Posted in Alpha Heroes, Excerpt, Historical Erotica, My Favorites, New Release, Regency, Romance, Totally Bound

The Duke’s Temptation by Raven McAllan

Duke

Tortured duke Gibb Alford has vowed never to love again… until a beautiful French knife thrower brings him to his knees

When Gibb Alford, Duke of Menteith, saves a beautiful French knife thrower from the unwanted attentions of a fellow aristocrat he is ill-prepared for the immediate tug of attraction to the beautiful Evangeline. Widowed, he has sworn off love forever, so he can well do without this temptation.

Evangeline certainly doesn’t want the complication of being in the sights of one smoky-eyed Scottish Duke. She’s a lady on a mission, with no time for love or dalliance.

However, fate and life have other plans and gradually Gibb and Evangeline become a couple.

As each struggle with the demons of their pasts, Evangeline finds life in the ton difficult. The spurned aristocrat Gibb saved her from, is not prepared to give in and retire gracefully. And while Gibb fights the man, he also declares war on his own emotions. When Evangeline’s past is revealed to her, everything changes. She has a decision to make.

Fight for Gibb—or flee to a safe but unfulfilled future.

As for her Duke… All is fair in love and war—right?

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Ohhh Raven, the arm twisting has begun yet again. Regency romance, as you all probably know, this is not a favorite catagory of mine. If it were anyone other than Raven, I probably would run off in the other direction, but somehow, Raven makes a subject that gives me hives more palatable. (Yes, that is a HUGE compliment!) I actually enjoyed this book, read it from cover to cover without stopping.

Our Hero in The Duke’s Temptation meets our heroine when she’s performing as a knife thrower. Evangeline is then attacked by a rogue jerk. Even though Gibb is there, she does quite well for herself. The two of them begin a friendship because Gibb is a widower who vows to never marry again. Because of the threat against Evangeline, Gibb sticks around, and they both have to fight the attraction they feel for one another. Will they stay in the friend zone? Or will friends become much more? Grab yourself a copy of the Duke’s Temptation and find out for yourself, you’ll be glad you did!!!

5stars

Amazon/Totally Bound

excerpt4

Whenever had a knife twirled so fast it became a vicious, glittering blur of metal?

Never.

Gibb Alford, the Duke of Menteith, had expected to be bored. Or on guard against any female who had somehow wangled her way into the spectacular. Or, although he devoutly hoped it wouldn’t be so, both. Not that any woman should be there, but he was by now much too cynical to expect what should be so to actually be thus.

What he also hadn’t envisaged was this unfamiliar tug of arousal directed toward the main act of the night. Who was a female, although he presumed an invited one. One who stirred his senses in a manner he’d almost forgotten.

Gibb didn’t do arousal. Not now. Or, he amended, he hadn’t. He stood on the terrace, amidst his peers but alone, a glass of the finest French brandy in his hand. In silence he watched the Chinese firecrackers and flaring sconces set around the lawn vie with the moon and stars for brightness, and willed his body to behave. Not for the first time he wondered what he was doing there. Why wasn’t he at home on his beloved Scottish estate? At times being a conscientious peer was annoying to say the least.

Someone bumped into him and apologized as Gibb scowled. He didn’t want his concentration spoiled, or his brandy spilled by an idiot like Algernon Follet.

As Follet swayed, Gibb held his goblet out of the way. Good brandy was not to be wasted. Gibb watched his fellow spectator stumble away, miss the fishpond by inches and lurch round a statue, before he ignored the man and instead turned his attention back to what was happening on the lawn. Only to tug at his suddenly too tight cravat because of what he once again saw in front of him.

In the middle of the perfect, manicured, luscious grass, a wooden platform had been erected in front of a large, plain white, thick canvas screen. Before it, the curvaceous raven-haired beauty who had attracted him minutes earlier stood with her arms outstretched, her crimson lips wide and an invitation to every man in the vicinity to stop, stare and give her their undivided attention. Dressed in something made of two-tone material, the like of which he’d never seen before, with hidden slits up each side, she presented a picture of contradictions. Gibb was sure she made each and every one of the audience imagine what the gown might or might not conceal.

The illusion of material not really there was very clever, Gibb mused. The flesh-colored silk that swung loose from her shoulders matched her skin, so he couldn’t see where skin finished and material began. The bodice fit snug around her generous breasts in such a way he had to wonder just how it stayed in place. Her lustrous hair swung loose over her shoulders in a riot of curls and sparkling jewels hung from her ears and around one ankle, just above one of a pair of sandals that from a distance appeared flimsy and delicate. In her left hand she held a wicked-looking knife—a stiletto, he noticed—now still and unmoving. Even so, it shone in the twinkling lights that surrounded her.

The last firecracker sizzled and died, and with just the flickering torches to light her, the woman bowed to the assembled men. “I need,” she said with a husky, seductive French accent, “a man.”

