Category Archives: Promo
Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. After an unexpected meeting and an afternoon together, Friedrich and Sam are woken up by a tired, irritated Kat with bad news. Luckily Sam knows how to make his fiancee feel better, with Friedrich’s help.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
“You two look comfortable.”
Friedrich cracked one eye open. The Fräulein stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Sam and him. Her face was in shadow, making it impossible for him to judge her expression.
Sam stirred next to him, giving her a sleepy grin. “Oh, hi, sweetheart,” he said, yawning and stretching. “Friedrich and I met up in town, and then we came back here after lunch. I guess we fell asleep.”
“So I see.” She sat on the end of the mattress, hunching over a bit as if in pain.
Sam sat up, more alert now. “What’s wrong?”
Those slim shoulders shrugged. “Not the best of days. Schoengraff still won’t talk to us, and we lost Gimmel. Brayburn got to them first.”
“Oh, Kat.” Unconcerned by his nudity, Sam threw back the bedcovers and scooted down to her, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “We had the entire deal set up. All we needed were signatures on the partnership papers. And I walked in there this afternoon to see all of them smirking at me, ever so pleased with themselves as they gave me the news. Bastards.”
Friedrich felt out of place, watching the two of them cuddle. He started to get out of bed, and Sam glanced back at him. The American man shook his head, looking meaningfully at the pillows. Confused, Friedrich sat back, waiting.
Sam turned back to the Fräulein. “Darling, why don’t you shuck out of all this and let us take care of you?” he suggested. “We can give you a nice, long back rub, then pop you in the tub for a soak while we order dinner.”
Another sigh, heavier this time. “All right.”
To Friedrich’s surprise, she stood and slipped out of her tailored jacket and blouse without a second thought, tossing them carelessly on the floor. Her skirt joined them. Next was a cream silk slip that clung to her body in delicious ways, outlining the small, shapely curves of her breasts and hips. With Sam’s encouragement, this was pulled off and deposited on the floor, leaving her in a brassiere and flimsy silk knickers.
Friedrich’s mouth went dry. He knew the Fräulein was beautiful, knew it in the same way that the Venus di Milo was beautiful. It was a cool, unattainable beauty, something more to worship than hold in his arms. But now, she was a tired, aggravated woman who simply wanted to stretch out after a long, difficult day and be tended to.
And his cock swelled at the thought. He tugged the bedclothes higher, trying to camouflage his sudden desire.
Sam shot him a quick grin as he moved the Fräulein up the bed, encouraging her to stretch out on her stomach. “You relax, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let us take care of you.”
She mumbled something into her pillowed arms, eyes already closed. Friedrich realized they were shadowed, soft smudges of exhaustion visible now in the cupped curve. A strange tenderness overtook him, making him want to care for her the same way he would have done for Greta.
He knelt on the bedcovers at her side, looking to Sam for guidance. The American man reached over to the bedside table, picking up the bottle of lotion there. He shook out a good palmful of the creamy liquid, then gestured for Friedrich to hold out his own hand and deposited more lotion in it.
Friedrich followed him, rubbing the lotion between his hands to warm it, then bringing it to the Fräulein’s pale skin. The men mirrored each other as they worked up and down her spine, rubbing the taut muscles there. Friedrich skirted the band of her bra, but Sam just shook his head and unhooked it, flipping the freed ends to either side. “Better?”
“Mm.” She wriggled between them, sliding the straps over her arms and slipping out of the garment entirely. Tossing it to the side, she snuggled back into her folded arms. “Now it’s better.”
Friedrich licked dry lips, acutely aware that she was nude to the waist. He could see the curve of her breast pressed against the sheet, plumping out to the side. It would be so easy to lean over, slide his hands underneath her and cup those beautiful mounds, feel her nipples harden against his palms—
His cock twitched, standing out from his groin now. He raised guilty eyes to Sam, who simply shook his head and grinned.
“Keep rubbing,” the American mouthed, slipping off the bed.
Obeying, Friedrich kept stroking the Fräulein’s back, using his thumbs to work into the knotted muscles around her shoulders and neck. He made sure to round his own back, keeping his erection away from her skin. She started purring in pleasure like her namesake, coming up to meet his hands.
“Go a little lower, please. My back hurts from those damned chairs,” she said.
