Thursday, February 23, 2017

Excerpt from The Property of Twin Dragons by Berengaria Brown

Part of the NAUGHTY NOVELLAS boxed-set, available for pre-order at a special introductory price of $0.99 during February

Twin dragons Drake and Dragun are convinced Lois is their mate. But is she stealing from the company? And why won’t she talk to them?

Genre/theme: Menage, dragon shape-shifter

Copyright © Berengaria Brown, 2017


Lois sighed. The yummy-looking clients couldn’t have bought much, if anything then, since Mr. Mallory was downsizing the company again. Well damn, that was disappointing. The one who’d spoken had seemed so nice. For the first time, Lois began to worry that maybe there wasn’t a problem with the accounts. Maybe what she was seeing was a company sliding into bankruptcy. Her elderly parents couldn’t support her and neither could her siblings. Stacy was separated with a son to rear on her own, and Don had a nice house and a good job, but he also had a wife and three children to support. No, she was on her own, and she needed a job.

The moment Lois got home, she opened up her laptop and looked at the employment ads. As soon as she listed her location as Ohio, the number of vacancies for an experienced bookkeeper dropped from over one hundred to five. Just five. The good news was that the starting salary for every one of them was higher than what she was earning. The bad news was that Lois suspected there’d be a hell of a lot of applicants for each vacancy.

She’d lived her whole life in Ohio. Was she willing to move somewhere else? Maybe somewhere warmer with shorter winters and less snow? That was something she ought to think about.

Sighing, she pulled up her old resume and began to update it. The problem was she hadn’t really done anything very exciting. Just the kind of tasks any bookkeeper could do. By nine that night, she realized that she’d been stuck in a rut for years and hadn’t noticed. She had more than enough work to do, but nothing was new or challenging or different. Nothing had been the kind of task that would urge an employer to call her in for an interview.

It was no use asking Mr. Mallory to let her try some new work. He was very much in control and gave out jobs piecemeal without explanations. The last thing he’d be willing to do was help her upskill to get a better job or a pay increase.

Damn. She was going to be shit out of luck if the company went down. She would have to seriously consider leaving family and friends behind her and going somewhere else? But where?

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the computer screen. Her tummy rumbling reminded her she hadn’t eaten yet, so she stood up to heat her soup, and as she did, her cell phone rang. She snatched her purse and riffled through it for her cell, hoping the call wouldn’t drop out before she found the phone. “Yes?” she asked breathlessly as “withheld number” appeared on the screen.

“Lois McCubbin, this is Drake Kelekona,” a deep, rich, and sexy voice said.

For a moment Lois thought it was a salesperson and was about to end the call when the sexy voice penetrated her brain. “The man who came to the office last week? Why are you calling me?”

“I’m calling because I can’t get the image of your smiling face out of my mind. So I thought you might like to have dinner with me on Saturday night at Urbane. I could pick you up at seven.”

Lois was left staring at her cell phone. It had been years since someone had invited her out for dinner, and she’d never been to Urbane. That was one of the nicest restaurants in the city. Her brain kept telling her to say no, that she didn’t know this man, no matter how sexy his voice might be and how good looking his body was. But her empty tummy was bouncing with delight at the thought of a nice meal for once, and her pride was involved now that someone was flattering her.

“Please don’t let me down. Say yes, dear Lois,” came the sexy voice.

Almost as if he’d brainwashed her, she replied, “Yes.” Then her brain kicked into gear. “I’ll meet you in the foyer there at seven. Thank you very much for the invitation.”

“I do like a woman who says invitation instead of invite. I’ll be waiting for you in the foyer at seven.”

Lois sank back into her chair, all thoughts of soup, resumes, and job searches gone from her mind. Instead, she was focused on a pair of brilliant blue eyes in an incredibly handsome face. He asked me out to dinner. That’s unbelievable. Me!

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Excerpt from TROPIC OF PLEASURE by Tina Donahue

Part of the NAUGHTY NOVELLAS boxed-set, available for pre-order at a special introductory price of $0.99 during February

The one woman they shouldn’t want. Two Doms she can’t resist. Bondage, submission, punishment beyond her wildest desires. Cara’s wanted Hud and Ryder forever. Her dream finally comes true during a smoking-hot weekend on a private island.
*This previously published title has been revised and reedited.*


Genre/theme: BDSM, menage

Copyright © Tina Donahue, 2017


Cara had heard about the wicked games Hud and Ryder played and, by god, she wanted in on them. Having both men tie her up, strip her bare, making her fully vulnerable to their hands, mouths and cocks…to discipline her until she wailed in delight, followed by their tender caresses.

Okay, so sweet intimacy from them was stretching it. The problem wasn’t that they were bad guys; they were disgustingly honorable when it came to her. Cara had met them when she was eighteen, shortly after they’d started their business. That was ten endless years ago. More than enough time to learn they weren’t looking for commitment with any woman, especially her.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun together. When it came to rowdy sex laced with a heavy dose of kink, Cara could be as wild as all their other babes, even though there were obstacles to her desire. The least of which was her continued inability to tell them what she really wanted.

