Thursday, February 26, 2015

Mischief at Midnight by Rayne Forrest

Madelyn Murphy isn’t your typical spoiled rich girl. She only has one household drone, after all. Why? Because she’s so liberal, she does her own cooking.

Triple D Drones’ owner, Dallas Dyson, has made a fortune in the service drone industry. He’ll even lend a helping hand himself if someone’s in a pinch.

When Madelyn’s service drone breaks just before a dinner party, she calls Triple D Drones for help. When the new “Dallas” prototype shows up to lend a hand, Madelyn finds she needs help with more than serving dinner. Isn’t service what a Triple D drone does best?

EXCERPT from Mischief at Midnight

Dallas Dyson had weathered his fair share of calamities, but this one threatened to expand far beyond the initial predictions. A tiny, fifty-cent relay wreaked havoc across his multi-billion-dollar, service-drone empire. The years it had taken to build his company into the industry standard, the long hours, hard work, and personal sacrifices would all be for nothing if he didn’t manage this crisis very carefully.
Almost eighty-percent of the Hazel I model drones around the world equipped with the Gamma Del Royce upgrade had crashed and burned. His screen lit up with information about the incoming caller, identifying her as one Madelyn Murphy. Damn. This customer had a GDR equipped original Hazel. He took a deep breath and forced his lips into a smile.
“Triple D Drones. May I help you?”
Dark hair, dark eyes, the pale complexion of someone who took care not to allow sun damage to her skin, and a smudge of…Was that a parsley leaf on her otherwise perfect nose? Dallas discretely zoomed in for a closer look.
It was a basil leaf on her nose and olive oil in her hair. This didn’t bode well for the condition of her drone. The GDR upgrade involved Hazel’s cooking protocols.
Her full lower lip quivered. A drop of olive oil broke free and dripped from her bangs. Her eyes rounded in horror as she swiped her hand over her face.
“Oh, dear. I must look a fright,” she murmured. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re a drone.”
Drone? Not the last time he checked, he wasn’t. Last night, he’d been flesh and blood man as he sweated through his workout at the gym. His shoulders and thighs still ached from the punishment he inflicted on his body to keep it in shape. He checked her account.
She didn’t own a Triple D personal pleasure drone, but that didn’t mean some of her friends didn’t, which would explain why she thought him a drone. Not for the first time, he cursed his vast stupidity in basing the appearance of the Trent personal pleasure model on his own features.
Dallas quickly gave her the good and bad on her drone, his mind racing as it tried to come up with a temporary replacement for her.
“Ms. Murphy, we have isolated the problem with the Hazel I model with the most recent food preparation upgrade. However, we’re waiting for the repair part to become available.”
Her lovely face carefully arranged itself into a bland expression. She blinked rapidly, several times, her long, thick eyelashes dampened.
Dallas knew from experience to choose his next words carefully else he’d fall into the bottomless pit of feminine desperation. A woman’s tears sent him to his knees, every time, and this one hovered on the verge of major flooding.
“However, I’m available to assist you in any capacity necessary.”
He’d not planned on saying that. Good lord, how had that spilled from his lips? He’d lost his mind!
She stared at him, astonishment holding the tears at bay. He watched, mesmerized as the tip of her tongue flicked over her full lips. She cleared her throat—twice.
“I need an emergency replacement that can assist with preparation and serving a very important dinner party in…” She checked her watch. “Four hours. I need the replacement to arrive immediately.”
Insanity seized him, sucker punched him right in the gut and he didn’t even feel the blow until it was too late to dodge it
“I am trained as a chef, ma’am, and as a server with full host protocols. I will arrive in approximately thirty minutes.”
What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t impersonate a drone!
She nodded, forging brusquely ahead. “I’ll expect you to be prompt. Thirty minutes. Please be prepared to remain on call until my Hazel is repaired.” She pursed her lips. “And…um…activate your level five personal interaction chip before arriving.”
Dallas’ stomach plunged nervously even as his body sent out urgent, greedy pleas that he fulfill that level five personal interaction request to the best of his ability. After all, hadn’t he invented what was frequently called the ‘love machine’ chip? Hadn’t it made him a very wealthy man?
Before he could say another word, his screen blanked as Madelyn severed the link, eliminating the opportunity for him to tell her the truth before he reported for the assignment. Only one option remained.
Tough it out.

