I Want – an excerpt

I Want

#fantasy #erotic romance #bisexual #menage

I Want_smAntoinette Travis knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to do exactly what was necessary to make it to the top. Outside of sleeping her way there. And she was certain her rival got the promotion that should have been hers by doing exactly that. Angry at losing the job that would have given her what she wanted, she stalks out of the office and heads for the closest bar, where a deliciously mesmerizing, exotic bartender asks her the one question to which she thinks she knows the answer.

Swept away to a tropical island, sans clothes and stripped of all civilized veneer, she’s offered the opportunity to redefine not only what she wants, but what she truly needs.

 

EXCERPT

Antoinette paced the length of her office like a caged tigress, the interoffice memo crumpled into a small ball cutting into the flesh of her locked fist. She had been passed over yet again for the promotion. Endless nights of work on this last project should have garnered her the recognition she rightly deserved. Dedicating herself to its success, working night and day to see it through to completion before the deadline had all been for nothing. That bitch, Camille, had made the cut and not her.

She’d wanted that promotion—deserved it.

“Antoinette, staff meeting in twenty minutes.”

She whipped around to confront the quivering woman hovering in the open doorway, pinning her in her sights like a doe with no hope of escape. Maggie had been her assistant for the last six months and now stood there wringing her hands together, a worried frown on her face.

Pitiful. How did the woman manage to survive this long in the piranha-infested waters of the business world without being eaten alive?

 Antoinette didn’t have much luck keeping assistants for any length of time—Maggie had lasted the longest.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she bit out, spearing her assistant with a hard, icy look that brooked no argument.

She saw Maggie gulp and watched with disdain as she quickly backed out of the office, closing the door softly behind her.

She spun away and continued her prowl of the confining perimeters of her office, arms folded tightly across her breasts, locking in her emotions. Like hell I’ll be at that meeting and fawn over that slut. Lunging around her desk, she yanked open the bottom drawer and reached down to snap up her hand-tooled leather purse, knowing she couldn’t stay in this office another second without blowing wide open. Patience had never been a part of her make up, and what little she did have could currently be counted among the dead.

A new grill had opened around the corner, and right now seemed the perfect opportunity to check out the bar.

The outer office floor was eerily silent as she strode across what felt like a football playing field length of open space to reach the bank of elevators on the other side. Their eyes latched onto her, trailing her as she left, making it feel like she was caught in the rifle crosshairs of a mob of hunters, all aimed at her, waiting for the right moment to drop her in her tracks.

Well, she wasn’t going to give them an opening, that was for sure. Sonofabitch, Camille had probably fucked her way into this promotion. Literally.

 Once inside the elevator, she spun around to face the front as the doors slid shut. She released the pent-up breath she’d been holding and her shoulders drooped with the burdensome weight of her failure—yet again. This was the second time she’d been passed over. What was it they’d said after the last time when she’d met with them, demanding to know why? She needed to learn to become more attuned to the other employees? She didn’t bond well with her co-workers, something she needed to work on. What the hell did that mean? She knew how to get the job done. Employees were supposed to follow orders, that’s what they were paid to do, weren’t they? A person shouldn’t have to worry about getting all caught up emotionally, and bonding with them. That was for sentimentalists—definitely not for her.

Reaching the main floor, she stumbled out of the elevator onto the marble reception area and hurried toward the revolving door that would allow her to make a quick escape. And good riddance. It was time to take stock and consider moving on. This company obviously wasn’t going to get her what she wanted. She’d thought it was the type of place that recognized the determination to succeed. But apparently she was wrong. They wanted serendipitous mush, not aggressive balls. When she saw opportunity she grabbed it and ran and it didn’t matter who got in the way. If they weren’t with her, they were the enemy and tromped over to get where she was going. Why is it no one could see what it really took to succeed in the shark-infested waters of success? It was one of the things that had been practically beaten into her and she’d never forgotten it. Eat or be eaten.

Control or be controlled.

Her professor back in college had taught her all about the fine art of negotiation. And she’d paid dearly for that lesson. That was a long time ago and a lot of water under the bridge. No one had ever tried to dominate her since then—she was going to be the one with the power and the money. And then they’d see what she was made of. And she didn’t plan to get there by way of anyone’s bed to do it. She’d been that route once. Never again.

The summer sun seared her skin, yet the midday heat could not rival the blazing, frustrated anger she planned to numb with a few shots of scotch. She slowed her gait as she came closer to her destination and turned as she reached the entrance of the latest renovation on Front Street, peering up at the swirling blue neon sign about the doorway. “DreamTime Bar and Grill.”

Right.

 She grabbed the thick vertical, gleaming brass handle, yanked the heavy oak door open and stepped inside, bracing herself against the cold shock of the air-conditioned interior. As the door quietly closed behind her, muffling the street noises, she stood for a moment as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior. Except for the old nineteenth century gaslight-styled lighting fixtures flickering around the mahogany and brass bar, it was very dark, but the subdued lighting guided her path straight to the bar. She bypassed the hostess with a wave of her hand, and headed for an empty barstool. Climbing onto the red leather seat, she plunked her purse onto the counter and surveyed the array of bottles setting on the mirrored glass shelving behind the bar. Eyeing her poison, she then searched for the bartender, who she spotted standing at the other end of the room talking with the only other patron at this hour of the day.

