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Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Gale Stanley
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Gale Stanley, whose smouldering new M/M erotic romance One Night in Bangkok is now available at Evernight Publishing. Take it away, Gale!
The temperature in Thailand is a humid ninety degrees but things are about to get a lot hotter. David Elliot is in Bangkok on business, but when he meets Kai, the younger man turns his world upside down. It was never meant to be anything more than a pleasant diversion but David can’t walk away when it’s over.
Story Excerpt
The door closed behind them, and suddenly David felt a little shy. He stared at Kai for an awkward moment, wanting to touch and be touched, but not quite believing they were finally alone. Or maybe he was just used to Bernie taking the lead.
Kai waited silently. He really was hotter than any man had a right to be, with those almond-shaped eyes and pouty lips just begging to be kissed. David’s gaze slid south and settled on the full, hard cock straining against the thin material of Kai’s pants. God, he wanted to hold Kai’s prick in his hand, breathe in the scent, taste the drops of precum leaking from the tip….
When he looked up, he saw Kai still watching him. The heat in those brown eyes turned his insides to mush. Desire overcame shyness, and David edged closer. Kai met him halfway and David let out a moan as he captured Kai’s mouth, teasing him with his tongue. Two arms snaked around David’s waist, and their swollen cocks rubbed as they kissed. Hot spikes of sensation flared at David’s groin, and he pulled Kai tighter against his body.
When they broke for a breath, Kai was flushed and panting. Without a word, he slipped from David’s grasp and went to his knees. His slim fingers gripped the waistband of David’s slacks and tugged until they puddled at David’s feet. Eyes so wide and dark they appeared black looked up at him. Then Kai pressed his mouth to the silky fabric covering David’s erection.
“Oh, fuck.” David threaded his fingers in Kai’s thick black hair.
When Kai sucked on the tip of David’s cock, David swore he could feel the wet heat through his boxers. His thoughts scattered and he swallowed hard in anticipation. “Kai, please.” He tightened his grip on Kai’s hair and pulled gently.
Kai stood, and they undressed each other like they had that day at the temple. David smoothed a palm over Kai’s chest, muscles tensed and quivered under his touch. The goal had been to get inside this man who tempted him beyond reason, but now he didn’t know if he’d last that long.
Where To Buy
About Gale Stanley
Gale Stanley is a hopeless romantic, who grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, with her nose buried in a book of fairy tales. If a story ended badly, she created her own happily ever after. Now, she writes romance, in all its many splendored facets, because she believes the world needs more love and happy endings.
Where to find Gale Stanley
Website
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Fabulous Friday Reads: Intimate Danger
Let’s kick off this lovely weekend with the brilliant D.C. Stone and her thrilling new erotic romance Intimate Danger, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. D.C. was kind enough to sit down with her main character Trent Rossi for a fascinating one-on-one interview. Enjoy!
I glance across the table at Trent and fight not only a shiver, but also not to shift under his intense, blue gaze. Of course I know much about the dark FBI agent (after all, he was born from my mind), but the silence in the room, with only four white walls, a door, the wooden table between us, and two chairs, is quite thick. We’re locked in a battle of wills, to see who can turn away or blink first; an unspoken challenge, but ones there nonetheless.
After minutes of eyes burning, glaring, and face stoicism, I break and heave out a sigh.
“Fine, you win.”
His smile is brief and blinding. Really, the man should smile more often. It lights his whole face, like the sun breaking over the horizon at dawn. You know you shouldn’t stare, but you’re unable to turn away.
He clears his throat. “I always win, DC.”
My nose wrinkles. “I know a certain detective who’d take offense to that.”
He shrugs, a slight lifting of his shoulder. The movement may be small, but both he and I know it says so much.
You see, Trent knows how to read people; he’s been trained to not only uncover the pure essence of someone based on their actions, but also to understand just what a person is saying without them having to speak. The art of body language is complex thing, and yet, sometimes, movements, eyes, and expressions tell an investigator more than the person they’re speaking to.
As it is, I’ve been trained in the same art, and this is something he knows.
He shifts and stretches his arms forward, interlocking his fingers before him. “So what’s this all about, DC?”
“Apparently I’m supposed to interview you.”
He lifts one dark brow and his blue eyes dance with humor. “For what?”
“For your story, which is releasing. People want to know about you.”
His chin juts in and a look of incredibility plasters on his handsome face. “But why?”
I blink. Seriously?
I don’t realize I’ve spoken aloud until he says, “Yes, seriously. I’m no one important.”
Despite his self-mocked words, my heart softens, as does my face. “Trent, you’re very important, a big part of this story. And your role in what happens is something not many will forget.”
He still doesn’t look like he believes me, if the slack jaw, narrowed eyes, and scrunched nose say anything. But instead of arguing, he settles back in his seat and opens his hands briefly before clasping them again. “Fine, ask your questions.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the sarcasm in his tone, and instead look down at my pad and grab a pencil. “Okay, what’s your favorite color.”
“Really?”
I glance up and just stare.
“Fine,” he grumbles, “green. But not just any green, the type you’d see coming from the ground after a long, hard winter. The first blades of grass poking through the soil.”
I dubiously lift my gaze to him with a brow. One side of his lips is curved up and his eyes dance with suppressed laughter.
“Touché, Trent. Okay,” I say and clear my throat. “Tell me one surprising thing that no one else knows.”
Now it was his turn to lift a brow. “Why would I do that?”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “For the interview.”
He shifts forward and rests his elbows on the chair. “But why would I tell you something no one else knows? You know as well as I do, I like my privacy. Why tell you something that you’ll just go spread around? Doesn’t that defeat the point in being…private?”
“Fine,” I huff and move on to the next question. “If you could be anyone, who would it be? They can be living, dead, someone in the future, you name it.”
Again with the narrowing of his eyes.
“Stop that,” I snap.
“What?”
“That damn eye thingy you’re doing.”
His brows scrunch down into a dark vee. “What eye thing?”
I glare at him.
He glares right back.
This lasts several minutes, with the silence in the room growing thicker and thicker until not even a knife would be able to slice through.
“You’re not going to let me interview you, are you?” I ask, conceding to the test once again. I really hate conceding. But I’m not about to sit here all night. And that’s exactly where we’d be. His patience is unbreakable.
He grins, a quick flash of straight white teeth. “Not on your life.”
I huff and sit back. “I knew it. You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
His smile widens. “But you love me.”
“I may,” I say with a dismissing flick of my fingers. “But I’m telling Charlie on you.”
His widening eyes tell me all I want to know. I grin in triumph.
When FBI agent Trent Rossi arrives to investigate a chain of crimes—devastating murders and violent rapes—an inexperienced small town Detective, Charlie, who’s assigned to assist, finds her desire surging for the agent—only to realize he is the primary suspect.
