Portrait of attractive young woman with red lipstick and  short

Something More: The Three Graces Book Three

by Nia Farrell

Length 21,973 words. Newly expanded second edition release date July 15, 2018.

99¢ Special Intro Price – FREE with KU

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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 loves 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 newly expanded edition of a 2016 Golden Flogger Finalist is a BDSM MFM ménage erotic romance with adult situations and potential triggers. Written for Ages 18+.



Cam scoots his chair around.  When I step between his feet, I’m facing him and, across the table, Cord.  I lean forward, nuzzling Cam’s ear, watching his brother, remembering what it was like to have them both inside me.  The plus-size dildo they bought to use while Cam was gone was a poor substitute for the real thing.

I catch his earlobe with my lips, caging it with my teeth and gently tugging.  My mouth slides down, following the line of his jaw to the center of his chin.  He was clean-shaven this morning, but Cam’s beard grows so quickly, he usually shaves twice a day.  Right now, there’s sandpaper abrading my skin, making my lips ultrasensitive.

I glance at Cord, who’s watching us with the intensity of a hawk in a fresh-cut field, who knows that patience is a virtue well-rewarded.  I just don’t know how prison has affected his control.  Telling myself that I’d better not test it, I give my full attention to his older brother.

Cam smells like I remember him, ocean breeze and woodsy musk.  I suck on his lower lip, hear the telling intake of breath, and know his body’s response.  I’ve seen it too many times on screen and in person.  He can go from flaccid to fully hard in seconds flat and can maintain an erection pretty much all night.

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.

The bag of peas falls to the floor.  Rather than fisting my hair and pulling it like he used to during kink, Cam winnows his fingers in my pixie cut.  If he rubs my scalp, he’ll feel the scar from the surgery, done to relieve the pressure on my brain.

My pussy throbs, outer lips engorged, inner folds getting wetter by the second.  I feel a terrible emptiness in my womb.  My breasts ache, hurting almost as much as they did when my sick baby Hannah slept through her feeding time.  I long for what once was.  For the three of us together, sharing my childhood home. 

I wonder what Cord did with it.  Except for the thousand dollars I left to my parent’s church, he inherited everything I had, everything my parents left me.  The checking and savings accounts.  Stocks and bonds.  Daddy’s 401K and the insurance money divided into multiple CDs.  The house I was forced to abandon, the day I officially died.

I pull back, breathing hard.  Focusing on Cam, I look into eyes filled with pain, and hunger, and questions that I can’t begin to answer.  “I’m sorry.”  I touch my forehead to his, hoping he won’t press me to expound or to explain.

“You okay?” Cam asks, his voice hoarse with longing.

“I think so.  And you?”

“I think so.”  He quirks his trademark grin.  “Give me two minutes in the bathroom and I’ll feel better.”

Excerpt 2:

I shiver, remembering our first time together, the three of us.  Cruz had told me that his brother was coming to visit from California, where he worked in the film industry.  He said he had a DVD and asked me to watch it with him.  It was an adult film, XXX with a thin plot and subpar acting, but Cam… sweet baby Jesus, he was smoking hot and hung like a horse.

In a pivotal scene, a female hostage was riding another woman who wore a strap-on dildo when the rescuing hero—Cam—burst into the room.  Quickly assessing the situation, he lubed himself, fingered the hostage’s backdoor, then sank his length inside her.  All twelve inches of it.  It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.

Double penetration.

There was no hiding my arousal.  My pussy was sopping wet and my nipples were hard as diamonds.  We stretched out on the sofa and locked in a full-body kiss.  Cruz palmed my bottom, then slipped a finger down the seam of my ass and pushed against my pucker.  It was so taboo, so dirty, so tempting.  I found myself pressing against him, wanting more.

“Fuck, angel,” Cruz whispered, wetting his thumb then inserting it into my most private place.  “Cam is gonna love you.”


Cruz felt me tense and worked his magic with his hands, mouth, and fingers.  I was clay in a master potter’s hands, ready to let him mold and shape me and bend me to his will.  He didn’t stop, not even when his brother let himself in the house and found us in the living room.