“Ja, Fräulein.” He stroked down her spine, his thumbs dipping into the sweet dimples at the top of her silk-covered ass. It was perfect, two luscious curves that he wanted to touch, caress, hold in his hands while he—
“Lower.”
He stopped at the waistband of her knickers. Did she mean—
She wiggled her ass at him. “Take them off and keep rubbing.”
He couldn’t help smiling. She certainly knew what she wanted.
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Fabulous Friday Reads: Desire Unexpected (Assassins and Sweethearts Series Book #1)
Let’s kick off this decidedly soggy weekend with the immensely talented S.J. Maylee and her hot new erotic romance Desire Unexpected, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Here’s what S.J. has to say about the inspiration for this story:
When I initially started this story, it wasn’t with the intent to write about assassins. It wasn’t with the intent to create a new series either. My muse led the way. In only a few days, I had one scene from each of the stories and then I knew. I could see it all play out. Not only were they each strong male leads, but they were lethal. They exceled at their profession, but each of their lives was missing one important thing. The mission was laid out before me and I accepted the challenge.
In each story in the Assassins and Sweethearts Series, I’ll take on the task of finding each assassin his one and only sweetheart.
When I began building the story for Desire Unexpected, I knew immediately Ethan and Nadia were perfect for each other but it would test my match making skills. I didn’t see how they’d attract each other. So, I had them meet at one of my favorite places, Chagall’s America Windows at the Chicago Art Institute. My husband and I saw the windows on our first wedding anniversary. They’re breath taking and so is the way Ethan and Nadia fall in love.
These men may kill for a living, but they’ll capture your heart. I hope you fall in love with this new series just as I have.
Life is passing Nadia Duskin by from her position in the mailroom. It only fulfills two necessities, keeping the repo man away and keeping her up to date on her sexy CEO. Ethan Wright is prepared to frighten and fire the nosey girl who sorts his company’s mail. After engaging with her at one of his favorite places in the world, he digs deeper.
Together, they find the kind of pleasure that could keep them satisfied for a lifetime. Her love may be the key to putting both of their lives back on track, but to what end? When a man he’s been contracted to kill threatens Nadia’s life, he forces her to face reality. Either they’ll delve deeper into the desires neither expected or they may die trying.
Story Excerpt
“It reminded me of you.” He shook his head. “It’s just from the museum gift shop. I wanted to give you something for putting up with me. I hope you like it.”
“Thank you.” She took the little box and sat on her battered sofa. “Please, take a seat.”
He sat next to her, but kept to the edge, confirming there was nothing relaxed about this visit.
After slipping the green ribbon from the box, she pulled off the lid and pushed back the tissue paper, revealing the item she’d so long desired. Her heart raced and she scooted closer to him. He had no idea what he’d done. Her secret crush giving her the piece of jewelry she’d long desired was incredibly perfect. Neither were really her style and she wanted them all the same. She looked at him with heavy tears stinging her eyes. Brushing the box from her lap, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed our time together.” He brushed away the tear that had rolled down her cheek and cupped her chin.
“Don’t say that like it’s over.” She took a hold of his wrist and pulled it into her lap. “It’s not, right?” Panic raced over her. If he wanted to leave, she wouldn’t stop him, but her whole body hurt with wanting him to stay.
“I’m no good for you, Nadia.” He took hold of her hands. “You deserve a nice man with an uncomplicated life. I can’t give you what you need.”
“That’s not true.” She put her fingers to his lips. “Don’t.”
He took a hold of her shirt, not pulling her closer, just squeezing the fabric in his fist.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you.” She brought her touch back to his hands, trying to ease the pressure. “I just know the only time I feel alive is when I’m with you. You’re on my mind constantly.” She lowered her gaze, losing her courage by the second. “There’s something between us and I want to explore it. I want to know what drives you insane with need. Don’t you want me too?”
“Shit, Nadia, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first day at the windows.” He let her go and pulled out of her reach to slip around to the other side of the couch with his back to her. “I want things from you that I’m certain would frighten you.”
“I doubt that.” Knowing she had to make her move now or risk losing him forever, she pulled her shirt over her head and tugged off her sweatpants, tossing them both on the chair. “Do you remember the questions I asked about you before we met?”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“No, I’m not into fire play, but I have a feeling you know what I need.”
