Sunday, July 19, 2015

Sneak Peek Sunday- WIP Excerpt from the Ferae Sequel

Excerpt from the third book in the Ferae series

Jarrod eye the man down the barrel of his Glock 19. Compared to its normal feel it weighed less which meant that it's magazine was low.  Not that he needed a lot of bullets to put the man down but it was nice to have options.

“Drop it or I'll slit her throat,” the man said.  He tightened his hold as he placed the blade against the side of her neck right near her jugular.

“What if I don't care,” Jarrod replied still considering his options.  “Even if you do drop her, You still won't make it out of here alive.”

“You wish,” he said tensing his hand.

Jarrod squinted, focused his gaze and shot before the man could make a move.  A red dot appeared on his forehead.  His hands dropped to his side as he fell to the ground.

The woman quaked and screamed as she stared at her assailant.

“Go!  Leave now!” Jarrod ordered in Basque.

Stumbling a brief moment, the woman steadied her footing then ran away.

“Uriah I told you this would happen,” he said bending over the man's body.

Leafing through the man's pockets he smiled when he found what he was looking for.  A small black memory stick attached to a key.  He slipped it into his shirt pocket then walked away.

In the distance he heard the wailing of a police's siren. “So much for keeping this quiet.”

Determined not to be caught by the police, Jarrod ran behind the warehouse.  Seeing a small car, he broke the window with his elbow, unlocked the door and got inside.  He took out a small knife and cracked the steering column exposing several wires.  Crossing a couple of them, the old car's engine came to life.  He pulled away just as the police arrived.

Friday, July 17, 2015

When You Were Mine by Michelle Roth


[Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romance, spanking, HEA]

When Cora Blanchard said goodbye to Jamie Connolly seven years ago, she knew she'd have to see him again eventually. What she doesn't expect is for all of the old feelings she thought she had let go to come rushing back to the surface. It was as if nothing had changed. Fresh out of a highly publicized train wreck of a relationship, Cora is afraid to trust in those feelings or in herself. She tries to remain friends with him, but she's just fooling herself. There's no way she can be with him and not want more.

The moment that Jamie sees her, he realizes that seven years of silence and two thousand miles haven't changed his feelings. The only thing that has changed is Cora. He sees a sadness in her eyes that was never there before. Just as Jamie is starting to earn her love and her trust, someone threatens to tear them apart forever.


He gathered the paint cans and supplies, then moved toward the entrance. As he walked through the main lobby he thought about how he was going to tell Cora. Even more, he thought about the conversation he was going to have with Patty.

He hit the button and waited. When the elevator doors slid open, he was facing one highly surprised Cora. Shit, he thought. This had not gone according to plan.


He winced, felt the flush creep up his neck and then said, “So you're never going to believe this incredibly awkward coincidence.”

A cautious look in her eye, she stepped out of the elevator, took in his painting supplies and said, “Try me.”

“Patty. She rented me a vacant office on the second floor. I didn't realize you were here until I called Evan to ask about painting. This isn't nearly as stalker-ish as it seems. I swear to god.”

Cora considered him for a moment and then said, “It's entirely plausible.”

Jamie made a move to lift a hand, paint can and all, and said, “Scouts honor. My decision to rent an office here has nothing to do with you. I was going to drop these off and then text you to warn you. When I talked to Evan about painting, he figured it out. I love 'em, but my family can sometimes be a real pain in the ass.”

“Agreed,” she responded. “ weren't a boy scout, were you?”

“Nope. I still had no idea, though. I'm sorry.”

“This has Patty written all over it, Jamie. It's fine,” Cora said, letting him off the hook.

He gave a small sigh of relief, then asked, “Wanna come take a look? Keep in mind, I'm doing some redecorating.”

Cora looked down at her watch and said, “Sure. Let me go drop off this package and I'll be right back.”

Jamie leaned against the bank of elevators, paint bucket and supplies in hand, as he waited for Cora to finish in the mailroom. He shook his head again, still unable to believe Patty. He really couldn't wait to have a conversation with her. At least Cora hadn't freaked out on him.

When he saw her approaching, he pressed the button for the elevator again. After she stepped inside, he moved into the space with her.

As he hit the second floor, she said, “Oh! I bet you're in the office where the holistic doctor was.”

“Yeah, the landlord said it was a doctor's office that left,” Jamie said, a smile pulling at his lips.

He walked down the hallway, and stopped in front of his new office. He set the paint bucket down and dug for his keys. When he unlocked the door, a waft of stale incense and pot met them.

Cora did a slow turn as they stepped inside, then she wrinkled her nose and said, “Seems like maybe they were more into herbal healing. Unless you've picked up a new hobby that I don't know about?”

She turned to face him, her laughter echoing in the empty space around them. In that moment, her hair draped over her shoulder, eyes shining, all traces of sadness were gone. She was absolutely stunning.

He itched to pull her to him, bury his hands in her hair, and press his mouth against hers. He suspected that wouldn't go over well, so instead, he buried his hands in his pocket and grinned.

After a pause, he said, “That hasn't been my thing since college. Nothing to disclose, Dr. Blanchard. What about you?”