Hud suddenly glanced up from her report on the company’s newest project. Rather than ask any particulars about it, he seemed surprised she was ogling him and stared back.

A wave of heat rolled through Cara, as warming as a slug of good booze or an impassioned kiss.

God, he was something, at thirty-three definitely in his prime. Several locks of toffee-colored hair grazed his forehead; others curled around his ears, his haircut shaggy and relaxed, in perfect accord with a Palm Beach lifestyle. No different from his bronzed complexion, a delicious contrast to his cool gray eyes fringed with dark, unspeakably long lashes. His shadow of beard was beyond lickable, his rich mouth impossible to resist.

Shivering slightly, Cara imagined him pleasuring and imprisoning her with his hard bod, an easy task for such a large man. At six-three he was huge, all lean muscle and endless testosterone.

Carnal hunger, vaguely predatory, flared in his eyes, then was extinguished before it got out of hand. Clearly he didn’t intend to get down and dirty with her, as he had with his countless girlfriends. Cara had a good idea why he and Ryder had never hit on her but needed to coax them past their reluctance.

As though to put distance between himself and that thought, Hud leaned back in his chair. Today he’d worn brown slacks and a pale-yellow dress shirt, the sleeves folded back, exposing the bold tribal tat on his forearm.

Her mouth watered at the dark swirls and slashes. Glancing lower, she savored the impressive bulge behind his fly.

He shifted his weight in caution or arousal, hard to tell which.

“Thanks for the report.” His words rasped faintly. “You did a good job.”

Good had nothing to do with what Cara needed and finally had to have. “Thanks.”
She inched her attention to Ryder.

Finishing his sip of water, he continued to study her chest.

It took an enormous amount of will not to pull in her shoulders, hiding herself. 

Growing up, Cara had always been the big, plump or fat girl, whatever the snotty term happened to be that bullies used to taunt her. Thankfully, Kim Kardashian had finally wiggled onto the scene, making meaty bottoms and large breasts not only fashionable but also drool-worthy.

Ryder’s prominent Adam’s apple bobbed with another hard swallow. Hotter than a Greek god, he wore his dark blond hair long and tied back with a leather cord that was the same shade as his dreamy brown eyes. He was as tall as Hud, with the same chiseled body, his complexion golden from days spent in the sun, his bristly upper lip, cheeks and chin tantalizing, the bad boy look not at all tamed by his mint-blue dress shirt and navy pants.

Cara wanted to tear the clothes off him and lick his tiny nipples, pendulous cock, lightly furred balls, all while inhaling deeply of his leather-and-spice scent.
Hud’s was woodsy, tinged with musk, warm and seductive, making her want to eat him like a longed-for treat.

The smutty thoughts had her head swimming. She could barely catch her breath at what she was about to do, having waited too long as it was.

Hud studied her. “Is there anything else you’d like to show us?”

Was there ever. Cara hadn’t asked for this meeting to talk about work. “I want in.”

Both men looked so clueless it made them downright endearing.

“In on what?” Hud asked.

Clearly, she’d been too cryptic but had to take a second to gather her thoughts. His rich baritone had distracted her. “On being your and Ryder’s submissive.”

Their confusion fell away replaced by an expression only a prosecutor could love—the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights look.

Hud left his chair so quickly it rolled into the one next to it, causing it to bump against the granite conference table. After closing the door, he regarded the arched windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, exposing the room’s interior to the rest of the office and to anyone on the outside. Hazy sun streamed through the glass. Beyond it, squat palms, ferns, and flowers in a rainbow of colors fluttered in the humid breeze. In the outer office, two staff members walked past the room, not bothering to glance at whatever was going on inside.

They probably thought it was purely business, given the building model on the end of the table. Although Cara was a newly licensed architect—at the bottom of the pecking order, so to speak—she’d been responsible for many aspects of the mansion’s design, using the company’s 3D printer to essentially bring it to life.

Hud and Ryder looked like death, their complexions paling beneath their tans.

Cara hoped their reactions were a result of her knowing their secret or because of who she was rather than the unthinkable…they simply didn’t want her. Forcing herself to be brave, she leaned up and tried to soothe. “If you’re worried that making me your sub will be a problem, it won’t be. I swear.” She continued to speak quietly so no one would overhear. “Same with the kink. The wilder, the better.”

Ryder stared, as though she’d spoken fluent Martian, then effortlessly regained his composure. “I don’t know where you got the idea that we were into—”

“I just heard about it from a reliable source.” God, what a revelation that had been. For hours afterward, Cara had found it impossible to concentrate on work.

Hud frowned. “You heard about it from whom?”

A woman who used to work here, not that Cara was about to say that. “Why?”

Ryder stopped squeezing his water bottle and put the poor squished plastic on the table. 

“We’d like to know who started this insane rumor.”

“Then you guys don’t enjoy BDSM? By the way, that’s—”

“We know what it is,” Hud said. He worked his mouth, obviously trying not to smile.
Cara wished he would. The deep dimple in his right cheek made her panties wet. Not waiting for it, she nodded and went for broke. “Then let’s do it. I swear it’ll be totally hot and no way in hell will my father ever find out.”

