Thursday, July 31, 2014

Daryl Devore, Author of Capri's Fate; A Sexy Paranormal Contemporary M/F Erotic Romance

Visiting today is erotic romance author -  Daryl Devoré.   Can you tell the readers a little about yourself? 

Let's  see.

I love to travel. I want to see the world. Literally - I’d go into space in a heartbeat. I’ve touched a piece of the moon, which sounds cool but anybody can do it - just have to visit NASA in Florida.

I create great dinner parties. My friends love it when I call up and say, “I’m bored.” Because that means there’s something scrumptious for dinner and something decadent and chocolate for dessert. Jim, a friend’s husband, has been known to beg for my Trinity Parfait - 3 ingredients - whipped cream, chocolate and sugar. (Nobody is allowed to be on a diet in my house.)

So what actually kicked off your start as an erotic romance novelist? How long have you been writing? 

One thing lead to another and a story that was a romance got "heated up" and crossed the line into erotic and ta da I'm an erotic romance author. How long have I been writing? Seems like forever, but to the point of being published – five years I think.

 How do you come up with your material for your novels?

It could be a thought that pops into my head. Or I could overhear someone say something and that triggers a thought which grows into a scene which blossoms into a book which - at some point, I actually have to type onto my laptop.

What is your favorite genre to write? 

Erotic romance is the only genre I've tried. There are so many sub genres that I can play with – erotic contemporary, erotic paranormal, erotic fantasy, erotic medieval etc.

When you begin a story do you start with character or plot? 

Well since I'm a complete pantster I'd have to say characters, but even that's not right. Sometimes I start with simply a moment in a story. An idea hits me for a scene and then I build on that. Once I had the final line in a book and had to work a story toward it. Someone mentioned dragons and I have a WIP on that. Confusing – yea, well that's me.

Tell us about your latest. What inspired it? 

Capri's Fate was an idea. I didn't actually know I was ready to write another book. I sat down, turned on laptop and spit out chapters 1, 2 and 3. Then I had to figure out where to go with the rest of the story.  See – no plotting. I think I like the creativity of writing myself into corners and then having to figure out how to get out.

And for my final question, what are five things that make Daryl Devoré a happy woman?

Chocolate, my husband, chocolate, my daughter, chocolate - and little furry kittens.

Erotic Contemporary Fantasy

What's a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?

Corporate business woman, Capricious Gray, is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.

Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he's desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents - a fantasy.

Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?


I rippled my fingers across my nipple, which traitorously responded. So did my lower parts. They tingled. The bustier was much tighter than I would have hooked it. My breasts were forced into a way-out-there position. My body liked the restraint. I tickled myself again. My nipple grew firm. Playing with both, I squeezed and pulled until they stood erect and pinky-proud.

"They're beautiful. Continue," the voice urged.

To the flesh on my breast, my fingers were like ice cubes. My areolas contracted. My nipples stiffened. My next touch changed to sandpaper—rough and scratchy. Tingles shivered through my body. Hot, cold, rough, soft—each new sensation was a surprise.

Sweat trickled down my neck. Pressure built deep inside. My hand turned palm up, and the vibrating nipple clamp fell into it.

It took me a moment to figure out what to do. No, Thall didn't send the instructions along, and I hadn't had a chance to read them yet. My bad.

Unclasping it, I encased my nipple then hit the tiny switch. A squeal escaped me as a tiny electric pulse shot through my aroused dusky tip. The other clamp floated in front of me. I secured it onto my left nipple and held my breath.

Snap. Snap.

A surge of lust rushed through my body then centered in my crotch.


Snap. Snap.

The electric pulses were titillating—pun intended—and random, and I found myself waiting for the next. They didn't fire together. Nor did they go off in even patterns. I lay back wallowing in the random sensations they delighted in me. I wanted this to last for hours. A small thought nudge me. How long do tiny cell batteries last?

The arousal gel poured itself over my upper thighs as strong fingertips raked the insides, forcing my legs apart.

Arousing was so the wrong term for the lubricant. Fire would be a more apt description. I've been cooler after a tough hour of hot yoga class.

Sweat rolled in streams from me, yet all I did was rest on silk pillows having my nipples erotically zapped. I pulled my knees up and let them fall. I was fully exposed, and horny as hell. I wanted to be fucked. Needed to be fucked.

The bottle of warming gel flipped pouring liquid heat down my crotch. My glass penis hung, head down, aimed between my legs.

"Do you want it?"

I groaned.

"Do you want it inside you—mercilessly driving you to a screaming orgasm?”

Do the Fates understand the term – duh!

A hand separated my vulva and began long glides up the insides of my labia. I sighed and sunk to the edge of bliss.


Snap. Snap.

Damn! Forgot about the nipple clamps.

The long fondles turned to tiny flicks tickling my labia and inner thighs.

I squirmed and wiggled. Fire danced over my body. "Touch me!"

"Where?" His voice brushed past me ear.

"My clit."

Every sensation stopped. I think my heart did too. I didn't breathe.

Time-stopping, scorching strokes on the smallest part of my body. My fingers dug into the pillows as I experienced the most mind-fucking sensation ever and released an intense scream of joy.


"Again?" His voice was soft and tinted with humor.

"Yes!" It was more of a snarl than a polite response.


What people are saying about Capri's Fate.

5 Stars - Found myself laughing out loud several times, which is a breath of fresh air for erotic novels.

5 Stars - Truly very creative lovemaking. I had to stop to fan myself and sigh a lot of times. My toes really curled.

Buy Links


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Daryl Devore lives in an in old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two cats, a large salt water aquarium full of fish and some ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, or snow shoe across the back acres and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flew high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.

Where to find me

Blog -

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Google+ - Daryl Devore

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Bonus Excerpt!

My erotic adventure began the minute he whispered, "Do you happen to own a pair of red, fuzzy handcuffs?"

Well okay, it didn't exactly start there. If I'm going to be perfectly honest, I think it started with Kat's text: "Meet me at - insert name of five-star restaurant here."

Kat is always getting me to take her out for expensive dinners. I don't mind, I'm a high paid executive, in a very large corporation, while she's a receptionist in a small dental office. Besides, I like good food and her company.

Kat and I have been BFFs since third grade. We were in each other's wedding parties, and cried on each other's shoulders at our subsequent divorces. Now, we're each other's go to person whenever the mood strikes. Obviously, the mood struck and it involved my credit card. I texted back a reply –"Xavier's. 6 pm."

~ * * ~

Kat waited outside the restaurant when my cab pulled up to the curb. "Timing or what? I just got here."
After the requisite cheek kiss we stepped up to the Maitre D'. He smiled his, I- must-be-friendly-because-they're-guests, smile and escorted us to our table. We ordered drinks and chatted. We talked about the weather, her new dress, my job—you know, just old—no, scratch old, put longtime—girlfriend stuff.
After a diet conscious meal, followed by a calorie-loaded dessert, we waited outside for a taxi.

"Do you trust me?" With a goofy grin on her face, Kat's dark chocolate mellowed-from-too-much-wine, eyes gazed at me.

Having seen that innocent demeanor before; it meant nothing but trouble. I was a bit wary. Okay, a lot wary! The last time she'd gawked at me like that and asked the same brainless question, we ended up at a frat house beer slosh during Homecoming and I wasn't in college anymore.