“What …” He turned, his gaze swept over her body and he brushed his hand over his mouth. “You take my breath away.” He stepped toward her, adjusting the bulge in his pants. “You think you want to play?”
“I do.” She sucked on her lip, wishing she’d worn her one set of matching bra and panties.
“Fuck, I want this” He brushed her skin ever so slightly up her arms, across her chest, and down between her breasts. “I’ve had dreams about this moment.” He raised her chin, forcing her to look at him. He dragged his fingers through her hair and tugged the length of it back. “I want you at my mercy. Do you have any idea what it’s like to give someone like me control?”
“Yes, sir.” She arched her back, revealing her neck. He kept pulling and tingles of pain danced along her scalp. “Please.”
“Are you already asking for mercy?” He tugged her hair again “I don’t think you know what you’re starting.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I want more, sir.” Her breasts pushed against his chest and her grip on his arms tightened. “I want to know.”
Where to Buy
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About S.J. Maylee
S.J. Maylee fell in love with storytelling at a young age and with it came a deep-seated desire for everyone to find their happily ever after. She’s finding the happy endings for her characters one steamy story at a time.
When she’s not reading or writing, you can find her caring for her garden, laughing with her two young sons, or dancing to her husband’s music. She’s a PMP (Project Management Professional), Nia instructor, and coffee addict.
As a writer she has a tendency to break hearts, but she always glues them back together.
Where to find S.J. Maylee
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Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day for the soggy clavicle of Texas! Courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino, today I’m sharing a teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. This teaser sets up an important scene for my hero Friedrich von Bader, who has to make a difficult decision about loyalty. The sexy stuff will be back next week, promise!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
Just before Friedrich reached the bus stop at Alexanderplatz, he noticed a well-appointed car trailing him on the street. For a moment, he wondered if it was someone trawling for a prostitute, then bristled at the thought of someone trying to pick him up on one of Berlin’s central streets. Christ in heaven, they can’t smell it on me, can they?
The car pulled up alongside him. “Excuse me? Colonel von Bader, isn’t it?” a gravelly voice said.
Friedrich stumbled in shock. He turned to the man leaning out the car window, just stopping the automatic salute. “General Hauptmann?”
General Reinhart Hauptmann had been one of his father’s colleagues and, briefly, his own commanding officer just before the end of the war. He had a reputation for being clever, both on the field and in the political arena that was the upper echelons of the German military. “Ha. Yes, I thought that was you,” Hauptmann said, giving Friedrich an approving smile. “What are you doing wandering around Unter den Linden at this time of night?”
Trying to deal with the fact that a strange man fucked me and I enjoyed it. “I’m heading home,” Friedrich said instead, stepping to the curb. He noticed the other man wore his army uniform, replete with medals pinned along the breast front. “I take it you’re still in the army, sir?”
“For my sins,” Hauptmann said easily. “Apparently they needed an old war horse around to march out in front of the damned French every now and then. I almost didn’t recognize you out of uniform.” He sniffed the air, grimacing a bit. “Rather chilly out, isn’t it? If you’re heading home, my driver would be happy to take you there.”
Friedrich felt a flush of shame at the thought of Hauptmann seeing where he lived now. “I’m sure it’s out of your way, sir. I don’t mind taking the bus—”
“Nonsense, man,” Hauptmann said briskly. “Christ knows I’m in no hurry to get home. Get in, please.”
He opened the door, moving to the far side of the seat. Friedrich forced a smile and climbed into the car, trying not to wince as he sat down. “Thank you, sir,” he muttered.
“Where do you live?”
“Friedrichschain. Tilsiterstrasse 5, across from the St. Georgen cemetery.”
“Ah, I know the area.” Hauptmann leaned forward to give the address to his driver, and the car rolled forward. “For God’s sake, von Bader, sit back,” he added, chuckling. “You’re not on review here, I assure you.”
Friedrich made himself relax. “Thank you, sir. Force of habit.”
“Old habits die hard, eh?” Hauptman said. “I heard through the grapevine that you were discharged. Damned shame, that. You were a fine officer—I was proud to have you in my command.” He sighed, shaking his head. “That blasted treaty was a complete and utter farce. Too many of our best men were cashiered, and now the rest of us are left trying to run an army on a shoestring, with the French peering over our shoulders if we so much as twitch.”