Tapping her well-manicured nails impatiently against the satiny wood surface, she pointedly glared at him. Finally, he must have felt the laser of her stare and slowly turned his head. She almost choked on her own breath as she gulped surprise. It was like colliding with a fierce front of hot tropical wind as his gaze settled on her.

Antoinette wasn’t really into relationships or sex—had never found it that great an experience. But looking at the darkly bronzed, blatantly sexual male on the other side of the bar as his eyes blazed a trail through her sent an odd sense of steamy heat spiraling through her frigid bloodstream.

Quickly, she shifted her gaze and attempted to dispel the desire to shed her clothes right there and beg the delicious specimen reeking male testosterone to fuck her. Some undefined elemental electricity he exuded zapped right into her core, and she quickly came to the conclusion she didn’t like the feeling. Not at all. It was as though he pulled at her control mechanism, sought the combination that unlocked the safe she kept all emotion locked behind. And it was a scary thought that he might actually have the ability to discover the right sequence of numbers to pull that door wide open.

Frantically, she grabbed her purse. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“What can I get you?” His voice was a blend of chocolate silk and chili peppers, making her body tingle and melt all at the same time. She was afraid to look up, to acknowledge him. What if he saw her response to him? Was she going crazy? Had she finally snapped after this last failure at work?

“Miss?”

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to encounter— Sonofabitch! She blinked rapidly. His eyes pinned her, appeared to pinpoint every secret trapped inside her. She could feel his clear Mediterranean sea-blue eyes penetrating into her, like a laser beam directed toward her soul. She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by their liquid, rippling depths. An ache began in the pit of her stomach, tentacles of sensual feeling moving outward, downward, stroking from the inside out. His eyes—how strange. The pupils looked silver—silver flames that flickered and beckoned, shining molten pools of seduction. She attempted to speak, but couldn’t find her voice. The pattern of her breaths increased until she was almost hyperventilating.

“What do you want, Antoinette?” How did he know her name? But the longer her gaze locked with his, the less she really cared how he knew. Some unheard command regulated her breathing to slower, long, deep sighs, almost as though he held some sort of hypnotic quality beneath the surface of his sensual tone.

The hard veneer of sophistication and control she always maintained eroded the longer she sat there. The sizzling hot-cold flames of his eyes clawed at the brittle surface, seeking a crack, a way to reach inside and pull out—

She blinked. Then blinked again, trying to dispel the haze of lust that seemed to consume her. She fought it, struggled to run from the foreign feeling of desire burning a hole inside her. Yet she couldn’t seem to move. Her lips felt dry and parched, her throat raw and scratched, as though some long-unquenched thirst harboring inside for longer than she could remember needed to be assuaged, and she circled her tongue along their dry, needy surface.

“I-I don’t know what I want,” she finally managed to stutter out. “Not anymore.”

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Excerpt from Fertility Rite

Fertility Rite

(#futuristic #fantasy #erotic #romance #MF)

Fertilite Rite_smA beautiful winged Vrotian female and a handsome Kansas farmer from Earth…a union doomed from the start or a love to last forever?

Lura, a Vrotian winged female, is about to commence the sacred Fertility Rite, or chance complete reversion to the primitive nature of the wild and predatory huntress. Vu, the God of Fertility, has finally revealed the identity of Lura’s mate and at last the Rite may begin.

 

EXCERPT

The silhouette of the tree stood tall and sturdy against the inky night sky. “It has been here a long time.”

He stopped next to its wide trunk, pointing the flashlight upward. “It’s seen a lot here. My father was going to chop it down at one point, but something made him change his mind. I was never sure what it was. It’s been here for as long as I can remember, and it never seems to change. In a lot of the real old pictures, it’s standing in the background. As though it’s waiting for something, sort of standing guard.”

He had his back to her and she removed first the silver girdle and then the length of silk. “It’s been waiting for this moment. Nathan, look at me.”

Slowly, he turned toward her. She saw his eyes widen. “Lura—”

She walked toward him. “Make love to me. Right now, beneath this tree.”

“Why here? What in the world made you decide we had to make love right this minute?”
She took the flashlight from his hand, flicked the switch, and dropped it to the ground. Turning back to him, she reached out and pulled the tails of his blue shirt out of his worn jeans and slid her hands beneath it. Yes, firm, thick muscles met her questing fingers. A strong heart beat rapidly beneath her touch. “Tonight there will be an eclipse of your moon. This moment has been foretold by the Priestess.”

Her quick fingers unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders, then she lowered her mouth to his chest, felt the heat emanating from him. With her tongue she circled the hardened nipples of his flat chest. She sucked a nipple into her mouth as she brought her hands down to the waistband of his pants.

“Love me,” she whispered against his skin as her hands unfastened his pants, slid the zipper down, then pushed them over his lean hips.