A cab pulled up and stopped. She grabbed my arm and dragged me into it. "Convention Center."
I slid next to her and shut the car door. "What's at the convention center?"

"That's the trust me bit." She raised her hands and flicked two fingers up and down at the words "trust me".
You have to love air-quotes.

I checked my Blackberry for messages then glanced at her. "Is this going to get me arrested? Again?"
She shook her head.

"Is it going to get me hit on—again—by horny, beer-soaked, college drunks?"

Kat giggled.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Sacrifices of the Siren by Bella Settarra. An Erotic, Futuristic Fantasy, Romance.

What hold does the evil Hermandine have over Melantho?  Why is she blackmailing her into leaving Refrainia to go and be her servant on Eastland?

SIRENS AND SAILORS #6                                            

This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, July 30th.

[Siren Allure: Erotic Futuristic Fantasy Romance, M/F/M not involving the main characters, HEA]


Just when Melantho is beginning to really enjoy life on the island with her beloved sailor, Blandon, she is visited by the evil elder Hermandine.  The old lady manages to blackmail Melantho into leaving Refrainia to live a life of drudgery as her servant on the mainland.

When Hermandine and Solon mistreat and abuse the poor girl to the extent that she has becomes ill, Blandon and Dr. Jay discover the secret she has been hiding for the past three years.  As Melantho battles with her health and her miserable past, Blandon showers her with love and strength.  Eventually it seems that she can face her future by resolving the past, but when Hermandine reveals an ancient law of Refrainia Melantho has to decide whether to sacrifice her past once again, or forgo her future on the island with Blandon.


“But we can’t,” Melantho whispered, “Sapphire will be home.” She giggled as Blandon took her hand and led her up the short path to her stone hut. He really was gorgeous, with his light brown hair which hung around his shoulders, and his big green eyes which twinkled with mischief. His mouth seemed to be in a permanent smile, and he had the most dazzling, perfect teeth.

“She won’t mind. Besides, she’ll be busy herself.” He grinned as he winked at her and Melantho blushed. Even in the semi-darkness she was sure he could see how red her cheeks were.

“But it’s not dark enough yet.” Melantho protested with a smile.

Blandon sighed as they reached the door of the little hut she shared with Sapphire. “It’s OK if you don’t want to.” His voice was sad but understanding.

Melantho reached up to his soft cheek and stroked it tenderly. They had had this discussion so many times before and each time she got a little nearer to giving in to what she really wanted. What he also wanted. The familiar feeling churned in her stomach and she found herself wanting to cry. She sniffed and quickly looked away from his handsome face as she felt the hot tears prick the edges of her eyes.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” His hand was on her face now, wiping a tear which had made its bid for freedom down her hot face.

“It’s not your fault. It’s just me.” She just managed to get the words out before great sobs heaved up from the back of her throat and she gulped to try to push them back down.

“Come on, let’s go inside and talk for a bit.” Blandon’s voice was as gentle as his hands as he wiped away another tear before ushering her into the house.

It was even darker inside, and he lit a candle to lead them to the little table and chairs which sat by the open window. There was no moon tonight and it was already getting late.

Melantho sat on the chair opposite him, trembling as she fought back her tears. He gave her a handkerchief and she wiped her face. She felt his strong hands reach for hers across the little table and she gladly placed hers in them. She felt safe in his hands. He was her hero for so many reasons.

“I love you, Mel. I just want to hold you in bed, that’s all. We don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want to. I would be happy just to feel you next to me, honestly I would.”

She stared up at his big, emerald eyes. They were kind eyes. She loved those eyes. She loved him. A warm glow burned in her stomach and she stared at the table in front of her. I don’t want to just be held. I want to make love. How could she ever tell him how she really felt?

“I love you, too, Blandon,” she whispered.

A massive smile spread across his worried face and he gasped at the admission.

Melantho couldn’t help but smile back. She secretly felt proud of herself for being able to tell him that much at least. He had told her he loved her several times, but she had never told him how she felt. She sighed as a weight lifted from her shoulders. It felt like a start, a step in the right direction. A sudden noise from Sapphire’s room startled her and she jumped up. She wasn’t sure whether it was giggling or crying. Blandon seemed a little wary as Melantho glanced over at him before making her way to the far bedroom. She put her ear to the rough wooden door before turning the handle. She gasped. Blandon was suddenly behind her, holding her gently as she stared into the darkness.


Melantho was already inside the bed, covered by a large Elmwood leaf, by the time he was undressed and he giggled.

“Mel, you are so beautiful, why are you so modest about your body? You’re perfect, surely you don’t have issues with it?” He sounded incredulous but kind, as he snuggled in beside her.

“It’s just the way I am.” She nudged against him, relishing in his warm body.

“Well I guess you’re not used to all this yet are you?” He stroked her body as he lay on his side.

“What do you…?” Her words were lost as his mouth covered hers in another deep, lingering kiss. She could smell his musky scent along with his heat and her breathing started to become heavier again. The glow flared up inside her tummy once more and she felt her whole body start to burn deliciously. His tongue took over her mouth, and his hands swept down and removed her bikini bra. Her mind was turning to mush as he reached down and began to slide her bikini briefs down. As she bent her knees to allow him to remove them a panic ripped through her body and she jerked upward.

His strong hand held her back down as he chuckled into her mouth. With the other hand he took the panties from her and she kicked her legs in protest.

“Shh, it’s all right,” he whispered when she almost bit his tongue to end the kiss.

“But…” She wasn’t sure what she was trying to say so she just stared up at him.

She saw his confidence turn to concern in a nanosecond and his hand came straight back up to stroke her face.

“Tell me.”

She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what she would say even if she could. Her mouth went dry and she felt her throat tighten. Her body was still burning, craving for his touch. Her head was screaming at her to stop him. She just stared into his big, kind eyes and forced herself to breathe.

Blandon slid onto his back and pulled her against him. She snuggled into him as her mind whirled. She loved the feel of his hot flesh next to hers, and his scent enveloped her in a cloud of safety. Melantho closed her eyes and breathed him in. She laid her head on his strong chest and heard his patient heart beating steadily. Her tension began to ease as he held her in his muscular arms. She felt him gently kiss her hair and she sighed. Slowly she began to calm down and her thoughts began to rationalize. It’s dark. He can’t see me. Even without the covers he wouldn’t be able to see everything. I want him. I really want to make love with him. Tonight.

She opened her eyes. It really was pitch dark. She put a hand out and felt the hard muscle of his chest. It was smooth. She felt it rise and fall with his breathing for a while before she let her hand drift down to his taut stomach. Again there was just muscle and smooth skin. Gorgeous. Slowly she let her hand trail down a little further. His hip bone jutted out, making a soft valley down toward his pubic region. She took a few deep breaths before allowing herself to explore the little coarse hairs. The warm glow had returned to her stomach and it burned brighter as she toyed with his body. She heard him give a little gasp and felt a twitch as his cock nudged her hand. It felt warm and hard, but the skin was beautifully smooth. It was even thicker than she expected, and she could feel it growing larger and harder as she stroked it. She felt his hand grasp her shoulder as his breathing hitched and she took his throbbing member in her hand.

