Highland athlete Ross Carmichael is a mountain of a man and more than most women can handle. American Nora Taylor isn’t put off by his size, and she loves that he wears a kilt.
Now if she can just see what’s underneath it…
Lassie, Come Home is a 5,000-word erotic romantic comedy short story first appearing in A Curvy Christmas Anthology. Written for Ages 18+.
Beta Reader Dawn Martin-Smith: I find it incredible that you have such a way with words, that under a different nom de plume the stories are so different. Nia, I love Ree L Diehl’s stories. They are short, sweet and fucking hot!
He’d given thought to what he had to offer a woman, let alone one as beautiful as she was. His size intimidated most that he met. Under a bit of paunch, he had enough muscle to tip the scale at three hundred twenty-five pounds and rank in the top ten of any Highland games that he competed in.
He was a mountain of a man. Lucky for him, she was an avid climber.
After connecting online, he’d managed to talk her into visiting Scotland. Now that she was here, he hoped that he could get her to stay.
Given her interests, he could tempt her with Harry Potter places, dangle castles and historic sites, and offer to guide her on a number of walking tours. Today’s weather would have been perfect for it. With temperatures hovering at fifty degrees Fahrenheit, the average tourist required no more than a light jacket or shawl. Aussies wore winter coats, and braw souls from Northern climes sported bare legs and arms.
Ross gripped himself under the table and imagined pinning her to the wall of the lavvie and banging her senseless.
Musician George Elliott is in rehab, recovering from the car accident that nearly killed him. So far he’s beaten the odds, learning to walk and talk again (even if it’s with a stutter). He’s on the autism spectrum and struggles with PTSD whenever there’s a change—and everything is new to his injured, amnesiac brain.
He doesn’t know where his home is. He can’t remember what it’s like to be with a woman, but he very much wants to when he starts sessions with music therapist Carole West.
Plus-sized George finds himself falling hard and fast for a beautiful woman he doesn’t think he can have. But it’s Christmas season. In this short story inspired by the classic holiday film It’s a Wonderful Life, miracles do happen.
Originally part of A Curvy Holiday charity anthology, By George is a heart-warming BBM romance with a heat level of four, written for Ages 18+.
Beta reader Dawn Martin-Smith “God Nia, I don’t know how you do it. The story of George is absolutely fantastic. I had tears in my eyes pretty much from the get go. Your talent is incredible.”
George felt his breath seize and fought the anxiety that made his chest tighten and his heart race. He’d never had panic attacks before the accident (or so he’d been told). Any change carried the threat of one—which sucked—because everything was new to his injured, amnesiac brain.
Tina rapped on the door.
The voice that answered was as rich as dark chocolate and as sultry as a summer night. Tina opened the door, revealing a wall of musical instruments on the left. To the right, an electric keyboard sat by a set of shelves lined with drums and percussion. On the far side of the room sat the source of the voice, a beautiful blonde with a soft smile and compassionate eyes as blue as the azure sky.
“Hi, George,” she said, rising from her office chair and rounding her desk to greet him. “Do you know who I am?”
Anxiety clawed at his chest, tearing ragged holes in his breath.
“That’s okay, George,” she quickly assured him. “My name is Carole. Carole West. Can you say it?”
“Cuh-Cuh-Ca-rrrole W-Wuh-Wuh-WWWest,” he managed, cursing his stutter that the accident hadn’t taken with his memory, damn it all.
She beamed at him like a teacher with a prize pupil. “Very good, George! Now, come on in. Have a seat. I have some things I want to show you, and then we’re going to try some fun things that I think you’ll enjoy.”
Carole looked at Tina. “Thanks for showing him down. I’ll buzz you when we’re through.”
The door closed, shutting the two of them in together. George lowered himself into an empty armchair. Carole sat on the piano bench and looked at him sitting white-knuckled with nerves.
“Are you okay, George?” she asked, all solicitousness. “I know this is a break from your routine.”
Evidently, he was on the autism spectrum, too.
He hated that she knew it. He couldn’t hide his stutter but he’d become something of an actor, able to convince people that he was just like them.
“I’m f-f-fine,” he grunted, sounding sulky, regretting that he had too much going against him to interest anyone as lovely as her.
“Oh, George,” she sighed, blinking away the moisture that sprang into her eyes. “You’re here. You’re strong—stronger than you know. I want to show you something and hopefully give you some new goals to achieve.”
Rising, she picked up a remote control from her desk, aimed it at the DVD player, and pressed a button. A concert lit up the screen, starting with a shot of the guitarist’s hands, his fingers dancing over the strings, his soulful voice serenading the fans who’d come to see him perform.
The camera angle shifted, showing the audience. Carole was sitting in the front row with Tina.
“See anyone you know, George?” she asked, freezing the frame and trying to not grin.
“Th-th-that’s y-you,” he stuttered. “A-a-and T-Tina.”
“Correct!” She hit the play button. The camera panned left until it pointed back at the stage, passing over band members and background vocalists before focusing on the lead singer.
George clutched the arms of his chair and stared.
“I’ve been a fan of yours for years, George,” she said softly. “You don’t stutter when you sing because there’s music in your soul. I hope to help you find it again.”
A psychic, an ex-priest, and two shifters walk into a bar… But it’s no laughing matter. All hell’s about to break loose.
Gael Fournier is harboring a secret—one that threatens to jeopardize his brothers at the Citadel and their fated mates. Broken, scarred, he refuses to open up to anyone, especially his partner Elijah.
Unwanted, Elijah Marley fights to break through to Gael anyway. Watching him from afar, nothing he does seems to pierce the wall around the Frenchman’s heart.
One chance meeting brings them face to face with their fated mate, Sam Henderson, a psychic medium who talks to the dead. Gael’s hostile reaction drives Elijah into the arms of another whose destiny is linked to theirs.
Angry, alone, Gael unknowingly walks into the clutches of the monster who’s been stalking him the whole time. After Elijah is unwittingly thrown into danger, too, it’s up to Sam and Father James Carver to race to the rescue of both men.
Not an easy task when their enemy is a vampire hell-bent on claiming and keeping what’s his….
Shifters with a sci-fi twist, Guarded Hearts Season One (Books 1-7) follows members of The Order of the Phoenix. Each book in this interconnected storyline provides a happily-ever-after for the main characters. While the first book of Season One can be read as a stand-alone, the following titles need to be read in order, beginning with Morgan (Guarded Hearts Book 1).
This story has potential triggers, including forced compliance. MMFM ménage erotic romance with MF, MM, and MMF scenes, written for Ages 18+.
“Sammy, get that one to bend over for me, would you, hon, so I can check out those tight buns of his in those jeans?” she murmured.
Sam bit her lip and swallowed down her reply. She’d had plenty of weird looks when people thought she was talking to herself. No one could see Grandma. They only heard her one-sided conversation which made things awkward.
“Oh, yeah, come to Grandma,” the old woman crooned, circling around behind the men and eyeing their tushes.
Please don’t get handsy, Grandma, she mentally warned and hoped she was listening in. Bum pinching was Ellie Mae Henderson’s afterlife obsession. Okay. Sam would admit they were both drop-dead gorgeous. The blond had a broody, bad boy vibe going and the other one’s smile was bright and friendly. His eyes twinkled and there was something about him that made her warm all over. She really needed to get laid. It had been months since her last hook up. Not since North Carolina. Her grandmother’s inability to keep her hands to herself had ended every relationship she’d ever been in. Her longest had lasted a month until he’d gotten spooked. Once Grandma got grabby, it was goodbye, boyfriend.
“Come on, girl! Don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open. Charm these fine young men. Winner, winner, chicken dinner. Play your cards right and you’ll have some dark and white meat in your bed tonight. If it makes you feel any better, I promise I won’t watch.”
Talk about killing the mood. Sam shook herself and focused on the men who’d come with Prince.
“I’m Sam,” she repeated. “And you are…?”
“Elijah Marley.” The handsome black man with the blinding smile had a Jamaican accent. He had his hands full holding the Irish wolfhound, who was straining to check out Gus.
She looked expectantly at the broody one, a tragic blond with a dark shroud clinging to his shoulders.
