Tag Archives: guest blogger

How an English Country Mansion Became the Manor of Decadence by Jennifer Denys

b-w-jd-fullWhen I decided to set my latest series in an English country mansion it was to provide a setting that was secluded for BDSM activities and large enough for lots of visitors. Little did I realise what wonderful double entendres it was going to generate.

For instance, there is a scene where they attend a workshop on cropping and it takes place in the stables (naturally – except there are no horses in sight. The riding crop is used on a submissive).

The heroine and her husband, James, take up the opportunity of a private tutorial in the Master’s study – and he certainly makes it clear what is expected of them.

The following day they find a swing hung from a huge oak tree in a secluded garden. This swing is not intended for children as it has shackles attached – and has a horizontal bed anyway. Once the heroine is in place then a branch from a nearby tree provides a suitable switch to use against Caroline’s exposed butt.

Later on, our twosome and the man who becomes the third in their menage, Mark, watch a branding session in the forge showing how a willing submissive can demonstrate their commitment to their Dominant.

Add to that a ball in the ballroom – where the emphasis is on a certain part of a man’s body. The only music that takes place are the cries of people climaxing.

Paddling in the boathouse where James discovers how to use everyday objects in their play.

And a fox hunt around the estate – with the Dominants hunting the submissives and a gala dinner where the dinner is eaten off the subs.

Those are just a few of the activities that takes place in ‘BDSM Weekend’. To enhance the story there is a map at the beginning of the novel.

Map of Lindsey Park Manor

If you want to read more, ‘BDSM Weekend’ is available from 10 April from the following suppliers:

Luminosity Publishing
Amazon US
Amazon UK
All Romance ebooks
Barnes & Noble

Adira’s Mate by April Zyon

Adira's MateBlurb:

Captured by his mortal enemy General Fintan Daykin is held for many long months in an Imarian Facility. On the day that he’s able to escape he’s faced with one of the biggest surprises of his life.

Adira Lora is the head of the Medical Ministries offices of Imaria and she learnt that there is something seriously wrong with one of the facilities. Something that she has to  go and figure out for herself since she trusts no one else.

Taken hostage by the tall, dark Craegin was not what Adira had in mind when she got to the facility, but it seemed as if Fate and the Spirits had something else altogether in mind for her.

She should be wary of the man who could tear her apart but she’s not. She’s drawn to him, she aches for him and she’s desperate to heal his injuries but he pushes her away at every turn.

He can’t let her too close, he’s far too attracted to the small Imarian that he dragged with him onto her crawler. He only wanted to get home, back to his people and away from the slow death that her people were giving him.

Once the pain of his injuries starts to ease and the reality of who little Adi is to him sets in Fin realizes that he will have to protect her from more than just his people. Fin realizes that he would also have to protect her from  hers as well.

When Adira finally submits to Fintan however he knows that he will never let her go. He owns her now, she is his in every sense of the word for now and all time and nothing would come between them.

Available from:
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon US
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Amazon AU
Amazon UK
Bookstrand
Evernight

Excerpt:

Adira went stiff as a board when the pistol was lifted to her temple. She took a deep breath and nodded. She understood what he was saying, understood and would comply. She had no idea who it was that had her, so she would play along until she could be free.

She listened to the man’s breathing and frowned. He was in pain; it was clear from how he was gasping for air but there was something more. He wasn’t breathing as an Imarian would, three sharp intakes of breath and one exhale.

Her stomach felt as if it were in knots. She felt ill because she suddenly knew that she wasn’t being held by someone that was on the island and had no idea who she was. She was being held by one of the Craegin that her people had kidnapped and had been torturing.

Stars. She was in deep trouble. “You really don’t want to do this,” she told the man. “I’m more trouble than I am worth. Ask anyone. I’m seriously not a good person to take hostage.”

“I don’t have what one would call a lot of choices here.” His voice was low, but she could hear the underlying growl that gave it a certain rough quality. “One way or another you are my ticket out of this hellish place. So you can either help me willingly, or I start to break bones. Nothing important, but I know the ones that will cause you immeasurable pain while still allowing you to function enough to get me free. The choice is up to you. What will it be?”

There was no choice. Adira was a lot of things, but able to withstand pain was not one of them. She just nodded. “What do you need?” She would get him to where he needed to be in order to get free. Then she would run as far and fast as she could.

He let out a harsh-sounding breath. “I need you to guide me to the ship bay here. Preferably to one of your crawlers. Then you and I are going to leave on that ship, and get me to a place where I can contact one of my own vessels to pick me up. If you behave yourself, don’t try anything to alert anyone, and generally do not make yourself an annoyance to me I might let you go free. Depends on how bad my mood is by that point.” She felt him shift slightly, his arm slowly letting go of her neck.

“We’re going to take the path of least resistance. No guards, as few cameras as possible, and you are not going to let anyone know anything is amiss in any way. I have zero problem shooting a woman, but I’d rather not have to drag you around at my heels to break free of here.”

Stars. “Okay,” she said with a wobbly voice. “Then the best way to go will be back the way that I came.” She had already killed a guard. This had to be her punishment. She knew it. She had killed one of her own people so this was the spirits’ way of punishing her. She was going to be this Craegin’s shield to get free of her people. “I have a crawler. I came over from one of our other worlds.”

The weapon lowered until it was pressed into her lower back, right on her spine. At that range he’d never miss, and if she wasn’t dead she’d definitely be paralyzed. “How many guards between here and the bay?” he asked. He’d given her a nudge to get her moving, but a hand on her arm slowed her pace. Adira couldn’t see much of him beyond the one arm down at his side. But she did notice he seemed to be limping, even dragging one of his legs slightly.