“Never tried it. Apparently all I needed to do was come down the hall,” she said with a snort as she wandered into the conference room.

“Yeah. The landlord is tearing out the carpet over the weekend and putting in hardwood. That'll probably get rid of the smell. Plus, I'm going to air it out in here when I paint,” he said.

“Oh, don't tell me you're replacing this beautiful green paint,” Cora said, a smirk pulling at her lips.

His face deadpan, he said, “Don't worry. Just retouching it.”

Her eyes widened as she said, “Please tell me you're kidding.”

“Completely kidding,” he said with a grin. He reached into his back pocket and grabbed the paint sample out, holding it up for her inspection.

Cora visibly relaxed and said, “Warm beige. I can see that. And you said you found cherrywood furniture?”

“I may go with something lighter. I haven't entirely decided.”

“Hardwood? Nice. By the way, in light of recent events, did you just want to order in lunch tomorrow? That way you can get started early tomorrow.”

“Would you mind?” he asked. Cora had always been thoughtful. It was one of the things that he had liked so much about her. She thought about other people in a way that most people didn't.

“It was my idea, Jamie,” she said, drily. “I remember how exciting putting together my office was.”

 “What time did you want to plan for? I'll call in the order.”

He watched her glance down at her watch, saw her eyes widen and heard her mutter, “Crap, crap, crap. I'm gonna be late. I'll check my schedule and text you later. Congrats on the new office!”

Before he could speak, she gave him a quick hug and scurried out of the office past him.

“Bye,” he said to her retreating figure.

Adult Excerpt:

One cup of coffee later, she rolled out her yoga mat in her living room. As she slid effortlessly from pose to pose, she could feel the stress leaving her body. She continued working through her routine until she felt completely loose. When she finally opened her eyes, she jumped a little in surprise. Jamie stood there, coffee cup in hand, wearing nothing but boxers and a smile.

Putting a hand over her heart, she said, “I didn't realize you were there. You scared me.”

Jamie set the cup of coffee he held onto the dining room table and said, “Tell me you're done with that.”

“I'm done with that,” Cora said, wiping a towel over her brow and wresting the ponytail holder out of her hair. As she shook her hair free, she let out a sigh of relief.

“That was,” Jamie said as he walked toward her, “twenty minutes of pure torture, watching that, baby. I had no idea you were that flexible.”

Jamie stood in front of her now, so close that her breasts brushed against his chest. She said, “I didn't even realize you were watching.”

His hand moved up to slide the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. As he lowered his mouth to her skin, he said, “I couldn't help it. That was so fucking sexy.”

Cora tilted her head to the side as his teeth grazed her shoulder. Goose bumps raised on her arms when he cupped her breast through the cotton tank and began to rub his thumb lightly over her nipple. The light touches of his fingers and the barest hint of teeth were driving her absolutely crazy.

“Jamie,” she moaned, when she felt the nip of his teeth against her neck.

He lifted his mouth from her shoulder and tugged her tank top over her head without ceremony. When the cool air swept over her, a fresh wave of goose bumps rose on her skin. She took a final step forward, so that they were pressed together, and pulled his mouth down to hers.

As one kiss melded into another, she let her hands roam the muscles of his back and chest, her nails dragging across his skin. When she finally slipped the waistband of his boxers down and began to stroke him, he said, “Fuck, I love the feel of your hands on my cock.”

Cora slowed the speed of her hand and began to kiss her way down his chest, stopping along the way to run her lips and tongue along the ridges of his stomach. As she settled on to her knees, she asked, “But what about the feel of my mouth on your cock?”

She continued to stroke with one hand as she leaned in to swirl her tongue around the tip of his erection. Licking along the length of it, she flicked her tongue against the sensitive spot just below the head, before she took him fully into her mouth.

One of the hands that had been hanging loosely at his side immediately slid into her hair, gripping it tightly. Cora whimpered around his cock as she felt a flood of arousal between her thighs. She hadn't thought she'd enjoy the slight edge of pain, but the fact that she was dripping with arousal, said otherwise.

Jamie began to rock his hips, thrusting into her mouth. When his hand tightened in her hair, she moaned around him and pressed her thighs together, hoping to alleviate some the throbbing ache.

When she shifted again, and whimpered around his thick cock, Jamie asked, “Is sucking my cock turning you on, Cora? Why don't you play with that pretty pussy for me? Slide those shorts down if you can.”

Cora only hesitated a moment before she moved her hands to slide her shorts down. Once they were at her knees, she wiggled slightly so she wasn't trapped in them.

“That's it,” Jamie groaned. “Spread your thighs, sweetheart. I want to see. Show me how wet you are.”

Needy, Cora dipped her hand between her thighs and held it up. It glistened with her cream.

“Fuck, baby. You're soaked. Rub your clit for me. I wanna see you fall apart.”

Cora moved one hand back up to stroke along his length and slid the other between her thighs. Pressing two fingers inside her aching cunt, she began to rock against her hand as he fucked her mouth. She ground herself against her palm, desperate for any sort of friction on her aching clit.

She wanted to see him lose control. She wanted him feeling as wild and needy as she was. Cora knew just how to make that happen. Moving her hand from around his length, she relaxed her jaw, taking him even deeper into her mouth.

