ASH (GUARDED HEARTS BOOK 7)

Ash: Guarded Hearts Book 7

by Claire Marta and Nia Farrell

Length: 112,488 words

Cover Design by Crystal Visions. Cover Reveal Feb 1, 2021.

Release Date, Mar 7, 2021. Blogger signup

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On the run from her mobster stepfather, Ashlee Gabrielli knows to trust no one. When Ash stumbles through the gates of the Citadel looking for a place to hide, she has no idea the men here are shifters.

Tobias Santini is the leader of The Order of the Phoenix. The cadre’s superior has guided his men and protected their women since the first fated mate was found. With everyone else in relationships, Tobias remains alone, serving as guardian to them all.

When he discovers Ash hiding in the garden, everything changes. She’s the image of a woman he loved and lost a lifetime ago, and she’s in trouble. Taking her under his wing, Tobias vows to protect her—even from himself when attraction sparks between them.

Ash is inexplicably drawn to the silver fox superior. Eventually, he reveals their past life connection, but he’s still keeping secrets. She has one, too, possessing a dangerous gift that no one foresees. With forces unfolding their insidious plans and a final showdown brewing, the men of the Citadel will need every ally they have to survive the wrath of the vampire Etienne. Yet even that might not be enough this time.

This epic Season One finale has BDSM, consensual power exchange, dark themes, and potential triggers, including a history of child abuse. The first DD/lg book of the series is written for Ages 18+.

Guarded Hearts Season One features The Order of the Phoenix. Season Two will feature members of The Order of the Dragon, Hell’s Fury MC, who appear as secondary characters in Season One. Hell’s Fury MC: Dangerous Curves (Guarded Hearts Book 7.5/Season Two Prequel) debuts in the Twisted Steel 2 MC Anthology out 13 April 2021.

EXCERPT 1 (PG):

<p class="has-text-align-justify" value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80"><strong>Tobias stared at the angel before him. Skin still flushed from her bath, she was a vision of beauty and so startlingly like his Francesca, he almost forgot she wasn’t.</strong>Tobias stared at the angel before him. Skin still flushed from her bath, she was a vision of beauty and so startlingly like his Francesca, he almost forgot she wasn’t.

“What?” Ash questioned, looking at him like he’d gone mad.

Catching himself, he realized he’d been staring like a besotted fool. Moonstruck by this enigmatic young woman.

Tobias cleared his throat. “Forgive me, I should have set out a brush and comb for you to use.” Ash still had questions to answer and could easily be a threat to his home if she was working for their enemies. Showing her kindness was one way of putting her at ease.

Ash shrugged a slim shoulder. “I used a bunch of other stuff, but it would be nice to brush my hair before we eat.”

Tearing himself away, Tobias quickly fetched the items and brought them back to her. When she reached to take them, he could smell the subtle scent of his favorite soap on her hair and skin. Why it pleased him, he wasn’t sure. He was desperate to know why she looked so much like the one woman who had meant so much to him, one he’d lost centuries ago. Coincidence? Or was something darker and more nefarious at play?

He watched her turn, quickly returning to the bathroom to brush her locks and bring order to the messy blonde mop.

He had planned to work on the carousel phoenix today but he didn’t dare leave her alone. One unguarded moment and she might disappear as quickly as smoke. Remembering the way the air had rippled around him when he’d caught her by the wall, he frowned. He needed to know who she was…, what she was, and what powers she possessed.

Perhaps it was time to call Father Xavier over for a visit. The priest was the acting head of the Guardians of the Sacred Light cell in the city. Although the secret organization had no real love for supernaturals, Xavier had many he called friends. If anyone would know what this woman was, it would be him. Tobias wondered if she was some kind of changeling or shapeshifter. That would explain why she had Francesca’s face. Perhaps she had picked up his thoughts which had been so heavy with the past lately and used an image from his memories.

“Ready.”

The sound of her voice dragged him from his musings. Standing before him, she stared up at him, her expression a mix of innocence and nervousness. Tobias remembered her earlier fear when he’d grappled her to the ground and felt a surge of protectiveness toward this female who had come so unexpectedly under his care.

