks (iTunes)

We’re just two days away from the Tease To Please Facebook party! Just in case you haven’t heard yet, Tease To Please is a 50-author anthology filled with extraordinary excerpts from New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon best-sellers, and award-winning authors.

All romance, including contemporary, erotic, fantasy, historical, LGBT, paranormal, science fiction, time travel– the list goes on! Whatever you fancy, we’ve got something for your discriminating taste buds. Join the party to meet and chat with some of the authors, win prizes, ask them questions, play games, and just have a great time. The party runs Thursday 8/27 through Saturday 8/29, and who doesn’t love a party you can attend in your PJs, your grubby gardening clothes…or maybe nothing at all?

I’ll stop talking now so you can…

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Author Meredith O’Reilly is joining us today with some sweet and spicy M/M kink.

Here’s a snippet from Meredith’s latest release, His Captive’s Heart. In this snippet, Marcus has just come and Dmitri takes care of everything.

When I finally finished, it felt like my body had turned to jello. I would have slid to the ground if it hadn’t been for Dimitri supporting my weight.

He sat down on the table, then lifted me onto his lap.

“Excellent job, Marcus. I’m proud of you for not coming when you wanted to. You made me very pleased.”

“Thank you, sir,” I whispered, not having the strength to lift my head up to look at him.

“You’re welcome. Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit? I’ll clean you up and then I think a nap before lunch would be a smart idea.”

I nodded, content to let him take care of everything.

His Captive’s Heart Blurb:

Twenty-nine-year-old lawyer Marcus Bradberry has fantasized for years about finding a firm-handed man who would not hesitate to provide both guidance and discipline while also bringing him the kind of fulfillment he’s only dreamed about. When he meets Dimitri Anderson, the owner of a local kink club, Marcus takes a chance and shares the wildest fantasy he’s ever had with him.

Though he confesses to Dimitri that nothing excites him more than the idea of a being overpowered, kidnapped, and mastered completely by a strong, handsome man, Marcus is nonetheless shocked when Dimitri takes it upon himself to bring this fantasy to life. When Dimitri surprises him after work on a Friday, Marcus soon finds himself blindfolded, handcuffed, and driven away to an unknown place.

It quickly becomes clear that Dimitri knows exactly what his captive sub needs and is more than ready to give it to him, but as the weekend progresses, Marcus realizes that trusting his new master is at times much harder than he expected. Will he surrender to his most secret desires or will his fears drive him away from his master’s loving arms?

Publisher’s Note: His Captive’s Heart is an erotic romance novel that contains spankings, sexual scenes, anal play, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble Buy Link – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-captives-heart-meredith-oreilly/1122528440?ean=2940151149396

Kobo Buy Link – https://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=His+Captive%27s+Heart

Author Bio

Meredith O’Reilly cannot believe that she has four books published! It was a little over a year ago that she had her first book published with Stormy Night Publications. She began writing age play stories, but has since branched out to new sub-genres of romance.

In her spare time, Meredith goes to school, watches a little too much Netflix, and experiments with learning how to cook new things in the kitchen. Mostly she tries to balance her life between school work and author work. That’s a task that is easier said than done, most times.

Contact Links

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Goodreads

Meredith’s Amazon Page

Meredith’s Blog

Little Samantha’s Choice, Meredith’s first book is–along with three other amazing books from Stormy Night Publications–on sale for 50% off! You don’t want to miss that deal!

Samantha Briggs always had a suspicion that her husband, Jackson was hiding something from her. When he’s away on a business trip, Samantha finds out her husband’s secret: he wants her to act as his little girl on the weekends. Deciding to give it a try, Samantha falls in love with being Jackson’s little girl. But when she slips up and embarrasses herself by behaving childishly during a stressful morning at work, she reconsiders their new relationship. Will she give up the lifestyle she’s grown to love so much, or can she come to accept that there is nothing wrong with choosing to be her daddy’s little girl?

Raven’s Seduction Press, Dawn White and Paige Matthews are pleased to announce the cover reveal for …ROUGH SUBMISSION.

Blurb:

Autumn

I wasn’t looking for love. No, I had made a decision – one to help those that needed it; to try and save a life. I thought joining the pen pal program would be something to keep me distracted while I adjusted to my new life. I never thought I’d fall in love with a soldier…

Brock

I wasn’t looking for love. I had everything I needed; my platoon, my career, my focus. When it came to women, I got what I needed when I needed it- nothing more, nothing less. Until I received that first letter. She changed that, but as I walk down the aisle she still doesn’t know the secret I keep hidden. I never thought I’d fall in love with an angel. How can I bring her into my world?

Pre-Order Link: $.99 until Release!

