SLOW BURN

Slow Burn 

by Nia Farrell

Length 22,103 words.

First appeared in Dominated by Desire : A BDSM Anthology by Elizabeth Knox, Crimson Syn, Linny Lawless, Courtney Lynn Rose, Brynn Burke, Eden Rose, Nia Farrell, Iris Sweetwater, Deliaria Davis, and AJ. Daniels

Anthology Release Date May 25, 2019

Amazon e-book     Amazon US e-book     Goodreads reviews 

 

Tagline: A publicist is tasked with turning a debut novelist from geek to gorgeous.

Slow Burn by Nia Farrell blurb:

The rights to Reuben James’s debut novel Slow Burn, a dark BDSM thriller, just sold for $1.5 million. His editor wants him cut, dressed, groomed, and coached and has given publicist Brooke Cavanaugh six month to do take him from geek to gorgeous.  The trouble is, the twenty-five-year-old boy-genius-turned-author isn’t just new to publishing.  He’s a natural Dominant with no BDSM experience, and he’s never been with a woman.

To be fully prepared for interviews, Reuben knows that he needs BDSM experience.  He yearns to get his cherry popped, and he wants to find a submissive.  Brooke deems his “to-do” list feasible.  Willing to take one for the team, she offers to help Reuben develop his Dominant skills, but turning him into a media dream proves to be her nightmare when she finds herself falling for the younger man.

Take an inexperienced geek.  Add one seasoned divorcee.  Throw them together in a haunted house, toss in a playroom, and watch the heat rise.

Written for Ages 18+.

#BDSM #agegap #youngerman #geek #firsttime #OperationGetSome

 

Excerpt 1 (418 words, PG13):

“I’ve been thinking about what you’ve been tasked to accomplish,” he said smoothly.  “Prepare me for the book tour and the interviews that I’ll be doing.  I know my strengths and I know where I’m weakest.  I’m intelligent and articulate but I’m inexperienced in the lifestyle that I write about.  I want to change that.  Now that you’re here, I’m hoping that you’ll help me.”

Brooke sat perfectly still, warning herself to not jump to conclusions.  Her imagination was running wild.  She needed to rein it in.  Hear his thoughts before she said something that she shouldn’t.

Keep things professional, Brooke.

“If I can honestly answer and say that I’ve done at least some of the kinks in Slow Burn, I’ll have the credibility that I’m lacking now.  And please, don’t point out that Agatha Christie never murdered anyone to write her stories.  We both know how brutal the press can be.”

Brooke felt her face flush pink.  She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs, pressing her thighs together to ease the sudden ache between them.  Holy shit.  The thought of him… of them… together…, doing the things that she’d dreamed of…

Stop right there.

She realized that they were treading dangerous ground.  She was his personal assistant.  He needed a research assistant for kink.  If he wasn’t a Long Branch author, she’d be the first to volunteer.  But he was, and she couldn’t.

Not without putting her job—her career—in jeopardy.

Or would she?

She was already assigned to him.  Surely she could justify helping him research kink—

Assuming that’s what he was asking.

Maybe she was jumping the gun.  Maybe her imagination was taking her far from where he intended.  She wet her lips and swallowed before responding.  “What do you want from me, Sir?”

He nodded his approval at the honorific.  “I’ve been making connections online with people in the lifestyle who live in the St. Louis area.  Most of them are on the Missouri side of the river.  There are a couple of clubs, but I’d rather start with a private party.  Would you be willing to pose as my submissive?”

Her cheeks reddened.

“Or help me find one?”

What?

Brooke’s breath seized in her chest like an engine with a snapped timing chain.  What the fuck?!  She wanted to rewind, go back to where he asked her to pose as his submissive.  Why would she pimp for him when she was more than willing to take one for the team?

Excerpt 2 (1,173 words, NSFW):

The transformation to a playroom had already begun.  A massive, modern four-poster bed dominated one wall.  The black metal uprights sported rings for bondage.  The mattress was covered in a fitted black leather sheet.  A bench traversed the foot of the bed.  The only other piece of furniture was an antique prie-dieu with a rosary draped over the devotional’s red velvet top and a paddle propped against its side.  The bottom cushion’s matching fabric was worn thin from kneeling.

“Now I’m curious.  Are you Catholic?” she asked.

“No.  Just kinky.”  He cracked a grin, looking at once sheepish and unapologetically naughty.  He reminded her of a parochial student caught studying graffiti on a public restroom wall.  “It seemed the right height for…”

His words trailed off.  She waited until she was certain that he wasn’t going to finish his thoughts.

“For what?  Punishment?”

“Discipline.  Fellatio.  Coitus….”

Paddling.  Blowjobs.  Fucking.  She angled her head, trying to envision it.  “I don’t know,” she said slowly.  He’d made her wonder, though.  Setting her things on the bed, she crossed the room to where the devotional stood.  Curiosity made her kneel on the cushion.

She heard footsteps and looked to find him beside her.  Her nose was nearly even with his navel.

Well, I’ll be damned.

The height wasn’t perfect for a blowjob, but it could be done.  As for fucking…

Rising to her feet, she stepped onto the kneeler and braced her hands on the padded top.

“I was right,” he rumbled, moving behind her.  His voice sounded rougher than normal.

“You were,” she breathed, gasping when he narrowed the distance between them.  He stopped close enough for her to feel the heat of his body without actually touching her.

And she wanted him to touch her, dammit.  They’d spent hours talking, getting to know each other.  She liked him.  Really liked him.  Remembering the last picture that his personal trainer had sent to her, she could envision him covered in sweat, locked in the throes of passion.

Slowly, deliberately, she backed into him, not stopping until her ass was pressed against the hard column of flesh behind his fly.

“Such a naughty girl,” he said, slapping her ass with his hand.  “Teasing me.”  He teased her back, rubbing his erection on her seam.  “I think you need to be spanked.”

She did need a spanking.  She’d been dating vanilla for too damn long.

