Saturday, October 23, 2010

French Tickler by Sloane Taylor

French Tickler
ISBN: 978-1-60168-323-6

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Lingerie designer Samantha Bradley is on the brink of major success. While having the time of her life in Nice she meets sexy Cisco Bernier, a man who turns her heart inside out and makes her body sizzle.

Despite being France’s key criminal prosecutor, Cisco’s success in relationships has been less than zero. When he meets Sam, his staid world goes up in flames.

Their happiness is short lived as their pasts collide. His underhanded mother and her mob-connected father resurface to threaten their future.

Tonight, Sam intended to show Cisco her creative side. Eating their way through a picnic dinner in her living room, followed by dessert in her bedroom, had to produce a special night he’d not soon forget.

Somehow this stiff man, filled with passion and sensitivity, had edged his way underneath the chain she kept locked tight around her heart. It was utterly ridiculous.

They’d only known each other for a few days. Hell, she still hadn’t screwed up the courage to tell him what she did for a living. Yet, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

Like a thief skulking away in the night, she’d allowed him to believe she was an artist. If she wanted this little tête-à-tête to continue, she had to learn to trust him, be truthful, but she’d worry about that later. Right now, she had underwear issues to decide.

The short dresser drawer slid open with ease. She fingered a row of lingerie, deciding which was the sexiest for her. Sexy undies gave women that extra courage and oomph they sometimes needed to carry out a devilish plan. Sans tail and pitch fork, Sam planned to seduce Cisco for a night of hot sex guaranteed to keep him blazing.

Sam rummaged through the neat array, searching for that hard-on guaranteed set she’d designed for nights like this. A naughty grin, accompanied by naughtier thoughts, blossomed when she spotted the royal blue shelf bra and matching boy shorts.

She tossed her robe toward the bed and slipped into the silky panties. A quick rear check in the cheval mirror proved they still fit, which surprised her, after indulging in way too much wine and rich food since she’d arrived in Europe.

Time for the pièce de résistance, the hottest garment in her catalogue, the shelf bra. A knowing smile broadened her grin as she hooked the satin underwire behind her back and looped her arms through the lace straps. She did a little shimmy and nodded with approval when her boobs jiggled, but not too much to be trashy.

At the closet, she scraped the padded hangers across the silver bar until her hand landed on an oyster gray gossamer blouse with a black silk wraparound skirt clipped beneath.

Cisco doesn’t stand a chance.

With all garments buttoned and tied, Sam fluffed her hair and returned to the other room to set the scene. She glanced around and scrutinized the taper and pillar candles she’d bought in the market that afternoon. Satisfied with their locations, she lit them and opened the balcony doors for the stars and moonlight to be the perfect backdrop.

Pleased with the warm glow in the otherwise dark room, Sam spread the oversized melon colored tablecloth over the carpet, then strategically placed the extra pillows the bellman had brought earlier against the couch and end chair legs. All in all, it was a cozy atmosphere conducive to love.


She shook her head.

Basta! Enough! You like him. So what? After this little vacation, it ends.

True, she liked… Okay, maybe like was too mild a word, but that was as good as she’d allow. No place in Sam Bradley’s world for love.

Yet, something inside bit at her conscience. Of course, she’d been sexually active, but she’d also been selective. She didn’t bed just anyone. There had to be some kind of bond and she loved the orgasms that fueled her creativity.

Save it for the flight home.

Right now she had more important issues on her mind.

Her next step in the master plan of seduction was to set the coffee table with the tantalizing foods prepared by the hotel kitchen. She laughed, remembering the grumpy chef’s expression when she handed him her menu for tonight. It soon turned to a broad grin as the old boy nodded, scanning his copy, and ripped loose with a few Ooh la las before kissing his fingertips and waving them in the air.

She straightened the trays and dishes, then tucked the wine bottles deeper into the ice filled silver bucket. Another intent look confirmed the room was perfect. She peeked at the desk clock as it chimed.

Time for the guest of honor to arrive.

