Monthly Archives: August 2013

Coming Soon to our eReaders & tablets: ’69 Mustang by Kacey Hammell

For years I’ve been obsessed with Mustangs, especially the classic models. And by years, I mean since I was old enough to sit on my dad’s knee and listen to him and his buddies discuss cars, lines, engine revs and horsepower, etc, etc. One of these days I’d love to own one, but that might just have to wait until my kids are all grown and I’m not “Mom Taxi”. *g*  I’d prefer a red or black one, a classic over a newer model, but I would be quite happy with seeing a Mustang in my driveway every day.


So tell me, what is your favorite car?




By Kacey Hammell

Book 1: Revved and Ready Series

Contemporary Erotic Romance

ISBN: 9780987799319

Word Count: 4,415 Short Story

Only $0.99 cents!!!

Releases: September 3rd.

Revved and Ready for passion, heat sizzles between two friends…


For Hayley Fitzgibbon, the heat wave blanketing her small town is nothing compared to the inferno inside her whenever she looks at her best friend, Rory. On the night of his parents’ anniversary party, she no longer resists her burning desire and makes it known how much she wants him. Secluded under a willow tree, down a lover’s lane, she’s revved and ready to claim her man on the top of his ’69 Mustang.



Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2013:

“Take this path,” she directed, hearing the breathlessness and passion in her voice.

“Hales, this is—”

“Memory Lane at the back of Zwick’s Park, I know. I haven’t been here in a long time.”

He maneuvered the car through the long grass and around high bushes. The area had overgrown in the twenty-something years since she’d been there last.

“Neither have I. Last girl I brought here was—”

“You don’t have to tell me. Tonight’s for new memories and new beginnings.” Last thing she cared about was his old lovers. “There are some willow trees right up there. Park beneath them for privacy.”

“Hales,” he began, his voice unsteady.

“What’s the matter? Scared to be alone out here with lil ole me?” She laid her arm over his arm, silencing him, amazed once again by the wealth of muscle beneath his shirt. Gone was the tall flagpole type body he grew up with. The six pack abs and bulging biceps he sported now continuously held her in awe – and drooling. He definitely took care of himself.

Rory pulled in under the trees, glanced over at her, his eyes enflamed in heat and desire, then turned off the ignition.

Hayley undid her seatbelt, shifted toward him, and clasped the back of his neck, then pulled him close. She crushed her mouth to his.

He tasted so good. Intoxicating. Incredible. Fucking superb. She tangled her tongue with his. Shivers of delight spread along her body, nipples beading while juices gathered in her pussy.

Digging her fingers into his nape, anxiousness filled her to taste every inch of him but there wasn’t room to maneuver in the tight confines of the car.

“It’s too hot in here to sit. Let’s go outside,” she whispered. She pulled back and opened her door. Though the strangling humidity hadn’t dissipated much, a slight breeze skated along her skin. She welcomed the pleasure of the coolness against her body from the numerous days of nothing but stagnant humidity and the fire Rory stoked inside her.

Slamming the door, she tip-toed farther under the trees, careful not to sink into the grass in her stilettos, and waved him to follow her. “Come on,” she called.

Rory wiped a hand over his face.

“Trust me it’s much cooler out here.”

For the moment at least.


BUY LINKS: (Releases September 3rd)
Book Page



Avid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…

Canadian-born author, Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic, who began reading romances at a young age and became easily addicted.  These days, as a multi-published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass and emotion to the Contemporary Romances she writes.


A mom of three, Kacey has made certain each of her children know the value of the written word and the adventures they could escape on by becoming book-a-holics in their own right. She lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada, and is a true romantic at heart.


Connect with Kacey…

Website / Facebook / Facebook Author Page / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Pinterest / Instagram

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut | Tags: , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Let’s Take the Cake

As a writer I’ve often heard the phrase write what you know. This has led to stories with themes of secret babies, second chances and my personal favorite, food.

One of my goals in life was to be a pastry chef. THe closest I came to that goal was a cake decorator for a small grocery store and catering from my home. While I no longer do either of those, the experiences have lingered.

Take the Cake, releasing September 7 from Sugar and Spice Press is a product of being a caterer and cake decorator. I love that what-if factor. What if a wedding cake could predict the outcome of a marriage?

Here’s a quick look at Take the Cake.

Liz Washington can’t believe her good fortune when she’s asked to cater one of the biggest and most prestigious weddings of the year. Not only is the location perfect, but working with the bride is a dream. When she realizes the bride’s brother, Keegan, is an old flame, her dream job quickly turns into a nightmare each time he pushes to change the cake. Yet, whenever she’s in his presence, all she can think about is being skin-to-skin.


Keegan Murphy is determined to make his sister’s wedding the talk of the town, but that can’t happen with a plain and unimaginative cake. He doesn’t anticipate the sizzling attraction he still has for Liz, but he has no problem seeking out every opportunity to seduce her.


Liz is not there for pleasure. She has a wedding to save, but will salvaging the wedding cost her a relationship she shouldn’t have started in the first place?

She rose on tiptoe and still couldn’t reach the can on the top shelf. A hand appeared next to hers on the silver rack while a hard body heated her back. A familiar cologne, woodsy musk, wrapped around her and tightened her nipples. She closed her eyes and tried not to inhale. Why in the world didn’t this man leave her alone? His sister was a delight to work with, no fuss, no micromanaging. It was like Caroline was planning a garden party for her friends instead of the most important day of her life. Heck, even the groom was docile, a bit of a doormat in Liz’s opinion, but she wasn’t the one saying “I do.” Keegan acted like this was his wedding and he was the one paying the bill.

Liz shook her head. They’d come so close to having a happily ever after, danced around the issue of some form of commitment, and she finally tired of waiting for that all-important question. Even now, almost a year later, she yearned to hear that question from him. She drew a stuttered breath. Maybe they just weren’t meant to be, but here they were thrust together again.

She couldn’t live her life in a continuous limbo of parties, training, and soccer games, especially when her career was going so well. She needed—no, wanted to put down roots and start a family. At the time, Keegan seemed to be focused on everything but her feelings and goals. Yet whenever he was in the room, she went all sappy.