Whether she was his prisoner or his ward remained to be seen.

EXCERPT 2 (NSFW):

“Hey,” Tobias whispered. “We don’t have to do this.”

Ash straightened her spine. “Yes, we do. You know we do.”

Her virginity might have been stolen from her by the monster she’d lived with, but to Ash, this would be her first time. The one she would always remember. She’d chosen Tobias to give her the memory of what it should have been like. Something to treasure. The first man she’d truly been attracted to. Her choice. No one else’s.

Ash knew she’d made the right decision from the way he kept talking to her. If she said stop, she knew in her heart he would.

Walking on her knees, she straddled his head and let the calloused hands on her hips guide her into place. She curled her fingers around the top of his headboard and hung on for the ride.

He licked her, a sinful stroke of his tongue that made her want to grind herself on his face and use it to get herself off like she’d used his fingers. He licked her again, shifted her, angled his head, and started fucking her with his tongue. Her small breasts swung with the motion, pelvis rocking against his hungry mouth. He feasted on her like a starving man before finding her clit and letting his finger fill the void he’d left behind.

A familiar tension built, holding her in its grip, refusing to let her go but not letting her find completion, either. She whimpered, feeling desperate and needy.

Hearing her, Tobias gave her clit one last lick, fastened his lips over it, and sucked it into his mouth. Working a second finger into her pussy, he banged her with his fingers, curled them, and drove her over the edge.

She’d never come so hard in her life. Juices shot out, wetting his face. Her spasming walls milked his hand, tightening around his digits like a Chinese finger trap.

“Sorry,” she apologized when he tried to pull out and her muscles clenched that much harder. “I guess my pussy doesn’t want to let you go.”

Embarrassed, she couldn’t meet his gaze. This was so different than what she’d experienced in the past. Better but at the same time she felt awkward and unsure. Tobias was older than she was. He wasn’t quite human but he had confidence that assured her he’d done things like this before. Ash pushed aside the twinge of jealousy. Tonight was her night. She wasn’t going to let thoughts of his other lovers spoil it.

He didn’t let that deter him. Instead, he started teasing her clit, toggling it with his tongue, drawing designs on it that helped her to open up to him. He fucked her with two fingers and worked in a third, jacking his hand in short forays that grew in strength and speed. When she was on the verge of coming again, he fucking lifted her by the waist, sat up with her, and lowered her onto his cock.

Or tried to.

Four fingers might have been enough to stretch her out.

“Breathe, babygirl,” he murmured. “Take hold of me if you need to. Part your lips with the tip and find your opening and guide me in. Just like that. Christ.”

Thank goodness she was slick. It was all she could do to wedge the head of his erection inside her and slowly sink down onto it, inch by incredible inch. The man was huge. Huge. Her god of the forge was hung like a horse. It took forever to work her way down, rocking against him, gaining ground with every push.

She winced when he hit bottom.

“Ssh,” he crooned. “Just hold still. Let your body adjust. Don’t try to rush it. Everything will come in time.”

He started whispering lovetalk in an odd mix of Italian and Latin, telling her how beautiful she was, how brave she was, how lucky he was to have found her. Ash took it as all the things she imagined a man was supposed to say during sex. Not the insults and threats she’d endured at the hands of her stepfather.

But Tobias kept on, vowing to protect her, to cherish her. She knew this was different when he bent his head and kissed her breast and confessed he couldn’t wait to see their baby there.

Men didn’t talk babies. Not like he was talking.

She realized then that he wasn’t wearing a condom.

Oh, God. What was she thinking?

“It’s a bit soon for that, don’t you think?” she asked him nervously. 

Tobias jerked back his head, shocked that she knew what he’d been saying.

“You’re not wearing a rubber,” she reminded him. “Promise me you won’t get me pregnant. I’m too young for that. I want to live a little before I think about having kids. Jesus, I’m barely more than a kid myself.”

