Tuesday, 31 December 2013

Advance Excerpt - Switching Mercedes

Today is day two of the advance excerpt post for, Switching Mercedes, which releases on January 1st. I hope you enjoy your second sneak peek at book three in my Wylde Shore Series.

Zane Reynolds believes he’s found the perfect submissive for he and his brother but there’s a problem.  Mistress Mercedes Harris-Shore doesn’t want to submit to anyone. Zane hopes a bet will solve that issue, along with providing the key to finally win not only Mercedes's submission, but also her heart.
Ash Reynolds knows he isn’t a good man for any woman to fall in love with. He’s a paid mercenary, disillusioned with life and his ability to fit into the civilized world. Zane insists he’s found the perfect woman for them to share, but the problem is, Mercedes has no idea Ash exists.

Mercedes has more to worry about than a wager where she plays submissive to Zane for a week. She’s just become a serial killer’s new target and met the man assigned to protect her, Zane’s twin, Ash Reynolds. Ash appears as interested in her submission as Zane, but Mercedes isn’t looking to be shared.
A Siren Erotic Romance

Categories: Erotic Romance, BDSM, Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre
Content: Erotic Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, paddling, flogging, wax play, sex toys, HEA.
Word Count: 130,784
Heat Level: SEXTREME
Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Pre-Order Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/switching-mercedes

God she was adorable. He felt like he was a schoolboy being given a good dressing down by an angry principal. If he was any way inclined to that sort of thing he’d be hard as a rock by now. No wonder she was considered the best professional Mistress in the city. Instead he grew hard for other reasons. The black leather dress she wore fit her like a glove with the zip front pushing her breasts together and up to show the most alluring cleavage, like two soft pillow tops he wanted to bury his face in then bite just for the pleasure of hearing her moan. Her thigh high boots allowed for only the smallest peek of sheer nylon-covered flesh between boot top and dress hem. He wanted to raise the hemline and see what lay beneath.
She appeared to be on a roll, although he’d given up listening to the barrage of insults she fired at his brother. If he was Zane, which of course he wasn’t, he’d wait for her to calm herself, get the fact he’d annoyed her off her chest, and then proceed. But he wasn’t Zane, and the one inherent difference between the two of them was his brother was far more patient with women, especially when they were upset. Ash, on the other hand, knew exactly how to soothe this savage beast.
He casually butted out the cigar on the wall, pocketing the extinguished two-thirds. After all, with trade embargos, Cubans were hard to come by unless one visited the country, and he wouldn’t be back there for the foreseeable future. He expected his target to step back when he pushed away from the wall and stood upright, but she didn’t. Too busy explaining how she was happy with a casual sex arrangement and that was all a Neanderthal like Zane could ever hope for. Too bad he wasn’t his brother. He’d probably reconsider what he was about to do.
With lightening speed he reached out his arm and circled her waist, pulling her toward him. A quick one-eighty-degree spin had her in the shadows, back to the wall, surrounded by his larger frame.
“Enough.” He covered her mouth with his in their second, long overdue kiss, swallowing her fury and any objections she may have been about to voice. She responded with a seductive moan as their tongues entwined. He had her, and this time he wouldn’t let her go until she screamed his name. Well, his brother’s name actually. Damn it, he should just tell her.
All notions of confession were blown away when she looped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled herself up onto his body, her legs circling his waist. He clasped the globes of her ass in both hands and assisted in repositioning her, standing taller and wedging her more tightly between the brickwork and his body. He moved his hands in turn, repositioning them under the leather of her dress, dragging it up as he cupped the bare flesh of her ass cheeks. She was either commando or wearing a G-string. Knowing the latter more likely to be true, he slid his fingers to the crease of her ass until he found a thread of material. Following the thin trail of lace to the wetness between her legs, he moved the lace aside, allowing his fingers to delve between her lips before sliding effortlessly inside her… one…two…three.
As the third long digit pushed inside, Mercedes broke the kiss, exhaling a breathless moan of pleasure, her cunt tightening around his fingers.
“Fuck my fingers and come for me, baby.” He’d prefer to have her come on his cock, but he refused to be caught with his pants down if Bethany chose to show up for their meeting.
“Not here, please, Zane.” Despite the request for a change of venue, Mercedes thrust downward. Ash extended his thumb to rub over her clit, resulting in another mewling of delight from his now totally aroused and compliant little hellcat as she rode his fingers, driving them deep inside.
“No one can see you, baby, I’ve got you covered.” Sweet pussy juice spread over his hand as her cunt began to pulse around him in a flurry of release. She pulled his hair and buried her face against his chest, muffling the passionate cry as she came. “Again.”
This time he did the maneuvering of his fingers, thrusting them deep and fast within her, quickly bringing her to another climax.
“Please no more, not here. You know I don’t like public displays.” Mercedes cupped his face between her hands and rested her forehead against his. “I need you buried deep inside me, your skin against mine, but not here.”
Not here, great.
“Your place or mine?” It was obvious Beth was a no-show, so leaving the area didn’t matter. He’d contact her later.
“Neither.” She lowered her legs and pushed away from him, straightening her hem as she headed straight for the staff entry door. “The perfect place is right inside. You have a lock on your office door so we won’t be disturbed.”
Fuck, no. She was inside the club before he could stop her. Zane was working tonight, which meant he needed to stay the hell out of there, but instead he followed, hoping to drag her back into his arms and change her mind before anyone found out Zane Reynolds had a doppelganger.