A sleeping threat has awakened in the small town of Nyack. Crimes in the cozy village, garner the attention of the FBI, who assign two agents to assist Charlie in tracking down the sick and deranged perpetrator. Agents Trent Rossi and Dillon Echols work closely with Charlie, but as the crimes progress, dark secrets begin to cloud the air, blurring the line between who is on the side of the law and who’s against it. Being Charlie’s first major case, she’s unprepared not only for the menacing killer on the loose, but also with the unexpected feelings Trent draws out of her.
While Trent holds secrets, disappears at random, and seems to understand their perpetrator all-too-well, Charlie’s suspicions grow along with the pull she feels toward him. Her attraction could become fatal, yet she does not realize it until it is too late.
Story Excerpt
Jesus, he should be looking for this Detective Lopez, but his body screamed for this woman. He fought the urge to fidget, cursed the hours he had been working, unable to get any kind of companionship. He would have to work quick and then find Charlie. “I’m Agent Rossi with the FBI.” He leaned against the desk, gave her the look that had gotten him into pants faster than any of his college buddies, and held out a hand. She looked at his palm as if it were a serpent ready to strike.
“And? How can I help you, Agent Rossi?” She rose from her chair and crossed her arms under her breasts. He tried—and failed—to ignore how the movement pushed her plentiful mounds up toward her chin.
He pulled his hand back and ran it through his hair.
Bad move! The stench coming from under his arm made him wince.
“Look, I know you probably have things to do,” he said.
She nodded, brows lifted to her hairline, as if saying “no shit.” He went on, “But I do need to find Detective Lopez. You’d be a real sweetheart if you could point me in his direction. I’m here on a case and I don’t know…maybe after I’m done briefing him, you’d like to have dinner with me? That is, if you’re not busy?”
The contortion of her brows twisted before a sly smile spread.
“You’re looking for Charlie, huh?”
Someone groaned, and Trent glared over his shoulder, perplexed. The heavyset guy in need of Tide shook his head and looked away. Irritated at the interruption and apparent lack of man code, Trent turned his attention back to the cute little female.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
The woman shifted and sat in the chair with purposeful, slow movements. She set one foot on the desk, crossed a long leg over the other. Each action played out in slow motion through his lust-filled brain. He shifted, his focus glued to the smooth expanse of a jean-covered thigh, and stepped closer.
Hummidy, hummidy, hummidy.
“And why is it you need Charlie?” The woman ran a hand up the outside of her leg and his attention followed it. His mouth went dry.
“Umm, a case.”
“A case?”
“Yeah.” When silence met him, he realized what was happening. You didn’t have to go through interrogation and interview classes in order to figure it out. He was being led. His gaze snapped to hers, except this time, her face did not look friendly. If the hardening of her mouth was any indication, she looked pissed. And he’d been totally caught just checking her out.
Resigned, he let out a breath.
“Yeah, a case. Look, I’m sorry for all—” He waved a hand between them. “This. Could you just point me in the direction of Detective Lopez?”
Her hard mouth softened and she stood from her chair again, lips turning up at the corners. Leaning in to him, her scent surrounded him and he got a whiff of coconut.
His gaze tracked along her face, and dropped to her shirt, which parted as she leaned forward. He about choked as he tried to swallow, his mouth dry as the Arizona desert.
“Well, Agent Rossi.”
Lean forward a little more, please.
“If you could stop staring at my tits for all of two seconds, then I’ll tell where you can find Detective Lopez.”
The noisemaker behind him let out a strangled cough.
He snapped his regard up to hers. Hazel eyes blared with anger. Crap.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Seriously, it has been a long damn day. If you’d just tell me where he is, Miss?” He raised his brows, wanting her name. Good Lord, he wanted her name.
She smiled sweet, the transformation of her face a thing of beauty. “It’s Detective.”
He raised a brow, a sick feeling creeping up his spine. “Detective?” he croaked.
The smile spread to her eyes. “Yes, and to not only help you, but to also answer your question, it’s Detective Lopez. How can I help you, Agent Rossi?”
The noisemaker behind him snorted out a laugh.
Where to Buy
Evernight
Amazon US
Amazon UK
All Romance eBooks
Add it to your TBR with Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22397858-intimate-danger
About D.C. Stone
D.C. Stone is a romance author and full-time fraud investigator. She lives in the north-east with her incredibly supporting husband and two kids. She’ll deny any association with the grumpy cat that also resides in the house, but he is there, never-the-less.
After serving eight years of service with the United States Air Force, she went on to transition into the world of financial crimes and became a lead investigator for many years.
Reading has always been a passion of hers, getting lost in a good, steamy romance is one of her favorite past times. She soon after discovered her own love for writing and recreating stories and characters in her head. Her writing concentrates on romantic with specifics in paranormal, suspense and erotica.
Now, when she isn’t trying to solve a new puzzle in the world of fraud, she is engulfed with coffee, her laptop, and all those crazy characters in her head. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, New Jersey Romance Writers, RomVets, RWA Kiss of Death, and the Liberty State Fiction Writers. She currently serves as the Vice President and 2014 Conference Chair for NJRW. Come stop by on Facebook, Twitter, or her website and say hello!
Where to find D.C. Stone
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Head Over Heels
It’s time once again to help you over your Hump Day and spice up your week with a tasty M/M erotic romance from Evernight Publishing. This week, I’m featuring Remmy Duchene’s Head Over Heels — check out the excerpt below for a teaser!
Thank you so much for having me here today – I am Remmy Duchene and I write interracial manlove! I have a thing about cultures. *grins*
Today I’m here to talk about scars and this strange thing we have about being “perfect” in everyone’s eyes.
Papa Roach sings “And my scars remind me that the past is real.” Is that true? Are your scars just reminders that you weren’t just born yesterday and all the things (good and bad) that happened to make you who you are today were actually real—they actually happened? If that is true, why do we spend so much money every year buying creams and oils and potions trying to get rid of that scar where little Johnny pushed you off your bike and you scraped your knee? Or when you thought Parkour was a fun sport to try and missed your landing?
We want to be deep and rock out to Papa Roach singing about the wonderfully, angsty lives of scars yet we are too vain to keep them around or show them off. In Head Over Heels, my newest release from Evernight Publishing, my character Christian is a firefighter who was caught in a burning building. Needless to say he’s scarred all over and it’s a source of pain for him.
This touches on the idea that though they always say boys should be proud of their scars, it’s still a sore spot for most of us. We want to be flawless, perfect and though we know perfection is a myth, we still want that. One of the things I hope people take away from this book is you don’t have to be perfect in the eyes of the world but ideal in the eyes of those who love you.
Let me explain.
If your lover sees you and you have a few pounds on but he/she stills adore the halibut out of you, that you’re not perfect in the eyes of everyone else but to this one person that matters to you most in the world – you are so fabulous there is nothing he/she would change about you.
Firefighter Christian Shane, badly scarred from a fire that ravished a city block, runs away from New York to Beacon Cove, hoping to hide away in his family’s beach house. All he wants is to be left alone.
Case Jenkins never met a sexy, muscled stud he liked. They were always jocks and always dicks—plain and simple. He was too much of a nerd and not built like a brick house. But when he sees Christian Shane, he can’t control himself. Nothing worth having ever comes easy, and Case isn’t quite sure he has enough patience. But there’s a mad-man trying to burn down the world, and in the end, both men must come to terms with their feelings.
