Monday, 31 March 2014

#Interview with @marylougeorge2 (Mary Lou George) Saving Destiny @sirenbookstrand

Happy Monday, folks.... 

Yeah, I know, it's Monday, but, hey, look on the bright side. It's been a while since I interviewed an author on my blog, so without further ado, I give you the lovely Mary Lou George. She is here with her new release Saving Destiny.


Canadian Mary Lou George worked in the design studio of a major Art Museum for over twenty years.  The creative atmosphere there helped to keep her imagination fertile and her humor ever at the ready.  These days she concentrates on the art of romance.  Hailing from a long line of earth mothers and animal lovers, her home is filled with love and laughter.  Mary believes there’s a little bit of magic in each of us and working hard for the happy ending is always worth the effort.  She’s written 4 mainstream, paranormal romances and one mainstream mystery romance for Siren/Bookstrand.  Her sixth book, Saving Destiny (published February 2014) is the first straight up mainstream romance story she’s crafted.  The print edition will be available in June.

Q. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?

A. I’m an animal lover.  In my stories I’ll litter the floor with dead bodies, but the dog (cat, bunny, donkey, horse…) will always thrive.  I often wish books carried the reassuring line, “no animal is hurt in this novel”.  I’m a total sap and can’t stand it when an animal suffers.  I can’t shake it.  Humour is a life saving device for me so I try to inject the funny into most situations.  Feminism isn’t a dirty word to me.  I’m a feminist, but that certainly doesn’t mean I hate men.  I love men.  I have them for dinner often.  I just want our society to value women and their capabilities as much as men and theirs.       

Q. What made you write ‘this’ story?

A. Saving Destiny started out as a screenplay but it wasn’t long before I realized it wasn’t practical.  ‘Destiny’ is a beaten and abused horse in foal.  Not an easy sight to show an audience.  That kind of horror is much better left to our imagination, so I figured it was more suited to the novel format.
For hundreds of years there has been this incredible connection between the human race and the noble equine.  My sister has dedicated her life to horses, so I got a lot of input from her in this story.  A horse’s ability to heal us inspires and humbles me and I wanted to share that feeling.  Sloan and Mac join forces to save a fragile mare and through those efforts they find their way back to each other. 
I wanted to create characters who belonged together but were torn apart by tragedy. I hoped the reader would feel like there was no way these two people could love each other again and be overjoyed that alas, human beings are capable of amazing things when it comes to love. 

Q. Tell us about your cover.

A. Working for a museum producing fine art books made me a pretty harsh judge when it comes to covers.  Even as a reader, I’m not a big fan of the romance novel cover.  I’d rather rely on my imagination to determine what the characters look like, but that’s just not done in this business.  However, I think the designer did a pretty good job with this one.  The book is set in small town Kentucky, check, at a horse farm, check, in the summer, check.  I think the woman is particularly beautiful, the guy a little less so.  But that’s ok.  I find men more difficult to cast.  Isn’t that always the case?    

Q. Describe a typical day’s writing for us

A. I dress for comfort not style.  It’s not pretty.  My inner taskmaster makes a bargain, “Just turn on the computer, open the file and read the last thing you wrote.  That’s all I ask.”  It usually puts me in the mood to write.  I want to finish what I started, give my heroes their happiness and my villains their crushing defeat.  Once on a roll I’m hard to stop.  I lose all track of time, write for twelve hours straight and have to force myself to stop long enough to tend to my responsibilities.  Experience has taught me that it’s best to write for a maximum of seven hours.  Around then my eyes start to blur, my stomach growls and my children-of-another-species get antsy, so it’s time to stop anyway.  I’m always convinced that tomorrow will be different and I’ll be eager to start.  But as each new day dawns I’m plagued with the same doubts.  Can I do it?  What if my imagination’s dried up?  I suck! 
When I started out, the writing thing was easier.  My ideas were diamonds and everything I wrote was gold.  I know better now.  It’s ego bashing, heart breaking, hard work.  But I can’t help myself.

Q. What inspires you?

A.People and the wonderful and terrible things we do to each other and the other creatures on this planet.  I want to right all the wrongs and make the world fair.  In my books I can do that.    

