Category Archives: Sunday Shoutout
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Doris O’Connor, whose hot new BDSM menage romance Her Husband’s Army Buddy is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Doris!
Thanks so much for hosting my new release today. Her Husband’s Army Buddy is out now, and the first in a new series called McLeod Security.
Like so many of my stories, this one started as a flash on my blog. Little did I know then, that it would evolve into a series. When I expanded the flash, it was to be a short story in honor of one of my reader’s birthdays. The Sandy in the story J
As I wrote it took on a life of its own, side characters popped up demanding their story to be told, and hey presto a new series was born. Book two is already completed and the next two are in the planning stages, so watch this space as they.
I should add that all stories will be Standalones, loosely connected through McLeod Security, some darker than others, with different pairings and D/s dynamics, and familiar characters will pop up throughout.
There should only ever be two people in a marriage…
Sandy McLeod has been perfectly happy in her D/s relationship with her husband Zane for the last ten years. Until his old army buddy re-enters their life.
Sean Manson is altogether too handsome, too virile, far too much of anything. The man oozes dominance, danger, and leashed aggression, and Sandy can’t help but respond to him. Neither can Zane. He walked away from Sean once. Now, he’s back, long suppressed feelings bubble to the surface and cannot be denied. When Sandy agrees to a threesome, happiness seems within their grasp. Sean’s demons, however, threaten to destroy everything they hold dear.
Sean never meant to come between husband and wife, let alone hurt either one of them. Surely, the only solution is to walk away from them both. When you’re the missing piece, however, walking is simply not an option.
“We need to get her out of this dress, Sir.”
Hearing her husband address Sean like that gave her a secret thrill, the likes of which she wouldn’t have thought possible. To know that she was at the mercy of two Doms, one of which was an unknown entity made this whole thing extra exciting. Whether it was the perceived danger Sean represented, the not knowing how far he would take things, her befuddled brain couldn’t quite figure out. She stopped thinking altogether when Zane unzipped her dress at the back, followed by the snap on her bra and slid his hands around her ribcage to cup her freed breasts.
“Let her go a minute so we can lose these contraptions.” Zane’s grumbled command pitched her need even higher.
Sean stopped kissing her, the pressure on her wrists ceased, and in the next instant she was naked, barring her soaked through thong, hold-up stockings, and the heels she still wore.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Sean’s deep voice showed his admiration of her body as much as his perusal of her as he stepped back and let his hot gaze roam all over. “Spread her for me, so that I can look my fill of our sweet cunt.”
The dirty words turned her on almost as much as her husband’s immediate response.
“Your wish is my command, Sir.”
Zane kicked her legs apart and held her wrists firmly behind her back. Sean, in the meantime, shrugged out of his shirt, and kicked his shoes and trousers off with a speed that left her dizzy. As did the size of his erection straining against the damp confines of his boxers. To know she’d done that to him was a heady aphrodisiac indeed, as was her husband’s erection pushing against her ass.
Sean divested himself of his boxers, too, and she gasped when his thick shaft bobbed up to his navel. She’d been right. He was huge. While his girth wasn’t as thick as Zane’s he had a good half inch in length, and Zane wasn’t exactly small in that department.
Heavily veined, Sean’s magnificent cock looked ready to explode all over again, the broad tip already glistening in pre-cum.
She wanted to taste him so badly, yet Zane’s grip on her wrists stopped her from reaching out. As though Sean had read her thoughts, he groaned and, taking his shaft in his hand, pumped a few times along its length.
“Soon, you get to suck my cock, sweet girl, but for now, I need to taste you properly.” With that he got to his knees. As tall as he was that action brought his head level with her breasts, and he wasted no time in taking full advantage of that fact. Sean held each breast in his large hand, and grinning up at her pushed them together, before he took both nipples into his mouth and sucked hard.
Sandy tugged at Zane’s restraints, and her knees would have buckled had Zane not pushed his thigh between her legs to keep her upright. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and she gave herself over to the intense sensations Sean’s talented tongue subjected her to. Her nipples had always been sensitive, a livewire straight to her clit, and with the dual sensation of Sean’s sucks and the gentle friction Zane’s leg created between her thighs, she climbed the rungs of arousal in record time. Her hips bucked against her husband’s leg as she sought to increase the friction she needed to go over.
A sharp bite to her shoulder coincided with Sean releasing his hold on her nipples with an audible pop.
“No coming without your Sirs’ permission, baby girl, or we’ll leave you hanging.”
Sure enough, Zane withdrew his thigh, while Sean grasped her hips to keep her steady. He kissed his way down her soft belly, interspersing kisses with little bites that left her hovering on the precipice. He bypassed her pussy and, flinging one of her legs over his shoulder, nibbled along the edge of her stocking.
“Hmm, as much as I love these, they need to come off. Look at me, pet.”
Sandy’s eyes flew open, and the sight of Sean between her legs made another gush of moisture trickle past the elastic of her thong. He licked that trail away, and she groaned.
“Please, I need to, please.”
Grinning, Sean blew a stream of hot air across her still covered slit, and her clit contracted in need.
“What do you need, sweet Sandy? Do you need to come?” He nudged his nose along her vulva, inhaling deeply, and Sandy jerked. Not that it got her very far because Zane’s hold on her wrists never lessened, and Sean’s fingers dug into her hips with so much pressure, she would surely be left with bruises. The thought of carrying his marks made breathing even more difficult, and she groaned her reply.
“Please, so close, I … God…”
She wasn’t entirely sure what pleas were spilling from her lips, and in truth she was far too gone to care. With Zane’s harsh breaths in her ear, and Sean’s dirty words she was a goner.
“So very eager. I can see your little clit push against this lace. You’re close, aren’t you, sweet thing? Such a turn-on. What do you think, Zane, should we let her come or torture her some more?”
