Weekend Excerpt–LOST & BOUND

Lost & Bound promo new1

My Dream Dominant Collection is a series of stand-alone contemporary erotic romance novels featuring hot Alpha males, strong red-haired women, and light BDSM themes.  LOST & BOUND is the second book in the collection.

In LOST & BOUND, following a brush with the law, actress Shasta Pyke is sent to cool her heels for a few weeks in the wilderness of northern Ontario.  It’s there that she meets ruggedly handsome Blake Walker, an experienced bush pilot who helps run his family’s remote guest lodge on Lake Miranda.

Initially, Blake’s not too impressed with the lodge’s sole VIP guest.  But as he spends time with her, he begins to see the frightened little girl she hides from the world.  Could it be that Shasta Pyke is the baby girl this Daddy Dom has been looking for?

Here’s an excerpt from LOST & BOUND.

Blake had heard the car pull up.  He dawdled, swiping at imaginary smudges on the passenger door of the de Havilland Beaver that rested at the end of the dock.  He had no desire to get caught up in whatever celebrity fanfare accompanied their new guest’s arrival.

The voices faded after everyone went inside and still Blake waited a few minutes longer before making his way back up the dock toward the front of the lodge.  He was surprised to see a young woman standing alone in the clearing in the center of the cabins.  Her back was to him and he took a moment to watch her.

His first impression was that she was sexy as hell.  Her shoulder-length hair was bright red, and expensive-looking sunglasses sat perched on top of her head.  She was wearing a white halter blouse with a very short black skirt.  Her high-heeled shoes were bright pink suede and they wobbled precariously as she marched around holding her mobile phone in front of her like a divining rod.

When he told her about the lack of signal, she whipped around, giving him a glare that would freeze lava.  Fine, lady, have it your way, he thought.

Thankfully, Jackie came out with a smarmy-looking older guy in an expensive Italian suit.  Blake busied himself retrieving a mountain of bags from the trunk of the black Lincoln.  He noticed that the guest of honor grabbed the suit’s arm and pulled him off to the side for a little chat.  He wondered if her tone was any friendlier with him, and he figured that it wasn’t.

He’d just finished loading all the bags into the front of the red aluminum skiff when Pink Shoes came tapping down the dock.  His gaze started at the shoes and slid up shapely legs to the tight skirt and curved hips.  The deep V in the halter top hinted at stellar tits and her lips were a deep red.  She wore too much makeup in his estimation, but there was no denying that Shasta Pyke was hot.

“Are you ready to head over to the island?”

He watched her grip her huge black leather shoulder bag, hiking it higher up on her bare shoulder.  “Um, yes, please.”

Blake wasn’t sure, but she seemed embarrassed by her earlier behavior.  He offered her his hand and she took it, gingerly stepping into the boat.  She sat on the center bench, facing forward, away from him, and clutching her bag like it was a life preserver.

***

               They didn’t speak during the ten-minute ride across the water to the small island in the middle of Lake Miranda.  It would have been difficult over the roar of the small outboard motor, even had she been facing him.

Blake expertly angled the small boat to rest beside the tiny dock and killed the motor, tying off his end before jumping out and tying the front end as well.  Then he again offered his hand, helping Shasta climb out of the boat and onto the dock.

She stood taking in the view as he unloaded her things.  The lodge was visible across the water, seemingly closer than it actually was, judging by the ten-minute ride.  If she hadn’t been in such a foul mood, she would have found the place beautiful.  The only sound she could hear was the wind in the tops of the countless pine trees covering the island.  It would be a short climb up to the crest of the island where a log cabin sat.  She could see a stone-surrounded fire pit flanked by a quartet of dark green wooden Adirondack chairs and further away, stretched between two large pines, was a white canvas hammock.

When all her things were on the dock, Blake turned to her.  “Let me take you to the cabin.  There are a few things I need to show you.”

He took off up the hill and Shasta teetered along behind him, carefully avoiding large rocks that were in the way.  “Are you making it?” he called over his shoulder.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry about me,” she muttered.

Blake turned away and grinned to himself.  He was waiting for her when she finally made it up the hill.  “I hope you brought other shoes.”

Out of breath, Shasta put her hands on her hips and nodded.

He unlocked the door and held it open for her to enter the cabin.  She stepped into an open room featuring a seating area in front of a fireplace immediately to her right.  Further into the room, a kitchen was arranged in the back left quarter of the space with a cast iron stove on the back wall and a kitchen table pushed against the right wall down from the fireplace.  Between the fireplace and the kitchen table was a small desk that held some sort of radio equipment.  Shasta peered into an alcove to her left and saw that it was a tiny bedroom.

“Now,” Blake was saying, “the lights run on propane.  You turn this little lever and you can light them with a lighter.  The fridge and the cooktop also run on propane.  Same thing, you turn the knob and then light it with the lighter.  I already lit the pilot on the fridge and it should be fine.”  He indicated a small metal box beneath the kitchen counter.

Wordlessly, Shasta followed him around the room, trying to take in all his instructions.  “Now if you want to bake, or if you’re just cold, you can build a fire in the stove.”  He showed her where to put the wood.  “And there’s always the fireplace.  Wood is stacked outside against the back of the cabin.  I can always bring you more, too.”