Q. If you weren’t a writer what would you be?

A. Frustrated and not fun to be around.

Q. Do your characters ever surprise you?

A. No!  I’m the boss.  But sometimes I surprise myself.  I can end up delving deeper into a character than I initially intended becoming more interested in their journey.  Maybe that character then warrants a larger role or even a story of their own.  But I’m still the boss, I tell you!   

Q. What could you not do without when you’re writing?

A. My computer.  Sorry, I wish I had a more whimsical answer.  I’m left-handed.  The physical act of writing has never brought me pleasure and the results are dubious at best.  I have the handwriting of a serial killer.  With a computer, my fingers can almost keep up with my thoughts, my writing is always legible and I’m not mistaken for a menace to society.

Q. What words of wisdom do you have for the aspiring authors out there?

A. The only way to guarantee failure is to give up.  Your words are not gold.  The editor is your friend.  Each sentence matters and needs to contribute something to the story.

Q. Where do you see yourself in ten year’s time?

A. Doing the same thing but with a lot more money…and maybe a pig.

Q. Do you have a favourite quote?

“Compassion for animals is intimately connected with goodness of character; and it may be confidently asserted that he who is cruel to animals cannot be a good man” – Arthur Schopenhauer

Q. Do you ever suffer from writer’s block?

A. No.  I suffer from laziness and crippling doubt.

Q. What other books can your readers look forward to?
A. I’ve just finished the fourth book in my New Crescent Series.  It’s a paranormal story filled with malignant shadows, meddlesome ghosts, and all kinds of strange goings on.  It’s stewing in its own juices right now.  I’ll get back to it for some polishing, but in the meantime I’m plotting out a story with older main characters.  Teresa has wasted too much time thinking someone better would come along and Elliot’s wife has declared she’s a lesbian and left him.  They knew each other in high school.  He had a big crush on her, but she just liked him “as a friend”.  The tables are about to turn turn.  I’m also jotting down notes for a novel featuring characters from Saving Destiny.  I was so pleased when my editor commented, “I love Erick!” because he’s the lucky hero.

Q. And finally can you share the blurb and excerpt with us?

Sloan Ridgeway and Mac Watson's fairy tale ended in tragically-ever-after. For years they've been separated by the grief and guilt surrounding his little sister's death. Devastated, Sloan traded small-town Kentucky for star studded big cities and tabloid fame, but life in the limelight was filled with emptiness and betrayal.
When one more highly publicized broken engagement sends Sloan home to lick her wounds she comes face-to-face with Mac. He obviously hasn't forgotten the past, but despite his antagonism, he's more compelling than ever. To save herself the heartbreak, Sloan vows to keep out of his way, but destiny won't let her. Desperate to rescue an abused horse in foal, Sloan is forced to enlist Mac's help.
Working together day after day begins to reignite the passion they once felt for each other. But is passion enough? Can Sloan and Mac breathe new life into their malnourished hearts and prove that true love trumps tragedy every time?

