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 . . .
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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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--
SOOTHE MY SOUL is available at: Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N | Kobo
LIVE BAIT is out on virtual shelves today, ladies and gents! Get your copy today!
Connie craves more than ordinary love behind closed doors, under the sheets, and with the lights off. She wants to rekindle the passion she and her husband once had before life became complicated with bills and jobs and kids.
Welcome to Second Chances Resort . . . where your love life is reborn!
Jack thinks the resort is a complete joke and a waste of money. However, the nearby river offers avid anglers the best fishing around. If he can sneak away and drop a line while his wife talks about rose petals and edible panties, he may just survive the trip.
Will Connie toss out her best lure and hook Jack for good, or is a cold fish the only thing on the menu?
Ordered to collect payment from a connection, Chase Carter ends up rescuing his boss’ adopted daughter instead. When she awakens in his car in a mad dash across town, she doesn’t want to go home. She wants to go with him to be safe, at his secluded cottage, where nobody would dare touch her . . .
Sam has been in love with Chase since she could remember. He’s hot as fire, tough as nails, and The Big Guy’s best enforcer. One night alone with him lights a spark she cannot deny, so she gives him a night he’ll never forget. But somebody else has a different idea, and what he has in mind could shred their new passion to pieces.
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Elli likes everything to be perfect, especially in the courtroom. Representing a jackass who happens to be her big brother’s best friend is annoying, to say the least. But when disturbing late-night phone calls begin to surface, having a sexy bad guy to watch her doesn’t seem so horrible after all . . . as long as she doesn’t stare too long at those gorgeous eyes that speak of dirty things.
Up to his nuts in trouble, Dane Cole is lucky to have Eleanor Woods, one of the toughest criminal attorneys in the city. She’s gorgeous and loves to argue, is strict and wears her hair back in a tight bun, and has an ass that begs for a smack. When her life is threatened, Dane is sent to watch over her. They soon learn that danger often leads to excitement, but can he keep her safe from a stalker when his own control is stretched beyond the edge?
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Is that a gun in his pocket or…?
Jamie Fields can hardly refuse a free vacation. Jobless and broke, the struggling single gal is in need of serious stress relief. Sure, the set up is suspicious—no one gives away a trip to exotic Cuba—complete with 50,000 dollars cash—just for delivering a package. But once Jamie’s enjoying sunny beach days and exhilarating tropical nights, she’s too happy to care. Especially when she finds herself hotly pursued by a sexy stranger…
The McCoy empire is under siege, and Sam Hayes has been tapped to take care of the culprit. Sam knows better than to get involved with his target, but there’s something about Jamie that keeps him from simply finishing the job and moving on. Maybe the hard-bodied hitman just can’t wrap his mind around the fact that the first woman to set his soul on fire is a common criminal. The only thing Sam can do is keep her close. An easy enough task—if Sam doesn’t do something stupid. Like fall in love with the bombshell he was sent to kill….
"Humorous and explosive...a thrilling and exciting tale."
~RT Book Reviews, 4 stars
To read an excerpt click here
It's time for another release, ladies and gents! I'm thrilled to introduce PULSE, my short dark erotica that hit the virtual shelves today!
Warning! Erotic Excerpt ahead...
If she wanted honesty, she’d get every naughty little detail.
Some might consider him crazy for loving her in his way, but he didn’t care. He adored her, and he’d own the spread of her thighs better than anyone else could. He’d spank her until her curvy ass displayed his palm print. He’d fuck her, like a hurricane ravaged a coastal town.
He was a man on a mission. Besides, he’d never hurt her. On the contrary, he was following her advice — advice given in a feathery voice full of passion and mayhem and promises....
Her bedroom lamp illuminated her curvy silhouette. He drew closer, to better see into the room. Every move she made, every breath she took, pulled him in like a torrid dream. He observed the beautiful curves of her body, visible through her sheer nightgown. Beauty didn’t get any better than this.
Blood rushed to his cock. He gave his hard-on a squeeze and groaned from the thrilling sensation.
He should be her man — the lover at her mercy. Desperate and diligent, he’d use every ounce of his experience and passion to make her scream with lust. Tears would fill her eyes by the sheer ecstasy of his touch. He’d bend her over and fuck away any doubts she might have about him. He’d make certain she’d remember every contour of his cock as he penetrated her in every way imaginable.
A slight breeze tousled his hair, carrying the scent of roses. The full moon highlighted the path to her. Tonight was the perfect night to make his move for he had nothing left to lose, and everything to give.