Monday, 30 December 2013

Advance Excerpt - Switching Mercedes

As it's nearly time for Switching Mercedes (Wylde Shore 3) to be released, I thought over the next two days I'd share a couple of excerpts, just to tempt your appetite.

I hope you enjoy this sneak peek at the book which goes on sale January 1st through Siren Publishing. 

For those enjoy contemporary, romantic suspense with a BDSM theme this could turn out to be the perfect read to keep you warm on a chilly winter nights. ☺

Pre-order Buy Link:  Click to purchase
All ebook formats are available through Bookstrand which has the exclusive sale rights for the next few weeks. 

Switching Mercedes will be available through other retailers like Amazon in approximately four weeks.

Zane Reynolds believes he’s found the perfect submissive for he and his brother but there’s a problem.  Mistress Mercedes Harris-Shore doesn’t want to submit to anyone. Zane hopes a bet will solve that issue, along with providing the key to finally win not only Mercedes's submission, but also her heart.
Ash Reynolds knows he isn’t a good man for any woman to fall in love with. He’s a paid mercenary, disillusioned with life and his ability to fit into the civilized world. Zane insists he’s found the perfect woman for them to share, but the problem is, Mercedes has no idea Ash exists.

Mercedes has more to worry about than a wager where she plays submissive to Zane for a week. She’s just become a serial killer’s new target and met the man assigned to protect her, Zane’s twin, Ash Reynolds. Ash appears as interested in her submission as Zane, but Mercedes isn’t looking to be shared.

A Siren Erotic Romance
Categories: Erotic Romance, BDSM, Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre
Content: Erotic Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, paddling, flogging, wax play, sex toys, HEA.
Word Count: 130,784
Siren Heat Level: SEXTREME
Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion taking place on the far side of the taped-off area of the house. The yellow tape began to flap in the breeze, and officers tried to block access to the scene as a Hercules of Scandinavian appearance barreled his way through their defenses. Mercedes smiled when she heard her name.
“Where is she? Mercedes Harris-Shore, I demand to see her now.” His command boomed out for all to hear in a deep baritone that sent an erotic chill down her spine.
“Do you know him? Should I lock the ambulance doors or tell him you’re over here? He seems really…terrifying. Is he your boyfriend or something?”
She nearly lost track of the young ambulance officer’s rapidly fired questions, too intrigued by the circus unfolding before them.
“Yes, he’s something alright.” Mercedes nearly laughed at the terrified look on the medic’s face. “Oh, and don’t worry, we’re not in any danger.”
Zane reminded her of a Viking. Tall with the broadest shoulders of any man she knew. She watched as muscles rippled beneath the tight black T-shirt he wore, as he swatted uniformed officers away like they were flies. His shoulder-length blond hair, usually neatly combed, swung freely around his face, his strong, square jaw set firm with dogged determination as he worked his way to the front steps of the house, attempting to get inside.
“Would you like me to tell him you’re over here?” the medic asked, an edge of concern in his tone as they watched Zane grab an officer from the front line of defense, lifting him off his feet with ease.
“Where. Is. She?” The larger-than-average uniformed officer hung in the air like a rag doll at the mercy of a petulant toddler.
“No, he’ll find me soon enough, he always does.” Mercedes watched the action with delight. Not only was he divine to look at, but he knew how to make her laugh. Even when he was being an infuriating jerk she found him amusing. If he’d just stop being so dominantly determined she’d be his submissive then he’d be the perfect man for her. After all, what woman wouldn’t want a sexy bad-boy-Viking to come to her rescue? It was certainly better than any puny Prince Charming or a clunky knight in shining armor.
“Put that officer down, Zane Reynolds, before one of my guys shoots you.” Christian’s voice matched Zane’s for volume as he stepped through the doorway and onto the veranda.
“Excellent, Christian Shore, just the man to give me the answers I need.” Zane dropped the young policeman before walking toward her brother. “Where is Mercedes?”
“Once you’ve assured yourself my sister is fine I want you back over here explaining exactly how you found out she was here.” Christian spoke in his don’t-fuck-with-me tone as he pointed toward the ambulance.
It didn’t appear Zane even heard what her brother said because the moment their gazes met Zane stalked toward her, a deep frown creasing his normally relaxed brow.
“Why are you in an ambulance—are you injured?” The ambulance dipped under his weight as he climbed in beside her, meticulously eyeing her for injuries.
“I’m fine. I got upset when I found out what happened to Samantha, so Christian suggested I sit with the medic.” She glared over at the young medic hoping he read the tell-this-guy-nothing look she flashed him. The last thing she needed was for Zane to discover she’d fainted. She maintained a case of show no weakness in relation to Zane, and Mercedes wanted to keep it that way.
In less time than it took to blink, Mercedes found herself perched on Zane’s lap, pressed firmly against his hard chest, his strong arms wrapped around her like a protective shield. Her body warmed instantly, unaware she’d been cold. Frazzled nerves calmed as she rested her head against his chest listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She wanted to wrap her arms around him in return, resting in the cocoon of safety he’d covered her in, but that wasn’t how they rolled and she knew it.
“Of course you were upset. Anyone would be under these circumstances.” His rich, smooth voice and understanding words soothed her weary nerves.