It also didn’t help that he conjured images of new uses for a chocolate fountain or even a quickie in the pantry. A ripple of awareness washed through her. This man made her think of what they could’ve had, of the wedding that could’ve been, but first she had a job to do before she thought of them in any context. He placed a hand at her waist. The gesture seemed intimate and a tad possessive. Maybe forget the wedding and go straight for the honeymoon. They’d never had a problem with intimacy. Their sex life had always been sizzling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any sexual gratification that didn’t involve her fingers or batteries.

“Does this help?” He set the can on a lower shelf. “There seems to have been quite a bit of noise coming from the kitchen, and Martha looked positively frazzled when she left.”

Liz furrowed her brow. Martha was upset? That was news to her. Liz had simply thanked the event planner for the update, nothing more. Maybe one of the other cooks had said something to her. “I can’t imagine why.” She stepped back and into Keegan’s masculine form.

He was so close his warmth seeped into her clothes. A rigid swell met the curve of her behind and sent awareness trickling through her veins. Desire dampened her panties while she sucked in a breath. This man could not be aroused by her, could he? Not after all this time. She didn’t think she was ugly, far from it, but with her unruly curls tucked beneath a bandana, her face devoid of any cosmetics, and her hands covered in dye, she wouldn’t win any beauty contests.

Keegan was deceptively thin. Tall and muscular. She glanced at the well-tanned arms on either side of her. Toned forearms and chiseled biceps trapped her between his body and the shelving unit. She faced him and wished she hadn’t. He had the clearest hazel eyes she’d seen in a very long time, and right now they were more green than brown or grey. A lock of auburn hair curled over his forehead, and she had the uncontrollable urge to push it back into place. Well, forget pushing it back into place. She wanted to run her fingers through the reddish-brown waves free of any gel or hairspray. Loose and carefree. Even his clothing reflected an easygoing manner with the untucked polo barely covering the telltale bulge in his baggy, blue cotton shorts. She swallowed, and tried to look away, but she was drawn to his arousal. She longed to stroke him through the fabric of his shorts. Where had that thought come from? She twisted her fingers in her apron to keep from acting on impulse.

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Bad Date Stories?

voluptuous_msr (1)My Curve Appeal novella for Ellora’s Cave, Voluptuous releases next Friday, Sept 6th! I’m so freaking excited about this story. I loved writing this story. Loved writing a couple “real” characters, the kind of people you’d meet in your daily life, and giving them a really sexy hook-up.

But one of the other fun parts of writing this story was the bad date stories. Meredith and Sam both had their share of bad dates, as I’m sure we all had. They try to one-up each other with their horror stories. This was one of Sam’s:

“It’s your turn,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

His slow slide up her thigh stopped and he gently squeezed her flesh. “My turn?”

She settled in closer, shoulders touching, thighs rubbing, hands a little hungry for more. “For another bad-date story. Surely there was someone worse than the greedy woman who just wanted you to buy her food for the next week.”

Sam smiled and resumed his voyage beneath her dress. The waves of arousal swimming through her system grew larger and more insistent. She was glad she hadn’t worn a tight dress. The waitress came and they ordered another round of drinks. This would have to be her last one, and then she’d have to get some food in her stomach. Her head was whirling slightly but it was more from the man beside her and the intimate way he was touching her.

Meredith shifted in the much more comfortable seat, dropping her leg slightly to give him better access. She barely worried about what he thought about her fleshy thigh. The liquor had apparently done a good job of lowering her inhibitions.

“There was the woman who took her cat with us on our date,” he said. “The furry thing was curled up in her lap the entire time. She petted it and talked to it for the entire drive down the coast. I might as well have been their chauffeur. ”

“Maybe she was afraid you were going to try to get in her lap and she wanted protection.” She laughed louder when the thought hit her. “Ha! She was petting her pussy so you couldn’t.”

Sam joined in her laughter. His fingers had made it to the edge of her panties. Any worries she had about her thick thighs went flying from her mind when he skimmed a finger down the wet center.

How about you? Got a bad date story you can share?

Voluptuous – coming Sept 6th – pre-order now
Her Royal Romance – coming October 2013
Playing for Real – coming Feb 4, 2014

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, New Release | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

Kallypso Masters Excerpt and Contest

Chance to Meet two of my BDSM Subject Experts at a Convention in October

I’ll be featured at the Indie Romance Convention in Lebanon, TN, October 4-6. You can still register through Aug. 31. The entire conference (including some meals and light refreshments) is only $125. A room with two queen beds (up to four people) is under $70 at Comfort Suites in Lebanon (but be sure to mention the convention for the discount).

On Friday, Oct. 4, from 4-6:30 p.m., for convention attendees ONLY, I’m hosting a BDSM Intro for the Curious with light refreshments followed by a BDSM demonstration (informative, informal, Q&As, safety emphasis for newbies, etc.), altho I do believe Toymaker, my Dom subject expert, hopes to get his violet wand on the plane as carry on so he can demonstrate that). Shivers He will be joined by his submissive, eirocawakening, who also provides me with input from her perspective.

Please pimp this event out! (For your vanilla friends, just don’t mention the BDSM thing. That’s optional for attendees anyway. LOL)

There also will be a Saturday signing open to the public. Sign up NOW!

I’ll also be on a Saturday morning BDSM panel with Toymaker and eirocawakening, telling how they and others have helped shape my BDSM Scenes in Nobody’s Hero and Nobody’s Perfect.

new nobody's hero cover kdp

For instance, it was Toymaker who told me about how he liked to loosen the strands of rope and turn them into a flogger to warm up the skin (and the sub!). Here’s a glimpse of that part in my Shibari scene from Chapter Five of Nobody’s Hero:

“Clasp your hands behind your lower back, just above your ass.”

The abrupt command sent her erotic nerve-endings back on full alert. She straightened her back yet again and did his bidding.

He released her and picked up a red-dyed bundle of rope, unwrapping it and finding the ends. She lifted her butt off her heels and knelt taller for him, her breasts jutting out, erect and proud. She watched in the mirror as he shook out the strands of red rope, preparing to begin binding her.

Instead, he took the strands, threading them between his fingers, and rubbed the cold rope and his warm hands over her bare breasts. The sensual feel of the rope, along with the pressure of his hands, elicited a moan from deep within her throat. This was so different from the demonstration at Marc’s house. For one, her breasts were bare this time. But he seemed to be spending so much more time preparing her.

“That’s right, Kitten. Embrace the rope.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered. Her heartbeat fluttered. Waiting. Wanting. Needing.