Cam dropped his overnight bag on the floor by his feet, his gaze locked on us.  On me.  He was as gorgeous as he was on the screen, adjusting himself, stroking his growing erection.

“Wait until you feel us both inside you,” Cruz said, fucking me with his fingers, two in my vagina, one in my ass.  “You’ll never want to do it any other way.”

He made me come so hard, I passed out.  When I came to, the three of us were in bed together.  Cam was stroking my back, palming my bottom.  I moaned, and he licked my ear, catching the lobe between his teeth.

“You sure she’s up for this?” he asked Cruz.

“Fuck, yeah.  Angel, tell him.  Tell Cam you want him in your virgin ass.”

Cam bit down, his breath hissing in my ear.  “Nobody’s tapped this yet, sweetheart?” he asked.  “From what I saw in the living room, I think you’re going to love it, but I’m not going to touch you until you ask for it.  You might not be jailbait, but this needs to be consensual, and not just because it’s what Cord and I like.  This is what we both want, but you’ve got to want it, too.”

They made me want it.  I never stood a chance.

Excerpt 3:

Their kisses pull me back to awareness.  I’m lying on my back.  My hands are still cuffed, but the sock is gone.  Cord’s mouth is on mine; his fingers caress my face, my hair.  Cam’s head is between my thighs.  He rubs his lips over my tattoos and traces each name with his tongue.  Cordell trails down my left side; Cameron scrolls up my right.  The last letter of his name brings his face close to my crotch.  He blows out softly, teasing me with his breath.

“I remember how you taste,” Cam murmurs against my mismatched nether curls.  “As sweet as wine.  As creamy as the finest chardonnay.  Let’s see if you’ve gotten better with age.”

The man has a tongue that could benchpress weights.  Long, strong, determined, relentless.  He tastes as far as he can reach, as deep as he can go, taking as much as I can give him and then demanding more.  He fucks me with his tongue, hooking my knees over his shoulders to claim my pussy, then my ass.  After he’s given me the most thorough of rimjobs, he kisses my thighs, my vulva, my fleece.  Poised above my clit, he presses it with his tongue like he’s squeezing cider and drinks the juices that flow.

Cord’s mouth and hand are lavishing my breasts, kissing away the hurt, adoring me despite my scars.  He opens wide and inhales a nipple at the same time Cam puts his mouth over my clitoris and seals us together with sweet, searing suction.  The bolt from Cord’s mouth strikes my core; tension builds in my body, desperately clawing, begging for release.  Handcuffed to the headboard, I am helpless, at their mercy.  I mewl, twisting in their arms, needing the surcease that I know they can provide.

It comes without warning when Cord pinches my nipple, pulling hard enough, my body arches off the bed.  Cam slides his arm beneath me, anchoring me to him.  His mouth is fastened on me but now he sucks hard enough to swallow me whole.  My body convulses as I climax, one mouth laving my breast, the other lapping my juices as my orgasm goes on and on.

“Angel,” Cord whispers.  “Our beautiful angel.”

Cam kisses my pussy and strokes his name on my thigh.  “God, you are so perfect.”

I know I’m not, but they make me want to believe it anyway.

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A young woman with funky hair on a black background.


by Nia Farrell

Length 20,190 words.  Expanded second edition release date July 8, 2018.

Amazon e-book      FREE with KU     Amazon US e-book/KU

Goodreads first edition 2015          Goodreads second edition 2018

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 may contain triggers.

Excerpt 1:

There are six feet three inches of male heat on my back when I grab one of the reusable glass bottles and close the refrigerator door. He bends down to murmur in my right ear; his nose nudges the row of hoops that rim it as his breath dances over my skin. “I don’t know where you went,” he says, “but I sure as hell hope you go there again–and take us the fuck with you next time.”

I catch myself leaning toward him like I’m drawn by a goddamn magnet. There’s no denying I want them. I’d just like an idea of how this needs to go down. Before I give myself a chance to chicken out, I flat out ask him, “Do you two do everything together?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” He lifts his hand–the one that has L O V E tattooed on his fingers–and strokes my arm, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. “If you know our music, you know us. It won’t be gentle, and it won’t be quick, but I can fucking guarantee we’ll give you the best sex of your life….”