How did he know she needed him, that she wanted to be held and comforted after all she’d witnessed today? How did he always know when to show up, cheering her day, offering support, or annoying the shit out of her then making her laugh? More importantly, why did she always push him away? Her fingers rested on the leather belt at his waist. All she had to do was put her arms around him, accepting the embrace. Then he blew it, like he always did.

Saturday, 28 December 2013

New Release Sneaky Peek - One Flesh by Annabeth Leong


Leticia and Rosalie are planning their wedding, wanting very much to make their special day one to remember, but Rosalie has something else weighing on her mind, one more thing she wants to make as special and as memorable as the ceremony itself—their wedding night. Rosalie wants to be with Leticia in a way that neither of them had ever been with anyone else. But finding something that would be a first time for both of them turns out to be harder than expected.

As it turns out, there is one thing Leticia has wanted to do but has never trusted anyone enough to allow herself to overcome the fear of it. And it's something that Rosalie has never done either.

The women discuss the idea of fisting as a means of connecting and forming an intimate bond with each other, one that they've never formed with anyone else. They've never loved or trusted anyone else they way the love and trust each other, and they are determined to find a way to make it work.


"I'll call tomorrow to tell the church how many flowers we want to order," Leticia said, sighing and folding her notebook closed. No matter how many neat lists she made with her favorite purple pen, the sheer quantity of wedding-related details was overwhelming. "Can you call the caterer back, Rosalie? I still feel like they sneaked a charge in somewhere, but I can't get a straight answer out of them about it."

Her fiancée smiled indulgently. "Better yet. I'll go in person on my lunch break, and they won't know what hit them."

"Great." Leticia rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. She'd wanted to go to bed early, but another evening of wedding planning had made that completely impossible. She was excited to be marrying her one true love and all, but it was easy to lose track of that when she had fourteen phone calls to make and her mother demanded an e-mailed progress report every single night. "That's got to be enough for now."

Leticia stole a quick glance at Rosalie. She'd changed into a cute pair of pajamas when she got home from work, the childish pattern an odd contrast with her sophisticated coppery makeup. Leticia briefly fantasized about peeling the clothing away, revealing her lover's curves and smooth brown skin. Unfortunately, at that very same moment, she had to stifle a yawn. She was so damn sleepy. They would need to get to bed immediately if she was going to give Rosalie proper attention.

"We can't quit planning yet," Rosalie said. "We haven't discussed the most important thing, and it's coming up soon."

Leticia groaned. She flipped her notebook open again and paged through her color-coded, highlighted lists. "We've talked about everything I had listed for the day, and we even went over things that have deadlines coming up in the next few days. I don't see what we're—"

"The wedding night," Rosalie purred. "We haven't discussed that at all."