Sean let go of her hips briefly to tear her thong clean off of her, and then he looked his fill.
“So very wet, and pink. Your hole is clenching, begging to be filled. What do you want in there, pet? My tongue? My fingers? My cock? Or Zane’s? Tell me, or I’ll leave you hanging and fuck your husband instead.”
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About the Author
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Stalk her in these places:
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Lynn Turner, whose spectacular new ballet romance story Pas de Deux is now available from Amazon and other online retailers of romantic fiction. Take it away, Lynn!
They were never meant to be perfect…their pieces wouldn’t fit together that way.
It’s said the artist is born of a damaged soul…
Wilhelmina Allende is a prima ballerina. When tragedy turns her beloved Paris into a gilded cage, she jumps at the chance to work with one of the most prolific choreographers she’s ever seen. But Zack’s style is way out of her comfort zone. So is his teaching method. And his humor. And his everything. He’s a charming little connard. It’s hard not to like him. Merde. What has she gotten herself into?
Zachary Coen’s first musical is opening on Broadway. Much like his life, it’s anything but conventional, so hiring Mina is simply out of the question. She’s too…classical. Too perfect. She’s all wrong for the role. Then he meets her in person and sees her cracks. Her broken pieces. How unique and beautiful each one is. And he can’t help but notice how her edges seem to fit his…perfectly.
Just when teaming up seems to be working, the monsters they’ve kept hidden threaten to rip it all apart.
The warehouse in Brooklyn housed three massive dance floors crammed with hundreds of sweating bodies. The bouncers took one look at them and let them skip the line. Walking through the doors, Mina was hit with thick, sultry heat. It was dark. Very dark, but for flashes of strobe lights alighting on wall-to-wall bodies. They moved like they were in a trance, the bass thumping so hard, it shook the building and seemed to beat from within their ribs. Clutching at Zack’s arm, another nocturnal animal bumped into her, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head in pure ecstasy.
She tugged Zack’s arm until his ear bent to her lips. “Are these people on drugs?”
His body shook with laughter. “Better than drugs, petite. This atmosphere is like a high. You forget about how you look or what you’re doing. The music goes right through you and you just move.”
She wasn’t sure how they were able to move—the floor was sticky. Watching a trio of dancers doing something that looked illegal, she tried not to think about the biological hazards stuck to the bottom of her Italian leather shoes.
She squinted against the purple and blue light. “This place should come with an epilepsy warning!”
A flash of purple lit his face, highlighting his freshly shaven jawline, the sensual curve of his lips, and she completely lost her train of thought. Her eyes trailed his body slowly, progressing a little more each time a strobe lit him up again. He looked sexy and dangerous in this light, like a demigod in all black.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” sexy demigod’s lips asked.
Her mouth suddenly went dry. “Not the word I’d use. I think I need a drink.”
“Uh-uh, no alcohol. This is homework. No cheating.”
“But I’m French!”
“Nothing I can do about that.” He shrugged his shoulder against her retaliatory slap and led them through the sea of bodies.
Stopping somewhere in the middle, where writhing bodies pressed against them on all sides, he brought his hands to her hips and pulled her to him. Instinctively, her arms went around his shoulders, holding onto him, she convinced herself, for fear of slipping into the human sea. Besides, it was the only way she could hear.
“No mirrors, petite.” He gave her an encouraging squeeze. “No one’s looking at you but me.”
Then he looked at her.
Bon Dieu, did he look at her.
He studied her body like a map of the cosmos was hidden beneath her skin.
There was nothing lustful in his eyes, only wonder—a desire to be completely attuned with her and the way she moved. It was sensual by nature, in the way it made her feel stripped down to her being—her very existence—and only he could see. It made her feel sexy and fearless…and safe.
Staring into the shadows of his face, she lifted her arms above her head to do as they would. The bassline came at her from every direction, throbbing through her veins, exiting from the points of her fingers and toes. The darkness made her bold, and a new energy rose inside her. The atmosphere became heady, making her more drunk on it with every breath, until she moved her entire body like a boneless addict chasing the next beat.
For a full phrase, he continued to watch her, and there was something in his expression, in the intensity of his eyes, that made her lightheaded: she was the Mina he’d been waiting for, the one he’d seen in Paris beneath the façade of the makeup, the fancy dress and the grand chandeliers of the Palais Garnier…the one who had cried on his shoulder and come apart in his arms. Comfortable in her own skin.
Winding her body, she slinked her arms like reeds in a slow breeze, meeting his eyes with every flash of light. He rubbed his cheek along hers, following her movement with his hands, feeling every muscle beneath thin fabric and sensitized skin. He stroked her stomach with his palm, and she sucked it in hard.
“Sorry, petite…” He kissed her cheek, then seemed to indulge himself a moment, running his hands along her hips until they settled on her waist. “That’s not what this is, what we came here for.”
She melted at the sincerity in his voice, in the warmth of his touch. “What did we come here for?”
His grin spread against her cheek. “Trust falls.”
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About the Author
Lynn Turner is dedicated to writing inclusive stories that explore what it means to be imperfectly human. She is convinced she would have made a great Gilmore Girl, that writing about herself in third-person is weird, and that Colin Firth is the best Mr. Darcy (don’t fight her on this). When she isn’t writing and adulting, she’s tackling her monstrous TBR list, TV-binging, traveling, or watching old Samantha Brown travelogue videos and wishing she had her job. She and her husband share their home in California with their two extraordinary children and their sometimes cat, Bowie.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to L.M. Spangler, whose new Romance on the Go™ story My Ex-Partner’s Ex-Wife is now out from Evernight Publishing. Take it away, L.M.!