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Excerpt from ANYTHING YOU WANT by Tina Donahue

Part of the NAUGHTY NOVELLAS boxed-set, available for pre-order at a special introductory price of $0.99 during February

At a hedonistic resort, her indecent cravings will be sated…
With the big three-o days away, Jamie’s had it with dieting, exercises, and being alone. Off she goes to Wicked Desires, a decadent Caribbean resort where carnal appetites rule and billionaires Creed and Tav crave a woman exactly like her.
*This previously published title has been revised and reedited.*


Genre/theme: Menage

Copyright © Tina Donahue, 2017


Jamie Parker paused outside the get-acquainted lounge of Wicked Desires resort, the place to go when you wanted to be bad. She stared, not moving, as though facing the portal to Hell.

Come on, you can do this.

She hadn’t sweated it out at the gym for months, poured thousands into this trip, and flown all the way from Seattle to Jamaica to chicken out now. Her fantasy awaited as the online brochures had gushed.

Those photos of grinning men and women had seemed wonderfully exciting on her laptop.

Now that she was here, anxiety constricted her throat. Ignoring the unpleasant sensation, Jamie took a gulp of her frozen cocktail that a staff member had slapped into her hand minutes before, no doubt having sensed her panic. The drink—known as a lava flow—stalled in her chest and caused an ache like a muscle cramp with a new wave of pain shooting to the center of her forehead.

Gawd. Gritting her teeth at the stabbing pain, she pictured herself having a heart attack or stroke before enjoying one second here.

In this palace of hedonism, a guest wasn’t supposed to suffer but indulge in reckless excess whether it involved fucking, shopping, countless sports activities, theme-oriented wishes, or food. A regular Fantasy Island, just like the old TV program. She’d signed up for the food package. In between mouthfuls of savory delights, she hoped to have a little fun…talking and laughing with guys, hugging, kissing, possibly wild monkey sex.

Her legs wobbled.

Growing up, Jamie had never been the pretty, petite, always-desired girl. Oh no. She was wholesome looking, at best, possibly cute in a Katie Couric way, and definitely curvy. The C word, which she supposed was better than having anyone call her the F word. In preparation for this debauched jaunt, she’d starved herself and exercised her butt and thighs until they were rock hard, but she would never fit into a size-one pair of jeans. Hell, she would have traded several years of her life to get into a size eight.
Wasn’t in her future, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun like everyone else before her time ran out.

Several days from now, she’d turn thirty, and she already felt older than the universe. The coming week was a birthday gift to herself, and by god, she was going to enjoy this place if it killed her.

Licking pineapple juice from the corner of her mouth, she looked over and gaped at the guy who strolled up, naked as the day he’d been born. One of the few no-nos at Wicked Desires. This lounge was for newbies, a designated prude section. The clothing-optional parts of the resort surrounded it.

Jamie had already decided to keep on her duds in those spots. Taking peeks of everyone else’s assets would have to be enough.

Naked Guy seemed unaware of his nudity as well as the resort rules as he casually perused the crowd of new guests, most in their twenties or thirties. White sand stuck to the backs of his thighs and ass, looking like granulated sugar. He wore leather sandals, a seamless tan, coconut-scented suntan oil, and a beginning erection, his cock blossoming from a nest of dark brown curls.

Jamie suspected he’d spotted the young women in the lounge, their boobs and asses spilling out of their microscopic bikinis. Surely, his display of virility wasn’t to impress her. Given Jamie’s floral crop top and sarong, she’d practically dressed like a nun.

Sucking more of her drink, she waited for his cock to go from a flaccid three inches to five or six tops. She had no idea what the rest of him looked like, unable to tear her attention away from his rod and balls, as if she’d never seen a set before.

Ha. She was an old hand at finding photos of naked men on Tumblr and other online sites. As far as seeing a guy’s equipment up close and personal… In the fifteen years she’d been dating, she’d gotten down and dirty with four men. She wasn’t a virgin.

“Sir.” A staff member hurried to the guy, smiling apologetically at Jamie as their eyes met.

Given the young woman’s crisp white shirt, walking shorts, knee socks, and Oxfords, she looked like a hospital attendant for lunatics in this part of the world.

“Our lounge requires you to be dressed,” the staffer said to him, very gently as if she didn’t want to bruise his ego.

Jamie peeked at his face. He appeared to be in his early twenties, cute in a Justin Bieber kind of way, and totally nonchalant about displaying his nudity. He continued to scratch the pelt above his shaft.

“I couldn’t find the concierge,” he said. “Thought he might be in here.”

“He’s in the Wicked Wishes room. Please, follow me.”

The guy’s ass cheeks bounced like rubber balls as he trailed after the staff member.

Hauling in a deep breath, she dragged into the lounge, her legs feeling as though concrete encased them, while her stomach continued to roll. So much for having a great time.

Loosen up, dammit. Mingle.