When he nudged the back of her throat, Jamie ground out, “Sweet fucking christ. Just like that.”

As the beginnings of release started, she whimpered around his cock. She shifted her hand and now rubbed tight circles around her throbbing clit. The ache only intensified.

Almost lightheaded, she reached underneath, lightly massaging his balls. When he gritted out, “Oh, fuck. Like that,” and gave her hair another rough tug, she cried out around his cock, release barreling through her like a freight train.

Seconds later he said, “Oh christ, baby. I'm gonna come,” as he erupted in her mouth.

Cora felt the hot liquid hit the back of her throat and continued to swallow until the grip on her hair had loosened slightly. Her body throbbed with release in time with his, but it wasn't nearly enough. Something about this man made her all but insatiable.


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Author Bio:

Michelle Roth is a novelist from the Great White North (Toronto, ON). When she’s not disappearing into foreign lands, or making two perfect strangers that she invented fall in love, she’s probably curled up somewhere with a glass of wine and a good book.

In her spare time she is typically hanging out with her awesome boyfriend and their two equally awesome cats. She likes taking road trips to nowhere in particular, cooking elaborate meals then making other people do the dishes, and being nerdy on the internet. Her books are currently available on

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Twitter: @mroth_author







Amazon Author:


Wednesday, July 15, 2015

More Than A Fling by Tonya Ramagos (MFM)


[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]

The house Alyssa Kinney inherited needs repairs, the accompanying dog hates her, and her job at the newspaper isn’t as glamorous as she’d dreamed. Stack on a couple of smokin’ hot neighbors that would rather snicker than lend a hand, and her new life in Cherish isn’t off to a great start. Then a multi-car accident creates a hazardous scene and her boss’s star reporter is MIA. But the story will do more than prove her worthy to her boss when it ignites a fire in Cherish even two drool-worthy firefighters can’t put out.

Everything about their sexy new neighbor has firefighters Tanner Carlisle and Nick Calfee burning with needs. Never ones to run from a fire, they decide they’ll need to extinguish this one with a full-frontal attack. They’re not looking for anything serious, but when the blaze proves to be fueled by more than carnal needs, they realize this thing with Alyssa might be more than a fling.


Tanner Carlisle ignored his rapidly stiffening cock and grinned around the rim of his coffee mug as he brought it to his mouth for a sip. In the front yard of the house next door, his new neighbor was putting on quite an amusing show. The dog, an oversized mutt really, was named Precious of all things. He took off like a rocket down the drive, dragging a frazzled, snarling, truly spectacular beauty behind him. The sex kitten was holding onto Precious’s leash for dear life, shouting at the dog to slow down, and scrambling to keep up in tennis shoes that looked like they had just come off the department store shelf. Her shapely legs were clad in workout pants molded to her perfect hips and tantalizing ass in a way that made it impossible to continue to ignore his cock now attempting to burst through the zipper of his uniform pants. Her hair was the color of a fine bottle of scotch, pulled into a neat ponytail high on the back of her head, and long enough for the tips to still dance across the small of her back.

“Damn it, Precious! I said we were going to walk around the block, not race around the freaking thing.”

The dog outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. Tanner figured she would’ve had better luck if she had put a saddle on his back and rode him down the street rather than taking him for a walk around the block. If, that was, the dog let her get close enough to even attempt to saddle him. Tanner wondered how she had managed to get a leash on him considering how the dog seemed to prefer to keep his distance from his new owner.

“Will you slow down?”

Precious proved he didn’t have any intentions of slowing down as he hit the street. Tanner snickered, maybe a bit too loudly, because her head jerked his way. Their gazes met for only a moment, just long enough for him to catch the irritation and helplessness in her amazing eyes. Then Precious spotted a squirrel sprinting across the street and made a break for it, dragging the despondent beauty with him.

“Are you ready to head out?”

Tanner kept his gaze on the woman as she managed to catch up with Precious when the dog stopped in the yard across the street to bark at the terrified squirrel that had taken refuge in a tree. “In a minute. I’m having a mental debate on whether or not I should lend a hand over there.”

His mind wasn’t the only part of his anatomy engaged in the debate. As a firefighter on A-shift at the Cherish F.D., he knew all too well the gratitude often offered by the damsel when she was rescued from her distress. It usually came in the form of something that eventually led to rumpled sheets, sweaty bodies, and exhausting fun.

Nick Calfee moved closer to the rail of the front porch, leaned on it, and grinned as the woman tugged with all her might on Precious’s leash. “I take it that’s our new neighbor?”

“Must be.”

The woman that had owned the house next door along with her husbands had passed away a few months back. The triad had been out on the town one Saturday night when their car was struck by a drunk driver. One of the men was killed instantly and the other died a few hours later in the hospital. Upon hearing the news of her husbands’ passing, the woman apparently gave up her fight to live. She died a couple of days later. The doctors attributed her death to the injuries she had sustained in the accident. Tanner thought it more likely that she hadn’t wanted to go on without the loves of her life.