Ridley Asher found herself unemployed. Jack Sterling needed an administrative assistant. No brainer, right?
Ridley became Sterling Motor’s administrative assistant…and the object of Jack’s desire. He had no idea the attraction was mutual.
After an incident involving her ex-husband, they grow closer, both mentally and physically. Little do they know, her ex has no intentions of letting her go.
Can they explore a life together even though she’d once belonged to someone else?
“Thanks, Jack. I know this might be awkward for you,” Ridley Asher said. “You never hung around us much.”
She had no idea. Jack’s libido went into overdrive every time he’d see her. Even in the presence of Dean Asher. Ridley was temptation with a capital T. Curvaceous, stunning, exotic. A man’s fantasy.
And his ex-partner’s ex-wife.
“It’s no big deal, Ridley. You need a job and Sterling Motors needs an administrative assistant. You win, and I definitely win. I’m organized when it comes to restoring cars, but I can’t organize this business to save my life.” He’d just walk around the shop with a raging woody for eight or so hours a day.
“Umm. Wha-what about Dean?” Her ocean-blue eyes searched Jack’s. A frown turned her full lips downward.
Her response bothered him. Ridley deserved to smile. “Dean doesn’t play into this. This is purely a business decision. You have the skill set I need and you understand the restoration process. You literally know the nuts and bolts of a job.” He leaned back in his beat-up leather desk chair, elbows on the arms, and steepled his fingers. “I will let Dean know I hired you. Just to avoid any surprises.”
She nodded. “Fair enough,” she admitted, wringing her fingers. “I hope I don’t put you in a bad situation, but I appreciate you hiring me. I can’t believe the firm closed down. We were in the green every quarter I worked there.”
“I’m not sure, but their loss is my gain.” He rose from his chair, reaching his full height of six-feet-two. He leaned his head from side to side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck. “I know this is spur of the moment, but can you start today? You’re already here.”
“I could, but I have Dozer with me.”
A brow rose. “Dozer?” A large piece of construction equipment popped into his mind.
A soft smile graced her face, adding alluring beauty to an already exquisite face. “My very large yellow Labrador retriever.”
He gave a mental eye roll. Dean had mentioned that she couldn’t find a man so she’d gotten a dog instead. Jack seriously doubted she had trouble finding men. His mechanics and metal workers stopped whatever they were doing and watched her walk to Jack’s office. A magnet had nothing on her.
“He’s welcome here. Three of my men bring their dogs with them. My only rule is they have to wear a fire retardant vest when they are around sparks or blow torches.”
“Again, fair enough.” She rose from the chair opposite Jack’s desk and maneuvered around the beat-up metal piece of furniture. She laid her hand on his arm and stood on her tiptoes. “Thank you, Jack. I’m glad Denny gave me the heads up on the job.” Her lips brushed his ever so softly, probably not to entice, but to show her gratitude.
Every nerve ending in Jack Sterling’s body roared to life. She returned to her chair and leaned over to pick up her purse. Her jeans hugged her heart-shaped bottom to perfection. Erotic pictures filled his mind.
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About the Author
LM Spangler lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, three dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and some fish. Her son serves his country in the US Navy.
She is a fan of college football and any kind of baseball and likes to watch the Discovery, Velocity, HGTV, DIY, Science, and any channel showing a college football game. She also watches old game shows like $25,000 Pyramid and Match Game.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to London Saint James, whose new audiobook Forever & Always is now out. Take it away, London!
Hi! Thank you so much for having me on your blog today to chat about my brand new audiobook baby, Forever & Always. This is book two of my Two Hearts, One Soul Duet and continues where Always, book one left off, completing Winter (my heroines) story.
One of the things readers/listeners ask me quite often is where does the inspiration for my stories come from? My answer; from many things—dreams, music, art, conversations, places I’ve been, etc… But when it comes to this duet, my inspiration came from a question to myself after seeing a documentary about kids who clearly remembered events, people, and places they shouldn’t have known about and the belief of past lives.
What was the question(s) I asked myself?
What if there was such a thing as soul mates? One person you were meant to love? From there came, what if we met our soul mate, lost them, and found them again years later? Is soul transfer or reincarnation a possibility? Can love conquer death?
Now, it’s your turn to ponder. Is it possible? Do you believe in soul mates?
From international bestselling author London Saint James comes the final installment of Two Hearts, One Soul, a breathtaking story of two people who have always been connected, forever tied together by fate, by destiny, by unbreakable love.
With the media hell-bent on exposing Winter’s once private life, Cayden will do anything to protect her. But there’s more than just the voracious paparazzi conspiring against them.
Involved in an unprecedented web of strange events, and wound in a string of lies about to break with devastating consequences, Winter must battle ghosts from her past that threaten to harm the man she loves.
Faced with a choice she always knew would be inevitable, and a secret of her own, can the fairytale Winter’s been living with Cayden beat the odds of their reality and really come true?
Listen to a sample:
A breeze blew into the bedroom from the open balcony doors—crisp and clean. The details of winter lingered with just a hint of spring to come, giving the warm room a punch of coolness as early morning sun slanted across the foot of the bed, highlighting the sheets in disarray.
My gaze shifted over to Cayden, sitting at the writing desk, phone in hand, speaking to someone about his upcoming film shoot. When his current film was done, he would be heading to Vancouver.
Would I be going? I didn’t know.
Leaning my hip against the doorjamb of the bathroom, I watched him, how his body moved—the muscles that flexed in his arm when he picked up a script from the desk. He was quietly confident, his movements fluid. No doubt, Cayden was something to watch even in such mundane things.
So very much like Austin.
Walking quietly out of the bathroom, I went to him, not wishing to disturb him, but desperately wanting to touch the man of my dreams. In many ways, he still seemed unreal to me, as if he were an optical phenomenon that could liquefy into hazy lines of heat and disappear.
