Excerpt from Fireworks At The Lake by Berengaria Brown

Part of the Naughty Escapes Boxed-set – Available July 1^st

Blurb: Andrew didn’t want to spend the Fourth of July long weekend with the people from the office so he goes to Lake Superior instead. There he sees Luke, a blond Viking who arouses every craving for love and lust inside him. But can he overcome his low self-esteem from when Rory rejected his love and open his heart to another man?

M/M

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Copyright © Berengaria Brown, 2015

Andrew had spent most of the afternoon trying not to stare at the blond Viking stretched out on a lawn chair with the ripples from the lake running up and over his toes. The blond had removed his T-shirt and placed his Stetson over his face, but not before Andrew had seen the intense blue of his eyes and the sharp ridge of his nose. Since then Andrew had spent his time appreciating the Viking’s muscled arms and shoulders, his ripped abs and the long, long line of his legs—right down to the toes currently buried under an inch of water. Long, narrow toes, a fitting ending to the long, lean legs that disappeared inside baggy, knee-length shorts.

Likely, his view of the Viking was going to be the most exciting part of his Fourth of July weekend this year. Still, life wasn’t too bad. In fact, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. A bunch of the people from the office had planned to spend the day at a cookout in a city park. Andrew didn’t mind working with them, but he wasn’t ready to spend his vacation days with them as well, which was why he’d decided to come here to the lake for the three-day Fourth of July weekend.

Originally he’d planned to stay on the shore until the nine o’clock “family” fireworks display, then head back into the small tourist town for a meal before the midnight lakeside fireworks. But now his plans were liable to change. If the Viking stayed here, he’d stay. If the Viking went off with friends, that would be the end of his happy thoughts of getting to know the man. The only problem was, he hadn’t quite worked out how to get to know the blond yet.

Part of Andrew wanted to just sit and wait. The Viking had been lying there for a couple of hours already, and unless he planned to get quite wet, he’d have to move his lawn chair soon, as the tide was coming in. Likely when he stood up, Andrew could catch his gaze and say hello. Or something. On the other hand, it seemed rude to keep staring—or pretending not to stare—and not speak. But then, perhaps it would be safer to do nothing at all and just wait and watch. So Andrew waited and watched and tried to make up his mind what to do. Part of the problem was that his relationship with Rory had damaged his self-confidence.

He’d loved Rory passionately, far more passionately than Rory had ever loved him. Andrew had wanted them to live together, to settle down, to be a real couple, but Rory had never agreed to that. Gradually Andrew had realized that they were drifting apart, no matter how hard he’d tried to keep them together. Finally he’d understood that although Rory had been the man for him, he couldn’t fulfill Rory. After that had come a time of intense pain and anguish. A time when he’d wondered if he’d ever be enough to make another man happy. But that was last year, and Andrew was ready to try again. But only with someone who at least thought he might be able to love Andrew back.

Andrew stared at the Viking. He knew nothing about this man except that the blond was delicious eye-candy. However, something strong and powerful drew him to the Viking. Could this be his chance at happiness? Or would it be just another Rory who couldn’t return his love?

 

Excerpt from The WyndMaster’s Escape by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Part of the Naughty Escapes Boxed-set – Available July 1^st

Blurb: A love as old as time can sometimes lead to a future one warrior never wanted.
Dark Fantasy, Speculative Fiction

Click here to pre-order on Amazon http://goo.gl/AxvZnH

Copyright © Charlotte Boyett-Compo, 2015

Walking up the gangplank of her own Taoiseach model Fiach, Marisol was glad she hadn’t informed King Gabriel that she knew Santos Cabrera and knew him all too well. Of course knowing Lord Savidos he probably already knew of her association with Santi and that was why Gen. Strom had assigned her to the case in the first place.

As she slapped her palm to the control panel to shut the gullwing door of her craft, the WyndMaster flitted across her mind’s eye.
“Never could keep it where it belongs, could you, Santi?” she grumbled. She went to the pilot’s seat to begin her pre-flight check.

The Breasalian warrior was one hot piece of prime male ass, she thought, flicking switches and typing in coordinates. He was bigger than most Breasalian men—well over six feet in height and at least two hundred and fifty pounds of delicious male weight. With his thick black curly hair, eyes the color of onyx, the swarthy complexion of his race, and a chiseled body honed to absolute perfection, he ventured into serious eye candy territory. It was no wonder women couldn’t keep their hands off his hairy chest and mighty fine backside. That he didn’t try to discourage them from doing so put him squarely in the category of recalcitrant male whore.