“None. There was one but he won’t be a problem.” The physician in her wanted to heal him. She wanted to reach out and find out what was wrong, but the prudent part of her kicked in and she knew that would be just plain dumb. She did, however, slow down. She ensured that she kept a pace that would keep them moving, but wouldn’t push him too far. She didn’t know what to expect of this Craegin, especially since the female captive had so easily sold out her people.

“What about the cameras? How many are we going to have to contend with once we’re past the holding areas?” The pressure of the weapon on her spine eased a little. She knew it was still there, but he wasn’t digging it in any longer. He might be injured, but she didn’t think for one moment he wasn’t aware of everything around him.

“None.” She had disabled them so that she could wheel the body out and dispose of it. Why hadn’t she thought to reenable them? “I had disabled them,” she told him. “I had been so caught up in my own mind that I forgot to reenable them,” she added honestly. “My crawler is the one closest to the exit doors as well, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the bays that will see us as that side is blocked from view by my crawler.”

“Good,” he grunted out. Suddenly his hand came up to her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Shh,” he hissed. The pressure of the weapon was back for a moment as the sound of boots on the tiled hall could be heard. They faded a few minutes later, and he released her arm. “Go.”

She nodded and went. There was something about his touch. It was odd. She didn’t focus on it, though. Instead, she concentrated on getting through this alive.

She made several twists and turns, being stopped a few times by the rather large male that held a weapon at her head, and finally they were before the bay doors. “When we enter we need to be fast. Get on my crawler. I need to make a call to the booth. There is audio as well as visual so you will have to stand far to the left behind a console and have to trust me. I really don’t want to die, so I will get you out of here.” She would have somehow gotten him free anyway because she didn’t believe in the tortures her people were inflicting upon this male.

His hand was on her arm again, holding tight. “Say or do the wrong thing when you talk to them and you won’t live long enough to make another mistake. If need be I can fly this thing out of here, but I’d really rather not have to do it with your blood all over the console.” He gave a light but firm squeeze of her arm, then let go. “Move,” he said under his breath.

She nodded and moved as quickly as his pace would allow to her crawler. The medical insignia on the side denoted it to be the head of their Medical Ministry, her. Her hand to the panel at the side had the doors sliding open and engines starting. She explained, “I’m still a doctor. My crafts need to be able to go the moment I get in, just in case of an emergency.”

No words came from him, just a grunt. A hard hand landed on her shoulder as soon as they stepped into the crawler. She could see the weapon out of her periphery as it was sweeping around the space. He was ensuring they were alone in the small craft. The hand eased and gave her the smallest of pushes toward the cockpit as the doors sealed behind them with a hiss of air.

Adira settled into the pilot’s seat and strapped in. Looking back at the male, she viewed him for the first time. He was large and impressive, handsome even. He was also severely injured. “Stand just to the left there,” she told him as she pointed to a console. “Now, please. They are beeping to get through.” She adjusted herself slightly, and when he was hidden pulled up the view screen. “Sorry that took so long, gentlemen. I had to take another call. I have an emergency on Talaxia five. I need clearance to scuttle quickly.”

The man on the screen was looking around the inside of her cockpit. “Likely a good thing you’re getting out of here now, Doc. Sounds like there’s an escapee in one of the wards. No clue how the freak got loose, but he’s extremely dangerous. He’s killed three of our men already, the spirits only know what he’d do to a woman,” he said. The hangar bay doors began to open. “You are clear for departure. Head straight out, and stay in the lane until you clear the beacons. Safe journeys.”

“Thank you.” She winced. Oh God, had he really killed three men? Or was the man she killed one of those? She closed off the view screen, then looked back. “You might want to hold on to something.” She began to move her crawler into place and took off as quickly as she typically would in any emergency situation.

Ten minutes later they were free of the planet and she looked to him once more. “Where are we headed?” She knew that he had said to a planet where his people could pick him up, but she had no idea where.

Easing around the equipment board he’d hidden behind, the Craegin male came forward. He leaned over the console to input some coordinates. “There,” he said. “Set the autopilot, and then we’re going to check the rest of this crawler over.” There wasn’t a whole lot left to check, except for the kitchenette, a tiny medical bay, the small sleeping quarters, and the bathing room that approximated to less than a closet amount of space. Crawlers were meant for short runs, not for comfort. Beyond that there was a storage area, but it wasn’t accessible from inside, only from the exterior of the craft.

Once she’d set the autopilot, he leaned in once more to type something else in. A quick glance showed he’d just locked down the entire panel. Without the code he’d entered she couldn’t call out, or fly the craft. Which meant she had to keep him alive if she wanted to survive this. “Stay here,” he ordered. Now that she couldn’t alert anyone to the fact she was a hostage, he likely felt secure in leaving her in the space. A hard look from his bright gray eyes under the heavy fall of badly tangled black hair, and he turned to leave the cockpit.

He had to keep his head lowered to move through the spaces, being taller than the average Imarian male. She noticed he was also broader, more heavily muscled than an Imarian. Not that she should be noticing anything about him, but it was hard not to when he seemed to take up so much of the space around her.

“Since you have locked everything down you should let me have a look at your injuries.” She should just let him bleed to death, but with him having locked her out of her own ship that would end very badly for her. “It’s beneficial to me for you to survive. The least I can do is tend to your injuries. I am a medical doctor, allow me to assist you.”