And he had. She pulled the door open before the first knock faded. Her breath stalled as Cisco stood there, tall and handsome, in a black silk sport coat that enhanced his broad shoulders.

The man in black, right down to his loafers.

After a peck on each cheek, she helped him out of his jacket, loving the view of his taut ass as he turned. Lord, how she wanted to grab a handful and promised herself she would later.

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Sunday, October 17, 2010

Troy's Surrender by K.M. Mahoney

Troy's Surrender
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-757-1

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Troy Maxwell is a private detective soured on life. He’s spent so many years investigating and observing the darker sides of life and relationships that he no longer believes in true love. It’s time for a vacation, a long vacation. But when his best friend shows him a photograph of a rancher in Wyoming and offers him a new case, Troy can’t turn away. The stunning, well-built man in the picture calls to him in ways Troy hasn’t felt before.

It takes only a few minutes in rancher and horse breeder Rafe Morgan’s presence for Troy to realize that not everything is as it seems. And it takes only a few more minutes for him to realize that Rafe has the capability of making him break his rule about mixing business with pleasure. But Troy is living a lie and, as it always does, the truth comes out. When an explosion of anger leads to an even more violent explosion of passion, Troy comes to the startling conclusion that Rafe is one man he can’t afford to let get away.

First, though, he has to unwind the tangle of lies he’s created and win back Rafe’s trust. No one has ever accused Troy of giving up easily, and he’s about to prove just how stubborn he can be when it really counts...

...Troy chucked his phone onto the bed. Whoever it was had waited nearly two days. They could wait another half hour while he cleaned up.

And if he was procrastinating? Well, too bad. He would worry about it later. Tomorrow, maybe. Everyone was entitled to play the role of Scarlett every once in a while and put off things for another day. He was picking today as his day.

Troy was leaning over in the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel, when footsteps echoed in the stairwell. He froze, gaze darting toward his cell phone, lying there like the proverbial elephant in the room.

The water in the bathroom turned on and Troy realized he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t call Ken and Mark and discuss their so-called case. He couldn’t betray Rafe like that, not while in the man’s home. Maybe not at all. God, when had this whole thing turned into such a mess? And when had he gotten so sentimental and mushy? So attached?

Didn’t matter. Troy realized that what he really wanted was a couple of stiff drinks. He yanked on a clean pair of jeans, grabbed his keys and phone, and headed for the front door. The small town of Everton was a few miles up ahead. This was cattle country. There would be beer. And possibly whiskey.

Sure enough, several small taverns dotted the main street, looking old and worn next to the hardware stores and the Wal-Mart complex a few blocks down. Troy picked one and walked in. Liquid courage first. Phone calls later.

Nearly half an hour later Troy signaled for another beer, cell phone mashed against his ear. “I’m just saying, I think we’re going about this all wrong. I know Mark wants to sue Rafe for all he’s got. But you know what? He doesn’t have anything. Just a crumbling ranch that barely pulls in enough money to keep from going under each year.”

“Is everything okay down there?” Ken asked with a note of concern in his voice. “Because you don’t sound like yourself.”

“Could be the four beers. Five? Dunno, I lost count after that shot of tequila.”

“Okay, now I know something is going on. Want to tell Uncle Ken?”

“That sounded vaguely…nasty or something. Look, I think we maybe should remember that Mark is still a kid. Maybe he doesn’t know what’s best for himself. Maybe he’s letting a screwed-up childhood turn him into someone he shouldn’t be. Doesn’t need to be. Whatever.”

“And maybe you’re drunk and not making a whole lot of sense. What’s so complicated about this? Mark—client. You—detective. So finish the job, get the info, and come home.”

Troy swallowed a belch—eww, gross—and slid off his stool, tossing some bills on the counter on his way out. He was already being stupid, talking about the case in a public place. Small town and all that. He didn’t really think the locals would appreciate where the conversation was going next.

Troy stepped outside and leaned against a corner of the building. “I like him,” he blurted out.

“Like who?”

“Rafe. I like him. You know, like him, like him.”