“Breathe, baby.” Master Adam’s voice reminded her of the need for oxygen. She took a deep, relaxing breath. He continued to rub the rope over her breasts, abdomen, mons, even pressing it against her thong-covered clit and pussy, causing a delicious friction there that sent heat radiating throughout her body. Her breath hitched as her nipples became even more engorged. The rope and his hands moved up her arms leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their path. She fought to maintain her kneeling position, but the sensory overload left her wanting to puddle at his feet.

“Breathe, Kitten.”

Once more, she did as he commanded. His hands returned the rope to her breasts and her breath caught when he brushed the rope across her sensitive nipples. No longer able to fight gravity, she sagged against him, her head lolling to the side. His body enfolded hers. His lips kissed the curve of her neck, and then nipped at the tender flesh there. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and panted. Now. She wanted him to touch her now.


How could she do anything else?

He rose, and she knelt straighter, planting her butt against her heels for support. She watched the rope dance in his hands as he prepared it for the binding to come. Her eyelids drifted shut. All of a sudden, the rope lashed her torso, licking repeatedly at her tender nipples. She opened her mouth to scream only to realize she wasn’t experiencing pain, just surprise. He walked in a circle around her continually flogging her with the ends of the rope—touching every exposed area, shoulders, breasts, arms, thighs, hands, butt. The nerves rose to the surface to welcome the sensual lash of the rope.

Just as suddenly, the flogger ceased its stinging motion, and he knelt behind her again, separating her hair into two shanks and letting one fall over each shoulder to cover her breasts. Apparently, this time, he wasn’t going to bind it in the hair corset as he’d done at Marc’s house.

“Bend your elbows behind your lower back at ninety-degree angles and grab the opposite elbows with your hands. Your inner wrists need to be flush against your forearms.”

Karla hoped she did everything he’d ordered in his list of rapid-fire commands. Where did he want her elbows, hands, wrists? Had she done it right?

“Good girl.”

Her body warmed and relaxed at his praise. Her breasts jutted out even further in front of her, making them seem larger than they were.

“If you feel any tingling, especially in your arms, and eventually your legs, I want you to tell me immediately. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Well, it just gets hotter from there as he binds and suspends her, but the foreplay (warm-up) in this part of the scene was totally inspired by Toymaker.

Hope I’ll get to meet lots of you in Lebanon, Tennessee (just an hour or so east of Nashville) in October and you’ll get to meet two of my subject experts and can ask questions of your own!

For those wondering when Somebody’s Angel will be out, I’m told to answer, “When it’s ready.” I’m awful at guessing how long it will take me to write, of course. Definitely by the end of the year, but HOPEFULLY by this fall! Just stay tuned!

Learn more about this and my other books on my Buy Links page at Books are available at Amazon, Apple, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, All Romance eBooks, and Smashwords, so be sure to go download Masters at Armsand Nobody’s Angel wherever you shop for books. (Angel is 99 cents at B&N, but you can get Nook versions at All Romance eBooks and Smashwords that are free.)

Each month, I’ll share a scene and give away an e-book from my series. If you already have purchased Nobody’s Hero and Nobody’s Perfect, then we’ll put winners on the list to get book five, Somebody’s Angel, when it becomes available.

If you’ve read the first four books and want to join my secret Facebook group Rescue Me Series Open Discussion, please send a friend request to Karla Montague and she will open the door for you. Must be 18 to join.

And if you’d like to find Rescue Me and Kallypso Masters merchandise, such as t-shirts and aprons inspired by a scene in Nobody’s Angel that read: “Master Marc can put me in culinary bondage anytime” OR a beaded evil stick similar to the one used in Nobody’s Perfect, as well as signed paperbacks, check out my Kally Swag Store. With each order, you will receive a bag filled with free swag items, as well, including a 3-inch pin-back button that reads “I’m a Masters Brat,” two purple pens, bookmarks, and trading cards. Kally ships internationally. To browse my shop, go to

If you want to enter to win a free ebook (past or future book) from Kallypso Masters all you have to do is comment below and tell me what you think of the above excerpt. BE SURE TO LEAVE YOUR EMAIL so I can contact you if you win. 

Categories: Uncategorized | 68 Comments

New Release: Grand Slam by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse

Grand SlamHi everyone!

I’m delighted to announce a brand new release. Lily Harlem and I have been busily co-authoring, and this is our first release together – with more to come in the Raw Talent series. It came out yesterday. Grand Slam is a BDSM erotic sports romance, which I realise is a mouthful, but hey ho, that’s what it is! It’s deliberately been released on this date to be out in time for the US Open, as that’s where part of the action is set. The leading man is a world famous tennis player, and the leading woman is his psychologist.

Here’s the blurb:

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.

And an excerpt:

“And has the fracture site been giving you any pain while you’ve been at Los Carlos?”

He cocked his eyebrows. “What has that got to do with my mental state and all this psychobabble of yours?”

God, it was like drawing blood from a stone. I was certainly earning my money here. “Pain affects the body, yes, but also the mind. I’m just wondering if you’re still suffering any twinges.”


“And if you were you’d tell your doctor?”


“Good, because all pain is bad for your psychological health as well as your physical.” I crossed my ankles and tapped my heel on the wooden floor.

He looked at my feet. “Do you really think so?”

“Think what?”

“That all pain is bad?”

“Yes, it’s the body’s warning system to let you know something is wrong.”

“Or right,” he said quietly, his lips barely moving, his attention rising from my feet to my face.

“I’m not following you.”

He sat and swung his feet to the floor. Rubbed his hand down his cheek and around his chin; the stubble made a rasping sound against his palm.

“Travis?” I said, closing the notebook and hoping that would send a signal that whatever he wanted to tell me would be off the record. Was he still suffering when he was training? Had he not healed properly? If so that was something we needed to take very seriously.

He stared at me, almost as if he was angry that I’d made him think of something, then stood, walked to the window and surveyed L.A.

I couldn’t help but ogle his cute behind. I knew what his arse looked like naked, but bloody hell, he could fill out a pair of jeans to perfection. His tennis gear looked amazing on him but jeans, especially a pair that suggested he’d spent many an hour lounging in them, were enough to actually make my mouth water.

He placed his hands on his hips, kept his back to me. “Come here, Marie.”

“Why?” I looked at the back of his head, how his dark hair sat like silken fingers on his collar.

“Do as I ask.”

