Posts Tagged With: excerpt

New Release from Alice Gaines


For years, Mora has studied the ancient art of sex in the literature and history of her planet, Vesta. Now she’s been assigned to visit Earth to discover, hands-on, how sex is performed so she can re-teach the pleasures of the flesh to her people. Unfortunately, she’s been paired with an aristocratic prig who prides himself on tight control of his emotions and denial of any sensual pleasure. Thank the Universe he’s a handsome devil, or the job would be impossible.

Laer has spent his life in pursuit of the intellectual over the carnal. Unfortunately, he scores high on Mora’s so-called tests of sensuality. Now he’s been assigned to a mission to Earth to study how to give and receive sexual pleasure. Watching a pair of Earthers make love opens up a new reality for him, but what follows between him and Mora in the bedroom steals not only his dignity but his heart.

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And now, for an Excerpt.  (Adult content to follow)


He went to the bathroom door and paused on the threshold. Not far from where he stood, she sat in the huge, sunken tub as water gushed from the whirlpool jets, creating swirling currents around her. She straightened and stilled. Sensing his presence? He hadn’t made a sound.

“As the Earthers say,” she said. “Come on in. The water’s fine.”

“Did you really need to bathe in the middle of the night?” he said.

“I wanted to.” She looked over her shoulder at him, and her gaze fell to his erection and stayed there. “My, my, Laer. What have you been doing?”

“Imagining you.” He went to the tub and sat on the edge with his feet in the water. It was, indeed, heavenly. “And our mission.”

She gave him a smile full of sin. “Ready to experience something new?”

“What did you have in mind?”

She floated toward him, eased his legs apart, and crouched looking up at him, her face near his stiff rod. She gripped him by the base. “I could practice giving a man pleasure by playing with this.”

Vesta, what her touch did to him. All the sensations from his dream came crashing back into his consciousness. “Would that give you pleasure, too?”

“It would be fun.” She stroked him from the root to the tip.

“Then please proceed,” he said.

She bent and closed her lips around the head of his cock, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. So much more powerful than he’d thought possible, even in his dream. He closed his eyes to concentrate on it fully. The heat, the pressure as she sucked and slid her lips downward over his shaft. The throbbing grew more intense, as if he’d burst. Of course, he would if he allowed her to continue. He’d climax, shooting his essence into her mouth. No, he’d stop her before he lost complete control. So much sweeter to lose himself inside her body. But for now, he’d allow her to give him this sort of pleasure, and at some point, he’d do the same for her.

He opened his eyes to watch, although they didn’t focus completely, and her image came to him wrapped in a haze of lust. She moved her head up and down, her cheeks working to create suction. His skin gave off the glow of arousal, and so did hers, although less intense. Giving him oral sex aroused her, too. Interesting.

“It’s good.” He groaned. “Vesta, so good.”

She removed his rod from her mouth and held it against her cheek. The deep, deep blue of it showed how close he’d come to orgasm, and she’d have to notice the fact.

“I want to be inside you when I come,” he said.

She grinned at him. “You will be.”

“Then, now.”

“In a little bit.” She went back to caressing him with her mouth. Gritting his teeth in an effort for some control, he allowed her to continue. Just a few seconds more. He could hold on, take what she offered, and still fend off his orgasm.

He could, that was, until she reached between his legs and softly brushed his sac with the tips of her fingers. The action came as a total shock, and his body stiffened, ready to surrender to the inevitable.

No, he would not be so selfish. “Stop, Mora. Take me inside you while I touch the place you like so much.”

She released him, and when he lowered himself into the tub, she came toward him, ready to part her legs in welcome.

“Turn around,” he said. “Your back toward my front.”

She did as he’d instructed, and now he could grip his sex by the base to direct the tip to the lips of her sex. As she sank down onto him, she arched her back and placed her hands over her breasts.

“I’ll do that.” It was his place to touch her to give her pleasure, after all. When she didn’t have him with her, she could do what she wanted, but with his sex fully embedded in hers, he’d made her body his.

A possessive thought, but so very right under the circumstances. He pushed her hands aside and cupped her breasts, rubbing the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Softly, the way she liked.

“Oh, Laer,” she crooned. “Such a quick learner.”

“All credit to my teacher.” Just because he could, he nipped at the soft skin where her neck met her shoulder.

“And an animal, too.”

“To your credit as well.”

“How you fill me,” she said. “Did you get bigger?”


“And to think our race gave this up.” Then she began to move, pushing herself upward and then lowering herself again. Her muscles gripped him with every motion. Squeezing. He’d approached climax earlier, and she’d have him there again soon. Before his control slipped, he smoothed his hand downward, over her belly to the hair covering her sex. When he reached the spot where her lips had parted to take him inside, he found her clit. Already hard, the bud awaited his touch, and he obliged, rubbing her and pressing.

“Vesta!” she cried. “Oh, beloved home, that’s exactly it.”

“And this?” He flicked his finger over her clit.

This time, she didn’t answer with words but with a cry. He’d brought her close, and now they could come together. He thrust up into her, barely aware of the water sloshing all around them. His lust-addled brain did register the glow of her skin, now fully as bright as his own. And the more they moved, the tighter the grip of her sex around his. He couldn’t last, but he had to. He had to make her come and soon.

He continued moving inside her while he used his finger to stroke her bud, as fast and hard as he could manage. His mind blanked out to everything but the desire to please her and the sensations of her walls milking him.

Just when he couldn’t take another moment and he would explode, she signaled her orgasm with a shout. Her inner muscles tightened even more around him, and he pounded into her as his climax claimed him. He came with a rush, and then she was spasming around him, pushing him even higher. He released his essence into her in powerful waves, crashing over each other, and both their voices echoed off the walls.


Categories: Alice Gaines, erotic, Excerpt, futuristic, paranormal romance, raffle, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Exclusive First Chapter of Lucan by Kim Black – Reckless Anthology

Hey All! I have been dying to share my piece for the Reckless Anthology and I am so happy to be able to give you all a pre-view!

This piece is completely different from anything I’ve written before.

I hope that you all enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.




“Day one hundred and thirty six,” I mumble to myself as I gingerly cross from the bedroom into the bathroom. That is the number of days I have been in remission since beginning my new treatment plan with my doctors.

It has been a long road, but somehow—through much research, tears and groveling to the big guy upstairs—I have finally found a way to keep my condition in check. Or, at least, somewhat in check.

Remission for me dO’t mean that I didn’t still get the occasional lump here and there, but for the most part I have gotten my HS in control. Who would have thought?

My secret? Stress free living and a new diet regimen that seems to be keeping whatever triggers that had plagued me for years at bay. It’s a tough route to take and many HS sufferers don’t even consider doing what I do, but I have made the choice to try this plan. So far, it’s been beneficial, although I am so dying for a slice of pizza or my favorite… Vanilla bean ice cream.

The change of my diet has been the roughest on me. I have always been a very picky eater, but nonetheless, I am a foodie through and through. There is nothing like a good bacon cheeseburger or the right Caribbean style bake macaroni and cheese. All my absolute favs, but I can’t have any of it.

Why? Because of fucking HS.

Many people aren’t even familiar with the disease and those who suffer from it tend to be a bit embarrassed by it. I happen to be one of those people. Nothing is more embarrassing than having a huge abscess like golf ball between your legs or under your arm. Or when it’s so bad that you can’t even close your legs and walk.

How the hell do you explain it to people? I can’t really say, ‘Oh, I’m walking like this because there is a huge baseball sized lump in between my legs, right next to my lady bits.’ Yeah, right!

I don’t bother explaining anymore. I just ignore the stares when I get a flare up and silently curse them out because they are all normal and have never dealt with such a debilitating disease that shows no signs of ever being cured. No, I am not going to explain any of it to anyone anymore.

I even stopped dating a few years ago. Really, what the hell is the point? What man would want to deal with the fact that you can’t always have sex and that you are in pain all the time? That’s way too much to ask of anyone. So, I have decided to just remain single.

It’s not so bad, really. I mean, it would be nice to have someone that understands all that I am going through while fighting this disease. But after my ex broke up with me and specifically told me that he just couldn’t handle my being sick all the time, I figured I’d better cut my loses and fit myself for a chastity belt made of reinforced steel.