“Damn, Lura, you make it hard for a man to resist,” he rasped out. His hands rose to cup her breasts. A shaft of pleasure raced through her at his warm, sure touch.

“Yes, Nathan, touch me. Make me yours.” She slid the pants down his legs, and his cock sprang free, hard and thick, ready for her. “They taught me how to please you at the Temple.” She touched his cock with her hand, slid her fingers along its smooth length, swirled her fingers over the tip, and felt his anticipation seep out, covering her fingers.
Kneeling in front of him, she removed the last of his clothing, then took his thick shaft into her hands and looked up at him. “I have never been with a man. I am ready to take you into my body, but no man’s cock has ever entered me before this moment. I want you to know that you will be the first. And the only.”

She lowered her head and took his cock into her mouth, easing her tongue over the head, sucking him inside. Wrapping one hand around the firm base, she ran her other hand up and over his stomach and felt his abdomen muscles tighten. She slid her mouth up and down his length, drawing him deeper each time, easing the muscles of her throat to take as much of him as she could.

Her womb contracted with the need to be filled by him and she felt her own liquid pleasure release and coat her thighs. She had anticipated this moment, prepared for him, and wanted him more than she could have ever imagined.

He groaned and his hands cupped her face. “Enough, honey, come here and let me love you. I’m going to come right now if you don’t stop what you’re doing.” He thrust his hips as an exclamation to his words.

Lura lifted her head. “I want to taste you. I am not afraid to know you in this way. Give me your seed.” And she drew him once again into her mouth, tasted the salty passion of his pre-cum, and sucked harder, swirling her tongue beneath the ridge of the head, teasing at the slit in the tip.

She felt him tighten, felt the tension in his body coil like a spring, tighter and tighter. He yelled, his fingers twisted in her hair, and he orgasmed in long, pulsing bursts as she swallowed. It was her first real taste of a man’s passion and she was not displeased by its flavor. She savored this part of him, and licked him clean, felt him soften, felt the tension ease from his body.

But she did not stop, and instead licked and coaxed him back to rigid attention, cupping and kneading his muscled buttocks. It did not take long before his cock was again hard.
“Enough,” he said, as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know how you’re different from Earth women. What you want.” He took her lips and pressed between them with his tongue.

She drank from him, sucking him inside, pressing her body against him. Her wings extended, arching backward, swooping forward, then back yet again.

 

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Hidden Impact – an excerpt

Hidden Impact

(#gayromance, #eroticromance, #MM, #contemporary, #secondchance #may-decemberromance)
HiddenImpact_cover_smReed Parr loves Drew Sanborn with a passion that flares bright and hot and lasting. Drew fulfills every fantasy Reed has ever imagined of the perfect lover, the perfect partner. And Drew loves him right back. So what’s the problem? Reed’s life, for one thing. Reed’s children and Drew’s parents. And their inner vulnerabilities. Age differences and past hurts…

Reed is a gifted architect, and his livelihood hinges on the career he’s built over fifteen years with the Sanborn Architectural Firm—the company owned and run by Drew’s father, a man with whom Reed and his wife had regularly socialized before Reed’s wife’s death. Reed had watched Drew grow up, watched as the young man become fast friends with his own son, Mark, never realizing how their paths would cross in later years. Their lives are so intertwined, that the impact of their relationship on both families could be devastating. Reed simply can’t take the chance on outing his love for Drew without considering the hidden impact on all their lives.

Drew, sixteen years younger than Reed, is openly gay. At some level, he understands Reed’s hesitance on outing their relationship. Yet after two years, he’s ready for their secret affair to transform into a public commitment.

Can a week in the mountains, away from the pressures and expectations surrounding them, help to cement the relationship enough for Reed to publicly admit his love for Drew? Or will everything fall apart, causing the lovers to separate forever, no matter how painful the parting?

Confrontation, revelation, and steamy nights of hot, searing sex could make all the difference in the world…

EXCERPT

Drew loved listening to Reed’s voice. It made him so hot to hear him relate the story about his first time with a guy.

But he also loved listening to him in meetings. The man was an enigma. On the outside he looked so cool and composed. His blue eyes were quiet, reminding Drew of calm, pale winter skies. It was that quiet strength that had Drew hanging on his every word when Drew had first started working with his father’s company. He hadn’t been certain the job at the architectural firm was the right move, but he’d gone ahead and done it anyway. What did he have to lose? His football career was shot to hell because of the shattered kneecap he’d suffered during that last pivotal game. He already had the schooling and his love life was pretty well blown, Caleb not liking the role of nurse. In the end there’d been no reason for Drew to look back, no other options for him to consider, particularly after the downward spiral he’d taken when Caleb had walked out. But little had he known what the fates had in store for him.

Until he’d walked into Reed’s office and everything seemed to fall into place. It wasn’t his friend Mark’s father he saw standing there. It was the most handsome, exciting man he’d met in a long time. That for his first project his father had teamed him up with Reed was almost a wet-dream come true.

