​He has to have her before his lust consumes him.

All George wants is one night with the enchanting Vera Cross. She is the reason and the answer to his tormented dreams. One touch, one kiss, one sigh from her foxy lips, and the hungry beast burning within will give her everything she desires. But as his dreams become reality, George soon learns that the keeper of his heart is not at all what she seems . . .

As Vera lures George into a twisted web of pleasure beyond his most torrid dreams, his dark past lurks within shadow, waiting for the moment to strike. But George loves Vera, and his infatuation will never succumb. If he gives her every dirty little thing she craves, will Vera free him from hell?

EXCERPT:​

If Vera Cross really loved him, she would free him from his twisted hell.

For five years George loved her unconditionally.

For five years he imagined how it would feel to be inside her.

Vera’s presence made time stand still while he waited with as much patience as a shark catching that first scent of blood in the water. Her every move, every word, every look felt like an extension of his own body, his own mind, his very soul. She unleashed a burning craze in him every time he heard the click of her heels on the polished tiled floors. He couldn’t handle the loneliness any longer. Couldn’t bear to spend another night without her by his side.

“Tell me what you need, Mr. Bradley,” she said, her sexy voice making his pulse race.

I need you, Vera. He smiled to himself, knowing that if she gave him the chance, he would make her happy . . . in every single dirty way.

The long sweep of her charcoal lashes cloaked the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Blue like a freshwater lake beneath a glacier, vivid against her alabaster skin and jet-black hair. Ripe in all the right places, her body should’ve been replicated into a sculpture, for his eyes only. With endless curves and slopes to make a man hungry for action, she defined a cock-teasing goddess. He felt utterly compelled to lick the glossy leather of the plain black heels encasing her tiny feet.
​
He wanted it all.

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For those who still prefer a print copy in hand, this story, along with several others will release in print next month!

​​Passion has no boundaries in the great outdoors . . .
 
From the concrete jungle to the wilds of Northern Ontario, Sierra Williams takes a management job at a remote wilderness resort. Forced to travel by boat with a guide who is both annoying and arousing, her fate is sealed when the boat springs a leak. They are forced ashore for a night under the stars waiting to be rescued, where nothing but the wind and the wildlife can hear her passionate cries.

EXCERPT:​

After working this last week, side-by-side with Gary, learning the ins and outs of wilderness resorts and campgrounds, Sierra had developed an easy camaraderie with the burly man. Watching Gary deal with customers in a casual, friendly manner was refreshing. She had yet to see an unhappy face. Oddly enough, she still didn’t know his job title. He seemed to be the resort’s jack of all trades, and from what she’d seen, a master of a lot more than one.

She’d come to admire him, although there were times when his teasing words annoyed her. His strength could be compared to a bear, she’d decided, after witnessing Gary haul forty-five-gallon drums on his shoulders the first day she’d arrived. Thick, corded arm muscles shimmered under the sun from sweat. A broad chest tapered to a narrow waist. He sure had an incredible body, and his green eyes looked exquisite against sun-tanned skin and dark brown hair.

He squatted down and rinsed the knife in the water.

Sierra stared at the white wife-beater clinging to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. She licked her lips, imagining a hundred possible positions a man like him could handle with such raw power at his disposal. He could probably pound her standing up with nothing for support but his own powerful legs. She looked away, her cheeks flushed, before he noticed her ogling him. “That’s quite the knife you have there,” she said, just to fill the silence.

Gary finished rinsing the knife and stood to face her, holding the blade at a dangerous angle between them. Sierra’s eyes widened and she stared at the sharp, shiny edge. He held the weapon so close her eyes nearly crossed looking at it.

“One flick of my wrist and I could completely remove your bra. Nice, eh?”

She swallowed. “I didn’t realize men thought about breasts while cleaning fish.”

“Men think about tits during any moment of the day.” His gaze slipped down to her chest. “And I must say, you have a healthy set of lungs.”