A derisive snort was her only answer as he continued away from her. He disappeared from view a couple of times, checking out the additional spaces afforded on the craft. Finally he reappeared from the sleeping quarters and signaled her toward him.

Adira cautiously moved forward. “Yes?” she asked as she looked up into his gray eyes. They were actually rather beautiful and ringed with a bright green that captured her interest. Adira shook her head. No, not her interest, something else. “I have a full medical bay. It’s very small but it has everything that we could offer. I could close your wounds and do a scan of your leg to find out what’s wrong with it. If you will let me?” She couldn’t push him to do as she asked, but she itched to ensure that he was okay.

“I know what’s wrong with it. I was there when they did it,” he said. No, it was more of a snarl, given the curl of his lip. “Inside. You’re going to sit on the edge of the bunk and not move while I clean up. I need to get the blood off of me so I can evaluate the exact amount of damage your colleagues inflicted.”

She winced and nodded. “I know that this isn’t a good time to tell you this.” She settled on the bunk and watched him as he moved. “And please don’t shoot me for telling you this truth.” She was chewing her lower lip as she watched him and gasped at the injuries that he wore. “By the stars, how can you even be mobile?” Gone was what she was going to tell him about the Craegin female. Instead her medical training kicked in and she wanted to heal.

He turned a cold look on her as he dropped the coat and shirt he’d removed to the floor. “Sheer will to not die in an Imarian testing facility. It’s amazing what the body and mind can do when the goals are so simple. Do not move,” he warned again. He took the pistol, and one other she hadn’t realized he had, and set them inside the shower—up high so they wouldn’t get wet, and where he could easily reach them but she couldn’t. He turned on the water and dropped his pants. No warning, no closing the small sliding door, nothing. Down they went, and a moment later his ass disappeared behind the sliding pane of the enclosement.

Adi simply watched him. Her mouth had gone suddenly dry and her mind went places that an Imarian held captive by a Craegin should never go. He was stunning. His height was massive, over two meters tall, easily, and his build was thick but it was the markings on his body that captured her attention. Well, that and the musculature and his ass. By the mother, his ass was impressive. “I’m sorry that you were taken,” she told him honestly. “There was a Craegin female that was held there as well.” Please don’t let them be related, she prayed.

“So I’d heard.” His words were barely loud enough for her to hear. “She was the one feeding your people information about us. Once I’m back I’ll be ensuring that anything we’d done prior is never done the same again. I will not allow our people to be easy prey for you sick freaks.”

“How did you know?” she asked with a frown and tilt of her head. “Yes, she has been feeding my people information for years, from what I surmised. They are sick.” She mumbled that last part. She didn’t protest on the sick freaks comment, because he had that right. Sadly. Her people weren’t supposed to ever take prisoners of war and abuse them as this man had been abused. “She watched. She took glee in telling me that when they did their first procedure on you she was able to watch. I’m so sorry.” Her people had a lot to answer for, but not every being who was Imarian was a sick freak, as he had stated.

“It’s amazing what we can hear in that place. They figure since we’re all going to die they don’t need to watch their words.” She watched him tip his head back, his face into the spray. He was tall enough that his shoulders, neck, and head were above the partition. The water shut off a moment later, and he shook his head before slicking his hair back from his face. He locked eyes with her as he pushed the partition aside and stepped out to collect a towel.

“Holy mother,” she whispered a moment before she turned her face from him. He was…there weren’t words to describe the perfection of this man. Even with the injuries that he had sustained he was impressive. Her gaze had gone straight to his cock and she had to bite her lip at the memory of that brief glance. He was soft, but his shaft hung low and was thick. He was very large, all over, and he made her heart do things that no Imarian had ever made her do before.

She could hear him toweling off. A soft clunk sounded, and she shot him a look to see he’d collected the laser pistols. The towel was wrapped around his waist, barely covering everything of importance. He was peering into the mirror on the wall, twisting this way and that to get a look at all the damage done. His back was a mass of bruises, as were his legs and arms. His chest had some bruising, but older from the colors she could see. Fresh nicks and cuts were all over his body. The leg he’d been favoring, though, looked the worst. His leg looked as if there was a heavy bruise that was practically fully black from his knee up to somewhere under the towel. She cringed at the sight. The pain that he was in had to be terrible. She hurt for the man. Obviously someone had repeatedly struck that leg.

“Will you please let me scan your leg at least? I know you have no reason at all to trust me, with what they did to you, but I need you to understand that it’s hurting me to see you hurting, especially since I can do something about it.” She wanted to help him. He could think all that he wanted about her people, but seeing him injured was hurting her. She had never hurt before like this. It was as if she could feel his pain.

He turned his head slowly to give her a look. She could practically see him thinking through all the options, considering every angle, and coming to a decision. With a small jerk of his head he gave her permission. “I need something to wear. This towel is not exactly comfortable over the wounds inflicted on a certain part of my anatomy. I need pants at the very least, but a shirt wouldn’t be amiss either.”

“I should have a medical uniform that will fit you.” She pointed to the drawer to his left. “There should be one in there. It might be a bit short on you but the male who wore it was rather overweight, so it should fit across your chest. I hope.” She winced and chewed her lip again. “I’m so sorry.” She seemed to continue to say that to him, but there weren’t enough words to tell him just how horrified she was that her people had done this to him.