Friedrich tried to ignore the tiny spark of hope in his breast. Perhaps all this meant that Hauptmann had some sort of work for him. “It was an honor to serve the Fatherland, sir,” he said carefully.
“Such as it is, these days,” Hauptmann growled, watching the buildings roll by. “Once, we were an empire, feared and respected by everyone. Now, we’re a republic.” He spat the last word, as if it tasted foul. “Run by men who wouldn’t know what to do with a bayonet if it was stuck in their guts. And meanwhile the British and French look on our poor Fatherland like it’s their own private playground and treat our people like whores. It’s a disgrace.”
“Yes, sir,” Friedrich said, his stomach knotting at the general’s comment. “As you said, a disgrace.”
“Hmmph.” The general waved a weary hand. “Well, what’s done is done. All we can do now is help Germany through these difficult times. Which brings me to you, von Bader. I was at Heaven and Hell last night. I noticed you over on Heaven’s side.” Hauptmann gave him a shrewd look. “I didn’t know you could afford that kind of entertainment.”
Friedrich worked to keep his expression neutral. “I can’t. I’m working as a guide and translator for an American couple,” he lied.
“Ah, of course. And this couple, would they be named Tracy by any chance?”
The second shock of the night made his skin prickle. “You know them?”
The general snorted. “Not personally, but I know who they are. But it’s a happy coincidence that you’re working for them, von Bader. That could turn out to be very useful.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“I’m sure you’re aware that Fräulein Tracy and her fiancé are here on business, ja? She’s representing her uncle’s company, which wants to buy out certain German manufacturing companies. Perhaps you overheard them discussing this at dinner, or during drinks?”
Friedrich’s cheeks flamed. He wasn’t about to tell a former commanding officer what they’d actually been discussing. “Yes, sir,” he muttered.
“Excellent. Needless to say, certain officials in the War Ministry are concerned about losing valuable resources and manufacturing centers to foreign companies. Especially as those resources have a certain military value and would be better used here at home, rebuilding what was lost during the war.” The general’s face was in shadow, but the passing streetlights lit his eyes with streaking glints. “Do you understand my meaning, von Bader?”
Friedrich did. The German military had taken the Treaty of Versailles and the forced reduction of their ranks as a deeply personal insult to their national pride. He could still remember the fierce arguments in the officers’ messes about continuing the fight despite the cease-fire, taking it to the victors and making them work for their so-called “peace.” “The War Ministry wants to rebuild the army?”
“Well, some of them do. Some of them are content to roll onto their backs and expose their bellies.” Hauptman made a disgusted noise. “Luckily those dogs tend to be in the minority. Those of us who are loyal to the Fatherland need to know everything we can about companies like Tracy Electrics. That way, we can make sure that any business arrangements made with German companies will be of benefit to Germany.” A nod towards Friedrich. “Which is where you come in, my boy. One of Tracy Electric’s targets is Schoengraff Metals. You may have heard of them?”
“Of course, sir.” Schoengraff had supplied the German weapons manufacturers with armor-grade steel and iron during the war.
“Unfortunately, Schoengraff suffered a heavy number of losses during the war,” Hauptmann said. “Bombed factories, loss of raw materials, lack of workers, et cetera. Now that the war is over and they have access to their mines in Africa again, they’re trying to rebuild their infrastructure and expand into rare minerals mining. To do this, they need the help of foreign manufacturing companies that can provide financing. One of these companies is Tracy Electrics. Fräulein Tracy has apparently been sent here as the personal representative of William Tracy to oversee negotiations.” He shook his head. “Which is ridiculous, of course. Tracy’s lapdog Arthur Carslyle is running the negotiations, just as he always has. I assume he’s grooming Fräulein Tracy’s fiancé to take over for him.”
Friedrich tried to picture the fun-loving Sam spending hours in a conference room. “I wouldn’t discount Fräulein Tracy so quickly, sir,” he said. “She’s very…unusual.”