As I turn on the water in the bathroom, I sigh as I think back to how much Jason had hurt me. We’d only been going together for a few months, nothing too serious really so I wasn’t upset about it ending. It was the reasons behind the break up that messed me up. It still affects me till this day if I am to be very honest with myself.

But in the end, I realize now that he had done me a favor and made me see how selfish it is to take someone else down this journey through HS with me. It’s my disease, my broken body and I have to deal with it on my own.

Shortly after starting my new regimen, I quit my job. I loved being an accountant for one of the biggest banks in New York, but the stress of the job proves to be too much on my body. Often times, I would get three or four HS flare ups, making just getting out of the bed difficult. So, despite the fact that I had no means of making money doing anything else, I resigned.

Three months later, I began working from home as a virtual assistant for a few small businesses in the Brooklyn – Bedford Stuyvesant area. It isn’t as fast pace and hectic as my last job, but it pays the bills and that’s all I can ask for.

Stepping out of the shower, I make my way back to my bedroom, opening the top draw to my dresser and pull out my daytime pajama set. I chuckle as I throw it on, since it makes absolutely no sense to have two different levels of pajamas. But since I rarely leave the apartment, I feel the need to differentiate between the PJs I wear during the day while I worked and the ones I wear at night to go to bed. It’s silly, I know, but it works for me and that’s all that matters.

Strolling to the kitchen, I hit the button on the coffee machine and go through the process of starting up my computer. I have a lot of work ahead of me today and only eight hours to get it done. Two of the companies I work with have recently began increasing their revenues, which in turn mean more work for me, organizing all their documents and spreadsheets.

Once the computer is turned on, I head back to the retrieve my coffee as there is absolutely no way I can start my day without it—even if it’s the decaffeinated stuff. Freaking HS took that away from me too. Still, I pretend it’s the good stuff and need it just as much as I would the real deal.

Pouring the dark liquid into my ‘Hello Kitty’ cup, I mentally do a rundown of my to-do list, reorganizing in my mind what takes priority. Placing the glass coffee decanter back, I reach for the refrigerator to retrieve some vanilla soy milk. Looking on the both the top shelf and the side compartments of the door, I groan when I realize that I have run out.

Closing the refrigerator door, I eye the dark liquid in my cup suspiciously. I’d never been one to drink black coffee, but I wonder if my dislike for the taste will win over having to go to the grocery store.

I bring the cup closer to my face, smelling it and then blowing on it gently, all the while mentally preparing myself.

Just pretend it’s not black, I tell myself just as I bring the mug to my lips and tip it over only to immediately twirl around and spit it back up into the sink.

“Shit,” I grumble as I place the mug down on the kitchen island and make my way back to my bedroom.

Looks like I have to head to the store first before beginning my work day. Trust me, my employers will thank me for it. There is nothing worse than me without my morning Joe crunching numbers in excel.



The tension in the air intensifies as Petrov advances to the center of the room. His posture is straight, his steel blue eyes void of all emotion and his moves are purposeful.

Straightaway, Vladimir and his men are on high alert, standing around the dimly lit room awaiting to hear the purpose of this impromptu meeting. Each knows that Petrov is not a man to request your presence without cause, as speaking to anyone below the rank of Vladimir is beneath him and for the others to be called in meant the boss is not happy.

I look around the room, and take in the selected few before us. The air of the room is charged in anticipation and wariness. I know something isn’t right. From the second I was called in this morning, my stomach has been churning.

On the rare occasions Petrov has called a meeting, it has never ended well—almost always ending in bloodshed. So it isn’t a matter of what he has to say tonight. No, it’s a matter of who would die and why. But that isn’t what bothers me as I stand to the right of Petrov, and Alexandrov—aka Alexander, his brother, to his left.

I’ve spent the last ten years working for The Petrov Crime Family, one of the most ruthless Russian organizations in New York. I’d started as a Byki, a bodyguard under the Vor, Vladimir, a man as heartless as a stone. This is where Petrov started most men. Only with Vladimir’s seal of approval did you advance.

Swarm too much and you were killed. Seem too eager and you were also killed. He only picks the best of the best and after working under him for three years, I’d been advanced to a contractor. Lethal, brutal and the best. This earned me favor with Vladimir and then finally with Petrov.

Faithfully, I served Petrov until my talents and skills positioned me to where I am today—the place I’d set my sights on from the time I’d entered the family. As Petrov’s Councilor or the Sovietnik as the Russians calls it, I am his right hand man.

Standing beside Petrov as his second in command, despite the fact that I am not a full blown Russian—a transgression Alexander seems to hold against me at every cause—I am not in the position where a meeting is called without my knowledge. The fact that I too am left in the dark does not sit well with me, but of course this is of no concern to Petrov. And so, I keep my mouth shut and my eyes and ears open.

“Do you know why I have called this meeting?” Petrov asks once he’s situated behind his desk.

The room grows eerie quiet as all eyes are trained on the boss. Despite the fact that each one of us know the outcome of this meeting, not one of the men show a single sign of fear. They know better. Fear has no place in the presence of Petrov. He both detests it and thrives on it.

Petrov eyes each man penetratingly before continuing, “I received a phone call last night from my contact within the authorities. I am sure you all remember Andrei. It seems the FBI has been investigating our shipments and he has reason to believe that one of my men may be an informant.”

Petrov kept his voice devoid of emotion and calm even though I know he is anything but. If there is any sin one is capable of committing against the brotherhood that Petrov despises it would be a rat and I can’t help but swallow down the rise of panic in my chest.

I can’t deny that today’s meeting should have me worried, but I have done everything possible to remain fully infiltrated within the family. I’ve done every task asked of me, without question or hesitation. No, Petrov couldn’t have known, but that didn’t stop the bead of sweat from falling from my brow.

If Petrov has gotten wind that an informant has infiltrated the brotherhood then my time here is nearing an end and I’m not sure how I feel about this. It’s true that my mission is to get as much information as I can about the brotherhood so that the FBI can build a strong case against us, but therein lies the problem. Somewhere along the way I have stopped referring to the brotherhood as them and more as us. The lines that divide good and evil are so blurred when you are made to do the thing I’ve been ordered to do.

I have killed, mercilessly. I’ve tortured the enemies of the brotherhood with no remorse and if I were to be completely truthful, I’d do it again. For them. For us.

“Lucan.” He calls my name as he turns his head to face me. Raising my sweat covered brow only slightly as my heart pounds violently against my chest, I regard him as well. “Has the brotherhood not treated you well?” he asks as he leans forward in his chair and claps his hands together on the desk.

I give him a curt nod, “Of course, Petrov. The brotherhood is my life.” My answer is sure, strong, but not defensive just as it should be. It is also true, but only partially since I am not completely sure where my loyalty lies.

I have trained for this mission for well over five years before infiltrating. I know all that there is to know about the Petrov Bratva and most importantly, I am the best liar in the bureau. Trained to pass any lie detector test both manually and electronically without worry, so I know he suspects nothing from my answer.

He nods his head and regards his brother next, “And you Alexandrov, have I not been well to you?”

Alexander jerks his head in confusion, turning to face his only brother before answering, “Of course, brother.”

Petrov turns to face Vladimir next and I can see a silent exchange between the two men. Most would miss it, but not me.

The eyes.

You can tell a lot about a person just by looking into their eyes. Vladimir’s show acceptance and Petrov, understanding. Though I am not sure what their exchange is in regards to, I know it is not him who will fall before Petrov today.

Still, I force myself to remain stoical even though their exemption of me in this manner would be considered a slap in the face. I am the second in command and therefore should be made aware of what is going on.

Alexander is the next to speak, “Brother, what is all this? Are you going to hold us here all day while you ogle your men?” His annoyance is clear in his voice and his eyes, hold something I can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe…

I don’t understand it. I know for sure Alexander isn’t with the bureau, but his demeanor is questionable.

“All in good time, my brother.”

Petrov stands to his feet and rounds the desk. His movements are as sure as they always are when he stands in front of his safe, enters a code and pulls out his gun. I have seen that gun many times and still it puts me on edge each time he removes it from his safe.