With the phone to his ear, Cayden turned and looked at me, his sapphire gaze roaming from the hair piled in a messy bun atop my head, to my bubble-gum-pink-painted toenails before he smiled.
My heart thrummed.
Reaching out, he pulled me onto his lap where I willingly went, and picked up a pen from beside my laptop. Then, he crooked his head, holding the handset to the cordless in place against his shoulder to free his other hand and took a hold of mine.
Curious, I wondered what he was up to.
Cayden turned my hand over, palm side up. Swiped his fingers softly over my palm once. Wrote, I Love U, boldly across it. And then he curled my fingers closed, securing the words tight within the palm of my hand before he moved his hands from mine and took hold of the handset again.
My heart, not to mention my body, felt as if it would explode from the joy those three little words inspired. But the fact he wrote them, tattooed them onto my skin, was simply the sweetest thing he could have done.
“Go ahead and e-mail it. I’ll take a look,” he said to the person on the other end of the phone.
There was a pause. A buzzing followed by another pause.
“Sure. Not a problem,” Cayden replied, motioning for me to get up.
When I did, he adjusted the hard, straight-backed desk chair as well himself, and patted his lap.
Wearing nothing but a towel, I straddled him, chest to chest, and placed my arms around his strong shoulders. “Good?” I mouthed.
He winked his approval.
I played with the ends of his hair, feeling the impressive bulge beneath his designer sweatpants jerk against my bare core.
Blood raced through my veins with a start.
“Yes,” Cayden said into the phone. “I’m planning on it, but we can talk about that later.”
There was another pause, more humming sounds, then one of his hands went to my backside and squeezed. “Okay, thanks,” Cayden said.
He hadn’t been talking to me, but to whoever was on the phone.
“I will. Enjoy your breakfast.” He punched the end button and placed the handset into the receiver on the desk.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your call. I realize it was business,” I said.
“You can ‘disturb’ me anytime, baby.”
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About the Narrators
If you have had the pleasure of listening to any of Tor Thom and Charley Ongel’s auidobooks, you’ve probably said to yourself, “Wow, they really work well together.” Part of their great vocal chemistry is sheer talent, but the other part is most likely due to the fact they are together. Yep. Tor and Charley are happily married and have been narrating and producing audiobooks for the last year and a half, gathering hordes of fans. And, yes, I’m a fangirl of their work, too!
You can find out more here:
About the Author
I live in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with a sexy, alpha-male hero of my very own and a spoiled, bossy fat cat. The stories I write have hot, protective men who love their women, and strong—even if they don’t realize they are strong—women who love and protect their men. The road to their Happily Ever Afters may not be easy, and they may have a little bit of angst, but they’ll get everything worked out, do a lot of kissing, and have some sizzling moments along the way.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the marvelously prolific Doris O’Connor, whose smouldering new BDSM menage romance Her Best Friend’s Husband is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Doris!
Thank you so much for having me on your blog today with my new release Her Best Friend’s Husband. Like so many of my stories the idea for this one was first sparked by a picture and the resulting tease on my blog.
The picture was a naked guy in bed, holding a wedding cake. How did I arrive from that to this story? Well, my muse works in mysterious ways, lol. The story slowly evolved and it was stuck in limbo for a long time, until I got the urge one day to pick up that manuscript, and the rest is history, as they say. J
I had such fun writing these three, and the intricacies of their relationship as they try to work out whether three is indeed better than two. So much so, in fact, that I’m planning a follow up to their story in due course.
For now, enjoy seeing Naomi struggle with her feelings for her best friend and his husband. To quote her. “Who does that?”
Naomi, for sure, and when she realizes the guys feel the same way…. Well… you might need a fan or a glass of water when you’re reading some scenes.
Wedding organizer Naomi Young is not only head-over-heels in love with her best friend, she lusts after his husband.
Which is all kinds of wrong—isn’t it? Maybe not. Especially when she discovers the attraction is not as one-sided as she thought.
Dom Dawson Monroe has never had a problem going after what he wants. Both he and his new husband Josh Garrison enjoy a woman’s soft touch, so who better to satisfy that need than the one woman Josh is madly in love with? Time to claim them both as his submissives.
Convention be damned. Happiness is to be found in the soft curves of Naomi’s body, as long as they can convince her that this is forever. Only time will tell if the loving twosome can become an even more loving threesome.
“Perhaps the boy’s timing was unfortunate, but he would only owe you an apology if you hadn’t enjoyed that kiss. And we all know you did. I’d wager you’re getting wet just remembering those kisses. I know I got hard witnessing it. You two look hot together.”
Naomi gasped and opened her mouth as though to protest, but one knowing smirk from Dawson meant she simply shook her head.
“Nothing to say to that, little one?”
That question, delivered in that deep, dark, gravelly voice—his Dom voice, as Josh called it—appeared to have the same effect on Naomi, as it always did on him. Her breathing sped up, and she tensed. While he couldn’t see them from his position in his back seat, Josh bet his next orgasm that her nipples were hard little beacons signaling her arousal as clearly as the moan she swallowed. It made him wish this infernal journey was over already. He couldn’t wait to see his life-long friend squirm in pleasure under his and Dawson’s hands.
His Master’s gaze dropped down to Naomi’s cleavage and Dawson’s grin turned positively sinful.
“Never mind words, your body gives you away. If I touched you now, I’d find you sopping wet for us, wouldn’t I? In fact…”
Dawson reached across and placed his large hand on Naomi’s knee. She jumped but didn’t stop him as he proceeded to pull up the hem of her dress, exposing acres of dark skin. The contrast of Dawson’s much lighter hand on Naomi’s thighs was startling. Josh groaned, and Naomi crunched the gear again as the traffic started moving.