He was attracted to Reed from the very start, but as far as he knew Reed was totally straight and he’d never cross that line. Not unless he was invited. And the invitation better be loud and clear. Too darn much hidden impact if Drew read the signals wrong. With a stranger he might give it a shot, but especially with Reed Parr he had to be careful. Reed was not only his best friend’s father, but Drew’s father’s employee. It was a tightrope of twisty, sensitive and slender wire he tried to navigate. Every day it was harder and harder to deny his attraction to Reed. From that first moment it had been unrequited love.

Until the afternoon they found out the project they’d worked on together so hard had been enthusiastically approved by the client. It was his own first success with the company and he was flying high.

For Reed it had obviously just been another project completed, because he was back at his desk already eyes deep in another commercial design. But Drew hadn’t been able to come down to earth yet. He wanted to celebrate and he wanted to celebrate with Reed.

Drew had ended up going to dinner alone. Yet something had drawn him back to the office. After stopping off to buy a bottle of champagne, he went back to the building planning to have his own private party, maybe with a little self-pity thrown in on the side since he had to do the celebrating alone. It was when the elevator doors slid open on the sixteenth floor long past when everyone should have been gone, and he found Reed still hard at work in his office, that a strange sensation began to flood through his veins. Drew had come back here for a reason. He’d felt fate close around him like a tailor-made coat designed especially for him. His heart had drummed in his chest. He realized he still had the bottle of champagne and a couple of plastic glasses. Maybe there was someone he’d be able to celebrate with–who he’d been meant to celebrate with all along.

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Find it on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07M95P8Y2

Fires of Crete – an excerpt

Fires of Crete

(#eroticromance #gayromance #MM #contemporary)

firesofcrete_cover_smUnexpected, instantaneous, and combustible attraction. Two strangers meet online sharing a passion for Minoan history. An invitation to holiday on Crete. Andrew Larson, a studious university professor, and Stephanos Angelika, an attractive up-and-coming young Greek executive, finally meet, and an undeniable need blazes to life. They have two weeks to explore this heady level of their relationship. Is it lust or something deeper?

Andrew, adopted as a child, has only a medallion that ties him to his Greek heritage. And a faded photograph of a young woman, the name of a village scrawled across the back. He sets upon a journey of discovery, but finds even more than he bargained for when he sees Stephanos awaiting him at the airport on Crete.

Stephanos leads a cautious, solitary life as a young gay man leery of living his lifestyle openly, already estranged from a family that has disowned him. It’s a huge leap when he invites Andrew to visit. Upon seeing Andrew, Stephanos knows everything will change.
The friendship that began online erupts into something far stronger and lasting. Will the weight of past wounds destroy the deepening bond they have come to share? Or will it be love that triumphs?

EXCERPT

Stephanos left the apartment at dawn, before Andrew was up, in order to walk the silent streets and clear his head. He had to come to a decision; the sexual tensions that existed between him and Andrew had reached breaking point. He came to the steps of a Greek Orthodox Church. He often wound up here either late at night or early in the morning, when he was particularly conflicted. Something drew him to climb the steps and walk into this sacred space. Perhaps he would find that elusive answer he searched for in regard to his relationship with Andrew.

He studied the Byzantine-inspired architecture, focused on the cross affixed above the archway, and then walked inside. He inhaled the incense-scented air, the aroma of polished wood, studied the rectangular stained-glass windows for a moment, then sat down in the last pew and allowed the peaceful spirituality of the atmosphere to envelop him. His father had lived by the creed of this church. Had Stephanos wandered so very far away? He closed his eyes and bowed his head, instinctively reciting the prayers he had memorized as a child. They were a comforting ritual, and slowly the tension eased. All the memories of his youth came flooding back. Bittersweet now. He opened his eyes and stared up at the cross mounted above the altar, waiting for an answer.

He jumped when a hand settled on his shoulder. He glanced up, was shocked when he saw Andrew staring down at him.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered as he slid deeper into the pew.

“I heard you leave, and I decided to follow. Call it a hunch,” Andrew said quietly.

Stephanos stared at the cross. “I don’t know what to do,” he finally admitted out loud. “I think I am a coward.”

Andrew reached for his hand, and Stephanos gripped it tightly. More tightly than he probably should have.

“What do you want to do?” Andrew asked.

Andrew’s steadying touch felt right to Stephanos. His presence was steadfast and necessary to Stephanos’s happiness and well-being.

“I don’t want to push you away. But I want more than friendship. I don’t want to lose the camaraderie we have established and exchange it for something less…substantial and fleeting, Andrew. Our relationship is too important to me.”

Andrew squeezed Stephanos’s hand. “Realistically anything beyond friendship can’t last. I have to return to the States in less than two weeks. But I’ll admit that I want more even though I know it can’t last.”

“I don’t know what to do. It seems I’ve waited all my life for now—for meeting you. And now I’m paralyzed. What if it’s not right? We can’t go back.”

“Everything is a risk. You could have stayed in the mountains, with your family, and never known something of the world. Do you regret what you did?”

“There are some days that I do, yes.”

“Because you’re alone now? But you know who you are, don’t you? Better than you did before? Do you really want to go back to that naïveté?”