The spravedlivost, justice. It’s what Petrov calls the steal in his hands—the gun a gift from his father before passing the Bratva over to him. Many of men have stared into the barrel of the stainless, prized weapon, begging for mercy. But mercy has no place in the brotherhood. Petrov doesn’t issue second chances and absolution to those he deems the enemy and anyone who crosses the brother is in fact an enemy.

“The brotherhood takes second place to nothing. I am the beginning and the end for all those who fall under my rule. You have no mother, no father, no sister—”

The sound of justice going off the second he turns around cuts him off and much to everyone’s surprise Alexander stumbles to the ground, blood pouring from his chest.

“And, no brother,” he finishes before turning swiftly and replacing the gun in the safe. “Lucan, be sure that his replacement is trust worthy, yeah?” is all he says before he exits the room.


I hope that you enjoyed the sneak peak!

You can pre-order this wonderful #99cents anthology now!



Categories: .99 Sale, 69 Shade Of Smut, anthology, Boxed Set, charity, Excerpt, Kim Black, pre-order, Reckless Anthology, romance, Sale, Sexy | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Excerpt:Mastering Hanna by Anna Lund – Natasha Moore

Hanna does not hesitate in her duty to protect her princess when they are captured by slave traders. Despite fighting for her freedom, she is overcome and finds herself bound and chained on a spaceship headed for the sex planet Noria, fated to become sex slave to the king.

A mercenary for hire, her sexy, dominant captor Jarrod’s job is to deliver her to the king – and to keep his hands off her. But soon the pull of desire to both rescue and enslave her is as powerful as the chains that bind Hanna. Although their passion is forbidden, he can’t resist showing her the erotic ways of master and slave, pain and pleasure, spankings and strict obedience.

Hanna vows to find a way to make the best of her new situation, but when she falls for Jarrod, how could any other master ever be enough? And now that Jarrod is as much a captive to the feisty Hanna as she is to him, he knows he has to find a way to break her free.



He walked around her, determined to put off touching her for as long as possible, since that seemed to be what she craved. Unfortunately, he yearned to touch her just as much. When he stood behind her, the pale globes of her ass called to him. He reached out with a flat hand and slapped her hard on the cheek of her ass.

She yelped and jumped, twisting around to look at him. He grasped her shoulders and turned her back around, facing away from him. “Stand still. Keep your shoulders straight.” He slapped the other cheek. “And no talking.”

He got into a rhythm then, using his hand to spank her over and over again. If he’d had rope to tie her arms, he could have used the belt on her ass. As it was, his hand began to sting, but that was just as well. It was a reminder to him that this was her first time and he didn’t want to hurt her. Not too much.

He alternated soft strokes and hard strikes, keeping her off balance, so she never knew which would be next. Her whimpers gradually changed to soft moans, but when she pushed her ass into his hand, he knew she was enjoying this as much as he was. Her skin turned an attractive red and the sight inflamed his desire even more.

As soon as both cheeks were glowing and warm to the touch, he stopped spanking. He stepped back and enjoyed the sight. Her moan of disappointment made him grin. When he noticed her squirming beneath his gaze, he quickly kicked her bare feet apart.

“No. You are not allowed to pleasure yourself in any way. That is your Master’s responsibility. If he wants to allow it. If you deserve to receive pleasure.” He circled around to face her again. “Remember, your only responsibility is to please your Master.”

He could tell she was aching to speak, but kept her tongue. A deep breath, which made her breasts pop out even further, was all that betrayed her frustration. He was glad he didn’t have to gag her. He had plans for that mouth.

He released his cock from his pants and began to stroke the throbbing flesh. Her gaze zeroed in on his fist as he slid his hand up and down the rigid shaft. Her eyes widened. He wondered if she’d even seen a cock before. A sharp twinge of guilt for taking her innocence twisted in his chest. He reminded himself that he was a trainer, not really her Master. He’d merely be the first of many. She’d be servicing cocks for the rest of her life.

The painful twist didn’t go away, but the rising pressure from his hand on his cock finally overrode it. He let the princess watch a little longer, to get the idea of what she’d be required to do. Spikes of need shot through him and he abruptly released his cock. Enough of this.

Jarrod roughly pressed down on her shoulders with both hands. “On your knees, slave.”

The princess dropped to her knees. Her shoulders were hunched forward, her arms still tightly pulled together from elbow to wrist, pointing straight down. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on those overflowing breasts, but he was going to put her mouth to work first.

“Open, slave,” he growled and tapped her cheek with his rigid cock. She parted her lips wide and he slid into her hot mouth. Incredible. He plunged in as far as he could go, until he touched the back of her throat and she gagged. He let up a little, but kept himself firmly set in her mouth.

“Look at me.” She raised her eyes to him and the sight she made, on her knees with her mouth full of his cock, nearly made him come right then and there. “Have you ever done this before, slave?”

She shook her head slightly and Jarrod felt the pull on his cock. “Your Master will want you to take him as deep as you can. You’ll get used to it. For now do your best.”

She nodded and began to move over his cock, sliding her wet lips over his skin. Gods, it was amazing, the sensations that swept across his body. He threaded his fingers through her silky hair and held onto her head, guiding her rhythm, plunging a little deeper with each thrust.

The pressure started building too fast. Jarrod pulled all the way out before he was too close to stop. He wasn’t ready to come yet. He planned to enjoy this slave in many other ways before he was done.

Find Mastering Hanna here:
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Natasha Moore

Anna Lund

Categories: 69 Shade Of Smut, erotic, Excerpt, sci fi romance | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Fun of Fantasies

We all have them–whether they exist only in our nighttime dreams or in more conscious places, where we can access them easier. (If you live in Southern California like me, that easy access comes in handy during rush hour on the 405 Freeway!)

Naughty fantasies.

Aren’t they the BEST?august20152

If you’ve stopped by this page, there’s a good chance that you’re aware of a few of yours–perhaps more than a few. And why not? What inspires yours? A certain kind of music? A special scent? A certain genre of TV show or film? C’mon…it’s only us in here…let’s share!

While you’re pondering, I’ll reveal a fun tidbit about one of the sexiest scenes in NO MAGIC MOMENT–my new collaboration with the amazing Victoria Blue, to be released on September 7th. The entire seed for the scene actually came from a photo that Victoria saw and shared with me, making us both swoon with the possibilities of writing a very steamy “Hot for Teacher” exchange between Michael Pearson and Margaux Asher. While we can’t wait for you all to read the scene in its entirety when the book is released, what about a sneak-peek tidbit?

Margauxs daydream

I gasped and worried my lips together. “No! Please, Headmaster. I promise, I promise I’ll be good.”

“That’s what you said last time, young lady.”

“But I mean it this time. I do. Really.”

“So tell me, why were you sent to my office? Exactly?” He eyed me carefully. I picked up the vibe instantly. He played along while trying to understand what I wanted out of all this. While we’d talked about the fantasy, we hadn’t exactly discussed a line-by-line. Really, I could never let this man go. He was clever enough and brave enough to go toe-to-toe with me on every level.

I blew another bubble for dramatic effect. Michael sighed, giving it equal weight. “Give me the gum, Miss Asher. You know it’s against school policy, and it’s very unladylike to be chewing like a cow in front of me.”

I slid another glance up at him. “You gonna make me?”

He walked back to the counter, grabbed a tissue from the box there, then paced back over to hold it in front of my face.

“Spit it out.”


“Do not defy me. It will only make things worse for you. It’s a disgusting habit anyway.” He pressed his other hand against the side of my face. “There are much better uses for that pretty little mouth.”

I lifted my stare up to him, eyes as wide as I could make them while depositing the gum into the waiting tissue. That certainly didn’t give him the victory. I purposely left a long trail of saliva from the gum to my mouth, letting the edges of my lips turn up when Michael answered with a rumble of arousal. Our eyes met as he wadded the tissue around the gum. His gaze had gone dark as caramel. This new game, allowing us to be a combination of our real and pretend selves, was turning him on as deeply as me.

“That’s better.” He dropped the tissue into the wastebasket then returned to stand in front of me, legs braced like before. The bulge in his slacks was very visible…and very mouth-watering.