There was no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes. Leticia actually blushed, the way she had at Rosalie's makeup counter the first time they met, when the other woman's soft words of praise, roughened by the obvious desire in her voice, had gotten Leticia so hot and flushed it had been impossible to identify the correct shade of foundation for her skin tone. She'd been forced to come back later, not that she'd minded.

Now that she'd figured out what Rosalie was hinting at, Leticia played innocent. For all her lover's passion, her Catholic upbringing had left her with an adorable aversion to using direct language. Leticia loved to watch Rosalie get flustered while trying to explain her naughty desires. She batted her eyelashes and focused on her notes again. "We've reserved our hotel room the night of. We've got our plane tickets to Puerto Rico for the honeymoon a couple days after that. Everything appears to be in order."

"The wedding night," Rosalie said, apparently oblivious to Leticia's teasing. She rolled her hands through the air, one over the other, the gesture an invitation to take the word "night" and run with it. "The whole reason I wanted an afternoon wedding was so we could have plenty of time together. Afterward. In the hotel."

"You mean to take a good, long nap? I'm sure we'll be tired after dealing with all the guests, and coming down from pre-wedding nerves, too." Leticia couldn't resist continuing the act.

"Not a nap. But I am talking about what we might do in bed." Now Rosalie colored, a deep red undertone becoming visible beneath the screen of her makeup.

Leticia composed her face as much as she could manage and shrugged. "Oh, are you talking about sex?" A giggle threatened to slip through at Rosalie's incredulous, exasperated expression. "I don't know. I've read tons of articles about how people get so exhausted from all the things leading up to a wedding that they don't even really want to have sex by the time the day is done. We'll have plenty of time for that later in the honeymoon, won't we?"

"Don't even really want to have sex," Rosalie repeated slowly, as if the phrase was a math problem and she couldn't quite work it out. Her forehead wrinkled in utter puzzlement. A snort burst from Leticia. Realization dawned on Rosalie's face. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and tossed it at her. They'd both collapsed in giggles by the time the thin paper floated airily to the floor beside Leticia.

Leticia allowed the force of her laughter to pull her off the chair. She crawled the short space to Rosalie's chair and raised one brown foot to her lips. Leticia did enjoy a little foot worship now and then, but her current mood was far from reverent. Slowly, carefully, she slipped her mouth over Rosalie's polished big toe. She licked until Rosalie's breathing changed, confused between laughter and moaning. Then Leticia lifted off the toe and pressed her mouth to the sole of Rosalie's foot. She inhaled, gripped the ankle tightly, and blew a powerful raspberry.

Rosalie squealed and tried to get away. Leticia smiled but kept up the wet, ticklish vibrations. Rosalie's foot jerked in her hands. Leticia kept hold easily. She had plenty of practice restraining patients, which happened to have fun applications at home.

Rosalie writhed as she laughed. Leticia drew breath for another raspberry, but cut her eyes up as much as she dared. She didn't want to miss the sight of her lover, breasts bouncing under her shirt as her rib cage shook, hips rolling as she struggled to get away, face squeezed tight as if to ward off the unbearable sensation of being tickled. Effectively, this previewed Rosalie's orgasm. Warm arousal spread through Leticia's body as she forced Rosalie to stay in this state, and as she looked forward to seeing the real thing very soon.

Rosalie rained playful blows onto Leticia's head. "Why the hell am I marrying you?" It took forever for her to get the sentence out, as she had to gasp each word between shrieking laughs.

Leticia grinned and tugged at her lower legs. Her lover took the hint and rolled out of the chair to join her on the floor. Leticia wrapped her arms around Rosalie, who felt small and hot and curvy. She slipped one hand down to tickle between her ribs, rewarded by another delicious howl. Rosalie shoved at her chest. "You are evil, I swear."

"I'm sorry," Leticia said softly, managing to sound sincerely regretful. She kissed Rosalie's temples with great tenderness, until her lover relaxed and stopped wriggling. Leticia murmured more soothing words, rubbing Rosalie's back... then licked the side of her face.

Buy Links:

About the Author:

Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors—dark, romantic, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her lesbian stories have appeared in the Lambda Literary Award-nominated Lesbian Cops, Circlet Press's love-spell anthology Like Hearts Enchanted, Lovecraftian erotica book Whispers In Darkness, and others. When not writing erotica, she is frequently reading it. She has lived in six states in various parts of the United States, and traveled to most of the others. Annabeth believes passionately in freedom of speech, rights for people of all sexual orientations, and the need for compassionate religion. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking, and excellent bass lines.