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​Andi Thomas has a problem. These days her boyfriend seems distant, and selfish in the bedroom. Add on the fact that he doesn’t respect her job as a mechanic because she’s a woman. To make matters worse, a gorgeous stranger moves in next door, and he’s everything her boyfriend isn’t. What’s a woman to do when she’s had enough?
​
When Darren Holloway discovers the fiery vixen next door is the very person he’s been looking for, he’s caught between his need to strike a business deal, and the immediate urge to have her. He finds himself falling for Andi fast . . . and finding interesting ways to convince the beautiful grease monkey that he’s the one thing she’ll never have to fix.

EXCERPT:​

Andi stood dumbfounded in the steamy room, her gaze locked on a naked man behind the blurry shower curtain. Although she remembered giving another tenant heck for spying on men in such a situation—she suddenly understood the temptation. As she admired the exquisite cut of sinewy muscle, bronzed skin, and his graceful movements, hot moisture of arousal—hotter than the steam rising up and out from behind that shower curtain—formed between her legs. Being caught ogling his sexy body might be an offense punishable by law, but she couldn’t think of one reason why it wouldn’t be worth it.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” His voice lingered like a wet caress in the room.

She shivered involuntarily as a hot blush—not caused by the steam—worked its way into her cheeks. Andi could swear she recognized the voice of the man but couldn’t be sure, and she was still pissed off enough about her foot not to care.

The riveting sight of this man working the washcloth all over his honed body definitely wasn’t helping her sexual matters. She could honestly jump in there with him and simply beg for him to help her achieve an orgasm, then kindly allow him to go on his way and forget about her.

Her gaze drifted up and down a dozen times as she watched his graceful movements, the water spraying over him, washing away the dirt from a night’s work, or maybe the sweat and bodily fluids caused by a night of ravishing some lucky woman.

She shuddered from the thought of being the one he mounted, their bodies slapping and bucking against each other.

Those wicked images disappeared into something else when the fragrance of vanilla-scented soap enveloped her, consumed her. A new vision came to life, one of her neighbor—and of her working the soap over his body until her hands came into contact with his cock . . .

“You might as well pass me a towel. I wasn’t expecting you so early. Horny little thing, aren’t you?”

Andi didn’t have time to react to his outrageous comment before a big hand reached around the shower curtain as if to grab her. She jerked back, rushed over to the bench, grabbed the only towel that was sitting out, and threw it in the direction of his hand.

Torrid thoughts of grasping his wet ass cheeks through the curtain taunted her to be a bad girl, to forget propriety and her reputation.

He moved the towel down inch by agonizing inch.

She watched . . . mouth agape . . . lips dry.

It was madness. She should leave, but she stood there, glued to the floor. Her gaze moved with the motion of his towel as he dried his crotch. Andi swallowed, completely fixated on his cock. The steam in the room seemed overwhelming. Yes, that must be it. The steam. She wiped a hand over her brow and took several deep breaths.
​
“Would you like to join me?”

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​How do you celebrate a divorce? Join a sex club!

Sasha Borden is two weeks away from being a free woman, and free she certainly wants to be. What better way to rejoice her new life than joining an underground sex club, where strangers meet for a night of flesh-filled fantasy?
​
At Sinful Epiphany any and every wish can be fulfilled while identities are always kept secret. As Sasha embarks on her naughty rendezvous with a stranger, one night of stripped inhibitions could lead to sexual euphoria, or something even more sinful . . .

EXCERPT:

​Sasha slipped the mask on and waited for further instruction.

“Your dress, Madame.”

“My dress, what?” Her voice sounded completely different behind the full-faced mask.

He chuckled. “The dress must be removed. All ladies wear a red silk negligee, and the men wear black silk boxers. Once you reach the end of the hallway, you will take the stairs to your right where your gentleman caller awaits.”

Holy fuck. This is it.