I licked my lips. I couldn’t help it.

“Eyes up here, Miss Asher.”

I raised my face, hitting him hard with my pout. “Yes, Headmaster.”

He was so damn delectable. The power in his exposed forearms. The determination in his set jaw. The arousal in his stare, thickening by the second.

“Do you like seeing the effect you have on your teachers?”

“No, Sir. Not all of them.” I winked again. “Just you.”

He arched a brow. “You think pretty words will get you out of your punishment?”

“Is it working?” I tried batting my lashes, but he lunged his hand back, grabbing me by a pigtail, yanking my head farther back.

You tell me if it’s working.”

I croaked out, “Errrr…no, Sir?” Moisture gushed between my legs. His brutal handling…it was heaven.

“That’s right, young lady. It’s not. So stop playing around. You’re in serious trouble.”

“Yes, Sir. Very, very serious.” With my head cranked back, I had nowhere to look but at his furious, gorgeous face. Holy shit, what he did to me, looming over me like this. His lips formed into a hard, sensual line. The depths of his eyes glowed with mischief and promise.

It was so much.

Almost too much.

No_More_MagicFINAL_THUMBNO MAGIC MOMENT is available for pre-order now!


Enter the Pre-Order Drive Giveaway BY CLICKING HERE

Categories: Books, Characters, erotic, New Release | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Playing for Real by Natasha Moore

Paolo Mancini is one of my favorite heroes. I mean, who doesn’t love a charming guy with a sexy Italian accent? Paolo is a dominant who craves a “real” D/s relationship, not only one that happen in sex clubs like his Playhouse. How can he help the new woman in his life to push out of her comfort zone without pushing her away for good? It was fun to write a vulnerable, dominant guy. I think so often we think of those strong, alphas as confident and all-in-the-know, when they’re not as in control of their emotions as they would like.

Playing for Real is book #5 in the Paolo’s Playhouse series. I’ll share an excerpt with you.

Paolo Mancini’s needs are simple: a committed relationship with a submissive who will let him love and care for her. But after a long, heartbreaking string of relationship failures, he’s beginning to think the perfect woman for him simply doesn’t exist.

When Julianne Barnes steps into his playhouse for one night of bondage sex, she blows him away with her beauty, sass and bravery. She could be the one…if she will allow him to show her how to weave bondage and submission into her life. And hopefully, into his.

Julianne keeps her craving for soft ropes, dark blindfolds, and strong fingers apart from “real life”, where this successful businesswoman doesn’t need anyone telling her what to do. Yet Paolo’s lyrical, steel-under-silk voice affects her body in ways that make her want to offer up her soul.

Slowly, delicately, Paolo tantalizes her closer to the idea that fantasy and reality can live as one. But to convince her it’s safe to open the last compartment protecting her emotions, he’ll have to expose his greatest vulnerability. His heart.

Warning: Features a petulant sub looking to live out her fantasies and a sexy Dom looking for love of the forever kind. Contains an intense sex-with-a-stranger fantasy, ropes, chains and a spanking. Or two. Or more.


Paolo knew his aftercare. He gathered Julianne in his arms and held her for a while to give her a chance to catch her breath and come down. In all honesty, he needed some time for his racing heartbeat to get back to normal as well. Her silky hair brushed his face when she buried her face in the crook of his neck. The sweet scent of her desire surrounded him, invaded his senses and kicked up his own arousal. As she snuggled against him, her bottom was a tempting weight on his groin.

Eventually, he groaned and eased her off his lap. Then he got up and brought her back a cup of water. He worked hard to stay outwardly calm and strong as a Dom should, but inside he was shaking. He needed some time alone to replay what had happened, but he couldn’t do it until he brought her back to her place safely.

“I will help you dress.”

She looked up at him, her gaze still a little glassy, but he knew she was rapidly recovering from her dive into sub space. “What?”

Instead of answering, he crossed the room, picked up her clothes and shoes and brought them over to her. “Let me help you.”

She gripped the white cup on her hands. “I don’t understand. We’re done?”

The man in him wanted to gather her in his arms and keep her there all night long. The dominant knew better. “Yes,” he said, keeping his voice low, steady. “We are done for tonight.”

Julianne set the cup down on the floor by her feet. “But what about you?”

He sat down on the cushion beside her. “Julianne, every session will not include sexual intercourse. Tonight I wanted you to get used to the feel of the chains and my hands on your body. And to allow me to learn your responses and your needs.”

“Well, I need to take care of this for you.” She placed her hand over his rock hard erection. “We don’t have to fuck. I can…”

He grasped her wrist, wrapped his fingers tightly around it, stopping her before he actually gave in to temptation and let her fall to her knees and take care of his aching need. “I am in charge here, or have you forgotten?”

“No, sir.”

He felt a small burst of pride at the way she lowered her eyes and let her fingers go limp. Paolo lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “Thank you for your desire to obey me, even when you may not understand why. That pleases me more than you know.”

He could tell she was uneasy. His biggest struggle was going to be to train her to submit without thinking it to death. To obey without hesitation. To respond without worrying why.

The ironic part was that she had been getting there tonight. Losing that control she so desperately wanted to cling to with both hands.

But he’d lost control too. Forgot all about what he was supposed to be teaching her. Forgot about everything but the softness of her skin and the sound of her sighs. He thought of nothing but the sweet way she responded to his touch, the possessiveness that crawled inside him. The primitive instinct to claim her as his.

Nothing else had mattered.

Playing for Real is available now. And if you want to catch up on the first 4 stories (all stories are stand-alone):
Flaunt It #1
Risk It #2
Birthday Girl #3
Plaything #4


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She was BOUND TO SURRENDER by Natasha Moore

Recently I re-released one of my favorite erotic romance novellas. Bound to Surrender was originally published as Smoke and Mirrors and I thought I’d share a couple great reviews this story got back then. And then give you a little taste of it today with a hot excerpt.

Love is nothing but an illusion. Heiress Gabriella Winslow learned that lesson years ago when her magician boyfriend abandoned her, sick and alone, hundreds of miles from home. In the years that followed, she’s tried to forget him and the erotic bondage games they used to play. But the life she’s made for herself since then still leaves her restless and yearning for something more.

Now a successful illusionist, Alexander Black has returned to settle an old score. And to seduce Gabriella. With a blindfold and handcuffs and blood red roses, he entices his former lover and magician’s assistant back to his Las Vegas penthouse. If all goes according to plan, she’ll surrender to him before she discovers everything isn’t as it seems.


“…Ms. Moore creates scenes that are as spine-tinglingly erotic as they are romantic, and I definitely felt the heat level rise in the room as I read. I Joyfully Recommend Smoke and Mirrors. It’s an enchanting, entertaining reunion romance filled with lust, love, and inventive uses for scarves. Simply magic!”
— Shayna, Joyfully Reviewed

“…Smoke and Mirrors is an erotic foray into obsession, bondage and exhibitionism. The setting, a limo and a magician’s lair, along and the rags-to-riches premise are interesting backdrops for this quick erotic adventure.”
— Vee, Night Owl Reviews


She shifted in her seat again, this time because her shoulders were getting stiff. Where were they going anyway? She had no way of knowing the time, but her internal clock told her they’d been driving longer than necessary to get to anywhere Aaron would want to take her in the L.A. area. A ripple of panic wormed its way under her skin.

What did she really know about him? He worked closely with her father and that meant he trusted Aaron. She knew he liked Italian food, action movies and the missionary position. Or so she thought. If he guessed she liked to be tied up, maybe he thought she liked to be hurt too. Maybe he thought she liked to be scared.

She’d never been into pain. She certainly didn’t like being afraid. She just enjoyed the feeling of being tied. Of letting go. Allowing the anticipation to build always made her super hot, super aroused. When she was bound, she had to let someone else, for a little while, take care of her needs.

Gaby threw her head from side to side, wanting desperately to see where she was. She didn’t like being scared. She’d always trusted Alex and he’d never hurt her. Unless you counted her heart.