Slowly she began to pull the smooth skin through her fingers, and felt a stream of hot liquid flow over them. Beneath her head she could hear his heart beating rapidly and she felt his breathing speed up and become deeper. A thrill of excitement ran through her at the realization that she was turning him on.

Melantho felt him stroke her shoulder gently before his hand slipped to the outer edge of her breast. A wonderful tingle inside her warmed her through. She felt her nipple tighten to a hard nub before he even touched it. His hand was soft as it trailed rings over her pulsating breast and she willed him to reach her most sensitive tip. He continued to torment her and she felt her breathing quicken in anticipation.

His fingers drifted nearer and nearer until, at last, his forefinger stroked her hard nipple. It must have been directly linked to her pussy, as a whoosh of liquid escaped her and she gasped at the sensations which streaked through her body.

She felt him move and looked up to see his lips coming toward hers as he engulfed her in a mind-blowing, possessive kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, digging in and out. Her pussy continued to weep as she imagined the hard cock in her hand slowly entering her. He pulled her on top of him and she felt the length of his rock hard dick against her pussy. She instinctively pressed herself against him.

“Ride me,” he whispered close to her ear.

She stared at him. “But I’ve never…”

“I know. Trust me, you’ll be in control.” His words were gentle but confident. She felt empowered by them.

He held her hips as she sat up. The cool air wafted over her breasts and she suddenly felt exposed. As if reading her mind, he held onto her arms, preventing her from covering herself. She looked down. Through the thick darkness she could just make out the shape of her large breasts. She could see the outline of his masculine face and his beautiful smile. Shadows highlighted his chest muscles which rippled as he moved. His biceps were barely visible as he held onto her hands. As she took in the sight of him she became even more aroused and soon forgot to feel self-conscious.

“Do you want me, love?” he whispered tenderly, but she could detect a coarseness which suggested his passion was mounting.

“Yes.” She gazed at his lovely face as he lifted her onto his massive cock.

Buy Link:


Bella’s love of writing started at a very young age.  While at Junior School, she was once asked to write a story that was to be displayed on the window due to lack of wall space (remember Portakabins?)  Unfortunately, once she gets going she tends to run with an idea right up until the conclusion – and it has to have a happy ending!  The story was so long it covered several windows and caused a blackout in the tiny classroom!

She is British and lives in the beautiful English countryside with one of her three gorgeous daughters and her wonderful husband, often referred to as her “current husband” just to keep him on his toes!  They live in a big haunted house therefore Bella’s housework is never done as the ghost keeps moving things around - the bedroom isn’t the only place where things go bump in the night ;)

Open top cars and country music are among Bella’s favourite things and her fondness for shopping is only surpassed by her love of Châteauneuf-du-pape.

Bella would love to hear from her readers.  

Connect with her at:

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Keeping Sarah, a New M/M/F Contemporary BDSM Erotic Menage by Julie Shelton, Plus Meet Her Dom, Jesse Colter


Honeymooning in England, Jesse Colter, Adam Sinclair and their beloved wife, Sarah, are heading for their friend Thorne Cahill’s BDSM club for dinner when another car deliberately tries to run them off the road.  Thanks to their own driver’s skills, the other car is destroyed, the two unknown occupants killed.

Through Thorne, they discover that they’re the targets of a “blood feud”, instigated by Konstandin Sokolov, son of Viktor Sokolov, the Albanian mobster who had unwisely kidnapped Sarah a few months back, and paid for it with his life.  They also discover that Thorne’s guests, ruthless human traffickers, have gathered for a slave auction being held the following night.  Konstandin Sokolov happens to be one of the buyers.

Fraught with treachery, betrayal, and deadly danger, Keeping Sarah keeps the reader on a knife’s edge of tension, while simultaneously exploring the deepening emotional commitment between Jesse and Adam.  They already trust each other with their lives.  Now they must learn how to trust each other with their love.


Then Jesse turned to Sarah.  Bending down, he put his hands beneath her arms and lifted her up off the floor.  Turning her in his arms, he unhooked the garters, then unlaced the corset, letting it fall to the silk carpet.  As soon as the beautiful, but restrictive garment fell away from her, Sarah took the first deep breath she’d had in hours.

“Step out of your shoes, baby,” he crooned, rolling down her stockings and removing them one foot at a time.  “Now bend over and grab your ankles.  I owe you a spanking.”

With a whimper, she assumed the undignified position, her second of the night, wrapping her fingers around her ankles while he got on his knees behind her to remove the vibrators from her pussy and ass.  Dropping the toys on top of the crumpled corset, he palmed her ass cheeks, his flexing fingers making deep indentations in her sweet flesh.

“Spread your legs, baby, or you’re gonna fall over.”  A smile curved his lips upward as she slid her feet outward.  God, I love this ass!  He slapped her sharply, the sound and her subsequent cry loud in the quiet room.  “Count,” was all he said, transfixed by the erotic sight of his handprint blooming on her skin, first white, then red.

“Y-yes, Master.  O-one.”

“How many have you earned tonight, slave?”

“Ten, Master.”  Her voice was barely audible, muffled by her position.

“There will be no warm-up, so I’ll make them quick.  Count them all.”  In rapid succession, he delivered ten blistering swats to her backside and by the time she counted the last one, her ass was fiery red and she was sobbing in pain.

Crap, that hurt!  And yet, it felt so good.  So damn good.  The heat from her ass seemed to be having an effect on her clit, as if the two were connected by wires pulsing and crackling with electricity.  Her sobs turned into moans as he stroked and kneaded the heat more deeply into her flesh, sending it straight to her pussy until her clit felt like it was on fire.

Still gripping her ass cheeks, he lowered his head, slanting it sideways to flick the tip of his tongue across her throbbing little nub.  She jerked and cried out as pleasure consumed her.  Then he straightened, pulling her up after him, and steered her toward the bed.  If Adam was in sub-space, then Sarah was right there with him, lost and drifting and needing Jesse’s loving care.  It was now his duty and responsibility to love them and keep them safe and give them the pleasure they had both earned and richly deserved.

“Climb up, baby,” he said, assisting her up onto the bed.  “On your hands and knees above Adam, pussy over his face, head over his cock.”

As he was talking, he, too, was getting on the bed, crawling across its enormous expanse toward Adam’s feet.  “Legs apart,” he ordered and Adam slid his feet across the silky sheets.  “Prepare Sarah.”

At the quiet command, Sarah’s core convulsed again, sending out another gush of fresh cream.  God, she was so ready to come!  She had been so highly aroused for so long, now that it was finally going to happen, it was all she could focus on.  Without warning, Adam reached up and stroked his fingers through her slit, from front to back before thrusting two fingers deep inside her sheath hovering so tantalizingly above his head.

He pressed his thumb against her puckered anal opening, pushing insistently, until the muscle relaxed and sucked it in.  Sarah stopped breathing.  With wicked skill, he thrust in and out of both her anus and vagina, pinching the membrane between his thumb and fingers as he stroked, quickly re-stoking the fires of need in her sex, burning just beneath the surface.  A thin, high wail escaped her lips as pleasure devoured her.

“Christ, Jess,” Adam muttered over the wet, sucking noises his fingers were making as he pumped them in and out of Sarah’s sheath, “you should see what I’m seeing.  Our little slave has the most succulent pussy in the world.  And it’s dripping all over the place.”