“Your words hold no meaning to me, Imarian, so you may as well quit spouting them,” he said coldly with his eyes narrowed. Digging through the drawer, he pulled out pants and slipped them on. They were definitely short, only coming down to the top of his calves. He was a lot taller than the average Imarian, and definitely taller than her coworker. The shirt he pulled on after dropping the towel to the floor. It was definitely tight, but he seemed to have no loss of movement. “Good enough,” he muttered.

She nodded. “We should go into the medical bay. There’s a handheld scanner there and I can check to ensure that they didn’t break the bone. If they have, then I can put you into an air cast to help ease the pain.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “Are you going to be okay if I get up and go get medical ready for you?”

His head whipped around to look at her. “We’ll go together,” he said. He picked up one of the laser pistols and quickly took it apart, dropping the parts, except for the power source, into the disposal unit. He picked up the other one, but kept it down at his leg as he waved her out into the corridor.

“Okay.” She moved away from the large Craegin and toward medical bay. Looking over her shoulder she saw him following slowly behind her. Once that was done she pulled down supplies. “If you will have a seat on the bay bed there? I will scan you from head to toe. I would feel much better knowing that you are at least mostly healed before you go to your people.”

He eyed her up and down for a long moment before moving to the bed. Easing up on it slowly, he let out a hissing breath. Not that his face showed any of his discomfort, though. Once he was laying down she moved closer to him and saw he still had one hell of a grip on the weapon.

“I won’t hurt you. I know you have no reason at all to believe me but I will not hurt you,” she assured him. “It’s not who I am. I’m a healer,” she told him quietly. “Oh this is not good.” She paused the scan over his knee and bit her lower lip. “It looks as if they have dislocated your knee. I can set it and that will ease much of your pain.”

The Craegin gave her a grunt, but didn’t move. Adira was going to take that as acceptance of the help she was offering. He also didn’t shoot her, so that was a huge plus. “Apparently not all your healers have the same beliefs as you do.”

“I can’t speak for them, only me. I can’t believe that they did this. We have laws in place for a reason.” She was muttering as she spoke to him. “No one is supposed to ever be subjected to the pain and suffering that you were submitted to. For that I am so sorry. I want to kill my people for doing this.” Especially in her facility. She was not pleased at all.

The look on his face said he didn’t believe her. “If you plan on fixing my leg, sooner would be appreciated. I’ll need all the time possible to heal before we reach our destination. Especially since it won’t be in friendly territory, for you.”

“You aren’t going to put me off at a neutral planet?” she asked with a frown and sat back on her heels on the floor in front of him. “Oh stars.” She was so totally screwed. She was never going to live through this one. “Okay.” At least she could set his knee and help him heal, that was what she could do.

“There are no neutral planets anymore,” he said. “There are only ones slightly less hostile than the others. The one we’re aiming for is the least hostile around. But if your brethren weren’t so determined to exterminate us we wouldn’t have this problem. Would we?” he asked with a hard look at her.

Sadly he had a point there, but she didn’t say anything. Instead Adi worked on his leg, then passed him a medical hypospray. “You should give this to yourself to help you with your healing. It’s only vitamins, it shouldn’t harm you.”

He took the hypospray, looking it over a moment, then tossed it aside. “No drugs, nothing from an Imarian. I’ve been given more shots since my arrival than I have in my entire life. No more.

Especially something I didn’t load myself from supplies I trust. Fix my leg, or move so I can get up.”

She nodded and put her hand on his knee. “It’s going to hurt,” she told him only a moment before she popped his knee back into place. “So sorry,” she said once more and moved back. Standing, she looked over him. “No drugs, then. Sorry I offered them to you.” Maybe she should drug herself and be done with it.

He hadn’t even flinched. Either his pain was already so great he hadn’t felt what she’d done, or he was so well trained he’d been able to hide the reaction. She had a feeling it might have been a little of both. Easing to a sitting position, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly put weight onto his leg. “Better,” he muttered. “You really shouldn’t be apologizing to anyone, especially your enemy. It leaves you in a weakened position, more so than you currently are in.”

Footwear and Fantasy by J.J. Lore (@JJLore1)

Footwear and FantasyBlurb

Hanna Bregot is struggling to make a go of her ailing father’s cobbler shop, but the residents of her town regard a woman shoemaker as an oddity. At the end of the day, she can’t even summon the energy to repair her tattered slippers, let alone earn enough to feed herself or her cat.

Elf companions Lear and Garrin like to mingle among humans, but always in disguise. When they notice a poor cobbler crying over her shoes one evening, they immediately decide to intervene and give her a gift in the hopes of lifting her spirits.

What starts out as simple kindness soon morphs into a sensual game the three want to play forever. But when the Queen of the Elves discovers their love, it becomes a matter of magic versus mundane in a life or death decision.

Buy Links:
Amazon UK
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All Romance eBooks
Evernight Publishing

Excerpt:

A gasping noise interrupted his thoughts and he and Lear turned toward the sound, alert to any threat. Rather than facing an intruding thief, instead they confronted a blinking Hanna crouched on the stairs. She was clad in a thin chemise, her bare feet and ankles peeping out from under the frayed hem as she tottered on an upper step, her thin hand grasping the rail. Her pink lips parted wordlessly as she glanced between the two of them. For a long moment, Garrin found himself wondering what she saw. Neither he nor his mate had bothered to assume a human veil, so she was now seeing elven men for what had to be the first time in her life. He knew he was ruggedly built by his race’s standards, where Lear aligned more closely to the slim, lithe ideal. They both had brown hair grown long and pulled back in a hank. His was thick and dark while Lear’s was more auburn and smooth. Of course, their pointed ears and sharper features were likely the first things she’d notice, alerting her to the presence of magical beings in her shop.