But whose control was she under right now? That Foster had seemed like a nice guy, but he was under orders from Aaron. Or was he? Was it possible his orders were coming from someone else? While she got all aroused by the blindfold and the cuffs, was the actual intent to stop her from escaping? She gasped.

Her father had been worried about her this afternoon and she’d just blown him off. Had there been a real reason he’d been afraid for her? It would be so like him to keep a threat from her.

Was it possible after all these years, after all the reminders that she was the lone heir to the Winslow fortune and had to be careful, could she have cheerfully stepped right into a trap?

A tiny whimper escaped her lips. Her heart slammed into her chest. She struggled against her bindings, even though she knew it was useless. She whipped her head around, rubbing it against the back of the seat, trying desperately to loosen the blindfold. Her shoulders ached as she tried desperately to pull her hands free from the cuffs. Panic shot through her system and she bounced on the seat, her frustration overwhelming her.

As she twisted in her seat, she lost her balance and flopped over on her side. She cried out in frustration and slid off the seat onto the floor of the limo. She rested her head on the seat for a moment, her breath coming in ragged gasps. It was useless. All the struggling had gotten her was sore wrists and sweaty skin.

She took a deep, shaky breath and pushed herself back onto the soft leather seat. Okay, so there was nothing she could do right now. She’d just have to keep her wits about her. Conserve her strength. Be ready for any development. She could tell her skirt had ridden up around her hips, but she had no way to tug it back down. Her kidnapper would have a close up view of her black lace panties when he opened the door.

She felt a sudden change in the air, now charged with tension. The air seemed to move in the darkness around her. When she felt the seat beside her shift, panic scrambled in the stomach. She screamed and lunged away.

A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her against a hard, hot body. At the same time, a long-fingered hand slapped over her mouth. The hand and the familiar, musky scent of arousal identified her assailant as surely as if she didn’t have the blindfold on.


“I always did enjoy watching you struggle,” he said, his lips brushing her ear. His deep voice rumbled through her body. She growled and he snatched his hand away from her mouth as if he could tell she was about to chomp into his flesh.

“You bastard!” She tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast against him.

“Gabriella. Gabriella,” he admonished. “Such words coming out of that refined mouth.”

“Fuck you!”

His chuckle was deep and dark. “Oh no. That’s your job.”

An image of her riding his thick cock, cries of passion ringing in the air, popped into her mind. “In your dreams,” she snapped, and hoped he didn’t hear the slight tremor in her voice.

His lips brushed her cheek. “You have no idea how often you haunt my dreams.”

She was shocked he’d make an admission like that. She wished she could see him, wished she could read the expression on that handsome face. But then, he’d always been good at hiding what he was thinking, so what good would it do? “Why are you doing this, Alex?”

He eased away from her slightly and ran his hand along her bare arm. Shivers followed his fingers along her skin. “I remember your fondness for certain illusions. The cuffs, the blindfold, the scarves.” He paused. “The cage.”

“I never liked the cage.”

He cupped her chin. “Of course you did.” He slid his fingers along her throat, stroking her from chin to chest. “Anticipation, princess. Nothing’s sweeter than anticipation.”

He dropped his fingers and skimmed them across the neckline of her dress, tracing the swells of her breasts. Shivers she hadn’t felt in years ran across her skin. While she knew she shouldn’t be thrilled to feel his hands on her now, she’d dreamed of this night too often to put up a fight.

Oh how well she remembered the expert touch of his fingers along her skin. He could always conjure up the sweetest sensations in her body. Like always, her pulse began to race. Moisture soaked her panties and trickled down her thigh.

He dove his hand beneath the neckline of her dress and cupped one of her breasts. She gasped as he squeezed her flesh and scraped his thumbnail across her sensitive nipple, just as she’d imagined a moment ago. “Ah yes. The one part of you I prefer unbound.”

Gaby dropped her head back onto the seat. The music wove through the air around them. The sensations had never been this strong. Ever.

Alex’s lips slid along her throat, smooth and wet. She moaned and yearned to wrap her arms around him, clasp him to her…

Or better yet, push him away.

But she couldn’t do anything but gasp when he nipped her skin with his teeth. “That’s my girl,” he murmured just loud enough to be heard over the music. “It’s been too long since I’ve had my mouth on you.”

He tugged the shoulders of the dress down, freeing her breasts and binding her arms even tighter. Then he crushed his lips to hers. The smooth, familiar taste of Alex burst upon her tongue and sent flames roaring through her body. Her mind may know the reasons she should resist him, but her body remembered all the reasons why she shouldn’t.

You can download Bound to Surrender now:


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Finding the sexy in Santa…

So, as I was thinking about what I wanted to post for my 69 Shades fun this month, my thoughts obviously turned toward holiday-style cheer. Though I am going to openly admit that Halloween is my favorite holiday, I can get down and jive with Yuletide cheer as much as anyone. I’ve been collecting ornaments for my tree since I was 17. (Just so you know, that’s a long damn time.) I am adamant that the outside lights look kick-ass. And some of the best memories of my life, period, are those of baking holiday cookies and treats with my little one, who rocks the center of my existence.

santatacky2But…sexy? I’m sorry, to be quite honest, Christmas has always been a lot of things to me…just not sexy. Homey? Sure. Cozy? Thumbs up. But I just couldn’t get the gumption up to figure out the sexy part. Two words, okay? Tacky sweaters. I really never even got the allure of mistletoe. Every time I got caught under it with a guy in high school, I wasn’t satisfied with the stupid little pecks on the cheeks. I wanted more, dammit…mooorrre!

I was forced out of my comfort zone by landing a book contract with Loose-Id Publications in the Summer of 2012. They issued a challenge to their writers to write a book that included two holidays occurring between October and February. BOTH holidays had to be in the book. I was so intrigued by this idea that I knew I had to give it a try–and I also knew I wanted the first holiday in the book to be Veterans Day, in November. My editor suggested making it a holiday book. *GULP*. That gave me just 6 weeks to heat things up FAST between my hero, billionaire Dante Tieri, and his feisty JAG officer, Celina Kouris.

Needless to say, I had to start changing my mind fast about the sexy quotient of Christmas. Lo and behold, that book, STAR OF WONDER, was one of my favorite writing experiences to date.

danteandcelinaweddingHere’s a little taste of the yum factor between dark, swarthy, gorgeous Dante and his sexy, sassy Celina. Hope you enjoy and will give STAR OF WONDER a try, if you’re in the mood for some fun holiday sexiness!

“I take it you still want to stay, stellina?” He grazed her neck with his teeth, then laved the abrasion with his tongue. Her fervent nod clutched at his chest and filled his soul. It was more than enough for now. Forcing her to form words wasn’t the goal this moment. Forcing her to see a new side of herself, a terrifying discovery in herself—that was the plan and the much harder mission. Merda, he’d spearheaded multimillion-dollar mergers with more confidence than his next step.

Luckily, Mark had walked him through a few key points. His friend’s words resonated in his mind. Listen to what her body tells you. Follow that with what your gut says.

The trouble was, his gut didn’t do the talking right now. The last time he’d endured a more painful erection, he’d been fifteen. Celina’s urgent little hip rolls helped as much as tinfoil in a lightning storm. He clenched his jaw and reset his legs, setting them just inside hers. He put them there to support hers…or at least that was the bullshit he was going with the moment.

Go with his gut. Right, his gut. It was around here somewhere. He hoped.

“What else do you want?” The words felt good. And they did generate from his gut, though this part of his instinct wasn’t so familiar to him. It had only been awakened in full force on Friday, then taken out to examine in curious little chunks throughout the week. Mark had given him a name for it. His hidden Dom. He’d winced when his friend first slapped the term on him, but he now realized the label was fucking perfect. He liked this part of him. And he loved what it did to the woman in his arms.AP_StarOfWonder_coverlg (2)

“What else do you want, cara?” He ground even more command into the repetition, reveling in her deep shiver of reaction. “Do you want more of this?” He gripped her breasts fully, twisting the luscious skin, making her cry out. The sound ripped through him with primal force. “Do you like what the pain does to you?” He bit into her earlobe. “Do you like where it sends your mind, your body?”

She let out a louder shriek as he gave her mounds a pair of light swats. When he thumbed her nipples again, they were hot and pulsing.