“What are you, a thirteen-year-old girl? So you have a crush on the mark. Big deal.”

“The mark? Shit, when did I turn into a con man?” Troy ran his free hand through his hair, thinking that maybe the description wasn’t too far off. He felt like a con man. Every day that he continued to lie to Rafe chafed at him, like an annoying bug bite on the back of his knee that just wouldn’t go away.

“Troy?” The serious note in Ken’s voice caught his full attention. “Have you broken the, and I quote, ‘number one PI rule of all time’? Have you fallen for a client?”

“He’s not a client,” Troy protested. He actually squirmed a bit in the uncomfortable silence that followed. “All right, maybe a bit,” he finally admitted. “But Rafe is nice and gorgeous and, oh God, you should see his ass.”

Troy clamped his mouth shut before he could continue gushing. Damn, he really was acting like a teenaged girl. Maybe he should stop drinking for the night.

Then again, maybe he hadn’t had enough.

“Troy, you need to finish the job and get your ass back home,” Ken said. “Don’t complicate the situation.”

Troy hung up without saying goodbye. He let his head drop back against the siding with a loud thump. He should probably take Ken’s advice. Probably.

Didn’t mean he would. Or even could.

Troy thumped his head against the wall a few more times before he pushed away and stuck his phone into his pocket. He needed another drink. Or three...

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Saturday, October 16, 2010

Finally Out!

With Ellora's Cave

Months of running into her sexy new neighbor have taken a toll on Alexis’ libido. There’s interest in his smoky gaze every time they meet, but he seems reluctant to ask her out. They never share more than a slight nod and a polite hello. She’s about to take matters into her own hands when she finds herself thrown into a situation that could end her life.

With nothing but erotic fantasies of Alexis to warm his bed at night, Reid knows he has to stay away from her until his undercover assignment is over. But when a cold-blooded initiation to prove he’s trustworthy forces him to involve her, nothing can keep him from claiming her.

Tory Richards

Thursday, October 14, 2010

French Twist by Sloane Taylor

French Twist

Warning: Contains Spanking

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Interpol agent Claudette D’Laquois is on the run. Dull Uncle Paul and his rundown chateau in Nice, France are her only safe haven…but she never planned on the delectable estate manager who is even more dangerous than the Russian mob boss who wants her dead.

Three weeks of overseeing operations at his friend’s orchard seems like the ideal vacation to CPA Don Hobbs. And so it was—until a French sex goddess pulls him into a world of drugs, intrigue, and erotic fantasy.

The throbbing burst into her head again. She rubbed her temples. “S’il vous plait, do not make this more difficult.”

“Hey, I get it. You’re this tough woman who can handle herself in any kind of danger. But, you need to look at it from my point of view.” He stepped behind her and massaged her shoulders, edging up to her neck.

Instant relief.

She sighed with each knead that worked free the stress knots.

“Let’s just say this Cesar doesn’t come alone. You ever figure he’s not a good guy?” Sarcasm streamed with each word.

“I know him.” She shrugged off his hands and turned, her fists balled tight. “You do not.”

“I’m not stupid and I do know a bunch of bullshit when I hear it.” His words bounced off the walls. “You think this fucker is your long-lost savior. Not hardly likely, chickee, if he bailed on a high profile government job and left you to the wolves.” He squinted at her, a vein pulsed along his forehead. “Was your commander right? Did you and James Fuckingbond have a couple of rolls in the sack and now you think he’s gonna be the righteous man of the hour? Is that all it takes with you? A fast fuck and a couple of swats on the ass to make you bend over and suck mud?”

“You dare to speak to me this way?” Red flashed before her eyes. “One afternoon of sex and you think you own me? Know what my life is like? How it should be orchestrated? You assume the right to be my master?” Meeting him decibel for decibel, she yelled, “You are an idiot!”

She swung out her hand, ready to slap his face. Hard.

With an expression cold and fierce, he leaned into her.