Tanner and Nick had dropped by the funeral home to pay their respects, but they hadn’t seen the scotch beauty that had apparently inherited the house and the triad’s dog. They had realized last week that she must have moved in, but they still hadn’t seen her in the flesh—very fantastic flesh at that—before now.

“She’s pretty hot.”

Tanner felt his grin widen as Nick shifted his stance, undoubtedly to relieve some of the pressure building in his crotch. He had known he wouldn’t be the only one with a stiffening affliction once Nick caught sight of her. “Are you referring to her looks or the temper flaming out of her ears?”

Nick chuckled. “Both. After the way that dog has kept me up half the night barking in the last week, I say this is one fire we let her put out on her own. If she doesn’t get control of that dog now, she never will.”
Tanner agreed, even if his suffering cock didn’t. Precious, though why in the world Vera Glasper chose that name for the overgrown male mutt was beyond him, had always been a nice, quiet dog until the scotch beauty had taken over his guardianship. The only time they had heard the dog bark was when it thought there was a threat to his masters. In the last week, they had heard the dog bark more than ever. Last night, after nearly an hour of listening to the ruckus, he and Nick had taken it upon themselves to make a quiet pass around the house next door. The only threat they saw was that the scotch beauty had been keeping Precious tied to a tree in the backyard when she wasn’t around.

Across the street, Precious finally gave up on the squirrel, but not on the marathon he obviously had in mind. With a jerk of the leash, he was off again. The scotch beauty startled, let out a yelp, and nearly fell on her face before she gained her footing.

Nick snorted and pushed away from the rail as dog and woman disappeared out of sight.


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Monday, July 13, 2015

The Alpha Match by Leigh Archer



English conservationist, Caro Hannah, and South African, Ben Duval, must work together on a project to introduce endangered wild dogs to an African game reserve, four years after their love affair ended. The challenges of their profession pale into insignificance beside the personal obstacles they must overcome in order to either bring closure to the events of four years before, or reignite a passion hot enough to burn up the African bush.

The Alpha Match is the first in a series set in the African bush where luxury tented camps and romantic hideaways are havens for royals, celebrities and the adventurous at heart. The Untamed Safari Series places unforgettable men and women in this captivating setting and holds its breath as they play out their red-hot passions.


Caro was aware that her voice was rising, but she could do nothing to stop it. Now was as good a time as any to speak her mind. ‘As a matter of fact, if you could stop all the wars on this planet, solve world hunger and reverse the effects of global warming, I’d still feel nothing for you.’

It was the briefest look of pain flitting across his face that silenced her. Then his mouth hardened and his eyes blazed. ‘I’m your boss, Caro.’ He spoke very slowly, his voice vibrating deep in his throat. ‘All I’m asking from you is some respect. Your unwillingness to greet me at the meeting today; that wasn’t very mature, was it? How far do you think we’ll get on this project if that’s the way things are going to be between us?’

Caro was stung. ‘If you think I’m going to be anything other than professional, then you really don’t know me at all. I’ve worked for five years to save the African wild dog and I’d never do anything to jeopardise this project.’

‘Oh, I believe you,’ Ben said. ‘Nobody knows better than I do just how ambitious you really are. As a matter of fact, what was I thinking? Of course you’d never let anything get in your way, least of all other people’s feelings.’

Caro gaped.

He leaned towards her. ‘I’m right, aren’t I, Caro?’

Again he stared into her eyes, his own narrowed and filled with fire.

She could see the cords of muscle beneath the golden skin of his neck. Her breath came in small, silent gasps, and she pressed a hand to her chest.

Ben’s gaze travelled slowly from her face to the hand against her naked skin. He opened his mouth, closed it again. His body tilted towards her, his fingers heading for the bunch of towel between her breasts. Then he snatched his hand back, shook his head, turned and started for the door.



Tirgearr Publishing:

Amazon UK: 

Amazon US: 




Leigh writes romance novels set in her native South Africa. She has always had a love affair with Africa’s wild open spaces, the intensity of its people and sunsets. Her love of storytelling began as a child when she spent every spare moment playing barefoot in golden grass, watching meerkats, learning to track spoor and dreaming up heroes and heroines dynamic enough to stand out in all the beauty and drama of the African landscape.

Always in search of adventure, Leigh’s journey as a writer has taken her from journalist to communications specialist, and now novelist.


Sunday, July 12, 2015

Revenge and More by Tanya Kelly


Kim Morrison knows she has a few indulgences that cause tongues to wag, with her fondness for sexy 5” stiletto heels, wine, loud music, and hot guys—not in that order.                                                                  
She loves the single life. Monogamous relationships and happily ever after fairy tales belong in exactly that…fairy tales. Kim once made the mistake of falling in love, and she doesn’t plan on repeating it. But a girl’s gotta have male company and can’t rely solely on toys.

Millionaire land developer, Damon Black, arrives in Beechfield with one purpose. Revenge. From the moment he sees Kim, the woman who betrayed him, he is engulfed by memories he thought were long buried.

Determined to get vengeance, Damon sets on a course of destruction. As the passion re-ignites between them, Kim is convinced she can enjoy the mind-blowing sex without getting emotionally involved this time.

But when the past collides with the present, Damon must re-evaluate everything. Will his hate cost him his love?

[Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romance, HEA]


Damon heard her sharp intake of breath. Glancing sideways, he watched as her cheeks reddened.

“I did not straddle you on your bike in a skirt,” she hissed.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. Liar.

“One time, and I didn’t expect you to pick me up on your bike.” Kim crossed her arms and the movement pushed her luscious breasts upward, exposing her creamy cleavage. Damon forced his eyes back to the road and cursed inwardly as his dick twitched in his pants.

Which it had been doing all night every time he looked at her, inhaled her scent, or even sensed her near. And now it was hard as rock as he recalled picking Kim up at the country club. She wore a short dress with a flared skirt and when she got on his bike, and pressed her body against his, he trailed his hands up the naked length of her legs, his cock straining against his jeans. He drove to his house as fast as he could, her dress blowing in the wind and her laugher in his ears.

It had been a warm summer night and Damon had ached for her, which wasn’t unusual. He seemed to be in a constant state of arousal when Kim was near, his hunger for her nonstop. He picked her up and carried her into his place as soon as they got there. Her eyes had sparkled playfully as he kicked open the front door with his boot. They barely made it in the house when he ripped her panties off, undid the zipper of his jeans, and sank into her sweet pussy. She called out his name, arching her back and wrapping her legs snug around him, gripping his cock in her tightness until they both came. Thank God while he lived with his uncle that he had his own apartment above the garage.

“Where do you live?” he practically barked, trying to force the memory to the back of his mind. He knew exactly where her house was but he didn’t want Kim knowing about the in depth investigation he’d done.

“Turn left on Bayfield and then it’s your third right on Cedar street.”

They rode in silence as Damon concentrated on thinking straight and not letting Kim’s beauty distract him.
He had to be in control—always.

Yes, he was planning to ignite the passion between them, which was already smoldering. But this time he’d be the one to take what he wanted.

Revenge. Bittersweet revenge was why he was here. After what she and her family had done to him and his uncle, the idea of giving them a dose of their own medicine was the only thing that drove him sometimes. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. After a few years as his success grew, he began to slowly formulate his plan and now, he was ready to put it into action.

He pulled into her driveway, turned off the engine and got out. Kim exited at the same time.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said stiffly and walked to her front door, digging out her keys. He noted the way her hands shook as she tried to put the key in the lock. When it didn’t go in, she fumbled for a different one on her key ring and then dropped them. She uttered a small curse and Damon strode over, picking up the keys from the ground.

“Here.” He inserted one into the lock and then opened the door.

“Thanks,” she said again and moved inside, removing her keys as she passed and turning to close the door but Damon had stepped inside behind her.

“Um, thank you for the ride, but if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take some aspirin and go to bed,” she said, trying to usher him out.

Damon’s eyes raked over her and his cock swelled again, especially when she talked about going to bed. Did she still sleep naked? The cool sheets draped around her bronzed skin.

Her blue eyes shone back at him as she waited for him to turn and leave. Shit! She was beautiful. The blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin were the stuff most guys fantasized about but when you added her killer body with legs that went for miles, it was hard not to imagine her naked, writhing beneath him in ecstasy while he fucked her.

Damon took a step forward, closing the distance between them and Kim’s eyes widened, her mouth parted slightly as she watched him warily. He closed the door and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. He held back a satisfied smile when her body shivered at his touch.

“W–what are you doing?”

Damon leaned closer, trailing his finger down her cheek. He breathed in her scent, the floral perfume filling his nostrils. Her eyes were glassy and her breathing uneven as she swayed ever so slightly toward him.
If he leaned forward just a bit more, he’d taste the sweet nectar of her lips. His entire body tensed with need. Gone were all thoughts of revenge. His pulse raced. Her lips parted in invitation.

With a groan, Damon cupped her neck and his mouth descended over hers. Her lips were soft and full under his. Kim tilted her head up with a moan and his tongue snaked into her mouth. He savored the sweetness of berries from the wine she drank earlier. Damon deepened the kiss, his hunger growing.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his body, until she was plastered against him. Her small hands went up his neck and into his hair as their tongues danced.


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Saturday, July 11, 2015

My Sexy Saturday- Excerpt from my Western/Cowboy MMF BDSM Menage

An Excerpt from my Untitled BDSM Cowboy/Western MMF Menage,

Jacob Hargate could not imagine himself going to a BDSM club.  How could he give himself so openly to his Master with so many prying eyes watching their every move?  He wondered if his Master had ever performed a scene in public. He knew their wife hadn't because she had become acquainted with the lifestyle when she fell in love with their Master like him.  Before falling in love with his Master, BDSM was nothing more than something people made inappropriate jokes about at cocktail parties.  And now here he was, deeply engaged in it and loving every minute of it.  Could he have done this without the gentle understanding and guidance, he received daily from his Master?  He did not know, however he was grateful to be able to partake of something that was so healing that every day was a reminder that when hindrances arose, he should be still, wait and not make decisions while upset.