He waved at the few kitchen cabinets.  “We’ve stocked the cabinets and the refrigerator but if you need anything, just let me know.”  He headed for the door.  “Water comes from a spring near the front of the island.”

“Wait.  What?”

“Water.  You know, to drink?”

Desperately, Shasta searched the room, making a beeline to the sink.  Instead of a faucet, there was a green-painted old-fashioned hand pump.  She worked the handle a few times and a spurt of water came out.  She looked back to him, bewildered.

“Well, you can’t drink that.  Not without boiling it for about ten minutes.  It comes straight out of the lake.  Use it for dishes and things.  You can drink the spring water right out of the ground.”

“Wait a second.  Where’s the bathroom?”

“I was just going to show you.  Follow me.”

Blake headed out the door and Shasta followed along behind him.  He turned down the right side of the cabin, following a narrow trail through the trees.  Shortly, the path opened onto a small clearing and to the right of the clearing was a tiny log structure.  “Here’s your bathroom,” he pointed.

She began to shake her head.  “Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” she murmured.  “There must be some mistake.  I don’t do outhouses.  Does Eddie know about this?” she demanded.

“Who’s Eddie?” Blake returned, picturing the smarmy suit guy.

“No.  Absolutely not.  This is completely unacceptable.  Besides,” she breathed deeply, trying to regain her composure, “where is the shower?”

“Well, some guests bathe in the lake.”  He took in her incredulous expression and continued.  “On the other hand, we do have a solar shower.  I’ll show you.”

Shasta followed him down the other side of the cabin, to the place where the tiny bedroom jutting out from the main cabin made a little sheltered corner.  A post was situated in the corner with a pulley rigged to the top.

“This is a solar shower.”  Blake held up a large flat rectangular vinyl pouch that was clear on one side and black on the other.  The clear side had a large round valve and there was a handle on one end.  The other end had clear tubing attached and at the end of the tubing was a tiny shower head.

“You fill this up with water, seal the valve, and lay it out in the sun.  The dock is a good place.”  He watched as Shasta held her forehead with the palm of one hand, gaping at him in disbelief.  “Anyway, when you’re ready for a shower, you hang it up here,” he indicated the pulley, “and just shower away.  The spruce trees right here make for privacy, although you shouldn’t have any folks out on the lake, seeing as how you’ve rented out the whole place.”

Wordlessly, Shasta turned and hobbled back to the front of the cabin, sinking into one of the Adirondack chairs.  Blake followed, hands in his pockets, uncertain whether or not to continue the tour.  She glanced up at him, deciding to change tacks.

“Listen,” she smoothed, “we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”  She pasted on her dazzling Shasta Pyke smile.  “Obviously, there’s been some kind of mistake.”  Standing, she approached him, pushing her glasses back up onto her head and fixing him with soft brown eyes.

“Here’s the thing.”  She reached out to stroke his arm, biting her lower lip provocatively.  “I can’t stay here.  And you don’t want me here, not really.  The place is already paid for.  Just,” she stepped closer, brushing her breasts against his arm, “maybe you could drive me someplace where I can get a cab or an Uber or something, and I’ll be out of your hair.”  She wrinkled her nose and winked.  “What do you say?”

A slow smile spread across Blake’s face.  “What do I say?”  He laughed lightly, shaking head.  “I say, you’re a piece of work, lady.”  With that, he turned.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Wait!” she shouted after him.  “You can’t just leave me here!”

He waved over his head and didn’t turn around.

“Come back here!  You come back here right now!”

Wordlessly, he cast off from the dock and pushed the boat away from the shallow water.

“What about my bags?  They need to be taken to the cabin!”

“And it will be dark soon.  So you might want to get on that,” Blake chuckled.

Shasta was on the dock by now and she stomped her foot, fists balled at her sides.  “Do you know who I am?” she screamed.

“You look to me like a little brat who needs her ass tanned,” he fired back.

She shrieked unintelligibly and threw a rock at the boat.  She missed by a mile and the rock plonked harmlessly into the water.

Blake laughed again, started the engine, and headed back to the lodge.

LOST & BOUND is available at your favorite online bookseller:
books2read.com/LostandBound

I’m currently hard at work on WARRIOR MINE, Dream Dominant Book 4.  Although it’s a stand-alone novel, it’s a spin-off from LOST & BOUND.

I’m planning on a summer release.  Keep watching for the reveal of the gorgeous cover, designed by the ever-sexy and talented Linzi Basset.

Weekend Excerpt–RUNNING ROGUE

RUNNING ROGUE is Book Two of Rannigan’s Redemption, a ‘spicy vanilla’ three-novel erotic romance law drama.   Rannigan’s Redemption is the story of the complicated relationship between bad boy Manhattan attorney Michael Rannigan and Maggie Flynn, the smart redhead he hires to join his prestigious firm.

Michael is a rogue, an inveterate player with a stable of surgically-enhanced bottle-blondes at his beck and call.  Maggie’s smart and capable, maybe even a better lawyer than Michael, if he stops to think about it.  She’s too smart for his sexual tastes, definitely not his type.  So why can’t he get her out of his mind?

Maggie has been in love with him from the beginning.  She knows how he operates, and that the situation is all but hopeless.  But she sees the man he could be.  For now, she’s content to work with him.