“Mac?” She’d barely finished uttering the question in his name when his hand cupped the back of her neck and his lips came crashing down on hers. She struggled against him at first, knowing it was frustration and anger that had instigated the kiss. But it took only a moment for Mac to ignite the heat in her own blood and suddenly it no longer mattered to her what had precipitated the contact. All that mattered was what fueled it—passion. She welcomed it, with a cherry on top.
Despite the violence of his emotions, Mac still managed to kiss with finesse and she opened to him like a flower to the sun. He held her so tight she felt her bones might crack, but somehow he knew just how far to go without actually hurting her. She reveled in his touch and gave as good as she got. He pulled back slightly and she took the opportunity to suck his bottom lip into her mouth. It was Mac who’d taught her the art of kissing and in the intervening years she’d expanded on that knowledge. He moaned. Clawing at his chest, trying to get her hands on more of him, Sloan groaned with frustration. Reading her mind and coming to her rescue, he tore at his shirt, exposing his bare chest. Not satisfied with his nakedness alone, he pulled her T-shirt up over her bra and with adept hands freed her sensitive breasts. Glorying in the feel of his skin, Sloan rubbed herself against him over and over again. His hands dove into her hair and yanked her head back. He used his mouth, his tongue, and his teeth to worship the length of her arched neck and the softness of her breasts, making her tremble and moan.
“Oh God, Sloan, I want…so bad…I could hurt you right now,” he said between gritted teeth.
She heard his words over the pounding of her pulse and the roaring want in her ears. “You won’t,” she moaned.
Sloan could feel the hard length of his arousal as he drove his hips against hers and her hand flew to his crotch stroking his huge hardness with firm, sure strokes. He rose up and ground against her, pushing her back in the seat. His hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans and she said a silent word of thanks to the person who decided to put just a touch of spandex in denim. Like some sharp shooter, with unerring accuracy, Mac found just the right spot and touched her very core. His fingers were quick, thorough, and oh so clever. This was the man who’d known her more intimately than anyone. Years ago, he’d taught her how it was done. No one did it better and within moments Sloan felt that urgent sweet rush, climbing higher ever higher until she broke into tiny breathless fragments, throbbing, crying out his name. But for Sloan and Mac one release wasn’t enough. He’d always been able to make her climax over and over again with just the right pressure and movement of his fingers. He obliterated every other man in her experience. Lost in each other, place and time meant nothing to either of them. She wanted him inside her and knew he wanted to be there. She tugged at the button on his pants and he grunted.
The honking of a car horn snapped them out of their passionate oblivion. Somehow moving with lightning-quick speed, Mac protected her from prying eyes. In that split second’s distraction, their moment of sexual insanity was lost, gone forever. Pushing her away, as if he’d been burned, he rebuttoned his pants. He sat frozen for what felt like a long time, but must have been only seconds. Finally, he heaved a huge sigh. Turning his head, he watched as she finished setting her clothing to rights.
He ran a shaking hand through his hair, but as usual managed to avoid smoothing it. His expression wasn’t kind. “What the hell were you thinking? You shouldn’t have touched me.” His eyes still held a raging storm as they scanned her face. “Damn you, Sloan, I almost lost control. You should have stopped me. A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed. I could have hurt you. I’ve never hurt a woman in my life. That’s as close as I ever want to get.”

Thanks so much for sharing your story with us, Mary Lou. Please let us know where we can find you.

In my blog on my website I don’t just discuss writing and my books.  I offer up opinions and observations on a variety of subjects, from Scooby Doo and tattoos to skinny jeans and three legged cats.  I have a tendency to tweet about television shows a great deal, but always with a sense of humour unless something has really moved me then you’ll notice some passion.

Twitter  @marylougeorge2

Sunday, 30 March 2014

#SexySnippets from Auctioned to Protect (The Spectrum Auctions,2) @sirenbookstrand #BDSM

Happy Sunday, all and if you're in the UK, Happy Mother's Day!

I thought I would bring you one last seven sentences from Auctioned to Protect. You'll find Scarlett fighting for her life and Mike frantic to save her...

...manic laughter rang in her ears, seconds before an explosion rocked the flat and the air filled with shouts and screams. The pop of gunfire deafened her, and from far way she heard Mike’s beloved voice.
“Jesus, baby, hold on. Don’t you dare die on me, do you hear me?”
The most agonizing pain yet took her breath away, as someone applied pressure to the inside of her thigh, and tears filled her eyes.
I never got to tell him that I loved him.
“Scarlett, My Lady, don’t you fucking leave me.”

[Siren Allure: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, voyeurism, shibari, cropping, knife play, sex toys, HEA]

Tough undercover cop Mike Anderson does not submit to anyone, let alone a pint-size bundle of curves with a Mistress complex, who stands for everything he despises about BDSM. Thrown into a world where the rules make no sense to him, he has to rely on his instincts, and they all scream one thing—submit to His Lady.

Scarlett Simpson is one of the most feared Mistresses at Club Spectrum, and she has a score to settle. Mike's atrocious behavior needs addressing. If only she wasn't so attracted to the big hunk of a man, and he didn't prove so utterly responsive. As she explores his boundaries through Shibari and knife play, Scarlett can't help but get emotionally involved.

Submission freely given is a gift she treasures, but can she trust Mike to stay around once the case is over? When danger comes knocking, will Mike be able to protect her, or will this end in tragedy?

Note: This book contains a heroine who is a domme.

Available now from Bookstrand


Do check out the other Authors participating today, and why not join us next week? Sexy Snippets are seven sexy sentences taken from a work in progress or published work.

Friday, 28 March 2014

Flash Fiction Friday - Acceptance #FFF

Happy Friday, folks. Enjoy today's flash - Acceptance...

To see the picture inspiration, please click here.