She downed more of her drink then regarded the crowd, looking for the best way to approach this get-acquainted time. Even though scores of men surrounded her at work, Jamie had never learned to flirt. The guys at her IT security job were as nerdy as she was, most of them openly hostile because she couldn’t pee standing up.

None of the men here looked particularly tech savvy, thank god. Getting laid seemed to be their thing. To the right, four guys surrounded three women, all of them already sharing hugs and prolonged kisses as sensuous music poured from the sound system. On the left, three men laughed loudly with a girl built better than a Playboy centerfold. In the corner, two young women kept their distance from the others, seeming to prefer their own company.

Jamie would have headed for the young women but didn’t want any of the guys to think she was a lesbian. Nor could she dig out her smartphone and pretend to be speaking or texting someone so no one noticed her floundering alone.

Hell, the men didn’t notice her at all. If their disinterest continued, she would have wasted a helluva lot of money without experiencing her personal fantasy—eating to her heart’s content before and after a guy screwed her blind, giving her countless orgasms, and a sense of being pretty, desired, cherished even.

Okay, so hoping for a love match at this place was totally out of the question. Even so, she shouldn’t have too much trouble scoring some attention here…eventually. The ratio of males to females was at least three to one. Another reason she’d come to Wicked Desires rather than the other resorts. This place was a freaking godsend for a woman who hadn’t had sex in six months.

Tired of waiting for some action, she plowed ahead, approaching a group of five guys and three women. With two spare men, she shouldn’t fare too badly.

At her approach, the women gave her brief smiles. The guys glanced her way then focused again on the two brunettes and blonde who had probably never known a lonely moment in their lucky lives.

Jamie’s first reaction was to keep moving, possibly to her room where she could watch porn and pig out.

Pride and longing for the fun everyone else seemed to enjoy kept her from bailing.
She waited for a lull in the conversation then spoke quickly before someone else did. “Hey, I’m Jamie Parker.” She stuck out her hand. “Just arrived. Isn’t this place something?”

The guys glanced at the ladies’ boobs barely covered by their tops, nipples pebbled against the stretchy fabric. The women’s attention settled on the Speedos and other brief swimwear the men sported.

Jamie figured it’d be useless to point out the amazing d├ęcor in the lounge, what she’d actually been referring to. The columns in here doubled as fish tanks with colorful tropical critters swimming within the abbreviated spaces. More tanks made up the floor, allowing guests to literally walk on water as the fish beneath their feet darted past brightly colored coral in lavender, hot pink, yellow, and blue or swam into lime-green hairgrass and other aquatic plants. The rest of the room was equally impressive—walls, sofas, and chairs in pure white, ornamentation in sparkling gold—perfect for the well-heeled.

She’d never felt more like a working stiff who didn’t belong here.

Each member of this group—Amber, Heather, Trish, Paul, Rob, Mike, Seth, and Greg—shook her hand and smiled politely. None of the guys asked her anything, as they would have if they’d been interested. They got back into the groove she’d interrupted, discussing their plans for the rest of today that included the other women not her.

A wave of embarrassment rushed over Jamie. The last time she’d felt this uncomfortable was in high school when her BFF transferred to another district, leaving Jamie alone without a clique for protection. For weeks, she’d tried to join others at their lunch tables only to have them ignore her.

No difference now.

She drifted away from the group, not wanting to intrude. On the prowl again for a friendly face, or someone who’d at least include her in a conversation, she spotted two guys at the bar. Both of them leaned against the polished white stone, their attention on her—all of her, from north to south—not the Barbie doll babes to either side of them.
Heat rose to her cheeks at the guys’ unexpected attention. Her first thought was that she’d done something dumb they’d noticed, like spilling her cocktail on her top with the drink dribbling over her sarong. Thankfully, that scenario wasn’t possible. Her body was too feverish,  perspiration—not icy rum and juice—trickling between her breasts.

Jamie figured she should smile at the guys, join them, or do something other than stare but couldn’t.

They were beyond hot. Unlike the other men here, they wore board shorts in black and navy blue as if they didn’t have to flaunt their assets, which were considerable. Even beneath the loose-fitting garments, she spotted their impressive bulges, her gaze lingering there before roaming over them again. She figured they were in their early to mid-thirties, definitely not Bieber clones, but honest-to-god men, both tall, possibly six-three, with bods to die for. Broad shoulders, firm pecs, tiny nipples—the color of milk chocolate on one, dark chocolate on the other. Their abs were so defined a woman from the eighteen hundreds could have used those muscles as a washboard for her family’s clothes.

Jamie’s head swam with images of running her hands over every part of them, starting at the top.

The guy in the navy shorts had shoulder-length black hair, wavy and finger-combed. Several strands fell over his forehead and grazed the stubble on his cheeks. It was barely past three in the afternoon, and already he had five o’clock shadow.

A pulse ticked deep within her pussy.

His skin was a rich olive color, features masculine as hell, eyes surprisingly light. From where she stood, his irises looked pale blue or gray and surrounded by long, dark lashes.