Story Excerpt
Christian’s nightmares had gotten progressively worse over the past two days. Since he could do nothing but sleep, there was no way to avoid it. Every time he drifted off, he woke up in a cold sweat. The first few times he jerked awake, he heard someone screaming. Then he realized the sound was coming from him as he clutched at his throat. The machines beeped furiously and his nurse rushed in, pleading with him to be careful.
He felt like a moron.
He’d chosen the career, and the moment the bad of it raised its ugly head, Christian felt useless and confused. When he thought deeper about it, he felt discarded and betrayed. For so long he hungered to become a firefighter and worked tirelessly toward his dream. During his fight to make his dream come true, everything else had fallen by the wayside, and somewhere over the years he’d become a sheltered, jaded ass.
Christian sacrificed everything for his dream. Then, that dream scarred him for life.
One day faded away, followed by a few more he couldn’t keep track of. From time to time, his doctor would force him out of bed to walk around a bit with the help of a cane and a nurse. Another moment when he was lucid, his friend the doctor was standing in the room, peering pensively at his chart.
“Hey, Doc.”
“You’re a very lucky man, Christian Shane.” Dr. Clancy O’Neal didn’t look at him but scribbled away at his clipboard. “A really lucky man.”
“I don’t feel like it.” Christian’s throat was like he swallowed sandpaper—dry. He shifted on the bed, and a burning sensation shivered through him from his back. “I feel like someone doused me in hot water.”
“That’s what happens when you have half of your back covered in burns. You could have died, Christian.” Clancy looked up then to focus his piercing green eyes on Christian. “You have to always remember that. It doesn’t matter how scarred or damaged you think you are, life is way more precious than beauty—and if I swung your way, I’d definitely tap that.”
Christian laughed. “You do swing this way.”
“No, no. Not that way.” Clancy hooked the clipboard to the foot of the bed.
Christian arched a brow and tilted his head. “Em… maybe it’s the drugs, but I’m lost. What way are we talking here?”
“I meant.” Clancy laughed. “If I went for the buff, firefighter types.”
“I see.”
“Seriously, though. Just remember you could have died, but you didn’t.”
For so many years, Christian had said those same words people he pulled from fires. He would tell them to be thankful they were still alive with only a few scars, to be happy. As he lay there, hearing those words tossed back at him, he felt physically ill. “Quick! Hit me over the head with a mallet.”
“Stop being dramatic. You’ll be fine. You just have to remember you’re alive and there are people who didn’t wake up this morning.”
“Why are you saying all this?”
“Because I’m your friend and I know you. You spend hours per week making sure your body looks a certain way, and these scars are messing with that. I don’t want you to think anything changes because of them. You’re still as sexy as before… just with a few additions.”
Where to Buy
Where to find Remmy Duchene
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Ela Stein
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Ela Stein, who is our twofer for the day — not only is her debut novel Love’s Labyrinth available from Evernight Publishing and other retailers of fine erotic romance, but she also has the free read Pleasure Android 7.1 available at Evernight. Here’s what Ela has to say about her new publications:
Hello, everyone! I’m here today to talk about my two new releases with Evernight Publishing, but first of all, a very huge thank you to my blog hostess for having me. These are my first publications, so I am excited and a little scared 🙂 Writing has always been a part of my life, and getting published a dream and a goal, so it’s a cool feeling to have two books for my very first release date.
First, a little bit about my Free Read because… well, it’s free. So you can try out my writing at no risk, and I hope you enjoy it. This is a quick and short read, at a little over 5,000 words. “Pleasure Android 7.1” came about as the result of the eternal “what if” question. With all the advances we’re making in artificial intelligence and robots, it seems almost inevitable that this will be our future. I saw a video about the robots they are creating in China… they look like people, they talk, they make eye contact. It’s exhilarating, the progress we’re making, and a little creepy at the same time. Nico, the hero of “Pleasure Android 7.1” is definitely not the least bit creepy. He was created to be every woman’s fantasy and has the database to deliver (wink, wink).
Zola is dismayed to discover that for her 40th birthday, her friends teamed up to purchase her a hot sex droid. She refuses to let herself get attached to a machine, and tries her best to avoid the temptation. He is programmed to overcome such resistance and knows how to wear down defenses and sell himself like a pro using his perfect charms and impeccable skills. Though she suspects it’s nothing more than a sales pitch, she begins to question whether beneath his perfect manufactured exterior can lie genuine feelings and desires.
Story Excerpt
What the fuck.
A seven-foot-tall box occupied the middle of my living room. I stared at the prime male specimen behind the clear front panel. Well over six feet tall, with dusky skin, dark brown wavy hair, broad shoulders, aquiline nose, full lips—basically, he looked like a model, the kind you’d drool over in an ad for high-end products.
With his eyes closed, his long, thick lashes grazed his chiseled cheekbones. He looked as though he slept—an illusion of the most expensive kind.
I sighed, hands on my hips. My best friend, Lexia, had done it. For my fortieth birthday, she got me a sex droid. She’d joked about it, but I never thought she’d actually follow through. It had to be her—she was the only other person who had access to my apartment.
On the box, in large, blocky print, it proclaimed “Domestic Android 7.1” and underneath it, in fancy script, “For Your Pleasure.” Alrighty then. And what if it was my pleasure to get rid of it? I stalked to the box and circled around it. The back and both sides were solid panels of striking red. If it was supposed to be romantic, their marketing department missed the boat. I wasn’t a big fan of Valentine’s Day, and this was even cheesier than a heart-shaped box of chocolates.
Although, I could remember a time when chocolates, roses, and a little stuffed bear made my heart skip a beat. I had grown a bit jaded over the years, which was probably why my friends decided to gang up and torture me with this… thing. It stood there, like the proverbial elephant in the room. There would be no vid watching on my birthday, cuddled up with a bowl of ice cream. No relaxing in the tub with a good romance novel. Now I was too distracted, and I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy myself until I got this thing out.
A plan formulated: get the box outside and message his creator, Atlas Robotics Corporation, to come pick him up. No, not him. It. I studied the box. At five foot five, it had well over a foot on me. I tried to tilt it to the side, planning on then pushing it out the rest of the way. The damn thing was heavy. So heavy, it didn’t even wobble when I gave it my all.
Exhausted, I plopped down on my yellow pleather couch to glare at the box. I refused to build up a sweat today of all days. What a disaster my birthday was turning out to be. There was no getting the box out until Atlas Robotics agreed to stop by. Since they had no incentive to be eager to process a return, it could be days. Maybe even weeks, I thought miserably.
Not fair that here I was, suffering, while he—it!—stood there, all serene and peaceful. I jumped to my feet and approached the box. There was an easier way to do this. Turn him on and order him to take a hike on his own two legs. The more I considered it, the more I liked this plan. Quick, easy, smart.