Guilt washed over his features. “I don’t have condoms,” he confessed. “I haven’t needed them.”

What?

He didn’t have lovers or hookups or whatever? How could that possibly be as good looking and fit as he was?

“You’re going to buy some,” she ordered. “If we’re going to keep doing this, I’m not taking chances. Meanwhile, can you control yourself enough to pull out to finish? I don’t care where, just as long as it’s not inside me.”

Flexing his hips and driving up into her, he wove his fingers into her hair and pressed their foreheads together, holding her close while they shared each labored breath. “I do. I can. I will,” he swore.

“Okay, then. I’m trusting you to take care of me.”

“Always.”

SECRET SANTA

SS Secret Santa 6x9 sm

 

SECRET SANTA

(MADE IN RUSSIA BOOK 1)

by Nia Farrell

Length 9,323 words. Release Date December 27, 2018. FREE with KU.

Amazon Universal Link e-book     Amazon US e-book     Goodreads reviews

 

It’s hard being a spy.

Katya Dostoevsky is a “little” and the young, submissive mistress of a Russian mobster.  Posing as a mercenary, Simon Tolliver is a forty-five-year-old British operative who’s been ordered to kill her.

Neither of them is what they seem.

Sold by human traffickers at the age of 14, Katya has endured eleven years of forced consent, serving the needs of Alexei Papanov, head of the Bratva in upstate New York.  She thinks that Simon is taking her toy shopping ahead of Christmas, but he’s been instructed to kill her en route.  After what she has suffered, he plans to be her Secret Santa and give her the quick, clean death that she deserves.

It was supposed to be his last night on his last mission before retiring.  Instead, this British spy with a gun and a girl on the run embark on a dark, thrilling ride that can only end one way.

Nia Farrell’s way.  Yippee ki-yay.

Contains guns, an ambush, a car chase, a kamikaze deer, and bad guys after flawed but endearing characters who would love peace on earth but find themselves looking over their shoulders and loading another clip.  Mandatory bedroom scene included.  Have a cold drink on hand.  Obviously written for Ages 18+.

 

Excerpt:

Simon followed Papanov upstairs, past three armed guards and a half-dozen rooms.  Stopping short of his private office, the Bratva kingpin opened a door and stepped inside, motioning for Simon to follow.

The room was decorated like a little girl’s dream with a fairytale four-poster bed, an ice cream parlor table and chairs, and an antique baby carriage full of dolls and stuffed toys.  An ornate desk sat in front of a bank of curtained windows.  Light from the crystal chandelier added to the soft glow from the computer screen of the laptop perched on the thighs of Papanov’s much-younger mistress.

Simon’s cock twitched at the sight of the pretty brunette.  Dressed only in a black bra and panties and red fuck-me heels, she sat on an office chair with her face lit and her gaze locked on the screen, oblivious to their presence.

Simon felt like a dirty old man for wishing he could stand there and watch her.  He was a spy.  He should be focused on Alexei.  Instead, he looked at the exquisite turn of Katya’s ankles and imagined them around his neck.

Katya Dostoevsky was twenty-five years old, five feet, three inches, a former gymnast, and an obedient servant to the whims of her master.  Sold by her father to Papanov when she was fourteen, she’d grown into a stunning young woman.

Too bad Alexei didn’t share.

Or did he?

“You remember Katya.”  His inflection made it a statement rather than a question.

Two sets of eyes darted to Alexei—hers alarmed and his wary.  What was Papanov’s game?

Simon schooled his features.  “Yes.”

“Myshka, you remember Mr. McCartney?”

She jerked her head in a stiff little nod.  “Da.”

She was careful to not look at Simon when she answered.  She knew Peter McCartney’s reputation, but she hadn’t really seen what he was capable of.  She’d only witnessed a clean kill.

Alexei had backhanded her, busting her lip when she wouldn’t stop crying.

Papanov nodded.  “Khorosho.  Good.  Myshka, I want you to pack a suitcase.  Take enough to last you a week.  Christmas is coming, and my mouseling wants her favorite bear fixed.  I say it is time for new ones if the old ones fall apart when you ride them.  Mr. McCartney will drive you to the apartment in Manhattan.  I will finish things here and meet you there.  Then we shop, da?”