“Don’t do it. Don’t do one fucking thing you don’t want done back to you.” He stood his ground, fists planted on his hips. “I’m a nice guy. A fucking gentleman until someone, and I don’t care if she is a broad, muscles me. You got that? Loud and clear? Has it sunk you’re your brain? I will not—”


A low growl came from deep in his chest. In slow motion, he rubbed his cheek along her red imprint, eyes narrowed to slits. “That’s it, baby, party’s over.”

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around, flopped onto the bed, and yanked her over his knee.


Her cotton skirt shredded like tissue as he yanked it up over her ass, exposing her boy shorts.

“I told you before you needed a good spanking and the time’s come.” The satin panties were ripped away.


His hand cracked down on her firm rear. The sting raced across her flesh, charging heat to her clit.

“Ow!” She struggled to get free, flailing her legs and arms, but his free hand pressed across her back, holding her in place. “You will pay for this, you le fils d'une chienne.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will, but not as much as you. And I’m not a son of a bitch. My mother is a nice woman.”


“Nice girls don’t talk like that either.”

Whack. Whack.

“Donald, stop before it is—”


“Too late? Too bad. Already is and I don’t give a shit.”

Whack. Whack.

His rigid penis pressed into her abdomen and dampness pooled in her panties. Pressure built between her thighs, increasing with each smack. She arched into him, loving it. Wanting this from the day they met.

Dieu, at this moment, he was her master. She wanted to be his equal, but not right now. Now, she wanted him to take control, had to know his brute force, needed him.

His hand slowed, then rested on her tingling flesh. He traced her butt cheek, edging closer to her perineum. She opened her thighs, praying he would slip between them.

He glided a finger along the crease, then dipped lower and stroked her swollen nether lips. Up and down, down and up, and she loved every stroke.

Cream seeped from her and her body begged for release. She no longer held back the moans.

“Had enough?” His words came out thick.

“Not of you.” She twisted around until she sat on his lap.

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Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
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Monday, October 11, 2010