If anyone else called me kitten, I might take offense.  But the Spanish rolling off his tongue has an oddly erotic appeal.

Now I’m curious.  “Kitten?  You want to tell me where that came from?”

“Ever try to catch a feral cat?” he asks me, sliding his hand up to my shoulder and flexing his fingers around it.  “Even a kitten will shred you to ribbons.  But you’ve got the spice to go with the claws, don’t you, gatita?”

Shit.  The temperature in here just raised ten degrees.  Needing to chill, I twist off the lid, slam back a mouthful of cold spring water, and nearly die of brain freeze.  “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Jackson chuckles.  “That’s the plan.”

“Since when?”  I stop rubbing my forehead long enough to throw a look over my shoulder.  I flick my eyelashes at him, daring him to flirt some more.  We kind of skipped that part when we went straight from heated looks to promises of three-way kink.

“The diner,” he says.  “You gave as good as you got.  You sounded like you could handle us.”

“Mmmm.  My hooker voice.  And how did I look?”

I’m fishing.  He knows it.  I know it.  We’re both aware it’s not a deal breaker, but his answer could put a whole new spin on things.

“Like you’d dare anything.  Risk anything.  You were…hot,” he rumbles.  “So fucking hot.  I wanted to drag you into the back and bend you over a sink and—”

“Spank me?”

“Is that what you want, brat?”  He underscores the last word with a slap on my bottom, his tone full of menace.

I shiver, and not from the chilled bottle that I’m holding against my chest.

“Ah,” he says, sounding pleased.  “Then here’s a word of warning.  A little sass gives us an excuse to get creative.  Disrespect us, or anyone else, and we’ll keep you on the edge so long, you’ll be begging us to put you out of your misery.  No Mercy,” he whispers, turning me to face him.

Up close, his tats are even more amazing.  I’ve never wanted ink, but I’ll gladly give his some serious consideration.

“If you’ve wondered about the band’s name, there it is.  From a former groupie when we were still performing as The Thomason Twins.  She had a sweet little pussy, but she wouldn’t watch her mouth.  When she figured out we’d never let her come, she moved on.  The bitch lasted four weeks.  It was the longest fucking month of my life.”

I can’t help it.  Lifting my free hand, I palm his chest to feel his piercing and his nipple peaks against it.  I drop my gaze and see a distinct tenting of his jeans.


“Yep, I feel your pain.”  Slanting him a look, I wonder if they were thinking music and hoping for more when they bought me an excused absence.

If he’d known, would Kirk have given me time off work for bad behavior?

Not that it matters.  I’m theirs, or will be.

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knitted winter clothes



by Nia Farrell

Length 18,646 words.  Expanded second edition release date July 1, 2018.

Amazon e-book     

Goodreads (first edition) reviews          Goodreads (second edition) reviews  

Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who dreams of her soulmates—Nico White, a bisexual American Indian musician, and 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.  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 forging a future will mean healing the past, however painful it might be.

An interracial paranormal MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance, this book is written as a standalone, but the epilogue ends with a teaser for the second book in the series.  Contains explicit sexual content, written for mature readers.  Ages 18+.

Reviewers: “It’s part paranormal, part BDSM, part love story, but all good….” “Imaginative and sexy” “A likable, strong heroine and two very hot heroes” “I am a strong believer in psychic abilities so for me this book was a HOME RUN! I loved the storyline and the sex – WOW – talk about HOT!!!” “Jam-packed with just about everything a reader can imagine (and fantasize about)!…Nico is…hotter than hot! …J.T. is a total alpha and literally makes the pages (and your panties) sizzle.

Excerpt:  SOMETHING ELSE by Nia Farrell

J.T. notices my submissive traits.  I keep my eyes down and let the two men lead the conversation, listening more than talking.  And I notice his Dominant traits.  He pays attention to my needs, making certain Cherry finally brings the glass of water that I ordered when we first got here and asking if my burger is cooked the way I like it.  He compliments my hair, my flowing New Age dress, and asks me the standard getting-to-know-you questions.

I tell him where I was born, where I went to school, where I work, where we live.