“Please, I … don’t.” She flung an imploring look at Master and gasped when his hand briefly disappeared between her ample thighs. Josh balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grasping his dick, because seeing Master’s hand reappear seconds later, his digits glistening with the unmistakable evidence of Naomi’s arousal … fuck, that was hot.
Dawson grinned, licked one digit, and then held his hand out for Josh.
“Here, have a taste.”
His amber eyes darkened when Josh grasped Master’s hand. Naomi’s sweet, addictive taste exploded on his taste buds, made ten times more potent because it was mixed in with the familiar scent of the man he loved to distraction. Josh’s balls drew up in response, and he grunted as his dick jerked inside his pants.
“No coming without my say-so, boy. Besides, you make a mess in our girl’s car you’ll be cleaning it up.”
“Oh my God, you two are too much. I’m sitting right here, you know. Are either one of you going to actually ask me what I think?”
Naomi’s voice had risen to a shrill screech in her agitation. It served as an ice-cold dampener to Josh’s arousal, and he hastily released Dawson’s hand.
“Of course, we do.” He threw an imploring glance at his husband, and Dawson gave a sharp nod. Relief flooded through Josh, at that non-verbal confirmation that his Master was more than willing to step in.
“None of this will work without your consent, and communication is vital. I just don’t appreciate you lying to yourself, or us, girl,” Dawson said.
Naomi tensed further, and Josh could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. Any minute now she would explode in anger.
“Look, Naomi, what Dawson is trying to say—”
“Spare me, Josh.” Naomi glared at him through the rearview mirror, and in a move that wouldn’t have been amiss in a Bond movie, she pulled into the fast lane and put her foot down, as the traffic cleared. Dawson’s hand braced on the dashboard again, and when he looked all set to say something, Josh put his hand on his Master’s shoulder. Dawson glanced back at him, and his brows drew together in a frown at Josh’s shake of the head. He heeded his request, however, and didn’t say anything, as Naomi broke every speed limit in the land in her haste to seemingly get away from them all.
An awkward silence fell between them all, only broken by Naomi’s soft curses when she had to slow down for the inevitable traffic, interspersed by Dawson’s sighs.
Oh, Master was pissed and getting more annoyed by the minute. One of Dawson’s unbreakable rules was the need for his submissives to stay safe. Unwittingly Naomi was breaking that rule, and Josh knew he had to say something to calm this situation down.
“Slow down, sweet cheeks. Getting us killed will not get us there any faster. I’m sorry okay.”
Naomi gasped and glanced at him through the mirror. The sheen of tears in her eyes was like a punch to the gut, and he put his hand on her shoulder. He took the fact that she didn’t immediately shrug him off as a good sign. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you, but I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’m not sorry this is out in the open. We should have probably had this conversation before I got married, but there never seemed a right time, and I’m a fucking coward, okay? I was too afraid to lose our friendship, but we could be so good together. All of us.”
Where To Buy
About the Author
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Stalk her in these places.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Lea Bronsen and her brilliant dark Viking romance Torn Avenger, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Lea!
Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog!
When asked what inspires me to write books, I usually say it’s something I’ve seen or heard, or I’ve been challenged to dig deeply into my imagination and come up with a crazy idea. This time, it was a premade cover. The moment I saw this dark, sensual, slightly homo erotic image of a half-naked man in a fur coat on an exquisitely colored background, I knew it had to be mine. I decided in which historical period to set the story – the obscure, mythical age of the Vikings – and the ensuing process plunged me into an exciting and not so foreign world where everyday heroes lived the same dramas and battled for the same values and desires as we do in modern society. I hope you enjoy the read!
As the second son of a Viking earl, Alv Gunnulfsen wasn’t meant to inherit a throne or avenge a murder. But when his brother is slain during a raid and their father dies of grief, Alv is expected to take command and claim the killer’s death. In a world of ruthless retaliation and strict social codes, he must also maneuver cleverly to protect a troublesome secret: his attraction for men.
Roeland van Dijk, a wealthy Dutch merchant settled in Norway, has done the unthinkable to protect his family — hacked off the head of a Viking rapist. The wrath of the blond savages will cost him his freedom, and possibly his own head… Unless he’s willing to accept the love of another man.
After a moment, Alv looked up again and almost gasped from the erotic vision in front of him. While shaving Roeland, he’d only seen his wet, hairy chest and stomach, but the handsome man moved to a kneeling position in the basin and washed his lower body. His stunning maleness made Alv hot and bothered. They had discussed, argued, shared personal details, and apologized to each other, but now, the seriousness of their conversation faded. The sight of Roeland’s cock bathing in white foam between his legs had Alv’s own cock jolt and press painfully against his pants.
Oh, Roeland attracted him on several levels—mental, emotional, and physical—and Alv longed to discover and develop more of everything with him. Hedin was an exciting lover, but nothing like what Roeland had the potential to be.
Speaking of Hedin, it’d been a surprise to see him again this morning, right after Elke left. He’d arrived in a terrible mood and refused to excuse his disappearance act. It was outrageous of a slave to come and go like that, but Alv had too much on his mind to think of punishing him.
For one, he worried about Roeland’s future. He’d inherited part of Father’s wealth, but not his title. After returning to Eðni, he’d claimed to be the only one who could decide of what to do with his brother’s murderer, but it wasn’t true. He had no standing, no support from his fellow citizens. They could choose to kill Roeland if they wanted to—all it took was a word from Mother. It made her idea to have Alv marry Elke and adopt the community’s natural heir that much more important to push through.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” he said, hoping Roeland wouldn’t oppose to the plan.
“Normally, I would ask you, but since you’re not in a position to make decisions, I’m just going to tell you.”