Idly she wondered if the Akhkharusian emperor had relieved her old friend of that delightful appendage that so many women across the Megaverse had found so enthralling. That was generally the proscribed punishment for screwing the daughter of an emperor. It was what Ryden Bakari would do had it been one of his daughters.

“That would be a truly terrible waste to womankind if they’ve whacked it off, Cabrera,” she said, engaging the mighty engine of the Fiach.

She’d enjoyed that big, thick, juicy appendage and wouldn’t mind indulging her senses again in that regard. The man was a walking, talking gorgeous stiff cock on two legs. His swagger and strut alone were enough to make a woman come just by observing them. He had a deft hand and a kickass bod made for fucking and fucking hard. It was an experience she wouldn’t mind enjoying again.

“Maybe on the way back if you’ve still got your dangly,” she said then laughed.

Easing out of the docking harness, she turned the nose of her sweet dark-green baby and headed for the iris as it began to cycle open. Gaining a bit of speed, she waited until she had clearance to leave the station and as soon as she had permission, she let the Fiach rip.

Once she was off the station and outside the gravitational pull of Aduaidh Prime, she made sure the settings were correct then breathed a sigh of relief. Since the expensive piece of machinery could all but fly itself, she settled back in the plush body-form chair and thought about one night of heavenly bliss in the Milky Way Galaxy locked in the brawny arms of Santos Cabrera.

*****

Terra: Chichén Itzá, 2005 A.D.

“You’re heavy,” she told him.

“You’re a lightweight,” he replied, rolling off her. “How’d you find me anyway?”

She hadn’t been looking for him but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Her embarrassing mistake when she’d blundered through the wormhole would give him an advantage over her she really didn’t want him to have. He didn’t need to know she’d literally stumbled upon him here in this backward world. Instead, she shrugged. “I’d never been to Terra and venturing into its distant past seemed like fun.”

“So you came after me in that distant past for…?” he questioned.

“You’re wanted on nine planets or have you conveniently forgotten that little detail, Cabrera?” she countered.

“I got a full pardon from the Burgon for any and all crimes committed prior to my becoming a WyndMaster or have you conveniently forgotten that little detail, Diaz?” he tossed back at her.
“You did?” she said. “If that’s so why isn’t it showing up on my data scan when I plugged in the tail number of your runabout?”

“You weren’t looking deep enough into the data?” he countered as he ran his hand over her right breast, thumbed the nipple then leaned forward to draw the hard little nub between his teeth.

“Why here?” she asked, looking beyond his shoulder to the flat-topped pyramid structure in front of which they lay under a canopy of trees. “Why did you come here?”

“Chichén Itzá has an interesting correlation to my Breasalian culture,” he answered around his hold on her nipple. “Probably to your Meicsiceon culture as well. We may have ancient ancestors in common with the Mayans who lived here. I suspect this land was settled by the Enchanters.”

She pushed his mouth from her breast. “The Enchanters?” Those words were enough to put an instant damper on any sex drive she’d been feeling.

He sighed and sat up—completely at ease with his nudity—and drew his knees into the perimeter of his dark arms.

“I’ve been looking at the hieroglyphs, doing some investigating. My guess is the Enchanters landed here, settled for a bit, made a few hundred brats as they were known to do then left.”

“Leaving the beginnings of still another mysterious culture behind,” she said.

“That’s what I think,” he told her.

“So where did they go?” she asked. “The ones left behind. This place seems deserted.”
“It is now what the quaint little Terrans call a vacation spot,” he said. “Sightseers come by on a daily basis to look at the ruins.”

“A tourist trap?” she asked, aghast at the notion. She was sprawled on the ground without a stitch of clothing—in broad daylight, no less—with a naked man sporting a second growing boner. She shot to her feet and dove for her clothes. “You son of a Diabolusian warthog bitch!”

He had the audacity to laugh at her. “Hey, it’s closed today. What’s your problem, Diaz? It’s not like you haven’t been seen naked by a hundred or more warriors.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Those columns there? They are part of the Temple of a Thousand Warriors. The more the merrier to see your cute little bare butt. I bet you’ve got them warriors rubbing out…”

“Fuck. You. Asshole,” she said, dragging on her uniform.