About the Authors

Paige Matthews grew up in a small town in Western Connecticut. After receiving a BA and MA in Literature and writing, Paige began to focus on writing her own style of fiction. Paige focuses on the emotional aspects of the D/s relationship and writes primarily BDSM fiction. In 2015, Paige signed with Raven’s Seduction Press.When Paige is not writing, or working her full time job, she can be found watching hockey, reading and enjoying time with her family. Paige currently lives in Western CT with her husband, two children and dog.

Dawn White resides in Southern WV with her husband and three daughters. She has always been an avid reader and seems to live a busy life as a wife and mother. One thing that keeps Dawn sane is her writing. She will always strive to give you the best of her busy mind.

Stalk the Authors

www.facebook.com/authorpaigematthews

www.facebook.com/authordawnwhite

www.ravenseductionpress.com

I have an unreasonable fondness for the sound of that word. Rafflecopter. Rafflecopter. Rafflecopter. If it hadn’t already been claimed as a giveaway mechanism, I have love to invent the rafflecopter for my Chronicles of the Malcolm science fiction world. Perhaps it’s powered by quarks and charms by a means so complicated that people who aren’t quantum physicists shrug and figure it might as well be magic and chance.

But anyway, I’m here to announce a Rafflecopter giveaway in conjunction with the launch of Tease to Please. A chance to win goodies is almost as much fun as a flying vehicle powered by mysterious quantum mechanics… OK, more fun, because it actually exists.

(I’ll be back shortly with a meatier update. It’s been an interesting summer in both good ways and bad.)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

My friends at Mile High Muses have started Scintillating Sundays, a blog hop designed to entertain readers as they chill at home on a lazy Sunday. It’s a simple premise: each participating author posts 8 paragraphs we feel embody the word “scintillating” and you get to hop from blog to blog, reading them all. Since we tend to be the sort of writers who put the “sin” in “scintillating”, you’re likely to find screen-melting sexy moments, as well as clever flirting full of innuendo and double-entendre.

As I did last week, I’m offering you a snippet of my September 22 science fiction romance release Bad Kitty. Just to set the scene, both Xia and Rahal are felinoids, aliens who look very much like humanoid cats–and act a bit like it too.

Rahal took a deep breath, drinking in Xia’s personal perfume, the flavor of her skin and blood. The young woman, probably ten years his junior, was an aphrodisiac. If he could bottle her scent, the nuances of her blood, he could make enough credits to repair all the damage to Siantana and get started on the rest of this poor, beat-up planet, while treating himself to a first-class vacation somewhere that didn’t smell like burning.

No, just the scent of her skin, delectable as that was, wouldn’t be enough. He’d need to capture the grace of her tail, the charm of her posture—meltingly sensual, yet alert to the danger around her and ready for action—the blooded velvet power of her hands, the exact cock of her ears and especially the left ear’s one adorable white tip.

If they’d been alone, he’d be halfway to seducing her by now. Maybe farther along than that because she smelled of heat, of need, as well as all the other delicious things that were permanent parts of who she was. She might already be as wet under her short skirt as he was hard in his pants. She might be willing to hit the ground on hands and knees and cock her pretty tail for him right now, then talk later.

And there would be talk, once the first urgency passed, because everything about her screamed there was far more to Xia Suarez than her undeniable tawny beauty. Intelligence, passion, danger.

If he believed the old granny-and-grandpa tales of knowing your mate at first sight, he’d think she was fated to be his. Stars, he half believed it anyway, or at least wanted to believe it.

Then something processed in a brain so drunk on hormones he was thinking about as clearly as an adolescent. Suarez. She shared a last name with the dark, very human captain and his huge, humorless (but handsome, in a big, beefy, heavily decorated Furagi style) husband. She pronounced her name like a human would.

She’d obviously been adopted off-planet as a kitten. Even if she was his mate, she might not know about mating, how it overcame all rationality and better judgment—not that their species had a lot of either on an ordinary day.

He’d just have to make sure she fell for him fast and hard, and explain the rest later.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

My friends at Mile High Muses have started Scintillating Sundays, a blog hop designed to entertain readers as they chill at home on a lazy Sunday. It’s a simple premise: each participating author posts 8 paragraphs we feel embody the word “scintillating” and you get to hop from blog to blog, reading them all.

My selection is from Bad Kitty, the second book in my Chronicles of the Malcolm science-fiction romance series, due out 9/22. Enjoy! And when you’re done, please visit the other authors:

The flyer’s door opened. Two heavily armed people who looked like bodyguards stepped out—one a human, the other a Xylac, obvious from his horns. Body armor, Mae-90 personal power laser guns, the works.

In contrast, the person who exited the flyer next was unarmored and unarmed.

Make that the person who slinked out like a holo star. Most people looked awkward getting out of a flyer. This one led with his pelvis and his long, lean, leather-clad legs, then unfolded and opened his arms. “Drax Jalfricki!” he exclaimed. “Welcome to my hellish little paradise. Don’t mind the idiots with explosives. Eventually they’ll learn better. Either that or they’ll die. Entertaining either way.”

“Rahal, you’re right on time and right up to your ear tips in trouble, as usual.”

“Of course I’m on time. I wouldn’t want to keep my brother waiting. As for the trouble…” He shrugged, a lovely motion that set the muscles in his broad, bare chest rippling.

“It runs in the family.” Both men laughed.

Xia drew in a sharp breath.

This guy wasn’t Drax’s actual-factual brother, though he was even more spectacularly good-looking than the Banjali. A woman might die from all the excess of masculine beauty. (A quick glance suggested Mik and Gan might also be in danger. They were devoted to each other, but they weren’t blind.)

Rahal, Drax’s “brother”, was a felinoid.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

I suppose I’ve “unofficially” revealed the cover for my September 22 release Bad Kitty (Chronicles of the Malcolm, book 2). It’s on my home page, and since it appears on Amazon and Samhain, it pops up whenever I share a book link. But it’s high time I made a big deal over my beautiful cover and told you a little about the book.

This is Xia, my cat-girl assassin heroine. Isn’t she lovely? For some reason, there isn’t a lot of stock photography of sexy aliens, so my talented cover artist Kanaxa and I went back and forth a few times to get her just right. I love Kanaxa. She did the cover for Thrill-Kinky as well, and I hope she’ll do the covers for the rest of the series. My only regret was that we couldn’t put Cal (aka Karn–he’s incognito for much of the book) and Rahal on the cover, but for some reason we couldn’t get this guy to pose as Cal.

Alexander Skarsgard… yeah, one of my heroes looks a bit like this.

And Rahal looks like a Japanese manga artist (make that a hentai artist–that’s the sexy stuff) imagined the love child of Johnny Depp and a black panther. Talk about hard to find stock photos!

The book is up for pre-order at all the major sites except for Samhain. It’s featured on Samhain’s site, but you can’t actually pre-order there until August 22. Oh well…impatient folks can go elsewhere to pre-order!

Blurb:

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

Tease to Please

EXTRAORDINARY AUTHOR EXCERPTS

from

50 NYT, USA Today & Amazon

Bestselling Authors

Releasing August 2015

***FREE***

to

All Our Fans

This book is dedicated to all our loyal fans and readers who give our work purpose…….and it will be our dirty little secret…

Naughty is as naughty does. And if there is any virtue seeking its own reward, it will not be found here. What will be found is a collection of awesome author excerpts, a box of saucy, delectable samples, a tasty bounty of tantalizing teasers. And there is no reward quite like self-indulgence; virtue be damned.

This catalog of excerpts from bestselling wonderful writers with their acclaimed and award-winning novels is offered to our fans as a small token of our appreciation for your loyal support and unfaltering encouragement. It is a free download. While we are at it,permit us to introduce you to some of our long-standing salacious author friends, who we feel are equally deserving of your prurient partnership and support.

© Muffy Wilson (our fearless organizer; please check her out as a thank you for her hard work)

Contributing Award-Winning Authors

Christina Mandara          Dariel Raye                       Muffy Wilson               Siobhan Daiko

Erzabet Bishop               Airicka Phoenix                 Lucy Felthouse            Travis Luedke

Gale Stanley                 Bernard Foong                  Chloe Thurlow            Kiki Howell

Jaye Peaches                 Chantel Rhondeau             LaVerne Thompson   Pablo Michaels

Kayla Stonor                 Charity Parkerson               Leonore Elliott            Kd Grace

Cora Blu                       Lola StVil                             A.K. Michaels

Normandie Alleman       P.T. Macias                        Paige Matthews

Jake Malden                 Marissa Farrar                    Mary J Mccoy-Dressel

AR Von                        Jacqueline George             Athena Marie

Jacintha Topaz             Blak Rayne                        Tabitha Rayne

Jordan K. Rose             Debra Andrews                   Scarlett Flame

CaroleGill                     Ashen White                      Kim Carmichael

Lily Harlem                  Ju Ephraime                        Teresa Noelle Roberts

Arla Dahl                      Sky Purington                     Jade West

Shyla Colt                    Natasha Knight                  Heather Cole

Coming in August

…wait for it…

Your comments encouraged.

Feel free to share! The more teasing anticipation, the better.