“Gael Fournier,” he clipped in a French accent, as unhappy to be here as Elijah was delighted.
She intuited that they were partners but they sure didn’t act like it. If they were in a committed relationship, it was on the rocks. She sensed a separation looming with a chance of a reunion. The future had yet to be determined. It would have to be both their choices to make things work. Otherwise they were doomed to fail.
Which was too bad. They really were a beautiful couple.
Sighing, she wished them well. Just her luck to attract two gay men. She seemed to have a knack for it.
“And this is Prince,” she hummed, dropping to her knees. Putting her hand beneath his muzzle, she looked him squarely in the eye. “They tell me that you’ve been chasing a cat. Want to tell me what that’s all about, hmm?”
In her mind’s eye, Sam saw a blanket that used to be the dog’s. Somehow the cat had gotten hold of it and hidden it.
“You need to help them find it,” Grandma told her. “Go on! Tell them what you saw! If anyone can handle your truth, it’s these boys. Trust me.”
Sam lifted her chin and met their gazes, shifting hers back and forth between the two of them.
“The cat—Gibbs?” she asked Prince, double-checking what she thought he said. “Prince says that Gibbs stole his blanket. He’s only been trying to get it back. The cat’s hiding it somewhere on the property. If you like, Gus and I can do a search-and-rescue…, help find it and restore peace in the household. I’m afraid Prince isn’t going to stop until he gets it back. He barely tolerated the cat before this. He seriously dislikes him now. Sneaky thief, he says. And my precious. Dear Lord. He says he likes Lord of the Rings on movie night. This is one seriously fine animal you have.”
Gael remained stonily silent, eyeing her with suspicion. He wouldn’t trust easily. There were scars on his soul that might never heal.
Elijah looked at her in wonder. “You are a conjure woman, yes?” he asked. “You see things. Hear things.”
Gael curled his lip and made a scoffing sound.
Sam refused to apologize for her gifts. “I don’t do spellwork,” she told them. “I don’t intentionally conjure things, but I do hear them. Spirits. Animals. Trees. My grandmother. She’s gone but she’s still very much with me. My gifts are what let Gus and I be such a successful search-and-rescue team. When the trail goes cold, I can point him in the right direction until he picks it up again. Look, I know this is as unconventional a class as what you could imagine, but I’m happy to give you a refund. I just want to help Prince find his blanket. And I’ll have a talk with Gibbs while I’m at it. Hopefully, he’ll see the error of his ways. With cats, it’s hard to say. Too many of them remember when they were worshiped as gods.”
“Yes!” Elijah agreed excitedly. “We would be honored with your presence and help in our home.”
Gael’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say a word. The look in his eyes, though, spoke volumes. He didn’t believe a word she was saying—or at least he refused to.
“Great!” Sam replied, brightly ignoring the cold blue eyes directed at her and Grandma’s satisfied smirk. “Let’s start the lesson and then we can work out when I can come over.”
Prince turned out to be a good listener. Full of energy with a boisterous nature, he loved to play. Gus was a good influence on him. Well-trained and patient, her partner helped to show the younger dog what he was supposed to do. By the time the lesson was up, Prince and Elijah both were more confident with each other. Unlike Gael, who hung at the back of the room like a storm cloud. He hadn’t attempted to interact. Instead, he’d watched and silently judged.
“That one’s a project.” Grandma commented, eyeing the Frenchman. “He needs someone to take him in hand.”
Sam’s traitorous thoughts slid to a certain part of his anatomy she would love to take in hand. From the way he filled out his jeans, he wasn’t short or small in that department. Feeling her cheeks heat in a blush, she shook herself. Holy Batman, what was she thinking?
Although Elijah could be the actor Henry Cavill’s crotch double if there was such a thing. Her attention settled on the Jamaican’s natural endowment. The ridge in his pants reached to the side of his hip. It looked like he was housing an anaconda down there and growing by the second the more she watched.
“Oh, child,” Grandma chuckled. “Just wait until you unwrap it. It’s going to be like Christmas Day come early!”
Sam choked on the breath she’d just inhaled. They’re gay. She could sense a connection between them and her gift never failed.
Although, they could be bi…
“Bi,” Grandma confirmed, then sang it like NSYNC. “Bi, bi, bi…”
Sam and James walked to where the path divided, one side heading for the chapel, the other winding its way through the gardens. The property was softly lit from the glow of security lights that reached some of the flagstone walk. She let Gus mark a tree, wrapped his lead securely around her hand, and told him, “Find Grandma.”
Gus took off toward the back of the chapel. The spirit of Ellie Mae Henderson was walking the labyrinth, singing, “Follow the yellow brick road,” and spouting quotes from The Wizard of Oz and Airplane!
“It’s a twister! It’s a twister! Don’t call me Shirley!”
“What should I call you, then?” Sam whispered, not knowing if there were other ears around. James was in the chapel but Gael was missing. He could be out here somewhere, moping in the dark.
“Nope,” Grandma told her, reading her mind again. “There’s no one here but me, myself, and I—and now you and Gus and that good-looking man of the cloth on his knees in the chapel. You should check on him, Sam. Father James is in a world of hurt right now. He’s used to being the rock for everyone else, but he needs to feel an anchor, too, even if it’s the weight of a therapy dog.”
Sam had to hand it to Grandma. She hadn’t considered offering the comfort that Gus could provide someone. How many times had she seen him go to someone upset, someone in mourning, and accept their hugs and tears? “All right,” she said. “We’ll go. Will you stay here or are you coming in?”
Her late grandmother didn’t skip a beat. “I’ll stay here,” she chirped. “I’m still looking to catch me an elf—or a leprechaun! They’ve got ‘em, mark my words!”
If that’s what her grandmother believed, Sam wasn’t about to try and dissuade her, especially if it kept her out here and away from James.
Sam led Gus to the door of the chapel and stopped just outside it, wondering whether or not she should take him in. James might benefit from some pet therapy, but her instincts told her that he needed the human touch more. The comfort and support of an understanding, nonjudgmental soul might make all the difference to him right now.
Slipping inside, she spied James in the second row of pews, kneeling in prayer with his head bowed over his hands clasping the back of the seat in front of him.
His shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. She could feel his anguish from here.
Tying Gus to the coat rack in the back, she walked softly to the front, making just enough noise to let him know he wasn’t alone. She didn’t want to startle him when she slipped into the pew beside him and placed a healing hand over his back heart chakra.
“He’s going to be alright,” she promised, as certain of that as she was of anything right now.
“It’s my fault,” James choked out. “If I hadn’t gotten greedy. If I’d only stayed… By the time I saw what was going on, it was too late.”
“You were there when he needed you to be. If they’d taken you down first, there’d have been no one to intervene. You saved him, James. I was there, too, remember?”
Straightening in his seat, he swiveled his head to meet her gaze. In the thin light of the room, she could see the sheen of tears on his skin. Finding the bottom of her broomstick skirt, she raised her hem and dried his face.
“As for what happened before… you were needy, not greedy,” she said softly. “We all have needs. There’s no judgment here. Elijah sees the same things in you that I do. You’re a good man. A strong man. An honorable man. Someone he can connect with in a way that he doesn’t seem to with Gael. I’m worried about him,” she confessed. “Something doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know what it is and my guides aren’t saying anything.”
He looked at her, puzzlement in his eyes as he tried to sort out what she was saying.
“Who are you?” His voice was thick with emotion, his mind full of questions.
“Someone you’ve known before. In other lifetimes. Other places. Tell me you don’t feel it, too.”
He blinked, trying to clear his vision. “I don’t totally discount the idea of reincarnation, given that it’s referenced in the Bible, but I’ve never… I mean, I don’t see how…”
“You’re only shown what’s allowed when it’s time,” she explained. “Maybe one day you’ll remember—or maybe not at all. Because of my mission, I’m allowed to recall more than most. I’m a psychic medium. And you, Sir, are a very old soul. It’s nice to meet you again.”
Hopefully, things would be better for them this time. She sensed that their last lifetime together didn’t end well. The longer they were together, the stronger the impressions Sam was receiving. Why he felt so familiar was now making sense.