Hauptman shrugged. “Unusual or not, she is still just a woman, and a woman’s place is in the home, not in the board room, nicht wahr? Even the Americans aren’t foolish enough to allow such things.” He dismissed the Fräulein with a shake of the head. “Now, the War Ministry wants to know Tracy Electrics’s plans for Schoengraff, and you are ideally placed to obtain this information. We need you to find out as much as you can about what they want to do with the company, if they’re trying to buy it outright or partner with it, and how much money they’re willing to spend.” He leaned over, fixing Friedrich with a gimlet gaze. “Will you assist the Fatherland in this, colonel?”
Friedrich stopped the automatic “yes,” his ingrained instinct to obey a superior officer slamming up against memories of his recent poverty. “If I help you, and they find out, they can fire me at any moment,” he said. “What do I get in return for my assistance?”
Hauptmann stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “I’m to assume that the gratitude of the War Ministry and your country means nothing to you?”
Friedrich ignored the wintry tone and the even colder disapproval, although he knew it would eat at him later. “I have a sister-in-law and a nephew to support, sir,” he said. “I have to think of them. If I get you the information you need, what do I get in return?”
The general slowly nodded. “Yes, I suppose you have a point. I can’t get you back into the army, but I have connections with Schoengraff. I can get you a manager’s post at one of their refineries near Ingolstadt, and a salary commensurate to the one you received as an active colonel. You should be able to support your family quite handily on that.”
Friedrich ignored the mild contempt in Hauptmann’s voice, buoyed by a sudden, aching wave of hope. The offer was dizzying; a real job, a safe home out of Berlin for Lilli and Rudi, respect and security.
Hauptmann gave him a thin smile. “So, what do you say, colonel?”
He understood the vital need for intelligence during wartime, and how spies could provide information that turned the tide of a battle. But this was no longer wartime, and he felt uncomfortable with the idea of spying on the Fräulein. She had demanded honesty from him, and offered blessed respite in return. Taking business information from her and passing it on to Hauptmann and his cronies at the War Ministry made something in his soul ache with shame.
But there was Rudi and Lilli. They were more important than anything. And in the end, he thought with some bitterness, he was only a hired whore to the Fräulein and Sam. They would leave soon enough, taking their money with them. He was the one who had to stay in Berlin. And a real job outside of the city, where Rudi could grow healthy and turn into the sturdy little boy he was meant to be? How could he pass something like that up?
He ignored the twinging of his conscience. All he was doing was making sure that Schoengraff and Germany got information that would allow them to cut the best deal possible with Tracy Electrics. The Fräulein would still get what she came for, just at a somewhat higher price. Surely there was no dishonor in that.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
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Mid Week Tease: Bully Boys #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! Here’s the last teaser from my short story “Bully Boys.” I know some of the references may not make sense unless you’ve read the rest of the story, but trust me, Hamm deserves what’s coming to him in spades.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
After accepting a tearful hug from his new housekeeper, a somewhat less tearful but much more enthusiastic hug from Maggie, and a solemn clap on the shoulder from Willie, Arthur sat down with his new pack for a cold evening repast that was far more enjoyable than anything he’d ever received from his former landlady. Once he cleaned his plate, he made his excuses and left the Staffs at the dining table, heading upstairs to Gunner’s bedroom.
My bedroom as well, now. He went to the wash basin and touched the water jug, surprised to find it still warm. Lizzie must have had every confidence that Gunner would bring her daughter home.
And now he’s out there killing her common law husband. Oddly enough, it didn’t disturb Arthur as much as he thought it would. Jimmy Hamm was a heartless scoundrel to sell a young girl like Maggie into brutal slavery. And while Gunner would undoubtedly be ruthless about his dispatch, Arthur suspected that the werebeast would also make it quick and clean.
Finish it, then, and come home to me.
Suddenly weary, Arthur stripped and poured some of the water into the washbasin, giving himself a quick, efficient scrub. He lingered when he reached his groin, cupping the sensitive flesh there and remembering Gunner’s mouth on it. I want to do that to him. I want to kiss him all over, lick his member, suck it, swallow his seed. I want him to bugger me and mark me from within.
I want him. So much.
His shaft began to thicken. Entertained by his own daring fantasies, he dried himself and crawled under the covers. One hand remained wrapped around his member, but only to hold it close. He wouldn’t allow himself release. That would come at Gunner’s touch or not at all.