It didn’t take Stephanos long to consider his answer. “No. Even with being disowned, I couldn’t change it if I wanted to. It’s inside me, and I can’t alter who I am, although some would think that would be an easy thing to do.”

“Risks are part of life. They’re scary, but they make us feel alive. Don’t you think?”

“Alive,” Stephanos repeated. “Yes, but I want more. I want to be free.”

“Come home, Stephanos. I want to be free too. I want to fly. With you.”

Stephanos looked at the angled fresco on the domed ceiling. Again, he thought of Icarus and how high he flew, how close to the sun he got. Was it worth it to feel the fire, to soar that close to a flame so bright? Wasn’t there always a price to be paid? Perhaps wounds borne? Stephanos twisted around to look at Andrew. He smiled and then stood up.

He got the answer he’d come for. Maybe not in quite the fashion he’d expected, but it was a response he embraced.

The sun was just beginning to ascend in the sky as they made their way back to Stephanos’s apartment, walking slowly. Stephanos still gripped Andrew’s hand, afraid to let go.

It was as they rounded the corner of Stephanos’s building that he pulled back and dragged Andrew into his arms. It was at the corner of his street where he kissed Andrew, thrusting his tongue deep into Andrew’s mouth. It was in the elevator that Andrew cupped Stephanos’s face with both hands and claimed a kiss, tongues clashing, lips fused, until the bell dinged and the elevator doors silently slid open when it arrived at Stephanos’s floor.

But it was inside the apartment when the fire roared out of control. Hardly had the door slammed shut when the inferno consumed them with the hunger of suppressed lust now freed as a wildfire racing across a drought-ridden field too encompassing to even think of quenching before it consumed everything in its path. And more than anything, Stephanos wanted to be engulfed by the fires of Andrew’s passion. Anogia and Andrew’s search for his past would have to wait another day.

In their own world now, sequestered from prying eyes, passion knew no bounds. Hands and tongues and bodies fused and mated. There was unleashed urgency to their movements, to their ravening hunger. And there would be no stopping the firestorm that erupted with full force.

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Sexual Chemistry

Erupting Sexual Chemistry Between Nathaniel and Elijah in Knave of Hearts

knaveofhearts_smIn Knave of Hearts, Elijah and Nathaniel seem very different from each other. Nathaniel is high-powered and all about business and the end result. Elijah is all about emotion and people. Elijah’s guardian, Charles, the head of a very thriving business empire,  is dying of cancer. Elijah, a sound engineer, has returned to Seattle to be with him during his final days. He could care less about the business, he’s here for Charles, and is dealing with a range of emotions concerning the loss of his only family.

Nathaniel seems almost a mirror of Charles in that he also is the head of a thriving business. He’s come to Seattle to help assure the security of Charles’s empire as a transition of leadership must occur without incident. Nathaniel is all about the business and emotion does not play into his life. Not that he hasn’t had his share of lovers. But lovers in Nathaniel’s world usually involve an ulterior motive.

The twelves steps of intimacy rears its head at a most inopportune moment. At least for Elijah it is. His focus in on Charles and his guardian’s needs during these final days. His emotions have everything to do with love for his guardian, and nothing to do with sex or have a short-term affair to ease tensions. Until the night of Charles’ birthday party–his last. And everything changes when one man walks through the door of the hotel ballroom.

Chemistry is what erupts. Eye to body. When Nathaniel first lays on Nathaniel, not even knowing his name he is intrigued. Eye to eye. Interest sharply deepens when they come face to face a little later in the evening, but not close enough to speak. Yet eye contact is achieved. The eyes can say a great deal. Voice to voice. And when a moment of respite from the party brings Elijah to the reception area for a moment of quiet, he gets anything but peace when Nathaniel finally initiates a conversation between them.

“You’re with Charles Ballard.”

Elijah’s head shot up. He must be dreaming. He blinked. Nope, the image didn’t go away. He got to his feet in order to face the gorgeous stranger. No socialite clinging to his arm. He was making conversation with Elijah. Elijah took a deep, shuddering breath. Oh, shit. Had he ever been less prepared for an encounter than this?

“Uh, yeah. I am.” Now what did he say? This was not the impression he wanted to make. Where was the brunette? Was he maybe just being polite by dancing with her? Oh, man. “Are you a business associate of his?”

“You might say that. I just arrived in Seattle. I received the invitation and thought I’d stop in to the party for a bit. But as I said, I’ve only arrived in town. I was just getting ready to go back to my hotel.”

“Oh.” Too bad. “Will you be in Seattle long?” Perhaps the question was a bit too eager.

“A while. A few weeks at least. Perhaps a month. It will depend.”

Too bad Elijah was leaving with Charles, so it was kind of a moot point. Though he would have liked to get to know this man better. Then a desperation to not lose the connection kicked in. He needed something normal…like a little flirtation, to keep him sane. He saw a discarded cocktail napkin on the table. He pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket, and scribbled his name and cell number. This was not something he did every day, but these seemed to be unusual circumstances. He had no idea if the guy was interested or not. If his business had anything to do with Charles directly or not. Whether he was just trying to make small talk or find out more about Charles. Frankly, it didn’t matter. Not one whit.