Thursday, 19 December 2013

Author Hot Seat Welcomes Kenya Wright

The author hot seat specials are designed to help readers get to know some of todays popular and up and coming authors a little better. The questions are broken into four sections - About your writing, about you, fun stuff and finally. Some of the questions are easy, other may need a little more thought and some may cause our author friends to hesitate before answering—still, they all answer. 

Our guest author today is Kenya Wright. The multi-genre author is currently on blog tour promoting her latest book Theirs to Play. 

So let's get started and see what Kenya has to say.

Tell us about your latest book. What was your inspiration for writing it, is it part of an ongoing series, the characters, the genre etc?

I really wanted to write a strong contemporary heroine that is similar to the kick-ass heroines of urban fantasy novels, except her weapons are her word play and mind. 

About your writing:

How many books have you written during your career so far and which is your favorite?

I’ve written twenty books. Fourteen have been published. The rest are soon to be released. Which is my favorite is almost an impossible question to answer.

Each time I write a book, I decide to pick a particular topic, research and absorb myself in it. So really each book that I write is sort of an elaborate vacation or journey through something fascinating. When writing Theirs to Play, I spent a lot of time researching Monte Carlo. It’s a fascinating place. So I really can’t think of a favorite.

Have any of your books received negative reviews and how did you handle the situation?

Every book that I or one of my publishers have released, get a negative review. It would be crazy to even think any of them wouldn’t. No one book will be loved by all. Even the Bible has negative reviews. So when I get a negative review I pretty much either don’t read it, have sex with my husband, or continue writing. People’s opinions are theirs, and that’s okay.

Do you believe in writer’s block and if so, how do you overcome it?

I don’t believe in it. However, that is more my inner fear coming through. I currently have twenty plotlines in my head but no time to write them all. The very idea, that I could wake up one day and not have any new character strolling through my mind, freaks me out.

What is the one genre you would never write and why?

Christian romance. That particular market calls for an author that lives a faithful life. I go to church, but I’m a very devilish and naughty person. It would be hypocritical of me to pretend and I hate liars. Additionally, I’ve written erotic romance and most Christian romance publishers and fans don’t appreciate that sort of cross over.

Have you ever written a book that you’ve regretted publishing and why?

Definitely.  A good writer should be improving with each book. Their grammar, craft, storytelling, presentation, everything. . .it all should be even more amazing than the prior book. So when I read some of my earlier books, I cringe. Granted, I still get loads of fans with those books so they weren’t awful. It’s just I write even better.

I read a Stephen King interview once, when he said that he can’t even read his novel Carrie due to how bad it is written. I absolutely love Carrie!

If a reader said they wanted to write a book, what advice would you give them? 

Read in the genre you want to write in. Read all of it—the good and bad. Then read books that are outside of the genre while you’re writing. A writer that doesn’t read in their own genre is a crappy author. Period.

About you:

Tell us what a typical day in your life is like?

I have three kids so I get them ready and drop them off to school. I read a book on the train. Sometimes it is a craft book on how to write a particular way. Sometimes it is literary or my favorite trashy romance! I work at my job/write. My ride back home on the train usually involves a Netflix show, more reading, or me voxing to my best friend about how awesome I am. Then it is dinner, playing with the kids, writing, sex with my husband, and sleep.

What sort of things put you in a bad mood?

News about violence toward kids depresses me. I actually don’t follow the news anymore because my mind simply can’t take horrific stuff.

Do you have a bucket list and what’s one thing you still want to do that you haven’t done?

Orgy! (That’s right. I said it.)
Scuba diving.
Sky diving.
Go to: Paris, Tokyo, and anywhere in Africa.

What makes you laugh?

Funny people and images. The closer to reality they are the better.

What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?

Oh god. When I was a teenager, I used a sock as a maxi pad because I was out in the middle of nowhere and there was no help in site. Poor sock.

Do you like to read and what are you reading at the moment?

I love reading. It is a huge part of my life. I’m reading Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews.

If you couldn’t write anymore, what would you do instead?

Asking a writer what would they do if they couldn’t write, is basically saying. . .what would you do if you were paralyzed from the neck down? It is a sad and horrifying thing to me. But fine. . .I’ll play your game. Lol!

I would do something else that was creative—paint, sew, make movies, etc.

Fun Stuff:

If you could go out with one famous person who would it be and why?