They looked as one, locked in their passionate embrace on the beach, their muscular bodies an artist's dream of valleys, shadows, and textures.
Ariana kept watch from her watery hiding place.

Many came to this beach, but these two drew her to the surface every time, and this time she was ready. This time, she too would walk on the sands of grain that covered their muscular bodies. She took one last deep breath and leapt out of the water. The splash alerted the lovers and time stood still, as she waited, waited for their acceptance, or her inevitable death.


Friday Flashers have 100 words to tell a story from the provided picture prompt. Do check out the other flashers. You won't be disappointed. :-)
Till next week, folks.

D x  

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Athol is here with a #giveaway. A Dom's Decision #mm #newrelease @RavenMcAllan #bdsm @evernightpub

As the title says. Athol is here! I've been on #TeamAthol ever since we first him in Master, and I'm terribly excited to have the man himself on my blog today. Not only that, he comes with gifts. Read on to find out more about his story, and how you could win an e-book.

So without further ado, I give you Athol from A Dom's Decision. Have at it, Sir.


So Doris very kindly offered Raven a chance to let me loose on her blog. I'm not sure if she's brave or foolhardy. I mean evidently I'm not known for my tact.
howls of laughter .
I'm sure I've no idea why people think that. I'm a pussy cat. Okay maybe not. But just because I don't suffer fools gladly there's no reason to say I can be untactful.
And maybe one of the reason I don't suffer fools is because I was one.
Oh yeah was I ever. And for far too long. The awful thing about it all is, I almost threw away the one thing that means more to me in this world than anything. Edan's love.

Now then, that doesn't mean he wants me, or my love for him does it? After all considering all the crap that's flying around, why should he? But there again, Edan is special and can rise above stuff like that. So…

A Dom's Decision is our story. Okay it's subtitled Athol's Story, but really it about both of us. But as ever there are lots of things you never find out. Edan and I decided to let you know a little bit about ourselves. But we did it a wee bit different. He's telling you five things about me you might not know and I'm dishing the dirt on him snigger
Great fun.

So Athol on Edan…

He loves Anchovies shudder I make him wash his mouth out after he's eaten them.
Edan was his Primary School shove ha'penny champion.
He can write with a pencil between his toes.
He speaks Esperanto. I know, I mean does anyone else speak that these days?
He has a mole somewhere very interesting…
Oh and one for free. He's the love of my life.

Okay enough now. This is Edan dishing the deets on Athol.
He can't sing in tune. Seriously never go to a karaoke with him, because he so doesn't accept that he sounds like a frog.
He can't grow a beard. It grows in patchy.
Athol loves the smell of tar. We even spent one afternoon just watching some guys tar the road so he could sniff it. I'm sure they thought we were stalkers or something.
His temper was legendary at uni. Talk about flash point central. But it was always short lived. Well until we both spat the dummy out.
He's the most funny, generous person I know.

So here's the blurb for our story.