“You’re…you’re…” Hanna’s soft voice trembled and before he realized what he was about, Garrin found himself rising, ready to assist. Her blue eyes widened as she took him in and her eyelids fluttered. Like a felled sapling she slumped, crumpling on the stairs in a swoon. She would have tumbled down the last remaining few if he hadn’t gathered her up in his arms. Her warm weight was a welcome burden and he allowed himself the pleasure of looking over her body, taking in the swells of her breasts pressing against the thin fabric of her gown, the curved collarbone and hollow at the base of her throat revealed by the garment’s disarray. Her dark brown lashes fluttered against her pale skin as she roused and he couldn’t help but draw in a deep breath to capture her sweet, musky scent while he could.

Lear crouched at her side, running his fingers along the soft skin of her wrist, his gaze never leaving her face.

“Should we return her to bed, do you think?” Garrin tried to keep his voice low so as to not startle her, but she flinched and blinked her eyes instead. Her gaze flew to his, her deep blue eyes wide with confusion as she pressed her hands to his chest as if to push away. He tightened his grip instinctively, something about their physical closeness pulling him to her in an immediate and primal way. Her muscles stiffened in response and at that slight friction against his body, his prong thrummed to life, affirming that indeed he wished to have this woman.

“What are you? Why are you in my shop?” Her voice quavered and her eyes brightened with imminent tears. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Garrin took in an aghast breath. She was frightened of them? To be fair, they were trespassing, but they were attempting to do a good deed and had certainly never contemplated sneaking up to observe her as she slept. Or at least he hadn’t until the thought occurred.

“We won’t hurt you.” Lear’s voice went quiet and soothing, but the woman shook her head in denial. Her limbs quivered as if she longed to escape.

“We aimed to help you, mistress, only that.” Garrin knew that wasn’t quite the whole truth but better to reassure her than reveal he and his mate harbored lustful thoughts toward her. To ease her stress he invoked a small glamour over her, a mere shadow of reassurance and charm.

“But…but…what are you? You aren’t like any men I’ve seen before. Are you from one of the northern kingdoms?” Hanna blinked and attempted to sit up, somehow managing to position herself on Garrin’s lap. His thickened prong approved of the soft buttocks pressed to it. Her expression was sleep softened and gentle, not tense and frightened like before.

“In a manner of speaking,” Lear agreed with her but went still as she reached out one work-worn hand to almost touch the flared point of his ear.

“Was that an injury? How could that be? You both have them.” Her tone went from speculative to confused. Her whole body flinched against his, and Garrin longed for her to move like that when he had his thick prong pressed tight inside her body. However, it seemed there were quite a few impediments to overcome before that scenario would come to pass.

“You aren’t human, are you?” Now she did pull away in earnest, somehow able to overcome the little spell he’d sent her way.

Lear reached out to her cheek and whispered something under his breath and she quieted again, gently shaking her head even as she subsided against Garrin’s shoulder.

“We’re elves.” Garrin believed direct was best, especially when she was somewhat impaired by magic. She moaned low in her throat and Lear again reached for her, smoothing his fingers along her wrists.

“But you don’t exist. The old stories are mere fables and tales. The devil has pointed ears like yours. Or a demon. The cleric says minions of hell can come to steal us away underground where you use us cruelly.”

Garrin wondered what the cleric’s reaction would be if an orc shambled through his church in the middle of a service, or dwarves tunneled out of the vestry floor. As always, the legends and tales of humans cast magical folk as the enemy and blamed them for all the troubles that befell them.

“We aren’t devils or even particularly mean.” Lear smiled at her and she tentatively returned it. How much of her agreeability was due to genuine feeling or the glamour, Garrin couldn’t guess, but the main point was she was calm. “Merely different.”

Hanna raised her hands in the air and shifted her legs, clearly attempting to rise, but Garrin wanted to hold her fast. She might stumble and he would not care to see her injure herself.

“You need to let me go. You need to leave my home,” she declared as she wrenched herself free and tottered between them. Her gaze fell on the boots gleaming like night, and her eyes widened again. “What…are those for me?”

“Yes, Mistress Hanna.” Lear stood from his crouch and reached for the boots, holding them out as the silken laces trailed down.

“This defies all explanation. Mythical creatures in my shop, making me beautiful things.” Hanna’s voice trailed off as she accepted the boots and ran her fingertips along the stitched seams, her hair loosening from the plait down her back. “I should be afraid, screaming for the constable, but I’m not. Why?”

Garrin cleared his throat, sure he didn’t want to tell her the reason.

“We mean you no harm, so there’s no need to be afraid.” Lear nodded encouragingly at her. “Would you care to try them on?”

He knelt at her feet, a supplicant searching for her approval. Abandoning all pretense of aloofness, Garrin joined him, needing to touch her again. He no longer cared about the potentially grave consequences of interacting with her. He craved this sweet-smelling human as he craved wooded glens and waterfalls.