He reached out and handled a silken bloom, rolling it between his fingers like tissue paper. Inhaling the rich aroma, he had to push aside the urge to groan from the scent of her. A scent that intoxicated him to the fullest. These bushes were her pride and glory. Even her perfume carried the same heavy, floral bouquet, a drug to the senses. He shuddered, remembering the last time she’d walked past his room, leaving that unforgettable scent in her wake.
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It's another day for a new book, ladies and gents! Introducing Never Give You Up, book 2 in the McCoy's Boys Series...
A life of crime—or a lifetime of love?
Mary Billings knows her solitary mountain life is over when a handsome stranger blows on to her land in an unmarked chopper. Terry McCoy is not only dangerous to the pretty widow’s shattered senses, he’s a hardened criminal no woman in her right mind would fall for. Yet there’s something tender about Terry—something that makes her surrender to his searing touch. Now Mary is in deep—deep enough to be taken hostage by a villain whose true target is Terry…
The son of a notorious crime boss, Terry is about to take over his murdered father’s multi-million dollar empire. But first there’s the little matter of avenging his father’s death—and rescuing the one woman he knows could turn his hard-bitten life around. Terry never wanted a life of crime, but suddenly he’s ready to do just about anything to bring Mary back…
They walked in silence along the path, surrounded by the relaxing swish of branches in the breeze. Nothing compared to the natural beauty of her property. Trees pushing sixty feet or more, some with trunks the width of a vehicle. The trickle of water from the river a constant and relaxing sound. The ever-present mountain tips above the treetops. It never failed to amaze her how insignificant she was in this endless highway of nature.
“If we catch anything, will it be on the dinner menu tonight?”
“Sure, if you’d like.”
His relieved sigh made her chuckle. “Thank God. I was beginning to think I’d have to shoot a squirrel or something.”
Mary paused on the path and turned to face him. “I’m not a complete hick you know. Mima might enjoy frontier living, but not me. I actually own an electric coffee pot, and I blow-dry my hair.”
Terry nodded, his lip curling in amusement. “Good to know.”
She stepped off the path and parted the brush. “Watch you don’t get your rod caught in here. It’s a little tricky.”
“Want to hold it for me?”
The insinuation in his voice was unmistakable. “I’m talking about your fishing rod—not your dick.” Her eyes widened when she realized how terrible that sounded coming from her own mouth.
Terry’s rumble of laughter made her cheeks burn. “My, my, you have a dirty mind, Mary. I wasn’t even talking about that.”
Completely embarrassed, Mary stepped through the brush first and let the branches whip behind her, right in his face. She ignored his curse and his loud fight to get through the brush without getting his rod stuck, and made her way to the river’s edge. She’d just set down her tackle box when Terry burst through the trees, violently yanking his pole out of the twisted branches.
“Why don’t you trim the brush there?” Terry threw his gear onto the rocks and panted for air. “Jesus Christ, I might need plastic surgery on my face now.”
Mary’s shoulders shook from laughing. The crumpled mess of his hat barely clung to his head. He looked so cute and out of his element that her smile faltered as she stared at him, realizing this was the first time she’d seen him look vulnerable.
He wanted to come here. The city boy criminal wanted to be here—with her.
She opened her tackle box and found the perfect jig. “This is my private spot, Terry. I don’t want anyone finding it.”
He shook his head and stood straight, stretching out his back. “I don’t think that’ll ever be a problem. A Smurf can barely fit through it.”
Mary turned around and glared at him. “Are you teasing me about my height?”
He cleared his throat and set out to find a spot to fish from. “Of course not.” Yet his voice spilled with suppressed laughter.
For a long while they were completely silent, enjoying the trickle of the water, the swish and sway of branches in the breeze, the musical chatter of the birds. Every once in a while Mary would glance at him without making it obvious, and stifle a smile over his struggles. But he managed to get a decent cast out into the river and after a while he seemed to be really enjoying himself. Mary imagined he didn’t get much joy in life. How could anyone who lived on the wrong side of the law?
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Here he is, ladies and gents. Beautiful Criminal is out!
Long days, precious nights…
Mima Etu lives a quiet life with her sled dogs in the stunning Canadian Rockies. But that all changes when she stumbles upon a plane crash while out on a supply run. She’s shocked to discover the pilot is still alive—though barely. With the sun setting and the temperatures quickly dropping, Mima knows he’d never survive the trip to the nearest hospital. So she takes the stranger back to her cabin. As he heals, his vague answers to Mima’s questions about the flight tell her he has secrets. But more disturbing is the consuming, immediate attraction she senses between them.