The howls and catcalls would have overwhelmed anyone without a strong determination. She waited, arms folded and with an amused look on her face, until there was once more silence. Then she raised one eyebrow. Even at the distance he was, Gibb realized the woman was toying with them. Teasing them about something they thought would happen and she knew would not.

To his annoyance, his body tightened even more. He did not want this reaction to an unknown woman. Hell, he didn’t want it with regards to anyone known to him either. Gibb Alford wanted no one to disturb his well-ordered life. The life where his mind never let him shy away from the sole thing that tore into him. His wife was dead and he was to blame. He was never going to be put in a similar position again.

Never.

The lady fixed her gaze on one of the men near to the front and beckoned to him in what some might call a seductive manner. Gibb chose to interpret it in a different way. Her body language showed nothing of seduction, except for that curled finger. Was it a come-hither gesture? He thought not. However, it worked. Young Lord Denby Crowe bowed in an extravagant manner and swaggered toward her.

God, Gibb mused, he felt old and jaded. Why could they not see the act for what it was? Entertainment, not innuendo. Why was he here? Because it was better than sitting alone in an empty house and wondering why it had all gone wrong. Here were no scheming mamas or desperate debs who saw him as a challenge or a poor wounded widower who needed a new wife. To his horror, not long before, a brazen and giggling chit had even accosted him outside the card room at one of the few soirees he’d felt compelled to attend and suggested he looked at her daughter.

No, no and no.

With an inward shudder of distaste at the memory, Gibb returned his attention to the vista in front of him and the very different woman in their midst.

“Take off your coat, my lord,” the woman said with a slow and throaty drawl to her… Her what? Victim? “Pass it to one of your colleagues so it does not get in the way.”

Crowe did so, smirked at his friends and stood with one leg bent in a suggestive manner before he put his hands to his cravat.

She shook her head. “Oh no, m’sieur, I would not do that. That is a good guard in case my aim is wrong.”

Lord Crowe stiffened and half turned. “Aim?” he croaked. “What aim?”

“Scared?” she taunted Crowe.

Am I the only one to see the derision in her eyes? Gibb wondered. To realize she held them, if not in contempt, damn near it.

“Are you worried that perhaps women do not have as good an eye as men?” the woman asked with a lilt of humor in her voice. “Or indeed that we are better?”

Denby flushed. “Not a bit,” he said tersely. “You’re a mere woman.”

“You think that means I will not hit where I intend?” She quirked one eyebrow and mocked him. “Oh dear. I suspect only time will tell.” The knife in her hand soared into the air, whirling almost lazily as it did so. It appeared as if she would cut her palm as she caught it.

Gibb gulped as she put her hand out and caught the stiletto without even looking. The insolence, the certainty she had nothing to worry about hit him like a cannon shot. A woman in command of her senses. Not someone to rely on a man, or demand attention. However, she had secured his. All of it. He couldn’t remember the last time anything had done that, let alone a woman.

Not even his wife.

From behind Gibb someone shouted out, “Women can’t aim and hit to save themselves with anything. Aim for his bollocks and hit his brain.”

She laughed and gave a gamine grin that to his surprise went straight to Gibb’s groin.

“As I am the exception to your absurd rule, that is exactly what would happen, for we all know where a man’s brain is located.” The amusement that followed was good-natured and she curtsied. “Let us begin. Sir, I hope you can assure me you will stay as I direct?”

Denby scowled and pointed his finger toward her. “What are you, anyway?”

Gibb had wondered when Denby was going to get around to asking that.

“Ah, that is a question many have asked,” she said in that husky throaty voice Gibb had noticed earlier, then laughed. “Wait and you’ll find out,” she advised him as she once more twirled the knife in her hands. Even from where he stood, Gibb could accept and admire her mastery of the weapon.

So it seemed could Denby Crowe, who was getting paler by the second. Gibb had an amused idea that the man might vomit or run. He hoped he didn’t as the spectacle unfolding on the lawn looked as if it was definitely going to be the highlight of the evening, if not his whole sojourn in the capital.

“My name is La Belle Evangeline,” the woman said in a slow and husky undertone. “Stand with your back to the screen, and then be careful you make no abrupt movement.”

All of a sudden Gibb understood what she was all about. Her stiletto was not for security or effect, it was part of her act. A knife-thrower. He’d seen one, once many years before, although then it had been a man holding the knife. Now it seemed there was a woman about to do the tricks and at one of his fellow members of the ton, not at a partner.

It could be interesting.

It was.

Gibb had no idea if it was the way she caressed the knife like a lover, or how she was in control of what happened that sent his body into an unexpected and uncomfortable state of arousal. Whichever, he wasn’t amused by his visceral reaction. He didn’t need it, didn’t want it and as sure as hell had no intention of acting on it. Danger for danger’s sake should not be and would not be in his present, or his future. If it were up to him, he would never be privy to emotions that arose from such a thing.

Or from anything else.

With that resolution firmly in his mind he willed his body into rest—he was not entirely successful—leaned back on a marble pillar and prepared to be entertained.