When is a Dom not a Dom? When it stops him from being with the man he loves…
Athol Donaldson lost many people in his life, his lover, his family, his twin. The latter loss seems hardly worth morning over. Affric caused nothing but trouble when alive, and now, he seems intent on causing trouble from beyond the grave.
It forces Athol to seek out the one man he's never forgotten.
Eden Murdoch has no intention of letting Athol slip through his fingers again. He's lost him once, and as they're forced to pull together to unravel the mystery surrounding the parentage of a teenage girl, their love for each other blossoms.
Surely, being Doms doesn't mean they can't compromise? Will they be able to work out their differences, and find lasting happiness, or will this blast from the past prove to be their final undoing?
And a wee tease…
Edan swallowed as his throat closed up at the sight of Athol playing with his prick. He coughed and Athol looked up and grinned at him. An expression of wicked, evil, and dare you showed in Athol's eyes.
"See? A few hours in your company and Sir Richard is stirring."
"Sir Richard would stir if a gay sparrow twittered at him," Edan said as he put two glasses and a bottle of South African red wine on the coffee table. "Shiraz?"
"Please. And for your information, not a gay sparrow, sweetie. At least a gay cock. Get your bird correct, now."
Edan laughed. Athol had always been able to poke fun at himself. "Bird or bloke?" Edan asked Athol as he twisted the closure off the bottle and poured two glasses.
"Him, her, who knows, and cheers." Athol took a glass and clinked it to Edan's.
"Her?" Edan was dismayed at the dull throb of pain that hit him.
"Now did I say that?' Athol put his glass on the table and stood up until his face touched Edan's. The sweet scent of wine and Athol swirled around Edan, and his own cock perked up.
Athol leaned forward and his tongue stroked across Edan's lips. Edan sighed and opened them, ready to welcome the thrust of Athol's tongue. It didn't happen. With only a couple of gentle touches, Athol pulled back and stared at Edan.
"Well, we could, but who gets first dibs on the fuck fest, and who puts up and shuts up like a good little sub?" Athol's expression was contemplative, almost sad, and Edan sighed again.
"Yeah, we're probably the most unforgiving, most incompatible people, most unlikely couple on the planet, and yet we, well I anyway, want nothing more than to screw you senseless. Why the fuck can't we switch with each other?" Try as he might Edan couldn't inject a positive note into his tone.
"Now Einstein, if we knew how to answer that and sort it, you'd've not disappeared down south to do whatever, and I'd've not spent the last however many years trying to prove I didn't need you." Athol shrugged his shoulders. The movement made every muscle in his torso ripple.
 Argh, pre-cum inducing heat.
"True enough. And it was lecturing in Hong Kong, not disappearing down south." Edan took in Athol's shocked expression. "Didn't you know?"
Athol shook his head. "Nah, I'd got you at some obscure ex-poly in the Midlands. Guess I screwed that line of investigation up good and proper."
Edan sat down on the settee and pulled Athol to sit next to him. "I hid my tracks well, like an animal going away to lick his wounds. What else did you screw," he paused, "up?"
Athol grinned, some of his usual upbeat mood showing. "Up, down, or like a rabbit? Ah, Ede, not much to be honest. Of any shape, form or sex."
Bastard. He always had known how to get Edan riled up. It was no wonder they could never come to terms over who did what to whom, how and when.
You know we first met Athol in Master?

Anna ignored him. It was up to Linsey to sort all that out. She stalked around her desk and glared at him, as he stood unmoving next to her chair.
"Excuse me." She waited until he took a step back and opened a drawer. Anna handed a sheaf of papers and a pen to him and moved away. "Use my desk," she said. "I won't need it any longer." She looked at Linsey, who gave a faint shrug, as if to say there wasn't anything she could do. Anna didn't believe that for one minute. "Where's Athol?" she asked, as she realized there was nothing else she could say or do to dissuade Caden from his chosen plan. "He's late."
"I'm here, sweet thing." Athol walked across the room and enveloped her in his usual effusive bear hug. "I had to sort out some dickhead who thought I would turn a trick for a tenner. Cheapskate. I told him not for a thousand, I have my standards." He roared with laughter, a deep belly laugh so at odds with his persona. "Oh and who's this?" He looked Cade up and down.

He loves stirring it.
(I do not, it comes to me naturally.)
 So, if you fancy learning more about Athol re The Dom's Decision, or indeed about Dommisimma, here's your chance.

I have an ecopy of either Master, or The Girl on the Bus to give away. But because (according to my kids when they were little) I'm cruel and heartless, I'm going to ask you to answer a question. Well two questions actually.
What country is Dommisimma set in?
What do you like about the cover of A Dom's Decision (Athol's Story)
Happy Reading,
Love  R x


Amazon UK  Amazon US  Evernight


Wednesday, 26 March 2014

#MWTease with @writinghonor Patty's Homecoming #newrelease @sirenbookstrand #menage #cowboys

These weeks sure whizz by, don't they? It's time to tease you all again courtesy of our awesome Host Sandra Bunino, and it gives me great pleasure to give the stage to my pub sister Honor James.

It's release day today for her!

*throws confetti*

So, without further ado I'll let her tease you with an excerpt from Pattys Homecoming.


The sound of a door slamming was closely followed by loud curses of a creative, if inaccurate, nature. Lifting his head up from the books he’d been semi-diligently going over, Daniel peeked out the window. What he saw was one of his hands, half-dressed, arguing with Constantine, his housekeeper.

Rolling his chair closer to the window, he cracked it open. He didn’t need to, the whole house had air conditioning. Nope, he was being a nosy old man and cracked it to eavesdrop. Not that he was old. He was only sixty and still going strong. He’d had a great life, an even better one with his beloved wife Charlotte, God rest her soul. She’d given him thirty-five years of marriage, love, and the best sex of his life. She’d also given him every single one of his gray hairs, two sons and a daughter.