If the first book, RESISTING RISK, sets up the story, RUNNING ROGUE is all about change.  Just when you think you know where the story’s going, it all blows up.  In this book, Michael and Maggie are going their separate ways, each making questionable decisions in their personal and professional lives.  Then one day, Michael receives news that shakes him to his core.

Here’s a snippet from RUNNING ROGUE.  **Warning–Spoilers abound.**

Michael?” Maggie asked into the intercom.

“Hey, Mags.”  His voice sounded tinny over the ancient device.  “I know it’s late.  I’m sorry.  But when I saw your light on, I mean…  Can I come up?”

Maggie hesitated, her finger hovering over the button.  “What do you want, Michael?”

“Mags, I just…I just want to talk.”

She shook her head, checking the time again.  What the hell?  And he’s probably drunk.  Standing out there in the rain like he’s got absolutely no sense. 

She pressed the door buzzer.  “Don’t wake my neighbors,” she admonished him.

Maggie pulled the wooly cream colored robe tighter around herself, tying the belt securely and she stalked to the door, opening it to wait for Michael.  She watched him coming up the stairs, his soaked hair matted to his head.  His wet shoes squeaked softly with each footfall.  She started to say something snippy but noticed the haunted look in his eyes, so she simply stepped back and let him into the apartment.  She closed the door behind him and walked to the kitchen counter where she leaned back, crossing her arms, head cocked at him expectantly.

Michael stood just inside the doorway, rainwater pooling all around his feet.  He looked ill at ease and uncertain.

“Well?” she finally said.

He ran his fingers through his wet hair and sighed deeply.

“Oh for God’s sake, Michael!”  She left him standing there and returned with a large blue towel.  “You’re soaked.”

She took his jacket from him and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair.  As he used the towel to dry his face and hair, she couldn’t help herself.  “Are you drunk?”

He frowned and shook his head.  “I’m not drunk.  I had some bourbon.  I might be drunk.  A little.”

Maggie rolled her eyes.  “Sit down.  I’m making you some coffee so we can send you home.  Have you eaten lately?”

“I don’t know.”  Michael sank onto a chair at the kitchen table.  He glanced around as Maggie busied herself putting a kettle of water on the stove and taking a French press from a cupboard.

“I hope I’m not causing a problem with your fiancé.  Husband?  Whatever.”

Maggie paused to look at him, her lips forming a grim line.  “Yeah, well, that didn’t work out so…no worries.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

She worked in silence breaking eggs into a bowl and putting strips of bacon into a skillet as Michael sat at the table and occasionally used the towel to swipe at his face.   On the stove, the bacon began to sizzle as the kettle whistled.  Maggie poured the boiling water into the press and let it stand for a moment as she chopped a small onion and part of a green pepper.

“Did you know Stan Hodges died?” Michael finally asked.

Maggie arched an eyebrow.  “I was at the funeral.  Where were you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered vaguely.  He watched her grate cheddar into the eggs.  Then she pressed the plunger on the coffee and poured some into a cornflower blue mug with a white script ‘M’ on the side.

M for Maggie. Or Michael.  He shook his head to dismiss the inane thought.  Looking around the small apartment, he asked, “Why are you still here?”

Maggie glanced over her shoulder.  “What, I should move uptown into one of your glass and steel monstrosities?”

“I was just thinking that you could afford a bigger place, that’s all.”

“This may be a tiny apartment but this building has soul.  Once upon a time, a family called this place home.  Maybe I can’t afford to own a whole townhouse but at least I can rent a small part of it.”

Michael watched her for a moment.  “You could have bought your own townhouse if you’d stayed with the firm.”

Maggie turned around and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms.  “If I’d stayed, I’d have been out of a job along with everyone else.  You really tanked everyone, you know that, right?”

He looked down at his hands.  “I wouldn’t have pursued the television thing if you’d still been there.”

She snorted, returning to her cutting board.  “Bullshit.  Being on the news every night is exactly your thing.  You can’t put that off on me.”

She set the coffee in front of him.  “What are you doing here, Michael?”

He stalled, sipping the steaming hazelnut blend.  “This isn’t where I meant to be.  I went out and ended up down here in the Village.  I was at the Blue Note until they kicked everybody out.  I got a little lost and then realized I was across the street from your apartment.”

Maggie turned back to her omelet, stirring in the vegetables.  The bacon had quieted down and she turned over the strips, causing them to erupt into loud sizzling once again.  “Why are you here?” she asked again.

“I’m sick,” he said quietly.

“I don’t doubt it.  It’s forty degrees outside and you’re soaked.  It’s a wonder you don’t have pneumonia.”

“It’s cancer.”

Maggie froze mid-stir.  “What?”  Slowly, she turned around.

“Cancer.”

“Shit.”  She crossed to the table and sank onto the chair across from him, gaping at him wide-eyed.

“There was this spot.  And then they found out it was melanoma.”  Michael’s face twisted.  “Mags, you wouldn’t believe the chunk they cut out of my shoulder.”

“Well, they got it then,” she said.  “Good.  That’s good, right?”

“Bacon’s burning,” Michael said quietly.

“Fuck!”  She jumped up and took the pan off the burner.

“I like it that way,” he offered as she set the strips of bacon on a paper towel to drain and poured the omelet into the pan.

“So after they took the hunk out of my arm they did a biopsy.  It was melanoma, just like the doctor said.  Then they had me get a PET scan.  Said they needed to see if it had spread.”