“I wish…” She stopped herself before she said too much. She wished that she’d found him first. Wished that they’d found Elijah together. In her mind’s eye, she could see the three of them happy and in love.
The kind of love they’d shared before, despite the laws, despite society and family and religious institutions. She sensed they’d risked everything once.
What about now?
Throwing caution to the wind, she lifted her hand and cupped the side of the ex-priest’s face, learning the feel of him. The warmth of his skin. The short thatch of beard. Leaning forward, she slipped her hand behind his head and urged him closer, lifting her forehead to press against his. They stayed like that for long, soul-searching minutes, sharing each other’s breaths, struggling not to overanalyze but to accept.
James heaved a cleansing breath, letting go, releasing the shackles of guilt that had bound him. Sensing it, she rewarded him with the soft brush of her lips on his, a tentative kiss, not demanding a response.
He went still, locked in an internal struggle. Thanks to her actions, he faced a moral dilemma. What was right? What was fair? Different races. Different backgrounds. Different genders.
What about Elijah?
Sam kissed him again, needing him to see what she did, that whatever had sparked between them was worth pursuing. She teased the seam of his lips, probing his defenses, not letting up until he’d surrendered to the moment.
Surrendered to her.
Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he finally took control and kissed her back.
Sam swore she heard a chorus of angels singing hosannas and smiled.
Emmett and Theo fight to trust the woman who was forced to betray them.
Partners Emmett and Theo are kidnapped by a shadowy organization bent on learning their secrets. Taken to a private lab, they meet Dr. Riley Walker, the brilliant, beautiful geneticist charged with discovering what they are.
While Riley believes they’re aliens, Theo and Emmett realize she’s their mate. But she’s also the enemy—
Or so it seems.
Theo and Emmett aren’t the only ones with something to hide.
The three are caught up in things they can’t control. Nefarious forces are at play. Unseen eyes are watching them. After Riley is forced to betray them, the feelings the partners have for the new female in their life take a twisted turn.
When truths are exposed, the whole cadre’s mission is put at risk. Emmett and Theo must fight for the woman who’s destined to be theirs or lose her to a dark, dark fate.
Shifters with a sci-fi twist, Guarded Hearts Season One (Books 1-7) follows members of The Order of the Phoenix. Each book in this interconnected storyline provides a happily-ever-after for the main characters. While the first book of Season One can be read as a stand-alone, the following titles will be more fully enjoyed and understood if they are read in order, beginning with Morgan (Guarded Hearts Book 1). MMF ménage erotic romance with MM scenes, written for Ages 18+.
Riley knew better than to argue. Skinner was the puppet master, pulling all of their strings. Retreating to the cafeteria, she took a seat and waited, watching the clock and observing others who came in for coffee or something to eat. Skinner’s pet, Dr. Lewis, gave a nod of acknowledgment and disappeared through the kitchen door. When he didn’t come out, she assumed that Skinner had sent him to make certain his orders were followed to the letter.
A short time later, the chef with a laden cart and Dr. Lewis appeared. Mouths shaped with knowing smirks, the two men eyed her like a piece of breakfast meat.
Christ. Did everyone know what Skinner wanted? He was no better than a pimp, expecting her to use her sexuality to get the results he wanted, samples of body fluids he could test for DNA.
“Here’s everything you requested,” the chef announced, pushing the stainless steel cart into place beside her.
The top held three trays with covered dishes and three steaming mugs of hot beverages.
Riley arched an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
“Black coffee, Earl Grey, and a mocha latte for you,” Dr. Lewis answered smoothly, pointing to each in turn. “I advised Skinner that sharing a meal with the specimens would make them more at ease around you.”
It made sense. Eating together might allow her to form a bond with the subjects—or at least help Emmett to lower his guard and let her explore things with Theo. It was a unique opportunity, giving her an excuse to spend time with them and providing the means to study them up close.
Dr. Lewis followed her, whistling softly, making her feel increasingly leery about this whole thing. Skinner had sent him to observe her interactions with their subjects. The cameras were impersonal, something she was aware of but had learned to ignore. Having a witness seemed… lurid. Voyeuristic rather than scientific, despite what her rational mind said. Skinner expected results. It was in her best interest to see that he got them. If she failed, she feared that all three of them would suffer.
One of the guards reached to open the door.
Hearing her name from Skinner’s minion, she fought the urge to not shudder with dread. “Yes, Dr. Lewis?”
“Good luck,” he said smoothly. “We’ll be watching your interactions closely.”
Riley’s stomach somersaulted unpleasantly at the thought. Taking a deep steady breath, she wheeled the laden cart into the cell, suppressing a shudder when the door clanged shut behind her.
Emmett and Theo were waiting for her.
The Englishman cocked an eyebrow above his glasses when he saw the cart. Moving to inspect the contents, he lifted the plate covers and nodded in approval. “Well done, Miss Walker.”
Theo beamed, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. “Thank you.”
“I thought we could share breakfast together,” she told them. “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll serve you?”
They exchanged a look. Again, that silent communication, one of them eager, the other taciturn. Having no other options, they sat on the bottom bunk with Emmett at the head and Theo in the middle, leaving room for her at the foot of the bed.
They ate in silence. Riley was aware of the sidelong looks Theo sent her way.
Emmett ignored her.
“I hope your tea’s alright. I’m more of a coffee drinker myself,” she commented, enjoying her mocha.
“It’s acceptable,” the Englishman clipped, sounding annoyed at her attempt to engage him.
Theo cleaned his plate and drained his coffee cup. Finishing her breakfast, Riley cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably on her perch. There was a spreading warmth coursing through her veins, leaving her feeling flushed and filling her with an awareness of her body.
Emmett was the last to finish, his throat muscles working as he drank the rest of his tea.
Sitting beside her, Theo had satisfied one hunger but another one burgeoned. He pushed the tray away enough for his erection to rise rampant behind his fly.
Licking her lips, Riley eyed the massive wood he was sporting. Was it hot in here or was it just her? Even Theo and Emmet were starting to look flushed. The gazes they turned on her were both lustful and fevered.
“You have generous breasts,” Theo announced boldly, reaching out to cup one through her top. “And hips that were made for bearing young. Hair as golden as the sun and those lips…”
Riley suddenly felt like a deer caught in the sight of two predators. The Greek had never shown signs of being so forward before.
“My pet is right,” Emmett agreed. “You are a beautiful creature. I’m certain most men find you stunning. You’d look even more beautiful bound.”
In the blink of an eye, Theo had dropped his tray on the floor and plucked hers from her hands. Pulling her to her feet, he hauled her against him, fisted her hair, and ravaged her mouth with the hottest kiss she’d ever experienced. A switch, she thought dimly. He was submissive to Emmett, but he was clearly set on dominating her, bending her to his will.
Dragging her with him, he tore off her top and ripped off her bra, tossing both of them aside. He bent his dark head and licked her nipples, tasting them both before turning her around and bending her over the top of the cart. He pinned her in place with his rock-hard body while Emmett pulled the sheet from the bunk, caught the edge in his teeth, and ripped four strips.
He used two of them to lash her wrists to the top of the cart. Locking the wheels, he grabbed one ankle and tied it to the caster, repeating the action on the other side, securing her parted legs as effectively as using a spreader bar.
Part of her mind was screaming no, but her body was clearly responding to his domination. Bound, helpless, feeling Theo dry-hump her ass, Riley gasped, trying to catch her breath. Her brain had sunken into a strange haze and she felt needy and aroused. A tiny voice was warning her something was wrong. This wasn’t like her. It certainly wasn’t like Emmett. All three of them seemed under the influence of something. Whatever it was had both males firmly in its grip.
Theo growled from somewhere behind her. The material of her skirt was hiked up over her hips, her panties pushed aside. Riley moaned at the first lick of a tongue against her pussy lips. Straying hands pried her ass cheeks apart, testing the flesh.
Emmett stood in front of her, his expression scorching her down to her toes. “That’s it, pet. Taste her. Shove your fingers inside her tight little cunny then fuck her with your tongue.”
Palming himself, the Englishman fondled the ridge jutting up the front of his lab-issued pants. He might not want her, but he didn’t seem to mind that Theo did.