“If you happen to find yourself at loose ends, why don’t you give me a call?”

The stranger glanced at the napkin, then back at Elijah. “But you’re with Charles.”

Elijah nodded. “Yeah. I have to leave or I’d ask if you wanted to go for a coffee. Charles is getting a little tired and he needs to get home. But maybe another time, while you’re in town. You gotta name?”

The stranger seemed to be sizing him up. He reached out for the napkin. “I do have a name.” He glanced down at the phone number, then slipped the napkin into his breast pocket. “Elijah.” The way he said it was slow and drawn out. His tone was low, his voice soft and deep. Elijah recognized the tone. He gave Elijah a mysterious smile. “And if I decide to call, perhaps I’ll give it to you. Goodbye for now.” And then he turned and strolled away toward the front door of the hotel.

That Nathaniel, he is a smooth one all right. But don’t underestimate Elijah. He’s no pushover and he’ll give Nathaniel a run for his money–just as soon as he finds out the damned man’s name. And we still have like nine steps of intimacy to go. Oh, boy, was this story fun to write.

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Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07963HDWN

Aristaeus, the Original Beekeeper of Myth

Aristaeus, the Original Beekeeper of Myth

bee_flower-9665Although Ambrosia is an original creation orchestrated with the assistance of my muse, it is based on the belief held by the ancient Greeks and Romans that honey is the nectar of the gods. Did you also know that the name for honey comes from the Hebrew word for Enchant?

Legend has it that Aristaeus was a shepherd, the son of the water nymph, Cyrene. It is said that he was the first to teach the art of beekeeping. When Aristaeus’ bees perished (it is unknown whether it was through disease or accident of nature), he went to plead help from his mother. In agreeing to assist him, Cyrene led him to the Prophet Proetus who revealed to him a ceremony he must perform that would help him to rebuild his hives. Aristaeus did as Proetus directed and his hives were restored. Hence, the first beekeeper and the origin of the legend as told through the voices of ancient belief.

The recipe I offer in this delightfully delicious story is based on the ancient art of ambrosia_smstorytelling. “What if” I combine the “nectar of the gods,” with a fickle goddess as guardian, add in an “enchanting” beesinger named Ambrosia with a vow to fulfill, and one handsome lord with a desperate mission to save his people? For flavoring, mix in the biology of bees with the reviving spirit of a sweet magical elixir, and one has the recipe for an intriguing erotic fantasy romance. My result was Ambrosia.

One last tidbit to leave you with. Did you know that honey comes in many variations of color and flavor? Several factors can influence the taste and look of honey such as the variety of flower, the soil chemistry, and the honeycomb quality. It can have the look of gold, red, or even green. What a delicious combination–sweet, colorful…and sensual. So be sure to enjoy the story…and the food.

Ambrosia, now available at these fine ebook retailers:

Find it on Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N9736YH
Books2Read Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/4Aglyp
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/705901

 

 

 

 

Trumpeter Swans and the Development of Swan’s Lake (Primal Magic)

Trumpeter Swans and the Development of Swan’s Lake (Primal Magic)

swans6croppedI love Trumpeter Swans. And this is prime wintering season for Trumpeter Swans here in the Pacific Northwest. Shallow wetlands being prime nesting grounds, they should feel right at home in this area of Washington.

Research and foundation are prime requisites in creating story and there must be time devoted to discover and relate elements and symbology to create an engaging and fully-realized three-dimensional story that is able to draw a reader into my world, as I see it.

“She is very beautiful.”

Reynaldo couldn’t look away from the view of the serene lake surrounded by the lush forests. So different from the barren fields and fallow grounds on the other side of the estate.

At one time, the lake had been just as stagnant as the dried up land. Before she came. But only the lake and the surrounding woodlands seemed to have been affected by her magical appearance.

He felt Satrius’s presence behind him, but Reynaldo was focused on the beauty of the swan who was about to take flight. He watched as her powerful wings extended and she glided across the lake, her mirror image reflected in the shimmering, clear blue water, and finally soared into the air. His gaze was glued to the arc of her neck as she stretched out, and he could almost feel the wind against his own face, the freedom of the sky as he followed the perfect symmetry of her form. He felt his soul reach out to her, yearning to soar with her.

swans-0748Swan pairs mate for life and usually form pair bonds on the winter grounds, often where the pen (female) was hatched. The pen will choose the nesting site, the cob (male) will defend it. A Trumpeter Swan’s life expectancy can span as much as 20 years. If one mate dies, the other with find another mate.

“He will destroy you, Martine. If you do not act soon, it will be too late and Satrius will find a way to be rid of you. Of all of us.”

She turned swiftly to face one of the elder shifters, Arwen. He was a gruff old man, but beneath that she had come to determine he had a heart of gold and he meant well. He led the northern flock, those who had arrived in the first week. Yet all seemed to look to him for guidance. News traveled quickly in this magical world, and when word reached them of a strange swan maiden from the other land, they had begun arriving daily from throughout Valliana. Usually a bird or two at a time, but within Arwen’s flock there were at least eleven.