Maggie worked mechanically at the egg mixture in the pan, listening intently as he spoke.  “And?” she asked as she slid the omelet onto a blue ceramic plate.  She placed it in front of him and sat down again.

“And they called this afternoon to say they have the results.  The doctor wouldn’t discuss it over the phone.  He wants me to come in tomorrow.”  He looked down at the plate.  “He said I should have someone with me.”

“Oh my God.  Michael.”

He nodded.  “I started making phone calls.  That’s how I found out about Stan.  Which was after I called Murph and then Jimbo.  They pretty much told me to go fuck myself.”

Maggie watched him grimly.  I imagine they did. 

“I called some of the women I go out with.  I guess everybody has a lot going on.”  He sighed.  “I thought about calling you.  But, I don’t know.  I’ve been an asshole.  Plus I figured you were busy with getting married and stuff.”  He met her eyes.  “I didn’t mean to come here, honest to God.”

She watched him pick at the omelet.  “My agent’s pissed at me because I bailed on some appearances.  Asking her to come with me is out of the question.  She’s probably not in town anyway.”

Michael shook his head.  “I don’t know why they’re insisting that someone comes with me to that appointment tomorrow.  I should just go and find out what the scan shows, figure out where to go from there.  It’s just…”  His voice broke.  “Mags, I’m scared shitless.”  He put down the fork and held his head in his hands.

Maggie could never have imagined a scenario in which S. Michael Rannigan would break down sobbing at her kitchen table.  She felt as though her heart would break.

“Michael,” she said softly, standing beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder.  His body shook as he let loose the emotions that had been building since the day the nightmare had started.  “It’s okay,” she murmured.  “It’s okay, everything’s going to be alright.”  She waited for him to quiet down.  “What time is your appointment?”

Michael sat up, sniffing and using the towel to wipe his face.  “Shit.”  He coughed and took a sip of coffee.  “I have to be there at 1:30.”

Maggie looked over to where her files still sat scattered in the living room.  She knew they probably represented ten hours of work for the following day and sighed heavily.  “Where is the doctor’s office?”

“It’s on E. 80th between 2nd and 3rd.”

She nodded.  “Okay.  I’ll tell Rance that I have to leave at lunch.  I’ll meet you there.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Michael said quickly, but he looked at her with such gratitude she felt the sting of tears in her eyes and a huge lump formed in her throat.

She coughed lightly.  “You didn’t ask, although you seem to have asked everyone else in your Contacts, and I’m going to try not to take that personally,” she said.  “I’m offering.  Take it or leave it.”

Michael smiled thinly.  “I’ve missed your smartass.  I’d be so glad to have you with me.”

Maggie nodded.  “Done.  But if for some reason I’m running late, you go on in.  I’ll be there.  I promise.”  She took his plate and warmed it in the microwave before placing it in front of him again.  “Now finish this up.  I’m calling you a cab and sending you on your way.”

Use this link to get your copy of RUNNING ROGUE
at your favorite online bookseller:
books2read.com/RunningRogue

Or start at the beginning with
RESISTING RISK: books2read.com/ResistingRisk

Out Today! THE VIKING’S POSSESSION by Felicity Brandon

War captured her, desire captivated her,
but can her Viking captor truly possess her?

Felicity Brandon

OMG, you guys, it’s the day I’ve been waiting for ever since I finished THE VIKING’S CONQUEST, Felicity Brandon’s international best-selling steamy Viking tale.

Here’s what THE VIKING’S POSSESSION is all about.

After she saves the life of Prince Anders, the Viking warrior who took her as his captive and tamed both her body and her heart, nineteen-year-old Princess Aurelie of Donrose knows that she can never return home again. She will belong to Anders forever, as his bride and his possession, destined to be used and enjoyed as thoroughly, shamefully, and often as he pleases.

Though Anders has proven many times that he is more than willing to punish her bare bottom harshly for any disobedience, with war fast approaching between her brother and her husband, Aurelie puts her own life in danger in the hopes of making peace. But when her reckless gamble goes wrong, can Anders rescue his headstrong young wife before any harm comes to her?

The Viking’s Possession is the sequel to The Viking’s Conquest, but can be read as a stand-alone novel. It includes spankings, and sexual scenes, including some scenes of sexual humiliation. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

“I surrender to him at this moment, lost to the intimacy every inch as much as the pain had cast me adrift earlier. He loves me, this man. My ferocious Viking invader is as sincere as he is brutal. He’s the sentimental sadist, if such a thing should exist, and right now he is trapped beneath my hot, writhing body.”

Felicity Brandon1

I chose the 18+ excerpt to share with you.  You’re welcome!

Ignoring me, Anders presses on, pushing the phallus inside my ass. I buck against my bondage as it invades me, utterly conflicted by the experience. The ropes make it impossible to prevent this intrusion, and we both know it. This is why Anders has chosen to secure me in such a bizarre way. My sex and my ass are totally exposed, and vulnerable to his every dark desire.

“Feel my phallus claim you, my sweeting.” His voice floats from down between my legs. “You will take this for me for the rest of this punishment, and whilst you do, you’ll remember who is in charge. You’ll remember who can touch, claim, and explore, and who must yield, receive, and endure.”