Denby Crowe stared wide-eyed and stood as rigid as the statuary dotted around the grounds. Gibb watched, entranced as La Belle Evangeline, with a grin he decided was best described as wicked, leaned toward the man.

“Do not worry,” she purred in a voice that curled around Gibb like hot chocolate. “I rarely miss.” She paused and contemplated the knife she held. Picked up another and spun it between her fingers. The blades seemed ten times longer than before and forty times as dangerous as they shone and glinted in the flickering lights. “And if I do it will be a very sudden death.” She waited for the beat of three as the crowd erupted into nervous laughter. “Not, alas, the little death, but one of greatness and finality. So I suggest, my lord, you do not deviate from my desires.”

Within seconds, knives were thrown toward Crowe from every direction. When the sultry knife-thrower told him to spread his legs and not to flinch, Gibb wouldn’t have been surprised to see him run. She was more than most men could control, and most would not attempt to.

He could. He wouldn’t.

To Denby’s credit he didn’t move—although it was more likely a result of sheer terror than bravery—and Gibb joined in with the applause as the last knife stuck, quivering, into the screen behind Crowe, a mere three or so inches from his bollocks.

Evangeline kissed her volunteer’s cheek and held his hand so they could bow together.

The audience cheered once more, resumed their chatter and began to wander back indoors, no doubt to replenish their glasses. Gibb had no intention of drinking anything else. He considered his duty done and therefore as soon as he could find his host he’d make his farewells and head home.

He watched with interest as, once Evangeline and Crowe disengaged, she slapped the man’s hand away from her breast. Whatever she hissed at him, and he was certain hissed was the correct word, Crowe wasn’t fazed and once more tried to touch her. The knife she held up appeared as if by magic and, amused, Gibb saw Crowe hold his hands in the air and walk away with a brisk step. It seemed La Belle Evangeline knew how to look after herself. Strange, Gibb mused, that his own erection didn’t diminish at the thought of her with a readily available knife. Was he unhinged or was it just the novel experience of desiring someone without wanting to? Complicated thoughts for so late at night. Whatever, it was all immaterial. He refused to let his uncomfortable arousal take charge. He would not be at the mercy of his vagarious body.

Gibb turned back toward the house and hunted for his host. Enough was enough. Time now to go home and ponder why his body had chosen to react to La Belle Evangeline and no one else since—

Stop it now. It is over and you do as you wish. And he did not wish for emotions to hold sway. Never again would he allow that, whatever they were. It led to anguish, tortured thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ and people hurt. He hadn’t been able—or cared enough—to curb his wife’s wild side, and she’d died because of it. Because of him.

Never again would he put himself in the position of being responsible for someone else’s happiness and wellbeing.

 Raven2Well what can I say?

I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

http://www.ravenmcallan.com

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https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallanandkerafaire            (author page)

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Duke

Posted in Contemporary Erotica, Menage, New Release, Novella, Romance, Totally Bound

A Very Private Performance by Ashe Barker

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One foolish mistake has cost her dearly—it will take a brave decision to put her back in pole position.

For the avoidance of doubt, please be informed that you are a pair of arrogant, self-serving sh*ts. Further, you are bigoted, self-righteous phonies.

Not exactly the best way to address the directors of the law firm if I want to hang on to my job, but I’ve had it up to here with James and Daniel Morgan. If they object so strongly to what I do in my spare time they shouldn’t snoop into my Facebook account. Not that any of this self-righteous indignation is going to help me. I’ve been fired.

So what are they thinking now? First James and Daniel have me dismissed, then they turn up as though nothing is wrong while I’m clearing out my desk and invite me out to lunch? What are they up to? And why am I even going with them?

They may be handsome as sin, the pair of them, and now that they know I’m a pole dancer in my spare time they seem to think I’ll sleep with them to keep my job.

Not that the idea doesn’t have its appeal, but they’re wrong. I have my standards too…and not the double standards these two seem to live by.

If I decide to give James and Daniel Morgan a very private performance it will be on my terms, not theirs.

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of double penetration.

Publisher’s Note: This book has previously been released as part of the Three’s A Charm anthology with Totally Bound Publishing.

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This was a fun and sexy little short from Ashe Barker, whom I’ve read before. I was intrigued by the book’s blurb, and who can resist a menage’? The plot is simple, we have law clerk Emily Santori who is not only working her job at Morgan Law, but she also works as a bartender at Hard Limits, a bar where she also pole danced.

The head of human resources has seen a video that Emily posted on her private Facebook page. She calls her into the office and summarily fires her. Emily is fuming, she has seen the big bosses, James and Daniel Morgan there on several occasions. She finds it rather hypocritical of them to fire her for something she does in her private time and shoots off a nasty e-mail telling them just what she thinks.Then, they read the email and decide to ask her out to lunch. They have a proposition for her.

I’ll let you get the book and find out what happens from here, needless to say, it was enjoyable, if not a bit short.But it was wonderfully well written with spicy, steamy sex scenes.