“I do,” Brooke whispered.  “I do need a spanking, Sir.  I shouldn’t be so forward, but you have no idea what you do to me.  I’m buying batteries in bulk,” she confessed.  “If I’ve ever seemed in a hurry to wrap up a conversation, it’s so I could finish what you started.  Sometimes, I take the edge off before your call so I don’t squirm in my seat while we’re talking.”

She hoped that he would do his own audiobooks.  His voice was perfect for it.  Low.  Slightly rumbly.  That evocative soft Texas drawl became panty-melting when it was supercharged with the passion of his writing.  He sounded hot as fuck when he shared scenes from his current work in progress.  Feeding the Fire promised to be every bit as good as Slow Burn.  Just as sensual and full of suspense.  Another killer with a penchant for kink.

He smacked her ass again.  “With me,” he growled, “or you’ll be adding to your count.  Twenty to start, then we’ll see.”

Jesus.  Was this the same guy that just confessed to being a twenty-five-year-old virgin?  The Dominant-wannabe without any real BDSM experience?  The way he sounded, the way he was acting, she’d never have guessed it.

“Take off your slacks, Brooke.  I want to see my marks on you.”

Oh, God.  They were really going to do this.

Brooke unhooked her waistband, opened the zipper, and pushed down her pants.  They fell to mid-calf, effectively hobbling her feet.

He pulled up the hem of her blouse.  Taking a step back, he looked at his handprint on her bottom—or the part that was exposed anyway.  Most of the heat was under her panties.  She’d thought about shucking them, too, but he hadn’t told her to take them off and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to add to the count. 

He had probably never spanked anyone.  She didn’t know how hard or how easy he’d go with her.

“Count,” he ordered, sounding all Domly, “and thank me.”

Smack!

S-Double H-I-T.  Good God Almighty, the man had a firm hand.

“One, Sir,” she bleated, still feeling the sting of his palm on her ass.  “Thank you, Sir.”

Smack!

He spanked her other cheek, making a matched set of marks.

“Two, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”

Smack!

“Three, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”  If he kept this up, she was going to feel it for days.

The blows kept coming, raining down on her sorry ass until he’d thoroughly blistered her bottom.  She tried not to moan, but near the end, she could feel the start of a delicious disconnect.  The pain transmuted into pleasure.  She found herself arching back to meet his hand.

On the count of twenty, he squeezed her cheeks, making her whimper.  She felt him push two fingers along her crotch and press against her panties.

“You’re wet,” he murmured, his voice full of awe.  Regardless of the scenes that he’d written, he sounded surprised that he’d made her that way.

“Yes, Sir.  I can’t help it.”

“You didn’t come, did you?”

“No, Sir.”

“Why not?” he asked.  New to this, he was naturally curious.

“I don’t know.”

“Was it because I hadn’t given you permission?”

She nearly smiled at that.  “I haven’t been trained in orgasm control.  If you’d kept going and hit me just right, I probably would have climaxed.  My clit’s really sensitive.”

“Do you squirt?”

This, with his fingers sliding farther along her seam until he was pressing against her clitoris.

“Yes.  Not often, but I have before.  It usually takes my magic wand and my nipples being clamped or tormented to get me off that hard.”

“Hmm.”  He pulled back his hand and slid his fingers up to press against her backdoor.  “What about anal?”

“It’s been part of either the best or the worst sex of my life, depending on my partner.  Here’s the thing.  Just because a woman’s soaking wet, that doesn’t mean her ass is ready to receive.  Anal takes preparation.  Most men don’t want to bother.”

“I’m not most men,” he reminded her, pressing against her pucker.  He pulled his hand away and stepped back, breaking contact and leaving her aching and needy.

“Jesus,” he breathed.  “I could almost come right now, just from seeing you like this.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and was singed by the heat in his eyes.

“Tell me, Brooke.  What do you want?”

She wanted to come.  She wanted him to tie her to his bed and fuck her like an animal.  But a good submissive wouldn’t tell him that.

A good submissive would show him.

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Scattered

SCATTERED

by Nia Farrell

Length 12,806 words

Part of the With Love from Dublin (Voyages of the Heart 3) Anthology with Allison LaFleur | Alyssa Drake | Amy Cecil | Amy McKinley | Ashlee Shades | Bella Emy |Brian Miller | Erin Lee | G. L. Finch | Gracie Wilson | Jade Royal | Katherine L.E. White Maria Vickers | Nia Farrell | Rosie Chapel | Roux Cantrell | Samatha Harris

 

Release Date September 26, 2019

Universal link https://books2read.com/u/4NQjk9

Teasers and Excerpt http://bit.ly/VOTHAnthologies

Fulfilling a deathbed promise, photographer Eve Spencer scatters her mother’s ashes on a journey that ends in Dublin.  She hopes to make peace with her past there and finds her future instead.

Conall Whelan is from a family of faoladh—Irish wolf shifters who provide protection and guidance.  He recognizes Eve as his fated mate but to claim her, he must keep her safe from an Unseelie Court fae who’s followed her from the Dark Hedges.

A paranormal shifter erotic romance, written for Ages 18+

Excerpt:

“Eve, I don’t care if ye hold a black belt in something and can defend yerself better than most.  I’m asking ye to do me a favor.  Stay until we’re done playing.  Please,” he begged, a note of pleading in the timbre of his voice.  “If worry gets hold, I fear that words will flee and meh tongue will fail.”

He was talking about singing, but thoughts of what else he could do with his tongue and those incredibly sensual hands of his made her squirm in her seat.  Damn it.  If she’d worn jeans, she might be able to get the seam just right and rock herself off when the music started again.

Conall grabbed his beer and drank deeply, throat muscles working while she watched in rapt fascination.

He caught her looking and leaned on the table, making his own interest known.  “Wait for me,” he crooned.  The tone of his voice and the panty-melting look he gave her made it easy to overlook his earlier attitude.  “I’ll make certain that ye get home safe and sound.”

She didn’t want “safe and sound”.  For once, she wanted to be as wild and reckless as her mother.