The Greek growled, his breath hot and his tongue hotter against her intimate flesh. Inhaling sharply, he licked her slit and shoved his tongue as deep as it would go. Tasting her thoroughly, he stopped his cunnilingus and added a thick, callused finger, stretching her out before adding a second and a third. He jacked his arm, pistoning in and out, fucking her with his hand when she was dying for his cock.
Emmett seemed to read her growing distress. “Those lips,” he murmured. “I want to punish them. Ravage them. I want to fuck the glasses off your face and silence your moans with my cock when Theo tries to fit his inside you. This is what you like, isn’t it?” he asked. “Bound. Helpless. Forced to submit to alien domination? Telling yourself you have no choice but responding to us anyway. Your body doesn’t lie. The air has been thick with the scent of your arousal from the moment you stepped into this room the first time with that pitiful excuse of a meal. Here’s something tastier.”
Fisting her hair, he muffled her gasp with his erection, pushing down his pants, whipping it out, and shoving it between her parted lips. She knew what Theo smelled like, having closer contact. This scent was pure Emmett, male musk and slightly woodsy.
“Open wide,” he growled, pushing his dick in deeper. “Suck me while Theo fucks you.”
She felt the Greek pull his fingers from her pussy. Wetting his glans on her juices, he notched his head in her opening and forged his way inside, stretching her out, wedging in deeper, forcing his girth into her snug, wet sheath.
Riley squealed. He was so big, it felt like he was ripping her in two. Emmett controlled the movements of her head, ramming his cock down her throat. It was an overload of pleasure and pain. Writhing, twitching she was shunted back and forth between them. Both men seemed aroused almost to the point of losing control. Riley was feeling the same way. It was if all her inhibitions had disintegrated and left a wanton sexual creature in its place. Her universe shrank to this, being a vessel for their pleasure, Emmett using her mouth, Theo terraforming her vagina. No offense to Emmett, but Theo seemed set on spoiling her for other men, ruining her for anyone else, making her crave that massive cock of his. She didn’t know whether or not she was disappointed or relieved that no knobs or spikes had come out. She did know the moment he shifted angles and started ramming her G-spot. Seeing stars when her first orgasm ripped through her, she felt Emmett’s immediate response. Close to coming, he managed to pull out before he finished, allowing her the barest taste of him before he jacked off on her face like they were making bukkake porn.
“Outside her,” he reminded his partner.
She swore she felt Theo’s answering pout.
Headed for an unsatisfactory finish, she squeezed the length of Theo’s cock, making her walls ripple, milking his length. Sticking out her tongue, she licked the tip of Emmett’s erection, catching the last drop of cum that he squeezed out. It wasn’t as bitter as she was expecting. If anything, one taste made her crave more. Reaching with her tongue, she cleaned what she could from her face and swallowed it, earning a growl of approval from the Englishman.
A second later, Theo pulled out and exploded on her back, shooting ropes of cum in the valley of her spine. Emmett took charge, cleaning her face, wiping every trace of himself, and flushing it away. She thought that they’d do the same with Theo’s ejaculate… until she felt someone’s fingers scrape it up to wet her anus.
She held her breath, wondering what they intended, surprised to feel that they were both hard again. This time, Theo came to stand before her, fisting that massive meat of his while Emmett pressed against her sphincter, demanding entrance to her most intimate place. “Let me in,” he demanded, giving her no option but to obey. Forcing herself to relax, she held her breath while he sank his length inside her. “That’s it. That’s it, little miss. Now open wide for Theo…”
The pandemic has struck and play weekends are canceled at Replay BDSM theme resort after one of the owner’s wife’s patients tests positive. The few patrons still there agree to self-quarantine with a two-week all-inclusive stay. While Sir Piers remains home with his family, it’s left to his executive assistant Kitten and his administrative assistant Samael to see that things run smoothly at the resort.
One of their guests is triple-platinum recording artist Thaddeus Rhodes, a tattooed, bearded Daddy Dom who’s into steampunk cosplay. Thaddeus thinks it’s a shame that Kitten takes care of everyone else and no one takes care of this little.
Faced with two weeks of lockdown, Kitten comes up with a list of things to help to pass the time. What starts out as a game of ways to please this Daddy quickly evolves into something much, much more.
This story includes consensual power exchange, DD/lg ageplay, partner sharing, domestic discipline, and bisexual ménage scenes. If any of this offends you, please don’t buy this book. Written for Ages 18+.
Author’s Note: Kitten has been a secondary character in the first eleven Replay books. It was wonderful to finally meet her. I love that Kitten finds her perfect Daddy Dom just in time for Father’s Day!
He was a Dominant without a permanent submissive and Kitten was a little who needed a Daddy. Before today, he’d only known her professionally as Sir Piers’s executive assistant and an integral part of what made Replay BDSM theme resort successful. He would never have encroached on Sir Piers’s territory, would never have offered to be her Dominant, but the circumstances they found themselves had him doing things that were, in short, extraordinary.
They’d both been potentially exposed to a deadly virus. In two weeks, they’d know if their self-quarantine was a necessary precaution. Meanwhile, he had music weaving itself in his head and a little whose ass needed reddened for working through her lunchtime.
Not good at all.
She eyed the ornate cage in the corner with a mix of anticipation and trepidation—and who could blame her? He’d told her what he intended to do. He was going to spank her bottom, tuck her inside, and keep her there until she was truly repentant. What he hadn’t told her was what would happen next. When she was full of remorse and riddled with angst about what she could do to please him, he planned to bind her arms to the bars and take her where she stood…
Crawling to the door of her cage, she sat back on her heels in a Gorean pose and waited for him to notice. He made her wait a minute more while he finished whatever he was typing on his tablet before hitting send and closing it.
“Well, little miss. Are you going to share what’s in that busy mind of yours? Have you thought of ways to please me?”
She knew men. He’d be expecting the usual. A blow job. Vaginal sex. Anal sex. A lap dance. A strip routine. Things men typically envisioned for immediate gratification.
“I think so, Daddy. I hope so. First, I’d like to dress like Bindi in Iron Domination and play hide-and-seek with you aboard the Nebula.”
If he’d read the books (and judging by the beard-shadowed curl of his lips, he had), he’d know exactly where to find her.
“I like the way you think, little girl. Go on.”
“When you’ve found me, I’ll give you a bath like Bindi does Adams…, rub your feet and massage your neck before bed.”
Only two, and he was already hard for her.
“In the morning, I’ll cook you breakfast and serve it to you on a tray wearing nothing but a smile.”
He liked the sound of that, too.
“Three,” he counted.
“After dinner that night, we can play a game of chess. The winner gets to pick what porn to watch and act out.”
“That’s four,” he hummed. “One more.”
“I could give Daddy a massage,” she offered.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re already giving me one after my bath.”
“But this is different,” she swore. “Special. It’s internal massage. A prostate massage.”
“Five,” he rumbled, reaching for the door.
“And then,” she breathed, “I’ll polish your knob—” she left it hanging, letting his imagination run wild “—on your walking stick. The silver-gripped one. It’s too heavy to use for impact play, but I can help you find another cane to use. Or you can make me cut a switch.”
“Six,” he rasped, curling his fingers around his erection and rubbing himself through his fly.
“One more,” she added, licking her lips for effect. “I want to give Daddy head while massaging his prostate. I want you to come down my throat and make me swallow every drop.”
The heat in his eyes was incendiary.
“My turn,” he growled. “I want to tie you to the sides of the cage. Clamp your nipples. Suck your clit. Get you wet and fuck you through the bars with my fingers digging into your hips so hard, you’ll be wearing my bruises tomorrow and feeling my dick for days. In your pussy. In your ass. What’s your safeword, pet? One to slow and one to stop.”
She could get creative later. Right now, she needed fucked. “Yellow and red, Daddy. Yellow to slow and red to stop. Please…,” she begged, eyes widening when he unbuttoned his fly and she saw the size of his erection. He was huge. Massive. Nine inches long and nearly as thick as her wrist.
There was no way he was going to fit.