“Yes,” he whispered. “You do want it, don’t you?”

Buy STAR OF WONDER: Amazon   B&N   Kobo   Apple iBooks   All Romance eBooks

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How easy is it to please your dom?

I love to use acronyms when referring to my books. And for Pleasing Mr. Sutton, that acronym is PMS. That always amuses me. And one does have to amuse oneself regularly.

 photo PleasingMrSuttonRed_300_zps0d321325.jpgThanks to Rae Monet for this fabulous cover. I love, love, love it! And for your reading pleasure, Pleasing Mr. Sutton is live! Book 5 in the West Coast series features Rance Sutton and Monica Dawson. You met them both in The Other Man, West Coast, Book 4. Ward and Spence bandy about the idea that the statuesque Miss Dawson is actually Mr. Sutton’s sex slave. Well, here’s the real story!

He has only one rule. She will do everything he says exactly when he tells her to do it.

Chairman of the board Rance Sutton is looking for a new playmate, an untried submissive he can train to do things his wicked way.

Miss Dawson, the chairman’s personal secretary, wants to get a lot more personal. What better way than becoming his new submissive? After all, she already does everything his way. So really, what’s a little spanking, flogging, handcuffing, and blindfolding if the payoff is Mr. Sutton in her bed? And that’s something she’s dreamed about for the entire five years she’s worked for him.

The problem? This will be no love affair. He will be her master. And she will be his slave. Miss Dawson’s desires aren’t part of the bargain; everything will be about pleasing Mr. Sutton…

Here’s an excerpt.

Pleasing Mr. Sutton

Copyright 2014 Jasmine Haynes

Chapter Two

“I have the perfect candidate for the new position.” Monica placed the resume on his big desk and slid it across to him. She’d given herself an hour to prepare before presenting it. That hour had also given Mr. Sutton a chance to enjoy his first cup of coffee, a special blend she brewed him. He’d be mellower now.

“That was fast work.” He remained seated while she stood before him. It seemed submissive, like the teenage girl who’s forced to stand before the headmaster.

“The choice ended up being quite easy.” She laced her fingers behind her back. Again there was a submissive feel to the gesture. She’d dressed for him. Her blouse was teal, sheer with a lacy camisole beneath, which she’d paired with a cream skirt that hugged her behind, but dropped tastefully to below the knees. She felt sexy but tailored, classy but inviting.

“Commendable work,” he said, picking up the resume.

Her tension began to rise as he read. She’d addressed every bullet point on his list. She was intrigued by the lifestyle, she’d never dabbled, she wanted him to teach her, she was willing to accept pain to receive pleasure, she needed his punishment, and so on. His eyes flicked back and forth across the page, but not another muscle twitched. Until finally he laid the single sheet of paper back on the expensively tooled leather top of his desk.

“You already have a job, Miss Dawson.”

She willed her cheeks not to flame. “Yes. But as I assume this new position”—she flexed the word, adding a sexual spin—“will be extracurricular, I believe I can carry out both functions to your complete satisfaction.”

He watched her unblinkingly, and the temperature in the office began to rise. A flush started inside, rushing out to her skin. He had to notice the scarlet blaze.

“I have no doubt about your abilities, but it’s never good to mix business and pleasure. We have a professional relationship. Making you my submissive would violate that.”

A kernel of ice expanded in her chest. He was turning her down.

“This is not the kind of thing you can turn on and off, Miss Dawson. I think it’s best—”

She couldn’t let him reject her. “A lot of people might consider that asking me to buy sex toys for you is violating our business relationship.”

“You are my personal secretary. I never asked you to demonstrate the devices for me.”

“In a corporate environment, the CEO doesn’t ask his secretary to search for submissive playmates.” She’d been about to cite Holt Montgomery, CEO of West Coast Manufacturing, as an example, but he was marrying his secretary next month, so that comparison might fall short.

“I mentioned when I hired you that some of the tasks I gave you would be of a more personal nature.” His face was implacable. Unreadable. Mr. Sutton could be a hard man when he chose. Last night’s bravado was starting to fade.

But if she backed down now, there would never be another chance. Just the fact that she’d asked had changed their working relationship. How would she get over the embarrassment, let alone the rejection? She’d made the choice, now she had to convince him.

“There are advantages you might not have thought of,” she told him. “Except when you have meetings or when we’re traveling”—she accompanied him and took care of the details—“we’re alone in this suite all day.” She flourished a hand to encompass his office, her smaller accommodations outside, and the conference room. “You must have thought about having a submissive you can command during the day.” She lowered her voice. “Make her do anything. Right here.” She lovingly stroked the desk’s leather top. “Or over there.” She pointed to the sofa.

She imagined herself splayed out on that genteel couch. Or facedown on his desk while he did all those mysterious dominant things to her. “Anything,” she said softly. “Anywhere.”

His nostrils flared slightly, the first indication of an emotion. “Miss Dawson.”

She wouldn’t let him stop her. “Every time you send me out to buy one of those devices”—she drew out the word for effect—“I’m dying to know exactly what you do with them.” She moistened her lips. “How it would feel.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple gliding slowly along his throat. “Miss Dawson.” It was all he seemed capable of saying.

How far could she go? She’d waited a long time for this opportunity. She’d go to great lengths to make it happen.

So she told him the truth, in a soft sexual purr meant for the bedroom. “And every time it makes me wet.”

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt of Pleasing Mr. Sutton. You can read another excerpt on my website. You can find Pleasing Mr. Sutton at Kindle Kindle UK Kindle AU Kindle CA Nook iBooks iBooks UK iBooks AU iBooks CA. By tomorrow, I hope to have the book up at Smashwords, Kobo, All Romance, and Coffee Time as well.

Pleasing Mr. Sutton is a stand-alone story, but if you haven’t tried the series yet, look for Revenge, West Coast Book 1: iBooks iBooks UK iBooks AU Kindle Kindle UK Nook Nook UK Kobo All Romance Smashwords Coffee Time Romance. You can learn all about the West Coast series on my website: I’m going to have Revenge up for free by Sept 1. I can’t guarantee on the timing for Amazon, but I’ll do my best.


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Game for Love series!

Have you heard  photo NotintheGameKW300_zps750d583a.jpgof Kindle Worlds? You can read more about it here, plus see all the worlds that are available for you to write in and to read about! Okay, so Kindle Worlds is this very cool concept where we get to write stories set in the worlds of fabulous authors like Bella Andre, Lucy Kevin, Barbara Freethy, and more. Think of it as fan fiction! For instance, Bella Andre has opened up the world of her bad boys of football. If you haven’t read any of her football books, try Game for Love, upon which the Kindle World is set. This is the world I’ve written in. Bella’s “world” launched a little over a week ago, and my story, Not in the Game, is now available! Thanks so much to Bella Andre for asking me to be part of her launch!! And thanks to Rae Monet for the fabulous cover! You can also try Game On by Cat Johnson and Jami Davenport’s Game for You. As part of Lucy Kevin’s Four Weddings and a Fiasco world, you can try The Wedding Date by Katy Regnery. And don’t miss Barbara Freethy’s The Callaways with It’s Only Love by Carol Grace! These worlds have all different levels of sensuality from sweet to erotic. If anyone has questions about Kindle Worlds, reading the books, or writing for them, please fire away!

Here’s a blurb for Not in the Game to whet your appetite!

Are there second chances in the game for love?

Mark Benedict had a major thing going for Carolina Hutchins years ago. But that was high school, she’d been four years older than him, and she hadn’t even known he was alive. At least that’s what he thought.

Now he’s found her again. And this time he’s a game-winning running back with a Super Bowl ring and a hell of lot more to offer. Only problem, she’s on the rebound from a bad divorce and thinks all men are like her ex-husband.

Can he convince this gorgeous woman to take a second chance with him? Or, despite the attraction that flares between them, is letting another man into her life for more than a night simply not in the game?

Oh, and before I give you an excerpt, here’s a heads up that Take Your Pleasure, my sexy little spanking and sort-of-menage story, is free right now! Kindle Kindle UK Nook iBooks iBooks AU iBooks UK ARe Kobo Smashwords

And now the excerpt!