The Club At Cool Harbor By Christiane France ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-760-1 (Electronic)Blurb:A year ago, all private investigator Gabe Muller needed to complete his perfect life was the perfect man.Then he met fellow P.I., Raz Reynolds, the man of his dreams. The attraction was mutual, and they made a date for dinner at Raz’s house. When Gabe arrived, he found Raz on the patio having sex with another man. Although literally caught with his pants down, Raz tried to explain that things weren’t at all the way they looked, but Gabe wasn’t buying it. Hurt and disillusioned, he cut off all contact with Raz.Now, the security firm for which Gabe works is hired by the owner of Le Club, the new all gay males’ resort at Cool Harbor, to stop the leak of highly sensitive, personal information about members’ leisure-time activities. Posing as a waiter, Gabe arrives to investigate and immediately runs into Raz, also there undercover. Although Gabe is working for the owner and Raz for one of the club members, their goal is the same. For this reason, Gabe suggests they temporarily put personal differences aside and share information.For Raz, it’s the perfect opportunity to try to convince Gabe what he thought he saw a year earlier wasn’t at all what it seemed. When Gabe learns the truth, will he believe Raz, forgive him, and give the man another chance?Excerpt:...Raz grinned. “It just occurred to me that if the doms at Le Club are masked, they know who they’re flogging or subduing or whatever, but the one on the receiving end may not.”Gabe frowned. “I thought that kind of thing was an established partnership, not just a one-off. You know, one or more slaves and their regular slave master, in which case, everyone knows everyone else. Of course, I could be wrong.”“Maybe it’s different at Le Club,” Raz suggested. “You know, like a spa. They come for a few days of R&R and they get to try out all the different disciplines and toys.”“As in someone hides his identity behind a mask and practices being a dom, then gets in touch with his media buddies and says, ‘Hey, guys, you won’t believe what X likes having done to him, which is great because I really needed to fix that sucker good, and he doesn’t have a clue who I am.’ Somehow, I don’t think that’s too likely.”“Why not?” Raz looked slightly offended. “You have a problem with that theory? I’m not saying some of them don’t go to the club to find new playmates, indulge in a couple of fantasies, or learn new things because I think that was the original idea behind Le Club—somewhere way off the beaten track where they can be themselves without constantly looking over their shoulders. However, that being said, these are sane, well-educated men we’re talking about here; guys who obviously know their way around the gay scene.“I just don’t see any of them engaging in what we both know are potentially dangerous, maybe even lethal sex games with complete strangers. At least, not the kind of heavy stuff I was told has been hinted at.” Gabe laughed and ran his hand very slowly down Raz’s flat stomach, stopping a scant inch or two short of his cock. “Sorry, babe. I think you’re really reaching.”“In that case, why don’t you do the same? Reach a tiny bit lower and put me out of my misery. Please!” Raz’s dark eyes danced with what Gabe suspected were deliciously wicked thoughts, then they slid shut as Raz ran the tip of his tongue around his mouth. “Imagine you’re my slave and you have to obey my every command.”“And if I don’t?” Gabe unbuttoned Raz’s cut-offs, noticing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them as he lowered the zipper to reveal Raz’s aroused shaft.“I’ll have to think up a suitable punishment.”Gabe pulled Raz’s cock free of confinement and rubbed his thumb over the damp and sensitive tip, loving the way Raz groaned and pushed against his hand. “What’s your pleasure, master?”“I want you to kiss me first.”“Like this?” Gabe stroked Raz’s lips with his tongue and then gently levered them apart. “Open your mouth.”Raz smiled as he reached up and ran a finger down Gabe’s cheek, a soft, butterfly touch that made Gabe even more aware of their mutual need. “You have to make me want to do that.”“Okay, master, if you say so.” Gabe pinched one of Raz’s nipples, hard. “How’s that?”“Ouch! That—” Before Raz could complete the sentence, Gabe had him pinned to the bed and his tongue was halfway down Raz’s throat.Raz tried to wrestle him off, but Gabe was the stronger and the heavier of the two. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to escape, Raz relaxed and let his body go limp. “S’okay if you want to be master,” Raz murmured as Gabe gentled his assault. “I just love a guy who knows how to take charge.”Gabe sucked on Raz’s tongue for a moment, but then Raz’s body stiffened just a little and he backed off, contenting himself with a little tongue-tango as he acquainted himself with Raz’s taste. The absolute last thing Gabe wanted to do was to rush this.He wanted tonight to be everything he’d hoped and dreamed of for what should have been their first time, the one that never happened. He wanted it to be perfect, magical even, a time of caring and sharing and getting to know one another. A time they would want to remember and build on...www.chrisgrover.ca

Friday, October 8, 2010

Release Day!

Ebook or print, All the Right Moves has arrived and you can find it at The Wild Rose Press!

Men in Uniform Series

After discovering one of her patients dead in her office, Doctor Annie McCall finds herself on the run for her life. Detective Marshall Thomas isn't afraid to break the rules and offers her refuge. The only problem is who'll protect Annie from him?

Marshall hadn't counted on his primary suspect creating such a dilemma in his life. But once he discovers someone wants her dead, he is determined to keep his mind on the job in order to find the killer and to keep her safe.

As they struggle to stay one step ahead of the killer, their attraction for each other spirals out of control. And soon the only danger Annie's facing is the heat between them.

(Pages 236) Spicy
ISBN: 1-60154-824-9
Tory Richards

Marshall reached for his wineglass before sitting back on his stool. For the hundredth time in an hour, his eyes went to the beauty mark on Annie's face. The reason the small flaw captivated him was because it was so close to temptation, and he suspected a taste of heaven. He had a burning desire to kiss her and find out if her lips were as smooth and soft as they appeared.

More than that, he wanted to taste her, in more ways than one. His cock twitched with the thought of what it would be like to wrap his tongue around hers. Earlier, in the bedroom, it had been a struggle not to throw himself down on her and give in to the situation building between them. She'd looked damn appealing on his water bed, glaring up at him with indignant fire in her eyes.

He was willing to bet the fire in her eyes would intensify when it was replaced with passion. The innocence she eluded wasn't a ruse, but a thin layer protecting the woman he sensed was hidden beneath the surface. When was the last time he'd met a woman like her?