Okay, I hope you liked the beginning of my free short story. Now, onto my novella, “Love’s Labyrinth”. I am a huge fan of fantasy, and this novella is very close to my heart. It’s set in the far future, on a colonized planet. Humans weren’t doing too well with surviving on it after a crash landing, but the Gods took mercy and intervened, helping them figure it out. The Goddess of Love left behind her magical Labyrinth, where once a year, those who participate get to meet the ones they’re fated to be with. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) the ratio of men to women is skewed, so it’s not uncommon with a woman to find more than one mate. As everyone knows, the Goddess makes no mistakes.
Auria enters the magical Labyrinth on New Year’s Eve, and its halls guide her to the two men she is fated to be with. Brener has loved her from afar since they were children, and Jhennen is a Warrior-Guard, commanding in personality and intimidating in physical presence. They share a life-changing, passionate night together, but come morning, they must decide if their one-night menage can be the beginning of something new. When trouble threatens to tear Auria away from her life and the two men she is starting to develop feelings for, their connection just might be her only hope for salvation.
Story Excerpt
Brener’s tongue flicked masterfully on my clit. He knew what he did to me. I held my breath, feeling my insides begin to gather, ready for that final moment.
But just before it came, Brener stopped and jerked back, leaving me alone. My pussy protested, my clit throbbing almost painfully. My eyes flew to him in protest, in supplication, but then my whole being froze.
Brener was sitting back on his heels, his lips wet from his ministrations, his body stiff with shock. The same shock I myself felt, as I stared up at the stranger that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
He was gigantic, appearing to loom like a mountain from my prone position. Whereas Brener had an athlete’s body, this stranger had a warrior’s body with a broad back and wider hips and his entire physique encased in bulky muscle. Blond hair, almost white, was pulled back in a long ponytail—I could see its bottom reached to his lower back. My eyes flew to his face, his cold, pale blue eyes. He seemed to regard me with some measure of amusement. A long pale scar saved his face from being almost pretty, as did the rough bump in his aquiline nose. Leaning against the green wall of the Labyrinth with one shoulder, his relaxed stance was at complete odds with the tension that gripped me.
I gasped and used my hands to cover my breasts, while drawing my legs up to cover my splayed pussy.
Seeing this, he chuckled and shook his head. “No need to cover all the loveliness,” he said, and his words held a hint of an accent, the difference in inflection conveying he was not from our village. It sounded like a northern dialect.
“Who are you?” I could think of nothing else to say in that moment. My heart jumped to action, pounding away like crazy with a surge of adrenaline.
“Jhennen,” he replied, as though we were out to tea, having a pleasant chat. As an afterthought, he added, “Jhennen Vayment.”
“What are you doing here?” Brener almost growled, coming to his feet now, bristling. With them standing, it was clear Jhennen was a couple heads taller. All the more sweet that Brener thought to protect me from him, dwarfed as he was by this man, who looked battle-trained and used to combat.
“I suppose the same thing as you are,” Jhennen drawled out almost carelessly. His stance was nonthreatening, but his eyes glinted with definite danger. “The Goddess brought me here, same as you. So stand down, and either watch or participate, your choice.”
Outraged, I sputtered, and would have flown at him to slap that presumptuous smile off his face, but remembering my complete nakedness, I stayed put. “What do you mean, participate?”
“Is it the word or the concept you’re not clear on?” He turned to me now, his tone light.
“You’re not participating in anything here, or with anyone here. Feel free to turn about and go back the way you came,” I shot back, angry now.
“I think not. The Goddess doesn’t make mistakes, and to be honest, I hoped we’d cross paths here.”
Where To Buy
Pleasure Android 7.1
Evernight Publishing
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
Love’s Labyrinth
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
About Ela Stein
Reading was my entertainment and salvation as a child, and it transferred into a passion for writing. I am still very much a reader, and love many different genres, from erotic romance, to fantasy (and dark fantasy… Game of Thrones, anyone?), to historical fiction, and that love is reflected in my own writing as well (I don’t do contemporary very often). If you’d like to learn more about me, or chat about books and life, you can find me all over the web. I’d love to get to know all of you, and even though my blog is new, I post regularly and update on life and my writing progress. Thanks so much for stopping by today and reading.
Where to find Ela Stein
Fabulous Friday Reads: Taking Courage (Love Projects #2)
Let’s kick off this lovely weekend with my release day sister S.J. Maylee and her hot new erotic romance Taking Courage, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, S.J.!
Janna’s ready to make over her life and get out from under the controlling thumb of her father. She doesn’t want another failed arranged marriage. She’s ready to do whatever it takes for the career she wants, enter the lifestyle she craves, and to earn the trust and love of the man that has captured her heart, but heartbreak and career hiccups seem to be her destiny.
Simon’s still recovering after his last submissive lied her way into his life. He’s not ready for Janna and how she pushes against his prejudices. He needs to decide if he’s willing to lose her or if he’ll fight for her love and submission.
Story Excerpt
“Head up now.” Something was agitating the tender bundle in his arms. Simon wanted to help her through it. He may have taken a step back on his training responsibilities since his last experience, but Janna felt perfect under his hand. He’d have to find out if she’d be back.
“Yes, Sir.”
“What’s troubling you, pet?”
“I forgot to mention something earlier.” She tucked the blanket under her chin.
“Oh?” He rubbed in big circles around her back. “Why don’t you tell me now?”
“This was my first time, Sir.”
“Your first?” His confusion was thick. She tried to hide her eyes from him, but he saw shame. Sometimes newer submissives struggled with firsts. “Is this your first time being a guest?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Is your home club much different?” The safe rules of BDSM clubs were pretty universal, a real gift to traveling kinksters, but sometimes a scene in a different setting could be unsettling.
“I don’t have a home club, Sir. Well, not one that I physically visit.” She rubbed the edge of her blanket. “I’m an active member of their chat rooms.”
He hadn’t heard her right. No. She felt like an experienced submissive. Was she just playing the part? Anger ticked a quick pace up his spine.
“Are you telling me I just gave you your first scene?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Why did you withhold this information?” When she didn’t answer he added, “Why weren’t you honest with me?” He pushed her slightly, in part to get some distance and to keep her safe from him. “Answer me, now.”
“I forgot. It all happened so fast, and I forgot one of my lines.”
“Lines.” He finished shoving her from his lap and stood. “I hope you had fun tonight.”
“I did, Sir,” she said as she stood to join him. She tugged at the edge of the blanket that had stuck in the couch. “Please, let me thank you for tonight.”
“There is no need. You lied to me, and you had your fun.” He scratched his brow. “Go home now.” He took two storming steps away and stopped. He forced himself to return to her, disgusted by how good it felt to see her face once more. He stopped within an inch, forcing her to look up. “Do yourself a favor. Enter that club at home, get yourself in a training program, and do not ever lie to a Dom again.”
He wanted to hit something. What was it with submissives and their lies? The lie might have been smaller this time, but it was still a lie.