J. Lore Bio:

J. Lore needs three things; strong, black coffee, time to write, and…well…you can guess the third. When she isn’t inventing fantastical tales filled with passionate people, she’s shaking sriracha on whatever she’s eating or reading about the Justinian plague. For updates on her bestselling erotic romance releases, visit her at http://mllesnarratif.com/j-j-lore/ or follow on Twitter @JJLore1

Five Fun Facts about Kacey Hammell… (@kaceyhammell)

  1. I have a large collection of stuffed Smurfs that my children have bought me. I love Papa Smurf dearly!
  2. I cry when a favorite character gets killed in a TV show. Example: Sweets death in Bones…I swear I thought I’d just lost a best friend.
  3. I will not add salt to any meal I prepare.
  4. I could eat Subway sandwiches at least four times a week if I could.
  5. I have a collection of big and floppy hats that I wear in the summer (to keep from getting too much sunburn), and my children tease me relentlessly about being a Granny. LOL

Thanks for having me over today, Lucy!!

I hope everyone enjoys Guarding Midnight!

***** 

Guarding MidnightBlurb:

Canadian Muscle …

When Desires Need Protecting.

No one knows sacrifice better than former Army Sergeant Gavin Bennett. He’s witnessed firsthand the emotional, physical and mental toll of being caught in the crossfire. Being a bouncer-slash-bodyguard may not be Gavin’s dream job, but he’s willing to do just about anything to help out family. When Gavin reports for his first day of work, he quickly discovers a woman who threatens to crack his legendary cool.

Shree Walker is on the run from a dark past she tried to shut away. Battered and broken, a happily ever after doesn’t exist for her. Ready to start fresh with a new life in a new city, she is happy dancing at the Vixen Club. She’d be even happier without the presence of the prickly new bouncer who won’t let anyone or anything get past his carefully guarded defenses. He’s a distraction she doesn’t need. And a temptation she can’t resist.

When Shree is kidnapped by the criminal mastermind hell-bent on taking the club at any cost, Gavin has to make a decision. Hold tight and continue to keep Shree at arm’s length. Or break down his walls and take a chance on something more powerful than them both: Love.

Guarding Midnight Book Page
Kacey’s Evernight Publishing Page
Kacey’s Amazon.com Page
Kacey’s aRe Page
Kacey’s Kobo Page

*****

Excerpt:

Gavin strode to the bar at the top end of the room. Favoring his leg, he eased onto a stool and faced the stage. Two fairly tall, slender women stretched out their calves and backs. Leotards barely covered their ass-cheeks.

A man could get used to seeing such fine flesh every day.

Lucky for him, he’d been roped into being here. He’d make the most of the rash decision by appreciating the view.

The music picked up tempo, filling the area with rapid rhythms and a lot of bass.

Rock beats from a single on the last Nickelback album shook the floor. He couldn’t keep from tapping against the bar. His Army regimen played the band’s albums continuously. Hell, they were all Canadian and had to support home-country talent.

A blur of red and black rushing out on stage caught his attention. A woman skulked along at the front of the stage, bending, twirling, and angling her hot, sexy bod. She would no doubt capture every man’s attention when she performed.

Gavin swallowed hard, his eyes peeled to the sexy display in front of him.

Red sports bra and tight spandex shorts barely contained her curvy, tanned body dancing at lightning speed around the stage. Long, toned legs stretched, and her body twirled the pole as if it was made for her. Though she wore barely-there spandex, she didn’t give off a stripper vibe. Her thighs clung to the metal, showing off strong muscles. Without moving her legs from the pole, she let go with her hands and planted them firmly on the floor. She moved like a worm as she stayed suspended, the pole between her legs as her arms held her up. Her tight, large breasts were so tempting. His mouth watered.

The woman was skilled and in-tune with her body and with what she had to offer.

And boy, if she didn’t have a lot to offer.

Her breasts were definitely more than a handful, which was just how he liked them. Small, medium, large, and bountiful…as long as he could stick his dick in between the mounds and fuck them till his load burst all over a woman’s chin, lips, chest, neck, and in her hair. He loved to see his pleasure all over a woman.

His mouth watered because of the seductive goddess on stage.

Her long, dark, wavy hair clung to her face and shoulders, spinning around as much as she did. Bends, kicks, gymnast moves…he was impressed.

With a flick of her hair, she turned and glanced back over her shoulder, her hips swaying to the distinct bass. Facing the empty seats, she covered the stage, her movements skilled and quick. He watched, transfixed at the many steps, and could only guess at the training this woman needed to have in order to make it look so easy.

As the song ended, she bent at the waist, breathing deep. Her gaze caught on his.

He drew in a deep breath.

Damn, those dark depths laser-focused on his, holding him in place. Desire coursed through him, pulling at him to forget his reason for being here and find out more about her.

Beautiful. He loved everything about her gorgeous face. From her high cheek bones to the perfectly shaped lips that looked luscious and tasty from where he sat. And what he wouldn’t give to claim the first taste. Of those lips and anywhere else from head to toe.

Heavy pulses drew him from his thoughts and the beauty walked off the stage.

He squelched the desire to follow her. Sighing, he cursed himself. Getting a hard-on for some strange chick wasn’t what he’d signed up for by coming here. He had to keep his head in the game. But the image of her bent over while he drove into her over and over again burned in his mind. He adjusted himself behind the zipper of his jeans.