4 Stars

4starreview

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Posted in Alpha Heroes, Contemporary, Law Enforcement, Romantic Thriller, Series, Totally Bound

Hidden Prey by Cheyenne McCrey

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Blurb:

Danger

Tori Cox, a talented and sought-after musician, heads back to her roots to a small southwest town in Arizona as she flees an abusive relationship. When she arrives she witnesses the execution of a federal agent by the head of the Jimenez Cartel. The drug cartel kingpin orders his men to kill Tori before she can testify.

Desire

Landon Walker, a special agent with the Department of Homeland Security, rescues Tori from members of one of the most ruthless cartels in the world. He sets out to protect her, but soon protecting her isn’t enough. The fire between them makes him want her in a way that he’s never wanted another woman, despite his wounded heart.

Death

Diego Montego Jimenez will do everything in his power to kill Tori, the young American woman, who threatens his business and family. No one lives to testify against the Jimenez Cartel.

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and sexual assault.

Publisher’s Note: This book has been previously released elsewhere. It has been revised and re-edited for re-release with Totally Bound Publishing.

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Hidden Prey is the first in a new series by Cheyenne McCrey about a circle of friends and the spine-tingling suspense they all go through while finding love. I have to say that this kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time and there was no way I put this book down. I’m guessing you won’t either.

Landon Walker lost his fiancée 14 years ago and still blames himself. He works as a federal agent and likes his job. He’s visiting family when a woman comes running out of nowhere, terrified, with someone chasing her. He decides to help.

Tori Cox is a musician on the run from an abusive ex. But she sees something she shouldn’t and becomes a target. Landon saves her, but while on the run, secrets and lies could mean danger, especially for Tori.

An action packed, sexy love story that you’ll just suck up! A wonderful beginning to this series, and I can’t wait for the rest!

5 Sexy Suspenseful Stars!

5starreview

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Excerpt:

The nightmare had been so damned real. Landon Walker sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes bleary and his head aching like a mother. He had to stop trying to find peace at the bottom of a bottle of Jack D, because it only made him feel like hell the next morning. Didn’t matter what he did, because he didn’t think he’d ever have peace again.

His dream had replayed every last detail of that night when a hit-and-run drunk driver had sideswiped Landon’s motorcycle, sending Stacy flying and pinning him beneath the wreckage. A helmet and protective gear hadn’t been enough to save her. After he’d managed to get out from beneath the motorcycle, he’d crawled to her, dragging his shattered leg. He could still feel her broken body in his arms.

He ran his hand down his face, the stubble and scar along one cheekbone rough against his callused palm. Fourteen months to the day Stacy had died in the accident, an accident that had been his fault.

Would he ever stop marking time by the date of his fiancée’s death?

He turned his head to look at the alarm clock and winced from the pain the sudden movement caused. Damn. He’d be late if he didn’t get his ass out of bed. He didn’t work some punch-the-clock forty-hour workweek. But Mondays still sucked.

Early Monday mornings he used to play basketball with a bunch of guys who were in law enforcement. On Friday nights, those who weren’t working usually played poker. But after the accident, Landon had pulled away from everything but his job. He still worked out—sometimes excessively—in the fitness room in his home. Not only to stay fit but because the strenuous activity burned off excess anger at himself and sometimes at the world.

With his head still aching, he stepped under ice-cold water in the shower in an attempt to wake up. He braced his hand against the smooth white tiles, his head lowered, goosebumps prickling his skin when he let the water flow over him. He kept the water cold as he washed his hair and soaped his body. When he’d finished, he shut off the water and shook his head, droplets flying before he toweled himself off.

The cold shower had done its job and he felt marginally better by the time he pushed open the shower stall’s glass door. He might just make it through today after all. Last month had been the first month he hadn’t taken flowers to Stacy’s grave. For the first year, he’d visited once a month on the date of her death, but after a year, he’d made the decision to move on to save his sanity. Damned if he knew how.

After he’d dressed in jeans and a faded blue T-shirt, he jammed his Colt .45 into its holster on his belt. He slipped on a white overshirt to cover his weapon then stood in his kitchen and wolfed down a breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs. He stuck the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and headed out.

A light morning breeze slid over his skin when he climbed into his charcoal-gray Ford Explorer. He stuffed his key into the ignition and started the vehicle. He headed down the dirt road leaving his ranch and continued onto the paved road that would take him to Douglas.

He had just enough time to make it to the office and take care of a few things prior to heading to Bisbee to meet with his man who’d been working deep undercover. He’d make the twenty-five-mile drive from his ranch in Sulfur Springs Valley to Douglas and to DHS’s ICE office in twenty minutes.

Landon had served as a special agent with the Department of Homeland Security’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agency for eleven years now and had given himself completely to his career since Stacy’s death. He’d always been married to the job and he regretted not being there for Stacy more. Now he lived and breathed his work. What the hell else did he have? The job would take his soul one day and he didn’t plan to fight it.