Trying to not think about stranger danger and horror stories of tourists going missing on vacation, she dared to meet his gaze.  His eyes were this fascinating mix of color—predominantly blue edging to gray with amber ringing the centers.  Laugh lines at the corners attested to his sense of humor.  He was polite, well-known, and well-liked, judging from his interactions with others.

All things considered, she decided that she could trust him.

When in Rome.

Or Dublin.

Eve was alone in a strange city, sitting with the most attractive man she’d ever met.  The air between them practically crackled with electricity.

He’d offered to walk her home.  He was clearly interested in her, but he hadn’t asked for more.

And she wanted more, dammit.

She could almost hear her mother’s voice in her head.  Fortune favors the bold.

Eve drew a breath and centered herself.  In her mind, she pictured the two of them together.  She looked at his lips and wondered how they would feel ravishing her mouth and feasting on her flesh.  She remembered his fingers weaving magic with his guitar and imagined his hands discovering her body.

What it would be like to have this gorgeous man surging inside her, filling her beyond measure?

When she spoke again, she barely recognized her voice, grown husky with arousal.

“My place or yours?” she asked.

Her question surprised him.  Hell, it surprised her.  Living with her mother, watching men and women come and go but never stay for long, she’d decided she was more like her father.  Patrick Doyle Spencer had been more passionate about screenwriting than anything else in his life, including his wife.

They’d divorced when Eve was four.

He angled his head, considering.  “Does it matter?”

It didn’t.  Not really.  She’d spent too many nights alone.  Her last boyfriend abandoned her when he graduated from college.  She’d learned it on social media after he’d unfriended and blocked her.

It was one more reason to hate the internet that her mother was forcing her to use.

Thankfully, Conall wasn’t Jacob.  He was a gorgeous Irish musician with Ed Sheeran’s voice and Eric Clapton’s hands.

She couldn’t wait to feel them on her.

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VOYAGES OF THE HEART ANTHOLOGIES…

Cities around the world have their own charming allure which pulls you in, allowing you to enjoy their secrets. They offer love, passion, laughter, healing, and even heartache.

The authors have penned these emotions and more into their stories one page at a time. Pack your luggage to join us on our voyage of the heart. Our next destination: Dublin!

WITH LOVE FROM DUBLIN

 

This voyage of love encompasses romance with an Irish twist that will have you kissing the Blarney Stone for a chance at true love. Being the perfect city to explore, each story is bound to bring you surprises along the journey. Ancient, present, and future combine when hearts mend together, forming their own traditions of song and dance. Known for its culture, power, and intelligence, Dublin will lure you into its magical grasp. Are you ready to risk your heart in Dublin?

 

LIST OF AUTHORS:

Allison LaFleur | Alyssa Drake | Amy Cecil | Amy McKinley | Ashlee Shades | Bella Emy  Brian Miller | Erin Lee | G. L. Finch | Gracie Wilson | Jade Royal | Katherine L.E. White Maria Vickers | Nia Farrell | Rosie Chapel | Roux Cantrell | Samatha Harris

 

BUY LINK:

https://books2read.com/u/4NQjk9

 

OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES:

With Love From London. AVAILABLE IN KU!  https://books2read.com/b/389wPr

With Love From New Orleans. AVAILABLE IN KU! https://books2read.com/b/mKEkNL

 

 

ANTHOLOGY LINKS:

Page: http://bit.ly/VOTHFB

Readers Group: http://bit.ly/VOTHReaders

IG: http://bit.ly/VOTHIG

Website: http://bit.ly/VOTHAnthology

 

CASEY – GUARDED HEARTS BOOK 2

 

CASEY: GUARDED HEARTS BOOK 2

by Claire Marta and Nia Farrell

Length: 81,000 words

Cover Reveal February 2, 2020. Release Date March 13, 2020.

Amazon Universal Link http://mybook.to/GH2Casey

Amazon US ebook     Amazon UK ebook     Goodreads reviews

Guarded Hearts Series Pinterest Board http://bit.ly/GHSPins

 

Malik Nassir and Iosefa Malvia are members of the Order of the Phoenix, an international cadre of shifters headquartered in a former military academy known as the Citadel. Charged with protecting the first fated mate of their brothers, the two become smitten with her roommate and best friend.

Casey Andersson is an ATF Special Agent who leads a double life. When Malik and Iosefa discover her secret—Casey is a submissive and a member of an exclusive club —they’re determined to learn how to master her. 

Trouble is, she’s already being dominated by Master S (aka Ivan Michalov). They don’t know that the Russian Dominant has a secret agenda to claim Casey and keep her. Promising to help find her brother’s killer, Ivan leads her on a dangerous path into the heart of a deadly organization. Can Malik and Iosefa save her from the dark fate that’s already been written out for her or will they be too late?

This second standalone book in the Guarded Hearts Series is a darker PNR shifter romance with potential triggers. MFM mènage written for Ages 18+.

 

Excerpt (NSFW):

“Clothes off,” he ordered, “then standing presentation pose.”

Nudity was something that Casey had had to get used to. She still wasn’t perfectly comfortable with it, but she did it anyway. It was required if she wanted to play with Master S, and she did with something akin to desperation. She craved the release that she knew he could give her.

He never failed to deliver.

Picking up a set of fur-lined leather cuffs from his collection, he turned to see her bared C-cup breasts and wet, swollen sex and nodded his approval. He fastened one cuff around each of her wrists and knelt to fasten them around her ankles. Done, he slid his fingers up the back of her legs as he rose, breathing in the scent of her arousal and stealing a taste of it as he passed.

That simple swipe of his tongue nearly undid her. It had been too long since she’d been fucked. Longer yet since a man had eaten her out and made her come. It wouldn’t take much to bathe his face with her juices.

Rising to his full commanding height, Master S fastened his gaze on the globes of her breasts and pinched her nipple. He tightened his fingers and used his grip to pull her into place facing the cross. Grasping her wrists, he raised her arms over her head and splayed them on the X-shaped cross, fastening one to the top of each side. He kicked her feet apart and fastened her ankles as well.