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***** 

Avid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…

Canadian-born author Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic. A romance reader from a young age, she fell in love with happily ever afters.  These days, as a multi-published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass, and emotion to the many genres 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 / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Pinterest / Instagram / Authorgraph

Rumpled Between the Sheets by Kastil Eavenshade (@KEavenshade)

rumpledbetweenthesheets1mI must admit, I can’t help myself. Evernight Publishing’s Naughty Fairy Tale line is my favorite thing to write. I had the honor of having the first one with The Wolves of Argonne and I haven’t looked back. Unlike the first two, however, Witches & Lycans and Rumpled Between the Sheets are contemporaries with a little bit of an urban fantasy twist though the latter isn’t quite as prevalent. The female lead Mary dreams of something more than what a small mountain town full of secrets has to offer. Unfortunately for her, you can take the girl out of the backwoods but not the backwoods out of the girl. What inspired me for her is we all have these dreams of what we want to be in our lives. We work so hard to achieve that goal only to find that we’ve been chasing the wrong path. Fate has a way of twisting us in the right direction and for Mary, she finds what was missing.

*****

Excerpt:

Benjamin leaned against the elevator. His grimace pleased her. He obviously hated her choice of clothing.

“All the clothes I have for you and this is what you go with?” He flailed his fingers up and down her body.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe fuck-me pumps like Ginger there is sporting are practical for being on your feet most of the day.”

He got closer to her. “You could always be on your back instead.”

“Uh, personal space?” She jabbed a finger into his stomach. Rock hard abs greeted her unpolished nail.

He backed off. “Of course.” The elevator opened. “After you.”

She rolled her eyes, a vain attempt not to fall for his arrogant charms. Mary hated men who were so forward. She’d been visually undressed by every man she came across in New York, and now here she was again with the same thing happening. Did it matter that he didn’t follow through on his innuendos? Or that he turned her legs to jelly when she locked onto his intense gray eyes?

They rode down in silence. She secretly snuck candid looks at him. His hand was in his pocket, making the jacket he wore ride up enough to reveal his taut buttocks. She feigned pushing her hair behind her ears when he glanced back. Ginger was her buffer. Without the woman riding along…

“Damn it,” she muttered. Benjamin should infuriate her yet the hum between her thighs craved his attention.

“A problem, Miss Becken?” Benjamin turned to her outburst.

She cleared her throat. “Nothing. I just remembered my favorite scissors are probably back at the shop.”

“I’m sure Miss Govern grabbed everything, per my direction.” He moved to the front of the elevator. “Welcome to your new workroom.”

The shiny metal doors parted and Mary had to contain her enthusiasm. While she loved her small workroom, Benjamin’s was ten times bigger than her whole shop. In the corner, looking drab against the white walls and tables, stood her favorite dress form. Her unfinished blue dress still adorned it.

“Miss Govern, large coffee and an egg salad sandwich on rye.” He snapped his fingers and shooed her with a flick of his wrist.

“And Miss Becken?”

“I’m not hungry, but some herbal tea would be great.” She picked through her fabrics, trying to ignore Benjamin.

“On your way, Miss Govern.”

Ginger paused, pursing her lips, before she hurried out of the room back to the elevator.

Mary snorted, not surprised by his crass behavior toward his employee. Maybe Ginger did mean to give him some competition. She walked past his highness and sat down in the corner area where the bulk of her materials were placed. On the table lay a hefty stack of papers. Her contract.

Leafing through the pages, she stifled a laugh. “You can’t be serious. Fifty pages?” She pushed it away.

“Well, we could come to some other agreement.” He sat on the edge of the table, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah. You could design your own collection and I could do mine and may the best person win.” She crossed her arms.

“If your fashion sense is anything like how you’ve dressed today, you haven’t a prayer without my guidance.”

“Well, they’re your designs, so obviously you don’t know how to make a cohesive collection.” She plucked at the top. “Tacky.”

“Have it your way.” He dug in his jacket and pulled out a check, placing in front of her. “For the materials you handmade for my use and enough for a ticket home.”

“I didn’t make this for you.” She ripped up the check, throwing the confetti in his face. “I made it for me.”

“Did I mention a sizeable sum has already gone into your bank account back in Bumfuck Hollow?” He shoved the contract her way. “I suggest you sit that pretty little ass of yours down and get reading. You do know how to read, right?”

“Fuck you, you arrogant bastard.”

He rounded on her and grabbed her by the waist. Her bottom hit the table and he positioned himself between her legs. “Is that what you want?”

“Wh-what?” She gasped as he bent her back, his body pressed against her. His hardness nestled between her legs and his hot breath teased her earlobe.

“I am willing to change the contract, Miss Becken, if you wish to be paid in another way.” He pushed her closer to his hard on. “You keep saying those words and that has me wondering something. What if I was to clip the buttons of this blouse off with my teeth one by one? Would you stop me or beg for me to continue?”

Beg. Definitely beg. “I—I—”

*****

Blurb:

When Mary Becken’s mother passes away, she takes over her exclusive tailoring business. Not satisfied with the fabrics available, she unearths her mother’s loom and creates a new textile by weaving thin strands of gold. Soon her small mountain town of Beowulf Hollow is swarming with new customers and invitations come pouring in for New York Press Week.

Benjamin Elstiltzkin is downright ruthless when it comes to his fashion business, and no small town upstart is going to dethrone him as king of the fashion world. When he hatches a plan to force Miss Becken to work for him exclusively, the one thing he doesn’t expect is the temptation she poses to his never-ending bachelorhood.

With a deadline looming to gather his collection, Benjamin might have met his match in more ways than one.

Buy nowEvernight Publishing | Amazon | Amazon UK

*****

AUTHOR LINKS:

Facebook | Twitter | Blog/Website | Evernight Publishing | Amazon | Goodreads

Guest Blogger: Helena Stone (@helenasheat)

Little RainbowsThank you for welcoming me on your blog today, Lucy. I’m delighted to spend one day during my release party for Little Rainbows with you and your followers.