He hadn’t realized he’d drifted off to sleep until he woke to feel another, larger hand caressing his hip. A long, warm body stretched out behind him.
“You fell asleep,” Gunner said in his ear, low and amused.
Arthur flushed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to—”
His werebeast chuckled. “Don’t be sorry, love. I’m glad you had some sleep. Means you’ll be awake for this.”
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Mid Week Tease: Adira’s Mate #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! This week I’m at RT 2015, so today I’ll be teasing you with Adira’s Mate by April Zyon. Take it away, April!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
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.
Story 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.
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Mid Week Tease: Bully Boys #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Wednesday! Today’s teaser is a not-so-sexy but important section from my short story “Bully Boys.” In it, we finally get to see Gunner the Alpha in action with pack trouble and summoned with his new mate to see London’s Seer. Welcome to your new world, Arthur.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Arthur jumped when Gunner let out a curse worthy of the saltiest tar who ever sailed. “Both of us?” he growled. “You sure?”
“You think I’d get one of ‘er messages wrong?” came the offended reply. “Both of you, as soon as possible, if you please.”
Gunner pounded his fist against the door frame, but with no real heat. He came back to the bed and started pulling on his discarded clothes, glaring at Arthur as he did so.
“Seer?” Arthur asked.
Gunner opened his mouth, then shut it again. Fishing in his trousers, he pulled out a pocket knife. Arthur stiffened in sudden fear, then relaxed when it cut through the ropes binding him to the bed.
Gunner paused for a moment, running a hand through Arthur’s sandy hair. “You need to get up and dressed,” he said gruffly.
Arthur sat up, comfortable now in his nudity, and gave the room a pointed look. “And my clothes are where?”
The great dark head shook at him. “You can’t wear those fancy togs where we’re going,” Gunner said, going to the armoire and rummaging through it. “Here, these should fit you.”
He tossed a shirt, an old but serviceable jacket, and somewhat ragged wool trousers to Arthur, who was still boggled at the description of his inexpensive suit as “fancy togs.” The solicitor held up the clothing. Damn his beautiful blue eyes, Gunner had judged the sizes well. “Where are we going?”
“To see the Seer in a bit. First, though, I’ve got pack business to handle.” Gunner grimaced. “You may as well sit in on it.”
****
Arthur found out what pack business meant when he saw the woman waiting downstairs in what must have been the brothel’s parlor. Thin and washed-out, her eyes were reddened and dried tear tracks could still be seen on her cheeks. A young boy clung to her dark skirts, giving Arthur a fearful look.
The woman bobbed a wobbly curtsey as Gunner walked in, keeping her gaze submissively on the floorboards. “Alpha, I come here beggin’ your help,” she said formally after a gulp.
Gunner took a seat on one of the brocade chairs. “Is it Jimmy, then?”
The woman steeled herself and nodded. “He’s been drinking these last few weeks, worse than I ever seen before. And then today he comes home reekin’ of gin and tells me he…he sold my Maggie.” She sobbed once, the sound harsh in the parlor. “Said she was old enough to earn her keep, and it would be one less mouth to feed!”
Arthur saw a grim expression cross Gunner’s face. “Where did he sell her, Lizzie?”
A fresh gout of tears coursed down the woman’s sallow cheeks. “To Mr. Day, down the goblin market. And you know what he does with his girls!”
From Gunner’s reaction and the furious look on Willie’s face, Arthur assumed that Mr. Grey didn’t simply hire girls for employment. “He didn’t have leave from you to do this, did he?” Gunner said.
Lizzie shook her head, lank hair flying into a halo. “We may be poor as church mice, but I’d never sell me own blood to Mr. Day!” she cried.
As quickly as it appeared, the high emotion retreated into despair. “Please, Alpha, help her. I’ll pay what I can, whatever you want—”
Gunner held up one large hand, cutting her off. “No one sells one of the pack to Day. I’ll get your Maggie back for you,” he said quietly. “But as of tonight, you’ll be a widow. That’s the price.”
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Mid Week Tease: Bully Boys #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! Today’s teaser is another section from my M/M short story “Bully Boys.” Naked but for a blanket, tied to a bed, and painfully aroused by the Alpha who grabbed him off a London back alley, solicitor Arthur Finter is about to get one heck of a visual treat.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
His captor picked up a smaller flannel that had been hidden within the towel’s folds and soaked it in the bowl of water. As Arthur watched he proceeded to wash himself, slowly running the cloth over his chest and arms and coating his skin with a sheen of water. All the time he kept his gaze on Arthur, as if daring him to look away.