He left for a moment and returned with more things.  Her brow creased when she felt him press a handkerchief into her hand.  She shuddered to see a ball gag dangling from his other fingers.

Casey loathed gags with a passion that bordered on hatred. It was one of her near-limits, allowed only with prior negotiation and with someone she implicitly trusted. She’d played with Master S for three months now, public scenes only with orgasm control but no sex. He knew how she felt about ball gags. Was this a test, to see how much control she was willing to let him have? To judge how much power he’d gained over her?  Just how far would she let him go?

Before tonight, each time he invited her to his private room, she’d said no.

Tonight, she could feel her resolve weakening. Flog her just right, and she might just crumble.

Master S arched a brow.

Casey nodded her acquiescence, not having permission to speak.

His expressive mouth canted upward. If a ball gag earned her half a smile, what would it take to make him happy?

Fisting her hair, he held her head immobile with one hand and pushed the ball between her lips with his other. He let go of her hair long enough to fasten the gag, then took hold of it again and wrapped his fingers around her throat, tightening them just enough to remind her who called the shots in this scene. As a sub, the ultimate control rested with her, but during the scene, he was in command.

She welcomed surrender. She needed to empty her mind and let go of everything that she’d been carrying these past few weeks. Worry about Morgan. Suspicions about the Citadel. Concern for the growing illegal arms trade. Knowing that Malik and Iosefa had been in her room and uncovered her secret.

She needed this. Needed the release that he could give her.

He took off his tailored coat and hung it on a wall hook. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves, he rolled them halfway to his elbow, exposing colorful tattoos on his forearms.

Casey eyed the muscle definition and thought of all the times that she’d seen him flogging and whipping other submissives in the club. There was an artistry to his scenes, poetry in motion when he got in the zone. Tonight, she had the chance to experience it with him. After months of playing coy, she was ready for more.

Master S did not disappoint.

He spanked her with his hand. Put clothespins on her body and ripped them away. Added nipple clamps and sent her nearly into subspace with a flogging. The single-tail whip did it. The pain of its bite transformed into pleasure. Casey found that delicious disconnect and started to float away. Only Master S’s presence kept her there. Stepping closer, he pressed his hips against her sore behind and pushed his erection into her crack, letting her feel his arousal. Caging her ear in his teeth, he grazed the tips of her nipples with his fingernails and made her whimper past the drool that escaped to drip from her chin onto the floor.

“Kiska,” he murmured, sending a riot of gooseflesh cascading up her arm. “Would you like to come? Shall I give you the release you crave? Come to my room, and I will do more than that. Da?”

God, she was tempted. They were both vetted. There was nothing to stop her except her need for control that she had never quite fully surrendered.

He thrust a finger into her pussy and started fucking her with it. “I’d love to plug you,” he growled, pumping his hand. “Adorn you with a jewel and sink my prick into your cunt and spend myself inside you. I’ll use a condom this time, but I’d love to see your thighs dripping with my seed.”

Casey whimpered, so empty, she hurt.

 

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THE GUARDED HEARTS SERIES

THE GUARDED HEARTS SERIES

(Paranormal romance)

by Claire Marta and Nia Farrell

 

RELEASE SCHEDULE

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX (Books 1-7)

Book 1: MORGAN. Cover Reveal September 1, 2019. Release Date October 19, 2019.

Book 2: CASEY. Cover Reveal February 2, 2020. Release Date March 13, 2020.

Book 3: RAVEN. Release Date September 2020.

Book 4: RILEY. Release Date March 2021.

Book 5: DARCY. Release Date September 2021.

Book 6: SAM. Release Date March 2022.

Book 7: ASH. Release Date September 2022.

GHS1-0 blurb

 

 

GUARDED HEARTS BOOK 1: MORGAN

GH1 Morgan2 6x9 final sm

 

A new shifter series from Claire Marta and Nia Farrell

Release Date October 19, 2019

Blogger signup http://bit.ly/MorganBloggerForm
Amazon Universal Link http://mybok.to/GH1Morgan
Amazon US  link      Amazon UK link
Teasers and Excerpts http://bit.ly/MorganWP
Goodreads reviews http://bit.ly/MorganGR
Pinterest Board http://bit.ly/GHSPins

Tag line: Two shifters must keep their fated mate safe when darkness threatens.

Blurb: When grad student Morgan Leviss chose sexual surrogacy for her thesis, she never expected to become one. Now she’s tasked with turning two reclusive men into social creatures. Zac Blackstone and Aiden Goldman are nothing like what she expects. Handsome and charming, they’re a puzzle she finds intriguing.

Zac and Aiden have known each other for over two hundred years.  Part of a cadre of shifters, they’re on a mission to mate and procreate. Powerful warriors for centuries, they lack the social skills and sexual experience needed to attract a partner. When a beautiful redhead comes into their life to teach them, they discover new hope.

Bound by secrecy, the men can’t tell her who they really are. What they are. Increasingly drawn to Morgan, they begin to recognize her as their fated female.  Convincing her that she’s theirs may be as hard as keeping her alive when danger appears from the shadows.

Morgan is the first in the Guarded Hearts Series of standalone Erotic Paranormal Romance Ménage deftly penned as subtle Romantic Comedy with a heat level that’s off the charts. Written for Ages 18+.

Genres: Paranormal Romance / Romantic Comedy / Sci-Fi Fantasy / Erotic Romance / Ménage

(Heat Level Five)

First in the Guarded Hearts series of standalones (no previous reading required)

Cover Reveal September 1, 2019

Release Date October 19, 2019

 

EXCERPT (731 words):

Morgan was speechless.  When scholarly, bespectacled Emmett had escorted her upstairs tonight, she never expected to be met at the door by two very naked and extremely well-endowed men.

Holy.  Shit.

Tonight’s session was supposed to be about discovery. Shedding clothes, honestly evaluating your body, discovering hidden strengths, discussing doubts, and finding ways to work through them.

These guys seemed to be doing just fine.