At the office, he spent some time going over aspects of the case he’d been working for months. The Jimenez Cartel’s tentacles reached far from Mexico, into Arizona. When they chopped off one arm, another grew to replace it. The cartel had to be cut off at its head. No other way would stop or even slow the activities of the organization that dealt in drugs, death, destruction.

They had to get to Diego Montego Jimenez, known as El Demonio to everyone around him. The Demon. The nickname for the bastard fit him like a glove.

Landon headed out of the office in the early afternoon. On his way out, he saw Dylan Curtis, another DHS special agent and one of Landon’s good friends. At six-three, Dylan stood a good two inches taller than Landon. He wore a Stetson over his dark hair and his ice-blue eyes were appraising as always.

Dylan paused in front of the entrance. Landon stopped too. “When are you going to join the boys for basketball again?” Dylan mimed going up for a shot. “Had some good games this morning. You need to show up and get your ass back in it.”

Landon shrugged. He probably should—one more step toward returning to his life as it had been before.

“This leg isn’t what it used to be.” Landon rubbed his leg that had been shattered in the accident.

“Who gives a shit?” Dylan questioned. “Monday mornings, same time, same place as it’s always been. Bring the bum leg.”

Landon nodded. “I just might be there next Monday.”

“You’d better or I’m gonna kick your ass.” Dylan hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “And don’t forget poker this Friday night. It’s time you rejoined the living and you might as well go all in.”

Landon shook his head. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, my ass.” Dylan switched subjects as he asked, “On your way to meet Miguel?”

“Yep.” Landon nodded. “Any news on the delivery?”

“I’m hoping Miguel can give you a concrete time.” Dylan frowned. “All I have is what you do—it’s tomorrow, but no time or location.”

“I’m sure Miguel has it for us.” Landon reached for the door handle. “I’ll call you as soon as I get intel from him.”

Dylan gave a nod. “Tell the bastard hello for me.”

“Will do.” Landon pushed open the door and walked into the sunny afternoon toward his SUV before heading to Bisbee, a once-booming town nestled in the Mule Mountains.

His thoughts drifted like the occasional puffs of cottony clouds scattered across the brilliant blue summer sky. The grass along Highway 80 waved in the stiff breeze as he drove by. An unusual amount of rain had made everything greener than usual.

Once he reached the east-side town limits, he guided his vehicle around what the locals had called the traffic circle for decades. The roundabout let him out onto the road that took him on to Old Bisbee after he passed the Lavender Pit and the Copper Queen Mine. He headed to St. Patrick’s Catholic Church to meet with Miguel.

A replica of a church in Ireland, St. Pat’s had perched two hundred feet above the floor of Tombstone Canyon for nearly a century. Stained glass windows and marble filled the towering terracotta building. Beneath the soaring ceilings, Jesus Christ on the cross peered down on the congregation, as did the statues of the Virgin Mary and St. Patrick behind the altar.

The icons seemed to look down on him, judging him for his absence from the Church and for his abandonment of God. Hell, God had abandoned both him and Stacy when He’d let her die.

The cool, dim interior of the church smelled of incense and candlewax. The heavy double doors closed behind him as he passed the shallow well of holy water. He did not dip his fingers in the water or make the sign of the cross. He slid into the second to last pew in the back on the far right, so he could see the doors by turning his head slightly.

A tiny woman in black, wearing a white lace mantilla, kneeled in one pew, and an older man leaned against the back of the bench seat in another. The old man’s head tilted up so he could stare at the effigy of Christ. The man had a broken look about him, as if this church served as the only solace he would find in this world.

Landon mentally shook his head. Raised Catholic, he had pushed away from the Church once he’d gotten to see what a cruel world it could be. How could a good and just God allow evil men to kill or abuse women and children? Or to force them to serve as sex slaves? How had He allowed someone as sweet and good as Stacy to die as she had? Landon would have given his own life for hers.

Clenching his teeth, he took in the padded wood kneeler at his feet. The kneeler, currently in its upright position, would be lowered by parishioners to kneel on during service or while praying when they came into the church to worship.

For one wild moment he thought about getting down on his own knees and praying to a God he didn’t think he believed in any longer. He blew out a breath and ran his finger along a hymnal in the wooden rack in front of him. No, his days of praying were long gone.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and concentrated on the moment. He checked the time on his cell phone and saw he had arrived a few minutes early. He hoped Miguel wouldn’t be late. A devout Catholic, Miguel liked to meet at St. Pat’s where he felt closer to God.

Sometimes, as Landon left, Miguel would head to the confessionals at the front right. Landon had worked undercover many times and had been forced to commit sins he wished could be absolved by confessing to a priest.

Landon let his gaze drift over the almost empty pews, noting everything. From the moment he’d arrived, he’d been keenly aware of his surroundings and the double doors behind him. He didn’t like having his back to the doors, even though he could casually glance in that direction with his side vision. But if he wasn’t safe inside St. Pat’s, he didn’t know where he would be.