I groan again, my head now flat against the bedding as the stone fills my ass. It’s not the largest implement, and Anders’ manhood is certainly longer, but the hard, cold stone is different to what I’m used to. It’s odd and unsettling, reinforcing Anders’ point with perfect clarity—he is in charge. He is in control. All I can do is take it, take the phallus and take my punishment.

Once he is finally satisfied that I have taken the length of the stone, Anders swats my ass playfully. “Good girl,” he says teasingly. “You will keep that phallus in place until I tell you otherwise.” His body shifts and his face comes into view over my bound body. “Do you understand?”

I’m nodding even before I’ve had time to process his question. This is what Anders does to me. He takes my usual clear-headed wilfulness and turns it to mush. I can argue, I can push and protest, but in the end, I know I will always submit to this man. “Yes, I understand, my Lofðungr,” I murmur.

He nods, smiling as he leans down to plant a chaste kiss on my panting mouth. “Now, let me pleasure you some more…”

His body slips from view and I squirm needlessly in my ropes. It’s like I cannot keep still because I know now what he has in mind. He doesn’t want to pleasure me at all, he only wants to build me up to the brink of ecstasy, before abandoning the pursuit. He wants to torture me with denial—that is my punishment. As his mouth descends to my pulsating sex once more, I’m overwrought with misery. His ministrations are amazing, his tongue flicking over my excited nib at perfect intervals, whilst the phallus fills my ass in its hard and denigrating way.

Within a moment I am right there again. My mind reels, and I consciously try to control my breathing, reasoning that I can fool Anders. Perhaps if I don’t make my burgeoning pleasure so obvious, I can trick him into thinking I am not at the brink. Perhaps I can achieve my orgasm after all? The idea gives me a glimmer of hope. I close my eyes, willing myself to remain as calm as I can in light of his merciless pursuit of my suffering, but oh, Gods, it’s just too good. Before I know what is happening I am panting again, my nipples beading painfully as Anders takes me right to the brink, before—inevitably—stopping short of allowing me to climax.

This time I screech in frustration, not caring what the consequences of my outburst will be. Damn him! Damn this man who has captured me in just about every way possible. It’s as though this Viking can read my mind, and he knows instinctively when I am about to explode. He is the only man who has ever known me carnally, and it seems he is truly at one with my body.

“Now, now, Aurelie,” he tells me, admonishing me in a gleeful way. “What did I warn you about that pretty little mouth?”

My eyes fly open, and I moan out of instinct, my hips—still rolled forward by the bondage—struggling desperately for some stimulus as Anders shifts from the bed. I’m vaguely aware of him stripping beside me, and then he disappears from my view, striding to the other side of the room. By the time he returns, I’m desperate. The weight of the contradiction afflicts me. The same things that irritate and repel me—the strange bondage, the phallus shoved inside me, and the unrelenting denial of pleasure—also arouse me. I know without needing to check that I am soaking with desire. Anders is playing my body like an instrument.

“Open up, my sweeting,” his voice coos from my left side.

I blink up at his towering naked form. His body is hard, chiselled perfection, and his cock juts out eagerly in front of him. My eyes dart to his hand, which he presents to me. Between his thumb and forefinger is one of the small orange fruits he had taunted me with in the Viking camp. My belly knots in anxiety. I know what is coming next.

“Now, Aurelie,” he tells me, his tone increasingly insistent.

My lips part slowly, my breath shaky with apprehension as I comply.

The expression on Anders’ face is pure lust as he appraises me. “I warned you, my sweeting,” he purrs, and I watch as the fruit moves into view, descending slowly toward my waiting mouth. “I asked for silence, and since you cannot comply, instead I offer you fruit. I’m sure you remember my favourite fruit, Aurelie.” He chuckles at his own words. “I always keep a bowl of fresh fruit in my chambers.”

If he expects a reply, then he gives me no time to offer one. The orange fruit slides perfectly into my mouth, capturing my teeth around its soft flesh. He grins down at me, satisfied with what he sees, and I do not try to resist. The fruit, I suppose, is inevitable. He must have known I would never be able to contain my responses during this penance, even if I hadn’t. This is what Anders had planned all along.

The realisation makes me wretched, or at least it would do if I wasn’t so intolerably turned on.

Get your copy of The Viking’s Possession today!
mybook.to/Possess

Link to contest which runs until June 15th: https://www.facebook.com/felicitybrandonerotica/posts/2262505567099717

About Felicity:

Felicity Brandon is a #1 international bestselling, and award winning writer of dark, spanking romance. Head in the clouds, you can usually find her either plotting her next book, hitting the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music. She lives to write though, and is happiest creating desire and kink at her keyboard.

 

Find Felicity here:

Website and blog: https://felicitybrandonwrites.com/
Subscribe to my sexy newsletter here and receive links to download a FREE BDSM short by me! https://www.subscribepage.com/FelicityBrandon
Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/FierceAF/
Amazon author page: https://www.facebook.com/felicitybrandonerotica/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/felicity-brandon

Out Today! HIS DEVIL’S MERCY by Linzi Basset

Linzi Basset1

Great news!  The next installment of Linzi Basset’s Club Devil’s Cove series, Book 4, HIS DEVIL’S MERCY, is out today!

Have you met Maximilian Shaw?

“Horny, baby?”

Horny was putting it mildly. Max was a weakness, her body refused to give up. Her life, for one reason or another always circled back to him.

Sometimes he saved her. Sometimes she saved him.