Jason Momoa! Holy Batman’s Hairy Balls! He’s fine!

Do you have a habit that drives your partner/friends/family nuts and what is it?

I’m super controlling of activities.

In your opinion, what makes a person attractive?

Their personality.  A charismatic person steals the crowd anytime. I’ve battled with weight all of my life, but I’ve never had a problem with getting the exact hot guy I craved because I could always make them laugh, aroused, and happy all in one sitting.

What is the strangest food you’ve ever eaten?

Funny. I’m a foodie so I eat loads of things that many would consider strange. I’ve ate all of most animal’s organs roasted, baked, or boiled, except sexual organs. If I find a restaurant that specializes in roasted cow penis, I’ll be there with a fork and knife to check it out.

Would you rather have a classic 1969 convertible Mustang or have the use of a beach side condo any time you want?

Beach side condo!

And finally:

Would you rather survive an apocalyptic event (yes, even a zombie apocalypse) or die instantly without knowing what happened to your family and friends?


Thanks for being with us Kenya and all the best with sales for the new book.

 photo TheirsToPlay-Version1-HighResolution_zpse6429fa2.jpg
Add it to Goodreads
*For other ebook formats contact me

Two billionaire brothers enjoy twisted games where women are the sport. They find a female, date her, and compete to see who can bed her first. 

Too bad they picked the wrong one this time. Dawn's too smart for their verbal play and too quick to get trapped by clever ploys. 

The more the brothers work to capture her heart, the more they discover she might not be theirs to play.

Multi-genre Author


Kenya Wright always knew she would be famous since the ripe old age of six when she sang the Michael Jackson thriller song in her bathroom mirror. She's tried her hand at many things from enlisting in the Navy for six years as a Persian-Farsi linguist to being a nude model at an art university. 

However, writing has been the only constant love in her life. Will she succeed? Of course. 

For she has been coined The Urban Fantasy Queen, the Super Iconic Writer of this Age, The Lyrical Genius of Our Generation. Granted, these are all terms coined by her, within the private walls of her bathroom as she still sings the Michael Jackson thriller song.

Kenya Wright currently resides in Miami with her three amazing, overactive children, a supportive, gorgeous husband, and three cool black cats that refuse to stop sleeping on Kenya’s head at night.

For more information on Kenya's Blog tour visit writermarketing.co.uk 

Saturday, 7 December 2013

Cover Reveal - Switching Mercedes

I received the cover image for my next novel in the Wylde Shore Series this week. Switching Mercedes is Mercedes and Zane's story. For those who've read the first two books, Finding Angel and Playing Jax, hopefully you'll remember the two headstrong characters, Zane Reynolds and Mercedes Harris-Shore. Well, now it's time to heat up the pages of their own book, a romance that includes an interesting and sexy addition to the family, named Ash. Check out the blurb below for a hint at what to expect

How can two Dominant men and a Mistress have a successful BDSM relationship? It’s quite easy, providing one of them decides to submit.

Switching Mercedes Blurb.

Zane Reynolds believes he’s found the perfect submissive for his brother and him, but there’s a problem. Mistress Mercedes doesn't want to submit to anyone. Zane hopes a bet will solve that issue, along with providing the key to finally win, not only Mercedes submission, but also her heart.

Ash knows he's not a good man for a woman to fall in love with. He’s a paid mercenary, disillusioned with life and his ability to fit into the civilized world. His twin, Zane, insists he’s found the perfect woman for them to share, the problem is, Mercedes has no idea Ash exists.

Mercedes has more to worry about than a wager where she plays submissive to Zane for a week. She’s just become a serial killer’s new target and met the man assigned to protect her, Zane’s twin, Ash Reynolds. Ash appears as interested in her submission as Zane, but Mercedes isn't looking to be shared.

Switching Mercedes is due to release on January 1st, 2014, through Siren Publishing. Pre-order and buy links will be posted once available.

Friday, 22 November 2013

New Release Sneaky Peek - Faustina and the Barbarians by John McKeown

Rome wasn't built in a day but Faustina Maxima, antithesis of the passive Roman matron, can screw herself out of a threatening situation quicker than you can say, “Veni, vidi, vici!” This statuesque beauty, descendant of a famous emperor is a one-woman sexual killing machine that eats savage Goths and Saxons for breakfast—and is also partial to a Pict or two—while lunch, dinner and supper is any Roman who takes her fancy. Like any great general she's blessed with imagination, and open to every possibility for maximising pleasure. For, as she writes to her daughter-in-law Flavia, the lucky recipient of her mother-in-law's unblushing exploits among the barbarians, “what is life without ever fresh adventures?”