"That was good, Detective." Annie's compliment broke the silence. She pushed her empty plate aside and dropped her napkin over it before reaching for her glass of wine. "Either you've never been married, or you've been divorced a long time." She narrowed her eyes at him over her glass.

"Fishing, Doc?" Marshall grinned, pouring more wine into his glass. A tiny smile played upon her lips, making him wonder what she was thinking.

"What now, Detective?" She ran her pinky along the edge of her glass, dipping it slightly into the liquid before bringing it to her mouth.

In spite the sophistication that cloaked Annie, she looked extremely vulnerable at that moment. Her action under normal circumstances would have been a natural prelude to an intimate moment between them-like a kiss. But he knew she wasn't aware of the alluring quality of her movements. She didn't seem the type to purposely tease a man using seductive coyness. In fact, she seemed a thousand miles away.

The shower had done her good. She looked refreshed and sexy as hell in faded cut-off jeans that left her shapely, slender legs bare all the way to the tops of her suntanned thighs. A sleeveless top completed her casual look, something thin and airy that tied beneath her breasts, emphasizing their perky shape.

And I'd thought there wasn't enough there to fill my hands?

A tingle of awareness surged through his blood, warming him more than any wine. The throbbing erection behind his zipper demanded he do something about it.

He hadn't denied her comments about being horny. Hell, she'd hit the nail right on the head, but she was the one making him that way, turning him inside out. When Michelle had kissed him and pressed her body against his, he'd felt nothing. Not a twinge of the old passion had resurfaced.

All Annie had to do to turn him hard was be in the same room with him, like now. He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew how she was affecting him. If she knew how much he wanted to strip her naked and slide into her welcoming body.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

CZECH MATE by Sloane Taylor

Contemporary Romance

Life isn't easy for aspiring interior designer Lacey Blake when she finds herself stranded in Prague dressed like a dolled up hooker for her fetish minded, soon to be ex, boyfriend. The cash-strapped American traveler, boasting a feather boa and stilettos that would make a dominatrix cry, is saved by an intriguing offer proposed by a staid giant in a sleek Armani suit. It doesn’t take long to convince herself there’s nothing like a sex-fest to get the most out of a free vacation.

Dragan Petrovic is determined his 5-star hotel will retain its unblemished reputation and no prostitute will kickoff her career in his lobby. But one look into her eyes and he knows there is more to her than a micro mini and a push up bra. The urge to protect her drives him to madness when he suggests an unusual scheme that stirs up deep desires and alters their lives forever.

Lacey is hot and ready for action when she accepts Dragon’s offer, and to relieve the sexual tension between them, takes the matter in hand…


...Lacey lifted out a teetering stack of silky looking items. Lingerie? A light blue bra encased with what must be rhinestones slid to the floor, quickly followed by the matching lacey bikini panties.

“What are these?” Dragan knelt next to her, blood pounding through his veins as he captured the delicate cloth in his hands.

“My undies.” She continued to rummage, spilling more silken items onto the carpet.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Uncomfortable?”

“Surprisingly, no.” She giggled, her creamy skin taking on a rosy glow as she dipped her head lower to the suitcase. “Damn it, where is it?”

A vision of her dressed only in the intimate garments and those sexy high heels strapped to her ankles flooded his mind, sending jolts of electricity south.

His stiff cock, which seemed to be its normal posture in her presence, swelled larger as she walked toward him, its throbbing head anxious to be deep inside her, wrapped in her wet heat. The tips of her hard nipples shoved against the silky fabric of her bra, their outline a beacon to his aching member. His fingers itched to caress the soft mounds, rising over the miniscule rhinestone-studded cups, and tongue her hard nipples. He could almost feel the erotic sensation when he released them, mounted her and slid his cock between their firm flesh.

She stepped closer, drawing his attention lower to her shapely hips. Mesmerized, he watched them sway, the movement seductive, sensual, compelling him to taste her.