Daddy smirked. “I like it when you beg,” he rumbled. “I want to make you squeal. Put your back against the bars, elbows out, arms bent, hands up. I’ll tie you with enough give to let you move a bit. It’s more fun that way.”
Goodreads TBR Guarded Hearts Series Pinterest Board
Unseen enemies threaten the newest fated mate and her child.
Nurse practitioner and midwife Raven O’Malley has no idea what she’ll be getting into when she takes on her newest client, who lives at the Citadel with not one but two handsome men. The other cadre members are equally attractive but it’s Cayden McPherson and Killian O’Connell who set their sights on her.
Raven has enough to deal with. A daughter, a puppy, a demanding job, and a mobster ex-husband. Now a blackmailer wants her to spy on the Citadel or she risks her daughter’s life.
The cadre members know there are forces of darkness to battle and evil exists in both worlds. Can Cayden and Killian protect the woman they love or will they lose her to enemies seen and unseen?
Shifters with a sci-fi twist, the Guarded Hearts series follows members of the Order of the Phoenix. While interconnected, each title can be read as a stand-alone. MFM ménage erotic romance written for Ages 18+.
Cayden was just leaving the kitchen when she caught up to him.
“We need to talk,” she snapped. Catching his hand, she dragged him down the hall and into the infirmary. “What the feck is going on?” she demanded.
Cayden frowned. “What?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“They know,” she grated. “Casey. Morgan. The others. They know about us. What did you tell them? What did you say?”
The medic rubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath. “Ye’re nae gang tae like it,” he warned. “We’ve been holding off, telling ye because of it, but there’s no help for it now, is there? Yer scent is enough tae make it clear that we’ve done the deed,” he told her. “Our kind can smell when a woman goes through the flux and her body is transformed. Ye need to talk to Morgan and Casey about what they went through, but Casey’s experience is like tae be closer. Morgan’s change was put off when she ingested vampire blood—”
“Vampires?” Raven stared at him, incredulous. “You’re telling me that there are vampires? That they’re real.”
He nodded, his green eyes as serious as she’d ever seen them. “They are that,” he told her. “One targeted Morgan. We killed it, but another one kidnapped her. We got her back and cleaned out the nest. We think we got them all now.”
“You think. You think? Jaysus, Joseph, and Mary! You should have told me!” she yelled at him. “Bloody hell! You and your mate could have told me any time, but you didn’t say a damn word, just lured me upstairs and had your way with me. You’ve changed my body without my consent. Now I’ve put my daughter in danger after thinking I was bringing her to a sanctuary. My ex kept things from me. I’m warning you right now, I expect full disclosure in the future or there’s going to be hell to pay. Do you hear me?”
She poked him in the chest to make her point.
Cayden released the breath he’d been holding. “Let me call Killian, then. Get him down here. If we’re gang tae hae a heart-tae-heart, it needs tae be the three of us.
Zana was with Willow and Prince. Free to come, Killian joined them as soon as he could make his way downstairs. “What’s up?” he asked, picking up the tension in the air.
“She knows,” Cayden told him. “Or knows the start of it, anyway. She’s demanded full disclosure. It’s better tae hear it from the both of us than tae hear it from one and again from the other.”
Killian nodded. “Ye’re the medic. I’ll let ye explain the way of things.”
“We’ve told ye what we are, that these robes of flesh have four strands of DNA. When a fated mate is found, the introduction of sperm starts the transformation process to change her body, making it compatible, able to conceive and bear children.”
“I don’t understand,” Raven clipped. “I can’t have children. I told you that. It shouldn’t have affected me.”
“But it did,” Killian assured her. “We don’t understand it either, but we knew from the first that you were the one for us, the woman to complete us. The males of our kind experience what we call the quickening. It’s a physical response to a fated mate. Lets us know that she’s the one. We felt it with ye. We will not question God’s will. Ye were chosen for us. Transformed by us. But there are other things…”
Raven was seething at their disregard for her. “And you thought it was just fine to go and do it because it’s all in the plan?” she grated. “You gave no thought to what I wanted or the fact it’s not just me. Do you know how selfish that is? How arrogant?” She buried her face in her hands. “I really can’t deal with this right now. I should get Willow and Prince and pack up the damn car and get the hell out while I can.”
“Ye need tae listen,” Cayden told her, lowering his voice in a way that did strange things to her insides. Grasping her biceps, he pulled her easily to him. She wanted to grind against him. Use him like they’d used her. How dare they!
Raven struggled to break free, clawing at his arms deep enough to leave bloody scratches when he refused to let her go.
She went still when she saw the gouges healing before her eyes.
“Full disclosure,” Cayden growled in that voice of his. “This is a hint of my true voice. It has power… affects people in different ways. Mine will make ye wish to obey. Doctor’s orders.” He said it half-jokingly, but the man was deadly serious. “Iosefa’s will put someone tae sleep. The new mothers are sure tae keep him on call when the bairns get here and they need some rest. These bodies hae regenerative powers. Accelerated healing. Lack of scarring. But the thing ye need most tae understand is that ye’ll live as long as us.”
Raven’s solar plexus chakra closed tight enough to cause a cramp. “And how long is that?” she said, afraid to ask.
“Three hundred years, give or take,” Cayden told her.
“Three…?” She stared at him, caught in a nightmare that had just gotten worse. “You’re saying I’ll live three hundred years? And what about Willow? What about my daughter? You bastards! You bloody bastards! And don’t go using that voice on me,” she warned them. “I will never forgive you for this. Never!”
“Raven,” Killian crooned, trying to make peace. “We love you. We’d never do anything to put you in harm’s way or come between you and your child. We want Willow to be our daughter, too, the child that we wished for but will never have. Tobias said there’s a chance that she’s a fated mate for one of our kind, but Theo thinks her destiny lies elsewhere, with a fae princeling who’s waiting fer her to grow up.”
“You love me,” she scoffed. “You don’t know what love is. We had sex. We scratched an itch. Satisfied a physical need. I didn’t know you enough for it to be more. I still don’t.”
“Please,” Killian begged her. “We’re asking fer the chance to prove ourselves to ye.”
Raven felt anger, rage, but there was also lust. It was so fierce, she found herself responding before she was aware of it. Grabbing the back of Killian’s head, she forced his lips down on hers. There was no control. Just overwhelming attraction merging with her turbulent emotions. She wanted to make them pay for what they’d done. Show them that their desire was meaningless. Not if they didn’t have her heart. That wouldn’t happen now. Not after such a betrayal. How could she trust them?
Killian didn’t resist but responded by thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Reaching with her free hand, she fisted a handful of Cayden’s shirt and drew him to her. Two mouths fought to claim her lips. Their bodies crowded hers until her hips hit the examination table.
Fueled by anger, driven by revenge, she grabbed Killian’s collar and pushed him into one of the two armless stack chairs against the wall. Reaching down, she judged his hardness and took him out.
“I want you ready for me,” she told him. Ignoring Cayden, she stripped off her clothes and knelt between Killian’s feet, giving him a blow job he didn’t deserve but that her body needed to handle him. When he was wet enough, she stood up and straddled him like a stripper about to give him the lap dance of his dreams. Taking his erection in hand, she stroked her slit with his glans, parted her folds, and sank down on his shaft, working it like a dildo, a tool for her particular pleasure.
It wasn’t long, she grew greedy for more. “You,” she snapped at Cayden. “Pants off. Cock lubed. On the stool and over here.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice.
Cayden dropped his drawers and slickened himself up. Sitting on the wheeled examination stool, he did as ordered and rolled it between Killian’s feet. It was just low enough, he was shy of reaching her. Grasping her hips, he rose from the stool and found her star.
“No! Not there,” she snapped. “I want you both in my pussy. Bang my box like it’s never been banged. Think you can handle that?”
Cayden growled and showed her that he was up to the challenge. She rose partway up and held herself still while Cayden pressed his cock against Killian’s and worked his way inside, sinking his length into her, inch by inch until both men were ball’s deep inside her.