*********************************************************

“Whatever makes you think I’m done with you, baby?”

Max was also insatiable—a ferocious lover and a devilish Dom. Fantasy material as he was, for a lot of subs at the Club Devil’s Cove, his hungry eyes were squarely on Joanne, who wore kink like she was born for it. She brought out something in him that no one else could. Max wanted to keep her safe from the danger still looming on the horizon. But who would save her . . . from Max?

*********************************************************

“Mercy? When it comes to you and me, there’s no mercy, luv. For neither of us.”

As the dance of passion ensues, Max and Joanne must find the trust and resilience to weather the storm headed their way. The decisions that Max makes now, will decide the difference between life and death. Will he find the strength to deliver them through the vicious spiral of lies and espionage?  Or will their hopes crash and burn?

And ultimately, who will save them . . . from themselves?

Linzi Basset2

Here’s a little teaser…

“Now wasn’t that refreshing, my pet?”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Joanne managed to say, still gasping.

“If you want to insult me, I expect you to do it at least correctly, sub,” Max warned.

“You, Master Jag, are a fucking asshole,” she snapped.

“You’ve always been a fast learner, my pet.” Max was in his element. He loved the way her eyes lit up with anger at him. The fact that she didn’t try and hide it, excited him to no end. It was the one thing that challenged him as a Dom—a bratty sub. It offered so many satisfying opportunities to exert his dominance.

“Are you ready for your final turn, Violet? I have a craving to hear your throaty cries fill my ears.”

“Just fucking spin the wheel, Sir asshole!”

“You might have been out of the lifestyle for a year, sub, but in here, I won’t tolerate your continued disrespect.” This time there was no mistaking the warning in his voice. Joanne stared at him, realizing just how badly she’d been behaving. She’d become so used to being the one in charge that she was on the edge of acting like a Domme herself.

“Care to try that again, Violet?”

“Please spin the wheel, Sir,” she cooed in a sugar-sweet voice.

“That’s much better,” Max chuckled dangerously and set the wheel turning. By the time it stopped, Joanne was feeling giddy. There was anticipation in the room about what was coming. When Max pulled out a short-tailed flogger from his toy bag, she knew why.

“I see you know what’s coming, luv and I’m delighted that it excites you so much.” He dragged in a deep breath with his nose tilted upward. “Ah, such an enticing aroma. Is your pussy eager to feel the sting of my flogger, my pet?”

Joanne bit her lip. She refused to respond and wished she could press her knees together to contain the lust that throbbed afresh in her loins.

Links for HIS DEVIL’S MERCY:
Amazon: https://buff.ly/2KvvR7k
AmazonUK: https://buff.ly/2rPS8G5
Universal Link: https://buff.ly/2IqGGa1

 

If you haven’t started the series yet, now is the time to click here and catch up before this book is released and remember, it’s available on Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HfFKFU
AmazonUK: https://amzn.to/2HcQ5lO

 

Feel free to stalk Linzi Basset:

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New From Nia Farrell–PATRIOT GAMES Replay Book 10

Will the third time be the charm?

PATRIOT GAMES, Book 10 from Nia Farrell’s Replay series, is out NOW!

Replay Dominant Richard Benjamin Franklin lost Gini Shelton to Marcus Vos and Jannet MacDonald to Ian McGregor.  Now it’s Revolutionary War weekend, and he’s been assigned a new submissive—and not just anyone.  Victoria St. Leger is the Replay owner’s sister and an heiress in her own right.  Earning her submission will be the ultimate prize.

This weekend they’ll play Patriot and Loyalist, Whig and Tory.  However, this Tory’s surrender isn’t guaranteed despite the electricity that sizzles between them.  Rich might have her, but can he hold her, when her life is in England and he’s stuck here?  And will he want her, once he learns Tory’s secret?

She’s not just descended from a witch.  She is one.

This paranormal BDSM erotic romance has adult content, hints of reincarnation, and elements of magick.  Written for ages 18+.

How about a steamy little snippet from PATRIOT GAMES?

Tory took him in her mouth, licking his length and sucking his cock until his skin gleamed with her saliva.  She kissed the tip and crawled up his body.  Reaching between them, she grasped his erection and held it.  Parting her folds with his crown, she found her opening and slid down onto his shaft.

He was too much for her, but she was greedy for his possession.  She remembered how totally he’d filled her.  How he’d claimed her mouth, her pussy, her arse.  How he’d taken his time, being careful to not hurt her with that massive erection of his.  She’d never handled a man his size.  She hadn’t been certain that she could.

Somehow, they managed to fit.

What a sensation that was, being filled completely by a man who was focused on her and committed to meeting her needs.  It just kept getting better.  He more than filled her, but her body delighted in accommodating him, stretching to allow his possession.  He played with her breasts, squeezing her mounds, catching the tips between his fingers, pinching, tugging, and twisting them, sending a searing bolt of sexual energy to her root and belly chakras.

She did the same, twisting the hard peaks of his nipples and feeling his cock swell inside her.  Leaning down, she took a pebbled tip in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth, flicking it with her tongue, closing her lips and sucking on his sensitive flesh.

“Yes,” he grated, fisting her hair and pressing her face to his chest.  “God damn, that’s good.  Suck it, duchess.  Suck me and fuck me.”