She picked her jaw up from the floor and forced her feet to move forward from where she’d been frozen in place, stunned by the sight of them.  Zac might be older, but dear Lord, he was perfection, from the manscaped hair on his chest to the Adonis belt pointing the way to the promised land.  Aiden could be a cover model, with his chest shaved and lightly oiled muscles gleaming in the glow of dozens of lit candles that were scattered around the room.

Jesus, take me now.

“Good evening, Morgan,” Aiden greeted her, his voice slightly roughened. “We have prepared ourselves for this evening as required for this session.”

They were both staring at her expectantly.

Leaving her coat and bag on her normal chair, she ran her palms nervously down her sides. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I can see that.”

They moved to stand beside the sofa.  She sank into the recliner facing them.  They looked so at ease with their nudity. As if it didn’t bother either of them that they were buck naked in front of each other. Morgan was having a hard time keeping her mind on track. An insidious little whisper in her head kept telling her to skip sessions. It was accompanied by images of sweating, thrusting bodies.

“Is something wrong?” Zac inquired when the silence stretched. “You seem… uncomfortable.”

Morgan blinked. “No. No. It’s just not how I planned it.  I thought that we would talk first before you stripped. I wanted to discuss how you feel about your bodies and what you think are your individual strengths and weaknesses.”

“I don’t like my toes,” Zac said, squinting down at them.  “They seem too…, I don’t know.  Gnarly?  Other than that, I am pleased with this vessel.  It is that of a well-made, mature man who can handle whatever life brings him.  Aiden tried to talk me into shaving my chest, but I read that some women find the tactile sensation of chest hair to be pleasing. What do you think about furbabies?”

Morgan forgot to breathe for a second. Furbabies? Was this leading into some Furries kink where everyone dressed up as cute animals? She couldn’t imagine either man dressed up in a bunny suit but she didn’t yet know their sexual tastes. After the spanking incident, anything was possible.

“I… um, like men with chest hair,” she admitted. “And you’re right.  Some women do enjoy the sensation, especially against sensitive parts of their bodies.  Your scruff…”

Zac arched a questioning brow.

Morgan felt her cheeks warm ten degrees.  “Yes,” she croaked, wondering how in the hell she was going to talk herself out of this one.  She’d been imagining how it would feel against her skin while she rode his mouth.  “A soft beard can be very stimulating.  An abrasive, prickly beard can hurt to the point of turning someone off, whether it’s kissing or oral stimulation.”

“Like cunnilingus?” Aiden asked.

“And fellatio,” she stated, her gaze caroming between the two of them.  “When two men have a relationship with each other.”

“We wouldn’t know,” Zac told her.  “We’ve never been with a woman to find out. Soon, though, we hope.  We have been watching threesomes in porn to see how these things work.”

They wanted a threesome?

Oh.  My.  God.

Morgan’s thighs clenched together, her body reacting to the thought of having both of them between her legs.  Christ.  It was hard to not be aroused.

She had two naked virgins, eager for their first sexual experiences.  This was supposed to be one on one when the time came, and they were already planning a threesome.  Could she handle both of them?  Should she even try?

Reality couldn’t be as good as the wet dreams she’d been having.  Most mornings, she woke up needy and desperate and grateful for her roommate’s foresight to buy batteries ahead.

Who needed BOB when she could have Loki and Thor?

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DARK MOONS RISING

Dark Moons Rising Cover 6x9 sm

DARK MOONS RISING

by Nia Farrell

A PNR shifter D/s MFM ménage otherworldly erotic novelette

Unleashed March 15, 2019.  99ȼ or FREE with KU

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Deidra of Ravenhill is a daughter of light, a healer whose energy can be tapped by the one who marks her.  Mordred, the bastard son of Owain ap Coel, is determined to be that man.  He’s captured the castle, killed her family, and forced her to train as a comforter, preparing her for his ultimate possession.

While Mordred is gone, having the brand made to claim her, Deidra manages to escape the castle.  She nearly dies in the forest but is saved from falling into a poacher’s pit by Thorne, a dark lord, one of the race of giant shifters that she’s been taught to fear since childhood. 

With dark moons due to rise on the most dangerous night of the year, Thorne must become a centaur for them to escape the monsters that roam with the god of chaos.  He carries her to the safety of his brother’s hunting lodge, but is she truly out of danger?  From Mordred, perhaps, but there are two dark lords who want her—if she’s willing to share…

This story is out of this world—literally—with twin moons, magical healers, ruthless warlords, and a pair centaur shifters that will have you looking at horses in a whole new light.  Granted, intimacies only take place while they’re in human form.  If that’s a major disappointment, you might want to pass on this book.  The coming prequel is dark and dirty.  If you don’t want to miss it or the two planned sequels in the Dark Moons Saga, follow my Amazon author page at http://viewauthor.at/NiaFarrell.

Written for Terran readers Ages 18+.

 

Excerpt:

She could only hide her nature for so long.  If they wanted her, they would take her.  If they took her, they would know.

It did not make her decision any easier, but revealing herself sooner rather than later might work to her advantage.  Oddly, she could thank Mordred for the training that he had ordered her to undertake these past weeks while his custom mark was being made.  The lessons were meant to prepare her for his possession.  She never dreamed that she would use them to try to tempt a man, yet she now found herself preparing to seduce two.  And not just men.  They were another race altogether.  Dark lords.  Manbeasts.  Centaurs who would split her asunder if they chose to take her in that form.

The thought made her tremble, but she had to risk it.  She’d made her choice when she’d climbed on Thorne’s back and wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in his heady male scent as he galloped through the forest at breakneck speed, carrying her to safety.

Casting a glance about the room, Deidra spied a ewer of water on a sideboard.  Untying the length of linen from her hair, she unpinned her knot and loosened her locks, finger-combing them into some semblance of order.  Thirstier than she’d been in her life, she could not resist stealing a few sips of water before wetting the cloth and scrubbing her face, neck, and hands.  She moistened it again, as needed, cleaning her fingernails, one by one, as best she could.  Helpless to do more without the proper tools, she turned her attention to her poor legs and was tending the worst of her scratches when the brothers came back.