“Sarah,” Jesse ordered, “Take Adam into your mouth.”


1.  Tell us a little about yourself. How did you come to your author’s attention? Occupation?

My name is Jesse Colter.  I’m 32, a former SEAL, now Chief of Police of Marshall’s Creek, Virginia, the small, sleepy town I grew up in.  My childhood basically sucked—my father was a drunk and a bully who used me for his punchin’ bag—until I was fourteen and bigger than he was, so he pretty much steered clear of me after that. 

I never knew my Native American mother.  She disappeared before I was outta diapers.  My father always claimed she ran away with another man, but I’ve always suspected he killed her one night in a drunken rage and disposed of her body.  I came to my author’s attention the day I rescued her heroine, Sarah Marshall, from falling out of a tree.  

Actually, that’s not quite true.  I came to her attention long before that.  She just had to think about me for a while and get to know me before she decided to let it be me who rescued Sarah.  She wanted us to have a happy ending, even though she kept us apart for eight years before givin’ it to us. (Lol)

2.  What or who is the greatest love of your life? Why? What drew you to them?

Sarah Marshall is the only woman I have ever loved, the only woman I ever will love.  I met her the summer she was 13.  I was workin’ as an assistant gardener at Marshall’s Hill, the ante-bellum estate where she grew up.  I heard this blood-curdlin’ shriek and when I ran to find out where it was comin’ from, there she was, danglin’ upside down from a broken tree limb 30 feet above the ground.  Scared the livin’ sh-daylights outta me!  I was nineteen and full of my own teen-age crap, but Sarah, oh, my God…[shakes his head]…she just fascinated me.

She was this amazin’ combination of child and adult.  She grew up rich, but her childhood sucked as much as mine did, except she wasn’t beaten.  Just ignored.  Her father was a judge, a self-important, self-righteous little prick who had no time for his only child, so she was pretty much raised by tutors and nannies.  She was the first person who treated me like I really mattered, you know?  The first person who ever really listened to me.  She actually valued my opinion!  She bullied me into readin’ all her favorite books just so she could have someone to discuss them with.  She turned me into an avid reader, for which I’ll always be grateful.

When I hired on the next summer, she had entered puberty and had filled out.  Boy, had she filled out!  God, she was so gorgeous and I knew I was in trouble.  When I was at work, I couldn’t stop lookin’ at her and when I was anywhere else, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about her.  But I was bad news.  Six years older than her, a biker, and a Dom.  

And even though I suspected she was a natural submissive, she was still just a kid, and I knew if I claimed her, I would ruin her life.  After all, she was rich, the daughter of a judge, the descendant of English aristocrats, while I was the bastard son of a Native American prostitute and the town drunk.  At that point, my life was a steamin’ pile of crap.  What kind of a future could I possibly give her?

I didn’t show up the next summer, but still saw her every night in my dreams.  I tried to stay away from her, but kept seein’ her around town, even rescued her from gettin’ into a truck and goin’ off with three guys who were even worse than me.  Boy, were they pissed!  Then, three years later, my cousin over-heard a couple of those guys laughin’ and gigglin’ about raidin’ Sarah’s eighteenth birthday party and havin’ some “fun.”

So I hopped on my bike and rode out to her place to try and stop ’em.  I managed to keep the one guy from rapin’ Sarah, but I had wanted her so badly for so long that when she threw herself at me and begged me to make love to her…I very nearly did.  I left town that night.  Just sneaked out without sayin’ good-bye to the only person who’d ever really mattered to me. 

I hitched a ride to Norfolk where I found myself the next mornin standin’ in a seedy, rundown strip mall, starin’ at the Navy recruitment office.  I enlisted that day.  I’ll never regret joinin’ the Navy, but I will regret to my dyin’ day the decision to leave Sarah the way I did, with no word of explanation, no good-bye, no word at all for eight long years.  It was a crappy thing to do because it wound up nearly destroyin’ both of us.  Believe me, I will spend the rest of my life makin’ it up to her.  Because now that I have her, I can’t imagine ever livin’ without her.

3.  What’s your greatest fear?

My greatest fear is losin’ Sarah.  I already lost her once, that night I left town.  It took me eight year to admit how much I needed her, and how wrong I’d been to leave her.  I nearly lost her again when I introduced her to my best friend, Adam Sinclair, and told her we wanted to share her in a D/s menage relationship.  Adam was already in love with her just from hearin’ me talk about her while we were servin’ with the SEALs over in Afghanistan.  But I needn’t have worried.  As soon as they met each other, the attraction was instantaneous.

It was like…completin’ the circle.  Then I almost lost her when her ex-fiance tried to kidnap her in order to get hold of her money.  Fortunately we got to her in time.  Once the SOB who nearly raped her got out of prison, he kidnapped her and sold her to a slave trafficker.  Nearly got away with it, too.   Adam and I were terrified we wouldn’t get to her before she was flown out of the country beyond our reach.

4.  What’s your motto in life?

No secrets.  There must be open, honest communication at all times about everything.  It’s the only way a D/s relationship, especially a menage, can survive and flourish.

5.  How do the other characters in your book view you?

My best friend and brother-in-arms, Adam, knows me as a dom, a fellow SEAL, and a man of principle and integrity.  We love and admire each other as friends, brothers, and, in Keeping Sarah, as lovers.  Sarah, the love of my life, sees me as macho, bossy, domineering, chauvinistic, over-bearing, and annoying.  Oops, I forgot sexy (lol).  She also sees me as one of the two men who love her to the bottom of our souls and who would give our lives to protect her from harm.  The bad guys view me as their worst nightmare.

6.  What is it about you that is going to draw us readers in?

I’m sexy as hell (lol).  Seriously.  I am.  I love fiercely and forever, and will fight to the death to protect those I cherish.  I don’t suffer fools lightly and I abhor bullies and abusers of women—any women.  Women are to be loved, revered, protected and treasured.  With a few spankings, a little harmless torture and lots of orgasms thrown in just to spice things up a bit.  I am, after all, a Dom.  [Grins]

7.  What was your happiest moment?

The first time I had Sarah tied to my bed and she looked up at me, beggin’ me to let her come…I knew I had found my joy.  I knew I would spend the rest of my life wantin’ to make her scream with pleasure.

8.  What trait in others do you find most deplorable?

Dishonesty and lack of respect

9.  What is your favorite time of day?

First thing in the mornin’, when Adam and I wake up with Sarah between us all soft and warm and smellin’ delicious.  We wake her by makin’ slow, sweet love to her, startin’ her day with the gift of pleasure, lettin’ her know just how much we adore her.

Thank you, Jesse Colter, for stopping by and talking to us.  We are looking forward to reading more about you, Adam, and Sarah in Julie Shelton’s Loving Sarah, Owning Sarah and now in the erotic thrill ride that is Keeping Sarah.


“I heartily enjoyed this book. It’s truly an erotic BDSM ménage epic, and it’s extremely well written. The locations are sweeping and exotic, the food is lusciously described, the sex scenes are plentiful and romantic and delightfully perverse. Pacing is breezy throughout, even though this is a fairly long novel, and the suspense plot keeps the reader wanting more. It’s excellent that the menage relationship features a lot of hot M/M scenes between Jesse and Adam, not to mention the pegging by Sarah. I can’t compliment Keeping Sarah highly enough.