Jamie pressed her cocktail glass against her chest, hoping its iciness would cool her down. Dream on. Warmth continued to build, pouring through her as she studied his mouth, full and rich, definitely kissable. He looked like a pirate from an historical romance, given the stud in his left ear.

Tearing her gaze from the earring, his mouth, and naked chest, she finally studied the guy next to him. Light brown hair with a hint of curl hung over his forehead and fell below his ears. He hadn’t bothered running a comb through his locks either. They were tousled as hell, as though he’d just rolled out of bed and off a woman.

Her belly fluttered.

His features were rougher than the other guy’s, virile to the max, skin bronzed from days spent in the sun, eyes seemingly green, stubble on his cheeks, chin, and upper lip.
What a mouth he had, as inviting as his friend’s.

They had to be together because they’d just exchanged a brief glance and a few words then headed her way.

At least, she hoped they were coming in her direction. Surely, they couldn’t have been eyeing another woman behind her. She wanted to turn around and look but feared embarrassing herself. Now wasn’t the time for uncertainty—she needed to live life, take a chance, and stop behaving like the reserved woman she’d always been.
The guys stopped in front of her, close enough to touch but not overwhelm.

Too late for that. Every nerve ending in her body was firing, making her dizzy. She locked her knees and hoped to god her rubbery legs wouldn’t give out.

“Hey,” the pirate-looking one said, his voice lusciously deep. Giving her a warm smile, he offered his hand. “Creed Sanders.”

Wow, even his first name was impressive, sounding like a rock star’s or possibly one of the entertainers here. He was certainly good-looking enough for the job. And yet, his full name also seemed vaguely familiar. Jamie was certain she’d heard or seen it somewhere but couldn’t recall the exact details. His beautiful face and big body captivated her to the point where she could barely think.

His cedar and musk scent had her practically drooling. If it wouldn’t have been rude or weird, she might have leaned closer and taken several whiffs of him.

“Hey.” She offered a smile and slipped her hand into his, her scalp tingling at his dry, hot palm and firm caress. He didn’t shake her hand with limp indifference, nor did he crush her fingers in a show of masculinity like the other guys had.

His hand actually embraced hers while he stared at her mouth and eyes as if he couldn’t help himself.

She wasn’t about to stop him, pleasure and desire coursing through her with the force of a tsunami. Without thinking, she ran her thumb over his. He didn’t seem to mind.
From the side, his friend shifted his weight. A wave of his fresh lime scent washed over her.

Liking the fragrance, she grinned at him. He smiled right back, friendly and inviting, with what looked to be a spark of interest in her as a woman.

Where had these guys come from? For one panicked moment, she feared they were the resort’s welcome wagon, here to help unwanted women feel less lonely so the place wouldn’t risk a lousy online review.

“Tav Kearney,” the tousled-haired one said. He offered his hand, as large as Creed’s, fingers equally long and blunt at the tips.

Those babies could provide serious delight to a woman’s breasts, nipples, pussy.

Creed finally released her hand. Pretending she was in full control of her lust, Jamie turned to Tav and slipped her fingers across his palm. God. The heat and texture of his skin was just as wonderful as Creed’s, his handshake also meant to caress not bruise.

Her smile widened.

Both men looked at her expectantly.

Why? Had she said something weird or stupid without realizing it? Please, not that. This was a dream she didn’t want turning into a nightmare. At least, not so quickly. 


This time Creed’s smile was mischievous, maybe even a little tender. “What’s your name?”

“You didn’t tell us,” Tav said.

Right. “Jamie Parker. Nice to meet you. This place is something, isn’t it?”

“Hey there!” a redhead suddenly said, wiggling her fingers in greeting. “I’m Francine. This is Karen.” She gestured to the brunette next to her then spoke to Tav and Creed. “We need two more for our nude volleyball game. You guys wanna join us?”

Jamie’s spirits nosedived as Tav released her hand. She waited for him and Creed to take off, leaving her to start the mingling process again. Stupid, she knew. They weren’t hers to keep. Both men could go wherever the hell they wanted. She could even join them and cheer while they were play—

“Thanks, but no,” Creed said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m busy.”

Tav nodded. “Same here.”

“No prob.” Francine grinned. “We’ll catch you guys later.”

Jamie wasn’t sure what to make of them turning the babes down. What were Creed and Tav busy with? Her? Why? She didn’t like being so uncertain of herself, but hell, having lived with nothing but rejection from the opposite sex didn’t make one bubble over with confidence. “Do you guys work here?”

They seemed surprised by her question. Tav spoke first. “No. What made you think we did?”

Unwilling to point out the obvious—that they’d focused on her to the exclusion of the other women—she shrugged. “You didn’t want to join the game. Might be fun rather than standing around here.”

“You don’t seem to mind,” Creed said.

Already he read her too well. “I’m not into sports.”

“How about this place?” Tav asked, regarding her. “Having a good time?”

She might if she hit it off with them. So far, things looked pretty promising. “I just got here an hour ago. You guys?”

“We arrived yesterday,” Creed said.

“To look around,” Tav added.

And they were still in the get-acquainted section rather than frolicking like Adam with countless Eves? Didn’t make sense, nor did the fact that they’d come here together. Were they buddies? Cousins? Lovers?