Game for Love: Not in the Game (Kindle Worlds Novella)

Jasmine Haynes Copyright 2014

Chapter One


“You want to jump out of the cake at the bachelor party? You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not.” Carolina Hutchins had never been more serious in her life. One week from tonight, she wanted to take Deidre’s place and jump out of that cake.

“But…” Deidre looked her up and down. “You’re thirty-eight years old.”

The rest of the sentiment was implied rather than stated. And Carolina’s pretty roommate was right. Men didn’t pay to see a thirty-eight-year-old woman dance her way out of a cake. They wanted nubile young things like Deidre Morrow, petite, blond, buxom, with a tiny waist the span of a big man’s hands, and the tender age of twenty-five. Carolina was her opposite, tall, brunette, slender. And thirteen years older.

“Not that you’re not hot and all for an—” Deidre cut herself off.

“For an old lady,” Carolina finished

Deidre tssked. “You’re not old.”

“Just pre-menopausal,” Carolina supplied instead.

As two single women at nine o’clock on a foggy Friday night in April, they should have been on dates. Instead, they were seated on their flower-print couch in the San Francisco apartment they’d shared for almost a year, and consuming a bottle of wine. It wasn’t expensive chardonnay, but not out of a box either. Their dateless state was by choice.

Deidre worked by day as an accounts payable clerk at a San Francisco corporation, took college courses at night, and burst out of cakes on weekends. Or played cop, nurse, dominatrix, whatever the boss of her adult party entertainment company wanted her to play. She was too busy to date. Carolina worked as an accounts receivable clerk at the same company—where they’d met and decided to become roommates—and hadn’t dated since her divorce two years ago.

“Don’t talk down about yourself,” Deidre chided.

Carolina had to laugh; she was supposed to be wiser. But Deidre was an old soul. She was working on a degree in business and had decided she’d be a CEO of a Fortune 500 company by the time she was forty. Carolina was sure she’d accomplish that goal.

“I’m not talking down,” she said. “I’m stating a fact.”

Deidre made a face, which, on her, was just another pretty aspect. “I don’t get why you’d want to pop out of a cake for an entire football team. They could be a rough audience.”

“I want to meet Mark Benedict.” He was the best man for his teammate Rich Moon, who played center, and had arranged for Deidre to appear at the party.

“Ooh. Mark Benedict. One of the NFL’s most eligible bachelors. I love blond-haired, blue-eyed hunks.” Deidre studied her a moment. “There are probably easier ways to meet him.”

“I’d never get a chance to even be in the same room with him.” A running back for the San Francisco Outlaws, he was way out of her current league. As one of the higher-paid players, with numerous advertising contracts and a Super Bowl ring, he had any number of gorgeous young women willing to fawn all over him.

“So what’s the big deal about him? After what your husband did to you, I’d think you’d run a mile from any filthy-rich, good-time playboy type.”

Her ex-husband. Carolina had to admit she was still bitter. After thirteen years of marriage, Pete had found a prettier and younger trophy wife. And because of the prenuptial Carolina had signed—to prove she was marrying for love, not money—she got nothing. He’d cheated on her, and she was rewarded with exactly zilch. Not even the car she drove or the clothes and jewelry he’d bought her. Turned out everything was in his name. If they’d had kids—Pete had two boys by his first wife and said he was too old to want babies again—he’d have stolen them, too, she was sure. She’d been such a starstruck idiot. She’d thrown away her college education and given up her brand new accounting career. By the time she went back to get a job, she wasn’t even in the game anymore. In fact, it seemed a metaphor for her whole life. Not in the game. She was a clerk when she should have been controller by now, or even VP of Finance. Instead, she was taking refresher courses at the community college and starting at the bottom again.

“I’m not interesting in dating Mark Benedict.” She was done with dating, let alone relationships, for a very long time. “But anyway, he’s different.”

Deidre tipped her head and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you know him.”

“I did, a long time ago.”

“Hmm.” Deidre chewed the inside of her lip, pondering. “Well, you couldn’t have gone to high school with him because he’s only thirty-four.”

“He went to school with my brother.”

“Your brother?” Deidre emphasized.

Carolina poured another half glass of wine for each of them. Her brother was a software engineer in Silicon Valley. “Yeah. Lowell got in with a bad crowd when he started high school, and it was Mark who helped him turn his life around.” She shuddered. “I’d hate to think what he would have become. Mark introduced him to football. The game gave Lowell purpose. He didn’t turn out to be one of the greats like Mark is, but he’s got a good life, and I’m proud of him.” She’d always been grateful that Mark had stepped in to provide the guidance Lowell needed. As his big sister, that should have been her job, but she’d been away at university when it was all going on. At least that was her excuse.

“So you just want to thank good old Mark for what he did for your brother by entertaining him at his buddy’s bachelor party?”

Carolina shrugged. “It would be interesting to see him again.”

“Doesn’t your brother talk to him? After all, they were friends.”

“They didn’t keep in touch.”

Deidre leaned forward to tap Carolina’s temple. “Something’s going on up there. I don’t know what. But you’ve got an awful lot of excuses for why you have to do it this way.”

“It was just a spur of the moment thought when you said you were performing at the bachelor party he’s holding for his friend.”

Deidre snorted. “You’ve never done anything like this in your life. And I don’t even think you approve of what I do.”

“That’s not true at all.” Deidre’s performances didn’t go beyond stripping down to a bikini bathing suit. And she didn’t do lap dances. She danced sexy, yes, but that was all. “I think it’s great that you’re working so hard to put yourself through school.”

Deidre gave her a press-lipped, knowing smile. “You better tell me what’s really going on or I’m not letting you do it.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you. I was attracted to him back then, okay. But he was in high school and I was in college. And it’s not like I could even think about telling anyone how I felt, let alone date him. And I just want to know now. If there’s still any hint of that attraction.” She raised her hands. “He probably won’t even remember me.” What she’d felt might have been mutual, but she’d never been sure. “And it is a spur of the moment thing. I wouldn’t even have thought of him if you hadn’t told me about the party.” Except that she had watched all the Outlaws’ games, and she knew Mark’s stats.

Maybe a bit of it was also curiosity as to whether fame and fortune had turned Mark into the kind of man her ex-husband had been. Pete had used people for what he could gain from them, then discarded them like empty husks.

Deidre waggled her eyebrows. “So the ice queen is interested in a man.”

Carolina didn’t flinch at the title. Deidre was actually poking fun at Pete, who’d called her an ice queen, stating that his cheating was her fault because she was frigid. He’d been the consummate liar. He probably had to use Viagra to entice the new trophy wife. And he’d throw her away when she reached a mature age as well. Carolina actually felt sorry for her.

“Okay, yes, I’m interested,” Carolina agreed. “So help me out.”

Deidre pursed her lips, then finally smiled until laughter spread across her face. “All right. But we’re going to wow you up, lots of makeup, really big hair.” She fluffed Carolina’s straight brunette locks that flowed over her shoulders. “I’m thinking hair like Peggy from Married with Children. Stand up.” She waved her hands.

Married with Children? Good God. Carolina rose. In sweat pants and a T-shirt, she didn’t look like anyone’s version of Wow.

Deidre stroked her chin, considering, then clapped her hands. “I’ve got it. Black corset, leather pants, and five-inch platform boots. You’re going to be a dominatrix. Snap your flogger around a little, maybe give the groom a good spanking.”

Spank the groom? Carolina hadn’t thought of the act she’d be required to put on. She’d only imagined the look on Mark Benedict’s face when—if—he recognized. And if he didn’t, she’d at least be able to observe the kind of man he’d turned into. That would certainly be no hardship on the eyes.

“A dominatrix? Is that what he asked for?”

Deidre shrugged. “He wasn’t specific. Just wanted some girl to dance around and entertain.”

“I don’t think a dominatrix would jump out of a cake. That’s not their style.”

“This is fantasy,” Deidre scoffed. “We can have our dominatrix do anything we want.”

This could actually be terrifying. Her? In a corset and leather pants? “I don’t own anything a dominatrix would wear.”

Deidre batted her eyelashes. “That’s why we’re going shopping.”