The old man got up from his seat and went to the front of the church, to the left of the altar, and lit one candle among rows of little red jarred candles. Some were lit but most were dark. Landon stared at the flickering candlelight for a moment, remembering himself as just a little boy. In the church he’d grown up in, he’d lit a candle and prayed to God with all he had to save his grandfather who’d been dying from cancer. The first disappointment of many to come, by a God who never seemed to answer his prayers.

The old man stood in front of the candles for a long moment before turning and walking beneath an archway between the walls and thick marble columns. Out of the corner of his eye, Landon watched the man leave, a large swathe of sunlight spilling into the church as he pushed one of the doors open. Then the heavy door eased back into place, leaving it dim again.

Landon checked his cell phone. Late. Miguel, normally punctual to the minute, had yet to arrive. Landon didn’t let his mind wander beyond his objective. If he did, he’d spend time dwelling on things that couldn’t be changed.

Time passed and Landon’s gut tightened. Even though Miguel hadn’t made it yet, Landon knew he shouldn’t be concerned. After all, he’d forged his way deep into the Jimenez Cartel. When El Demonio said, “Jump”, Miguel didn’t ask how high. He did what he had to do to remain embedded in the organization.

Landon’s phone vibrated a couple of times and he read the two short text messages then returned his phone to its holster on his belt. His mother, asking if he would be able to make it for Sunday dinner. One of his sisters, telling him not to let their mother down and to show up on Sundays more often.

He blew out his breath. His family had been pushing him for the past year to make it to get-togethers. He’d drawn away once Stacy had died. Maybe he’d grieved long enough. Knowing he should let go of the past and move on didn’t mean it would be easy.

Basketball and Sunday dinners would be a start.

Two more parishioners came in and out of the sanctum. The woman in the mantilla hadn’t moved since Landon had entered the church. She kept her head bowed in prayer and her white lace mantilla shadowed her face.

More time passed and the two parishioners who had come in thirty minutes prior lit candles before leaving. Landon checked his cell phone yet again and saw he’d been waiting for nearly an hour. The woman in the mantilla and Landon were now the only people left in the church.

Frowning, he got up from his pew and made his way outside, blinking when he walked into the late-afternoon sunlight. He stood at the top of the steps that went down on either side of him.

The fact that Miguel hadn’t shown up wasn’t anything to be too concerned about. Any number of things could have come up. Miguel wouldn’t call or text anyone at DHS, to ensure nothing could be found to tie him to law enforcement.

A hand with a vise-like grip clamped around Landon’s left wrist.

He went for his Colt instinctively as he pivoted before stopping abruptly.

It was the tiny veiled woman who had been in the church since he’d arrived.

He released his grip on the butt of his handgun and left it in its holster. How the hell had she snuck up on him?

The stooped, elderly Hispanic woman pushed the mantilla away from her cheeks and his gaze met small dark eyes nearly lost in a sea of wrinkles. She looked well over a hundred years old, older than his grandmother. Her face reminded him of a withered apple, but her eyes were bright and knowing.

“You will die if you tell her the truth. If you don’t tell her, she will die.” The woman spoke in a low, tremulous voice, in broken English, with a heavy Hispanic accent.

Despite the fact that he didn’t believe in crap like premonitions, chills rolled over Landon’s skin and he broke out in goosebumps for the second time that morning. He tried to jerk his arm away from the woman’s grip but she wouldn’t let him go and he didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her.

“Remember my words.” She released his arm and turned away.

While remaining completely aware of his surroundings, he watched her as she held on to the handrail and slowly walked down the steps. Her words echoed in his head no matter how he tried to force them out.

‘You will die if you tell her the truth. If you don’t tell her, she will die.’

He shook his head and a natural-born instinct to help the elderly had him realizing he should be helping the old woman down the stairs. But she’d already reached the last step when he came to his senses.

In a town where most houses were built on mountainsides, Landon wondered how someone so old and frail could navigate her way around the steep inclines that could give San Francisco a run for its money.

A black Mercedes pulled up in front of the church, answering his question. A newer model vehicle, it had dark-tinted windows and looked as if the owner had washed and waxed it this morning. A Hispanic man of about thirty, wearing a bright white button-up shirt and dark slacks, climbed out of the driver’s side and held the back passenger-side door open. He assisted the elderly woman as she slid into the vehicle and closed the door behind her.

The Mercedes was out of place in the small town of Bisbee, Arizona—Landon had never seen a vehicle matching it any of the times he’d been in town. He wondered who the woman was and if she owned the over-seventy-thousand-dollar car in a place where some houses could be bought for close to the same price.

He mentally noted the license plate number and jogged down the steps, heading to his Explorer. When he reached the vehicle, he climbed in and grabbed the electronic tablet he used for work, pulled up the app he needed, then put the plate number into the database.

The car was registered to a Juanita Salcido at an address farther up Tombstone Canyon. He saved the data. Maybe he didn’t need to, but the whole experience had been odd enough that he intended to hold on to the information.