She slid a hand between them to finger her clit, rubbing circles over her sensitive button of flesh.  The pressure built.  Her body stiffened, poised on the edge of release.

“Please, Sir,” she begged him.  “I need…I need…”

His fist pulled on her hair, turning her face up to meet his dark gaze.  The expression on his face was fierce, with nostrils flared, his jaw clamped, and breath hissing between his teeth.  Beneath her, she felt his testes tighten, signaling his own eminent release.

“Come for me,” he ordered.

She came with a cry, shattering around him and over him, needing his touch to keep her anchored, his fingers to pick up the pieces and put them back into place.

PATRIOT GAMES is available for the 99¢ Special Intro Price.   It’s also FREE with KU!

Amazon http://mybook.to/RB10
Goodreads http://bit.ly/Replay10GR
Teasers and Excerpts http://bit.ly/Replay10WP

Sexy Summer Snippet–JUST ONE NIGHT Anniversary

JON new-updated June 2018

Just in time for the second anniversary of its publication, JUST ONE NIGHT, my naughty little summer novella, has a brand new look!

In the story, teacher Katie Parker is on her annual Girls’ Getaway vacation cruise in the Caribbean with her besties from high school.  This year, she’s determined to find a handsome stranger to help her forget about her latest romantic disaster.  All she wants is a night of anonymous passion.

Mac Coleman, traveling to Mexico for his brother’s wedding, is more than happy to go along with Katie’s plan.  But now, can he convince her that what they’ve found is worth more than just one night?

Here’s a steamy little snippet.

Dressed in fluffy white bathrobes emblazoned with the crest of the cruise line, Mac and Katie took their glasses out onto the veranda.  The full moon was setting on the horizon as a light tropical breeze ruffled their hair.

Mac watched her thoughtfully.  “This is revenge sex, isn’t it?  Somebody did you wrong.”

Katie returned his gaze but said nothing.

“I don’t mean to pry.  I know you said no personal information.  But you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who does this kind of thing all the time.”

She sighed.  “I don’t.  Like I said, this is a ‘one night only’ event.  Besides,” she looked away, “he wouldn’t care anyway.”

“Then he’s a damn fool.”

Katie laughed humorlessly.  “Be that as it may…”

Mac gazed out over the water.  “I haven’t had the best luck myself.  My last relationship ended in a restraining order.”  Katie looked at him sharply.  “I mean, I had to take out a restraining order after I broke up with her and she started stalking me.  I’m moving to get away from her.”

Unable to resist, Katie blurted her question.  “You’re moving to get away from a woman?”

“Well, it’s also a good opportunity.  A promotion and a raise and all.  But mostly, I don’t want to have to deal with her anymore.  A new town, a new job…all waiting for me when I get back.”

Katie sipped her wine thoughtfully.  “I suppose all in all, it worked out for you.

“I suppose.”  They stood in companionable silence, appreciating the soft Caribbean breeze caressing their faces and the quiet rumble of the ship’s engines tickling their feet.

Mac turned to Katie.  “I’m wondering if there’s any chance of us getting together tomorrow night.”

She smiled sadly.  “That would be breaking the rules.  Just one night, remember?”

“You sort of have this school teacher thing about rules, don’t you?”

Again, Katie looked at him sharply and didn’t respond.

Mac reached to grasp a lock of her red hair and twisted it around his finger.  “Well, seeing as how we have just this one night, I’d like very much to take you back to bed and make love to you one more time.”

Back inside the cabin, he gently helped her off with her robe and into bed, before dropping his own and climbing in beside her.  Head propped on one elbow, he gazed down at her, lightly tracing his finger along her body.  “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips with his own.  Katie responded, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, kissing him passionately.

In contrast to their earlier frenzied and frenetic fucking, this time was unhurried and deliberate.  Mac placed himself between her legs, nudging them further apart with his own, and he held himself over her.  Katie gripped his shoulders as he slid himself home, fresh condom in place, and began pumping himself slowly in and out of her battered sex.  The pair kept their eyes locked on each other as once again, their moments built, Katie raising her knees to allow him to penetrate her as deeply as possible.  She shattered as she came this time, crying out unintelligibly and he followed after her, pausing to plant a chaste kiss on her lips before collapsing on the bed beside her.

At only 99¢, JUST ONE NIGHT is the cheapest vacation you ever loved.

Use this link to get your copy: books2read.com/JustOneNight

Weekend Excerpt–FOR SPARROW

jessi bath

She’s a sub without a Dom.
He’s a Dom without a sub.
For the time being, it’s perfect.

FOR SPARROW is the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection.  It’s the winner of the 2017 New Apple Award in Literary Erotica, and it’s a Golden Flogger Nominee for Best BDSM book of 2018.

When Jessi Crenshaw’s husband Graham dies unexpectedly, she’s devastated. He’s the only man she’s ever loved. Just eighteen when she met him, she’s been married to him for twenty-five years. Now she’s lost her friend, her lover…and her Dominant. 

But as it turns out, Graham had an inkling that his health was in decline, and he tapped his friend and protégé in the Lifestyle, firefighter and paramedic Judd Farris, to be Jessi’s Dominant until she gets back on her feet. 

Judd is determined to fulfill his promise to his friend. But it’s a damn odd arrangement—a platonic Dom/sub relationship. With her fiery auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and audacious spirit, Jessi captured his attention the first time he ever saw her. At her husband’s funeral. 