He thundered past the scene areas and kept walking, increasing his speed. Folks saved themselves and moved out of his way. Fury radiated down his arms curling his fingers into fists, almost there.
Some members thought Keller was crazy when he’d installed the small gym next to the club. When the roster quickly filled, it was Keller that was laughing all the way to the bank. Simon had a regular date with the bag hanging in the corner. He may no longer enter the ring, but the regimented workouts kept him strong and centered.
A couple more steps and he’d entered the gym and saw the innocent bag hanging right where he needed it to be. He slammed his fist into the bag. Pressure reverberated from his hand straight to his heart, but it didn’t release the revulsion.
“Damn her.”
He needed to get this out and get back on the floor. One of his best friends was about to collar his sub. The bag swung around. He walked around it and rolled his shoulders back. He wanted to witness the happiness a pair could have when things worked out and no one lied.
It was just a scene, something he could shake off, and she was just a guest sub. There was no possible way she could have felt as right as he thought. The anger was tricking him. She was just another lying sub. A sub to forget. A sub he would never see again.
“Damn her.”
An image of her regret filled face tugged at his resolve. His fingers flexed as he remembered her velvet channel. His cock twitched, and he hit the bag again.
GIVEAWAY!
SJ’s giving away one $10 Amazon gift card and THREE swag packs. To enter: read the excerpt, answer this question in the comments, and click away on the rafflecopter.
Simon definitely sees Janna again. Do you think she’ll get a second chance with him?
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand
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
Blog
Twitter
Facebook Page
Google+
Goodreads
Pinterest
Amazon Author Page
Marvelous Monday Reads: Unholy Matrimony
Hello, and welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, angels! Today I’m participating in a blog tour for Roane Publishing to promote their latest publication Unholy Matrimony by Sonny Zae.
To celebrate the release, Roane Publishing is giving away an eCOPY of UNHOLY MATRIMONY, as well as a $10 Amazon Gift Card. To enter the raffle, click here.
And now, here’s an interview with the main character supplied by Roane Publishing — read on!
What do you look for in a woman?
Interviewer: Tell me, Sonny, as an infamous lover, what do you look for in a woman?
Sonny: The word is notorious, as in Sonny the Scoundrel, the notorious lover. As a lover, I am both infamous and notorious. Have you never done an interview before? Did you not hear the stories about me? As to what I look for in a woman, she should be lovely, of course, tall and willowy, with long, cascading hair. But she should also be able to work and cook and clean, so she can have big, muscular arms.
Interviewer: Ah, I think I know where this is going. You like a big, strong woman who can slap you around a little, don’t you.
Sonny: No, do not be ridiculous! It is only so she can work hard, supporting me if necessary.
Interviewer: Fine, I’ll take your word for it, for now. But I know what you like, and know your penchant for falling for women who keep a tight rein on you.
Sonny: Contrary to the ugly rumors that persist about me, no woman has ever put a bridle on Sonny the Scoundrel.
Author: What about a riding crop?
Sonny: No comment. What happened to your questions about the women I prefer?
Author: Right. So, tall and with long hair and big biceps is how you like your women. What else? A good sense of humor?
Sonny: No.
Interviewer: Wealthy?
Sonny: Certainly. That goes without saying.
Interviewer: What about personality?
Sonny: Optional.
Interviewer: Come on, that is the most important part of finding love, isn’t it? What was it about Ariella that drew you to her?
Sonny: Fair enough. Ariella has personality, and loads of it. She is a very smart girl and knows how to get the better in any business deal.
Interviewer: And your respect that? Admire her for it?
Sonny: Of course.
Interviewer: But could you trust her?
Sonny: Certainly not!
Interviewer: Then how could you find her so attractive?
Sonny: It is … I suppose because she is so much like me, both strikingly beautiful on the outside, and ruthless and calculating on the inside.
Interviewer: So, what is the probability of impending marriage?
Sonny: Pretty good, if she plays her cards right.
How will you survive on your own once Grandpap is gone?
Interviewer: Sonny, how old is your grandfather, the wizard Zuthar Zaeffom?
Sonny: Older than the oldest tree in the forest.
Interviewer: And how old would that be?
Sonny: He must be drawing up on one-hundred and fifty years of age.
Interviewer: That old? How old are you?
Sonny: Thirty-three.
Interviewer: So then, hold on, if your mother was thirty when she gave birth to you, then at the time you were born, Grandpap would be around one-hundred?
Sonny: If you say so. I never engage in tasks so mundane as mathematics. It is quite beneath me.
Interviewer: Have you never wondered how old your grand-sire was when he begat your mother?
Sonny: No.
Interviewer: So, in your world, it is of no concern to bear a child out of wedlock?
Sonny: It is considered most inappropriate.
Interviewer: Then how did your Grandpap avoid being punished by the villagers?
Sonny: He is a wizard! No one talks back to a wizard. He can do what he wants, when he wants.
Interviewer: Then what about you? What will you do when he is dead and is no longer around to protect you whenever you get your … tail feathers in a trap?
Sonny: It will be a problem, I am sure. No one in the village cares overmuch for me. When Grandpap kicks off, I will not have a champion here.
Interviewer: What will happen?
Sonny: The villagers will likely chase me into the woods with torches and scythes.
Interviewer: What is your plan for that day?
Sonny: Plan? I have no plan … save running for my life.
If you could have only one wizarding power, what would it be?
Interviewer: Sonny, if you could have only one wizarding power, what would it be?
Sonny: That is the most difficult question you have asked me. There are so many magical powers I have coveted. Let me see. Of course, my first thought is that I crave the desire to turn objects into goald.
Interviewer: Alchemy?
Sonny: Yes, most definitely. Then I could glamour any number of stones or twigs to look like goald, and I would be able to drink for free every day for the rest of my life.
Interviewer: What about the ability to mesmerize?
Sonny: True, that would be a wonderful magical power to wield. But at times it could be a bothersome amount of work to push people around. I would much rather they anticipate what I wanted and do it without needing to be compelled by me.
What is your most outrageous secret?
Interviewer: Tell us, Sonny the Scoundrel, what is your most outrageous secret?
Sonny: What secret do I harbour that I would never want anyone to know? Only that I am a warm, sensitive, and caring person deep inside.
Interviewer: Oh, come on! I read the story.
Sonny: What do you mean?
Interviewer: I suppose there could be a good person hidden deep inside of you, but no one has ever seen that side of Sonny Zaeffom. Seriously, what would shock the people who know you if they were ever to find out?
Sonny: Truly, I have no secrets.
Interviewer: I could interview everyone in your village and dig up some dirt.
Sonny: Oh, very well. My shameful secret is that I once tricked a visitor to our village into dressing up as a … no, that was not a secret. Ummm, you will tell this to no one?
Interviewer: Of course not. What?
Sonny: Strange, as I have never told this to anyone, and have buried it so deeply in my memory that I have not thought about it in years.
Interviewer: Go on.
Sonny: As the grandson of a wizard, it is no secret that I have a pedigree that shames every other person around me. I never violate my station in life by doing common labor. Work is for peasants and dull-witted clods. But despite that, I once … umm, this is very hard for me to talk about.