Uh-uh. Given how they’d stared at her earlier—boobs and all—they didn’t appear gay.
However, the cryptic way they’d answered her reminded Jamie of the guys she worked with. She always had to frame her questions carefully to get more than a two-word response from them.

“Look around for what?” she finally asked. “The facilities? Didn’t you plan your itineraries before arriving? The details are all online, or you could have video conferenced or Skyped with the Wizard of Wishes.”

Creed scratched his cheek, clearly fighting a smile. “God, that name sounds so dumb.”
She laughed. “Incredibly so. What packages did you sign up for?” She was betting on sex and all the kinky stuff the resort encouraged.

“We didn’t,” Tav said. “We’re here to work.”

Surprised, she took them in. Hell, she drank in every part of them, including the thick ridges between their legs. Had their cocks gotten a little bigger and harder since they’d been speaking with her? Jamie hoped so.

“Work at what?” she asked.

Tav spoke first. “A project.”

“It was missing an element,” Creed added. “We just couldn’t get it right.”
Tav smiled. “Until we saw you.”

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Naughty Novellas Book Trailer

NAUGHTY NOVELLAS, the Naughty Literati's largest boxed-set to date. Available for pre-order at a special introductory price of $0.99 during February.
Including BDSM, Contemporary, Fairytale, Fantasy, Historical, Paranormal, Shape-shifter & Threesome from bestselling authors.

Cheap and #FreeBooks from Suz deMello

It's no mystery that writers, especially indie writers, are constantly creating new ways to find readers and convert them into fans of their books. One favorite way is to discount books for a short period of time, or maybe even offer a story or two or three for free.

This tactic works especially well with books or stories that are the first in a series. 

Viking in Tartan is the first in my six story Highland Vampires series. Three are short stories and three are full-length novels. Best if they're read in order, but each is a fine standalone.

Here's what the series is about:

Rumors have followed the chieftains of Clan Kilburn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

The gossip is frightening, but the reality is even darker.

From the elegant mansions of Mayfair to the mist-shrouded Highlands, the Kilburn vampires hunt, swive and kill. None are immune to their dangerous allure.

Who are the women who would dare to love them?

About Viking in Tartan:

Medieval romance from the Highland Vampires series.

Scotland, Yule Eve, 1260. A Viking raider with mysterious powers brings change to little Clan Kilbirnie, especially to the chieftain’s daughter Rhona.

Find it here: 

I also offer two more short stories as freebies. 

Here they are:

Agent Kathie Belmont has long lusted after her boss, Ross Guerrero, but has never even flirted with him. Could he be the strong but tender Master she craves?

Ross wants Kathie in his life—on her knees. But the constraints of their jobs with an ultra-secret US security agency have come between them. Will their undercover roles as a sex slave and her Master bring them together...forever?

Get it here for free: 

This next story is a complete departure. It's the first story I wrote and my first (and only, alas) #1 bestseller on Amazon. When it came out, it was #1 in free parody and satire  :)

Here's what it's about:

Suz deMello flips the traditional Regency romance upside down and sideways in this gentle satire in which Marlene, the Earl of Maybegood, roughly woos gentleboy Georgie Longjohn on the eve of his first Season.

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Hope you enjoy these stories and that you become a fan of my work!

Friday, February 17, 2017

Excerpt from KAHN'S HAVEN by Nicole Austin

Part of the NAUGHTY NOVELLAS boxed-set, available for pre-order at a special introductory price of $0.99 during February

Anita Bennett’s fight to solve the mystery of eight lost days leads to a hunt for the jaguar-man who haunts her fractured memories. Her plan is simple—find and seduce him. What she didn’t anticipate is his resistance.
*This title, previously published as Rakahnja’s Haven, has been revised and reedited.*


Genre/theme: Shapeshifter

Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2017


Okay, get back on track. She was alone in an unknown location, had a twisted ankle, short-term memory loss, dehydration and no clean water supply. In most cases she’d advise the person to stay put and wait for rescuers. With no way to make contact she was well and truly screwed. And not in a fun, orgasm on the horizon kind of way.

She had one option—get moving and save herself. So she started walking.

“I’m going to die…alone…in the mountains.”

That was the harsh truth of her situation. Ready for it or not, short of a miracle, she did not have much time remaining.

Time. The word no longer held any true meaning as she wandered aimlessly through the wilderness looking for anything recognizable. How long had she been walking? Turning in a circle she didn’t see the incline anymore.

Feeling like she was being watched, Anita rubbed the back of her neck and tried to shake off the sensation. Nobody was watching her. She was alone.

Her mental processes were sluggish and fogged, leaving her in an endless haze with little reality remaining. She couldn’t explain it but she felt eyes on her. The idea of losing her mind had her chest tightening with fear and her heart pounding. She didn’t have any family left. No close friends. There was nobody to take care of her if she no longer could be on her own.

“Keep it together, girl. You’ve gotten through tough spots before.” The weak sound of her raspy voice didn’t provide the reassurance she’d been going for.