The clear gems sprinkled across her sheer panties twinkled in the dim light. He licked his dry lips. The burning desire to kiss the lacey vee at the apex of her thighs, suckle her clit through the thin material and graze a finger along her folds brought sweat to his brow.

She slid the bra straps down her shoulders. His heart thudded, banging against his ribcage. He stood…

“Earth to Vic. Come in, Vic.” A hand shook his shoulder, returning him to the present. “Um, you might want to let go, big time.”

He glanced down at his hands, wadding her undergarments into a knot. Kersati. Fuck, what the hell could he say to her and not appear to be an old lecher? “I apologize. My mind must have taken a short vacation.”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. Don’t even think I’ll buy that one, big guy.”

Dragan pursed his lips, not sure how to determine the best way to measure Lacey’s shapely body without appearing to molest her, especially after making a fool of himself over her delicate underwear. He did not trust himself to hold back, and not wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she begged him to make love to her.

Kersati, how the hell could he have become so affected by this young woman in a matter of an hour? He looked at her, his hands fisted tight at his sides.

“Do you have a tape measure?”

He shook his head, not trusting the right words to travel past his lips.

A grin spread across her face and carried to her bright hazel eyes, eyes that seemed to see deep into his soul.

“Then how do you plan to do this? String? Belt?” Her voice echoed the humor radiating from her face. “Silk scarves?”

He looked at his raised hands, the fingers spread wide as if he were testing melons in the market. Disgusted by his absurd action, he jammed them into his trouser pockets.

“It’s not going to happen if you don’t make it happen.” She reached for his wrists. When he dug them deeper into his pockets, she laughed. Kersati, his balls were drawn so tight they hurt...


Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
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Sunday, October 3, 2010

Behind the Scenes by G.R. Richards

About Behind the Scenes
by GR Richards
39 pages / 9300 words
Ebook zipped file contains - html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub

When theatrical designer Brandon takes sewing whiz Matheus under his wing, the attraction is instantaneous. From their very first kiss, Matheus knows this relationship will get serious. After two years of working and living together as a married couple, Brandon is offered a too-good-to-be-true job designing for a summer festival. Matheus intends to go with him until he's offered Brandon's old job at the Studio theatre.

The marriage goes long-distance. Just when Matheus misses his husband most, a flirtatious new assistant lands in his lap. Though he's tantalized, Matheus refuses cute Carver's advances. He takes his marriage vows seriously. When Carver suggests "introducing a third into the relationship," Matheus weakens. Would it still be cheating if Brandon were to join in?

Brandon was the hottest guy I'd ever met. I loved his confidence. Guys with a strong sense of what they wanted made me sizzle. After simultaneously talking and painting the night away, we retreated to the actors' dressing room. There was a sink in the multi-mirrored space where we could wash our brushes. That's where Brandon made it eminently clear he wanted me.

At the time, I didn't tell him he was the first guy I'd allowed to see me naked. In fact, that's not something I ever wanted him know. It was pure ego, I guess. I didn't want him to think of me as inexperienced. I'd sucked a lot of cock in my day, but nobody'd ever been in my pants. The moment he came up behind me and grabbed my junk, I knew that was about to change. I looked into the mirror, into his rugged pixie face behind me, and dropped the wet brushes in the sink. As much as I wanted to keep staring into those smouldering faux-French eyes, I wanted to kiss him ten times more.

The moment I turned, his tongue slipped into my mouth like a sea serpent. It thrashed at everything it came up against as Brandon explored the flesh underneath my top. I loved his hands for loving my skin and I touched his face to tell him so. He flipped on the mirror lights and turned off the fluorescents in the ceiling. The room glowed with star-studded ambience, but at three in the morning, it was only for us. As I leaned back against the dressing table, Brandon leaned into me. He wrapped me in his arms and I felt his hard cock against my belly.

I took a chance and unclipped his paint-spattered overalls.