He set down the tablet as he thought about Miguel. Likely he’d been held up, the situation being one where the agent didn’t have the ability or freedom to call without compromising himself and his cover.

A gut-deep sensation twisted Landon’s insides and he gritted his teeth. Like a blow to the solar plexus, a bad feeling struck him hard.

A real bad feeling.

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Posted in Alpha Heroes, BDSM, Coming Soon, Contemporary Erotica, Domination, Early Release, Preorders, Romantic Suspense, Series, Totally Bound

Catering to His Desires by Rose C Carole

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Blurb:

Mya believed she didn’t deserve love. Jake thought he could never love again. But a threat to Mya’s life galvanizes Jake’s protective instincts—and opens his heart.

Mya has finally escaped the slums she grew up in and made a life for herself as a chef in the Catered Affairs kitchen, but she has never been able to shed the feelings of inadequacy that were beaten into her by her abusive father. So she stays in the shadows, the quintessential voyeur at the Playground, the BDSM club she belongs to.

Jake is attracted to Mya’s beauty when he spies her across the dungeon at the Playground. But he’s only looking for a play partner for the evening. Ever since he lost his wife in a car crash, he hasn’t been able to commit to anyone again.

After a disastrous evening at the club, where Jake pushes Mya out of her comfort zone, it looks like Mya and Jake will not even be friends. But dangerous circumstances push them back together, and Mya must rely on Jake to keep her safe. When a stupid mistake puts her in terrible jeopardy, will Jake be able to come to her rescue in time?

Reader Advisory: This book contains descriptions of domestic abuse, violence and death. Kidnapping and captivity, and resultant trauma post kidnapping and captivity. References to alcoholism and abusive parenting. One scene of anal play/double penetration.

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Catering To His Desires is the second book in a series about a group of women who own and run a catering company. This book concentrates on chef Mya and Jake, the lawyer from book one who helped Rebecca’s man. Of course, I’ve come in on book two. (I’ll be grabbing book one though.) This is a completely standalone book, and I didn’t need any prior information to follow along.

I will admit, I came close to pulling the plug a couple of times because of Mya’s behavior. She sticks to the shadows of the BDSM club she’s a member of, gets jealous of her friend finding her Dom, then a hot, hunky Dom tries to scene with her and she freaks out.

Lucky for her, Jake seems to like her. But her behavior just keeps on going into the crapper when he takes her for coffee. Later, an old friend of hers ends up needing help she just can’t provide and she ends up having to call Jake. Mya has self-esteem problems from her upbringing, which accounts for most of her behavior.

When her friend’s situation becomes dangerous to her, she becomes much closer to Jake, but can he keep her safe?

I enjoyed the writing in this book as Ms Carole weaves an excellent tale. I’ll definitely be following the series, and I’m looking forward to the other ladies stories.

4 Kink-a-delic stars

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Book is in wide-release on May 2, 2017 but you can buy now on
Totally Bound
Pre-Order Links:

Amazon/Amazon UK/Kobo

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Posted in Anthology, BDSM, Contemporary Erotica, Domination, Romance, Totally Bound

His Domain Anthology

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‘The Prize’ by Ashe Barker

A night to remember…

When she shows up at the prestigious Vivant Club to claim her raffle prize of one month’s free membership Jessie Barnett doesn’t know what to expect. She’s trembling as she enters, but her inner submissive is dancing for joy, and nothing is going to stop her claiming what she has won.

Jessie is no stranger to the BDSM scene, but this is a new club, a new city, she knows no one and has no idea what to expect. That’s all right though, as it turns out the two powerful Doms who are hers for the evening have no doubt at all what they require from her – complete surrender, on her knees.

Jessie is happy to comply, this is what she came here in search of. But will one evening’s pleasure, however intense, however delightfully tinged with exquisite pain, be enough? Once she has submitted to them totally, will Mark and Greg see their business with her as having been concluded? Or is there more to be won, a greater prize, hovering just beyond her reach?

Reader Advisory: This story contains scenes of bondage, impact play, nipple clamping, spanking, caning, use of sex toys, anal play and double penetration.

‘Devious Tactics’ by Katy Swann

She’s been caught in his playroom. Should she leave or should she resort to devious tactics to get what she wants?

When Sami Jenkins is offered the chance to write a major scoop for her newspaper, she jumps at it. All she has to do is find proof that a successful businessman is a drug dealer. If she succeeds she will land a promotion that will secure her future as a top investigative journalist.

But Sami isn’t prepared for Jet’s powerful charisma when she meets him. As an ex Air Force fighter pilot, Jet is both commanding and charming, leaving Sami confused by her attraction to him. When she attends a party hosted by Jet on his lavish yacht, she sneaks off to search his office. Sami doesn’t find any evidence of drugs, but what she does stumble across leaves her speechless. She has inadvertently found Jet Whitely’s extravagant and very kinky playroom.

When Jet catches her he gives her a choice. Either he calls the police and she can explain to them what she was doing there, or she can stay and discover the delights that his playroom has to offer. But can she trust someone she suspects of being a criminal to tie her up and do unspeakably delicious things to her body?