Arthur couldn’t. The prosaic activity had somehow become the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. He licked his lips unconsciously as the flannel went back to the bowl for more warm water, then resumed its trip over his captor’s lean, powerful body.
He wanted to be the one washing the werebeast. In the safety of his own mind, beneath the outrage and ignominy of his current position, he could admit that to himself. He wanted to run the warm, wet flannel over firm muscles and pale skin, wipe away the sweat and dirt of the day, make his captor clean as a newborn.
And then…
The breath died in Arthur’s throat as the werebeast’s hand dropped to his groin, lazily washing the proud flesh there. The shapely cock began to rise, encouraged by the stroking cloth.
His own cock throbbed like it was on fire, and he could feel droplets of wetness dampening the head. A sudden image of the werebeast pulling down the blanket and crawling over him to mouth his foreskin and lick at the wetness made him moan.
His captor smiled, but said nothing. He finished rinsing his legs, turning slightly to expose a beautifully curved buttock with a muscled hollow in the side, then tossed the flannel in the bowl. “That’s better,” he said as he sauntered to the bed, resting a bent knee on the mattress. The movement made his now rigid cock bob, as if gesturing to Arthur.
He gasped as the blanket was yanked unceremoniously from his body, revealing his own cockstand. His captor’s eyes darkened as he studied it, head tilting to the side in a decidedly canine manner.
“You’re perfect,” he said softly. “Absolutely perfect.”
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Mid Week Tease: Bully Boys #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! Today’s teaser comes straight from Much Humping Upon the Moors, er, Victorian England, and is part of my short story “Bully Boys.” This continues on from last week’s tease, and Arthur is about to find out that no matter how much he protests, his body has other ideas about his sexy captor.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Arthur’s organ twitched, hardening at the man’s low, luring tone. “I’m not your mate. I’m not your anything,” he insisted, wishing he could bring his legs together or at least raise his knees for camouflage. “You’re not even human!”
A flare of anger made his captor’s eyes darken. “I think and reason, just the same as you,” he growled. “Only I can do it in two shapes. That’s more than I can say for you.”
He stood and picked up the jug, pouring hot water into the bowl. “And I have the sense not to wander the alleyways by myself like a foolish pup,” he said, putting the jug down with a thump. “What were you thinking, walking by yourself like that? And not even a penknife on you for defense.”
Arthur blinked at the utterly unexpected scolding. “I was simply trying to get home,” he said defensively. “It wasn’t my blasted fault there was a fire on High Holborn.”
The man grunted. “Well, stay out of the alleys unless I’m with you.”
“You’re not — why are you not listening to me? We are not mates, and I have no idea…why…”
He trailed off as his captor slung the towel onto the bed, stripping off his shirt and revealing the beautifully muscled torso Arthur had seen all too briefly in the alley. Trousers and undergarments followed, revealing that the rest of the man’s body was just as lean and muscular. Arthur tried to look away, but his gaze was drawn to the irresistible sight of the werebeast’s beautifully formed cock, nestled in a halo of black curly hair.
He swallowed. “If you lay even one finger on me, I shall have you arrested,” he said, appalled at the breathlessness in his tone. “Don’t think I won’t!”
The man glanced down at the now-tented blanket over Arthur’s groin and smirked. “That cockstand you’re sporting says otherwise, Mr. Finter. But have it your way.”
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Fabulous Friday Reads: Footwear and Fantasy
Let’s kick off this lovely weekend with Footwear and Fantasy, a wonderfully sexy take on the fairy tale “The Elves and the Shoemaker” from J.J. Lore, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, J.J.!
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.
Story 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.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand
About J.J. Lore
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.
Mid Week Tease: Bully Boys #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Hello, darlings! Today’s teaser comes straight from Much Humping Upon the Moors, er, Victorian England, and is part of my short story “Bully Boys.” In it, mild-mannered solicitor Arthur Finter takes an ill-advised short cut through an alley and comes face to snout with a gorgeous Alpha shifter who announces that Arthur is his mate, much to the solicitor’s shock. What happens then? You’ll just have to buy the anthology when it comes out from Evernight!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
When Arthur awoke, he was tucked up in bed. The awful scene in the alley drifted through his memory, dim now from sleep. It was just a nightmare. Oh, thank goodness.