“About what?” Roeland frowned.
“I’m marrying your sister.”
Roeland stood so fast in the basin, water splashed to all sides. He stepped out and leaned into Alv’s face. “Don’t you dare to touch her!”
“But I’m not…”
“Hasn’t she suffered enough?” Roeland bellowed, his dark eyes slit with anger.
By Thor, he was insanely sexy, standing naked and wet, so near Alv could feel his damp bodily heat, water drippling from his hair and rolling alongside his tanned, chiseled cheeks. Alv couldn’t help hardening more, and needed to focus on the words that came out of Roeland’s luscious mouth to be able to answer. “She has already accepted.”
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About the Author
Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Jessie Pinkham and her hot new Romance on the Go™ M/M fantasy story The Dragon Keeper, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine romance. Take it away, Jessie!
When Aldric first meets Lito, he considers the man a nuisance. As a dragon keeper for the kingdom of Corancia, he has more important tasks than answering an artist’s numerous questions about dragons.
Lito travelled to Corancia so he could observe dragons firsthand for his paintings and he’s full of questions about the magnificent creatures. His questions aren’t merely for his art, however; they arise from his deep love of dragons. When he overhears a plot by his own kingdom to eliminate the animals, he has to choose between his loyalty and his beloved dragons.
Working to prevent the extermination of dragons throws Aldric and Lito together and lust is in the air. If they’re lucky, they might end up with more than healthy dragons. It’s just possible that happily ever exists after all.
Once the artist set down his pen, Aldric ventured to ask, “Does it take many years of training to be an artist?”
“To be a good one, yes. Particularly when it comes to the details of preparing materials and paints. However, at the risk of being outrageously bold, after the way you were looking at me I’ll be more than a touch disappointed if you are thinking only of my craft.”
It was very bold indeed, but Aldric found he liked that. “Not only, no.” He glanced down at Lito’s hands. “Your hands are nimble, and you have such control.”
Lito smiled. “Perhaps you’re wondering what else I can do with them?”
Aldric felt himself blush. “You are outrageously bold.”
“And you need not hold yourself back so much. Certainly not after I established that you aren’t the only one interested. Is everyone in the north so restrained?”
“No. I spend more time with dragons than with people.”
“We ought to do something about that,” said Lito. He reached out, placing one hand on the side of Aldric’s face. “I see no reason you can’t enjoy human company when your workday is completed.”
Aldric did not enjoy the company of just any human. Lito’s was among those he did enjoy. “I don’t know the custom for seducing a houseguest,” he confessed. “Am I supposed to offer you supper first, or take you to bed straightaway?”
Lito laughed. “I believe I’m the one seducing you. In either case, bed, please.”
Aldric took Lito to his bedroom, glad that his bedding was recently returned from the laundress. It would not do to appear slovenly.
Not that Lito paid heed to the room, as his attention was reserved for Aldric. Specifically, removing Aldric’s clothing. He made short work of it all, followed quickly by his own. Naked, they admired each other.
Aldric was not one to admire for very long when he could be touching. He ran his hand down Lito’s neck and traced the muscles on the artist’s chest, enjoying not just the feel of muscle but the way Lito reacted with quickened breath and shivering skin.
He sat on his bed and pulled Lito down so the other man was straddling his lap. This was an excellent position, which allowed for roaming hands and the thrill of their cocks bumping together. Lito also took this as time for kissing. Aldric was not always fond of the activity, but he found with Lito he quite liked it. All the more so when Lito arranged himself so their chests were together and his hands traced a roving pattern on Aldric’s back at the same time his tongue explored Aldric’s mouth.
It had been some time since Aldric last enjoyed the company of another man, and he forcibly quelled his impatience. He found it was always better to take one’s time in matters of sexual pleasure, so he focused on individual sensations: the feel of Lito’s weight on his lap, the sound of their kisses and Lito’s barely audible whimpers, the heady scent of aroused men, and the shocks of pleasure when their cocks touched.
Lito dragged his fingernails along Aldric’s spine and pulled his mouth away. “You see, it pays handsomely to be outrageously bold.”
Such was not Aldric’s style, but he appreciated it in Lito. “Indeed, it does.” Then he put his mouth to work pressing kisses along his lover’s neck, which earned him a series of delightful moans. He enjoyed a vocal lover. Each noise served as a reward for his efforts and told him what his partner especially liked.
He leaned to lie flat on his back, taking Lito down with him. The weight of another man’s body atop his own excited him, as did Lito’s next enthusiastic round of kissing and rubbing.
When the artist next stopped kissing he said, “I do believe I spoke of what else I can do with my hands. I ought to demonstrate.”
“By all means.”
His fingers were as nimble as earlier, only now the quick motions danced around Aldric’s sac. “You are very talented,” said Aldric.
“I always endeavor for the best possible results.”
How fortunate for Aldric. He gasped as Lito took his cock in one hand while the other continued its tantalizing massage of his balls.
“It’s a benefit to bedding an artist.” Lito smiled, clearly pleased with Aldric’s reaction to his ministrations. “Well-trained hands combined with ceaseless striving for perfection.”
If one considered an orgasm perfection, Aldric was fast approaching it until Lito suddenly stopped and said, “I want to undo you, Aldric.”
He was about to remark that letting go of his cock was not a good way to achieve that goal, when Lito did something remarkable. He lowered himself down Aldric’s body and took Aldric’s cock in his mouth.
The sensation was so overwhelmingly wonderful that it took Aldric a moment to ask, “What are you doing?”
Lito paused, which was a great loss and made Aldric regret his question. “You don’t mean to tell me you’ve never done this?”
“I’ve never heard of taking a cock in my mouth.”
The artist’s eyes widened in surprise. “How dreadful. I must show you what you’ve been missing.”