“I cannot act too quickly, Arwen. I know the urgency—you have all more than made that clear.”

“You are the chosen one. We all knew it when we heard of your arrival from the other world. What we attempt here has never been done before. For a swanshifter to mate with one outside our species—we do not know if it can even be done. Not even in Valliana.”

Martine Cullen, the swan maiden, is of of Celtic descent; Reynaldo Donata, lord of Terragatto, is a shapeshifting predator, who is lord of the castle in this realm. A dark magic has settled over Valliana, and only Martine can break the spell of Satrius, a very powerful warlock, who has cast a spell over Reynaldo.

swans-1540When I’m researching, I usually start with symbology, and in this story, I wanted to know what the swan symbol represented. What I found is this: Swan is a symbol of gracefulness and intuition. In alchemy, it is a symbol of hermaphroditism, being either male or female, It is a marriage of opposites – perfect for my story. But, of course, as any writer will, we take great liberties with the what-ifs, at least jumping one step farther. What if this, what if that? I’ve never been good at taking just one step…

She again turned toward the water and gazed out at the shifters resting there. It was then she came up with a dangerous alternative. Would any of them agree? Could she accept it, herself?

She whirled back toward Arvin. “What if we could give him what he seems to desire? It would be taking a chance, but if we can break the darkling magic it might be worth a try.” Suddenly, it all became clear. “That’s it.”

“What are you saying?”

She laughed and a weight lifted from her shoulders. There was a way to beat Satrius and possibly to break his hold over Reynaldo. “It has never been done before—not among the swanshifters.” Would it be such a sacrifice for her to accept another into the pairing? She felt a tingling begin between her thighs at the idea she was considering. It was a desperate chance, but one she was willing to take if the others could agree.

“You can’t be considering what I think you are.”

“Would it be so wrong? Help me, Arwen. You have told me how dangerous it would be for a child of Reynaldo and Belinda to be brought into this world. If it was not so, this gathering would not be taking place.”

“It is dangerous. If you have not found a cob to your liking thus far, what makes you think you will find one acceptable for the relationship you are considering?”

“I was not thinking of a cob instead of Reynaldo, but someone who would enhance our pairing. Help me find the right one. One to tempt him from Satrius—one he could not deny. Please.”

“You ask a great deal, Martine.”

“I know. I know he wants me, but he holds back. If we present him with something more, something he cannot deny, strong enough to turn him away from the evil. Offer him so much pleasure he is blinded by it. If Belinda is allowed to bear his child, the chasm of evil will rip wide open. Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not.”

“You know the flocks better than I. Help me find the right cob who could bond with two others for a lifetime. One who is strong enough to help me woo Reynaldo away from his sinister lovers. Yes, he seems to want me, but it isn’t enough.” She again turned to scan the waters. “There must be one among the many—one who would welcome this strange pairing.”

“You are asking that he submit to another. It will not be easy to find one that will accept the sharing of a pen. This is far beyond anything that has been attempted before. For you to share yourself between two—is this really what you want?”

She turned to look up at him. “I must pair with Reynaldo. To lose this chance, could mean all of our deaths.” She touched her abdomen. “In here, I know this is right. What we plan is the path I must follow. That we must follow.”

One step farther. Our Martine is a very clever woman. And it will take an adventurous, determined shapeshifter to save Reynaldo and this world, one who isn’t afraid to break boundaries, to bend mating rituals long followed in the past.

Thus, we have the story of Martine and Reynaldo, shifters who will break all the laws of their respective kinds in order to save their world.

 

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Now available on Amazon.com

Currently a #kindleunlimited selection

 

Jebediah’s Promise – an Excerpt

SYNOPSIS:

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Captain Jebediah Holliday is a soldier who serves his country with pride and holds the heart of his wife Trudy, keeping him strong.  Dedication to duty requires strength and commitment in separation for both Jeb and Trudy.  Jeb’s pledge to do his duty and return to Trudy safely is jeopardized when he is taken hostage on a routine mission.  Trudy has faith that Jeb will return home to her, keeping his promise.  A hero’s face and courage comes in many guises.

EXCERPT:

“Hey soldier, how about buying a girl a drink?”

Jeb paused in the act of raising the glass to his lips and smiled to himself. He set the beer back on the bar and swiveled around on the stool, knowing exactly whom that sultry, sexy voice belonged to.

Schooling his expression so as not to reveal his anticipation, he surveyed the compact little strawberry blonde posed next to his stool. Mm-mm, damn fine looking woman. With cherry-lush lips curved into a seductive half smile, a slender golden brow arched upward, and the taunt-the-devil flash in her eyes, she presented the kill-me wallop of some of his grandpap’s finest homebrew. The now familiar burn flashed bright, tracking a path through his insides, heart to groin.

Drawing out the sizzle, he took his time in answering as he measured her with his eyes, drinking in the sensual image she presented. It was a vision he’d never grow tired of seeing. The loud country music blasting on the speakers faded away, his total concentration centered on the hot little package standing in front of him. He always had been a man who liked to take his time unwrapping presents slow and easy.