With no words to give him, Sasha nodded as she pulled the straps of her sundress over her shoulders, letting the garment drift down to pool at her feet. She kicked it up, grabbed the material from her foot, and handed it to him. He winked and dropped her dress over his forearm, then swept his hand out, gesturing to the other end of the hall. She stared at the darkness beyond the hallway. It seemed ridiculous standing here in nothing but her heels and negligee and a full mask, but somehow it excited her as well, for already she felt a dampness between her legs. What would her family think if they knew she was here? Poor Mom would have a heart attack and probably call the cops--just as Elisa suggested. She shuddered, wondering what Gage would think of her behavior. He’d probably burn the place down, or at the very least, beat up all the men in attendance. But what she chose to do with her life was no longer his business or his concern, and it was high time Sasha realized that as well. She was alone now and in control of her life.

The soft click of her heels were in tune with the classical music echoing through the stunning mansion. As she made her way to the foot of the stairs and looked up . . . there, on the landing, stood her gentleman caller.

She paused as her breath hitched and her skin tingled. Her lover had a body made from manual labor or maybe he worked out at a gym every day, either way, he appeared hard as granite. Black silk boxers encased strong, corded legs and the full-faced black mask hid everything but his eyes which were nearly as black as the mask. Sasha swallowed, suddenly nervous, yet turned on at the same time. Did she have the courage to ask for what she wanted? Yes . . . you do. You need this.
​
As if sensing her fear, the man lifted his arm, crooked his finger . . . and like a kitten drawn to milk, Sasha took the stairs toward Phoenix.

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How do you celebrate a divorce? Join a sex club!
 
Sasha Borden is two weeks away from being a free woman, and free she certainly wants to be. What better way to rejoice her new life than joining an underground sex club, where strangers meet for a night of flesh-filled fantasy?
 
At Sinful Epiphany any and every wish can be fulfilled while identities are always kept secret. As Sasha embarks on her naughty rendezvous with a stranger, one night of stripped inhibitions could lead to sexual euphoria, or something even more sinful . . .

Release date: July 2, 2020

​Janna has a secret. She’s secretly loved and fantasized about her boss since she began working for him two years ago. Time after time, she’s failed to draw his notice, until one fateful day she comes across the book, How to Tempt a Man . . . for the Desperate Woman.

Armed with a naughty to-do list, she embarks on a journey to capture Mr. Tremaine’s attention, for any hot-blooded man cannot ignore the power of a passionate woman . . . can they?

​Janna had come to the point where looking for another job seemed the better way out, for she couldn’t stand to be near him when she felt like this.

She returned to the setting panel on the copier, knowing the code was a single-digit but not recalling which one. “Is it seven or eight?”

“Maybe nine,” Karen said dreamily.

“What? That’s not the code. It’ll never go through.”

“You wouldn’t believe how well it’ll go” —Karen spun around— “what?” Her quizzical expression made Janna tremble with suppressed laughter. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

Karen blushed and cast her gaze to the floor.

“You’re a dirty girl, K. What would our boss think of you?”

“Nothing, I’m sure.” Karen leaned closer to whisper, “I happen to know he’s interested in somebody and not for a quick bang either. Nobody knows who she is, but she’s one lucky bitch if you ask me.”

Janna shook her head, incredulous over their silly conversation. “How do you know all these things, K?”

“Have you forgotten? His sister is a friend of mine. She tells me everything.”

Janna dared a glance at Mr. Tremaine through the glass windows of his office. He stood over his desk, leaning on his knuckles, gazing down at something—she guessed some paperwork for one of his cases. A loose lock of wavy black hair dangled over his eyes. Janna sucked in a breath when he casually swept it back behind his ear. The gesture made her stomach flutter.