He tried to turn over, only to be stopped as his arms jerked unexpectedly against restraints.
His eyes flew open. He was in a small bedroom lit only by a coal fire in a blackened grate. A row of hooks on the far wall held coats and a collection of what Arthur assumed were shirts, and an armoire hulked in the corner. A plain wooden table stood next to the bed, bare of anything except a candlestick with an unlit candle.
Looking up, he saw a length of hemp rope had been tied around his right wrist and woven with very little slack through tarnished brass that was not his own plain white enameled headboard. The other end of the rope had been attached to his left wrist, effectively pinning his arms wide.
He flexed his feet and found that his legs were bound as well, with the same amount of slack given to his arms. To make matters worse, someone had removed his clothes before tying him to the bed and covering him with a thin blanket.
“Help!” he shouted. “Please, I need help!”
The door opened, and the handsome werebeast from the alley sauntered in, carrying a wash bowl and water jug. He’d taken the time to rinse the blood from his face and slick his hair back, and an old, threadbare towel hung casually over one shoulder. “Someone’s up, I see,” he said in a strong Northern accent.
Arthur felt his belly quiver, but gave the man his best glower. “Untie me immediately, sir!”
“Can’t do that. At least, not just yet.” The man approached the bed, giving him an appreciative look. Arthur belatedly remembered his state, and was grateful for the cheap blanket that protected his modesty. “I suppose you want to know why you’re here.”
“Indeed I do,” Arthur declared, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. “I am a solicitor, sir, and if you do not untie me this moment you will find yourself in grave trouble with the law.”
The man shrugged. “Won’t be the first time. Doubt it’ll be the last.” He moved to the side of the bed where the table stood and deposited the jug and bowl on it, then sat down on the mattress. That blue gaze trailed over him dispassionately, but there was as flicker of something else as well, something that tugged at Arthur’s senses and caused his breath to come faster.
The man reached out and grabbed the edge of the blanket, dragging it down to just below Arthur’s waist. The solicitor flinched as the cool air of the room hit his skin, causing his nipples to pebble up in a most embarrassing way.
“You’re trim. I like that in a bloke,” the man said conversationally. “Don’t spend all of your time on your arse, do you?”
Arthur gaped at the impropriety. “I — how — that’s none of your business!”
“Oh, but it is my business.” His captor sounded oddly amused about that. “Everything about you, Mr. Arthur Finter, is my business. Now that we’re to be mates and all.”
The bizarre comment would have made Arthur laugh in other circumstances. “If you mean we’re to be friends, sir, I can assure you that I feel no such friendship with anyone who ties me to a bed and terrorizes me in such a manner.”
The man tilted his head to one side, and Arthur was forcibly reminded of his other shape. “You’re tied to my bed to make sure you don’t run away,” his captor said. “I know you saw what happened in the alley, and I’ll explain it in good time. As for terrorizing you, it wasn’t what I had in mind for us tonight.”
He reached out and touched one of the tawny nubs on Arthur’s chest, tracing a tiny circle on it. The caress caused an indecent zing of pleasure to arrow down to the solicitor’s groin.
“Thought so,” the man said in satisfaction. “You yearn for the touch of a man, Mr. Finter. I’ll be that man for you tonight and ever after. We’re mates, you and me.”
“M—” The other, more marital meaning of the word burst in on him, the calumny he’d hoped never to hear addressed to himself. “Are you implying that I’m a, a filthy sodomite?”
“Implying?” His captor laughed shortly. “I’m saying it full out. You’re as queer as I am.”
“That is a foul lie!”
“The bond don’t make mistakes,” the man said, caressing Arthur’s nipple again and causing more of those horribly delicious sensations. “It chose you because you wanted a man in your bed, between your thighs, doing unholy things to you.” He smiled, then, straight white teeth unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before among the London poor, or its upper classes for that matter. “So I’ll tup you tonight, and put my mark on you. I’ll give you the pleasure you’ve craved for so long. Then you’ll understand.”
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