I was about to retort that I’d do no such thing. I was his psychologist and I’d stay in my chair, but something in me wanted to comply with his request. Perhaps it was the way he’d said it, as if I had no choice but to go to him, or maybe it was some kind of magnetism his sexy aura gave off that pulled me in like a fish on a line.

Placing the notebook and pen on the chair, I moved to the window and stood next to him, about a foot away.

“Some people like pain,” he said, still not looking at me.

“Masochists you mean?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

Shit, was he trying to tell me that he enjoyed the pain the accident had left him with? If so, we really needed to discuss this. “That’s not the majority of people though.”

“No, but more than you think. And some people like administering pain.” He turned to me, cocked his head slightly and moved into the space I’d left between us.

I looked into his eyes. Swallowed and tasted his cologne as it traveled into my nostrils and then laced my tongue. “Would you consider them to be good people, Travis? These individuals that like to hurt others.”

“I’ve known a few people who like to give and receive higher sensations and most of them I consider to be good friends as well as good people.”

I hesitated, felt his body heat radiating toward me, wrapping around me as I pondered his words. We were close, very close, and his consuming presence made logical thinking much harder than normal. “I’m not quite sure what you’re telling me.”

“You talk about pain like it’s a bad thing, Marie.”

“It is.”

He smiled but it wasn’t a sweet smile, more like one of a hunter who’d spotted prey.

“Pain is unpleasant for a reason,” I said. “Because it’s bad.”

“I disagree.” He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. It was a challenging, cocky gesture.

A tingle snaked its way up my spine and threatened to wreak havoc in my body by turning into a tremble. But I beat it down. I wouldn’t let a client get to me this way. I was the one supposed to be holding the reins here.

“Maybe, Marie, you should open your mind to new ideas with a little more grace.”

“I fail to see how I haven’t been graceful in discussing your theory that pain is good.”

“Can we keep it that way?”

“I hope so.”

“In that case,” he flicked his attention from my eyes and looked at my hair, “would you like me to demonstrate?”

Damn, the guy made me feel tiny. Even in my heels, his broad chest and wide shoulders were looming over me. “Okay.”

He twitched the right side of his mouth into a half-smile. Now he looked like a hunter who’d captured his prey. A trickle of fight or flight seeped into my system. Which would be my best option?

“Now that’s the first rule.” He reached up and undid the clasp holding my hair on the top of my head. It tumbled around my shoulders as the clasp fell to the floor. “Consent.”

“Doesn’t consent require knowing what you’re agreeing to?” Fuck, with him this close and stroking my hair, spreading it out, I’d pretty much agree to anything. Who was I kidding? Fight or flight was not an option, the only thing that shot through my mind was giving myself over to him. Allowing him to do whatever he wanted, control my body, feed it what it needed.

Damn, it had been too long since I’d been with a man. It was making me desperate.

He slotted his other hand over the left side of my head, the sound of him sliding his fingers over the shell of my ear noisy. My breath hitched and I locked my knees to stabilize my stance. I stared up at him, noting the small shafts of black hair sneaking out of his skin on his chin and the way his bottom lip was a little plumper than the top.

“You see, some pain,” he said, gathering my hair up at my crown and tugging to create tension on the roots, “can heighten the awareness of everything else going on in the body.”

He pulled harder, forcing my head to tip back.

I gasped as discomfort shot across my scalp.

He increased the pressure a little more.

I reached out and clutched at his shirt, felt his hard chest beneath. “Travis, I—”

“Shh, I’m just showing you.” He slipped his arm around my waist, dragged me close and yanked my hair, really hard.

“Ow, I—” A barrage of sensations blasted through my system. The feel of him pressing up against me, hot hard male, all wide pecs and solid thighs. The pain from having my hair tugged with force, and the awareness that my belly was shoved right up against his groin. A groin that held a wedge of thick flesh.

“Just feel,” he whispered, hovering his lips over mine. “Endorphins are rushing into your bloodstream, giving you a natural high as pain alerts your nerve endings that something exciting is happening.” He slid his free hand up my back, tracing the outline of my spine through my blouse.

I breathed in the air he was breathing out, warm and sweet. The scream of hurt in my scalp made me want to wriggle but being held so firmly and confidently kept me still. The heat of the discomfort slipped down my nape and neck and over my shoulders then combined with the lovely sensation of him stroking my back.

“Can you feel it?” he whispered. “Pain mixing with pleasure, the lines between the two blurring.”

I could feel it with every fiber of my being. My skin was alive with awareness, my breasts were heavy and desperate for stimulation, and between my legs I was buzzing for action. Good, hard man action, preferably of the naked, sweaty variety. “Yes,” I gasped.

He adjusted his hold on my ponytail of hair, the pull stepped up to another level.

“Ouch.” I fisted my hands against his chest. “Travis, please, let me go.”

“If you promise me one thing.”

“Ow, yes, come on.” I squirmed against him. That really did bloody hurt now. “What?”

He shut his eyes, sucked in a breath. Pushed harder into my body as he squeezed me closer.

Even with the distraction of having my hair yanked I could make out his now completely solid erection. “Travis!”

“Just remember what it is your body is crying out for at this moment in time.”


That was the word that jumped into my brain. Flooding my thoughts and blinding me with shock that I could want more pain, more hair-pulling, more heat blasting through my body.

Suddenly he released me and stepped back. I staggered as he turned and left me staring at his shoulders.

I let my hands fall to my sides, pulled in a deep breath and watched as he walked to the window, spread out his palms on the glass and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at his feet.

I straightened my glasses and ran a hand over my disheveled hair, the sting in my scalp receding rapidly. I took a step backward and rested my bum against the desk. My knees were weak and my stomach was still somersaulting. I cleared my throat. “What for?”

“For overstepping the line between client and psychologist.”

“I guess you did.” Hell, yeah.

“But you consented.”

“Like I said, I wasn’t really sure what I was agreeing to.” I struggled to keep the shake from my voice and calm my breathing.

He shook his head, remained focused on his feet.

“Travis, would you like to sit down again?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, well, can you turn around so we can talk?”

“Not for a minute or two, no.”

Fuck, so it hadn’t been my imagination. He really had got hard while tugging my hair. What a revelation about my client. He was into hair-pulling and not only that, it seemed administering pain turned him on.


Want more? There’s more info, a trailer and buy links here:

Check out the Raw Talent website here:

Add Grand Slam to your Goodreads shelves here:


Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012, 2013 and 2014 and Best Women’s Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, New Release | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Welcome Guest Author: Willow Brooke!