He felt a gentle brush of his Master's finger across his chin.  It was a sign to keep his mind on target.  Jake sighed.  One of his Master's main points of instruction was for him to stay in the present. He said the core of his anxiety was rooted in his tendency stray away from the moment.   He recalled his Master's instructions and allowed the calm of the moment to fill him. Jake beamed inwardly. His Master was so astute.  His desire to please him grew. Just then something rough and prickly pinched his skin.  He concentrated on the sensation.  It was a thick rope bounded around his torso and arms.  It tightened not enough to restrict his breathing but just enough to make the nerves in his body tingle. Instantly all errant thoughts fled his mind.  He smiled as his Master's clean fresh scent wafted to his nose.  A hint of soap leftover from his morning shower mixed with the citrusy grassy aroma from his aftershave.

He recalled hearing of a school thought that taught in order to ease anxiety, one had to push one's thoughts away from the present.  Or better yet, devoid one's mind of all thoughts completely.  Kind of like making one's mind a blank slate.  He smiled.  A task like that for an anxious mind was likely to be more stressful than the problem itself because the act of attempting to erase all thoughts made he or she more aware of them along with the original problem.  Therefore the person is thrown into feeling of failure and worry.  An endless that won't stop unless something break the cycle.

Instead, one must tune into the moment.  Grounding one self not in the fear or anxiety inducing situation but become aware of their environment.  Where you are in your space?  Are you sitting or standing?  Is the chair made of wood?  Is the floor hard or soft?  What does the air smell like?  It's an effective grounding technique to not become controlled by anger, fear or anxiety.

His biggest problem was with fear.  Not with criminals, the boogey man or robbers and thieves.  But with failure and the compromising of his safety.  For years, as officer in navy intelligence it was drummed into him that he'd never if or when his mission could be exposed thereby placing him and others like him in jeopardy.  And though, he never showed it on the outside, he always carried this nagging suspicion that if he didn't keep everything concealed and free from outsiders his whole world would collapse.  It was probably his initial meeting with his Master had ended so poorly.  Meeting a man who could read him so well was downright scary.

But as time went on, he managed to work through most of his problems and cope with the rest.  In BDSM he learned that fear was almost always related to the unknown and anxiety was due to an inability to control the uncontrollable.  Worrying and unhealthy fear changed nothing,  so it was better to embrace the present which enabled him to control his actions.  While doing this, he was able to assess what he was capable of doing and did not concern himself with what he was not.

Jake inhaled deeply and centered his mind concentrated on the sensation of his body he knelt on the floor. The plush, soft carpet enveloped his knees.  It smelled of fresh flowers from the cleaner that their wife loved to use.  He adjusted his position on the carpet, spreading his legs farther apart further increasing the tension on his legs.  He groaned with pleasure, then flexed his  chest and back muscles.  Stimulated to the fullest, his mind threatened to overload.

Friday, July 10, 2015

Real Life Has Tried It's Best To Kick My Butt...

...However I am still here!

Life Tried To Give Me More Thorns Than Roses...
but with God's Help I have the victory!

I had a few health problems for the last few months that took me away from my writing and you guys.  And believe me I missed you both.

But slowly, I'm returning to the fold.  I've been catching up on my blogs and I've been working on the sequels to a few books as well as working on some new ones.

I'll be posting some excerpts from the WIP's for the various books I've been working on.  Plus I'll give you a sneak peek of the m/m romances I've started under my pen name of Arryn Yaxely.  I have a blog specifically set up for her/my work which will feature really fun and spicy books featuring twinks to bears!

The blog is already live. I'll be updating it frequently along with this blog.  If you'd like to see it, click here.

Also in the fall, I'll be returning to Paranormal Love Wednesdays too!

Right now it's in the capable hands of all the contributors who helped start the blog hop.  They are really rockin' over there with their passion for Paranormal Romance.  Don't forget to stop by!

So thank you all for your well wishes and huge support.  It kept me going!


I'll talk to you soon!

Love and Hugs,


Thursday, July 9, 2015

Challenge Accepted by Annabeth Leong


After being shamed for her dominant desires too many times, Christine has resolved never to date a vanilla man again. She needs a man who knows he's submissive, and she's determined to hold out until she finds one.

Until she meets Sam, that is. Christine can't bring herself to turn down the handsome parkour aficionado, so instead she tries to scare him off with an intensely kinky first date.

When Sam meets her extreme challenges head-on, Christine must decide if he can become the man to serve her every need—in the bedroom, and in her life.




Even seeing only her back, Sam had no trouble recognizing Christine as he carried a sack of dirty clothes into the basement laundry room of his new apartment building. He’d liked her tall, thick frame the moment he’d caught her watching him, and he liked the way she moved. She folded clothes with sure, clean gestures. He’d been an athlete for enough of his life that he could immediately spot a woman in full control of her body and presence. 

He hefted the laundry onto his shoulder and assumed a casual stance. He made his movements feel easy so they would look easy. “Christine.” 

She turned. He liked that she didn’t jump. Maybe she knew he was coming. 

He saw her reacting to him—gaze flicking down his body, body shifting to emphasize her hip. Her eyes were fierce, not welcoming. She looked as if she might be about to set him on fire. Apart from that, though, her nod was polite and distant. 