Immediately she dropped to her knees, with head bowed and her hands locked behind her, presenting herself as she had been trained, except that she was still dressed.  One of them—Thorne, she thought—whistled softly. 

“Well, well,” he murmured.  “What have we here?  Speak, femina.”

“Sires, this girl was born Deidra of Ravenhill.  Her father Fallyn is—was—lord there, until Mordred, bastard of Owain ap Coel, captured it.  He plans to take what no man has had and mark this girl as his.  Please, my lords, this girl would rather die than suffer his touch.  No amount of training will change that.”

Expletives blistered the air as Ragan cursed her father’s murderer.  “We have heard of this Mordred.  I take it, you were being made ready for him?”

“Aye, milord.  For him, and, he threatened, for his friends.  Becoming a comforter requires much preparation.  Advanced training allows one girl to satisfy multiple partners,” she added meaningfully.  She’d only just begun that phase when she managed to escape, thanks to the floral bouquet she’d been allowed to pick for her room.  The natural sedative from one plant had rendered her guard unconscious, long enough for her to access the hidden passage.

She had never seen such motion in stillness, yet both men remained exactly where they were.

“He will come,” Thorne grated, clenching his fists, his chest heaving with each hot breath.  “He will want her.”

“Perhaps not,” she whispered.  “Mordred wants what no man has had.  If that changes…”

The words remained unspoken, hovering in the air between them, the silence thickening with each passing second.  Now or never, she told herself.  Inhaling, she drew her thoughts inward, tapped into her core, and focused on her heart center, drawing the energy there first, then feeling the luminescence spread throughout her body until her skin glowed softly and her fingertips were limned in light.  “Please.”  Breaking protocol, rejecting the objectification of this girl and reclaiming the birthright of her true self, she boldly met their gazes and pleaded, “Help me, Thorne, Ragan!  I beg you!”

When they did not punish or correct her, she exhaled softly.  As the tension drained from her body, she glowed even brighter.

Thorne hooked a bent finger under her chin and lifted her radiant face, his gaze locking with hers, truly seeing her for the first time, from her amethyst eyes to the thick, shining waves of white-gold hair.  With her head tilted back, it pooled in her clasped hands and spilled over to brush her hips.

His thumb traced her lower lip.  She looked at his mouth.  So very serious.  And his blue eyes.  Deep and mysterious, indeed.  With his humor hidden for the moment, the look on his face was riveting.

Thorne blew out softly.  “Deidra, do you know what you are asking?  You know what we are.”

“Aye,” she said.  “But I also know that Mordred would rob me of light.  Eventually, he would drain me.  He cares nothing for my needs.  He lusts for power and covets mine.  He was waiting to mark me, hoping that, with training, I would be more open to him.  If I shielded myself when he set his seal upon me, he would never draw more, at any other time, than at that moment.”

Deidra looked from Thorne to Ragan.  “I do not know what stories you have heard, but the words I speak are the truth, I swear by the goddess.  I am a child of Sola, a daughter of light.  It is our nature to help and to heal, but what we give must be renewed, by bathing in the rays of Sola or by drinking spring water charged with her light.  Marking,” she said, “is best done over the heart center, when a willing woman, radiant with Sola’s lifeforce, is at the peak of power and of passion.  My light has waned with the stress of the day, but I swear, I will give it freely, to you and your brother, if you will safekeep me from all others.”

Ragan studied her, considering.  “You would share your light?  And our bed?”

Deidra nodded.  Better their slave than Mordred’s.T 

 

EXCERPT 2:

Ragan left them briefly, returning with a jar of ointment.  He treated the scratches on her legs, then dipped two fingers into the jar and pulled out a generous portion.  Part went between her legs, adding to the moisture already pooling.  The rest, he spread on the tip of his erection.  Getting her first real look at it, she understood why.

Thorne was huge, but Ragan was gigantic, easily ten inches long with a girth to match.  If not for her training, she was certain she would have swooned.

Deidra bit her lower lip and watched his preparations.  “Hands above your head,” Ragan ordered.  She thought Thorne might bind them, but he caught her wrists instead and held them firmly in his grasp.

“Relax as best you can, love,” Thorne murmured, kissing her forehead.  “Just close your eyes and think of me.”

Ragan growled and cast a black look at his brother.  “Shut the fuck up, Thorne.  Don’t listen to him, Deidra—except for the relaxing part.”

She smiled, struggling not to giggle.  Here she was, pinned by one man to a bed of another she’d met not three hours past, who was about to take her virginity, and he and his brother were bickering like schoolboys.  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, looked at Ragan, and promptly burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.  “But you two…”

“Yes.  Quite a pair, are we not?”  Rather than be offended, Ragan seemed glad to see her so at ease with them.  “For better or worse, we are yours, little dove.  Now relax. That’s it.  That’s right.  Perfect.  Just breathe.  Breathe.  And keep your eyes on me, dove.  Once we get past the pain, I swear to you, I shall make you fly.”

 

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SOMETHING AMAZING: THE THREE GRACES BOOK FOUR

Bodybuilder

SOMETHING AMAZING: THE THREE GRACES BOOK FOUR

by Nia Farrell

Length 20,831 words.  Release date August 1, 2018.

Amazon Universal/KU http://mybook.to/TG4 

Amazon US  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07F2QHJ5R

Goodreads http://bit.ly/TG4GR 

 

Nico White is a bisexual American Indian musician and a shaman who has visions of his soulmates.  In his dreams, there are always three of them—two men and one woman who reincarnate together again and again.  He meets psychic medium Grace Murphy first, but it’s six months more before they meet J.T. Santiago, an ex-Navy SEAL and former cage fighter with PTSD on top of the guilt that he’s still carrying from other lifetimes that they’ve shared.  It soon becomes clear that the reason they’re together again is to help J.T. heal.

J.T. is a Dominant, but he’s never had a male submissive and Grace and Nico are a package deal.  It’s a learning curve for all of them, with J.T.’s initiation into MMF and MM relations and Grace’s introduction to BDSM.  With Grace’s yin, J.T’s yang, and Nico’s center balance, the three of them come together as far as J.T.’s PTSD will allow.  But healing the present means remembering the past, however painful it might be.