She lifted herself up and rammed herself back down. Killian groaned. Cayden’s stool went flying. She sank down on their cocks again and again, using them like they’d used her, coming once, twice, three times before the men shuddered to a finish inside her. Cayden eased out of her and grabbed some paper towels, handing them to her to stuff between her legs. She dismounted, tossing one of the towels at Killian to use. Finding her clothes, she started dressing, wordless, lecturing herself that she had no reason to feel guilty for using them as fecktoys. It was no more than they deserved after what they’d done to her.
“Raven,” Cayden crooned.
“No voice!” she snarled, shoving her feet into her shoes. “Not a word. From either of you! This was sex. Sex! Lust, not love. Now you know the difference. Don’t ever confuse them again.”
She left them without a backward glance and headed upstairs, blinking the sting of tears from her eyes, refusing to feel anything beyond the physical releases that she’d had. By the time she reached the fourth-floor guest suite, she’d sworn off all men.
“Out,” she warned Zana, giving him a look that told him she meant what she said.
The Persian was confused but obeyed, shutting the door behind him.
“How’s Prince doing?” she asked her daughter, memorizing the picture the two of them made. She’d be the one consoling Willow when she watched her puppy grow old and die. Who the feck was going to console her when she lost her child?
Thanks to Cayden and Killian, she was doomed to outlive her daughter. They could take their tall tales of vampires and fairy princes and shove them up their arses. If they knew what was good for them, they’d leave them the bloody hell alone.
She was here for Casey and Morgan, but Willow was her world.
A photojournalist caught trying to enter Replay under an alias learns her lesson under a Dominant congressman.
It’s Carnevale in Replay’s newest edition to the BDSM theme resort where patrons roleplay in the past. Renaissance Venice will be brought to life in the Doge’s Palace. Masked attendees include celebrities, billionaires, politicians, business tycoons, Replay Dominants and their submissives, and one very nervous photojournalist. Hopefully, no one will recognize Mikaela in her elaborate wig and mask.
The Dominant assigned to Mikaela Roberts knows exactly who she is, but Congressman Devon O’Rourke has no idea why she’s here. After years of investigative reporting, Mikaela has come to learn the truth about herself. But first, she’ll have to prove herself to her temporary Dom, and that may prove as hard as resisting her growing attraction to a man who wishes that she was anywhere but here.
Naughty Carnevale is a BDSM erotic romance with adult themes and consensual power exchange, written for Ages 18+. The Replay Reunions are companion short stories to the Replay series, which includes two Golden Flogger Finalists for Best BDSM Book of the Year.
Sir Declan led her to the shaped metal cage suspended in the corner over a drain grate.
She had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.
He opened the door and made a point of looking inside it. “Mask on. Clothes off,” he said smoothly. “An hour in here, then it’s twenty strokes with a crop.”
“Thirty,” he said, daring her to say something more.
Public humiliation followed by corporal punishment. She was never so grateful for her mask. If she was lucky, no one witnessing her shame would recognize her. No one but the congressman from Utah would realize how turned on she was right now, knowing that he’d have to help her undress, that he’d be watching every inch of skin that she exposed. That he could touch her anywhere, anytime he wanted with his large, strong, capable hands.
“Armand!” he called, motioning to one of the wardrobe assistants who’d been watching the rock star get flogged. “She’s ready.”
Adding to her indignities, the congressman delegated the task of helping her disrobe to a man who had no interest in women. Armand undressed her, removing layer after layer until the only things left were her wig and her mask while Sir Declan watched, his expression inscrutable.
She stood, blushing furiously beneath her mask while Sir Declan inspected her, front and back. Just when she thought her humiliation couldn’t be worse, he pulled a green glass anal plug from his pocket.
“Come,” he said, sounding too damned pleased with himself. “Bend over the spanking bench. Good. Now stay while I fetch some oil.”
She closed her eyes, jumping when she felt his hand on her bottom. Spreading her cheeks, he drizzled oil down her crack then pressed the plug into place, working it in and out as if testing her ability to take it up the ass.
She’d marked vaginal, oral, and anal as things she was willing to do. She wasn’t adventurous enough to consider double penetration but she’d put down fisting as something she’d consider. She wished she knew what he liked or was likely to try. She’d rather have an idea what to expect next than to get blindsided by something she hadn’t seen coming.
Like being plugged and put on display for everyone to see. It was a far sight better than being gibbeted or put in an iron maiden.
He pushed the plug firmly into place and tapped the end. Her greedy pussy wanted more. Hot, swollen, her vulva throbbed and her vagina clenched, squeezing out juices that trickled down her thigh.
Naked as she was, there was no hiding her arousal. The air was thick with her musk and her nipples felt hard enough to cut diamonds. He stood over her, watching her, gauging her reactions. Satisfied, he ordered her to follow him back to the cage in the corner.
The stone floor was surprisingly warm beneath her feet. Mikaela realized that Sir Piers had built it with radiant heat beneath it so submissives were less apt to get chilled. The room was warm enough for nudity, which might explain why some of the Dominants were stripped to the waist while they did scenes with their subs.
“In you go,” Sir Declan ordered, holding the cage still for her to step inside.
Mikaela felt a twinge of panic, realizing that she’d just drunk water and shed her clothes. There’s no way that she could last an hour in a basement cage without making a mess of things.
She tried to warn him. “Sir, I need to visit the ladies’ room.”
“Forty,” he rumbled, showing neither mercy nor patience with her when he pointed to the floor drain and she realized why it was there.
Prophetic or not, forty minutes later, her humiliation was complete.
She kept her feet as far apart as she could, braced against the curve of the walls, the tide of emotions swelling inside her. Embarrassment. Resentment. Anger. Lust. The plug in her rectum only made it worse. She wasn’t the only one suffering. Sir Declan was hard and huge, his reaction clearly visible beneath his tights. Whether it was strictly for her or a response to everything taking place in the dungeon, she didn’t know, but they were both in need of release.
If only he would set aside his personal prejudice toward her as a journalist and see her as a woman who’d come here to learn how to be a submissive. She realized that she’d have to act the part and continue to do so. Only by following BDSM protocol would she prove herself worthy of his Domination.
If she was lucky, by the time Carnevale ended, she would win his trust and earn his cock.
Part of Little Black Dress anthology from Perfectly Poisoned Anthologies.
Anthology release date May 28, 2021.
Links to be added
A naturally submissive American woman is paired with a Dominant prince at a fantasy resort’s grand opening.
Club Paradiso is a fantasy resort owned by the Paradiso Luxury Resort in partnership with Replay resort in the States. Located on a privately owned island in the Caribbean, Club Paradiso caters to the rich and decadent. Its invitation-only grand opening has drawn royalty, nobility, heads of state, and pop culture personalities from around the world. At the top of the guest list is Estefan Gianopoulos, crown prince of the Kingdom of Varra and the world’s richest bachelor, thanks to a gemstone unique to his tiny Balkan country.
The security to the event is being provided by an elite force of trained agents, former soldiers, and bodyguards, some in uniform and some dressed to blend in with the A-list crowd. Estefan is planning his own undercover operation as soon as his “date” gets here. He intends to flex his Dominant muscles with a sex professional versed in BDSM protocol who’ll arrive in a little black dress.
The trouble is, nearly every woman at the party is wearing a fashion classic and none of them looks like the red-headed woman he hired.
He isn’t happy when his escort for the evening turns out to be a brunette in need of an attitude adjustment.
Kira Reese Conners cares nothing for wealth or rank. In a borrowed dress and lethal heels, she feels a bit like Cinderella when she’s reluctantly paired with the Crown Prince of Varra at the Club Paradiso opening gala. She’s sworn to keep the Dominant prince’s BDSM lifestyle a secret, but who’ll keep her inner submissive safe if she agrees to a kinky play date with him?
“Kira,” he murmured. “An unusual name. Family?” Her father was a famous Hollywood stuntman. Her mother taught yoga, which explained that body of hers.
“N-no,” she croaked, watching in rapt fascination as he adjusted himself.
A ten-inch missile was coming her way as soon as he could figure how to do it without causing an international incident.
“My parents were anime and sci-fi fans,” she explained. “They named me after Akira and Kyle Reese from The Terminator.”
He arched a brow and silently applauded their tastes. No cookie-cutter name for an Olympic-level shootist who’d trained in multiple martial arts and provided personal protection for rock stars, actors, billionaires, and dignitaries.