In a moment of clarity, Anita realized her situation had become desperate. Although she had one remaining protein bar in the small pack slung over her shoulder, she wouldn’t eat it before finding another source of nutrients. That last bit of food was her final lifeline, one she wasn’t prepared to give up. All things considered, her survival instincts had kicked in and she would do whatever it took to live another day.

“Keep moving, girl. One foot in front of the other.”

A twig snapped nearby and her gaze shot in that direction, scanning for the presence she still felt. If someone was there wouldn’t they come over and offer assistance?

Anita sucked in a sharp breath. There, behind some foliage. Twin sparks of shimmery amber. Were those…eyes?

Holding perfectly still, she barely breathed while she stared hard at the spot she’d thought there’d been…something. Someone? An animal?

Please don’t let it be a mountain lion. Not a wolf either. And definitely not a bear.

She’d be okay with a mule deer or bighorn sheep. Could handle a cute marmot or snowshoe hare. Just not a predator. No predators allowed.

When nothing moved, made a sound or showed itself, she chalked the experience up to the effects of dehydration on her mind. She listened intently for several moments, hoping to hear water moving in a creek or stream. No such luck.

Her ankle ached with each step but she kept going. Looking at the sky, she realized hours had passed. Soon she’d have to find shelter.

A flash of black in her peripheral vision had her spinning to the right just as something big rustled a bush. Anita waited. After several moments a broad black snout poked through the vegetation and sniffed the air.

Fuck, oh fuck, I’m so fucked.

Her feet rooted to the spot regardless of her head screaming commands to move, run, climb, hide…

More rustlings erupted as the snout lifted above the leafy plants. Short and stout, not a bear, thank goodness. An amber gaze flashed and the head appeared.

Stunned, she could only stare. Her mind couldn’t process the information coming from her eyes because what she saw was impossible. Not in the Rocky Mountains. Yet there it was—a black, distinctly feline head.

A black jaguar?

In a moment of lucidity, Anita figured she had to be hallucinating. Black jaguars didn’t exist in Colorado. They could generally be found only in dense rainforests, savannahs and swamps on other continents, so there was no way she was seeing one here.

Closing her eyes she chanted, it’s all in your head, over and over again. Now open your eyes and there will be nothing there.

Blinking her eyes, Anita gasped. Not only was the black jaguar still there, it had partially emerged and the figment of her imagination was massive. Much larger than any feline she’d ever seen before. Bigger than a male lion. And deadly sharp white teeth were clearly visible in its parted mouth.

The cat moved closer, one cautious step at a time.

Drop down. Roll into a ball. Play dead. Orders screamed through her head but her body remained frozen. And what the hell was she muttering?

“N-nice, kitty. Good, kitty. Don’t eat the human.”

Yup, it was official. She’d lost her ever-loving mind.

The jaguar stopped moving, quickly turning its head to the side as if it heard something. It listened for several long moments before turning its attention back to her. The cat sat and watched her, tilting his head to the side.

“Good, kitty. Stay.” Okay, it wasn’t someone’s dog that would follow commands, dammit, but it was worth a try. Her life was on the line and if the big-ass cat followed directions she just might make it out of this in one piece, alive and breathing.

Taking a tentative step backward, she watched the cat like a hawk. Not even the tiniest ripple of movement so she took another.

“Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur.”

What the fuck, Anita? You’re singing to a jaguar?

“Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr.”

And what the fuck was she singing? She knew the song, could picture a tall, dark-haired geek in a red Flash T-shirt but didn’t know how she knew him.

Shaking her head she kept moving slowly until the jaguar stood up.

“Stay,” she demanded.

The cat smiled. It did. It fucking smiled at her. Was it…taunting her?

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Excerpt from The Woodsman by Belle Scarlett

Part of the NAUGHTY NOVELLAS boxed-set, available for pre-order at a special introductory price of $0.99 during February

Once upon a time in the Enchanted Forest where cursed beings are consigned until the spells that bind them are broken… What if the Big Bad Wolf was the good guy?
*This title, previously published as The Woodsman, has been revised and reedited.*


Fantasy, Paranormal - Fairytale

Copyright © Belle Scarlett, 2017

Here's a thrilling, chilling tasty bite of Belle Scarlett's spicy wolf-shifter fairytale, The Woodsman, inside Naughty Novellas: Seven Sensuous Romances, The Naughty Literati's largest boxed-set to date~
Once upon a moonlit October night in the Enchanted Forest, where cursed beings are consigned until the spells that bind them are broken…

Lady Lily Rouge’s musings were broken when her swaying carriage slowed and came to a dead halt in the road. Lily opened the door and leaned out.

“Driver! Why do we stop?”

No answer from the front of the carriage.

A chilling howl sounded, mere feet away in the darkness. Lily instinctively recognized it for what it was, a demand for surrender, ownership…possession. In answer, she felt a gush of fresh moisture cream the tops of her inner thighs. What was happening to her?

Then a man screamed.

Lily stared hard through the growing fog and watched in shock as her portly driver’s shape disappeared on foot through the marshy landscape dotted by eerie will- o’-wisps.