Aldric decided he’d been missing a great deal.
Where To Buy
About the Author
Jessie Pinkham writes m/m romance.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Jennifer Denys, whose sizzling new paranormal wolf shifter romance To Claim a Mate is now available from Luminosity Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Jennifer!
Cole Linley is a gay wolf-shifter. In order to appease the Alpha within, he has taken up the BDSM lifestyle and become very experienced. This placates his wolf to a certain extent, but his dearest wish is to find a mate—male, of course. Except, the question is, how to find one in a city surrounded by humans where other wolf-shifters are rare.
Then, one night, he enters Balls & Chains, a BDSM club he frequents, and immediately senses another of his kind. And not only that, it is the scent of a potential mate, Jared Gray. There is only one problem—Jared is collared by another Master.
Jared’s relationship shows all the signs of an abusive relationship. Can Cole get him away from the other Dom and show Jared the delights of BDSM when done properly and what it means to be a beta wolf to Cole’s Alpha?
Reader Advisory: The submissive in this Gay Paranormal Romance doesn’t realize he is in an abusive relationship until he meets his true Master.
Moving on, Cole was drawn into a room which had a cross in each corner of the room with plenty of space to wield the equipment. The walls were covered with floggers of varying types, although nothing stopped a Dominant using an implement from another section.
Cole halted. He’s here.
The scent was at its strongest, practically dragging him toward a slender man in his late twenties, with brown hair the color of hazelnuts. The sub was in the process of being tied face up against a cross on the far side. His chest was bare and sleek, and he wore skin-tight jeans.
The Dom wanted to rip the man’s clothes off and devour him on the spot. So intent was he on reaching his prey, he nearly missed the Master who had finished tying the submissive and came around to inspect the restraints, standing directly between Cole and the object of his hunt.
Stopping in his tracks, Cole’s hackles began to rise. A possessive instinct rose in him to fight off his rival. Except there were rules in BDSM and it didn’t include tearing out the throat of another Master.
Andy caught up with him and saw him staring. “Who have you found? Oh, this is Master Dirk. Jared is the sub he is playing with.”
Cole took a moment to calm his inner wolf, unclenching his fists before he triggered his claws. His voice was raspy as he asked, “Are they new? I don’t recall seeing either of them here before.” Actually, he couldn’t care less about this new Master. He only had eyes for Jared.
He didn’t hear Andy’s answer, because, at that moment, he caught the gaze of the bound man. Tangible electricity crossed the room and hit Cole like a silver bullet, slamming into his heart, nearly causing him to change into his wolf in front of everyone. It took everything he knew about Dominance to keep hold of his human side and push down his animal half.
Meanwhile, the submissive’s eyes opened wide in shock, and he bit his lip. Cole’s keen wolf eyesight could detect Jared’s fierce trembling, as he tightly gripped the ropes that held him. Cole willed him to hold on and not transform in front of everyone as the two shared a look of instant attraction, desperate need, and the desire to have sex.
And yet it was more than that. So much more—an inner knowledge, assurance one has finally found one’s other half, and didn’t even know one was looking.
Taking a deep breath, Cole narrowed his eyes as he gazed on Jared, drinking in the beautiful sight before him.
He gave a slight smile of acknowledgment.
Oh yes, this is my mate. And woe betide anyone who comes between us.
Where To Buy
About the Author
Jennifer is a bestselling author in various genre (BDSM, contemporary, sci-fi, paranormal, with historical and fantasy in her works in progress) with several different publishers.
An Englishwoman through and through, she lives in a beautiful historical city and is game to try most things once. She’s had a tattoo done on her calf, flew down zip wires 100 feet up in the trees, and was photographed nude by a professional photographer. All of which have taken place since she turned 50!
Many of her experiences end up in her books… but you will have to read them to find out what!
Do contact Jennifer – she loves to hear from her fans. She posts to her blog three times a week and is on Facebook daily.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to L.J. Longo, whose sizzling new paranormal romance Hiring the Tiger is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s L.J.!
Thanks for having me on your site! I’m excited to share Hiring the Tiger because it’s both my first F/M story and also my first series. While Hiring the Tiger is a stand-alone, there will be three other books in the series about the rest of the pack.
A tiger shouldn’t be picking tea-leaves and carrying luggage, but that’s the only job Navarro sees in his future. He’s learned to be humble since he and his friends, a wolf pack, exchanged their former careers as highway robbers for prison.
Then Lady Jasprite Doughton, a merchant with all the grace of the far East and the wealth of the West, whirls through the village on the back of a dragon and reminds Navarro what it means to want something. With her dominating sexual tastes and her powerful personality, Jasprite challenges his body, his lust, his loyalty to his friends, and his own worth.
After all, is gold enough to buy a tiger?
Nav worried she wouldn’t like the look of the bands, too dirty, too bold. Then he scoffed because he didn’t give a damn if she liked the look of them. Then he worried she’d decide he was a frivolous expense.
Fuck the bet, he’d take for her free. Now, he wanted her.
Now she was here.
He smelled her in the hallway, potent and sexual. She walked with quick long strides and opened the door before he could decide if he ought to be found in the balcony or on the bed.
Jasprite locked the door after she entered, then dropped the key into her front vest pocket. She grinned at him, the kind of leer men give the village girls washing their clothing at the river. It made him feel curiously misplaced.
“So, the captain was wrong. The chest was delivered safe and whole. You didn’t even open it.”
“I didn’t have the key.” He’d resisted the desire to pick it. “Ramsay also said you ought to hire a soldier to do this work.”
“A miscreant will do the job more thoroughly.” She pulled off her suit jacket and hung it on a wall hook, never taking her eyes from him. “Though, I’ll be honest, I don’t like animals. Especially, large ones. They don’t take direction well. Your witch said you’re a tiger.”