“You need to come out,” I tell him.  Please, please, please.  “It’s too cold for swimming, but on warm days, the fish still jump.  Or we could kayak.”  We have two, but a neighbor has several that he rents to campers, fishermen, and the occasional waterfowl hunter looking for a better way to retrieve downed birds.

Nico seconds the notion.  “Sure,” he says, lifting his beer in a toast.  “Bring your stuff.  Spend the weekend.  You can have my room.  I’ll take the couch.”  His choice of words reminds J.T. that, so far, we are only friends.

Hopefully, that’s about to change.

The warmth in Nico’s eyes makes me wonder if he’d rather share his room—his bed—with J.T. alone.  It would let the two men bond before adding me to the mix.  The trouble is, I can’t get a handle on J.T.  What’s he up for?

I need J.T. to want us.  Both of us.  I want what I’ve seen.  What I’ve dreamed about.  The three of us sharing a bed together, sometimes with me between, sometimes with Nico.  When we looked at properties, a master suite large enough for a California king was at the top of our list.  So far Nico’s been sleeping there alone, just him and those big, talented hands of his, fisting himself into oblivion.

But I can almost hear J.T.’s doubting Thomas.  The man doesn’t trust himself.  I sense the same darkness he does, the part of him that makes him afraid he’ll cross a line and hurt someone.

 Wounded spirit.  And not just in this life.

 Nothing that simple.

 Nothing that easy.

 Not that healing PTSD is ever easy.

Suddenly, I see him, struggling, hurting, lost.  Crippled with “soldier’s heart” in an alternate-reality past life that we shared, he’s also suffered shell shock in wars that he fought without us.  With the vision comes the knowledge of why we are here this time.  To help him mend.  To help him heal.  He’s been trying to dispel the darkness when he needs to embrace it.  Harness it.  Learn to live with his shadow self.

I can almost feel his collar on my neck and see the ink on Nico’s.

I exhale softly and commit.  “Or my room,” I offer, looking up when Nico stiffens.  It’s all he can do to remain silent and passive, but he’ll do it because he’s the beta male here.  Two alphas and me?  We’d end up tearing each other apart.

J.T. locks his gaze on mine and cocks his head, considering.  “You sure you’re ready for me?” he asks as he slides his hand beneath my skirt like a heat-seeking missile.  He has his answer when he finds my panties soaked.  “What about Nico?”

“I…We…”  Words are lost when he slides a finger between my pussy’s swollen lips and his thumb finds my clit.

“J.T.”  Nico makes sure he has his attention before dropping my bomb.  “She hasn’t been with one man, let alone two.  Not yet.  But it’s what she wants if you’re interested.”

Wow.  He didn’t just say that, did he?  My temperature raises two degrees thanks to the fucking full body blush I’ve got going on.

“Seriously?”  J.T. stops his finger where it’s at, gripped to the first joint by my exceptional tightness.  He looks at me, skeptical, his black eyes revealing nothing but the roiling heat of a man on the edge of conflagration.  He lets out the thinning leash that he’s struggling to hold onto and pushes into me until he’s knuckle-deep.  Pulling free, he brings his finger to my lips and inhales sharply when I suck my juices off him, knowing what he wants and giving it to him without one word being spoken.

“Fuck, yeah.”  He pulls out his wallet and tosses enough bills on the table to cover the three meals and tip.  “Let’s go.”


Look for SOMETHING DIFFERENT July 8, 2018 

and SOMETHING MORE July 15, 2018

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SOMETHING SPECIAL (The Three Graces Book Six)

Close up picture of an handsome young man in tuxedo ajusting his

Fashion latin man looking at camera with confidence

SOMETHING SPECIAL (THE THREE GRACES BOOK SIX) by Nia Farrell.  In a sequel to SOMETHING ELSE, Grace, J.T., and Nico honeymoon at a special BDSM resort.  Grace will finally experience her capture fantasy…except the warrior taking her won’t be Nico. 105 5×8 pages, 21,578 words.

Amazon buy link

ISBN-10: 0-9853145-0-8 Kindle

ISBN-13: 978-0-9853145-0-7 Kindle

Scheduled release date May 5, 2016


Grace Murphy, Anna James, and Rachel Givens aka Rae Simmons live in the fictional town of Posey, Minnesota.  They call themselves the Three Graces, because their first names mean just that.

Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who saved herself for her soul mates, bisexual American Indian musician Nico White and Latino veteran J.T. Santiago.  Grace is submissive, Nico is a switch, and J.T. is the dominant in their MMF BDSM ménage.

Before they met, J.T. had never been with a man.  He’d never been serious enough about a woman to consider marriage.  But Grace and Nico came as a package deal, and he’s fallen in love with them both.  When morning sickness hits the house, the two men bend their knees and plans are made for a very special honeymoon.  They’re giving Grace the capture fantasy of her dreams at Replay, a BDSM theme resort where patrons come to play in the past….



Something Special is the continuation of Something Else (The Three Graces Book One) by Nia Farrell, released August 25, 2015, by Dark Hollows Press.  In Something Else, psychic medium Grace Murphy has been saving herself for the men of her dreams: Nicolas White, a bisexual American Indian musician, and J. T. Santiago, a Latino veteran with PTSD.  Something Special begins six weeks after Grace and Nico meet J.T.

Chapter One

I hear Grace retching through the closed bathroom door and rap a knuckle in warning.  “I’m coming in,” I growl, as sick of this shit as Nico, who’s gone on an emergency run for more crackers and clear soda.  We both agree, she needs to see a fucking doctor.

Our woman is on her knees by the commode, one hand fisting the length of her ginger hair, the other desperately clutching to the seat while she dry heaves over the edge.  Damn it, I hate to see her like this.  She’s had stomach issues off and on for the past three days.  She’s already lost weight and she’s too fucking pale.  The girl needs meat, not saltines and ginger ale, which is about all she’s able to keep down these days.

She spits into the bowl and starts to push herself up.  I grab her arms and help her stand.  I may tower more than a foot over her five feet two inches, but I feel helpless as fuck.  Surely there’s something they can do.  People die of food poisoning, influenza, and God knows what else that she may or may not have.  My brother Esteban was a medic in the service.  He says we should find out what the hell’s going on before Grace gets dehydrated and ends up in the hospital, hooked up to an IV.

“Chica,” I croon in her ear when I feel her tensing up, like she’s just waiting for me to scold her.  Of course, she is.  She’s goddamn psychic.  It’s nothing for her to slip inside my head and listen to my thoughts, although I’ve found ways to work that to my advantage.  I like rough sex in the bedroom and the playroom.  Most of the time Grace knows exactly what I want without even being asked.  She’ll take as much as I can give her and when she senses I need more, she lets Nico handle the rest.  The past couple of days, it’s been the two of us rather than three.

“Sorry,” she croaks, her throat raw from vomiting.  There are dark circles under her brilliant green eyes, and her faint freckles stand out more than normal from that pale Irish skin of hers.

“Hey, this isn’t about that,” I tell her, holding onto her with one hand and flipping a tap with the other.  Wetting a washcloth, I chuck a finger beneath her chin and lift her face for cleaning.  “It’s about you not getting any better.  If anything, you’re worse.  I don’t care what you say, we’re taking you to the doctor tomorrow.  No more excuses.”

Done, I drape the washcloth on the edge of the sink and run a glass of tap water.  “Rinse,” I order, making sure she swishes at least twice.  Stomach acids are hard on teeth enamel.

“Good girl.”

Those two words are ones she’s learned to crave.  She gives me that look, the one that says she’s willing to please.  Willing to play.  But I’m her Dominant.  Her needs come before mine.  Get her clean.  Make her comfortable.  Find her something she can hopefully keep down.  Maybe later she’ll feel well enough, Nico and I can rock her to sleep.

“Yes, Master.”

Swear to God, her voice just dropped an octave.  The low note hits below the belt and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, not with Grace, anyhow.

“There is,” she says, eavesdropping again.  “You can mark me.”

I must admit, there are times when I love being wrong.

“You sure?”  Looking into those green glass eyes of hers, I see love shining in their depths.  Her mouth curves upward, soft and sweet perfection.

“Yes, Master.  I’m sure.  Fuck, I’ve got to change clothes anyway, otherwise I’m going to make the whole house smell skanky.”