An enormous black creature chased him, running on all fours.

She tried wildly to recall the old, superstitious stories about this wood. Something about a huge wolf, dark as the night, who walked as a man in daylight. He was consigned by a mystical something or other to reside inside an Enchanted Forest because he committed some infraction until…until… Lily could recall no more.

She shifted uneasily. Well, she could not sit here forever. The beast could return at any moment and then she would be trapped inside for who knew how long. She would have to find a way out of this damnable wood herself!

Lily did not know how to drive a carriage with any skill, but she was an excellent horsewoman and knew she could make swift time on horseback. She would have to ride astride and bareback, she decided. Her heavy skirts and petticoats, beautiful as they were, would merely hamper her efforts. Her pantalettes would have to serve as riding breeches and her sleeveless, boned stays that overlaid her linen undershift would top off the outrageous outfit.

In a trice, she struggled out of her doublet, bodice, cumbersome skirts, bum roll and petticoats. She wrapped herself once more in the warm, red cloak and raised the deep hood over her handsomely dressed auburn curls.

Lily returned her attention to the carriage window and scanned the inhospitable night. Nothing moved outside. Now was her chance.

She took a deep breath and tried to open the carriage door. Fear made her stiff, chilled fingers clumsy as she fumbled with the handle. She needed something to stop her hands from shaking. She glanced around at the stacked pieces of baggage and plucked a flask of wine she spied poking through the opening of a lidded, woven basket Cook had packed for her journey.

Undoing the stopper, she tipped a healthy swallow down her throat. Dull warmth spread through her and burned her cheeks. All at once, she could not quite recall why she had been so frightened a moment ago. Tucking her liquid courage back into the food hamper that dangled from her elbow, Lily muttered an unladylike “Merde” and alighted from the carriage.

Her red cloak swirled around her ankles as she struggled forward and began to unharness Buttercup and Lucifer. Lucifer was the swifter mount and Lily could only hope poor Buttercup could evade the ravening wolf until she could return with a hunting party. A large one, she thought maliciously.
“Then I shall have the last laugh on that filthy brute. I will not be intimidated by a simple-minded wild beast!” she announced grandly to the night while her fingers worked the leather straps.

The sullen fog refused to answer.

For good measure, she added a deliciously forbidden, “Bollocks to wolves!”

The carriage suddenly swayed, as though jolted by a mild wind. Both horses beside her suddenly whinnied, straining their harnesses.

Lily felt a chill go through her that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Slowly turning her head, she looked up at the coachman’s seat. Staring down at her with mesmerizing eyes the color of a robin’s egg was the biggest, blackest wolf that Lily ever imagined could exist.
Lily and the huge wolf regarded one another for a timeless moment. The wolf quirked its head to one side and looked her up and down. It was almost as though it was taken aback by the sight of her, poised for flight, wearing only a bright cloak that parted down the front to reveal her snug bustier and lacy pantalettes that lovingly hugged the curve of her hip and legs. Its red tongue panted at the sight of her luscious frame.

Lily glared up at the wolf and edged back a step. Then two. Then three. Maybe she could make a run for it.

As though reading her thoughts, the wolf leapt from the coachman’s seat and stalked toward her, stopping only a couple of paces away. It had situated itself between her and the horses, and seemed to be waiting for her next move.

“Shoo!” She tried waving it away with one hand. “Scat! Begone! Go away! Bad dog!”

The wolf replied by sitting back on its haunches and parting its jaws in a feral grin. Had Lily not known such a thing to be beyond the realm of possibility, she would have sworn the animal was amused by her feeble attempts to drive it off and was in fact laughing at her!

She tried to edge carefully around the black beast toward Lucifer. A deep, warning growl rumbled from the wolf’s throat. Lily froze, poised for flight but not daring to move for a full minute. Then she began edging backward.

As she stepped off the narrow, rutted road, her slippers sank into the muck up to her ankles, but she never took her eyes off the impressive creature that impassively watched her retreat.

When she was a few yards away, she turned and fled, dashing as fast as she could across the uneven ground. She ran on and on, without hearing any sound except for the pounding of her own heart and the flap-flap of her red cloak that billowed behind her.

Suddenly, Lily found her way barred by a second, smaller wolf, this one white. A she-wolf who bristled with a malevolent aggression that was focused intently on Lily. Lily halted in her tracks, breathing hard from the sense she was somehow the sole center of the she-wolf’s hatred. But how could that be? She had done nothing to this animal to warrant such fury.

The white wolf advanced, snarling viciously. Lily cringed and waited for the attack she knew would come. The she-wolf sprang. Lily screamed.

A blur of black fur hurtled into the clearing and threw itself onto the white wolf, broadsiding her in mid-leap. The two beasts crashed as one to the ground. The she-wolf felt the sting of the black wolf’s teeth and bounded off through the dense trees with a yelp.

“This cannot be happening.” Lily was not aware she had gasped her thought aloud until the black wolf swung his great head in her direction. His intent gaze was once more upon her. He prowled toward Lily. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the first bite.