Mischief at Midnight is available at Amazon

Mischief at Midnight was previously published as part of a two author anthology. 

Rayne Forrest

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

It was late when he decided to call it a night. Rather than take the risk of the animal possibly attacking him while he slept, Joshua slipped a rope around the wolf's neck and tied the other end to a chair. Taking an empty coffee can, he threw in a few rocks, and set the can on the seat. Although the animal was strong enough to move the chair, the sound of its struggle would awaken him in time to protect himself. However, to be on the safe side, Joshua placed his pistol on the sofa, close at hand.
            The animal complacently watched him take precautions. Its only movements were its brown eyes as it observed him.
            After refreshing the fire, and bringing in more wood to last through the night, Joshua grabbed the blankets from the back bedroom to settle himself on the couch. Inevitably, he drifted into restless sleep.
            What 'cha got for us, Sarge?
            Hey, Coburn! Anything look suspicious up ahead?
            No, sir. Road's clear. Just some old guy with a jackass walking along the shoulder.
            A what?
            He's carrying a load of wood, Sarge.
            I don't like the looks of it. Give him a wide berth anyway.
            Hey, what's he doing?
            Why is he stepping in front of us?
            It's a trap, Sergeant!
            Stop the truck! Get off the road!
            IED! Suicide bomber!
            Swerve! Swerve!
            Joshua jerked away at the sound of the explosion. At the memory that temporarily deafened him a heartbeat before the flames roared through the vehicle, incinerating his team and nearly killing him.
            He lay on the couch, trembling, sweat coating his skin as he fought the visions that filled his mind with the horrendous nightmare. Gasping for air, he tried to sit up, but his muscles had suddenly gone weak. He was totally incapacitated, unable to move, unable to call out for help. Unable to save himself or the others.
            There was a movement to the side. Instantly, his brain clicked, reminding him of the wild creature lying a few feet away. His fingers sought the comfort of the pistol as he listened for more movement. For the telltale rattle of the can of rocks as the wolf tried to free itself from its noose. But after another minute, he heard nothing more.
            The fire was low, but not to where he felt he needed to put on more wood. He'd do that later. Right now he was comfortable. Vague, non-threatening shadows filled the room. The gentle heat felt good on his face.
            Joshua closed his eyes. Maybe the wolf was just turning over in its sleep, he told himself. Maybe its leg is hurting. Or it could have heard something outside that alerted it.
            Whatever caused the wolf to make a sound, it had pulled him away from the monstrous shadows of pain and guilt that plagued him. For that, he was grateful.            
            Wolf, you've earned your keep tonight. I gotta grant you that.
            He relaxed his grip on the gun and willed himself to relax. To go back to sleep where, hopefully, he wouldn't have to fight any more demons. At least, not for the rest of the night.
            He adjusted his butt against the cushions, when he heard the noise again. A soft sound, like something shifting or moving along the floor. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened his eyes, prepared to prop himself up on one elbow and glance over the arm rest near his feet, to see if he could tell what the wolf was doing.
            A woman stood there. Tall and shapely, her naked skin glowed faintly in the firelight. She was smiling at him as she brushed back her untamed hair. Joshua gasped, when she raised a finger to her lips. "Shhh."
            "Who... Where did you come from?" His fingers immediately curled around his pistol.
            "You are dreaming," she whispered. She had a slight accent. One he couldn't pinpoint. But it only enhanced her mysterious nature.
            "Dreaming? No, I'm not."
            "Yes. You are." She nodded.
            "I can't be. I don't know you. How can I be dreaming of someone I've never met?"
            She smiled enigmatically. Full lips in a pixie face. Wide, almost round eyes. In the dank light, he could see the gentle curves of her body. Her high, full breasts with their dark tips. The thatch between her legs was below the level of the arm rest, and he was tempted to sit up just to catch a glimpse of it, knowing it would be the same color as the unkempt, wild hair on her head. She was young, but not a child.
            "Where did you come from?" he demanded in a low voice.
            "From here." She tapped her temple.
            Joshua shook his head. "No," he denied again. "People like you are never in my dreams. People die in mine."
            "Not anymore." She placed her hands on the arm rest and started to come around the side. It was at that moment when she limped that he blinked in disbelief.
            "Shhh. What is your name?"
            But he wouldn't let it go. "Who are you?"
            "Tell me your name first."
            "Joshua." She tilted her head to one side as she sat down by his stocking feet. "I like it. It's a strong name."
            "Tell me yours. Then tell me what you are and why you're here."
            That little voice inside his head was yelling at him. Warning him. But this time Joshua knew the warning had nothing to do with self-preservation.
            The woman reached beneath the blankets and ran her hand up his leg. The pressure was firm, and his body responded with a vengeance. Joshua struggled to sit up as she reached his crotch. Her hand gently grasped his thick erection that bulged above his groin. She squeezed, and his body jerked in reaction. His lightning-fast reflexes kicked in, and he snatched her by the wrist. Her skin was warm. The bones felt fragile. But she was definitely real.
            "Who are you?" he almost growled.
            "Qitirin. My name is Qitirin."