Grace looks like a soap princess and swears like a sailor.  We’ve known each other six weeks, and she still manages to shock me.

“Potty mouth.”  I temper my scold with a grin.

“Blame Anna.  I never swore until I met her.”

So I’ve heard.  Anna is Grace’s best friend and Nico’s songwriting partner.  Anna’s been mopey as all shit since the Thomason twins left to finish their Caged tour.  The four of them – Anna, Nico, Jackson, and Jacob – are working on an album.  Tonight was their weekly Wednesday music writing night.  Nico says that Anna was in tears by the time the guys got done Skyping with her in the playroom.  She told Nico that she’ll be turning in her notice at work tomorrow.  Two more weeks, and she’s out of here – at least until Jackson and Jacob are done touring.

We had a bet how long it would be before she hit the road and joined them.  I’m so looking forward to that blow job.  Nico’s mouth, and that deep throat of his.  He’s done a great job, helping Grace learn and hone her technique, but when it comes to giving head, I’ll be honest.  A man knows how to please another man.

Grace pauses for the briefest, telling moment, with her hands poised at my leather belt.

Fuck.  I don’t want her to think she sucks.

Still tuned into me, she hears a double entendre and giggles.  “I do suck,” she quips, a sultry smile in that husky voice of hers.  “Maybe not as good as Nico, but I don’t think you mind my smaller mouth.  I think you like it tight.  Like the scrape of my teeth.  Like coating my tonsils with spunk.  Like painting my tits.  Please, J.T.?  Make us both feel better and pour your love on these tender boobies of mine.”

“Ah, chica.  I love you, baby girl.”

Grace gets back to business, unfastening my buckle and pulling until the two ends come apart.  Hooking a finger in my waistband, she works the button free, fishes for the zipper pull, and slides it down, metal teeth snicking as she opens my jeans.  My half-hard cock bulges the front of my boxers.  Rather than pull it through the opening, she grabs the elastic top of my underwear and tugs until it’s below my balls, pushing them up as it presses on my taint.  Not exactly a cock ring, but it still feels pretty damn good.

“Grace,” I murmur, taking over.  As much as I love the feel of her touch, she needs rest, which means this needs to be quick and she’s still off her game.  I fondle my sac and stroke my length, with a twist and a pull on the end of each upward motion, while I watch Grace watching me.  So hot, so pretty, even in her illness.  She stares at me, squeezing her sensitive breast with one hand while she slides the other lower and buries it in her crotch.  I pick up the pace.  She bites back a moan and rubs her clit harder, panting through parted lips.  The sight of her pink tongue sneaking a swipe to moisten them is enough to tip me over the edge.

“Now, chica.”  She climaxes almost on command.  I grunt as I shoot my load on her chest, spraying ropes of cum across her breasts and hand.

“Fuck.”  I give one more jerk and wipe my fingers and dick on the hem of Grace’s shirt before helping her out of it.  I’m careful – or lucky – enough to avoid making too much of a mess.  A quick wipe down with the washcloth, and she’s good for the go.

I kiss her forehead and keep my face to hers, noses touching, holding her still when she tries to wriggle free and keep me from smelling the sourness of her breath.  “Sit tight, baby girl.  I’ll bring clothes.”  Smoothing her hair, I kiss the top of her head and fetch her a full change, her favorite pajama bottoms and the mismatched cotton T-shirt she pairs with them.  Thank fuck Grace has her own fashion sense.  Whimsical in private, New Age ethereal when she’s reading at psychic fairs, and hot damn she’s ours when Nico and I take her out on the town.

The master bedroom’s en-suite still smells like puke and sex when Nico makes it back.  Stopping by the bed where I sit with Grace, he tests the air but says nothing.  Son of a bitch looks every inch the stereotypically stoic American Indian male, from his copper skin and black silk hair to the impassive features schooled on his handsome face.  I cock an eyebrow to remind him of the pecking order in the bedroom and playroom.   I top Nico.  Nico tops Grace.  I’m Master.  He’s Sir.  Grace is our lovely, psychically gifted, and very sick submissive.