Interesting.  Katya masturbated with teddy bears.  Knowing Alexei, he jacked off to the show and made her play the virgin to deflower as an encore.

Simon didn’t miss the look of dismay or the slight tremor that shook her shapely frame.  She swallowed the objection on the tip of her tongue and answered meekly, “Da, Papi.”

Alexei’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “That’s my good girl.  Set your luggage by the hallway door when you have it packed.  I want you downstairs and ready to leave in twenty minutes.  Come, Peter.”

Katya flew into action, kicking off her heels and sprinting to her closet.  Simon followed Papanov to his office one door over.  Katya’s room had been chosen for the Pakhan’s convenience.  When Alexei got an itch, he wanted it scratched immediately.  His personal sex slave was on call around the clock, anytime, day or night, in public or in private.

Alexei thought nothing of ordering Katya to please him while he entertained guests.  Humiliating her only added to his pleasure.

“Close the door.”

Simon did as ordered, questions writhing like Medusa’s snakes in his head.  He was pissed.  Alexei should have asked him first.  Instead, he’d told him in front of Katya.  Now Simon was stuck driving her down to the city.  He’d spend hours on the road and in traffic, closed in a car with a woman he wanted and could never have—

Unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life as a eunuch.

The last man who’d touched her without permission had his balls cut off and shoved up his arse.  Simon hadn’t seen it, but he’d heard the story, now shared as a cautionary tale.

“Sit.”  Alexei pointed to the closest chair.  Simon took it.  Papanov did the same, settling into place behind a heavy wooden desk.

They stared at each other, a pissing contest that lasted all of fifteen seconds.

“What the fuck?” Simon growled.  This was supposed to be his last night as a spy.  The final time he’d risk life and limb for his Queen and country.  His goal in recent years was to be the exception to the rule.  He knew when he left the SAS and joined the Secret Intelligence Service that spies didn’t live long and prosper.  Retirement from MI6 was a three-by-eight piece of land and a bed six feet under, not a secret, off-the-grid cabin in the Great North Woods with a prepper’s pantry, a growing library of first editions, and an arsenal that had taken half of his life to amass.

His trip to Canada would have to wait.

Alexei let his mask drop for a moment so brief, Simon almost missed it.  Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

The head of the Bratva in upstate New York looked out the bank of bullet-proof windows.  The clouds obscuring tonight’s full moon did nothing to dilute its effects.  Driving Katya to Manhattan was lunacy.

He told Alexei so.

Papanov sighed heavily.  “You are right,” he said, sounding weary and oddly torn.  “You will not go there.  When you leave here, you take her somewhere… and kill her.”  He huffed a breath and tapped his fingers on his desk.  “I do not need to know details.  Send word when it is done.”

Holy fuck.

It was a bloody miracle that Simon managed to look like he didn’t care, that this was just another assignment, no different than the other jobs that he’d done for Papanov.  But the men and women he’d killed before had earned it.  They were criminals.  Rivals.  Chechen Mafia.  Albanian Mafia.  Hell, he’d even killed someone from the Visconti crime family who had somehow given offense.

Alexei narrowed his eyes.  “You will do this, da?”

“Of course, I will.  I just—”

“You wish to know.”  Papanov pursed his lips, considering the wisdom in telling him.  He rarely bothered with explanations unless his blood pressure was up and he needed to vent.

“She is… too soft for this,” he said, waving an imperious hand.  “It was… mistake to bring her here.”

Papanov had had her since she was fourteen.  He’d gotten bored or annoyed or both.  Clearly, he didn’t like her asking to fix her broken bears.  After nine years of statutory rape and forced consent, he was discarding Katya as casually as a toy that he’d outgrown.  The trouble was, he couldn’t pass his plaything down, and he didn’t dare release her.  His mouseling was a liability.  She knew too much.  She’d seen too much for him to ever let her go.

 

 

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