Interviewer: Take your time. Would you like a cup of tea?
Sonny: Do you have any ale? Tea does not loosen tongues. As I was saying, I had occasion to visit a distant relative several years ago, who lived in a distant village. Hagan was a cooper in the village of Trowspood, widowed and with a small daughter. His daughter was exceptionally cute, only five years old, with curly brown hair and the most serious eyes I had ever seen. When I arrived, he was finishing an order of oak barrels. Hagan’s customer had arrived with a wagon and waited for Hagan to finish the last barrel.
Interviewer: What did you do during this time?
Sonny: I … played with the child. I entertained her, played games with her, and kept her busy and happy until Hagan had finished his business. There was not much day left. Hagan cooked an evening meal and we talked and downed a few ales, then went to bed. By the next morning, when I set out to walk home, she was calling me “Da-Da.” Is that not the most wonderful thing you have ever heard?
Interviewer: So your deep, dark secret is that you once spent a day with a young child and actually didn’t hate the experience?
Sonny: Umm … yes. Do not think me a monster.
Interviewer: Well, as sordid as that all sounds, you haven’t answered my question, haven’t admitted to some dark, hidden personal shame. What is so bad about being tricked into doing manual labor? Or amusing a small child for a few hours?
Sonny: You really expect me to answer that?
Interviewer: Yes, I do. Or I shall not give you this shiny, new quarter, as promised.
Sonny: Oh, very well! Why is it painful to talk about? Because I actually enjoyed it! I labored with my hands, cleaning the child’s face when she was covered in food, and carrying her around like a mere pack animal. Several people in Trowspood saw me do so. At least they were not aware of how I debased myself, did not know who I was or where I was from. There, are you happy now?
What is the most dastardly deed you have ever done?
Interviewer: Sonny, what is the most dastardly deed you have ever done?
Sonny: Oh, I cannot pick a single favourite out of all of my achievements.
Interviewer: It doesn’t have to be the worst thing you have ever done, just one of the many really terrible things you have done.
Sonny: Very well, but it is still a difficult choice for me to make. Let me see. Once, when Abnelius and I went to Cappersham’s tavern in the early afternoon, Abnelius drank so much that he fell over outside the tavern and I could not rouse him, he was so besotted.
Interviewer: So the dastardly deed was that you were a bad influence on this Abnelius fellow?
Sonny: Oh, no, I was not the bad influence, Abnelius was. That is not what the story is about. Abnelius is as old as Grandpap, but much shorter and scrawnier, with skinny little bow legs. But he can put away the ale, he can. But on this particular evening, he did not hold it well, and staggered outside to relieve himself and did not return. When I found him, I could not get him to wake up.
Interviewer: That sounds like a problem.
Sonny: Surely it was! He was buying. And without him, Capper would not let me back into his tavern.
Interviewer: What did you do?
Sonny: What could I do? I waited for him to revive, to regain his senses.
Interviewer: Are you telling me that you waited patiently for him to sober up?
Sonny: Of course not! I searched his pack until I found one of his energy slugs. They can revive a besotted man quite quickly. You just slip one up–
Interviewer: No! I don’t want to hear any more, not about the slug. So then, when he revived, you two went back to drinking?
Sonny: Yes. But before I administered the slug, I … ummm, changed his attire a bit.
Interviewer: I’m afraid to ask, but … what did you do?
Sonny: Dressed him up like a girl. He did not notice. But the men in the tavern did. They thought it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. I had a fancy bonnet on his head, and nicked Roswitha Ulver’s bloomers, the bonnet and bloomers where the only clothes on him. And I rouged his lips up to a bright red.
Interviewer: What happened then?
Sonny: A fight, of course. Abnelius may not have been alert enough to tell what I had done to him, but he had enough wits to lose his temper. Abnelius is always able to lose his temper. So when the mule drover laughed at him, he lit into the drover like a rooster after a bull.
Interviewer: Was he injured?
Sonny: Abnelius? No. He may be a scrawny old wizard, but he is still a wizard. And he fights dirty. It was one hell of a scrap, it was.
Interviewer: What were you doing during this time?
Sonny: I did the only thing I could do, under the circumstances. I slipped around and drank every cup dry as the other people in the tavern watched the fight.
What is your most secret ambition?
Interviewer: Let’s talk about your future. What is Sonny Zaeffom’s one secret ambition? What is the one thing you would most like to do in life?
Sonny: One thing? Hmmm. Well, this may sound rather bizarre to you.
Interviewer: Go on.
Sonny: I was once told a crazy story by Grandpap’s best friend, Abnelius.
Interviewer: Who is that?
Sonny: Abnelius is a wizard from a nearby village. He specializes in healing. He and Grandpap have been best friends forever—and Grandpap is very old, one-hundred forty-five, I believe. Anyway, Abnelius comes by on occasion to visit Grandpap, to eat and drink and share an evening. Abnelius is even stranger than Grandpap, which is quite a feat—though all wizards are mighty strange. Anyway, one night when Grandpap had to go and do some magical chore for a neighbor, Abnelius and I had a good time, drinking all the ale in our house. Just for fun, I asked Abnelius to tell me about alchemy, and he told me about Grandpap’s younger days, when he my grandsire was considered the most likely up-and-coming wizard, the wizard most likely to solve the riddle of alchemy. Abnelius told me all about Grandpap’s alchemy wand, how it seemed to actually work, and how a rival wizard caused it to be destroyed.
Interviewer: This is all very interesting, but do you have a point? What does this have to do with your secret ambition?
Sonny: Do have some patience. Abnelius claimed that Grandpap had figured out the secret of alchemy and was on the cusp of becoming the most successful and acclaimed wizard of his generation. But then it was ruined by a rival wizard, supposedly when that wizard was under the influence of … too much ale. So, in jest, I said to Abnelius, would it not be most wonderful if one could use a magical wand to both conduct alchemy and stir up a fine drink?
Interviewer: What did your friend Abnelius say?
Sonny: He gave me a sideways look and asked how I had heard such a strange tale. I told him it was not a tale, but just a thought that had come to me in the moment. Abnelius grew serious and informed me there were rumours in the wizarding community that such a thing was possible, that it was possible to construct a wand which could create both spirituous drink and goald.
Interviewer: What is your secret ambition?
Sonny: I would do almost anything to have such a wand, to be able to sit back, wave a wand, and create a fine drink at a moment’s notice. One would not even need goald, then, would one?
Interviewer: That is tremendously ambitious of you.
Sonny: Indeed! But I have even more ambition than that.
Interviewer: Do tell.
Sonny: You will wonder why you did not think of this. What would you do if you had a wand, a wonderful and powerful magical implement, wherein you did not even have to go through two separate incantations to make goald and fine drink?
Interviewer: I have no idea what you are talking about.
Sonny: Of course not! You are not the genius that I am. But I suppose you want to know what I am hinting about?
Interviewer: I suppose I can’t end this interview until you tell me?