Frowning, Nico hands over the crackers and a room-temp can of clear, carbonated beverage.

I set down the box and pour the pop in the glass tumbler on the bedside table.  “Think you can drink, Grace?”

“I’ll try,” she promises, taking the glass from my hand and sipping carefully.  When a tiny swallow doesn’t send her stomach reeling, she dares to take another.  “Sgood,” she says.  “Thanks, guys.  Sorry to be such a bother.”

“It’s our job to take care of you,” I remind her, fingering the collar we just placed around her neck.  The custom BDSM piece is a modern take on the traditional Claddagh design, a heart, typically crowned, held between two hands.  In this case, the heart is a padlock with a keyhole.  The engraving on the back names her OURS.

Like we did with her first green leather play collar, Nico and I both have keys.

“Nico, I’m going to leave a voice mail at the clinic, see how soon we can get her in tomorrow.  I think they normally start taking patients at nine, but we won’t know how they’re booked until someone gets there in the morning.”

Grace starts to open her mouth.  She looks at me and thinks better of it.

Yep, some days, having my thoughts heard pays in spades.

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The Three Graces Trilogy



THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY: scheduled for reissue January 2019

Three women.  Six men.  Things are about to get interesting.

The Three Graces Series by Nia Farrell – BDSM erotic romances from Dark Hollows Press.  SOMETHING ELSE, SOMETHING DIFFERENT, and SOMETHING MORE (nominated for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, 2016 Golden Flogger Awards).

Reviewers on The Three Graces series by Nia Farrell:  “As a reader who enjoys the complexities of ménage-fueled romances I’m thrilled to have discovered the Three Graces series and the erotic and intense storylines found within the pages….. add all of them to your bookshelf for hours of steamy fun!”  “Each book gets better and better.”

Reviewers on SOMETHING ELSE (MMF soulmates ménage): “It’s part paranormal, part BDSM, part love story, but all good….” “Imaginative and sexy” “A likeable, strong heroine and two very hot heroes” “I am a strong believer in psychic abilities so for me this book was a HOME RUN! I loved the storyline and the sex – WOW – talk about HOT!!!” “Jam-packed with just about everything a reader can imagine (and fantasize about)!…Nico is…hotter than hot! …J.T. is a total alpha and literally makes the pages (and your panties) sizzle.  Rated FIVE STARS at Barnes & Noble, 4.9 at Amazon.

Reviewers on SOMETHING DIFFERENT (MFM rock stars ménage): “Sexy and sultry”  “Fun and hot…This ménage à trois, featuring two sexy rock star brothers and a talented musician, will leave you breathless and wanting for more.” “Nia Farrell did not disappoint. Although Something Different is a heavier BDSM read than its predecessor, it was well written and flowed well. I cannot wait for more in this series.”  Rated FIVE STARS at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads.

Reviewers on SOMETHING MORE (MFM waitress/biker/porn star ménage + secret baby):  “The WARNING for this book should be STEAMY HOT & Panty Melting….”  “Anyone can write a story that has great sex scenes but give me a story along with the sex and you’ve got yourself a HUGE fan!  Rachel Givens and her daughter Hannah stole my heart immediately….Cam and Cord swooped in and not only filled Rachel’s heart with love and forgiveness but they also reached Hannah’s – which is a difficult task in itself. Just an amazing story!”  Rated FIVE STARS at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads.  Nominated for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, 2016 Golden Flogger Awards.


THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY – one book, three stories. Coming in e-book and paperback.


Something Else



The Three Graces Book One


Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who dreams of her soulmates – the two men she reincarnates with time and again.  While reading at an Irish festival, she meets Nicolas White, a bisexual American Indian musician.  A shaman with visions of his own, Nico recognizes Grace from his last sweat lodge as the red-haired woman in the south.  Now that they’ve found each other, surely the third one will come soon.

Six months later they meet J.T. Santiago, an ex-Navy SEAL and former cage fighter who owns a gym and teaches mixed martial arts.  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 forging a future means healing the past, however painful it might be.

Scheduled for reissue July 2018.




Something Different

The Three Graces Book Two

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.

Jackson and Jacob 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. 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?

Scheduled for reissue July 2018