Warning: This title contains graphic language and is suitable for adults only.

'Faustina and the Barbarians' is a 21.000 words historical erotica novella

Published by ahotterstate.com


To: Flavia Maxima, Rome
From: Faustina Maxima, Amorgos, August 410

My darling daughter-in-law, what thrilling news! The Barbarians at the gates of Rome, at last. You and your friends are in for the time of your lives. I’m green with envy, exiled as ever on this barren Grecian rock with nothing but goats and wizened goat herders for company; not to mention that boring, obnoxious bag-of-bones, your father-in-law Flaccus. As soon as you hear Alaric’s Gothic cavalry pounding down the street, get outside and scream for attention.

I know you won’t do that, of course, but I hope this letter of mine will persuade you to stop being such a shrinking violet and have some fun with the gorgeous Goths before they’re completely Romanised. You really must make the most of them, my dear. All disrespect to my darling son, but you must be bored stiff in the bedroom. He’s just like his wimpish father; prefers a blowjob from a eunuch to fulfilling his conjugal duties.

Darling, in all earnestness, the Goths are just the influx of virility the women of Rome are crying out for. I speak, as always, from experience.

Twenty years ago, when the Goths first began seriously troubling our northern borders, Flaccus, appointed Legate by the Emperor Valentinian, was sent to keep an eye on them. I, of course, having the ear—and more vital organs—of His Imperial Majesty, was allowed to accompany him. I was a very excited twenty-year-old, who couldn’t wait to feast her eyes upon those blond giants from the far north.

When we arrived it was high summer, and the forests of Germania were steaming, and not just with fires from Barbarian encampments. Disguised as an officer, I rode with my valiant husband into the centre of the Chief’s camp to parlay. Darling, I simply couldn’t see what threat the Goths posed, for all their energy seemed to be spent in fucking their buxom-arsed women, and often each other, senseless. As we rode in, my saddle was damp with the sights we saw. They were fucking against trees, on the ground, and, one couple I remember, were shafting each other precariously balanced in the boughs of an oak. And what beauties they were! As Flaccus did his ‘fearsome Roman’ bit with Chief Athalaric, I let my eyes take in the tall blonds who surrounded our mounted embassy. Long blond hair turned to gold in the slanting rays of the sun, gemstone eyes set above rich, red mouths sculpted for kissing. And do you know, as I sat, looking as martial as I could, one of them met my eye and made a very provocative gesture with his closed fist. That night I lay in our tent stroking myself and feeling those strong fingers probing inside me.

I was well on the way to coming when I heard Delicia, my hand-maiden, scream. The curtains around my bed were torn back and there stood a gang of young Goths laughing, swords unsheathed.

“Oh Aphrodite, don’t let me wake up now,” I prayed as they gathered close, their eyes bulging with lust in the lamplight.

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About the Author

John McKeown is a British writer based in Dublin. He lived in Prague where he was a teacher and freelance journalist and part of the ex-pat literary scene in the 1990s, then moved to Ireland in 2000 becoming a columnist for the Irish Examiner, and arts feature writer for the Irish Times. He was theatre critic for the Irish Daily Mail from 2006 to 2008 and is currently reviewing theatre for the Irish Independent and UK online theatre magazine Exeunt while raising his daughter Julia. His erotic short stories have been published by Xcite Books in the UK, who have also recently published his first novella Gooseflesh Abbey. JMS Books in the US is publishing two other erotic novellas, also in 2013, Prague Memoir and The Time Sex Machine. In addition to erotica John has four collections of poetry in print, the last, Night Walk published by Salmon Press in Ireland (available from Dufour Editions in the US). He has also collaborated with Leo O’Kelly of Irish folk-rock duo Tir Na nOg, on an album of songs entitled Will released in 2011 on Life and Living Records in the UK.

Wednesday, 20 November 2013

New Release Sneaky Peek - The Exhibition by Grace Marshall


Successful NYC gallery owner, Stacie Emerson, is ex-fiancée to one Thorne brother and ex-wife to the other. Though the three have made peace, Ellison Thorne’s friend, wildlife photographer, Harris Walker, still doesn’t like her. When Stacie convinces Harris to exhibit his work for the opening of her new gallery she never intended to include him in her other more hazardous plans. But when those plans draw the attention of dangerous business tycoon, Terrance Jamison, Harris comes to her aid. In the shadow of a threat only Stacie understands, can she dare let Harris into her life and make room for love?