“Well, evenin’, good lookin’. What brings you into a place like this?” His body throbbed in response to the picture she presented in the tight black jeans hugging her rounded hips, and his gaze appreciated the full firm breasts his hands itched to hold.

The jade shirt she wore matched the color of her eyes, reminding him of springtime back home in the mountains of Tennessee. Lip smackin’ good as his grandpap would say.

Good thing he’d learned some gentlemanly manners over the years, or he’d be giving her the pinch test on that nice tight ass of hers, and probably warrant a slap in return.

She knew what he was thinking. He could tell by the twinkle of mischief in her eyes she knew exactly what was in his mind. And that pouty mouth dared him to try it. She stepped closer, reached out, and placed her palms against the tops of his black jean-clad thighs.

“Mmmm, nice. That’s what I like—a man with a fine pair of rock-hard legs.” Her words curled around him like smoke from a campfire reaching for the sky, and she sure as hell was stoking a fire that was ready to break out into a pure red-hot blaze set to ravage his skin. She pressed her fingers against the dense fabric covering his thighs just enough, and he felt his cock respond. Oh, she had a nice grip—firm, yet gentle. Her long fingers released, tightened, repeated the action as she shifted closer to the throbbing dick waiting to be loosed.

“Mighty familiar there, don’t you think, ma’am?” He reached out and clasped her forearms before she got any farther, pulling her between the rock-hard thighs she seemed so fond of. She fit close and perfect against his aching crotch. “Damn that feels good. Too good for sitting in the middle of a goddamned bar. One drink and we’re out of here, Tru.”

Her grin widened and he knew he was in for trouble. She lifted a leg and rested her boot-shod foot against the rung of the barstool. His eyes widened and he sucked air as he felt her knee graze against that sensitive stiff tool confined behind the zippered front of his pants. Slowly she rubbed in a circle. The paddle fans stirring the air from above did little to cool his mounting temperature.

“Miss me today?” she murmured, adding a mere hint more pressure.

 

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Now available at these ebook outlets:

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077SZBMQ6

Smashwords Buy Link:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/82205

Books2Read Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/3RoqQY

 

If You Dare… – Excerpt

Blurb:

ifyoudare_smShe was bored with her life and sought something more in her relationships. But in the small town of Gideon it was unlikely she’d find it. Barring that, first she had to know what she was looking for. Until the arrival of a hand-delivered invitation to a costume party—an invitation that would change her life. Beneath a full moon on All Hallow’s Eve, he seduced her. Bewitched her. Dominated her. Without uttering a word, he unveiled her deepest desires and darkest needs. He offered her a chance to fulfill her hidden longings—if she dared… It was only the beginning… A moonlit tale of seduction and desire; dominance and submission.

 

EXCERPT:

…Bringing an elegant index finger to her lips, she understood he wanted no conversation. He nodded once. She lowered her head negligibly, indicating she understood. Without thought, she then opened her mouth and sucked the tip inside, between her lips. What she wouldn’t give to replace it with his hard shaft.

She circled her tongue over the pad, teased the hard surface of his nail, wanted it to be the head of his penis. Wanted to circle her tongue along the soft velvety ridge of its head, taste the essence of his pleasure. Waves of lust consumed her at the thought; her pussy clenched on emptiness.

He cupped her jaw with his other hand, caressing, allowing her to suck and tease his finger, drawing it more fully into her mouth. Then slowly he removed it, stroking the side of her face. She sensed his approval and felt pleasure lure her to want more.

He turned her away from him and toward the pond. The civilized world fell away—simply didn’t exist.

He sifted his fingers through her hair, then stroked through it, down along the curve of her back. His touch wooed her and she closed her eyes, concentrating on his hands, his touch, and the cool embrace of the night.

She attempted to turn towards him, wanting to touch him, but firmly he returned her to face the fog-enshrouded pond. Ghostly white fingers seemed to reach out, dancing just above the surface of the silent, rippling water. The soft sweeping waves stroked against the shore, a quiet music to the night, as his hands waltzed slowly along her arms from shoulder to fingertips. She trembled at the heat that sliced through her veins.

She felt his hand at the buttons at the back of her caftan. Felt each one give way. When the last had been undone, slowly he drew the two sides apart and she felt the cool night air against her skin. She should have stopped him. After all, she didn’t know him. As far as she knew she’d never met him before. He was an enticing stranger.

But the titillating excitement of the unknown stopped her. She wouldn’t get a second chance to go back and reclaim lost moments and she wanted to experience this one. She would have no regrets about missed opportunities.

As the gold dress slid from her arms and fell to the ground at her feet, it seemed her own remaining inhibitions followed—and she did not look back. She felt the chill night air feather across her skin. He lifted first one foot and then the other, removing the dress and placing it to the side—soft sound bites of movement.

 

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Find this story at these ebook outlets:

 

Books2Read Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/b5OqaA

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01K6OU7S4

Smashwords Buy Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/684242

 

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