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Saturday, October 2, 2010

Seducing Light by KC Kendricks

Contemporary gay romance


Asher Myles struggled to put his life back together after an identity thief stripped him of everything but his talent for capturing light and shadow with a camera lens. With a new job and a new start, Asher’s on his way to Montana – and a meeting with the man he’s fantasized about since he first saw him on the silver screen.

Nick Light, actor, director, and Hollywood royalty, doesn’t like paparazzi. When he agrees to have his Montana ranch photographed for a style magazine, the unexpected happens. Asher's not the man Nick expected to find behind the camera.

Asher knows he'll have to convince Nick they belong together, but he has an edge.

Because if there’s one thing Nick can’t resist, it’s a man with a talent for seducing light.

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Nick stopped on the porch and turned around, putting one large hand in the middle of my chest. No bolt of lightning from the approaching storm could have singed me more. Suddenly he was flesh-and-blood man to me, not a movie star.

“Hold on a minute, Myles. Let’s get one thing straight before you invade my space.”

I nodded. Hell, I’d agree to anything he wanted.

“Your equipment stays in the case until I tell you that you can get it out. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Nick opened the door to the house, and I followed him inside. He set the case down in the spacious, two-story foyer and motioned for me to tag along behind him. The hallway opened into the grandest kitchen I’d ever seen. Taking up the entire southwest corner of the house, the room was modern, warm, and inviting. Bay windows with red and white gingham covered cushions on the window seats flanked the massive stone fireplace.

My photographer’s eye filled the room with afternoon sunlight. I had a vision of Nick Light sitting at the table in the large bay of windows, in that sunshine, smiling at me. That would be a money shot I’d never share with anyone. His voice, sharp with annoyance, brought me out of my reverie.

“Do you want something to drink, or not?”

I squared my shoulders and replied I’d take a soft drink, cola, if he had it. He nodded and pointed at the oak table in the sunny corner breakfast nook.
“Set your notebook up. I want to see your work.”

Nick placed a full lead crystal tumbler down in front of me as my laptop booted. I thanked him and drank, grateful for the cold, dark liquid fizzing its way down my parched throat. He spun the computer to face him, typed in his access code for his wireless connection, and turned it back to me.
I cleared my throat and typed the URL for my website.

“Okay, Mr. Light, here’s a little—”

“Nick. Call me Nick.”

I nodded, and hoped I didn’t stutter when I tried to say his name for the first time. “Nick. I’ll just point out that all my professional information is on the website and move on to the photos.”

“I see you have references. Are they valid?”

Fuck. He had heard the stories.

I rolled the cursor over the link and the page opened for him to see. He read the names, then nodded. “I don’t know any of them, so you won’t mind if I call them, right?”

“Sure. Call ’em. Just don’t be surprised if they don’t believe you’re Nick Light.”

He snorted again, the corner of his mouth quirking up in what might actually be a little smile. “I get that a lot, boy.”

I didn’t answer, just clicked on the slideshow and leaned back to watch it with him. His focus shifted to the screen. I watched him as the pictures scrolled. Every so often, he’d nod or cock his head, but he didn’t speak. We sat there in silence as the clouds slid past the sun and the rain dribbled down the outside of the windows. Finally, he spoke.

“Okay. You’re good. But with your reputation, how’d you get this job?”

I met his gaze. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me.”

His chin lifted. His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not true.”

Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me your version of it then.”
My temper flared. “I was hired to do a job—take a photo shoot of your ranch. I have a copy of the contract in my case, and nowhere in that contract does it say I owe you any explanations.”

His response was unexpected. “You want that sandwich now, boy?”

Tired of him referring to me as “boy,” I shot him a look, and froze at the glittering curiosity in his eyes. He studied me, his green gaze a mix of wary caution, grudging respect, and more. I fell into those mystical depths, forgetting to breathe as the blood pooled in my groin.

My heart stuttered, then hammered in my chest. I couldn’t look away, even as my face grew hot under his scrutiny. My cock swelled, rising as the phantom of my nights stared at me with witchy interest.

Nick Light was gay.

ISBN: ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-530-0
#3 best seller at Amber Allure, June 2009

KC Kendricks
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