An interracial paranormal MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance.  The book shares some scenes with Something Else (The Three Graces Book One) told from Nico’s point of view and includes additional scenes.  Contains explicit sexual content, written for mature readers.  Ages 18+.

 

Excerpt:

The Pumphouse is hopping.  The line’s out the door, and the temperature is dropping now that the sun is behind City Hall.  When Grace shivers, I take her shawl, wrap it and my arms around her, and pull her back against me.  The top of her head fits under my chin.  Inhaling deeply, I smell the light fragrance of her shampoo and honeysuckle on her skin.

“Mmm,” she breathes, relaxing against me like we’ve known each other forever, not just eight hours or so.  “I’m going to have to apologize to Anna.  She tried to get us together before this, but the timing never worked out.  Between fairs on weekends, readings in the evenings, and my job at THE Bookstore, I haven’t had much time for myself.  Have I told you that I’m glad you came?”

“You can tell me again,” I assure her.  “I’m glad that you’re here, too, Grace.  At long fucking last,” I add pointedly, whispering in her ear.

Just when I think she can’t get any cuter, she giggles.

She turns her head to whisper back, “I thought you were going to say, ‘But I haven’t come.  Yet…’”  She falls silent, all traces of humor gone, the instant she feels me swelling against her back.  “Nico?”

I fight the urge to grind my hips into hers.  If she had any idea of how badly I want her, and how roughly I’d like to take her, she’d be freaking right now.

“Grace.  Sweetheart.  Don’t.  Move.  Otherwise, they’re going to get dinner and a show.”

We’ve already attracted attention as the only a male/female couple in line.  I see at least one former sexual partner in the queue, but David’s not interested in a mixed-gender ménage.  An all-male review is more his style, and the more, the merrier.

“Sorry.  Sir.”  The first word tells me that she understands.  The second lets me know what her psychic radar’s already picked up on me.  I’ve never discussed BDSM with Anna.  We keep things platonic between us and pour our passion into our music.

Good girl,” I tell Grace.  “I can see we’re going to get along just fine, but you do know we’re missing one, right?  If your dreams match mine, you know there are three of us.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers.  This time, when she trembles, it’s not from the cold.

“Have you met him?”

“No.”

“Me, neither.  Soon, though.  Don’t you think?  Now that we’ve met, surely he’s close.”

“I hope the hell so,” she breathes.  “I was starting to think I missed you guys, that I’ve been saving myself for nothing.”  She goes quiet for a moment.  “I don’t have any experience.  Will that bother you?”

“Ah, Grace.”  I bury my nose in her hair and nuzzle the top of her head.  “Once he gets here, we’ll give what you can take, and take what you can give.”

She’s shaking now.  I can smell her arousal.  If I slip my hand between us and cup her sex, I’m certain that she’s sopping wet, the crotch of her leggings soaked with her juices, imagining what it will be like to be taken by two men.

Or one man, while he takes me.

 

SEXCERPT:

I lean down to kiss her, claiming the lips that I’ve only dreamed about.  She melts into me, tasting, feeling, smelling the musk of our arousal.  Reaching up, she weaves the fingers of one hand in my hair and touches me with the other, learning, exploring, discovering what I have to offer.

She’s shy enough, she keeps things above my waist.  I slide a hand around to her low back, pull her tight against me, and let her feel just how much I want her.

J.T. strips, climbs on the bed, and sits against the center of the headboard.  The engorged length of his meaty nine-inch cock rises like a Shiva lingam stone, ready to be worshipped and adored.

He motions for Grace to join him and has her lie with her head between his spread knees and her arms raised.  He manacles her slim wrists with his large, callused hands.  His cock dips toward her face, pre-cum glistening in the slit.

Talk about sin on a stick.

I tear off the rest of my clothes.

“Fuck, girl,” he growls.  “Nico, look at her, man.  She’s fucking perfect.  I can’t believe you didn’t tap this already.  Six months, you held back.  Are you some kind of fucking saint?”

Grace’s eyes meet mine.  I’m standing, nude, at the foot of the bed, fisting myself, lusting at the sight of her being held by J.T.  Remembering the bondage on her browser history, I could easily get off just seeing her restrained and at his mercy.

I make a mental note to buy ropes.

Lots of ropes.

“Legs wide, baby girl.”  J.T. twists her nipple.  Grace gasps so hard, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had an orgasm.  She blushes and turns her head.

“No.”  J.T. orders her to look at me.  “You don’t take your eyes off him, understood?  Now spread those legs.  Nico, get in here.  Get between those white thighs of hers.  Can’t you see?  She’s ready for you, man.”

Grace watches me with parted lips and bedroom eyes, expectant, willing, hopeful.  I let mine drift south, past the creamy swell of her breasts, the dent of her navel, the jut of her hip bones, to the glistening folds below her mons.  Knowing that I’ll be the first man inside her makes me as hard as I’ve ever been.

I tap her clit with my cock and slide it lower, wetting the head with her juices.  Parting her swollen folds, I lock my gaze on hers and push my crown inside.

Her labored pants and the fear in her eyes tell me that she’s fighting panic.  Shallow breaths hiss between her clenched teeth and mine.  I dare to go deeper, dredging into her, tearing her tender flesh.

She grimaces and bites her lips.

I flex my hips and push deeper.

Her face contorts with pain.  “Dear.  God.  Bless it.”

At her words, I freeze, holding myself suspended above her on trembling arms.  Damn it, I hate that I’m hurting her when she feels so fucking perfect to me.  I want to make this good for both of us.

“You’re doing fine, baby girl.”  Shifting, J.T. keeps her wrists secured in one hand and reaches for her breasts with the other.  “Love these tits,” he growls.  “Fuck.  I could bite and suck these all night long.  Sometime soon, we’re going to put on a movie or find a game on T.V.   We’ll lay you out on the coffee table and munch on you for hours, me and Nico.  Neck, breasts, nipples, toes, pussy… until there’s not an inch of you we haven’t tasted.”