He knew basic self-defense and was an expert fencer but given all the black belts she had to go with that deliciously sinful black dress of hers, he realized that she’d let him disarm her. Had let him take her purse. She had willingly surrendered her power, knowing she could stop things at any time.
Exactly what a submissive would do.
Suddenly, the evening looked promising once more.
Excerpt 2 (429 words)
“I’m going to remove your holster. It’s tearing up your skin.”
She rolled her eyes. “And where am I supposed to put my gun?”
“Your clutch,” he said, “after I’ve taken care of this.”
Unbuckling the holster, he pulled it free of her body and laid it aside. Tearing open the foil pack, he pulled out the alcohol pad and turned back to see that her knees were shut as tight as a miser’s purse.
He looked pointedly at her reddened thigh. “Legs apart, pet. I’m going to swab you down, then doctor you up. I need room to work and you’re not giving me any.”
“Damn straight,” she murmured, glaring at him, daring him to force the issue.
Two could play that game.
He gave her his best Dom look. It had worked before. It worked again. The minx grit her teeth and growled at him before grudgingly moving one leg far enough to afford access to the entire site.
Estefan nodded his approval. “Good girl,” he hummed. Leaning over her, he swabbed the reddened patch of skin with alcohol. Breath hissed between her teeth at the sting. He dipped his head and blew on her thigh.
Kira Reese Connors stopped breathing.
He did it again, as an experiment, to see what she would do. She shivered and tightened her hands into white-knuckled fists, denying the urge to push him away—
Or pull him closer? The scent of feminine musk was mistakable.
“Once more,” he rasped, wishing like hell that third times actually were charms. To have this woman submit to him would be his greatest triumph.
She bit back a moan and spread her legs wider.
“There now,” he crooned, pleased with her response. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Where your skin is broken, I can’t use arnica cream to promote healing. I’m going to blend petroleum jelly and triple antibiotic cream to use. Plain petroleum jelly will keep it from scabbing and scarring, but I don’t want it to get infected. Are you allergic to anything? Are those going to be safe to use on you?”
“Yes, Sir. Sire!”
She rushed to correct her slip but it was too late. He’d heard it and she knew it.
“They’re fine,” she whispered hoarsely, disturbed that she’d shown her hand instead of keeping her cards close to her cleavage. She wanted him to think that she was unaffected, but her body had betrayed her. Her jade eyes had grown smoky and languid, her cheeks were flushed, and the scent of her arousal was thick enough to bottle.
Welcome to fictional Posey, Minnesota, the per capita ménage capital of the USA. Three women live here whose names all mean Grace. Grace Murphy, Anna James, and Rachel Givens share their stories in books 1-3 of the series before the men take over and tell their side of things in books 4-7.
The individual novellas in The Three Graces Series are available as single titles but six of them are now paired as the duets they were meant to be. This is the last of the three duets—she said/he said written from Rachel Givens and Cord Colson’s points of view.
Loving a biker and his adult film star brother came at a terrible price. Taken by a rival gang, beaten beyond recognition and sexually assaulted, Rachel Givens saw a chance to survive by claiming the identity of the other girl who was taken and killed. She spent months recovering from her physical injuries but still struggles with PTSD. Add her three-year-old autistic daughter to the equation, and Rachel (now Rae Simmons) has her hands more than full as she makes a new life for them in a quiet little town.
When her former lovers walk into the restaurant where she works, it’s clear that the Colson brothers have come for more than the plate lunch special. Once Rachel gladly submitted to their domination, but she hasn’t been with a man since her ordeal. She has triggers and issues and a daughter whose needs come first. Cord and Cam don’t care whether or not Hannah is theirs. As far as they’re concerned, Hannah is Rachel’s and Rachel is theirs. They’ll do whatever it takes to convince Rachel that they belong together.
This expanded second edition of a 2016 Golden Flogger Finalist is a BDSM MFM ménage erotic romance with adult situations and potential triggers. Written for Ages 18+.
Cordell “Cruz” Colson’s world ended when the woman he and his brother loved was kidnapped and killed by a rival MC. After four years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Cord learns that Rachel is alive and living under an assumed name. As soon as Cord walks out a free man, the former biker and his porn star brother Cameron head for the little town of Posey, Minnesota. They’re determined to take Rachel home with them where she belongs.
Only Rachel isn’t alone.
Rachel Givens aka Rae Simmons has post-rape PTSD and a three-year-old autistic daughter, father unknown. A blood test will hopefully answer the question of paternity. Chances are, Hannah belongs to Cord. Whatever the results, the Colson brothers won’t rest until Rachel remembers what it was like to submit to them, to be shared by them. Two men love her, and they’ll do whatever it takes to win her back and be a family.
A New Age, New Adult MFM BDSM ménage, written for ages 18+.
The memory jolts me, and I realize there is a tiny, tiny chance that my daughter is his. He usually took my mouth or my ass, but in a marathon session the night before the last time he left, he had all of me, every way that he could take me, with and without Cord, who was still there, watching, when he wasn’t joining in.
I wonder what he thought when I said that he couldn’t be Hannah’s father. Was he hurt, thinking that I could so easily forget? Or did he realize the horrors that followed mere days later messed with my mind?
“I remember,” I whisper against his mouth. “This. Us. I remember….” It’s why he needed tested, too. Oh, God.
I kiss him. Open mouth, tongue thrusting, hands fisting in his hair, bent on ruining his hundred dollar cut. Forgive me. Punish me. Take me. Don’t hurt me. My mind is a maelstrom, but my body is on fire.
Rachel opens the door. We follow her into the living room. It’s an older home, probably built in the forties or fifties, with dated fixtures and painted over wallpaper. Good bones, though. A fixer-upper if you’re handy, and I am. Her furnishings are worn but the space is clean, neat and tidy except for a pile of building blocks abandoned near a three-shelf bookcase that’s filled with children’s books and DVDs.
My heart seizes when I realize her child is old enough for blocks and books and animated films. A sense of urgency grips me, and I look for her. Rachel’s daughter. There’s a little girl lying under the coffee table with her eyes closed. Her hair is the color of mine and Cam’s—and now Rachel’s since she dyed it.
“Have a seat, guys.” Rachel points to the sofa. “Just watch your feet around Hannah.”
Thanks to Cam’s lack of communication, I have questions that won’t wait. “How old is she?”
“She turned three on March twenty-second.”
My jaw tightens, and I rub the back of my neck beneath my ponytail. She’s quiet now, stopping short of disclosure. She’s going to make me say it, make me ask the question whose answer I may hate to hear. Rachel was taken, held by men with no mercy and an agenda. The timeframe is so close.
I swallow, hard. My voice is rough with emotion when I ask, “Is she mine?”
My words are like the crack of a whip, reopening wounds that clearly haven’t healed.
Rachel can’t bear to look at me.
She glances at my brother and drops her gaze to her lap. “Probably.”
Holy mother of all—
I’ve been so focused on the enemy without I never considered I might need to look closer to home.
His eyes flash, indignant.
I almost snort. He knows as well as I do what happened that last time we were together. It was fucking Fourth of July weekend. Three days, spent mostly in bed. I was preoccupied with club business, about to leave, heading out to set up the Lost Creek MC safehouse, getting ready for the war that we feared was coming with the Blackwater Demons MC. Cam was only too happy to distract Rachel while I packed.
We’ll be having more than words later, I fucking guarantee it. Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Cam bristles, still rejecting the idea that he might be a baby daddy. If he is, he’d better man the fuck up.
“Enough!” she hisses. “You will watch your language, or you will leave. She’s not Cam’s. We never… we didn’t… We were never together without you.”
I say nothing but inside, I’m feeling this weird mix of relief and hope and trepidation. Cam’s tastes run toward mouth and ass. I don’t remember him dipping his wick in Rachel’s pussy more than once or twice if that. But there are others. The ones who kidnapped her. Who brutalized her.
Who raped her.
Monsters, they took what was ours.
Rachel draws a deep breath. And another. She looks at her hands.
“You two need to go.”
We can’t. Not yet. I’ve spent four years mourning her loss and I’m not walking out of here without some answers. She might not know who fathered Hannah, but she sure as hell can tell us why she let us think that she was dead.