Her gaze traversed his body. God, he had a build like Robocop, not a businessman. But then again, working as a private investigator required physical strength in case he stumbled into a dangerous situation. She licked her lips, knowing well his quick smile and sensual hazel eyes, all of it a handsome package. He towered over her as well, and it made her feel tiny beside him—another turn-on. Having curves and height meant she knew few men who had any interest in her, for the modern man still seemed stuck on short and cute or thin and tall. Since being in Mr. Tremaine’s employ, there were times when she caught him staring at her, but she quickly reminded herself that, as the boss, he needed to keep an eye on his staff. It wasn’t personal. His gaze was strictly business.

Mr. Tremaine could probably pick her up, press her against a wall, and fuck her without support. She exhaled hard, reminding herself they were at work, as her naughty gaze wandered over his coal-black hair. Her favorite thing had to be his hair, for it always looked like he just got out of bed. She closed her eyes, imagining her fingers skimming through those locks and pulling his face down for a kiss. The very thought made her body yearn for the fantasy to come true.
She opened her eyes and caught him looking at her. Shit.

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​A lounge singer, haunted by the past, Nina Grey pours her soul into her music and her trysts with women. But having a sexy roommate like Jordan, who looks at her like he can read her thoughts, makes her question her true desires. Would one night in his bed ease her turmoil, or complicate their friendship?

Jordan Martin views Nina like a glass of fine scotch, yet two things stand in his way. Nina claims that she doesn’t like men, and she doesn’t know a thing about his jaded life either. But when her past catches up with her, and secrets are exposed, Jordan is forced to show his true colors, or risk forever losing the only woman who stirs his soul . . .

​Everything about her turned him on. From her curvy ass to her smile that was warm enough to melt a frozen lake . . . especially with the little gap between her front teeth. If he didn’t concentrate, when her hazel eyes glinted under the lights, it could reach right into his jeans and stroke his cock to life. He even thought the hemorrhoid cream she put under her eyes every night was fucking cute. All those little things made Nina special to him.

Having these uncontrollable feelings around her confused him. He didn’t know what to say or how to act. He didn’t want to scare her away. Being a gentleman was one thing, but being himself was another. Deep down, he knew that if he couldn’t have her physically, he’d always stand in the shadows and admire her from afar, and be her friend—it was better than not having her in his life at all.

A wry smile curved his lips. Nina may think she only desired women, but Jordan sensed a lot more to it than that. She was hiding something, probably using her fun with other women as a front. He got that. Experimenting wasn’t a bad thing. But, still . . .

He’d tossed and turned again last night, listening to her less-than-convincing moans while her latest lover tried to bring her to orgasm—without victory. If she’d let him between her legs, she’d be squirting on his face like a disturbed can of beer.

The question lingered like a curse at the back of his mind; were her lovers the problem, or was Nina holding back? He’d be tempted to give up his freedom and go to jail just to know her secrets.

Nina turned her sweet face, and she looked at his arm, gnawing her lower lip between her teeth.
Rendered speechless, he stood frozen, captured by the curve of her full, peach-colored lips. His gaze wandered down to the twin melons beneath her V-neck shirt, and his mouth went dry. He wanted to cup them in his hands, hold the weight of each plump breast, and suck on her taut nipples. He’d nip them until she begged him to stop the exquisite torture--

“Missing something?” She held out his trusty bottle of Glenfiddich.

“Oh, right.” He snatched the bottle, averting his gaze from her chest, and proceeded to pour a healthy measure, at least three fingers. Fuck it, may as well be five.

Nina chuckled, raking her hazel-eyed gaze over him. “Planning on getting drunk, are we?”

“Might as well.” He turned away, concentrating solely on his drink.

Nina leaned forward, putting her face directly in his view over the counter. He didn’t want to look at her, but she didn’t give him a choice.

“What’s your problem?”

He smiled, knowing it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing, babe. Just a long day.” A long day of bullshit thoughts.
​
Blissfully unaware of his reality, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. The impression of her sweet lips burned his lonely flesh. He couldn’t help wondering how those luscious lips would feel directed elsewhere--

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