“Any time you want me, baby,” he replied, wagging his eyebrows.
She sat down to draw on her boots and ignored the way he was staring at her. Those wicked, hot eyes of his were devouring her and she could feel the sweep of his tongue along her folds beneath the crotch of her pants.

“Stop!” she ordered. “I know what you are doing with that evil mind of yours!”

He shrugged. “It’s my Enchanter heritage, Diaz. I can’t help it.”

“You can gods-be-damned well try, Cabrera,” she warned.

That beguiling smile that had dropped the knickers of many a defenseless female eased across his saturnine face and those black eyes with lashes so long they should be against the law slid slowly
down her body.

“Stay with me,” he said. “Just three nights. There is something very special that happens here in this place in the late afternoon during the spring equinox. That is two days from now.”

“What is it that happens?”

“You will have to wait and see,” he teased.

Excerpt from Sex Me Up by Nicole Austin

Part of the Naughty Escapes Boxed-set - Available July 1st

Blurb: One night at a Paris sex club—no-strings, complications or inhibitions—just lots of fantasy sex. But in the morning I forgot the most important rule. Never run from a feline predator—they live for the chase.
Shape-shifter

Click here to pre-order on Amazon http://goo.gl/AxvZnH

Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2015

Tessa goes first, having a private discussion with Sheila and I step away to wait my turn feeling rather shell-shocked. I step up to the bar, lean heavily into the padded edge and exhale a hard breath, blowing a wisp of hair away from my eyes. A snifter of dark amber liquid appears in front of me and I look up into the dark, knowing eyes of an ursine male.

“A Primal Delights virgin.” He nudges the glass toward my hand. “Drink this. It will help.”

I chuckle and pick up the glass with a nod of thanks. “That obvious?”

“I’ve worked here long enough to recognize the wide-eyed look of a first-timer.”

Gently swirling the glass and allowing my palm to warm the liquid, I take a deep breath, enjoying the rich scent of the cognac, feeling better before even tasting the first sip. The liquor goes down smooth, spreading fingers of relaxing warmth through me.

“I didn’t realize how involved it would be.” I gaze at his shirt, looking for a name tag.

“Conall,” he says in a thick Irish brogue and extends his hand. The butterflies are fluttering about again. I’m such a sucker for accents.

My small hand is engulfed in the warmth of his larger one and my voice comes out on a breathy rasp. “Lindy.”

“American,” he states. Leaning over the bar, Conall turns my hand in his grasp and places a warm kiss against my wrist. “How long will you be gracing our fine city?”

“Irish devil,” I remark in a bland tone, enjoying the view as his lips spread into a broad smile.

“Devilish enough to earn the pleasure of yer company in a private room?” He pours it on thick and arches his brow in inquiry.

Oh, I like Conall. He’s a welcome reprieve.

“Hmm…,” I murmur and take another sip of cognac while drinking him in. Wavy brown hair, sparkling bronze eyes, dark stubble shadowing a strong jaw, tall and leanly muscled. Handsome and charming but not flipping my lust switch, dammit. Still, I don’t want to turn him down flat. “A possibility…after I explore for a bit.”

He sighs and nods to my now empty snifter. “Favor another?”

“Yes, please.”

Conall refills the glass then glances over my shoulder. “Looks like ‘tis yer turn with the matchmaker.”

I turn to find Sheila headed my way and mutter, “Oh boy.”

As we walk over to her booth, my gaze skates around the ballroom but I don’t see Tessa anywhere. A small tendril of alarm tightens my chest. What if I don’t find her again?

Sensing my unease, Sheila stops at a door with a plaque reading Lounge. “At the end of the evening, you can reconnect with your companion in here.”

“Thank you.” Expelling a relieved breath, I start to relax, thanks to the cognac spreading through my body.

“I was approached by a male who expressed interest in you.”

And there went any sense of relaxation. Sheila’s statement takes me by surprise and has the butterflies acting up again.

“Really? Who?” I lift the glass to my lips and take a surreptitious glance around but see no one nearby.