I motion Cam to stay right where he is. “Talk to me, Rachel. Tell me why… this.”
The pain in her voice cuts me like a knife. “You don’t want to know. You won’t want to hear it.”
She throws up her hand, putting any conversation on hold. Loading a DVD in the player, she glances at Hannah and motions for us to follow her into the kitchen. She starts the exhaust fan over the stove before turning to face us.
Christ, the look on her face. The innocent girl we knew is gone. This is a woman who has clearly been through hell and back.
“They. Took. Me.” She spits the words, full of bile, at me. “They stole me from my house, and then they took me. Do… you… understand? For two nights and three days. At least one of them had your coloring.” She looks at the coffee table, where her daughter is hiding. “Is she yours? Who knows, really?”
Shit shit shit.
Her words strike me like brass knuckles, landing hard enough to strip away any pretense, beating me down and leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. The harsh truth is, she didn’t say anything that I haven’t thought to myself.
Still, hearing it from her lips is wrenching.
I feel the color drain from my face.
“Sorry if I didn’t write you,” she snips, “but then, I’m supposed to be dead.”
Jesus, I don’t know how she can sound so cavalier, watching the blood pour from the holes her words have ripped in me. She’s right. I don’t want to listen, but hearing this is part of my fucking penance, punishment for not protecting her.
The Three Graces Duet 1: Something Else, Something Amazing
Welcome to fictional Posey, Minnesota, the per capita ménage capital of the USA. Three women live here whose names all mean Grace. Grace Murphy, Anna James, and Rachel Givens share their stories in books 1-3 of the series before the men take over and tell their side of things in books 4-7.
The individual novellas in The Three Graces Series are available as single titles but six of them are now paired as the duets they were meant to be. This is the second of the three duets—she said/he said written from Anna James and Jackson Thomason’s points of view.
Something Different (The Three Graces Book Two) is written from Anna’s point of view. Teasers and excerpts http://bit.ly/3Graces2WP
Singer/songwriter Anna James is getting desperate. Even with a day job, money’s tight, and she’s wound tighter yet, having sworn off sex to reconcile with her mother who’s in chemo and her father who disowned her for her wild, wicked ways. No sooner than her psychic best friend predicts an end to Anna’s self-imposed drought, rock stars Jackson and Jacob Thomason come to town, with the dream of an indie album co-written with local American Indian flutist Nico White and his songwriting partner AJ McPherson.
The triple-platinum artists are attracted to Anna, who gives as good as she gets. Learning that Anna’s alter ego AJ puts the “twist” in Nico’s “tribal” music only makes them want her more. The part-Comanche Thomason twins need an album’s worth of songs. That means spending night after night, working closely, getting to know each other, learning how to co-create.
Anna’s never written music with anyone but Nico. Their collaborations are so natural, so organic. They’re comfortable with each other. The Thomason twins, who perform as No Mercy, make her anything but. What’s a fangirl to do, when submitting to her rock star idols means exploring the darker side of passion?
A BDSM MFM ménage erotic rock star romance, written for Ages 18+.
Contains advanced BDSM and potential triggers.
Something Awesome (The Three Graces Book Five) is written from Jackson’s point of view. Teasers and Excerpts http://bit.ly/TGB5WP
Jackson Thomason is a triple-platinum recording artist who performs with his twin brother Jacob as No Mercy. Unhappy with their current contract and hungry for something better, they dream of an independent project that speaks to their part-Comanche blood. They contact Native American composer and flutist Nico White about collaborating, but it’s his writing partner Anna James who’s responsible for putting the twist in his tribal music. The songwriting sessions heat up, and the purple-eyed goth-haired gamer girl goes down on her knees, submitting to the darker side of passion in a rock star interracial MFM ménage BDSM romance.
Written for Ages 18+.
Excerpt from Something Awesome:
“We know your work,” my brother tells them. “We like it. A lot. We’ve had a project in mind for a couple of years now, but our label won’t touch it. It’s important enough to us, we’ve decided to tell them to fuck themselves and do it ourselves. It’s a concept album with a tribal theme. We want to return to our roots. Not musically, but ethnically. We may be only a sixteenth Comanche, but we’re related to Quanah Parker. We cut our teeth on the stories of his life, his family, our people. We want to express those stories in song, and we’d like your help to do it.”
Nico stays silent, considering. When we approached him about working with us, he didn’t ask for details. He knows that teaming with No Mercy will give him exposure that he might never achieve on his own. And Anna? She looks like she’s having a songwriter’s wet dream.
“And how does that work,” she asks, “doing a record while you’re still on tour?”
It’s a good question. Fair enough. We had wondered that ourselves. Had worried about it until we figured out just how we could make it happen.
Thank fuck for hi-speed WiFi.
“We’ve got ten days before our next gig,” I tell her. “After that, we can hook up over the internet. Nico says his connection will let us Skype.”
She’s used to her weekly one-on-ones with Nico, sharing space, feeling the energy, tapping into the same creative flow, but to co-create over the internet? She hugs her Fender to her heart, clearly skeptical.
Jacob keeps talking about his ideas for the album as a whole and for individual tracks. While he uses his powers of persuasion, I let my hands speak for me. I pick up my guitar, a Master Classic Pacific with curly maple sides and a Sitka spruce top, and touch the strings, exploring. My fingers find chords, random at first, slowly gathering form. Anna turns on a digital recorder when patterns start to emerge.
I hold back a smile when she lowers the neck of her guitar to playing position. Her fingers move, her strings dueling with mine, until suddenly we’re in sync, creating melody and harmony. Nico weaves his flute around us. Jacob adds rhythm on the djembe.
By the time we’re through, we have the musical equivalent of a manuscript’s first draft.
“This…this…is why we’re here,” I tell them, pumped as hell. I don’t say that we’ve memorized every fucking track that Nico’s ever recorded, and all the best ones were co-written with AJ McPherson. We knew that we needed them both. Being here, playing with her, makes me want Anna even more.
Jacob catches me staring at Anna and smiles. He knows where my mind is, knows that my stirring cock wants to follow. Anna throws ice water on it when she starts breaking down. “Sorry, guys. I need three hours of sleep or I’m toast at work.”
What. The. Fuck?
The mantle clock reads four in the morning. She’s fucking leaving, and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. Nico sees her off, then comes back into the living room. I debate packing up, too. He nods when he sees that our guitars are still out.
“Sorry, guys,” he says. “I know you’ve had some surprises today. I needed to see if Anna could handle this—could handle working with you. She’s never written with anyone but me.”
I take a breath, think about what I don’t want to say, which is anything that will jeopardize our working relationship. “You didn’t tell me she has a job.”
He shakes his head and crooks half a smile, like I should have known. “Writing doesn’t pay her bills. Not yet, anyway. Little sister works at a gaming store in Charleston. Castle Keepers.”
“Wait. She’s a gamer?” This, from Jacob, who plays rings around anyone else on our team, comprised of us and a few of our roadies. Chances are, if we’re not writing music in our downtime, we’re playing games or watching porn.
“Big time,” Nico says. “Whatever you play, you do not want to go against her. She’ll only smile and kick your asses.”
Fuck that. We’ll add her to the team.
“Wednesday is her one guaranteed day off work. That’s why I had you guys come tonight. I went behind her back and asked her boss if there was any way she could get off work, but chances are slim to none.”
Which means he didn’t totally diss it.
“Give me his name and number. I’ll see what I can do,” I tell him.
“Yes, Sir.” There’s a shit-eating grin on Nico’s face when he flicks on his laptop and finds the contact information for Anna’s work. Such a switch. But he’s smooth, he’s smart, and he clearly cares for the gamer girl he calls “little sister.” With that scene he arranged in the diner, I suspect he wanted to see how well Anna can handle us on every level, beyond fame, beyond music, beyond words. I’m guessing that he’s either researched us or his psychic significant other has picked up enough to know our tastes. Jacob and I do our own version of tribal with a twist, and after the grueling first half of our concert tour, with the almost mindless, meaningless sex that happens on the road, I’m ready to bring something better into our mix.