Hey everyone! I know the 23rd is my regularly scheduled date to drive you mad with my creative meanderings, but today I’ve got a treat for you! A friend of mine is launching her publishing career with JK Publishing, so I wanted to share her with all of you! Without further ado, let me turn you over to Willow Brooke so that she can tell you how she ended up writing Rush Against Time…

Willow Brooke Banner


Hi 69 Shades readers!

When I began the Twisted Fate series, I had no intention of it going in the direction it ended up.  My ideas of creating a shifter/vampire series with a few other magical elements was soon overtaken by my muse, and ghosts and a few more darker elements were thrown into the mix.  I am usually a poonie when it comes to thriller type movies and books, which made adding more scary features a surprise!

The second book is going to incorporate a variety of paranormal and magical beings, without running away and going too far into left field.  I want to keep the characters and the setting somewhat grounded enough to allow the reader to say, “What if this really happened?”  There is nothing better than being able to fall into a world that leaves you wondering and day dreaming about the possibilities of fiction becoming facts.  Our world is full of unexplainable things, so why not make them fun?

From a fight between good and evil, there is always a grey area that is crossed into to no prevail.  Stepping too far into the dark can be catastrophic, but knowing how far to go is sometimes impossible.  Join me on a journey of heart stopping action, twitterpating love, burning desire, and an emotional ride that will keep you entertained until the last page!

Buy it on all of the major ebook retailers now!


Willow BrookeJessa Meadows is an average girl, living the average life…of a wolf shifter.  Following traditions is expected, and something she can’t bring herself to do.  Her first heat slams her into a hormonal, irrational P.M.S. hell that she fights with all of her might.  She refuses to give her virginity to the first mutt that comes along, however wrong or unheard of it is in the shifter society.  Jessa wants her first time to be special with the man she is fated to spend the rest of her life with.  The idea of falling on her back for the first horn dog that comes along makes her stomach turn.

The wolves come in herds, giving every corny and rude pickup line invented.  Fighting off the suitors and her agitated wolf proves to be more complicated than she had originally anticipated, until illness sets in and leaves her at her horny mutt’s mercy.

Logan Runningwolf has grown up with Jessa since birth.  When every man within sniffing distance overeagerly offers their services in every humorous and pathetic way possible, he moves in to chase them off and claim the girl who has held his heart since childhood.  When a single kiss awakens destiny, he vows to protect and claim his mate.

Damion Shaddow is a highly trained warrior and Beta of the wolf clan.  At the age of 29, he is a brick wall of pure muscle power and dominance.  Life has become a monotonous hell that has left a loneliness the normal, shallow quick fixes can’t fill.  He is in a rut, and needs to change something, fast.

When he catches sight of the sexy little minx stretched half-naked on the couch, his wolf lunges at his guards.  Confusion and anger well up in him at the realization the curvaceous beauty is Jessa, a silly shifter girl who used to tease and play jokes.  Desire spikes in ways he has never felt….

Gavin Blackard has waited centuries to find the one woman the universe has picked to stand by his eternal side.  When he finds Jessa in her dreams, his search is over.  He sees her growing more ill every day, and knows time is running out.

Before he can save her from the heat, his sister threatens the lives of hundreds and the balance of the universe.  He has to stop her before it’s too late, and save his one and only true love in a rush against time…..

Three chosen mates, one demonic premonition….  Can fate prevail and save the world?

Warning: MFMM

My links: add me on FB!!/willow.brooke.75/about  or visit my author page!


**Note from Lori: If you’re looking for the winner of my giveaway for Dreams of the Wolf check the comments on the post dated 8-16-13!***



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A Taste of Domestic Discipline…A Moment with Cassandre Dayne

Do you know what domestic discipline is? I do a lot of blogging on my blog about this as well as spanking. I garner so much interest from the very topic. People are not just curious, they are hungering to learn more. Hmmm… As many of you know, I write in several genres covering various sometimes kinky topics from BDSM to figging. One I’ve been drawn to lately is the practice of domestic discipline. For those of you who might not know what lifestyle entails, this is usually where a man is considered the head of household. Now this can be in same sex couples of course, but for the sake of this blog and my upcoming book, we’re talking a traditional marriage. The man is indeed in charge and the woman Decision_Cover-smallhas to follow certain rules. This may or may not be like a D/s couple, but generally this is about a couple who struggles with the power and control in a family. What the difficulties tend to lead to are regular arguments and both the man and the woman being extremely unhappy.

Now what does it mean when she breaks the rules – as in lies, doesn’t follows directions, back talks, refuses to do chores and many others tailored for the couple? Corporate punishment is generally used. For the lay person, this means she is disciplined with various methods from corner time, soap in the mouth and yes – being spanked. Some couples use a very traditional over the knee hand spanking, some use various implements such as a wood brush, a wooden spoon, or a paddle. Others use something a bit harsher including a belt or a switch. This varies. Some couples have her spanked only when she misbehaves while others practice maintenance spankings. They are simply given on a more regular basis to keep her in line and to also at times to help ease her tension.

Power exchange and making certain she realizes he is in charge does take time. I’ve heard of situations where couples get into the lifestyle (and keep in mind this doesn’t happen over night (time, communication and self discovery is involved) where every morning for an extended period of time she gets a spanking before anything else. This is to simply say – “I’m in charge”. That might seem a bit extreme but you as a couple determine what is needed and remember, it takes time to break bad habits. If you’re used to yelling or snapping back at him, I dare say it’s going to take you a few whippings and perhaps soap in the mouth along with a few hours spent in the corner to break that habit. Don’t roll her eyes. Think about the last fight you had. Who was winning? Was anyone? Did you find yourself merely arguing for argument’s sake? I bet I know the answer.

Some of you know that I do feel men have been very emasculated in our society over the past few decades. I think the push for everyone to be equal has aided the very fact the divorce rate is so high. Think of the scenario above. What if she back talked and instantly knew what was going to happen? She finally stopped short and waited for his directions. He might tell her to get undressed and wait in the corner. Then when he was ready he’d take her hand, explain to her what she’d done so wrong and ease her over his lap. After the spanking he’d wipe her tears and hold her, explaining again why he won’t tolerate bad behavior. Primitive? It’s very Christian and becoming increasingly popular.