Picking up a tablet from the counter, she taps the screen and a devastatingly gorgeous male’s face appears. He has warm, honey-blond hair with streaks of color from platinum to chestnut. Vibrant green eyes, crinkled slightly at the corners, pierce right through me. He has a broad Roman nose with a sloping tip above sensual, soft looking lips and a chiseled, square jaw with the perfect amount of dark stubble to keep him from being too beautiful.

“Hello, Lindy.” His voice strokes my name, wrapping around me, warm and enticing. It’s a deep, whiskey-rough tone that I’d love to hear whisper naughty things in my ear.

Clutching the tablet, I pause the video and wander away from the booth to sit on the edge of a plush couch. Sliding my finger over the screen, I restart the video from the beginning.

“Hello, Lindy.” A breathy sigh passes my lips. God, the way his voice caresses my name.

“My name is Sebastian.”

“Sebastian.” I breathe his name, liking the way it rolls over my tongue.

“You walked into the club tonight and took my breath away. I would love to meet you, perhaps share a drink and some conversation. See where it may lead.” His lips move sinuously, forming innocuous words. Remarkably, I feel my body heating, my breasts swelling, growing heavy. It has to be those fathomless, intense eyes. They stir something inside me, inexplicably drawing me in.

“If that interests you, Sheila will escort you to the private booth where I am waiting.” His eyes stare into me as if he sees right into my soul. “Don’t keep me waiting.” The last comes out firm, a command.

Normally dominant males make my hackles rise, but the seduction of his husky voice has me eager to comply. Still, I take my time to consider his offer. Swiping my finger over the screen, I watch the short video again, squirming on my seat. There’s really no decision to be made. He’s the one. The male I traveled all this way for. I know it.

Tuesday Morning is the Best Time to Arrive in Havana by Suz deMello (#99cents #boxedset #romance)

 

The view along Jose Marti Boulevard's
pedestrian promenade Great place to walk.

I travel as much as I can, not just for inspiration but for engagement. When I'm unhappy, the best way for me to get away from the source of my distress is to leave (duh). Additionally, when I travel, especially to someplace new, I'm deeply engaged in my life and have no mental space for worrying about whatever it was that was bothering me. When I don't know the language, don't know where I'm staying, don't know where I'll eat my next meal, I have a lot more to focus on rather than dwelling on my last unhappy love affair.

And so it was with my latest trip out of the USA. After the president announced plans to open the USA's relationship with Cuba, I decided to travel there ASAP so I could research a story and see Havana before its skyline would be dominated by the Starbucks mermaid and the Golden Arches.

But I really screwed this one up.

At this time, Cuba has no banking relationship with the USA. That means that

I had a lovely time in Cancun,
where my credit card worked just fine.

you have to have money in hand before you leave for Cuba, because your ATM card and credit card won't work there. So I planned to go to Cancun, withdraw a bunch of pesos, fly to Cuba and change them for the local currency. 

Unfortunately, I neglected to tell my bank, so when I started to withdraw money, I got maybe $400 and then...nada. Zip. Zero.

I emailed my bank to no avail.

I tried to phone, but neither my hotel phone nor my cellie would get through (Damn you, Virgin!)

So I landed in Cuba with maybe a quarter of the funds I needed to have a really good time, or even to eat three meals daily.

I told myself that this was a good time to lose weight.

There are hordes of tourists in Havana,
but they're not Americans.

I shared a taxi from the airport into Havana with a couple of Ukrainian dudes and immediately paid the host of my casa particular for the stay. Alex was extremely kind, allowing me the use of his computer so I wouldn't have to pay a hotel at their business center for internet access--I was trying desperately to make sure I'd have enough money for the next phase of my journey, which was Isla Mujeres.

Despite my straitened circumstances, I had a good

time researching my next story, One Hot Havana Night. I couldn't afford taxis, so I walked all over Havana Vieja, the tourist quarter, where I set my story. A friendly expat showed me a lunchroom where I could eat a huge meal for $1-2--so that's where I ate. It was pretty good food--a protein (eggs, chicken or meat) with a little salad, plus rice and beans--typically Cuban meals. I even had enough left over so I could go to a bar and get a drink while listening to the local music every night.

Victor Hugo's home, the inspiration
 for my story's setting

Havana was great, but it's nevertheless a tourist trap. It's just that the tourists aren't Americans. Lots of Europeans, especially Italians, and a number of Japanese.