Nav grinned. “She’s not wrong.”
The lady’s eyebrow raised with annoyance. He wasn’t playing properly. He tried to be timid again. “Did you want proof, Lady Doughton?”
“Never had a tiger for hire.” She grinned at her name then pulled the string of jewels out of her bun, plucked something from the string, and tossed something over to him. He caught a key. “Open the chest.”
He knelt and opened the red chest with a gamely smile.
The smile left quickly. “Holy Hades…”
Under the layers of cotton were shackles, collars, whips. Long thick phallic statues of carved and polished wood, glass, and shining metal molded for a very specific purpose. Gags, hoods, dozens of other toys he’d never seen even in the most wicked books.
She chuckled, not a pleasant sound. “I knew you wouldn’t be ready.”
“Uh…” He looked from the box to her. He wanted her strong thighs, those tempting breasts, her cruel smile. But the box … men were supposed to use toys like that, not women.
“You like my collection?”
“I don’t know, actually.”
She hummed, unimpressed with his answer. She sauntered over and peered with him into her box of deviance. Her thighs were level with his face, and he inhaled the rich fresh wetness between her legs. He wanted her so much.
Nav swallowed, uncomfortable on his knees. He should have been the one staring down at her. She should have been the one to feel small and desired. Instead, she’d made him nothing more than his throbbing cock and his wordless mouth.
“Yes, this is exactly my problem with large animals. Especially ones that belong to other women.” She gripped his chin.
“I don’t belong to Yenna.”
She grinned. “I know who you belong to.”
Nav shivered a little at the ownership in her confidence.
Jasprite let him go. “I do like a pretty face though. So, I’ll make an exception for you, tiger.”
She could still tell him no? He wasn’t sure he had the option himself.
The woman unbuttoned her vest. “Pick out what you’ll let me use on you and I’ll tell you what you’re worth.”
Where To Buy
About the Author
L.J. Longo is a queer author, a geek, a feminist, sometime pirate, and is ARe best-selling author of Erotic Romance. L.J.’s work with Evernight includes The Dishonest Lover, Dark Captive: Manlove Edition, and Owned by the Alpha: Manlove Edition.
Find more thoughtful, hot erotica at Graceful Indecency where L.J. offers free erotica and contests to win romance e-books. L.J. also sometimes takes a break from writing and messes around on Twitter and Facebook.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to my delightful sister in crime L.D. Blakeley, who just released her revised and expanded contemporary M/M romance Best Worst Ever with a fantastic new cover. Take it away, L.D.!
Thanks for having me on today to tell you about Best Worst Ever. This story was my very first to be published so it will always hold a special place in my heart. I recently had my rights reverted, and knew I didn’t want this novella to simply fade away. So I decided to give my boys a bit of a spruce-up. I redid the cover art, revised and edited the story and made it available once more. I hope you enjoy. 🙂
Carey English spends his days planning extravagant parties and lavish weddings and generally making people’s lives brighter. He spends his nights wishing for a man he doesn’t have to share and who won’t try to drag him back into the closet. It doesn’t help that the man he wants most doesn’t need a closet to begin with — his straight best friend, Sky.
Skyler Wood has been dumped — again — just days before the holiday season, leaving him with an ex-fiancée, a nonrefundable New Year’s Eve getaway rental, and nothing to ring in the New Year but a broken heart. For Carey, rushing off to offer Sky a shoulder will either be the best decision he’s ever made—or it will lead to the worst heartbreak he’s ever experienced.
✽ This is an edited & revised version of a previously published story. It has been expanded by approximately 1,400 words. ✽
If there was one thing he knew about Sky, it was that he was as frugal as the day was long. And, judging by the other places he’d passed along the way, he was guessing the impressive exterior of this place matched a rather swanky, if not romantic, interior. Of course, idiot. Sky had rented the place thinking he’d be with his fiancée. Not his best friend.
He parked next to his friend’s SUV and stubbornly grabbed more than he could carry at once. Why make two trips when you can do it in one? Necessity might be the mother of invention, but laziness was definitely its big, bad daddy. Laden down with a suitcase and far too many bags of food and liquor, Carey used the toe of his boot to gently knock at the front door. “Sky? You in there? My hands are full, man, come open the door.” When there was no response, he tried again with the tip of his boot. “Mr. Darcy, are—”
His sentence was cut short as the door flew open. “Jesus! Hold your horses, Logan. I couldn’t hear you with the water running. I was just in the…”
Shower. He’d been in the shower. Carey knew this, not because he suddenly had the ability to read minds. Oh, no. He knew this because there, in front of him, stood all six foot four inches of Darcy Skyler Wood… dripping wet with nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Shit.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare at that solitary drop of water as it slowly slides its way between the hard, flat planes of those perfect pecs. And for the love of all that’s holy, do not stare at anything even remotely near the edge of that towel! But Carey never was any good at taking orders.
“… hot enough to melt the snow…fun, witty banter…” – Joyfully Jay
“…sexy and lovely.” – Hearts On Fire Reviews
“a great friend to lovers story… a very sweet ending.” – MM Good Book Reviews
“…humorous, and snarky banter…” – My Fiction Nook
“… warm and sensual chemistry together that is just yummy.” – Prism Book Alliance
“…excellent fantasy fodder… sassy!” – Rainbow Book Reviews
Where To Buy
About the Author
A pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind, L.D. is a fan of horror movies, hot sex, and Happily Ever Afters. Easily distracted by shiny things, she’s a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.
In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Of course, whether these pretty boys end up between the sheets with other gorgeous lads or up against a wall with a spicy and spirited heroine, all depends on which direction her imagination takes her on any given day.
Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in down-town Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.