Before he lost control of his Cessna and plunged into a pilot’s hell, Gabriel Miller was on a deadly mission with precious cargo. Now he’s awakened in the comfort of a log cabin with a gorgeous woman tending to his every need. Her soft-spoken beauty sparks his longing for a different kind of life….and it isn’t long before they surrender to a blazing passion. But their blissful days are numbered. For the owners of the cargo are bent on finding Gabriel—and once they do, they don’t intend to leave any witnesses behind.
Gabe guided his Cessna 172 Skyhawk as low as he dared over Athabasca River, headed toward Victoria, British Columbia. His boss, Colton McCoy wanted the merchandise delivered by early evening, and time was running short. Due to thick clouds and wind gusts, he’d set off from the private airport near Edmonton two hours later than scheduled, and now, as ice fog overtook the windshield, he wished the flight was canceled all together. Every muscle in his body was as tight as a drawn elastic trying to keep the damn plane level. Most pilots worth their salt knew the Great White North had a mind of its own and the weather could change from pretty to shitty in a second.
Tired of this shit was an understatement. He’d put his life on the line for McCoy too many times. He’d broken necks and busted wallets for the old man. Delivered drugs to every corner of this godforsaken earth. Took a bullet one too many times. And he was dead tired of it all. But this was his job and Gabe owed Colton his life.
An uneasy feeling festered in his gut, a warning this trip would end up worse than the last, but turning back now wasn’t an option. The cargo secured in back needed to be delivered without delay, no matter how insane the weather turned, and there was no landing strip for a good hundred miles in any direction. Which basically meant Gabe was an idiot for accepting this job—not that he had a choice.
The landscape ahead looked gray and white—the only visual cues to height and distance was the river below the mountain peaks. Flying at this low altitude was borderline suicidal, but getting caught on radar would put Gabe behind bars. He’d rather take a crazy chance than wear the orange jump suit. He’d rather die than be locked in a cell that would remind him of that cage his partner had rescued him from five years ago.
The nightmares still plagued him.
Gabe squinted to concentrate on the flight path ahead as snow hit the windshield, creating the illusion of a time-warp tunnel.
Flying flowed in his veins. His grandfather and father were distinguished pilots in their own right—Grandpa a fighter pilot in the Second World War, and his father one of the best bush pilots in northern Canada. Neither of them would be proud of what Gabe did for a living, but this was what he did best. He was up in the sky before he could walk and he loved the freedom of being up the air.
“Always fly the plane…never let it fly you,” his father always said. Those words had kept Gabe alive on more than one occasion when a flight got out of control.
He chuckled, recalling his last trip to Columbia and the ruckus ditch they’d called a landing strip. The Skyhawk came down on one wheel and skidded across the muddy runway, stopped only by a tree stump in the ground that barely prevented him from going over the hillside cliffs.
Now, as he flew low over the Canadian Rockies, Gabe realized this flight would have been a dangerous mission at any time, never mind during midwinter when his chances of surviving a crash were practically zero. But he lived for reckless adventure, always abiding Colton’s demands. Over the years, the more dangerous the job, the more excited he was to take it on.
But as the gray hairs kept growing, and his body continued aching, he wondered if there was more to life than this. More than risking his hide at every turn and living a solitary existence. More than busting his ass for Colton McCoy and his empire. The reckless need for speed and danger had already begun to lessen in his early thirties. If he could get away with it, this would be the last mission. It was high time he put up his feet and enjoyed the money he’d fought hard to earn.
A shift in turbulence made the plane jolt so hard Gabe collided against the dash.
He gripped the throttle, keeping the nose level as the engine surged with a loud roar, then eased to a low rumble. Gabe looked down at the instrument panel and blew out a curse when the needles spun out of control.
“Don’t do this to me now, baby. Come on,” he urged, patting the dash with one hand and pulling the throttle back slightly with the other. The Skyhawk was his baby. They’d been through hell and back on missions some might consider suicidal.
Chinook winds battered the plane, tossing the aircraft around like a dry leaf.
Every time he shifted the throttle another gust tossed him in the wrong direction. Left with little choice as the engine sputtered and lost momentum, Gabe opened the side window to view the landscape below. The river twisted like a snake beneath him, and on each side the towering Rockies left no room for a safe landing.
Strong winds blew snow off the mountains, creating tails of white through the sky, making it impossible to see exactly where the mountain ridges started or ended.
The engine sputtered again before the props stilled. Nothing but the sound of the wind howled through the cockpit.
Gabe held the throttle in a pointless death grip. The Cessna was now in the hands of the shifting Canadian winds. There was no time to pray, even for a man who didn’t believe in God, and he could not radio “Mayday” and risk the authorities finding him. His life and the cargo were now at the mercy of the wild.
He caught a brief glimpse of snow-covered mountains ahead, before the plane took a nosedive into the white depths below.