Sonny: Very well, if you insist. My secret ambition, what I would do if I had such a wand, is … please, remain seated for your own good. I would be able to mix up a fine drink with the wand, then after I tossed it down, the magical wand would do its duty and strange things would happen inside me, just as you must suspect by now.
Interviewer: I have been suspecting strange things going on inside you since the beginning of this interview. What, pray tell, would be the result?
Sonny: The drink would produce goald in my bowels. What do you think of that?
Interviewer: Your secret ambition is to, to—
Sonny: Yes. I would be the first person to have shat out goald.
Interviewer: This interview is over. Does your Grandpap have any potion that could wipe the last few minutes from my memory?
Sonny is so handsome, he doesn’t need magic to get what he wants, except when he gets into trouble. And, he’ll do anything for love or money, except work. So, the thought of marriage represents the worst of all possible worlds, a danger he avoids at all costs.
His plans for getting rich the easy way—by stealing—go awry when he meets Ariella. She is not only lovely to look at, but just may be as slippery and greedy as he. Better still, she becomes highly stimulated at the prospect of helping him hijack a treasure.
But, in addition to helping him steal “goald”, the cunning Ariella might just steal his scoundrel heart.
Story Excerpt
“Tell me where you hid the amulet.” Her lips touched my ear lobe and I almost lost control of my spleen. “Confess your theft, and I will reward you, will complete the passionate interlude left unconsummated last night.”
“For you, my dear, I would confess anything.”
“Go on, do tell.”
“I confess my desire for you, my passion is aroused by your touch.”
“That is not what I want to hear. Confess you took the amulet, and tell where you hid it.”
“I will.” My heartbeats pounded in my ears. “But first, caress my trouser weasel, stroke it as you were doing last night.”
“Oh, no,” she cooed into my ear. “You tell me where the chicken foot is, and then you will be rewarded.”
I smiled to myself, despite my predicament. Such moments in life were few and far between, moments when fools thought they had the better of me, then discovered they needed to curry my favour, instead of the other way around. “My dear, I will confess nothing. Abler men than you—well, men, at least—have tried to break my spirit, and all have failed.”
“Where is the chicken foot?” she hissed, grasping my ear and twisting it. The pain was sharp and delicious.
“I do not know!” Strangely, it was true.
“Liar! Tell me, or I shall kick you.”
“Kick me if you must, but I refuse to tell you.” I fervently hoped she would carry through her threat. “What will you do with the wedding gifts? I shall tell the people of your village it was all your idea.”
“Oh, my! Dear me!” Ariella responded, mock fear dripping from her lovely lips. “Do you think they will believe you, a stranger, over a beautiful and innocent young girl?” She punctuated the question by kicking me in the gut.
“That did not hurt,” I lied. “Throw your whole body into it. Do you have a pair of pointy shoes? Kicking me with pointy shoes might at least discomfit me…while you are kicking, at least. The pain fades almost immediately and you shall never get the truth out of me at this rate.”
Where to Buy
Roane Publishing
Amazon
Amazon UK
Barnes and Noble (Coming soon)
KOBO (Coming soon)
Smashwords
Bookstrand
Goodreads
About Sonny Zae
Sonny Zae lives in a small town on the edge of reality. His only remarkable characteristic is imagination. He ignored his grade school teacher’s repeated admonitions to stop daydreaming and get to work.
Sonny’s book WIZARD SEEKING TROPHY BRIDE, is also available on Kindle. It is a story about the exceptional difficulties involved in finding love and happiness for an elderly and strange wizard, not to mention the difficulties of dealing with an elderly relative—an elderly relative who is also a wizard.
Marvelous Monday Reads: Open World – C.O.V.E.N.
Yes, it’s Monday once again, angels! Let’s ease into the week with another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads with Open World – C.O.V.E.N. by Casey Moss. Here’s a peek at how Open World came to be:
The world of C.O.V.E.N. (Clans of Vegas – Endless Night) first appeared in Evernight Publishing’s anthology Keyboards & Kink (available here: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/keyboards-and-kink/ & at other fine e-tailers) in Casey’s story, AFK.
In AFK, we saw a peek into I-D-8 Entertainment’s in-production MMORPG: Clans of Vegas – Endless Night, also known as C.O.V.E.N. when Beth and another gamer got sucked into the game for real.
Now, when it comes to Open World, it’s actually made up of parts from two novellas that had been previously published. Those stories were my very first published ones released in 2008 under my alter ego’s name. A few years ago, I received the rights back on them, and they sat in a file until this year. There’s been some major work done to revamp them from a sci-fi’ish plot to the computer gaming one present in the book today. I am so excited these stories, and more to come in the C.O.V.E.N. world, have found new life and a great new home with Evernight Publishing.
In the story, Open World, some of the employees of I-D-8 have joined together for a LAN party to test the game. For definitions on the computer gaming term: open world, check out http://www.techopedia.com/definition/3952/sandbox-gaming.
The world has broken out in wars. Las Vegas has been ravaged by chemical warfare and is now home to several clans and creatures.
Welcome to I-D-8 Entertainment’s newest game: Clans of Vegas—Endless Night.
Friends and family have gathered for a crunch time playtest of C.O.V.E.N.. When a horrible thunderstorm hits, everyone’s sucked into the game for real. In the MMORPG, Hope Collins is kidnapped by Buzz and forced to submit to his whims. Her boyfriend, Alden, has to delay his quest of defeating a clan’s prince to save her, but time and circumstance don’t seem to be on his side. Faith Collins is bombarded by strange dreams brought on by Buzz. Her boyfriend, Tavis, learns to dream walk, but can he help break the spell she’s under and save her before she’s lost to him?
C.O.V.E.N. is more than just a game. It’s a whole other world.
Story Excerpt
He homed in on the guy, and repulsive vibes poured over him. Thoughts, full of ill intent, infiltrated his mind.
The man’s here to claim. Conquer. End game…power.
The prince had changed his name, but to what he didn’t know. He couldn’t fault the man on that kind of switch. He and his buddy, Tavis, had assigned themselves new names, too.
Alias or no, though, the royal’s presence was a cause for high concern.
Does he know of mine and Tav’s existence? Our ultimate mission?
He calmed his thoughts, fixated on the man again. Answer—negative. Good.
The prince didn’t know about the two of them, but the man did have the same plan…make nice with the family to apprehend one of the two daughters, or the cousin if need be.
He snorted. Same plan. Yeah, right. In the prince’s case, his eagerness to have one of the women stemmed from nefarious reasons.
Den’s eyes shot open. The black of the grill and the off-white concrete appeared less vibrant than they had moments before. The light of day dimmed more. He blinked, then looked up. The sky had darkened with the formation of thick gray clouds. The forecast had mentioned a thirty percent chance of showers, but everyone believed if it were to rain it wouldn’t happen until much later or the storm would fizzle after it spent itself in the upper elevations.
Frustrated over his uneasiness due to the perplexing vibes, his trying to rationalize the afternoon and the changing weather, he ran his fingers through his hair.