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Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Sexy Just Got Rich: Brit Babes Do Billionaires

Heart pounding and palms clammy, Catriona forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and walked into the bookshop. It was bedlam. She’d never seen a bookshop so busy in her life.

She paused just inside the door. What the fuck was she doing? If someone saw her, recognised her—

She shook her head sharply and clenched her fists until her fingernails dug into her flesh, the nipping pain bringing her back to her senses.

No one would recognise her, she reminded herself, because no one knew who she was. Well, people knew who she was—but not in relation to the reason she was here.

Taking a deep breath and attempting to behave like a normal person, she continued through the shop, trying to figure out where she needed to be. Not that she even needed to be here at all. It was insanity that had drawn her out of her Thames-side apartment and into the bowels of the Tube, and finally into the huge Piccadilly bookstore.

What else but insanity would make a person head into central London to buy a copy of a book on the same day it came out? Especially when one already had a large box of copies of said book stuffed into the bottom of one’s wardrobe. Complimentary author copies, according to the note from the publisher.

Maybe it was curiosity, she thought, as she joined the back of the queue snaking across the ground floor of the shop. Nobody nearby was holding a copy of the book yet, so she assumed that somewhere between here and the till there was a stack of the paperbacks, ready to be picked up and paid for. And presumably read. Christ.

Surreptitiously, Catriona pinched the back of her hand. Wincing, she figured she had to get her head around this situation, and fast. It was only going to get bigger and crazier—or so the publisher’s marketing team, a bunch of young, attractive and scarily glamorous people, had told her.

She’d already seen plenty of evidence of their expenditure on the way over—billboards, bus shelters, ads on the Underground; all displaying huge versions of her book cover, proclaiming it a bestseller, quoting stellar reviews and even lauding it “the next big thing” and “the next Fifty Shades of Grey.” One strap line even said “Who needs Christian Grey when you’ve got Eliza Dickinson?”

It was the fact that her book had even been compared to the first big thing that she couldn’t quite grasp.

The Fifty Shades phenomenon had spawned merchandise, sex toys and even a film. But it was just a one-off, wasn’t it? Something that couldn’t be replicated, shouldn’t be replicated.

Catriona certainly hadn’t set out to write a book to appeal to the same readership. All she’d done was take out her real life frustrations—both sexual and otherwise—on the keyboard of her laptop. The rest had simply been a freak of nature.

How could it appeal to the same readership, anyway? Her characters were the complete opposite of E.L. James’—her lead female, Eliza, was a dominatrix, and Leon her willing sub. Or he was by the end of the book, anyway.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Her book was out, today, and what happened next was completely out of her hands. She should just relax and go with the flow. Though she still couldn’t get over the fact that people were not only buying her book—they were queuing to buy it. Patiently, too, despite the glacial speed at which they were moving forward. Did they only have one till open, or something?

People had joined the line behind her as she’d been ruminating, and she shuffled around slightly so she could see how many more were waiting. Shit—there were loads! She couldn’t even see the end of the queue.

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because the man behind her let out a chuckle. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he said. “All these people waiting to buy a book when we could have purchased online—probably cheaper—and had it delivered directly to our doors. Or in a single click, have it appear on our eReaders.”

Catriona hadn’t even thought of that. So, not only were people here, in the bookstore—and presumably stores all over the country, too—they were buying online, loading up eReaders… all for her little book!

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Hot, Wet, and Wild

“Hot, Wet, Wild” blurb:
Gwyn moves down to the beach, and once again, she has a hot thing going with Zac and Parker. But then she gets a series of legal letters about her house, her garden, and her lifestyle. Clearly, someone doesn’t want her there.
Some expensive equipment goes missing from the golf course where Zac’s a groundsman, and he’s let go from his job. Parker and Gwyn try to soothe him with mind-boggling sex and help him search for the missing equipment. Their love sustains him, but who's responsible?
Parker hopes the three of them can move in together and be a real family. Will they ever be together for more than the occasional wild night?


“How long are you down for, Parker?” she asked, hoping he’d say the full month.
“I’ve moved down here to live. I got sick of you two always telling me how good life here was, compared to the big city, so I applied for the manager’s job at The Beachfront Motel and got it. So now I’m a gen-u-ine, one-hundred-percent native.”
“Woo hoo! That’s awesome news.” Gwyn threw herself against his muscular chest for another hug, and Zac joined them, pressing his cock into her ass as he hugged them both in his big arms.
“Mmm.” She pushed her ass back into Zac’s cock then pressed her belly forward into Parker’s. Oh yeah, he was happy to see them both again.
“How would you both like to come to my place and see the bookshelf I just built today?” she suggested.
“Isn’t the guy supposed to ask the gal to see his etchings?” said Zac.
“Do you have any etchings?” Parker asked.
“Actually, no. Guess we’d better go look at Gwyn’s bookshelf instead.”
Laughing they collected their things, ran up the dune, crossed the dirt road, and walked into Gwynnyth’s front yard. “Hey, this is looking good. Your folks had let the yard get kinda overrun with that creeper stuff, but the garden looks great now,” said Parker.
“Yeah, took a couple months of hard work, but it’s worth it.”
“Freaking knotweed. We’re always on the lookout for it at the golf course. Can’t let it get a hold there,” added Zac.
She unlocked the front door and let the men precede her inside. Zac hadn’t seen the living area since she’d painted it, and she wanted to hear his reaction as well as Parker’s.
“Hey it looks so much lighter, brighter. What have you done?” asked Zac.
She didn’t answer, waiting for them to work it out.
“The clunky, dark window blinds are gone,” said Parker.
Zac shook his head and swiveled around looking at everything. Parker had obviously decided he’d solved the problem and wandered over to look at her bookshelf in the corner. He thumped a fist against the sides, and the bookshelf hardly wobbled at all. Gwyn was inordinately pleased with herself.
Parker stared at the wall behind the shelf. Zac was staring at the walls now, too. Almost together they said, “That horrible dark blue paint’s gone.”
“The walls. You’ve repainted the walls.”
Parker and Zac looked at each other and laughed. “We always did think alike. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Zac.
“I reckon so. Are you going to show us what changes you’ve made in the bedroom, Gwyn?”
Suddenly the room seemed to be enveloped in a fog of lust. Heat that had nothing to do with the outside temperature rushed through Gwyn. The crotch of her swimwear dampened with her honey and she longed to feel both Zac and Parker inside her again. Parker’s teeny tiny swimwear was struggling to contain his cock, and Zac had a most impressive bulge in the front of his board shorts. She turned and walked down the short hallway to the bedroom.

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Berengaria Brown

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Naughty Hearts: A boxed set of Twelve Naughty Valentine's Stories

NAUGHTY BALLS by Suz deMello
Two college basketball players find themselves alone on V-Day evening. (M/F)

LOVE POTION #69 by Alexa Silver
When Keith and Jenna accidentally fall under the spell of one of her Valentine’s Day love potions, lust is in the air!

All I want for Valentine’s Day is to get barbed by a feline shifter and act out a few of the naughty twin fantasies getting me hot and bothered.

VALENTIME by Belle Scarlett
Valerie buys a South Carolina plantation and discovers a Valentine addressed to her from a previous owner who bids her to return to him in 1865.

Gadzooks! Valentine’s Day is fast approaching – what’s a scientist to do? Edward knows naught of romance. Can steam power prevail over chocolates to win Delia’s heart?

A booker at a top model agency learns she’s anything but ordinary when two sexy photographers point their lenses—and more—at her.

UNDER THE HOOD by Lainey-Jo Charles
How do you choose between an online crush you’ve never met and a secret crush that you have? Maybe you don’t have to…

BUY ME A ROSE by Francesca Hawley
Jessica and Nathaniel Whitewolf celebrate their thirtieth anniversary as True Mates but they’ve lost their bond. Now a hot couples’ retreat will get it back.

Jake refuses to talk to Matt after he was very late on Christmas Eve. Matt’s determined to reconnect with Jake on Valentine’s Day.

CUPID’S CURIOUS CASE by Marianne Stephens
Alan’s last job as Cupid 84 involves neighbor Amy and a special box of candy. Both secretly desire the other. Can they find true love?

Dumped on Valentine’s Day! Melissa only thinks the day can’t get any worse. Until she damages her hot neighbor’s car, and he demands unexpected compensation.

THE REAPER’S VALENTINE by Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Sometimes a Reaper has to do what a Reaper does. It would be wise for a life-mate to remember that!

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“Chocolate-Coated Reunion” by Berengaria Brown
Matt has arranged to meet Jake for Christmas Eve drinks after work. Matt has hopes this will be the start of a relationship for them. But his boss, Clauson, drops a huge pile of work on his desk at the last minute and he misses the last bus home. As well as having kept Jake waiting so long, he now discovers he’s left his wallet and cell phone on his desk in his rush to catch the bus.
Jake refused to talk to him or forgive him. As Valentine’s Day approaches Matt is determined to reconnect with Jake. But is Jake too hurt and disillusioned to forgive him?

No matter how many times Jake told himself not to get his hopes up, to keep his expectations low so he couldn't get hurt again, he couldn't stop his heart beating faster every time he thought about meeting Matt. His cock was as hard as a rock, pushing the front of his jeans out of shape, and his hands were sweaty with tension despite the cold air.
First he told himself to stay home until at least noon, so he wouldn't be the one sitting alone, waiting for hours at the bar. Then he told himself he'd stay out in the parking lot until ten after twelve before entering Benny's. But despite all his arguments with himself here he was, standing in the doorway at ten before noon.
And there was Matt, sitting at a table for two by the window, his arm raised in a wave to catch Jake's attention.
Jake's face split wide in a grin and his feet started walking of their own volition. Jake told himself to act cool, walk slowly, don't smile, don't be over-eager, but his body wasn't listening.
Matt stood up and pulled Jake into a full body hug. Jake could feel Matt's erection grinding against his. Shit, they were both hugely aroused. How could that be? This was their first date. Well, the first date they'd both attended anyway.
Jake sank into his chair, unable to break off eye contact with Matt. The man was beautiful, his face flushed, his eyes sparkling and filled with lust. Just exactly the way Jake was feeling, too.
In fact, his cock was trying to drive a hole in his pants to get out and play. He really needed to get a grip on himself. That or undo his zipper to give his equipment room to move.

Berengaria Brown