Special mention should be made of the Sybian competition and slave auction scenes. These were both highly unique, beautifully written, disturbing, and felt like Sadean ceremonies. The Sybian competition had an exuberance and weirdness about it that was both comical and surreal. It showed great imagination.

The slave auction was nightmarish—imagining this secret organization existing was very frightening. The poetic details were what really made it—the fact that the boy being auctioned was chubby and albino, the disturbing concept of “pony girls,” and the appearance of the sinister Mistress Diabolica. I loved it.”



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Julie has always loved stories, both reading and writing them, ever since she was old enough to hold a book in her hands.  One of her favorite childhood activities was smuggling books under the covers to read by flashlight after she was supposed to be asleep.

A career as a children’s librarian eventually led to her dream career as a freelance storyteller and puppeteer, a business she operated successfully for twenty-five years.  During that time she created and wrote all the original material for Kidstuff, a monthly language arts newsletter full of poems, songs, puppet and flannel-board stories, finger plays, and other resource material for early childhood educators.  

For that endeavor she won the prestigious EDPRESS Award for the best educational newsletter of 1982.  Her 288-page book, Puppets, Poems and Songs was a major resource.  She has also written other resource materials for librarians and preschool and early elementary teachers.

Julie lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.  Now widowed and retired, she once again has time to devote to her two favorite things—reading and writing—especially her new love, erotic romances with strong heroines, hunky alpha-male heroes, and lots of smokin’ hot sex. (y)

Friday, July 25, 2014

The Ideal Side of Life; A New M/M Contemporary Erotic Romance by Blak Rayne!

First, I’d like to thank Peyton for having me at her blog! Very awesome, thank you. My new gay erotic romance novel is out! 

To read the first 10% of my new release, click on the Smashwords purchase link at the bottom of the naughty excerpt!


‘Imperfect, but inescapably a love worth saving.’

Self-made entrepreneur Stephen Pritchard was given a second chance at life and love when he met Carson. However, as of late, their marriage has been anything, but ideal. Aside from the usual occupational hazards and Carson’s inability to communicate emotionally, Stephen’s learned marriage to a police officer, especially an attractive one, comes at a price.

While shopping in the city, Stephen and Carson unexpectedly run into Stephen’s former college buddy Dudley Kramer. During the conversation, Dudley insists they attend an upcoming party at the art gallery he owns. Believing the invitation to be harmless, Stephen convinces Carson to go. 

But part way through the evening, he realizes Dudley’s developed an unhealthy liking for his husband and the party isn’t as it appears. Illegal drugs and partner swapping isn’t something Stephen bargained for, and neither is the chain of events that follow. Disenchantment over the past, arguments, and a near fatal car accident suddenly puts his life into perspective.


Later that night, subsequent to the consumption of a homemade seafood dinner that consisted of stuffed cannelloni and a Caesar salad, we decided to hit the hay early. We’d both had a long day.

Carson stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and flopped out on his stomach, bunching a pillow between his head and arms. After the mattress stopped bouncing and he’d found his comfort zone, he muttered drowsily, “Can you cover me with the sheet?”

“Sure.” Ogling his ass, I removed my tie; no matter the temperature, he always slept in the nude. As for my preference, I was a pussy; anything below sixty-five degrees and I wore pajamas. Grabbing a corner of the blanket, I separated the gray linen sheet from underneath and draped it over him.

“Thanks, baby.” He yawned, hugging the pillow tighter.

“You’re welcome.” Removing my shirt, I dropped it on the chair. Then I kicked off my shoes and unclasped my belt buckle. I couldn’t wait another second—the smooth, muscular curve of his ass under the thin sheet and the way he lay with his legs spread; he was begging to be molested. Crouching like a tiger, I moved in silence toward my target and the edge of the bed, preparing to pounce.

“If you’re going to fuck me, do it quick before I fall asleep.”

“Oh come on!” I exclaimed loudly, throwing both hands up. “How did you know? What—do you have eyes in the back of your head?”

“I didn’t know,” he murmured, shooting a weary glance over his shoulder. “Other than you’re taking too long to undress.”

“You know you’re a frustrating man. Every time I try to be sneaky, you ruin it.”

Snuggling the pillow again, his chuckling was muffled. “That’s because you couldn’t sneak if someone paid you. You’re too obvious.”

“I’m not obvious.”

“You are. The whole point of sneaking around is to avoid getting caught.”

“Why thank you for that useless tidbit of information.” Sitting down hard on the bed, I pulled off a pant leg and caught the other on my heel. “Now I know I’d be a lousy jewel thief.” I frowned in disgust, tossing my pants with the intention they’d land on the chair, but they hit it instead and slid to carpet. A dreary sigh seeped from my lips. I was too damned lazy to pick them up.

“Don’t get upset.”

“I’m not.”

The bed shifted and when I looked, he’d switched around to lie on his back. The sheet did little to hide his thick erection that lay slightly bent against his left thigh. The image triggered a glorious memory of Greece...and the beach. God, we needed to fuck—no romance, just a good old-fashioned fuck.

“I ruined your fun, I’m sorry. How about I pretend you’re not here?” He bent an arm over his eyes, sliding toward the end of the bed, and sank into the bedding, getting more comfortable. “How about something like this?”

When he’d moved, the top sheet had fallen away completely and his muscular torso blanketed in soft, dirty-blond hair appeared. Taking a moment to admire his body, I didn’t readily answer. My cock started to swell.

“Baby, are you still there…?” he asked, the apprehension lingering in his words.

Pressing my hand into the bed, I got down low and put the head of his cock in my mouth and sucked, the tangy mix of perspiration and urine sharp on my tongue. He grunted, rutting his hips, and I dug the tip into his slit. He grunted louder, and I suckled then mouthed his balls, one after the other. 

Working my tongue farther down, I pried his buttocks apart, digging my chin in while moistening his perineum and rimming his hole to a sloppy wet. His reaction was instantaneous; he grinned and his cheeks flushed scarlet. Putting my other hand flat on the mattress to brace my upper torso, I inched a tad higher and kissed the trail of tapering, curly pubic hair to his belly button, his erection rubbing floppily under my chin. Letting the moisture from my lips caress his stomach to chest, his flesh became dappled in goose bumps and his nipples hardened to tiny pebbles.

I flicked and nibbled on the right then switched to nip the left. When I’d finished revving him up to a satisfactory level of arousal, I reached in the nightstand drawer, felt around for the bottle of lube then shook it and squeezed a little onto my open palm.

After I’d made my cock slick, I slid two lubed fingers along the tightening crease of his sac to his hole, and carefully inserted them. His thighs spread wider and he groaned. I played for a while, gentle then rough, ramming deep. When his groans transformed to harsh growls of uncontrolled pleasure, I knew he was teetering on the threshold. Kissing his throat, I removed my fingers, settled on top of him, touching his cock with mine.

“Just do me, baby,” he urged, slapping the right side of my ass, then squeezed. “I want to feel you.”

Rising above him for a split second, I glanced down to guide my shaft. Carson tensed somewhat, pinching his buttocks against the intrusion. But once I penetrated as deeply as possible, he relaxed, melting into a curve, and embraced me.