And what the fuck were all those thoughts about? Mirroring that of my C.O.V.E.N. character and the quests I’ve been on? Nothing like this ever’s happened before. Did the programmers do something to the game to affect us?
As one of the level designers on the development team, he’d been a part of the alpha-testing and minor playtests during the creation process. Mr. Gott, the head honcho of the whole design department, thought implementing a lot of tests along the way would cut down on major changes during the last phases. From what he understood, the closed-beta test he, Mr. Gott and several others had performed a handful of weeks ago to check a couple of clans, hadn’t turned out as well as expected. Hence the LAN party, a crunch time playtest to see what was going on before they implemented another beta run. All the designers and programmers, along with any friends and family members who were interested in giving C.O.V.E.N. a try, were present.
Except if there’s something in the game that’s going to mind fuck everyone, shouldn’t we call it a day? I didn’t sign on for crap like this. I’m sure no one else has either.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
About Casey Moss
Casey Moss delves into the darker aspects of life in her writing, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the light-hearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…
Where to find Casey Moss
Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
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 the last teaser from “The Art of Grant Management,” which will be coming out in Evernight’s Executive Assistant Manlove Edition. And you can thank all the people who kept saying, “We want to see MORE of Peter and Quincy” for this tease!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
“I’m not what you would call … experienced. I’ve played before, but it was some time ago.”
He pulled back and saw a contemplative Quincy. “Are you willing to learn?” the smaller man asked. “I’ll help you, but you’ll need to follow my lead at times.”
Peter smirked. “More topping from the bottom?”
“For awhile. Although I get the feeling you’ll pick things up very quickly.” Quincy’s entire stance changed, becoming more pliant and far more deliciously submissive. “So, what exactly do you like, Sir?”
“Doctor, if you don’t mind.”
The admin rolled his eyes. “Why does that not surprise me? Doctor,” he added belatedly.
Peter allowed himself a thin smile. “You’ll pay for that, pet.” He settled into the dominance, feeling it close around him like a well-loved jacket unworn for far too long. “As for what I like, I enjoy controlling my partner’s pleasure and orgasm,” he continued. “Teasing them, making them beg, drawing everything out until all they can think of is me. I’ll use whatever appeals to me to achieve that — bondage and discipline, edging, orgasm denial, sensual torture.” One corner of his mouth quirked higher. “I have to admit, I’m not much of an out and out sadist. I hope you weren’t after that.”
“Nope. I’m a sucky masochist.”
“Mm.” He pressed against Quincy, feeling the other man’s growing erection against his thigh. “That being said, what about spankings?”
Quincy shivered. “Oh, well. Those are really, really necessary,” he breathed. “Like, on a daily basis. Because I don’t know if you noticed this at all, but I’m kinda mouthy.”
“Oh, I noticed. Take off your tie.”
Two minutes later, Quincy was over his lap, trousers pulled down around his knees. The admin’s hands were bound behind his back with Peter’s tie, and his own tie had been carefully knotted and shoved in his mouth as a gag. Peter ran his fingertips over the cool, firm mounds of Quincy’s ass, enjoying the feel of muscle with just the right amount of padding. It would jiggle deliciously during a spanking.
He leaned to the left, eying Quincy’s reddening face. The pressure of the man’s erect cock against his right thigh indicated just how much the admin was enjoying this. “Safeword?” he inquired.
Quincy gave three short grunts. “Good. I think I’m going to start you off easy,” Peter said. “Let’s say ten swats because it’s a nice round number?”
He stiffened his hand and struck, jolting Quincy forward and eliciting a surprised grunt. Lifting his palm, he saw a perfect pink outline of outstretched fingers on the other man’s skin. “That’s one.”
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New from Evernight: Planet Alpha #planetalpha
Announcing Evernight Publishing’s exclusive series…
PLANET ALPHA
The year is 2050. Earth is quickly becoming uninhabitable. The seven continents are shrinking as flooding devastates the land masses. Crime and disorder are rampant among the dwindling human population.
There are only two safe havens in the galaxy capable of supporting humanoid life. Xyran is a world of power-hungry demons and Planet Alpha is home to a fearless warrior race.
The males on Planet Alpha need mates. Infertility has plagued their race for decades. The answer lies on Earth where tempting females are waiting to be saved. When their enemies attempt to claim the spoils of a dying world, only the strongest will get their prize.
The first book in this sci-fi ménage series is here:
BONDMATE by J.J. Lore
BONDMATE is now available on Evernight Publishing and most major online book retailers.
BROKEN by Erin M. Leaf
(Coming May 16)
PROPOSITION by Beth D. Carter
(Coming Soon)
Look for more PLANET ALPHA books coming soon to Evernight!
Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
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 “The Art of Grant Management,” which was just purchased this week by Evernight for their Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition antho, woohoo!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
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Peter sent the email, then started pacing his office, hoping that the (admittedly subtle) message would be received correctly.
His hopes were fulfilled as a sharp staccato knock sounded on the door. It opened and Quincy peered around it. “You bellowed?”
For a millisecond, Peter hesitated. The admin looked tired, which was hardly surprising after the day they’d all had. Then again, fortune favors the brave. The worst he’ll say is no. “Come in, please.”
The admin did, closing the door behind him. Peter very deliberately leaned past him and turned the lock.
Quincy glanced over his shoulder at the locked door. “Let me guess — you’ve snapped from the pressure and you’re going to strangle me with the tubing from a Bunsen burner,” he quipped, going for a joking tone and not quite making it. “I should warn you, three different people saw me walk in here. You’ll never get away with it.”
Peter wanted to smile at the other man’s obvious nervousness. I’m right, I know I’m right. “I just wanted to talk to you in private, that’s all.”
“Oh. Talk.” Watching Quincy’s face go from casual to worried, then back to a mock casual that didn’t hide the worry very well, would have been hilarious in any other situation. The admin shoved his hands in his pants pockets, squinting up at Peter. “Uh, yeah, okay. So, uh, what do you want to talk about?”
“This.” Moving deliberately, he closed the distance between them and pulled Quincy’s hands out of his pockets. In one smooth move he raised them over the other man’s head, pinning the admin against the door. “You, John Quincy, are a brat,” he said, allowing a strict sort of fondness into his tone. “You have been a brat since you started here, and I’ve decided to do something about that.”
Quincy tensed, and for one horrible moment Peter thought he’d misjudged the situation. His brain was already frantically putting together a stammered apology when the admin’s eyes went dark and he relaxed into Peter’s grip. “Finally,” he murmured. “Jesus, doc, I was wondering if I’d have to trip and fall ass-up across your lap.”
Peter smothered a relieved sigh. “Yes, well, you can hardly blame me for my confusion. You don’t act very submissive.”
“Have you ever heard of topping from the bottom?”
“Mm.” He leaned in, pushing a knee between Quincy’s thighs. “I have a confession to make.”
#
What’s Peter’s confession? I’m afraid you’ll have to read Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition to find out! Muwahahahaha!
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Nicola Cameron Writes 