“Fuck.”  Grace looks like she’s on the verge of coming, turned on by J.T.’s dirty talk.

I let her have her moment, then pull her from whatever fantasy she’s entertaining.  “Grace.  Sweetheart, I need to move.”

Grace looks at me.  Emotions play across her face.  Discomfort.  Arousal.  Puzzlement.  Impatience.  Confusion.  Displeasure.

“Fuck me.  Fuck.  Me!” she orders, then bites my chest.

What the hell, Grace?

 “Christ!” I snap at her.  The little shit.  Doesn’t she know better than to bait me?

 Of course she does.  But we can’t have her topping from the bottom, can we?

I give her my best Dom look, the one that says, What the hell do you think you’re doing?  How dare you fuck with me?

J.T. chuckles when he sees it.  Grace goes still.  Holding her breath, she braces herself for what’s coming.  I lunge forward, pushing as deep as her body will let me.  She whimpers.  I ignore it.  Gathering myself, I slam into her until I’m seated to the root and my balls slap her taint.  I hold her tight against me, grinding my groin against hers, pressing her clit until pleasure begins to take the edge off the pain.

She’s.  So.  Fucking.  Tight.

I start to move.  I pump my hips, increasing the depth and strength of each stroke until I’m driving my full length in and out of her, and she’s moving with me, rising up to meet my thrusts.

J.T. watches us.  His hungry gaze is locked on where our bodies are joined.  His ears are strained, listening to my dark red flesh slap against her pale white skin.  Inhaling the scent of sex that fills the air, he moans and bites his lip.  He looks and sounds like a starving man who’s dying for more.

“On your knees,” he growls when he can’t stand it anymore.

I take hold of Grace’s hips, lift, and start pounding into her.  The change in angle lets me hit her G-spot and the first orgasm tears through her.  God, I love the feel of her tight pussy, milking my length.

A second orgasm comes hard on the heels of the first.  J.T. releases her hands and shifts positions.  Easing to one side of Grace, he fists her hair and brings her face to where he wants it, with her mouth at his cock.  “Take it,” he orders, tightening his hold.  Grace runs her small pink tongue around the rim and opens wide.  J.T. rocks his hips and begins fucking her face.  Soon we’re thrusting to the same rhythm, above and below.  Grace’s moans vibrate her throat.  J.T. pinches her nipple, robbing her of breath.  So.  Damn.  Good.  Jesus, now that I have her, I can’t get enough.

J.T. sticks with the game plan.  Me, vaginal.  Him, oral.  He’s going to want to do more, but he’s patient enough to wait.  Not six months, thank fuck, but he’s an ex-Navy SEAL and a former MMA fighter.  He’s conditioned and disciplined.

And a little bit in denial.

I see the way he looks at me, watching my cock, admiring the sheen of sweat and the play of muscles as I make love to the woman between us.  J.T. may not be openly bi, but he didn’t say no when we talked about sex.  Seeing that huge cock of his stretching out Grace’s jaws makes me hotter than hell.  I imagine the taste and the feel of it in my mouth, against my tongue, coming down my throat.  I wonder what it will feel like, shoved up my ass, when he finally cuts loose on me.

 

What the hell, Grace?

 

“Christ!” I snap at her.  The little shit.  Doesn’t she know better than to bait me?

 

Of course she does.  But we can’t have her topping from the bottom, can we?

 

I give her my best Dom look, the one that says, What the hell do you think you’re doing?  How dare you fuck with me?

 

J.T. chuckles when he sees it.  Grace goes still.  Holding her breath, she braces herself for what’s coming.  I lunge forward, pushing as deep as her body will let me.  She whimpers.  I ignore it.  Gathering myself, I slam into her until I’m seated to the root and my balls slap her taint.  I hold her tight against me, grinding my groin against hers, pressing her clit until pleasure begins to take the edge off the pain.

 

She’s.  So.  Fucking.  Tight.

 

I start to move.  I pump my hips, increasing the depth and strength of each stroke until I’m driving my full length in and out of her, and she’s moving with me, rising up to meet my thrusts.

 

J.T. watches us.  His hungry gaze is locked on where our bodies are joined.  His ears are strained, listening to my dark red flesh slap against her pale white skin.  Inhaling the scent of sex that fills the air, he moans and bites his lip.  He looks and sounds like a starving man who’s dying for more.

 

“On your knees,” he growls when he can’t stand it anymore.

 

I take hold of Grace’s hips, lift, and start pounding into her.  The change in angle lets me hit her G-spot and the first orgasm tears through her.  God, I love the feel of her tight pussy, milking my length.

 

A second orgasm comes hard on the heels of the first.  J.T. releases her hands and shifts positions.  Easing to one side of Grace, he fists her hair and brings her face to where he wants it, with her mouth at his cock.  “Take it,” he orders, tightening his hold.  Grace runs her small pink tongue around the rim and opens wide.  J.T. rocks his hips and begins fucking her face.  Soon we’re thrusting to the same rhythm, above and below.  Grace’s moans vibrate her throat.  J.T. pinches her nipple, robbing her of breath.  So.  Damn.  Good.  Jesus, now that I have her, I can’t get enough.

 

J.T. sticks with the game plan.  Me, vaginal.  Him, oral.  He’s going to want to do more, but he’s patient enough to wait.  Not six months, thank fuck, but he’s an ex-Navy SEAL and a former MMA fighter.  He’s conditioned and disciplined.

 

And a little bit in denial.

 

I see the way he looks at me, watching my cock, admiring the sheen of sweat and the play of muscles as I make love to the woman between us.  J.T. may not be openly bi, but he didn’t say no when we talked about sex.  Seeing that huge cock of his stretching out Grace’s jaws makes me hotter than hell.  I imagine the taste and the feel of it in my mouth, against my tongue, coming down my throat.  I wonder what it will feel like, shoved up my ass, when he finally cuts loose on me.