Normally, I was a great deal calmer, a regular Casanova, but that night I wanted straight ecstasy—to get off as fast as possible. Moving strongly, in and out, I breathed harder and faster. Our bare, sweat-coated skin slapped on contact. Minutes in, we both grunted and an extreme heat almost flash-burned my stomach. We’d both blown our loads simultaneously and his spunk had made a trail up my chest. Putting his hands to my back, he hugged my upper body and I fell onto the bed with him.

“I love you.” He kissed me everywhere excitedly, pushed me backward into the comforter, pinioned my wrists above my head, and lifted a dense, muscular leg to straddle my lap. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Huh,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath and wits. I was dazed, enjoying the fleeting tingle of euphoria.

While maintaining his vice like grip on my wrists, Carson snatched the tissue box from the nightstand. He fumbled with it, yanking out the white squares. “I’m going to make love to you,” he said, wiping us both clean with the massive wad. Then he stuffed the used tissues inside the empty box and tossed it over his shoulder.

The lust ended with Carson sleeping soundly while spooning me, and me thinking about what the notary had said. I have no idea why the living wills came to mind. After the jungle sex, I should’ve been exhausted and collapsed into a peaceful nothingness. 

But I couldn’t. I lay there for over an hour, staring into the dark, contemplating everything from our anniversary and Christmas, to what breed of dog I preferred, and whether I should purchase Carson a newer vehicle. Then I awoke to the alarm clock beeping.

While Carson was at work, I assembled the targets I’d bought for practice in the backyard. Robin Hood. Eat your heart out! Life was uneventful, for the most part. Then, something weird happened, causing a chain of events to unravel that put my fortitude to the test and altered our life together as a couple forever.


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A Sexy Snax from Willa Edwards, Featuring Her New Contemporary Romance; Valentine Next Door

The Many Guilty Pleasures of Miranda Valentine

Authors are often asked how they get in touch with their characters, how they discover all the ins and outs of the person they’ll be writing about. And just like everything else that has to do with writing, every writer has their own way of getting in touch with that voice. For some its character maps, for others its stream of consciousness writing or working with the emotional toolbox.

For me, it’s all about finding that one defining detail about the character that brings them out of their shell, that makes their voice stand up and scream in my head. For every character that defining detail is different. For some it’s an important moment from their childhood, for others it’s their passion or how the rest of the world sees them.

For Miranda Valentine, the heroine of my most recent release, Valentine Next Door, that defining piece of the puzzle was her guilty pleasures. Miranda has several guilty pleasures, many of which I think most woman can relate to. She likes chocolate, and makes a mean mocha fudge cake. She likes ice cream. She likes romantic comedies, especially those set in exotic locations. And she really like young fit men, like her next door neighbor Jeremy.

But through her guilty pleasures I came to realize exactly how lonely and sad Miranda is. How much she wants someone to love. A family. It is through these guilty pleasures that I could see into her heart, to what she truly wants and needs. And most of all, it explained to me how Jeremy, a man almost ten years her junior, could satisfy those needs and fill in those missing pieces in her heart. Whether Miranda realizes he’s capable of it or not.

I love Miranda. And I hope you’ll all love her too. She’s definitely not perfect, but she’s real, and someone I have no trouble identifying with. To learn more about Miranda, and her guilty pleasures, keep reading for an excerpt from my new release, Valentine Next Door, now available with Totally Bound Publishing.


Jeremy Callahan has been in love with his next door neighbor, Miranda Valentine, since he was fifteen years old. As a teen he used to watch her, fantasising about how he could make her his. But he never acted on it. Miranda was older, married and out of his league. Forced to return home ten years later after being injured on a photo shoot, all those old feelings return, and this time there's no reason to keep them at bay. She might be a decade older than him, but Jeremy's not about to let a few numbers stand in his way.

Since her husband's death, Miranda's been left with a big hole in her life. Never able to fulfil her dream to be a mom, Miranda isn't sure what to do with herself. She certainly isn't expecting to find the most gorgeous man she's ever met next door. She can't believe Jeremy Callahan is that sexy younger man, or that he's had a crush on her for years. When he kisses her, all bets are off. Jeremy's young, gorgeous and makes her feel more than anyone has before.

But she knows he can't want the same things she does. He can't be ready to settle down and start a family, but she's running out of time. Will her dream of being a mother keep her from the man she loves? Or can they find some middle ground where they both can get everything they want?

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Miranda dropped her purse on the entryway table, slipping her pumps off beside the console. It was Friday, finally. All she wanted was to change into her sweats and lounge around the house for the rest of the night. But she had to run over to the Callahans’ first.

After all they’d done for her during her husband Leo’s illness and death, the least she could do was bring over her famous mocha fudge Bundt cake and offer to help in any way she could. She knew how difficult it could be to take care of a sick family member. Cindy Callahan had been so understanding and supportive throughout Leo’s entire bout with lymphoma and the months afterwards, coming to check on her, dropping off food and helping her with thank-you notes. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to pay them back. True, Jeremy’s injury wasn’t life threatening, but still, a little extra chocolate never hurt anyone’s ails.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed the Tupperware container filled with more chocolate calories than she’d consumed in three years, then headed next door. The neighborhood was quiet this time of night, the streets almost empty. Everyone must be at home eating dinner together. Besides her, the cul-de-sac was comprised mostly of families. Any other hour than dinnertime, the streets were filled with kids riding bikes, playing hockey or skipping rope. It’s why she and Leo had purchased a house in this community. They thought it was a great place to raise their children. Unfortunately, those dreams hadn’t materialized.

She hastily climbed the porch steps, balancing the cake in one hand while pushing the doorbell with her left index finger. If she was lucky, the Callahans would be in the middle of dinner and she could just drop off the cake and head back home. She was already looking forward to settling down in front of the television to watch the latest romantic comedy Netflix had sent her, something about finding love in the wilds of Africa. That and the carton of ice cream that wouldn’t be taking up space in her freezer for much longer.

The door slid open and one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen stood in the doorway. His dark hair was cut short. His chocolate-colored eyes focused on her and she swallowed. He looked at her with such intensity her skin tingled. His red T-shirt clung to a chiseled chest, and a pair of dark sweats bunched up around the cast molded to his right leg.

“Jeremy?” This couldn’t be little Jeremy Callahan standing before her. The man holding the door open was very different from the boy who had left home.

But he has to be. How many men could the Callahans have wandering around their house with a broken leg?

He smiled at her with the same boyish grin he’d given her that first morning she and Leo had moved into the neighborhood. She still remembered him standing in his driveway playing basketball with one of his buddies a few weeks before his first days of high school.

Jeremy had always been tall, but as a kid he’d been skinny and lanky. He’d definitely grown into his height. His chest was now broad and solid. His biceps flexed as he dropped the doorknob, crossing his arms along his chest. Even his waist was thick with muscle, the kind that would be defined beneath that red T-shirt.

“Hi, Mrs Valentine.”

She cleared her throat, gripping the cake container a little tighter in her sweaty hands. “Please, Jeremy. You’re not in school anymore. You don’t have to call me Mrs Valentine. Miranda is fine.”

“Okay. Hi, Miranda.”

She liked the sound of her name on his lips. It took her a second to realize she’d never heard him say it before. He’d always been a very polite boy, always respectful. But she was starting to like the man a lot better.