Stretching and making a show of it, he set the laundry down beside a free machine. He didn’t know what to think of the contradictions he read in her body language. He was intrigued and wanted to get to know her. She, on the other hand, wasn’t being clear about what she wanted. He couldn’t tell if she was hoping he’d strike up a conversation or wishing he’d drop his clothes into the wash and get the hell out. 

Sam had been raised in the type of family that communicated in code, and he didn’t like it. The only way he knew to make sense of the world was to speak his mind. “You up for company?” 

She hesitated. “I think so,” she said finally. 

“I’m glad.” His voice came out softer than he’d intended, his tone deferent. 

There was something about Christine that made him want to address her that way. He stole glances as he started a washer. She dressed professionally, but not in an imposing way. Her body looked strong, but her shoulders were relaxed, her face at ease. She didn’t loom or intimidate, though he imagined she could if she wanted to. She had big, dark eyes and rich, brown skin. Her features weren’t delicate—he liked the bold lines of her nose and jaw—but neither were they harsh. The only hint of real severity he could see was in the way she wore her hair—straightened to within an inch of its life and sharply restrained. 

“The weather’s gotten nice,” Sam said, reaching for an easy conversation starter. “Anything you’re looking forward to doing now?” 

Christine shrugged. “Not wearing a heavy jacket.” Was that a touch of humor in the curve of her lips? He wasn’t sure. 

“Definitely.” Sam kept his voice light. “You recognized parkour. Is that your sport?” 

She laughed. "Afraid not." Sam wondered if she was warming to him, but she was still so difficult to read. He hated the idea of lingering where he wasn’t wanted. 

“Look,” he said. “I’d like to get to know you. I’d like to take you out sometime. Are you interested?” He had a nice Italian restaurant in mind if she said yes. If she said no, he’d ignore the flickers of interest he kept feeling from her. 

She didn’t agree or refuse, though. Instead, she looked pained. “Why would you ask me that? We’ve got nothing in common.” 

Sam stepped back, holding up his hands. “I asked because I wanted to know your answer,” he said, the words low and even. “If you’re not, it’s cool. I won’t bother you about it.” He’d be disappointed, of course, but he wasn’t the kind of jerk who would try to make a woman feel guilty about turning him down. 

Christine reached toward him but dropped her arm just before she made contact. “You couldn’t handle me.” 

Sam probably should have walked away at that point, but he’d noticed the way she’d almost touched him and the stubborn part of him couldn’t let the challenge pass. “What do you mean, I couldn’t handle you?” 

Familiar anger rose to his chest. In high school, everyone had assumed he was a nerd because he was Chinese. He’d been told he wouldn’t be able to handle being on the football team, wouldn’t be able to handle American-style boxing—though everyone also seemed to expect him to be an expert at Wing Chun—and wouldn’t be able to handle going with the other guys on the team to play pranks on the local rivals. 

Sam had responded to each of those challenges by proving his doubters wrong, doing everything better and harder than the people who had questioned him. He’d given up on obligatory popular sports to focus on parkour, but there was still a part of him that thrilled each time he pulled off a difficult move, exulting that, yet again, he’d shown them. 

Christine’s skin darkened with a blush, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m kinky, okay? I doubt you’re ready for that.” 

Sam blinked. “Wow, okay. That seems like something we could sort out after we go on a date and find out if we like each other. No need to jump ahead.” 

“No point.” She shook her head, the gesture firm and dismissive. “It’s a waste of time to get to know each other if we’re just going to wind up incompatible.” 

“Really?” Sam bristled. It irritated him when women assumed a Chinese guy wouldn’t know anything about sex, and he hoped that wasn’t what was going on. “I have heard about that book, you know. The one all the women are reading.” 

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I like to be the one on the handle end of the flogger. You don’t want it, trust me.” 

Sam had almost no idea what that entailed, but he pressed, annoyed that she’d presumed to tell him what he would and wouldn’t want. “How do you know? Talk to me about it first. Try me.” 

“If you don’t already know about it, it’s just not going to work. I promise.” 

Sam had never been aware of an interest in kink, but he couldn’t stand assumptions. “Tell me straight-out what you want to do,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell you whether or not I want to do it.” 

Christine stared as if he’d suggested a really strange plan. It reminded Sam of so many movies he’d seen, times when characters acted like telling the truth was such an odd and original thing to come up with. “I don’t know…” she said. 

He grabbed his now-empty laundry bag. The fabric snapped as he yanked it through the air. The fresh, warm scent pouring from the dryers seemed sour in that moment. “Or turn me down. Just don’t tell me what I can and can’t handle.”

Again, she moved as if she wanted to take hold of his wrist and stop him. Sam paused, trying to make it clear he would let her if that was what she wanted to do. They were still for a while, and then he gave up and walked to the door. 

“Wait,” Christine said before he could leave. 


“Maybe. Do you use IM? Can we talk later?” 

He shrugged. “Sure.” This was probably another part of the brush-off. Maybe she thought it would be nicer if she offered to chat online. He didn’t particularly like that tactic, but he didn’t feel like criticizing it now. Without expecting to hear from her again, he gave her his username. 


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Annabeth Leong wears high heels and frequents the former haunts of H.P. Lovecraft. She is obsessed with baseball and marine life, and is an enthusiastic member of New England Feet. 