Reader Advisory: This story contains scenes of BDSM including spanking, bondage and Dominance and submission.

‘An Intimate Friendship’ by Rosalie Stanton

A simple request. A single night. A relationship changed forever.

For Walker, embracing his nature as a Dominant was not easy, especially since it jeopardized his relationship with his best friend, Sasha. Though years have passed, he has not quite gotten over her initial rejection. His club, Escapade, is his solace—the one place where he can comfortably be himself.

The night Sasha went to Escapade to finalize a business partnership, she saw things that sparked in her a bone-deep hunger. Now Sasha believes she might be a sexual submissive, but she needs to know for certain before she embraces the lifestyle. And there is only one man she trusts to tie her up.

Walker has spent the past ten years trying to bury his feelings for Sasha, believing she could never fully accept him. When she asks him to be her guide in exploring his world, though, everything changes. He knows he can’t say no, but he goes in with reservations. She could reject him all over again in a way it would be impossible to recover from.

And if she doesn’t reject him, Walker knows a single night will never be enough.

‘Unconventional’ by Lucy Felthouse

Penny’s being punished for doing something stupid. But will her punishment turn out to be the best-ever reward?

Penny was caught out in the wrong place, at the wrong time. As a recently graduated law student, the brush with the law could put an end to her career before it’s even begun. But thanks to her lawyer daddy’s contacts, she’s been given a second chance. A chance to redeem herself and make her stupid behavior go away.

Which is how she ends up working in a soup kitchen, preparing and serving meals to those who are having a rough time of it. She’s not keen on the idea, and when she meets Maddox, the guy in charge, she’s even less keen. A tall, skinny, mad-haired, tattooed guy, Maddox is the sort of person Penny would normally cross the road to avoid. But once she gets to know him, she starts to see things differently. He’s had a checkered past himself, and has now put it behind him and enjoys a glittering, prosperous career as a top chef.

Maddox may have unconventional looks, but Penny quickly grows to like him, and, much to her surprise, finds herself attracted to him. He’s a lot older than her, and their lives are at completely different stages, but in spite of this, there’s an undeniable connection between them.

When Maddox makes Penny an unconventional offer, will she have the courage to take him up on it? And if she does, where will it lead?

Reader Advisory: This story contains scenes of sensation play and figging.

‘Maid’ by Anarie Brady

Alice, far from horrified by her new boss’ methods of discipline, embraces a new job, a new lifestyle and a new relationship.

Billionaire Vincent Vanderson holds his household staff to the same exacting standards that he holds himself. But when his newest maid, Miss Alice, responds so deliciously to her first discipline, his thoughts turn far more carnal then professional.

‘The Auction’ by Rose C. Carole

When David puts his sub Jenna up for auction, they both get more than they bargained for.

Jenna is unhappy that her Dom is putting her up for auction at their club event. But he isn’t exceeding her limits, so she has to do as he says. Watching the other participants offer themselves up and get bought increases Jenna’s confidence and as the evening goes on, she finds beauty in unexpected places.

Watching the scenes after the auction is over definitely excites her and her two Doms for the evening, so that by the time they have their own scene in the harem room, everyone is so turned on they can’t wait. After an intense experience, Jenna comes to realize that not only have she and her Dom connected in a way they hadn’t before, but they’ve learned a lot about each other that will help keep the fires alive in their relationship well into the future.

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This book is about as yummy of an anthology as I’ve read. The 6 ladies in this book are the tops in BDSM erotica and it shows. I’m not going to review each book, as they all were not only amazing, but I will be reviewing the individual stories on their own at a later date.

Having Lucy Felthouse, Ashe Barker, Katy Swann and Rosalie Stanton in one book is a huge treat for me. This is truly one for the keeper files, and the other authors are now also on my radar as well!

5 Multi-Orgasmic Orgasms

Totally Bound/Amazon/Amazon UK/Nook/iBooks

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Posted in Co-Presented With..., Contemporary Erotica, Romance, Totally Bound

Ultimatum (Dominion 1)

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It’s good to get back to the kink, and Ultimatum by Katy Swann didn’t disappoint! This is the first book of a new series called Dominion about a Hotel that becomes a BDSM club on weekends. I’ll admit I’m already a bit behind as the second book just came out, but that just gives me another book to read, lucky me.

Book one deals with a married couple whose marriage is on the rocks. Thanks to a tragedy and Frankie’s burying herself in business, her and Uber Dominant husband                                                                       nd Jake no longer indulge in the lifestyle. But Jake give’s her an ultimatum, go away with him for a romantic weekend or divorce. She decides to take him up on his offer and between him and his ex-rocker friend Marco, the owner of the club, they are on their way to fixing their marriage.

This  was an enjoyable book and I’m quite looking forward to the next book in the series, I give this 4 and a half orgasms for being so creative!    

four-half-stars    

Amazon/AmazonUK/TotallyBound  

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