Connor worked the farm and, one day, would take over for him. Brendan was a lawyer in Great Falls and handled all the legal matters for the farm, not that there were a lot, but it was a business. And his baby, Patricia, was in New York working for an interior designer and one day, God willing, would go out on her own. In the meantime she was living life, enjoying her career and called him every weekend to chat a mile a minute. Just like her mama used to do whenever she was excited, or pissed off. Chuckling, he shook his head. That girl could talk the ear off of anyone and try the patience of even the Pope himself.

“I’ve told you a dozen times Constantine, and I’m sorry I have to apparently declare it to the whole damned world, but I’m not interested,” Blake, the half-dressed hand, said in a loud tone. Daniel’s attention was dragged back to the goings-on outside the window.

“That’s not what Trevor said,” the woman shrieked. “Do you think I would be there if you hadn’t apparently been pining for me?”

“Pining!” Daniel winced. He hadn’t known that Blake’s voice could go that high or that loud. “Woman, I have never nor will I ever pine for a woman. Especially you, Constantine Delgado. You are a busybody and way too much maintenance. And if I ever, ever catch you trying to jump me while I’m in my rack sleeping again, I will personally kick your ass out of Montana one step at a time.”

The woman shrieked at the top of her lungs, pure frustration there, Daniel thought. His next thought was he would be needing a new housekeeper. And he was spot-on with that assessment, especially given her next words. “Don’t fucking bother you degenerate! I quit!” she screamed. With that volume, Daniel was pretty sure all of Montana knew she’d just quit.

“Good!” Blake sneered right back at her. “I pity the next fool that dares to take you on. I only pray that he’s got a wife that puts you in your fucking place.”

Another shriek and Constantine was storming toward the house. Eyes going wide, Daniel shut the window and rolled his chair back into place just in time for the front door to smack the siding. Wincing, he turned his attention to the books as she went to her room. More banging, door slamming, and a lot of swearing.

One of the problems with having a single woman on the farm was that the men tended to forget about her sex when they were working and let loose with some creative language. Not that he normally minded. The only time he enforced it with the hands was when Patricia came home to visit. ’Course, most of the lads thought of her as a baby sister, so that helped keep the cursing to a minimum. Not that he was fool enough to believe his baby girl couldn’t out-swear them all. She could. He was just in denial and would remain so until the day he left his farm and went to meet up with his Charlotte in the hereafter.

His head came up as he realized that silence reigned in the house all of a sudden. Oops, thought it too soon. A door slammed and angry steps stomped toward his office. Pasting on a bland expression, he looked up. “Constantine, uh, are you going somewhere?” he asked. Okay, an Academy Award was not in his future, but she was too pissed off to notice.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graymont, I can’t work here any longer. I quit,” she said, slamming her suitcase to the floor.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Constantine. May I ask why?” He tipped his head and hoped he looked confused and slightly curious.

“It’s got nothing to do with you, sir. It’s…” she waved a hand viciously if vaguely about. “It’s them! Those no-good, vile men!” she hissed.

Fighting a chuckle, he nodded slowly. “Well, I’m sad to see you go, Constantine. But you have to do whatever is right for you, dear.” He grabbed his checkbook and wrote her out a check for her last pay plus a little extra. Passing it to her, he sighed, “If you need references, you have them call me. You did great work while you were here and I’m going to make sure they know that.”

She folded the check, stuffed it into her purse and hefted her suitcase. “Thank you, Mr. Graymont. I am sorry to leave you in the lurch like this.”

“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll make do.” He waved her off. “Drive safe now and if you need anything, let me know.”

A stiff nod was her only answer as she spun away. The door slammed behind her and he turned to watch her march to her car. The finger she threw toward the bunkhouse was telling—immature, but very telling. So were the spinning tires and gravel kicked up behind her as she tore up the drive toward the main road.