Well to each their own and you as a couple have to decide what’s important to you but I honestly believe corporal punishment is a highly effective method of bringing a couple back together and much Undoing His Beltcloser. I have my second domestic discipline piece coming out on the September 3rd. I was really surprised the first one did as well as it did. I think there are a lot of people interested in the concept of the man taking charge. The trilogy is taking a couple through all phases of deciding to enter into the lifestyle. It’s poignant and sexy and I’m so pleased people seem to enjoy.

IN honor I thought I’d give you a sexy flash this morning to “wet” your appetite and give you some thoughts. Could you have the courage to talk to your husband or your wife about making the change and practicing this?




The slamming door told her so many things. Dani Fuller set her pocketbook down on the entrance table and peeked around the corner. Mark was fuming all right. Well finding out at brunch, a lovely scheduled event with their best friends, about not one but two blatant lies was bad enough. Allowing her a chance to explain and yet issuing another lie was unforgiveable. The look of disappointment in his eyes had chilled her to the bone. Mark had casually leaned over, keeping a smile plastered to his face, and whispered exactly what was going to happen when they arrived home.

Dani glanced out the door at the gorgeous spring day, one they should merely be enjoying together, and cringed. Why had he disobeyed him then lied? And lied again? God! She brushed her shaking hand through her hair as she walked into the kitchen and stood quietly, watching his swallow but controlled breathing. There was nothing left to say.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” Mark said quietly.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

“The sad thing is I’m not certain you are sorry. I honestly think you believed you could get away with lying. That’s what frustrates me.” He turned around to face her, sadness in his eyes. “I truly thought we were making headway, getting closer and now this. Why? Can you tell me why?”

The question was tougher than she had imagined. Dani had no clue why. Was she trying to see what she could get away with or merely balking his every command? She looked away and sighed. “I don’t know why. I really don’t.”

“Well, that’s the most honest thing out of your mouth today.”

When he hesitated, merely looking at her, she fidgeted and swayed back and forth like a kid. “I’m sorry. I know I hurt you and I won’t let it happen again.”

“I know you’re have some difficulties at work and you’ve been under a lot of stress. I’ve been trying to figure out what might help. I think that for the next month we’re going to include maintenance spankings, two or three a week when I decide to help ease your tension. In addition, no Facebook and I’m going to limit your Internet time altogether. You’ve been spending far too much time chatting and I think that’s not helping your stress levels.”

Dani opened her mouth to object, then nodded. He was right. “Yes, sir.”

“All right. Let’s make you feel better and help you understand that I won’t tolerate lying period. Get undressed and wait in the corner. I’ll be back later to give you a much needed spanking. After that, I’m white-shirtsorry to say, but I’m going to wash out your mouth.”

Oh God! She hated the soap more than anything. Lying. Why in the hell did she lie? She watched him walk out of the room and her entire body drooped, the anticipation killing her. When Mark was this calm and collected, the spanking was going to be severe. She deserved nothing less. She scanned the perimeter of the kitchen, the wide open kitchen with lots of windows, and sucked in her breath. Their neighbors weren’t that close but if they were outside, enjoying the lovely weather, all they had to do was look over and possibly see what was happening. Now she was shaking.

Fumbling, she managed to yank off her dress, bra and panties, carefully laying them on top of the kitchen table. She’d never felt so naked in all her life. Easing into the corner, she closed her eyes and lowered her head to wait. And wait. And wait.

A full thirty minutes had to have passed before Mark came back into the room. Dani gulped as she heard the chair being dragged across the kitchen tile. Her legs were quivering, her mouth dry. The anticipation was much worse than the punishment. Well usually. Somehow she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be sitting comfortably for a few days. When she heard him clear his throat she knew the time was approaching. Be a big girl and don’t cry, don’t fight it. Right. She always cried, wailed and kicked out. He sometimes had to tie her down.

“Dani. It’s time.”

No one would ever know what the three little words meant and how they affected her. Shaking, she turned and moved toward him, self conscious about being naked. Siting in the hardback chair, he studied her as she approached. The look on his face was one of peace, not anger. Yep. He was pissed. When she was merely a few inches from him she stopped, closing her eyes briefly, but not before seeing the dreaded hairbrush on the counter next to him. Shit. Shit.

Mark leaned forward and took both of her hands into his. “I love you very much and adore everything about our marriage, which is why this pains me so much to have to punish you severely. I know you want to be a better woman, as well as an obedient wife, and that’s why I’m hard on your. I want you to do well in all things. I know you crave following the rules and I am so proud of you when you do so. When you disobey and disrespect me like this? I’m just floored.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Mmm… I believe you are starting to be very sorry. Today I’m going to spank you multiple times and in between each is going to be some corner time for you to reflect. Do you understand?”

Multiple times? Oh God. “Yes, sir.” Dani was already sniveling. Sweet Jesus her ass was going to be on fire.

“Good girl. Now over my knee and I’m going to spank you with my hand first.”

The moment she was pulled over his lap her heart began to race. She palmed the floor and clenched her eyes shut. Dani was terrified but could feel the tension already draining from her body. This was exactly what she needed.

Mark rubbed her naked ass several times before stroking her back. “I love you.”


What do you think? Could domestic discipline work for you and in your marriage? Something to think about. Anticipation is the first in the trilogy coming from Rebel Ink Press. I hope you’ll consider indulging in learning more about the lifestyle.

Kisses   xxx


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I’ve spent the last three days creating a Facebook page for Randi Alexander Books. It was fun, and I learned a lot more than I ever wanted to know about Facebook. But I’m exhausted. I deserve a little sexy lovin’ today. In the form of an excerpt, of course.

Double Her Fantasy is doing very well at All Romance Ebooks and Amazon, and I have some wonderful reviews that I love reading. I appreciate each of you taking the time and effort to leave those reviews. They always make me smile and give thanks for the opportunity I’ve been given to write.

Okay, enough of my mushy stuff, let’s get on with the smut!

Blurb of Double Her Fantasy: At a comic book convention, artist Megan Shore is thrilled to meet action movie hunk Garret McGatlin. Usually reclusive, Megan flirts with the leading man of her sexual fantasies. He invites her to his suite for a drink, but when she arrives, his rancher brother Trey opens the door and unleashes Megan’s cowboy fantasy. Both men pour on the charm, and she can’t decide which of them she desires more.