The Exhibition, is Book Three of The Executive Decisions Trilogy.

Available from:
eBook:  amazon.co.uk   amazon.com

 Print:    amazon.co.uk   amazon.com


She stood to put her pack back on, and he came to his feet and caught her by the shoulder, not wanting it to end like this, not wanting her to leave until they were good again. When she tried to push him away, he pressed her between his body and the stone of the cliff face. ‘You can’t just shut us all out, Stacie.’

‘I never wanted you involved in the first place. I never wanted any of you involved but you couldn’t leave it alone,’ she jerked back against him but there was no place to go. ‘You couldn’t just let it go.’

He moved in closer until his body pressed up against hers, holding her tightly against the stone. ‘No, I couldn’t, and I can’t and neither can anyone else who cares about you and neither would you if the situation were reversed. So whether you like it or not, I’m here to stay. We’ve already discussed this, so get used to it.’ He punctuated his point with a harsh kiss that couldn’t have been very pleasant for her, but then he was angry, worried, scared for her. Instead of shoving at him as he’d expected her to do, she curled a hard fist in his hair and ravaged his mouth with every bit as much ferocity as he had given her, pulling him still closer, rubbing her body against his, making him instantly and startlingly erect.

She snaked a hand down between them and savaged his fly until he feared for what lay beneath, until her fingers wriggled and dug their way into his walking trousers to possess his cock with a tight grip as though it were a weapon, one she were about to use to do serious damage.

He fumbled to return the favour, with her ripping at her own fly to make room for him, to guide his fingers down over her mons. Her eyes locked his in a devastating gaze that felt as though she could see right through him. ‘I need you to touch me there.’ Her voice was a breathless whisper. ‘Where I’m wet, where I’m open, where I’m always, always hungry for you.’ Her breath caught; her eyelids fluttered and she sucked her bottom lip as he found her cleft, wet and open as she’d promised. ‘You can’t tell me you don’t want to be like those cats.’ She guided his hand still further and manipulated it until first two, then three fingers pressed up into her. ‘You can’t tell me that when I present myself to you all hot and ready and begging for it, you don’t want to service my need. You can’t tell me you don’t want to get a little primal with that cock of yours.’ She gave him a hard squeeze and drove her hand up and down his length, thumbing the already abundant pre-cum over and around the tip until he gritted his teeth and held his breath while his hips bucked hard against her efforts.

He scissored her deep with three fingers and raked the silky slickness of her up and over her clitoris, and the sounds from the back of her throat easily resembled the sounds the female cougar made when the male mounted her. They wildly, madly fucked each other’s hands. The wind had risen and even on the clear morning, the chill left no doubt about lingering for more than the quickest of releases. Then she shifted, pressed her back hard against the stone and rested both of her hands on his shoulders. Before he could protest the removal of her fingers from his cock, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her still clothed crotch rubbing tight and insanely hot against his exposed cock as she began to rock and gyrate, and it was all happening way too fast.

‘Stacie I --’

‘Shut up, Harris,’ she spoke between chattering teeth. ‘I need to come, and so do you. You can fuck me properly when we get back to the SUV. It’s too damn cold to linger.’ With each sentence she ground against him, baring down with the extra leverage the cliff at her back afforded and, almost before the words were out of her mouth, she convulsed. Her spine stiffened and her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Harris could stand no more. He felt the eruption deep in his groin. It might have been embarrassing had the circumstances been different, but as he tried to cover himself, tried to hide the results of Stacie’s hard ride, she shoved his hand away, pushed him back and practically fell into the space between them positioning herself so that she caught his release, all of it in her mouth. What could he say to that? What could he do but hold her there, helplessly grunting the weight of his need into the back of her throat. It was an act as intimate and as primal as the cougars mating on the rocks minutes ago. And sex, any kind of sex, with Stacie Emerson was worlds apart from any other sexual experiences he’d ever had. As she stood and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, the look of hunger in her eyes, the promise of more sex to come in the SUV before the trip home couldn’t help but lighten the mood. As they straightened and tucked and donned their packs, he wondered if that was maybe why she did it. Whatever her reason, it definitely worked for him in ways he was still trying to get his head around. 

About Grace Marshall:

Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.

Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy published by Xcite Romance. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis and the final instalment of the trilogy, The Exhibition, are all now available at all your favourite book sellers with lots of romance and thrills served hot.

Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.

Find Grace Here: