Wallflower Gone Wild

Sex Up Your Sunday with Jacey Holbrand!

6/18/2017

Well, here we are, folks. Another Sunday is upon us! It's gloriously sunny here in Cambridge and I am currently loafing around in my dressing gown enjoying a tranquil, birdsong-filled morning with Beth Ditto's new album. I'm putting together a playlist for Wild Blood MC 3 and lazily browsing Amazon for new books. And speaking of new books, here's one you MC romance lovers won't want to miss!

Hey folks! Today I'm happy to announce that I finally have another story out! It's called Possessed by Him and is the first book in a new series: Helldorado Mongrels MC. But first a little about me...

~ * ~ BIO ~ * ~

Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world.

Jacey loves to hear from readers! Click the link to eMail her: JaceyHolbrand@gmail.com

~ * ~ STALK ~ * ~

Website/Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Facebook Page

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~

This story is the first book in my series called Helldorado Mongrels MC. The series follows different immortal shifter families, a couple of humans, and the quest for stolen gold. It takes place in southern Nevada. I’ve been toying with the idea for this series for the past few years after catching an episode of Haunted Highway on Syfy regarding the Hellhounds of Eldorado Canyon.

In book one, Possessed by Him, two human brothers are returning to the canyon where, as teenagers, they had a frightening experience in a gold mine when confronted with wolves. Cameron, one of the heroes of this story, also can’t stop thinking of a man who’s been invading his dreams for years since the incident and is surprised when he comes face to face with him in the flesh.

Cameron and dream man, Gabe, are hitting it off and the trip is going pretty well until Cameron is kidnapped by a member of the Helldorado Mongrels MC.

Want to know what happens when Cameron finds out the guy he’s super attracted to is an immortal wolf shifter and if he escapes the Mongrels? Well, you’ll just have to read the book now, won’t you? *wink*

~ * ~ BLURB ~ * ~

Forced to return to a place of childhood trauma, Cameron Russell fears he’ll have to confront the specter of the past once again. Instead, he comes face to face with the man of his dreams. Literally.

Unbeknownst to Cameron, Gabriel Dyson would do anything to help his human mate realize his destiny, including playing savior and invading Cameron’s dreams. When they finally meet face to face, all seems to go well. Then a member of the Helldorado Mongrels MC kidnaps Cameron, putting Cameron in mortal danger again.

While restrained, Cameron is told a fantastical story of werewolves, which has to be myth…right? Yet memories flare to life—visions of bites and kisses—making him question everything about Gabe.

Can Cameron and Gabe’s cosmic connection, their choices, and their love surpass the secrets Gabe has and the Mongrels’ evil plans?

Be Warned: m/m sex, anal sex, outdoor sex, language, violence

~ * ~ ADULT EXCERPT ~ * ~

He ran his hands up Cameron’s smooth chest, tracing the dips and curves of his muscles. When Gabe latched onto one of Cameron’s hard nubs, Cameron sucked in a stream of air. Putting his lips on Cameron’s body was like heaven and hell. Heaven because it’d been ages since he tasted and touched his other half in the flesh. Hell because all he wanted to do was bite him and make him his for as long as their lives would last.

More heat raced through Gabe’s veins and down into his cock, making it rock hard. He gazed straight into Cameron’s blue-gray eyes. “God, I want you, Cameron. I want you to take me in that beautiful mouth of yours.”

“With pleasure.”

Cameron dropped to his knees in front of him, reached out and yanked his jeans down and off his body.

“Spread your legs, Gabe.”

He did as Cameron requested. His cock protruded from his body, bobbing to and fro as he settled into a shoulder-width stance. Staring down upon him as Cameron positioned himself between his thighs and stroked, licked, and kissed his cock and balls, Gabe tilted his head back, loving the way Cameron took command of his body, his senses. The deep blue sky fell from sight as did the rest of the mountain’s view. Gabe closed his eyes to savor the exquisite feel of Cameron’s moist, warm mouth on his shaft.

“You’re incredible.” He stroked Cameron’s head.

Cameron licked his way off his cock, grasped it in a semi-closed fist and pumped his hand as he stared at him. “So are you. This cock?” He lapped the bead of pre-cum that’d beaded on the tip. “Amazing.” He dipped down once more to Gabe’s crotch, taking his whole cock into his mouth.

Lusty pleasure flooded Gabe, making him ravenous for the man who moved to suck his balls. “Cameron, I want to taste you.” He tugged at him to have him stand, but Cameron wouldn’t budge.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Cameron drew his tongue along Gabe’s cock.

Gabe sucked in a thin stream of air. He couldn’t believe how wonderful the blow job felt, the wet mouth against his silky shaft. It’d been ages since he last had his mate in the flesh and experienced such intimacy with him. Though fucking Cameron’s mouth wasn’t like being balls deep in his ass. He wanted to howl at the sky with happiness.

Yet, the truth about his shifting capability and immortality hung heavy over his head. He pondered if what they were doing constituted their relationship solidifying. Probably not. Which meant it still wasn’t time to tell Cameron everything. But then, if he waited too long, Cameron might not like that either. Cameron could accuse him of being secretive. He released a big sigh.

Cameron slurped off his length. “You okay, Gabe?”

“Yeah.” He paused and glanced down at the man kneeling before him. Perhaps it would be best to just lay everything out at the start and see what happens. “Actually, there is something important I need to explain to you before our relationship develops further.”

Cameron stood and brushed the dirt off his knees. “All right. Should I be concerned?”

“No. I don’t believe so. Just some family history and—”

Rocks tumbling along the ground and off the cliff several feet away snatched Gabe’s focus. He sniffed the air. No scents that he could determine. That didn’t mean anything though since anti-scent repellants were in use by the Helldorado Mongrels.

~ * ~ BUY Jacey Holbrand’s BOOKS ~ * ~

Evernight Publishing ## Amazon ## Apple ## Barnes & Noble ## BookStrand ## Kobo ## Smashwords

~ * ~

Thank you for having me on your blog, and readers, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! <3 Jacey

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Sex Up Your Sunday with Ravenna Tate!

6/11/2017

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Good afternoon, folks! Have you all been good girls and boys this week? Yes? No? Well, either way, we're in for a spanking today! Ravenna Tate is here with the first in her new series, The Spanking Experiments - PADDLED BY THE TEACHERS. Assume the position...

PADDLED BY THE TEACHER

The Spanking Experiments 1

  **Click HERE to purchase 

directly from Evernight Publishing**

Chelsea Anderson has entertained fantasies of being spanked and paddled all her adult life. But until she found an ad on a BDSM site, seeking participants for a survey on impact play, she had given up hope of fulfilling those fantasies in real life. Intimate relationships haven’t worked out for Chelsea. She feels like a freak because of her secret desires, and because of her poor body image, she doesn’t believe herself lovable.

Slade Taylor, the Dom at Sensations who introduces her to impact play during one erotic night at the club, is everything she’s ever dreamed of. Handsome, charming, and in control. Slade also has been unlucky in love, but would a man like him be interested in anything beyond this experiment with her? Is it possible Chelsea has finally found the man of her dreams?

EXCERPT

He kisses me, tongue and all, and I’m lost in the dizzying sensation of strong arms enfolding me while that magical mouth works over mine. His dick is rock hard again, and I move my hips against it, rocking them forward and backward, until I’m so damn wet the juices trickle down my thighs.

“Chelsea…” His whisper sends shivers down my spine. That incredible mouth moves to my neck, where he plants tiny bites up and down my jawline. I want to fuck him so badly I taste it.

“Where do you want to be for this? The cross again? One of the benches?” He grasps my breasts and dips his head, licking the nipples with long, slow strokes. “I can’t wait to see these clamped.”

“Wherever you want me.” Thinking is impossible. Breathing is difficult. Speaking is a chore.

“Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me toward a bowed leather bench. I’ve been intrigued with this one since spying it when I first came into the room. “This might be too intense for you since you’ll be restrained and completely open to me.”

“I’ll be all right. Thank you for asking.”

The expression on his face is tender. “Your care is my concern.”

I like this. A lot. “Is it really this easy?”

Confusion fills his eyes. “Is what really this easy?”

“Being a submissive.”

“Everyone’s dynamic is different. If you were my sub, we’d work new things in over time, once you were ready. But of course, that would depend on what you enjoyed, and what didn’t do it for you.”

“What about you? What does it for you?”

Every time he grins, I want to get on my knees and beg him to fuck me. Hard. “I’ve already told you my two favorite things, Chelsea, and we’ve done them both. The rest is icing on the cake.”

After he assists me into a comfortable position on the bench, and both my wrists and ankles are restrained with soft leather, I understand what he meant about this being intense. It’s that, plus it puts me into a vulnerable position. My arms and legs are spread wide, and my hips are arched upward slightly. The bench itself can be raised or lowered, lending all sorts of decadent possibilities to what he will do with me and to me.

He makes a show out of circling me on the bench, that sexy grin on his face. When he pulls gently on his cock, I yell in frustration. “Please…”

“What do you want, Chelsea? Tell me.” The movement of his hand up and down his shaft grows faster. Tiny beads of pre-cum are visible at the tip. I lick my lips. “Tell me in detail what you want me to do to you, or I will stand here and beat off in front of you.”

“Oh!” This isn’t just teasing. The truth is in his eyes.

“I told you. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean.”

Speak now, fool! “Flog my nipples. With a softer flogger, please. Hit them. With … with your hands, and with a soft toy. Put clamps on them. Flog my pussy. Paddle my pussy.”

A huge, wicked grin slowly spreads over his face as I confess my secret desires. “What else? You’re not done. There’s more in your eyes.”

Shit. I have to say it. There’s no way around this. He senses it, and will make me tell him, or this will stop. “Fuck me,” I whisper, as huge tears spill over my lashes. “Fuck me, Slade. I want … I want your dick inside my pussy.”

Satisfaction and lust fill his eyes. “Finally. I’ve been waiting to hear that since the second you walked in here.”

***Other Buy Links***

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Retro Reading - The Perfume

6/7/2017

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Clearly from a young age, way before I owned a snake or starting wearing perfume, I was drawn to both, because I remember very clearly being fascinated by this book cover when I first saw it.

Caroline B Cooney wrote a lot of my favourite Point Horror books, so it seemed only fair I give at least one a re-read and see how it stands up. And since I now own a snake and make perfume, THE PERFUME felt like an excellent choice.

When fifteen-year-old Dove Daniel’s friends discover the new perfume called Venom, they become infatuated. They have Obsession and Poison; now they simply must have Venom. When they discover it’s available at Dry Ice, the coolest store in the local mall, they rush over after school. But to Dove, Venom seems inexplicably terrifying, as does the store that carries it. If she breathes in its potent scent, she is sure something terrible will happen. At first whiff, she senses something primitive and dark. Once she’s inhaled the scent, she begins to feel something . . . different . . . and her heart beats in double time. What has Venom’s bite awakened inside her?

I don't really remember how I felt about Dove when I read this book as a teenager, but as an adult I like her a lot. She's introverted, anxious (checks under her bed every night for monsters, and has to carry her address around in her purse because she forgets where she lives), and sweet. She longs for a life full of colour and romance, but is afraid to break out of her orderly, grey existence. But once the mysterious perfume, Venom, comes into her life, everything changes as she's possessed by the spirit of an ancient evil...or her twin who died in the womb. One of the two.

It's never made clear whether Wing (our villain) really is Dove's unborn twin or something more supernatural, and that annoyed me. Sometimes Wing seems like an impulsive teenage girl, unable to grasp the consequences of her actions when she takes charge of Dove's body, and sometimes both she and Dove think as if Wing is something ancient and genuinely Evil with a capital E. There's no resolution on that, so you're left to draw your own conclusions, but frankly I would have liked to be lead one way or the other by the end of the book.

This is largely because there is another explanation for Dove's sudden "double personality," one that does play a key role in the plot, and that is that Dove is having a breakdown. Makes sense, right? This quiet, good girl suddenly starts swearing at her parents, being cruel to her friends, dressing differently, acting differently, and uh...trying to murder people. She has conversations with herself in different voices, talks about finding victims and insists on being referred to as Wing. Wouldn't you think she was undergoing a psychotic break? And indeed, Dove's parents do think this, and Dove is institutionalized for "a rest" towards the end of the book.

When I was a teenager, I didn't really appreciate that this is the true horror of THE PERFUME. Not that an evil perfume has unlocked an evil being inside Dove, but that you can lose control of your mind to the point where your freedom is taken away from you. That Dove could well be suffering a psychotic break, that Wing could easily be a figment of her imagination, and that Dove doesn't even realise this. The set-up is there - Dove is shown to be anxious and neurotic before the events of the book kick in (bad memory, checking under the bed for monsters, deciding not to eat porridge with raisins because her stomach will be "full of eyes"). And clearly from an outside perspective, Dove's sudden and radical change in behaviour fits a lot of the symptoms of a psychotic break (delusions, violent outbursts, inability to tell reality from fantasy).

So yeah, re-reading this book as an adult, with a greater understanding of mental health, psychosis, depression, and anxiety, I felt there was a missed opportunity with this book. Defining Wing one way or the other could have added a great depth to THE PERFUME. It's still creepy as fuck, don't get me wrong, but I felt there were some "what ifs" left to explore. The ending doesn't help you decide whether Wing is a vanished twin, an evil apparition, or a figment of Dove's imagination, because at the end, Dove simply decides to "cast Wing out," which she does by...dancing in a fountain and yelling "get out!" pretty much.

That said, I still enjoyed revisiting it, and I know not every book should be an Issues Book, nor would I want them to be. The writing is sparse but graceful, and there are some cool touches, like the shop where Dove buys Venom being gone when she tries to go back. "It served its purpose," Wing tells her (I guess this adds weight to the "Wing is an Evil Ancient Spirit" theory). I am reminded that Cooney wrote another Point Horror about evil twins, and now I want to re-read that and do a compare-and-contrast. Maybe we'll get to the bottom of the eternal question: is one twin always destined to be evil?

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Sex Up Your Sunday with Erzabet Bishop

5/21/2017

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Happy Sunday, lovely people! I know the day is mostly over (here in the UK, anyway), but that doesn't mean there isn't time to enjoy yourself with a good book! And I've got just the thing for you - a new release from the lovely Erzabet Bishop. Take a look!

Mallory’s Mark
Demons in Darkness Book Two

Erzabet Bishop
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Length: Novel
Word Count: 57545
Page Count: 256
Price: 4.99
ISBN: 978-1-947135-03-1
Release Date: 2017-05-11

Hotter than Hell and eager for sin...

Mallory is having a bad year, even for a succubus. Her adorable dog has transformed into the Devil himself, and she can't catch a date without someone dropping dead in her wake. Now a hot shifter detective is on Mallory's trail, and things are about to get dicey. Even a trip for a cut and curl can't ease her spirits. After Mallory rescues a dog in distress, her luck might finally be turning around. Sometimes the one you save saves you right back, and maybe that sexy investigator will turn out to be exactly what she needs as well. But someone from Mallory's past has a score to settle, and her hot new boyfriend may just end up on the menu.

All that glitters could be murderous...

Detective Bryce Richardson is a werewolf on a mission. A murderer is stalking the city streets, and all signs point to one very gorgeous lady with a string of one-night stands and a growing pile of bodies. Watching her with her blind rescue dog tugs on his heartstrings, and he finds himself falling for his chief suspect, hook, line, and sinker. A true mate is hard to find and when his animal speaks, he's learned to listen. But can Bryce keep his head long enough to solve the murders, or will he be next in the killer's sights?

Buy links:

Amazon
B&N
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Etopia Press

Excerpt
Bryce watched the blonde woman sitting alone at the table on the outskirts of the bar. Nursing his drink, he sloshed the remaining amber liquid in the glass and pondered going over and talking to her. Pretty and petite, he had a feeling she would be interesting to talk to. At one point, she’d met his gaze and something tripped inside him, making the bold comment he’d planned sink into wordless nothing.

His wolf howled, pacing beneath his skin, definitely interested, the call to mate nearly boiling under his skin. Was she any different than the others? Barflies, he was learning, were not helping in his search.

There was no mystery as to what that meant in the shifter world. His animal had found a woman he wanted as a mate. But that didn’t mean his human side necessarily agreed. He should be gearing up to go to his pack’s gathering, but none of the females had caught his interest. And if not now, he couldn’t imagine that would change in the two months when he was expected to go. All unmated wolves were required to attend.

Fuck that.

His mate was right here, staring him in the face. But she wasn’t a shifter, and he had to take care. It would have been so much more simple if she had been. Chemistry would have taken over, and that would have been that.

If he were smart he would walk away and just plan on going to the gathering. But there was something about her, drawing him closer like a fly to honey. He’d walked by the table earlier, and her scent had snared him, his cock hardening.

Huh. Fly. The irony of the thought made him cringe.

Bryce had seen her here once or twice before, but she’d been with two guys. The one from before and another guy. They’d always laughed and had a good time. But today she’d been down, barely meeting the other guy’s conversation from the looks of it.

Interesting.

His wolf rumbled in his chest, unhappy with his choice to remain an observer. But something told him all wasn’t as it seemed. As soon as the thought came, it went as he watched the woman his wolf wanted as a mate.

He’d brought other women home, but it was always her in the back of his mind. No matter the curves. But damned if she wasn’t always dating some other guy. The man she was with before had gotten up and left, but she’d stayed. Was she meeting someone here?

She’d danced with one of the guys from the bar, but one song later and she was back at her table, a new drink in hand.

It was now or never. Before some other asshole decided to get in his way.

And he was tired of keeping his distance.

Fuck it.

He stood, his pulse thrumming under his skin and made his way over to her table. Her blonde hair cascaded down around her heart-shaped face, her eyes twinkling with merriment as she took him in.

“Is this seat taken?”

She glanced up at him, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Not anymore.”

About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Crave, Snow (Three Times More Lucky Box Set), Malediction, Map of Bones, Sanguine Shadows, Arcane (Prowlers and Growlers set),The Science of Lust, Wicked for You, Heart’s Protector, Burning for You, Taming the Beast, Mistletoe Kisses, Surrender, Torment (upcoming), Hedging Her Bets, Cat’s Got Her Tongue (upcoming), Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark,The Devil’s Due (upcoming), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming), Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Sweet Seductions, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many anthologies. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies.

Follow her on Twitter @erzabetbishop.

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BLOOD OF ANGELS is in the wild!

5/17/2017

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Today's the day! BLOOD OF ANGELS is unleashed!

It's available right this very second from Evernight, Amazon US, Amazon UK, and Bookstrand! But wait, there's more! You can read an excerpt from chapter one right here to whet your appetite. Enjoy!

BLOOD OF ANGELS
Chapter One

The night before the storm, Thea dreamed a fireball hit her house. She stood outside in the lashing rain, watching with a detached calm while the Old Clayton House burned. When she woke to dazzling sunlight and the stifling heat of a July morning in Georgia, that same peaceful acceptance was still with her. If the house burned down, so be it. It had endured since the Civil War, but everything had to die eventually. The Old Clayton House, with its shroud of ivy and history of scandals, was probably well overdue.

She went through her usual morning routine—yoga, shower, dress, breakfast—and didn’t let it play on her mind. She’d been a child the last time any of her dreams came true, and that one had been so mundane, she’d felt nothing but disappointment. She’d dreamed old Mrs. Jackson would find three dead chickens in her garden, and she did. But in a county full of coyotes and bobcats, dead chickens weren’t exactly a surprise. After the chicken incident, Thea hadn't had any more prophetic visions. There was no reason to think the fireball nightmare was anything to dwell on.
After breakfast, she resigned herself to having to drive into Milton. Her cupboards were bare of everything except coffee and sugar, and whilst she was fairly sure she could subsist on that if need be, it wasn’t a pleasant idea. Going into town wasn’t either, but she figured she could muster the courage for a quick trip.
It wasn’t that the residents of Milton were unkind, exactly. Nobody would be that impolite. But they stared a little too long and they smiled a little too much, and Thea walked through town with a string of ghosts trailing after her. Nobody said anything, but everybody knew, and everybody watched in case she cracked. Just like her mama. Just like her daddy.
Thea found herself blushing as she slipped on her sandals, as if she was already under the weight of those stares. She pinned back her fly-away hair and studied herself in the bedroom mirror. Her cheeks were scarlet and icy blonde wisps of hair already escaped her pins. She looked like a literary cliché, some fey waif living alone in a crumbling mansion, wild-haired and unable to interact properly with normal society. Not too far from the truth, she guessed. It was annoying. Maybe people wouldn’t treat her as so fragile if she looked sturdier.
She shrugged at her reflection and left the house. Outside, the sun beat down mercilessly. Bees hummed just out of sight and any idea of a storm was laughable. The overgrown gardens of the Old Clayton House were sunbaked and dying, the once-verdant and luxurious grounds left to Mother Nature to tend. There had been a gardener once, when Thea’s parents were still alive, and for a while after they died, but eventually Thea realized she couldn’t afford to keep him on and she’d left the gardens to grow wild and fade away.
She didn’t mind. Or rather, she didn’t care. Keeping the house clean and tidy was more than enough work without worrying about the garden. And, well, if the house did burn down tonight, it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Still, the driveway winding from the house down to the gate was a sprawl of thorny brambles and weeds, and she admitted to herself that she probably should care more, if only for convenience’s sake. Her battered car crushed the brambles and weeds as she pulled away from the house and she had an image of herself simply driving up and down the garden all day, smushing the tangle of thorns to mud and mulch, and smiled.
****
On the outskirts of Milton, in a dusty field that usually housed a few forlorn-looking horses, Thea saw a huge tent being pitched. Stuck at a stop light, she watched men scramble around the tent with a single-minded industriousness, like a colony of ants. Despite the dust swirling around, the tent was brilliantly white in the sun’s glare. A revival meeting, she guessed, and, as she pulled away, she saw a huge wooden sign propped against the fence of the field. “Experience the Healing Hands of Brother Hiram!” the sign screamed in garish, carnival letters.

She scoffed and put it out of her mind as she drove into Milton. Such meetings pitched up once or twice a year, caused a commotion, then vanished in a cloud of grit and grime again. Brother Hiram’s Healing Hands would make as much impact on the town as Mrs. Jackson’s dead chickens.
She parked outside Ada’s General Store and spent a few seconds grounding herself, breathing deep and slow. Seeing people, interacting with people, was hard. She sometimes wondered if it would be easier in a different town, one where nobody knew who she was or why her parents died. She could sell Old Clayton House, drive into the sunset, and start over somewhere new. Be a stranger, instead of just strange.
But she wasn’t sure anyone would want the Old Clayton House. She wouldn’t, given the choice. So she stayed and reserved her strength for these infrequent trips to town.
The inside of the store was cool, the shelves of produce bathed in gentle golden light. Soft music played somewhere and people shuffled around lazily, turning over peaches and plums in their hands as if they were jewels. She joined them in their slow shuffle, trying to decide what she wanted to eat. When her basket was full—of what, she didn’t really know—she went to the counter where Ada Jones had sat for as long as Thea could remember.
“Good morning, honey,” Ada said, just a little too loud, in case Thea was deaf as well as mad. “You doing alright this morning, Thea? Hmm?”
“As fine as I ever am, Ada,” Thea said.
Ada clucked her tongue as if this was terrible news. “You taking care of yourself up there? No drinking? No funny business?”
“I’ve never drunk, Ada,” Thea said coolly, “and I don’t even know what funny business is, so I can hardly engage in it.”
Ada gave her a sad, knowing look. “Well that’s good, honey. You keep it up.”
Thea promised that she would, whatever it was, and paid. Ada patted her hand as she passed over her cash, a gesture so full of well-meant pity it stung. The whole town was waiting, she thought. Waiting for her to do ... something. Because she would, they were thinking. Her mama had and her daddy had, so she would. Maybe she’d turn to drink like Joseph Clayton and slowly decay before their very eyes, become a spidery husk of a woman reeking of gin and regret. Or maybe she’d be dramatic like Eloise Clayton and drown herself in the town river, with a garland of water weeds around her neck and a bottle of pills on the riverbank. An Ophelia for the modern age—beautiful, tragic, and predictable.
Thea didn’t think she’d be like either of her parents. But she felt the weight of Milton’s expectations and wondered what they’d do if she just kept ticking along, without any dramas or tragedies.
As she was leaving, Geoff Thompson, a grizzled elder of the town, bustled in, knocking her bag from her hands. Thea dropped to her knees to retrieve her groceries, cheeks flaring red, while Geoff stood over her, chuckling lightly.
"Stocking up for the big storm, Miss Clayton?" he asked her. "Gonna be a real show tonight."
"Geoff, there's no storm tonight," Ada said. She, too, watched Thea scramble around on the floor and made no move to help. "Sky's as blue as you like. Not a cloud in sight."
"There's a storm coming fit to rip the heavens open," Geoff insisted. "Hope the Old Clayton House ain't gonna blow down, Miss Clayton."
Thea stuffed a bag of peaches into her bag and stood. "It's survived this long, Mr. Thompson. I'm sure it'll survive one more night."
Geoff gave her a smile that hovered between kind and sardonic. “Sure it will, Miss Clayton. Sure it will.”
Thea left the store feeling certain Geoff would be driving by the house tomorrow morning, just to see if the storm had washed it away.

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Sex Up Your Sunday with Doris O'Connor

5/14/2017

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Happy Sunday, fight fans! How's the weekend going? I have a ton of stuff to do, but I'm putting it all off until the last possible minute like a responsible adult, because UFC211 was on last night and we're going to watch it this afternoon. Yay! Looking forward to seeing some FIGHTS! (And thinking, as I always do when we watch MMA that I really need to finish my MMA/NA novella sometime soon). Anyway! Before all that, let's say hello to Doris O'Connor. She's here with her latest release and it's looking smoking hot. Well, what else do you expect from Doris?

Thank you so much for having me on your blog with my new release Under his Protection. I'm so excited that Lukas and Jacqui's story is back out there.

This is a previously released title. If you've read the anthology Dominant Persuasions, you'll have met these two. I have added some new material, but it is in essence the same story, so bear that in mind if you've read it before.

Either way, I'm stoked that these two get to shine on their own now, and as my editor pointed out.... I may well write the story/stories of the other characters you meet.

Writing this story was great fun, and I hope readers will love these two as much as I do.

Jacqui Page is all set to spend her thirty-fifth birthday eating her body weight in chocolate and watching chick flicks—until her best friend drags her off to visit the local BDSM club.

Now, a birthday spanking sounds like a mighty fine idea. Especially if it’s going to be delivered by the one man she’s been secretively lusting after for weeks—her melt your panties in an instant, bad boy neighbor.

Lukas Markz can’t believe his eyes when his shy, goody-two-shoes, next-door neighbor turns up at his club, dressed as every Dom’s wet dream. He doesn’t do commitment, but witnessing her submission brings out his inner caveman. No other man is going to get to mark her soft skin or listen to the sounds of her surrender. This bundle of curves is under his protection, and he will show her what it means to be his.

This is a previously published work. It has been revised and edited for Evernight Publishing.

Be Warned: BDSM, public exhibition, sex toys, anal sex

Ready for a hawt excerpt?

Going on instinct and the very real need to touch her, Lukas stepped up behind her. Putting his hand over hers on the glass, he grasped her hip with his free hand, and kicking her legs apart with his foot, pulled her flush against him. There was no way on Earth she would miss his raging boner, and, sure enough, another one of those cock hardening groans came from her.

Lukas brought one of his thighs up and between her legs, and it was his turn to groan, as the wet heat of her pussy seared his thigh even through their combined clothing.

“Naughty girl, you’re soaked through.”

He dropped a kiss on the rapidly beating pulse point in her neck, and grazed his teeth along the sensitive flesh. Gooseflesh erupted on Jacqui’s skin, and her hips flexed, as though she was trying to gain purchase on his thigh. When he rubbed that limb up and down her sodden crotch, she gasped, and put her other hand on the glass, too.

“Oh, God.”

Her heartfelt plea only served to make Lukas harder, and grasping her hips with both hands he lifted her up. With her feet dangling off the floor, her whole weight rested on his thigh, and she tensed when he slid her up and down his leg.
Head down, so that her hair obscured her expression, it was still pretty damn obvious that his naughty little dove was fast hurtling toward release, and it was suddenly imperative to Lukas that she did. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought little Miss Goody Two-shoes would be this responsive, and it was fucking hot to witness. As was watching Jake and Lauren, when he flicked a glance over to the action.

“Head up and watch them, little dove.”

Letting go of her hip for a moment, Lukas fisted his hand in Jacqui’s hair. It effectively forced her to look up and see what was going on.

“Oh, fuck.”

He grinned at her response, and resuming his slow slide along her cunt, nuzzled into her neck. “Such language from you, girl. Keep that up, and a spanking won’t be the only thing you’ll get from my hands. Maybe that’s what you want though?”

He pulled back just in time to see Jake reach between him and Lauren, and grasp the end of the butt plug decorating his sub’s ass. He thrust that object in and out of Lauren’s clenching hole with one hand, while he continued fucking her pussy, and Jacqui whimpered.

It made Lukas speed up the friction he created between her legs, and his jeans grew damp with his girl’s arousal. The sweet musk of aroused woman filled his nostrils, and he pressed his advantage.

“Is my naughty girl imagining that was her cunt being fucked?”

Another little mewl escaped her, and Jacqui locked her arms better to push back against him.

Lukas bit down on the perspiration-soaked flesh in front of him, and she gave a strangled groan that made his cock twitch in need.

Soothing the red mark away with his tongue, he yanked her head sideways so that he could kiss her. Her gasp of surprise gave him access, and Lukas grunted his own need when she kissed him back. Hesitant at first and then with ever bolder strokes of her tongue, that meant he had to break the kiss, before he took her right here in the corridor, where anyone would come across them.

While that idea had merit, and his cock was all but screaming at him to claim this woman, he forced himself to pull back.

Breaths seesawing in and out, her corset had slipped with the force of her breathing. It now revealed the edge of her areolae. It made Lukas want to lean down and trace his tongue along the pebbled flesh to coax out the tight nipples poking through their restraints.

He did neither however, just drank in the sight of his woman, and dammit, she was his, even if only for tonight. Face flushed, kiss swollen lips parted, she looked breathtakingly beautiful, and his chest tightened with a rush of emotion he didn’t dare quantify.

“Open your eyes, little dove.”

He grimaced at the rough timbre of his voice, and watched in rapt fascination as her eyelids fluttered open. If he had any doubts about how aroused she was, the evidence was there in her hugely dilated pupils. Only a small ring of blue remained around the outer edges, as she tried to focus on him.

He smiled, and pulled her head back round toward the glass.

A soft, needy, sound escaped her. It was so damn fucking hot, as was the action on the other side of that window.
Lauren shook and shivered, her mouth open in a scream they couldn’t hear, as she was reaching her climax, and the rosy flush of her release could be seen all over her body.

“Oh my God.”

Jacqui’s whisper turned into a groan when Lukas resumed his slide along her cunt, and she jerked. Behind the glass, Jake pulled out the butt plug at the same time as he pulled out of Lauren’s wet cunt. Aligning himself with her gaping butt hole, he thrust in deep.

Jacqui stiffened in front of him as Jake set up a ruthless rhythm. One that Lukas mirrored with his thigh, while he continued to whisper to his girl.

“Imagine that’s you, tied for my pleasure. Your butt is still sore from your spanking, and your cunt well used, while I claim your sweet ass. Ever taken a man up the ass, little dove?”

About Doris

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Happily married for the last twenty-seven years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.

Stalk her in these places
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Cover Reveal!

5/12/2017

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I love this part of being a writer! And I especially love it when you know Jay Aheer is working on your cover, because she's freaking amazing. I've been lucky enough to have her for all my Amber Morgan covers and every time I get exactly what I wanted, even though I didn't know I wanted it. Magic! So without further ado, here's the lush cover for BLOOD OF ANGELS. Feast your eyes on this!

There's my Turiel! I'm in love. I can't wait til next Wednesday when this beauty is out in the wild <3

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Wednesday Snippet - She hardly dared touch him at first

5/10/2017

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Happy Hump Day! We're a week away from the release of BLOOD OF ANGELS! I'm eagerly waiting for will undoubtedly be a gorgeous cover, and while I wait, I figured I'd share another teaser from the story with you and introduce you to my fallen angel a little bit. Enjoy!

As her mother aged and her beauty faded, she’d become more and more obsessed with germs, chemicals, anything she deemed unnatural. So she'd filled house with home remedies and old wives’ cures. She’d fed her husband lily of the valley tea for his liver and made Thea drink onion wine in the winter to ward off colds. About the only thing Thea put any stock in was lavender. It helped you sleep, it soothed mosquito bites, it calmed anxiety.

She hoped it would soothe her angel’s torn skin. “Do you have a name?” she asked him.

“Turiel,” he said.

"Turiel." She sat on the bed behind him, peeling down the towel to expose his back. "I'm going to rub this salve on your back. It might help with the pain. Is that okay?"

She saw him tense, the muscles pulling tight under his skin, but he nodded silently. She hardly dared touch him at first, her fingers feather-light, skimming him. But she felt him relax, heard him sigh as if exhaling his pain, and she grew bolder. She massaged the salve in with slow, lingering sweeps of her hands, carefully working around the raw wounds at his shoulder blades. The sight of the wounds brought tears to her eyes. They were jagged, violent, speaking of a cruelty and strength she couldn't imagine. Would it be like having an arm ripped off? Did he still feel the lost wings like phantom limbs?

She wanted to know what happened. What crimes did angels have to commit to lose their wings and be flung from the sky in a ball of fire? Lust? Murder? What temptations were there in Heaven?

He shuddered at her touch, but she sensed it was less pain and more pleasure now. The pungent scent of lavender hung in the air, lulling her into a steady rhythm as she massaged his back. The tension seeped out of him, drop by drop, in time with the rain beating on the window. Finally, she felt she had to stop. Her hands were free of salve and there seemed to be no other excuses to touch him. She raised her hands.

"Don't stop," he said, his voice almost too low to hear.

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Sex Up Your Sunday with Nicola M Cameron

5/7/2017

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Happy Sunday, folks! Hope you've all had a good weekend. I'm having a particularly lazy day - a lot of reading and drinking tea so far. I do plan to get some writing done this afternoon, but before that, how about some hot cyborg action? Yeah, I thought you'd be interested! Say hello to Nicola M Cameron

Hello, and thanks so much for having me on today! Degree of Resistance is my first foray into cyborg romance, and I had a huge amount of fun building the world of the Pacific Protectorate and discovering Evie and Ben’s story as it progressed (I have to admit, I love these two so much. That scene in Chapter 12 hurt to write). There are five more books planned in the series with a possibility of two prequels and some side stories as they occur to me, so I can promise you that you’ll be seeing more of Evie and Ben in the very near future.

Sci Fi Romance, Cyborg Romance, MF

Word Count: 80,000
Series: Pacifica Rising (Book One)
Heat Level 4
Published by Belaurient Press
ISBN: 978-1-54314-670-7

A perfect society hiding a terrible secret. An innocent man condemned to cyborg slavery. A brilliant woman determined to set him free.

Freelance tech Evie Contreras belongs to the Employee class of the Pacifica Protectorate, the “perfect society” that rose from the ruins of the West Coast. But Evie knows about Pacifica’s festering core and the secrets that keep it in power. And when she discovers that Pacifica has turned her fiancé Ben into a cyborg soldier/slave, she will risk everything to rescue him.

Saving Ben is the first step in a deadly game between Pacifica and a shadowy resistance group known as Rubicon. In return for Rubicon’s help, Evie must retrieve a hidden artificial intelligence that may hold the key to protecting Earth from a deadly new disaster.

Assuming the protectorate doesn’t find Evie first…

BUY LINKS:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N2A25GG
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N2A25GG
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/705076
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/degree-of-resistance-nicola-m-cameron/1125853898
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/degree-of-resistance/id1209817265?mt=11
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/degree-of-resistance
Print: https://www.createspace.com/6938559

Excerpt

“Let me see you, Ben.”

Without a word he loosened the knot in the towel and let it fall.

He reminded her of a da Vinci nude she’d once seen, every muscle developed without unnecessary bulk and giving the impression of restrained power. His chest was the same from her memories at the pool, beautifully shaped pads of pectoral muscle and shoulders ending in curved deltoids that she wanted to grip. The same light scattering of blond chest hair narrowed to a trail that led down over trim abs to his navel and beyond.

His legs were those of a runner, lean muscle and tendon rising in powerful mounds at the backs of his calves, along the length of his thighs. The hair covering them was sparser, only slightly darker than the hair on his chest, and curled against his indoor-pale skin.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at his groin. The hair darkened here, turning sandy brown and curling in a springy nest around a well-shaped cock, neatly circumcised. It had thickened a little, judging from the way it stood out from his body, but wasn’t anywhere near full erection yet.

He laughed softly. “You should see your face. You look like all your birthdays and Christmases came at once.”

“I think they just did.” There were no scars, no signs that any part of his body was artificial. “You’re perfect.”

He glanced down at himself. “I think you may be a little biased, but thank you.” His pupils expanded, compressing all the light blue into a thin ring around each black pool. “Besides, you’re the one who’s perfect.”

He came to her and knelt, gently urging her knees apart so that he could move closer. Her heart raced as he loosened the belt on her robe, letting it fall to each side. The terrycloth gaped open, putting her on display the same way he’d done for her.

He didn’t say anything for a minute as he drank her in. The nervousness she’d felt earlier was gone, banished by the naked worship in his eyes. “You’re everything I ever wanted.” His voice was husky. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

She fought back the sudden urge to cry from sheer relief. “Kiss me. Please.”

He did, his chest pressing against her breasts as he slid the robe down her arms, his mouth devouring hers. She surrendered to the delicious sensation, every brush and teasing press lighting up her nerve endings like wildfire. When his tongue trailed along the soft inner flesh of her lips she opened them, welcoming him in. Between her thighs an echoing heat began to build.

It was the night in the front seat of the GoCar all over again, but this time they didn’t have to stop. And it was much better than the evening in the park hotel because now he knew who she was, who he was.

His tongue danced around hers before breaking away to lick at the roof of her mouth. A shocking pulse of pure sensation ran through her body and she moaned into his mouth.

She broke away for a necessary breath and heard him chuckle. “Okay, so I like that,” she muttered, amused by his smugness.

“Good. I like making you moan, baby. Plan on doing a lot of it, to be honest.”

BIO

Nicola Cameron is a married woman of a certain age who really likes writing about science fiction, fantasy, and sex. When not writing about those things, she likes to make Stuff™. And she may be rather fond of absinthe.

While possessing a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that she decided to write about it. The skills picked up during her SF writing career transferred quite nicely to speculative romance. Her To Be Written work queue currently stands at around nineteen books, and her mojito-sodden Muse swans in from Bali every so often to add to the list, cackling to herself all the while.

Nicola plans to continue writing until she drops dead over her keyboard or makes enough money to buy a private island and hire Rory McCann as her personal trainer/masseur, whichever comes first.

Website: http://www.nicolacameronwrites.com
Blog: http://www.nicolacameronwrites.com/blog
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nicola.cameron.1460
Facebook Reader Group: http://www.facebook.com/nicolacameronwrites
Twitter: https://twitter.com/YesItsNicolaC
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6623791.Nicola_Cameron

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May Accountability

5/3/2017

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Looking back at April, I didn't really set any goals for myself because I was busy working on a Naomi Clark project. Well, I'm still working on that Naomi Clark project, so I'm hesitant to set any Amber goals for May. I have completed the first round edits on BLOOD OF ANGELS, and am now eagerly waiting to hear about second rounds/cover art/release dates. Once those things are finalised, I can start thinking promotion! I think if nothing else, I'd like to write some blog posts about angels in paranormal romance, and how traditionally spiritual, incorporeal religious figures became paranormal hot property.

I have my theories, but I'm no scholar. We'll see. It'll be fun to write about anyway!

Once the Naomi Clark project is done, my goal is still to start on Wild Blood #3. I have so many ideas and stories for these men that I want to set in motion! I may decide to finish one of my Amber short stories first though, just to give my brain a break from big, heavy projects. So either Last Hope, Alaska or A Bittersweet Kiss will be the next project. Realistically, that's going be June's workload. In the meantime, stay tuned for news on BLOOD OF ANGELS!

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Retro Reading - The Perfume

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BLOOD OF ANGELS is in the wild!

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Cover Reveal!

Wednesday Snippet - She hardly dared touch him at first

Sex Up Your Sunday with Nicola M Cameron

May Accountability

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