“Well, I...uh, made this for you and your folks. Just a little I-hope-you-feel-better cake.” She handed the dessert to Jeremy, forcing herself to stop rambling.

He grabbed the Tupperware container with quick hands that looked much bigger than they used to.

“Thank you.” He glanced down at the Bundt cake. “Is this mocha fudge?”

She nodded.

“Good. I always loved that cake.” He leaned forward a little, as though to tell her a secret, his mouth moving toward hers.

His woodsy, masculine smell wafted to her across the space between them. His heat and strong presence calling her like a moth to a flame.

“I’ve always had quite a sweet tooth.” He grinned at her. Her mind flashed to what else he could do with those teeth. Those lips. That mouth.

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Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Alani's Bigger Hustle and Alani's Hustle Get's Bigger By Kai Storm.

Author Kai Storm is a new face in the Urban Literary world, has brought us shining jewels called Alani’s Bigger Hustle & Alani’s Hustle Gets Bigger. Kai was born in Panama in 1972 and came to New York in 1981 with her mother.

She discovered her writing gift as a junior at Boys & Girls High School when an English teacher gave her an assignment to develop a story from just one paragraph and since then, her pen was hot. Througth the years, Kai continued to write any and everything not only to keep her gift alive but also for therapeutic reasons, either way her pen and paper kept her sane.

In December 2007, Kai was working at a hospital as a temp and even though the assignment was over the first week of December the hospital kept her on for two more weeks just so that she would have money for Christmas presents but there was nothing for her to do during those two weeks so she decided to pen the first three chapters of Alani’s Bigger Hustle. Only after she submitted the first three chapters did she decide to write the rest of the book “just to see what I would do with it”, and when she pushed this out, it was nothing but fire!

“This story literally lived inside of me since I was 12 years old, it grew up with me and I knew one day it would be out in the world for all to see, it just had too!”

Kai was first signed to a publishing house in August 2008 and because she was so excited about the whole venture she never fully researched the company and the works they produced and because Kai had her own personal life issues, she never fully pushed for the book to be released. Once things in her life calmed down and she was ready to be published, in October 2010 she discovered the company was not all ready to put out her book and through Author to Author connections that she made on Facebook, she found a publishing company that was not only ready, they couldn’t wait to sign her on. This company was Twenty First Street Urban Editing and Publishing, LLC and they along with Kai, brought Alani’s Bigger Hustle to life.

When meeting Kai for the first time, you can see the excitement that she has about her book, the confidence and the great work ethic she exudes is intense and the best part of all is that it’s genuine to the core. Kai always has promotional information about her book, upcoming book signings and events and anything she is currently working on, and if you are an up and coming author seeking advice, Kai will go above and beyond to provide all the information you need because “If we supported each other more we could rule the world!”

Kai is not only a writer but also a mom. In 1997 Kai was blessed with her first daughter named Africa who taught her the real meaning of life and responsibility and the lesson was so overwhelmingly beautiful that she had another daughter named Agodess in 2009. All in all, Kai is a woman that is thankful for all her blessings and plans to continue writing as long as she can.

Her third novel is promising to be hot thriller; it’s called You Just Don’t Know, it’s written under genre erotica kink and the best part of all….Miss Kai Storm is gracing the cover of her third book! Kai has recently been hired to write inspirational stories for Elation Magazine and because she brings a sense of ‘real’ to the table Elation also gave her the responsibility of running their author feature section called Kai’s Corner and she wrote a contributing story for a group collaboration book called Sistah’s With Ink Voices.

In the near future, you will hear about another anthology called Lipstick 3 where Kai will be dropping another jewel called “Love Vibe” as she continues to do book signings and events around the country. For now you can look out for her collaboration with Black Books Publishing on a anthology called 21st Century Black Erotica in which she has a hot story called “I am Your Master”.

On Facebook, Kai is nicknamed “The hardest worker in the business!” and when you meet her you know why, as soon as you see the hat with her book names on it and that smile, you know why!

Kai Storm

World Renowned Author of Urban Literature
Twenty First Street Urban Editing & Publishing, LLC.

You Can Buy Her Books On Amazon:

You Just Don't Know-

Alanis Hustle Gets Bigger-

Alanis Bigger Hustle-

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Tuesday, July 22, 2014

It's Our Blog Hop! Featuring Your Favorite Siren Authors and Their Friends... Plus Two Free Reads...

I welcome Lynn to my blog.  She is a fellow author and blog hopper!

PBC: Hi Lynn!

LBD: Hello Peyton. :) 

PBC: Tell us about yourself...

LBD:  Sure!

Lynn B. Davidson lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of almost twenty years and two kids. If she isn’t writing, it’s usually because she is driving a carpool or volunteering at one of her kids' activities.

Lynn’s favorite pastime is reading. She especially enjoys erotic romance, mystery, mainstream romance, science fiction, suspense, and young adult fiction.

Lynn has dozens of story ideas dancing in her head. It will just be a matter of time, before she stops daydreaming about the characters and starts telling their story.

Visit her website at:

Thanks Lynn!


I guess that means I'm up next!

A little about me...

1.  What are you working on?

I am so excited about this next project.  It's very new and different for me as it is stepping into some territory that I'd never thought I'd broach in public before...BDSM.  This next book, possibly a series is a menage featuring a husband and wife seeking a dom to be the third in their marriage.

The husband is a switch and the wife is very submissive, while the dom that is chosen is very smooth, elegant, aristocratic and British.  There are some other neat surprises but I'll leave that for you all to read when the book comes out.

2.  How does your work differ from others in the genre?

Whenever I write a story/book, I ask myself, is this something I'd be interested in reading?  If the answer is no, I won't write it.  And then while I am writing, I ask myself this question, would this keep me interested.  If the answer is yes, I press on.  If not, then I rework it to see if I can make the story better.  With that said, I try to write things that I've not read in other stories.

This story crosses boundaries that are usually not crossed in these books.  My men tend to be hot blooded and lacking an even temperament side.  Don't get me wrong they are not mean, violent, or abusive, they are just very passionate and often express themselves in a louder tone when they are angry.

3.  Why do you write what you write?

Mostly because the book I'm writing hasn't been written and I have a hankering to read it.  So the only way that is going to happen is if I write it.

4.  How does your writing process work?

Routine, routine, routine.  Their is a daily ritual I do before writing which includes checking e-mail.  Once that is done (whether day or night) I begin to write--- hopefully something good.

My first book with Siren Bookstrand is available now.  


[Ménage Amour: Erotic Sci-Fi/Paranormal Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, HEA]

Time is running out for CIA Agent Colton McClain. Caught between two worlds, he must choose—his Ferae side or human; he can’t have both. Haunted by his own failures and his family's past, Colton refuses to follow their same path. His wife Lizzie and his husband Jarrod are caught in the middle. Threatened by the townspeople for having a marriage with two alpha males instead of the traditional alpha and beta, the clock is ticking on how long they can live together as a family. Add on the fact that one of them gets the Rut because of their unconventional relationship, all bets are off that they will maintain the happiness they so desire. But their love is strong; still, can it defeat Colton’s fears? He is the key. Now he must act.

A Siren Erotic Romance


After having dropped Brody off with his parents, Lizzie was finally able to go home and prepare her husbands’ dinner. She sat down on the sofa in the family room and watched as her men as they ate their dinner and played their wretched video game. Not particularly hungry, she took small bites as she watched them hassle each other over their tactics.

“Hahaha! The cops are after you,” Jarrod mocked. He wore his baseball cap backward, causing a tendril of sandy blond hair to hang out of its side. Lean and muscular with a medium frame, his six-foot-two-inch build held no hint to the real physical strength he was able to muster.

Of the two, he was more introspective. Sometimes she often thought it was because he was a rogue. They were naturally quiet and solitary. But Colton was a rogue, too, and he was the exact opposite, at least when it came to the quiet part. A thinker, Jarrod did not move before planning the whole thing out. Unobtrusive, he could be standing beside someone in the room and the person would not even know that he was there, much less hear him come in. He was also the most secretive about what he did outside their home. Whenever she asked, he’d reply that it had nothing to do with their life here.

“Thanks to Jarrod’s wrangling, he messed up all of my stashes,” Colton complained. With hair the color of raw sienna, cut short with small waves tapering toward his neck, hollow, piercing, icy blue eyes, and a body like steel, she gave thanks every day that he was her alpha. A handful nonetheless, he was her handful, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“With all that happens in the world today, I would think you’d want to play something less violent.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, true, but they don’t make an interesting version of the Care Bears game,” Colton quipped, jerking at the game’s controller.

“Do they have a Divorce Court one?” she asked dryly.

“Not for the Ferae,” Colton replied, not looking up. “Honey, get me a beer?”

Jarrod laughed. “Good one. Baby, get me one too.” He mewled, making a sound reminiscent of a whimper. His was soft, low and endearing making her heart flutter.

The sound was a heartbreaker she could not not resist.

“I’m trying to eat. Why can’t you get it yourselves?” she said, standing up.

“Please?” Jarrod said, mewling again. His eyes grew wide, brows raised.

She sighed, her heart not allowing her to say no. “I only do this because I love you. Lest you think I support your habit of playing that stupid game, which encourages the worst behavior.”

Lizzie waited for a response but they ignored her, engulfed in the game once again.

“Baby, Alpha’s thirsty,” Colton whined.

She picked up her plate and took it into the kitchen with her.

“Two bottles of beer, coming up,” she said, flipping off the caps of the ice-cold brew. She sniffed it and smiled. It was a local brew. The flowery notes of Calendula struck her nose. The little perennial was one of the few substances that intoxicated their kind, because alcohol on its own, though pleasant tasting, did not.

She heard a chirp and frowned, wondering what it was. She heard it again. It came from behind her. She glanced at her bag. Curious, she reached inside. Picking up her cell phone, she looked at it. She had turned it off in the store, so why was it making noise now? She pressed the button on the side that unlocked it. The battery was dying.

She searched through the junk drawer in the kitchen, pulled out a cord, and plugged it in. She turned it on and saw that she had a text message.

Lizzie opened it. It’s been set. I’m sorry, I tried my best. Good luck.

She texted back. Are you sure?

She chewed her bottom lip as she awaited a response. It came soon enough. Yes. Tried everything. The rest is up to you.

A shiver went down her spine. She folded her arms and pressed them tightly against her.

“Where’s our beer?” Colton asked behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, unplugging the cell and placing it back in her purse. She handed him the bottles.

He paused. “Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing at all.”


She escorted him to the front door. Standing inches away from him, she heard his sound breathing.

“I wasn’t even trying hard. Poor baby, are you bored?” she whispered.

He leaned forward and sniffed the crook of her neck, making her spine tingle. His hot breath beaded on her skin. His body oozed with the potency and virility of a powerful alpha male while his spicy scent made her head spin and her mound wet.

“You think you can keep up?” she asked, her breaths jagged.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

His piercing blue eyes constricted as he pulled her to him. His mouth claimed hers in a hot kiss, taking her breath away. Pulling away with a hiss, he nipped at the flesh on her neck and shoulder. Bathed in pleasure, her brain switched off as she pulled off his blazer and tossed it aside. He licked her lips and devoured her mouth as they stumbled over the furniture, peeling away layers of clothing.

Her back slammed against her bedroom door as he pressed his body against hers and traced her lips with his tongue. The more he toyed with her, the harder it was to control the primal desire inside her. If she let loose she knew she would hurt this citified ferae, so tamed by the normal humans in this world.

He grabbed her ass and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his hips, and thrust forward, grinding his hard crotch into her center. She grunted as he thrust again, pushing the breath out of her body.  She unwrapped her legs and pushed him away and then turned him around and climbed onto his back. She wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his chest and squeezed, swearing in their ancient tongue. She squeezed and squeezed, crushing his solar plexus, releasing all of the hormones for his mating desire. He writhed under her grip, nearly gasping  from  the lover’s embrace. He fell to the floor, causing her to land on her back.

He paused, caught his breath and grinned. “I thought so.” Scooping her up with one arm, he slung her over his shoulder.

Lizzie giggled with a dreamy, awesome pleasure he hadn’t experienced in years.

He tossed her onto the bed and ripped off her panties then spread her legs. He buried her face in her mound and devoured her center. Her ecstasy grew as his tongue darted in and out of her opening. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the crest that was building to a climax, moaning and writhing from his touch. He unzipped his fly, freeing his thick, meaty cock. His rigid pole stood straight, its tip dripping with pre-cum.

She gasped as he sank into her, filling her completely. She moaned from the pleasure and the pain as he pounded her, causing her to keen with delight. He paused and looked into her eyes, before withdrawing and turning her over. Putting her on all fours, he penetrated once again, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair with one hand and holding her hip with the other.

She grunted with each thrust as his powerful ministration shook her and the bed. It had been a long time since any man had worked this good. He craned her back further, wedging his cock into the surface of her cervix and grinding. She moaned gutturally.

He released her hair and held her still as he nailed her sweet spot over and over again. She wailed her climax, again and again and again. Her arms and legs became weak as he continued to take her from behind. He spread her legs further apart, grunted as he pushed into her again. She came once again, her juices pouring all over him. His seemingly boundless stamina began to drain her.  The muscles in her center grew sore from the pressure of his rock-hard dick.

She knew an alpha of his status could go all night. And she just wasn’t ready. She tightened her mound. He paused and whimpered. He attempted to thrust once again. He didn’t want to come but she was going to make him. It was the only way she could survive the encounter and still being able to walk in the morning.

She tightened her muscles once again and then drew on them, milking him. He panted and contorted his expression in pain. He grew rigid and shrieked. The Taking was working. No ferae male liked or wanted the Taking, but often it was a female’s only defense from such an onslaught.


My name is Peyton Brittany Clarke.  I live in Michigan where summers are a bit humid and winters are a little too cold. Me and my husband have been married for over a decade and he often lends a helping hand or opinion or two when I'm writing a steamy love scene.  Mostly for authenticity.

I love to travel and hope to make it to a romance writers convention sometime soon where I'd get to meet my  idols in the genre without getting too much "stalkage" in the process.

When I'm not on the net (which is practically all the time) I am reading about the life of my latest "book boyfriend" from a favorite author or creating my own in one of my books. 

I love talking to my fans.  So if you'd like to to contact me, drop me an e-mail. I'd loved to speak to you.

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