The McGatlin brothers have shared women, but none of them were like Megan, irresistible and perfect for both of them. Working together, they execute a potent seduction. During a hot, amazing week, the three-way relationship becomes emotionally charged. When they’re thrown into the media spotlight, Megan fears the exposure will trigger a past threat. Garrett and Trey need to prove they can keep Megan safe as well as happy and satisfied in their arms.

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Excerpt from Double Her Fantasy: Trey stepped closer, hooking his hand around the nape of her neck. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you, Megan. Stepping out of that elevator. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, my craving for you is insatiable.”

A hot spot formed where his fingers pressed at the back of her neck, and her head bobbled slightly as the beginning of a spontaneous orgasm made her woozy and weak in the knees.

Garret stepped close and took her arm. “Are you okay?”

“Too much testosterone.”

He laughed and pulled her against him. “We’ll hold you up, baby.”

Trey’s chest touched her back, his cock fitting into the cleft of her ass.

She gave in to temptation, dropped her head back on his shoulder, and pressed her palms to his thighs.

He wrapped an arm around her belly. “Sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

He did, and she loved every inch of flesh that sealed them together. Hot and firm, his hard muscles ramped up the climax that threatened to overtake her, promising to send her to nirvana.

Sneaking his free hand between them, he unhooked her bra. She sighed, knowing what would come next.

Garret pulled the bra away and dropped it. “Holy fuck. You’re incredible.”

Trey looked over her shoulder. “Yeah, amazing.” He cupped his hands under her breasts.

Their stares, their touches, sent moisture flooding her slit. Her mouth watered, wanting them, wanting more. She let a soft moan escape.

Garret grinned and bent, taking her nipple in his mouth. “Is this what you want, baby?”

Electric charges raced from her breast to her cunt. “Yes.” Trey’s big hands held her breasts, offering them to his brother. A tiny cry escaped her throat at the sensual decadence.

He switched to her other breast and nibbled, his teeth creating waves of chills that flowed through her chest. Kissing her between her breasts, he looked up at her, his eyes dark, deliciously erotic. His lips tasted lower, down her belly until he knelt.

“Oh, God.” Her breath caught and her hips bucked.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Trey murmured in her ear. His fingers slid over her nipples, still wet from his brother’s mouth.

“Can’t. So close.”

“Slow down,” Garret murmured. “You want this to last don’t you?”

No. She wanted to come. Wanted to release the pressure building in her core, in her head, in her breasts.

Trey stopped teasing her nipples and her belly did a flip.

“Mmm,” she complained.

“Megan,” the cowboy said hot and low in her ear. “You’re gonna enjoy this.” He took her earlobe into his mouth and nibbled.

“Baby.” Garret’s voice demanded her attention.

She looked down as he took her thong in his white teeth, locked glances with her, and slowly eased the red satin down her thighs.


Double Her Fantasy is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance Ebooks

Other big news! I’m starting a Street Team. If you’re interested in finding out more about Randi’s Wranglers, jump over to my website or contact me with any questions.

“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
Facebook Fan Page

My Books – read the first chapters and find buy links:
Chase and Seduction
Double Her Fantasy
Cowboy 6 Pack
Cowboy Jackpot: Christmas
Cowboy Jackpot: Valentine’s Day
Cowboy Jackpot: St. Patrick’s Day
Her Cowboy Stud
Turn Up the Heat
Cowboy Bad Boys
Cowboy Lust
Free Read! A Gentleman and a Cowboy is available at Amazon, Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, Diesel Ebook Store, Barnes and Noble

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Do Rugged Guys Do It Better?

Recently I had a discussion with a very good friend about heroes. We have your alphas and betas. But is there something in between?

He isn’t Alcide on True Blood. He won’t mop the floor with anyone who makes eye contact with his girl. But he doesn’t only open car doors for you, bring you flowers, and change your flat tires.

Can Mr. Nice Guy and Mr. Tough Guy make a love child? A son every girl wants? He isn’t a pansy–he’ll still punch your teeth out if you give him a good reason, but he’s a lover, not a fighter.

Beta doesn’t mean less sexy, folks. Here are a few examples from movies:

Orlando Bloom in “Pirates of the Caribbean”
Keanu Reeves in “The Replacements”

These guys wielded swords and took hits on the football field, but they were charmers and softies when it came to their women.

What do you like in a hero? Let me hear your thoughts!

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Read on for an excerpt of UNBROKEN, now available for pre-order. In this book, we have an alpha and beta hero. See who you prefer…

Tucker stared at him hard. “What the hell happened, man?”

Was that jealousy he read on Tucker’s face? “It seems Claire was mighty upset by something. So upset, in fact, that she beat the living fuck out of your truck.”

At that, Tucker laughed out loud. “She weighs a hundred and ten pounds dripping wet. How much damage could she have done?”
Christian scraped his fingers over his scalp. “Quite a bit with a baseball bat.”

Tucker’s eyes bugged out, and in a flash, he was on his feet and storming out the door. Christian didn’t budge from his spot, one ear cocked, waiting.
A howl of rage drifted in. A few seconds later, Tucker’s violent footfalls preceded the man.


“I know,” Christian cut him off. “Question is what did you do to her?”

Tucker dropped abruptly to the sofa arm and buried his head in his hands. “I stood her up last night.”

Just as Christian had suspected. Instead of staying with one girl who he might fall for, Tucker ran out and found one to share with Christian.


Em Petrova
~hardworking heroes–in bed and out~

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Welcome Guest Bloggers Liv Honeywell and Domitri Xavier

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“Trust is the glue of life. It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships.”
― Stephen R. Covey

In our book, The Journal, the central theme is trust. Despite knowing she is absolutely forbidden to do it, the slave looks in her Master’s private journal. She does it for the best of intentions but she still knows it is wrong. Her Master is, understandably, hurt, angry and disappointed in her. He feels that she has broken his trust, both by reading his journal and by not telling him that she has done it, and she is duly punished for what she has done.

In a vanilla relationship, you have to have trust, of course – that your partner won’t cheat on you; that you can rely on them to be there for you; that they won’t empty the bank account and disappear, etc. In an M/s relationship you need all of that plus a whole lot more!

Domitri was unequivocal about this: “If you can’t trust the sub, you have no business being in a relationship with her,” he said, “though of course it does cut both ways. The sub really needs to be able to trust their dominant as well, whether Top, Dom or Master, though I think particularly so in a Master/slave relationship.”