She is frequently confused about her sexuality, but enjoys searching for answers. Her work appears in more than 50 anthologies, including Best Bondage Erotica 2013, 2014, and 2015, Best Women's Erotica 2015, and Best Erotic Romance 2014 and 2015.

She is the author of a number of erotic novels, ranging from sweet to dark. Find Annabeth online at, and on Twitter @AnnabethLeong

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Forever Strings by Tonya Ramagos


Officer Ripley Paxton has been betrayed by love too many times, but solitary life has gotten lonely. When she meets Xander, she makes it clear she’s looking for a good time and no strings. Then she meets Flynn and finds herself having that good-time-no-strings fun with both men…until the strings start to form, a threat makes itself known, and the only place she can turn is into Xander and Flynn’s loving, protective arms.

Fire Captain Flynn Martelli has enough on his plate without adding a woman to the mix, but the sexy, vivacious Ripley is too irresistible to push aside. Firefighter Xander Wayland knows Ripley is the woman for him. The gorgeous vixen isn’t looking for long-term. Neither is he. His heart has different plans. When he discovers Ripley has been having fun with Flynn, too, he’s okay with that. So is Flynn. But neither man is okay with the threat that’s out to take her away from them forever.


Ripley’s heart skipped a beat. Just like that, Xander had gone from playful to serious. She supposed he’d had to, especially given the handcuffs in his hand and the obvious intent in his eyes to use them.

“That’s an interesting question coming from a man I’ve known for barely more than two hours.”

He shot a pointed glance around the room before meeting her gaze again. “I’m in your house.”

Ripley gave him a half laugh. “You’re in my bedroom.”

Xander didn’t crack a smile. “But do you trust me enough to have my way with you and know that I won’t hurt you in any way that doesn’t give you absolute and total pleasure?”

Ripley’s heart didn’t just skip a beat this time. It stilled. Holy smokes, the intensity on his handsome face coupled with the mixture of hope and confidence in his tone had juices leaking from between her feminine lips. She wanted this man. She wanted him to have his way with her, and, mother of hormones, she wanted him to do anything and everything to her that would give her that absolute and total pleasure he was talking about.

She shifted, putting the weight of her upper body on one elbow so she could reach for him with her other hand. “Yes, Xander. Call me crazy, but I trust you.”

“I would never call you crazy or give you a reason not to trust me,” he said, still so serious, so confident, and, oh, wow, those words shouldn’t have made her insides go all warm and fuzzy, but they did.

Wanting to put them back in their playful mood from moments ago, needing to, Ripley asked, “Do you need me to show you what to do with those handcuffs?”

He snorted. “Baby, I’m going to show you how these handcuffs can be fun.” He waited a beat and added, “Lay down and stretch your arms over your head.”

Ripley obeyed even as an excited whip of trepidation slashed over every erogenous zone in her body.

He leaned over her, glanced down, and asked, “You’re right handed, aren’t you?”

There was only one set of cuffs. He couldn’t bind both of her wrists to the headboard like he obviously wanted. Knowing it would throw him off, she told him, “I’m ambidextrous.”

He gave her a withering look that had her struggling not to laugh. “Work with me, Ripley, unless you’ve got another pair of these laying around.”

She let a half giggle escape. “I don’t, and I shoot my gun with my right hand, if that helps.”

“So, just in case that’s lying around the room and I didn’t see it…” He muttered the words, but she heard the humor in his tone as he stretched her right arm toward the headboard and secured it to one of the wrought iron bars.

Still laughing, Ripley waved her left hand in the air in front of his face. “I still have a free hand.”

“Not for long.” He grabbed that wrist as he sat up and guided her left hand between her legs. “You’re going to play with your pussy until I get down there to take over.”

“Wh—” A sudden rush of uncertainty had Ripley needing to swallow before she could make the question come out. “Where are you going to be?”

He shifted next to her, threw one powerful leg over her thighs, braced the weight of his upper body on his hands at her sides, and dipped his head. “Right here for starters.” The tip of his tongue touched the side of her neck and danced its way down.

Ripley shuddered, every sensory nerve in her body anticipating the next lick, the next touch of his mouth, and the bites he’d given to her breasts in the living room.

“Are you playing with your pussy like I told you to do?” The warmth of his breath fanned her flesh as his face hovered over her collarbone.

She wasn’t. All of her attention had been fixated on him, every particle of her being waiting for him to touch her, to taste her, and to fuck her. She pushed a finger between her sodden folds and couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips.

His lips unfolded in a smile against her flesh as he lowered his mouth to her collarbone and gave it a tender nip. “Now you are. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

“You should be doing it for me.” Ripley could finger herself any time the mood struck. Right now, she wanted his large, callused fingers between her pussy lips, fondling her clit, and pumping inside her channel.

“You have to beg me to first.”

Ripley let out a quick burst of disbelieving laughter, but the moan that broke through it when his tongue touched her flesh again ruined the effect. “I don’t beg, Slick.”

His head lifted, his gaze slammed into hers, and the calm authority shining among the flames in her eyes brought her inching toward the edge. “You will.”


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