And talking about parties; everybody loves a good party – right? Well, maybe not.

I’m not quite sure what possessed me when I decided to make Heather – my female protagonist – a party planner. If there are people less equipped to write about parties than me, I’ve yet to meet them. To say I’m not overly fond of parties would be a gross understatement. I’m no good in crowds. A large number people gathered together – especially in a confined space – makes me feel claustrophobic.  I’m okay if I know most, if not all, the people I’m with. Throw me in the middle of a group of strangers and I’ll do my very best to become invisible.

I envy people who can walk up to strangers and kick start a conversation about just about any subject. For some reason I never learned how to do that, or maybe it’s a gift I wasn’t granted – I don’t know. All I do know is that being an introvert, somewhat insecure, and more than a little bit shy, means that parties aren’t always a fun experience for me.

On the other hand, because I’m lousy at mixing with people, I tend to keep busy during parties. I’ll happily supply people with drinks, make sure there’s enough nibbles to keep everybody from getting hungry, and pick the right music to reflect the mood surrounding me.

So maybe making Heather a party planner was not as farfetched as it seemed at first glance. Having lost her husband eighteen months ago, Heather has no interest in attending parties either. Resurrecting the party planning business she’d made a success with her late husband, is a priority though. And, organising a big event and being part of it, forces her to step out of her lonely comfort zone.

Of course Heather has no way of knowing that the job she’s taken on will lead to much more than just interacting with the world again. She’s about to get pushed much further out of her comfort zone than she could possibly have imagined. But then again, that is often the case in life – and at parties. They can so easily bring us much more than we expect, provided we’re brave enough to embrace the experience.

*****

Excerpt:

There it was, her opportunity to kick-start her life again. And, as restarts went, it made quite an impression. The hotel or club—she wasn’t quite sure how to label the building—looked rather grand at the end of the long drive. The Atlantic Ocean, throwing up a spray in the distance, only enhanced the picture. Even on this bright summer’s day she could see small rainbows in the watery mist the waves were producing. It would be easy to confuse this place with any of the up-market tourist traps the west coast of Ireland was peppered with. This could be any other posh resort catering to Americans trying to find their roots and golfers looking for an opportunity to try the links courses littered along the coastline. The heavy gate blocking the entrance told a different story. She knew too much about this place, its purpose and what happened behind those gates to confuse it for anything except what it was, a dream from the past and—if everything went according to plan—the start of the rest of her life.

She’d been looking at the building, the grounds, the gate and the little buzzer on the intercom box for a few minutes. If anybody on the inside happened to be keeping an eye on the entrance through those security cameras, they would have decided she was either scared or crazy by now—and they’d be right. She was apprehensive. Her hands were clasped together, her fingers worrying her wedding ring. After eighteen months of virtually living like a hermit, coming here felt like diving in headfirst. Still, if she’d had any doubts about leaving Dublin, that surprise visitor two weeks ago and his shocking proposal had taken care of those.

The bastard. She refused to even think his name. It still bothered her he’d had the nerve to show up at her door like that. Where would he have gotten the idea she’d be open to his suggestions? It had been clear that he’d expected her to embrace his offer—or should she call it an order—with open arms. His delusions of grandeur must have gotten the better of him, or he’d confused her with someone she clearly wasn’t. She didn’t get it. Even before her self-inflicted confinement, she’d made a point of staying away from him. Why would he think she’d changed her mind about him just because she was on her own? She didn’t know but lingering on that memory right now didn’t serve any purpose. She didn’t want him in her thoughts, especially not now. It would only make her more nervous than she already was.

She’d thought this place would be the perfect setting for her return to the BDSM world she’d been ignoring for well over a year. Now that the moment was close, now that she had to take this last step out of her confinement, the first step into her future, she couldn’t help second-guessing herself. Was she really ready to move forward? Could she do it on her own? She’d never been a part of this lifestyle without her husband and his loving support.

With a sigh she lifted her hand and pressed the little button. She’d come this far. She hadn’t driven the five hours from Dublin only to turn away at the last hurdle. If she gave up now, it would be the end of the business they’d built together. If she chickened out of this, there would be no way of ever going back on her own terms. Going forward scared the shit out of her but going back frightened her even more. She could do this. She’d promised she would take this step. Breaking her word was not an option, no matter how scared she was.

*****

Blurb:

When Jason Hudson and Heather Staunton first meet they are young and sure they are wrong for each other. As a result they spend a summer admiring each other from a safe distance.

Twenty years later Heather is coming out of mourning, having lost her husband and Dom eighteen months earlier. Jason, now the owner of an exclusive sex resort on the west coast of Ireland, struggles with the loss of his desire to dominate.

Jason’s resort is about to celebrate its first anniversary and party planner Heather has been hired to create the perfect celebration. Their reunion comes as a big surprise to both of them.

Old and familiar attraction, battles with new and conflicting emotions as Jason and Heather work together to organize the ultimate BDSM event. Overcoming the issues between them isn’t the only obstacle Jason and Heather face. In the background lurks a threat both to Heather’s independence and Jason’s livelihood.

Buy links:

Totally Bound | Amazon USAmazon UK

*****

Author info:

Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.

The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.

Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.

Helena Stone can be found in the following places:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenasHeat
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/helena.stone.735
Website: http://helenastone.blogspot.ie/
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/helenastone735/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13258932.Helena_Stone
Email: helenastoneauthor@gmail.com