A man could go to hell for the things he’s been thinking. But they’ve drawn a line, and he’s going to stick to it.

Judd’s sexy good looks and his gentle confidence aren’t lost on Jessi. She’s torn between loyalty to the man she loved, and desire for the man increasingly in her fantasies. In the letter Graham left for her, he mentioned that she might find Judd attractive. But that’s simply ridiculous. He’s five years younger than she is. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Could he?

Judd’s a Dom without a sub, and Jessi’s a sub without a Dom. It’s perfect for the time being. Could it be that Graham had more in mind than merely a temporary solution? 

And could it all end at the hands of a madman?

Here’s a HOT teaser from FOR SPARROW.

Jessi stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. The image she saw looked tired, dark circles under listless eyes. She turned to the side, examining herself in profile. She’d probably lost weight, although she’d never step on a scale to find out.
Facing forward again, she reached up, twisting her long auburn hair into a topknot, and she turned her head this way and that. Forty-five. She didn’t look so bad, did she?

Do you suppose a man like Judd might be attracted…

Her eyes widened. Where did that thought come from? She had just been staring at her dead husband’s closet. How could she even think about…

A determined glint in her eye, she slowly removed her clothes, dropping item after item until she stood nude in the mirror. She used a tortoiseshell clip to fasten her hair up again and stood, hands on her waist, assessing what she saw. Her face was virtually unlined, only the slightest hint of laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. She traced the fingers of her right hand along her jawline. Fastidious application of sun block over the years had undoubtedly helped.

Nothing like creamy Irish skin to discourage a love of sunbathing, she considered.

Her gaze slid down from her face, skipping over her breasts to her stomach, which was amazingly flat.

Yeah, grief will do that to you. She snorted at the thought.

She skimmed further down to the V where her legs met. A light smattering of red pubic hair didn’t hide the cleft there. Judd had been insistent about her toenails. Would he think that she needed to wax, too?

Lightly, she smoothed her fingertips down her neck and hesitated briefly before bringing up her hands to cup her breasts. They’d increased over the years, from a B cup before Cara had been born, to the DDs they were now. They weren’t as high as they used to be, she noticed, hefting their weight in the mirror. She slid her hands to capture her rose-tipped nipples between her fingers, squeezing them and causing them to pebble tightly.

God, she wanted a man’s hands there. Judd’s hands. There was no sense in denying it. Not in the privacy of her bathroom, at least.

He’d given her permission for release. Once. He’d been very clear about it. She felt the need in her core.

Naked, she returned to Graham’s closet. As her Master, he’d been the keeper of their toys. Ignoring a flicker of guilt, she opened the door and pushed aside his suits and slacks. When they’d bought the house, Graham had kindly accepted the smaller of the two master closets; his was merely a rack of clothes behind a door. Jessi had been treated to the huge walk-in on the opposite wall.

But it was behind his things, on a shelf at the back, where he kept the ornate burlwood box that held their small assortment of dildos, vibrators, clamps, and other toys, and it had been Graham who had chosen what they’d use and when.

Jessi realized that part of her objection to Cara’s plan might have stemmed from the fear of her children discovering her stash of sex toys. She suppressed a smile at the picture of her daughter unearthing the box in front of her boyfriend.

It’s going to stay in my closet from now on, she thought, closing the door and placing the box on the bed. Lifting the hinged lid, she scanned the contents. The wand was always a good choice. But she craved penetration. Moving aside the wand, she selected the rabbit vibrator with its clear pink latex design. She closed the lid of the box, carried it to her closet where she placed it on a low shelf, and took the chosen vibrator into the bathroom.

Up to her neck in lavender-scented bubbles, Jessi sighed. The room was lit only by a handful of tea light candles she’d placed around the edges of the garden tub. She closed her eyes and recalled the feeling of being in Judd’s arms earlier in the day. He’d told her that he was proud of her, and that had pleased Jessi immensely.

And he’d given her permission to come. The impish sparkle in his eyes had held the promise of a skilled lover.

Her eyes popped open. Why had she thought that? Nevermind. Focus on the task at hand.

She leaned back once again, eyes closed, as she began to stroke and knead her breasts, pulling her nipples tightly, picturing lips suckling them, a tongue caressing them, as the heat built between her thighs. She slid one hand lower to stroke her needy sex, finding the sensitive nub erect with arousal. Rubbing intensely, she brought herself to the edge of orgasm, but slowed down. If she was only getting one, she was going to make it last.

Her hands retreated to her breasts again, then slowly traveled back down to her pussy, where she nearly rubbed herself to completion again. This time, she picked up the pink rabbit waiting on the edge of the tub and clicked it once. Lowering the vibrator to her clit, she gasped as her eyes rolled back with pleasure. Realizing she couldn’t hold out much longer, she slid the phallus to her sensitive entrance, pressing slowly into her core, all the while imagining Judd, holding himself over her, pushing his way into her needy space. The outer part of the dildo vibrated against her clit as she fucked herself.

“Oh, God,” she moaned softly, her moment building. “Oh, shit, holy…Judd!” Orgasm thundered over her as she gasped, her body shuddering with intense release. As her quaking subsided, she switched off the dildo, but left it in place as she floated back to earth.

Sparrow 5 star review

FOR SPARROW is available in both digital and paperback formats at your favorite online bookseller.