Oh God, she was in for it now. Yet despite the momentary terror, there was a certain appeal to the idea. What would Pete have done if, instead of being his doormat, she’d brought out a whip years ago? What if she’d taken charge and shown him what a real woman was capable of? The thought had possibilities.

“The dominatrix is growing on me.” She could take out her aggressions. Not that she’d actually cause pain. But lording it over a bunch of men, oh yeah, definitely appealing.

“I can’t wait to see you all decked out.” Deidre rubbed her hands together with glee as she made her plans. “Those guys are going to eat you up.”

Not if Carolina ate them up first.


You can read another excerpt on my blog! Here’s where you can find Not in the Game:

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

Hot Excerpt for a Hot Summer Day

It’s already 84 degrees in the shade at 10 am. I try not to complain because here in western NY we don’t get all that much hot weather. So…to go with the heat, how about a hot excerpt from one of my favorite (yes, don’t tell my other stories LOL) erotic romances, Silken Canvas.


She stared out at the skyline, the sun glinting off all the windows facing her. “The next session? More pearls?”
She was startled when his hand brushed her shoulder and pulled back on the single strand of pearls still hanging around her neck. “I have many more plans for you.” She froze as the beads tightened around her throat, keenly anticipating the heavy pressure. Then she felt the pull, heard a popping sound and the rope of beads broke apart.
Ashley whirled around and stared at the broken strand of beads in Brendan’s hand. She grabbed it and pulled it apart again. “Pop beads? These are pop beads?”
“Handy,” he said with a grin.
She laughed. “They look so real. I mean, I knew they weren’t real pearls, but I never would have guessed they were pop beads.”
“Time to drop the robe again.” He drew the fabric off her shoulders and she quickly untied the sash so he could strip it from her body.
“How many strands do you think it will take to cover your long, slender neck?” he asked. “Hold up your hair.” She raised her arms and lifted her hair high on her head. Would she ever get over the thrill of feeling exposed and vulnerable in this position?
Brendan ran a heated gaze over her before he wrapped a single strand of beads around her neck, pulling off several pearls at a time, until he closed it around her throat. It rested loosely against her collar bone. “Too loose. That won’t work,” he murmured. He shook his head and took off another bead or two before securing it again.
“That’s a little tight,” Ashley said. The pearls pressed against her throat, right below her larynx.
He cupped her cheek and caught her gaze. It took everything in her not to lean into him. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Not too much.”
“Then we’ll leave it for now. Let me know if it gets too painful.” He wrapped another strand tightly around her neck, riding above the first one. “I want to cover your throat from collar bone to jaw, stacking one strand of beads on top of another. They have to be tight enough to stay in place and not hang down on the one below it, understand?”
“Yeah, I get it.” She kept her hair off her neck and stood straight with her chin raised and tried not to think about the graze of his fingers along her jaw, across her throat. Or the brush of his jean-covered erection against her bottom. Or the promise of some delightful pain in this session.
The next row of beads pressed so tightly against her larynx that she could feel the pressure when she swallowed. Her expression must have changed because Brendan stopped with his hand on her throat. “Is it too much?”
“Not at all.” She swallowed again, then felt her face grow warm as memories overwhelmed her. “It’s not much different than the collars you used to put on me.” Or red ribbons. Or greedy snakes. “I…um…I always liked it when you put the collars on really tight.”
His eyes darkened. “I know.” He gently stroked her throat above the beads. “I’ve always known you liked a little pain with your pleasure. I was always happy to give it to you.”
They’d never really talked before about the way they’d often straddled the line between pain and pleasure. About her need for pain and his answering need to furnish it. It had just gradually become a part of their lives.
“I always liked the way you looked with a collar around your neck.” He ran the strand of pearls he was holding between his fingers. “Especially the ones with an ‘O’ ring in the front, so I could pull you to me when I wanted to do this.”
His lips brushed over hers before she had a chance to prepare for the onslaught of sensations, the burst of emotion. But almost before it started, the kiss was over. He stared at her, his jaw clenched. The strand of pearls in his hands broke.
“Sorry,” he said. It was a few more minutes before he finished collaring her. The multiple strands of beads forced her head high and she couldn’t comfortably lower her chin. “You can let your hair down now.” She dropped her arms and rolled her shoulders a couple times to stretch out the muscles.
Brendan took her hand and led her back over to the black velvet backdrop. “Stand here. I’m going to take some head shots.” He picked up his camera. “No talking now. I want a calm and content expression.” He lifted the camera, blocking his face. “I always loved the way you looked lying in our bed first thing in the morning, your hair spread out on the pillow, gazing at me with a small smile on your face. Yeah, like that.”
No fair to keep reminding her of those good times. She’d always loved the way he’d looked first thing in the morning too, propped up on his elbow, looking down on her with his own small smile.
Brendan took a few more pictures, then stopped and dropped the camera to his side. “That Stuart was a jerk. I can’t believe you hooked up with someone like him.” She opened her mouth to snap a quick retort, but he lifted his hand to stop her. “No talking.” He took another picture.
“I like the way your eyes are flashing now. There are a lot of people who’ll love that look—that flash of temper while you’re collared. They don’t want to dampen that spirit.” He approached her slowly. He was using that seductive tone of voice again and it was working. “How much more exciting to leash that strength, to harness that fire.” He took a few close-ups, his body so close she could hear him breathing. Didn’t he have a zoom on that camera?
As he took more pictures, his scent wound around her. She wanted to close her eyes and inhale him into her lungs, draw him into her pores. But she left her eyes open and saw when he slowly lowered the camera to his side and his gaze moved to her lips. She nervously darted her tongue out, wetting her lips. The memory of that hint of a kiss was fresh in her mind. The urge to lean into him was almost too much to resist.
Brendan gently cupped her face and ran his thumb softly along her bottom lip. He raised his gaze to meet hers and she shivered.
He stepped away. “Where’s your lipstick?”
She held back a sigh. She shouldn’t be disappointed he didn’t kiss her. Shouldn’t expect him to. Shouldn’t want him to. “In the pocket of the robe.”
He nodded. “Stay there.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pick up the robe and fish the lipstick and a hair clip out of the pocket. He set down the camera on top of the soft robe and turned to her, lipstick tube in one hand, hair clip in the other. His gaze scorched her as it ran over her body. He took a deep breath before he walked over to her.
“Hold this,” he said and gave her the lipstick. Then he leaned forward and gathered her hair in his hands. She closed her eyes as his fingers caressed her scalp. His warm chest brushed against her breasts and it made her shiver again. He played with her hair for a moment, dropping the strands and pulling them up again, clipping and unclipping and then clipping them up again until he was obviously satisfied with the way her curls looked piled on top of her head.
“You look so damn sexy,” he said with the charming voice again. He was driving her crazy, never knowing which Brendan was going to be talking to her next. Would it be the driven artist, who saw her as nothing but a piece of canvas? Or the seductive, commanding man who’d made her fall in love with him years ago?
“Give me the lipstick.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she handed him the tube. She wet her lips again as their eyes held. She had to stay strong. Resist temptation. It should be easy. Except that he was so close, she could catch his unique scent. She could feel the heat from his body and from his breath along her cheek. She swallowed hard and felt the press of the beads against her throat.
Ashley parted her lips slightly and he slowly covered them with the deep red color. She closed her eyes. The smooth lipstick felt almost as erotic as the sweep of a tongue. A soft sigh escaped before she could pull it back.
Brendan took a step back and nodded. “Keep your lips parted like that. I like the way that looks.” He shoved the tube of lipstick into the pocket of his jeans and bent over to pick up the camera. She swallowed hard again as she took in the snug way his jeans cupped his butt, the graceful way his long fingers cradled the camera, the smooth way his body moved as he straightened and turned to face her. She’d almost think the admiring expression on his face was for her, but she knew it was only for the image she made.
This was Brendan. Graceful and charming. Dedicated and talented. Creative and sensual. Ambitious and demanding. She knew he didn’t consider the obsessed artist and the seductive charmer as two separate parts of his personality. It was all part of who he was. And the reason he could never give her what she needed.
As long as she remembered that, she could resist him. She had to.

Enjoy the heat 🙂


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

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