“Wow, that girl is mad,” he muttered, reaching for the phone. Hitting a number on speed dial, he grinned when his buddy at the Mission Post picked up. “Morty, how’s it going? Good, good. Nah, usual shit and lots of it, given what I’ve got out in the north forty. Listen, I need you to run my ad for a housekeeper. Yup, she thought she’d get into one of the lads’ pants and he told her otherwise. I know, damn women are just too pushy. A little subtlety goes a hell of a lot further. Yup, sounds good. I’ll drop the check off tomorrow when I’m in getting supplies. What? Yeah,” he chuckled. “We can grab a beer. Let’s say around four if that works for you. Sounds good, see you then Mort.”

[Ménage Amour: Erotic Cowboy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]
Trouble is following Patricia Graymont home. But she needs somewhere to hide for a while, to sort through everything that’s happened, and as the saying goes, there really is no place like home. The only problem is having to face the two men she still loves and once left behind.
Blake Jacobson and Corbin Franks have worked on the Graymont Ranch for as many years as they can remember. They have a love for the land and the work they do is to keep it as natural as possible. They also both love the owner’s daughter, but once upon a time, they had to let her go to become the woman they always knew she could be.
Her homecoming was everything Patty could hope for, and more. Already feeling a little raw emotionally, seeing Blake and Corbin again was like a healing balm to her soul. Now, all they have to do is survive the coming storm.
A Siren Erotic Romance


Do check out the other fabulous authors teasing you today. 

Have a great day!

D xx

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

#TantalizingTuesdays - Taken

Another Tuesday, another tease. Enjoy - Taken...

(Source: Tumblr)

Stripped of all her defenses, gagged, and bound, she waited in the room she had been taken to. Fear warred with arousal so intense the lace of her panties was soaked through with her feminine juices. The rational part of her, the one that desperately wanted to conform to what society expected of her, screamed at her to struggle, to try and escape. This was wrong, perverted even, but from the moment she'd actually admitted this deepest, darkest fantasy she'd been consumed with the need to make it reality. 
He'd been there at the munch she'd attended.
Tall, dark, mysterious, with a voice that dripped over her senses like molten chocolate.
"It can be arranged, you know."
Those six words, uttered in his deeply compelling voice had been all it took.
Here, now, at the club, fantasy was becoming reality.
She hadn't caught the identity of the masked men who'd grabbed her and taken her to this room, but she would have recognized his voice anywhere.
She jumped at the flick of the knife, too loud in the quiet room, and with every careful slice her clothes fell away until only her panties remained.

"You're all mine now, little one."

Tantalizing Tuesday Authors use a photo prompt to tease in 200 words. Please click on the graphic to check out the other fabulous participating authors.

As ever, let me know what you thought of my teaser today. 

D xx 

Sunday, 23 March 2014

#SexySnippets from Auctioned to Protect (The Spectrum Auctions,2) #bdsm @sirenbookstrand

Happy Sunday, folks. It's that time again. Time to tease you with just seven sentences.

Dommes can get a bad rep, and Mistress Scarlett has a fearsome reputation, but underneath it all, she's a woman first and foremost, a woman who's just had a terrible shock.

Lucky for her, Mike is there to take care of her, when she needs him to simply hold her.... all night...

“No?” he asked.
“No, please stay with me and hold me. With you here, I might stand a chance of falling asleep.”
She didn’t look at him, but the way she bit her lip and her hands trembled told him all he needed to know. His brave little Lady was frightened out of her wits, so he did the only thing he could do.
He kissed her hand.
“Your wish is my command, My Lady.”

[Siren Allure: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, voyeurism, shibari, cropping, knife play, sex toys, HEA]

Tough undercover cop Mike Anderson does not submit to anyone, let alone a pint-size bundle of curves with a Mistress complex, who stands for everything he despises about BDSM. Thrown into a world where the rules make no sense to him, he has to rely on his instincts, and they all scream one thing—submit to His Lady.

Scarlett Simpson is one of the most feared Mistresses at Club Spectrum, and she has a score to settle. Mike's atrocious behavior needs addressing. If only she wasn't so attracted to the big hunk of a man, and he didn't prove so utterly responsive. As she explores his boundaries through Shibari and knife play, Scarlett can't help but get emotionally involved.

Submission freely given is a gift she treasures, but can she trust Mike to stay around once the case is over? When danger comes knocking, will Mike be able to protect her, or will this end in tragedy?

Note: This book contains a heroine who is a domme.

Available now from Bookstrand


Do check out the other Authors participating today, and why not join us next week? Sexy Snippets are seven sexy sentences taken from a work in progress or published work.