He went on to say that in an M/s relationship the partners are not equal. This brings a great responsibility to the Master. He must know his slave so well that he knows how to push her to her very limit but not push her beyond her capabilities. It is such an intimate knowledge that the Master has of the sub, and it must be established over many months and years.

He thinks that what it is so important to understand in an M/s relationship (and so few people outside the BDSM world do) is that the Master is in complete control of his slave 24/7. He can summon her at any time and she has no right to complain or suggest that they might do things another way. The slave must do nothing, other than obey.

As an example, if the slave is at a friend’s house for a chat or even having lunch in public she may receive a text saying, “Excuse yourself and go to the ladies room.” Instantly, but of course politely, she must follow that command. What Master wants or demands must take precedence over everyone and everything else. No ifs or buts, what the Master says is law. And a good slave will know this.

He also said that a good Master will need to recognise that impeccable behaviour in public is paramount and an instruction from him should be carried out with courtesy to her friends or to the general public. She is his slave. At all times she is representing him and any failure in good manners would inevitably reflect on him… He thinks that the letters ‘WWMW’ should practically be stencilled on the inside of the sub’s eyelids, as constantly on her mind should be ‘What Would Master Want?’

As a Master, you have to trust that even when your slave is out of sight she will do what you have told her to do, that rules set up in your relationship are adhered to even when you can’t see her to check. You must be able trust that she will behave appropriately and obey you when you aren’t present just as much as she would if you were standing over her.

Trust isn’t only for the Master, of course. The sub has to trust her Master to know her completely and accept her fully. She has to trust that, having that level of knowledge of her, whatever he asks of her will be within the bounds of reason and good sense; and that she can trust him to push but not break her limits.

So do you think you could cope with being in a 24/7 Master/slave relationship? Could you handle that much responsibility as a Master? Could you give yourself so completely as a slave?

It’s a question I’ve asked myself often, particularly with all the writing we’ve done for The Journal and with starting Shreds, the next in the series recently. I’ve never been in an M/s relationship and it has been, and still is, a challenge to write from the slave’s point of view. I’ve had to really explore how I would react to the situations in both stories – how I would feel, what I would think. There’s no doubt at all that I am intrigued by and drawn to this lifestyle though. I suspect Domitri knew that before I did.

One thing I don’t have to question is the level of trust needed to have a relationship like that. Both Domitri and I agree – trust must be absolute in an M/s relationship for it to work.

“A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real…, that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets another.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: First Series

How much more so for a sub and her Master?

“Come to my study at eight o’clock sharp. Dress for dinner. Wear high heels and put on that dress – you know what I expect of you.”

When the order comes Livia is torn between anticipation and dread.

Does he know? How could he possibly know what she has done? And how can she find the words and the courage to tell him?

As eight o’clock edges ever nearer, Livia waits outside the study door, trembling; uncertain of what she will find when she comes face to face with her Master.

If he knows… If he does, there will be consequences. There is no doubt about that.

What will be the price for her moment of disobedience?

Buying Links:

The Journal is available from Amazon US – and Amazon UK –


“Look at me.”

The words I had been half hoping for, half dreading. Would he be able to tell what I was thinking? I opened my eyes and looked up at him, letting him see how vulnerable I was before him and how much I wanted to please him. The expression on his face almost stopped my breath. There was so much love in his eyes, such emotion, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat and blinked back tears of joy mixed sickeningly with guilt. How very much I loved this man, and what I had done to him…

He swept me into his arms and kissed me hard, his hands roaming my body again. Our tongues tangled; his determinedly invading my mouth, mine softly yielding to his touch. I leaned against him, wishing that I could hold him too. I pressed my body against his, wanting to show him how much he meant to me, hoping that would be enough.

He broke the kiss and moved slightly, his hand slipping between our bodies to tease me between my legs again. I was soaking wet. How could I be otherwise? He did not even need to touch me to provoke this reaction. When we were together, his presence was enough and, when apart, just the thought of him was all I needed. My body was not mine any more. It responded to him, ached for him, whether I would wish it or not. I could deny him nothing.

He lifted his hand to my mouth; his fingers wet, and gently painted my lips with my own juices. I tasted my arousal on my tongue but would have no more dared to wipe it away, than I would think to say ‘no’ to him. I stood with my mouth open, my juices trickling down my chin, awaiting his pleasure.

He pressed his fingers further into my mouth, probing deeply and I tried to relax, to let him penetrate where he would, but I choked as his finger reached the back of my mouth. “No,” he yelled and I shrank back, mortified that I had not been able to give him what he required of me. I hurried to open my mouth again, concentrating hard on relaxing my throat, and this time I was fully open to him.

He removed his hand from my mouth and lifted my dress, stroking and exploring my breasts. I licked his fingers when asked and he circled my nipples so lightly and tenderly that it was almost difficult to believe that he could ever hurt me.

His touch on my breasts roughened and he gripped them tightly, crushing my nipples. I closed my eyes, torn once again between pain and pleasure; so aroused it was close to unbearable. My knees weakened and I leaned against him, my head resting against his shoulder. I could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against my hip and I moved just a little against it, hoping, despite what I’d done, that this time he would use my body; that I would feel him deep inside me.


Liv Honeywell:

When not writing about delicious, hot male dominants and the female subs who love them, I’m usually doing something craft-like, reading, baking, eating the results of said baking, and attempting to satisfy the demands of His High and Mighty Dominance (the cat!). My first story, Imagine, was published with Silver Moon Books last year and Coming, Ready or Not! is my first solo book. The Journal was co-written with Domitri Xavier.

You can follow me on my blog –, Twitter –, Facebook -, Goodreads – and my Amazon page is here:

Domitri Xavier:

Domitri Xavier comes from a rich heritage, including Russia, France and Yorkshire. He is the quintessential English gentleman and lives alone in his cavernous mansion, Upton Abbey.

Domitri is not only a writer, composer, pianist, raconteur, wit and poet, he also enjoys a number of hobbies; he breeds Basset Hounds, plays chess (although he has yet to record a victory) and he is a renowned collector of used tea bags – Earl Grey, naturally.

He fills his remaining time writing erotic fiction, much of it based on his own lifestyle at the Abbey.

His poems have been published on Bitten Press’s website – and The Journal is his first book.

You can find Domitri on Facebook –, his Facebook friend page is, his blog is, his Goodreads page is and his Amazon page is

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