I learned a lot. Most people seemed pretty contented. As for the economic system, while I heard someone complain that they work really hard for little money, I saw only one or two people who seemed to be badly off. Everyone else looked happy and well-fed, though not obese. I saw many of the famous classic American cars, but I saw a lot of new cars as well--Peugeots and Kias, Hyundais and even Benzes. I just didn't see newer American cars. That's because Cuba isn't isloated at all. It's just that we don't have an economic relationship with them. Other countries have been trading with Cuba quite happily.

Still, I can't say that the place is well run. 

The Castros seem to be good at getting and keeping power, not so hot at using it. Many of the old, beautiful buildings are crumbling, though I must say that they're making an effort to resurrect them. Many streets are dug up as improvements are being made. And this brings me to the title of this post.

So why is Tuesday morning the best time to arrive in Havana?

Because the trash is picked up Monday night, at least in the part of Havana where I stayed. Until then, it's thrown into giant Dumpsters by the locals. As you can imagine, the garbage gets pretty ripe in the tropical heat. 

But Havana smells great on a Tuesday morning.

One Hot Havana Night will be available on July 1 in the Naughty Escapes anthology. Here's what it's about:

Havana, 1958... On the eve of the revolution, journalist Ellie Wheeler dreams of the biggest story of her life. Two hot men make all her dreams come true—even ones she didn’t know she had. (And yes! There's an M/F/M menage!)

Preorder your copy here: http://tinyurl.com/NaughtyEscapes 

Cover Reveal - Naughty Escapes

Naughty Escapes

Eleven Naughty Vacation Getaways

including BBW, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark Fantasy, M/M, Ménage, Paranormal & Shape-shifter, from Amazon bestselling authors!

Take a naughty trip around the world with us to a penthouse playroom in San Francisco, the shore of Lake Superior, a deserted island in The Bermuda Triangle, a Mob-controlled nightclub in pre-revolutionary Havana, along the River Cam near Cambridge University in England, a sex club in Paris, a nude beach in Barcelona, the ancient Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza, Lake Como Italy, Germany, and a swanky condo in Zurich.

Click here to pre-order on Amazon http://goo.gl/AxvZnH

Sex Me Up ~ Nicole Austin
One night at a Paris sex club—no-strings, complications or inhibitions—just lots of fantasy sex. But in the morning I forgot the most important rule. Never run from a feline predator—they live for the chase.


The WyndMaster’s Escape ~ Charlotte Boyett-Compo
A love as old as time can sometimes lead to a future one warrior never wanted.

Fireworks at the Lake ~ Berengaria Brown
Andrew didn’t want to spend the Fourth of July long weekend with the people from the office so he goes to Lake Superior instead. There he sees Luke, a blond Viking who arouses every craving for love and lust inside him. But can he overcome his low self-esteem from when Rory rejected his love and open his heart to another man?

Punting on the River Cam ~ Lainey-Jo Charles
Having escaped being roped into wedding party activities, two American strangers turn a day of sightseeing in Cambridge, England into a series of passionate encounters.

One Hot Havana Night ~ Suz deMello
Havana, 1958… On the eve of the revolution, journalist Ellie Wheeler dreams of the biggest story of her life. Two hot men make all her dreams come true—even ones she didn’t know she had.

Shake it Up! ~ Francesca Hawley
After a mild quake in San Francisco, Allyson Rayburn gets stuck in the same elevator as Ross Morgan, the Dom who’d been at the other end of a flogger at a private club the night before. Her day just got interesting.

Window Display ~ Regina Kammer
The apartment in Zurich was supposed to be the perfect disruption-free place to finish my dissertation. Trouble is, my room came with a very distracting view.

The Lake by Moonlight ~ Katherine Kingston
Julie Forrester returns to Lake Como in Italy to evaluate some paintings for a former professor–and to re-evaluate her relationship with the man.

Moon Dance ~ Terry Rissen

The Bermuda Love Triangle ~ Belle Scarlett
Castaway on a deserted island in the Bermuda Triangle, Trista finds herself torn between two sexy shifters who desire her, but refuse to share her.

Get Away ~ Alexa Silver
A-list actor Bryson runs into a gorgeous—and very naked—man on a Barcelona beach. Kell looks familiar but Bry can’t quite place him. After a sexually-charged meeting, they go their separate ways, or so Bry thinks. Fate comes knocking with an invitation to a party, and a date with destiny.