Audience: NA – Genre: Tragic Romance – Formats: E-book and Paperback – Publisher: Xunaira J. -Editor: Michelle Browne – Date of Published: 20th November 2014
His eyes told her what his tongue could not.
Nineteen-year-old Onaiza Shahid is a loner and a dreamer, bookish and socially isolated. A chance ramble into chatting software changes everything. The words of a stranger compel her. Addicted and falling fast, their secret love changes her life. But will the idealistic teenager get her happily ever after?
As a thirteen year old teenager, Xunaira J. aspired to be an author someday. From short stories to novellas, she has written them all but as an adult now, she has published two short stories and is now aiming to publish her first Novel, Before Time, scheduled for November release. Xunaira resides in Islamabad, Pakistan and enjoys a hot cup of cappuccino, a good romance novel and her favorite music from the 80’s. Apart from that, when she’s not working on her current literary project, she loves developing mobile applications and studies as a software engineer.
TITLE – Before Time
SERIES – The Time Series
AUTHOR – Xunaira J.
GENRE – New Adult / Tragic Romance
PUBLICATION DATE – 22nd November 2014
PUBLISHER – Amazon
BOOK SYNOPSIS
His eyes told her what his tongue could not.
Nineteen-year-old Onaiza Shahid is a loner and a dreamer, bookish and socially isolated. A chance ramble into a chatting software changes everything. The words of a stranger compel her. Addicted and falling fast, their secret love changes her life. But will the idealistic teenager get her happily ever after?
As a thirteen year old teenager, Xunaira J. aspired to be an author someday. From short stories to novellas, she has written them all but as an adult now, she has published two short stories and is now aiming to publish her first Novel, Before Time, scheduled for November release. Xunaira resides in Islamabad, Pakistan and enjoys a hot cup of cappuccino, a good romance novel and her favorite music from the 80’s. Apart from that, when she’s not working on her current literary project, she loves developing mobile applications and studies as a software engineer.
A boxed set of seven romantic novellas by seven award-winning authors experienced with writing about the men of the West.
Always, Cowboy by Allison Merritt
Blurb
The past is better left behind, unless it offers a brighter future.
Brody Longtree’s first love was bull riding, but he loved beauty queen Libby Dempsey equally as hard. When she turned down his marriage proposal, everything from his rodeo career to his love life went to hell. His love ran too deep for blame, so he made the best of what life threw at him. Things finally get back on track…and then she almost runs over his dog.
When her pageant dreams died in an embarrassing display of nerves, Libby made a new, cowboy-free life for herself. One where she could train other girls who want to be pageant princesses. One that doesn’t give her any reason to dwell on what might have been with Brody until his dog bounds into her heart. And she bounds into Brody’s bed.
Despite the differences in their lives, they mesh together, the way Brody always knew they would. No matter what, he’s waiting until he’s certain Libby is ready to get married before he asks again, but their relationship comes under fire when one of her friends reveals a secret about a little girl Libby is awfully attached to—a girl who’s the right age to be Brody’s daughter.
Excerpt
Under that snap front western shirt, did he still sport six-pack abs? She couldn’t count the number of times she’d helped him out of a similar shirt and put ice on his bruises after a ride. Or how often they’d parked at the lake and explored one another under the stars.
“Hot?” Brody asked.
“What?”
“You’re flushed. We could go sit in the stands, maybe catch a breeze.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Can I ask you something, Lib?” Brody rose. His dark eyes were serious and a few lines bracketed his mouth. “Why’d you come tonight?”
Libby swallowed hard. “You asked me.”
“Really?”
“I only live an hour away and I didn’t have anything else to do tonight.” Tell him you miss him.
“You used to be more honest.” He slipped his hand around her wrist. “You missed me.”
“I—” Electricity buzzed through her from his touch. “Maybe a little.”
“Maybe a lot.” He pulled her into his arms. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
About Allison Merritt
A love of reading inspired Allison Merritt to pursue her dream of becoming an author who writes historical, paranormal and fantasy romances, often combining the sub-genres. She lives in a small town in the Ozark Mountains with her husband and dogs. When she’s not writing or reading, she hikes in national parks and conservation areas.
Allison graduated from College of the Ozarks in Point Lookout, Missouri with a B.A. in mass communications that’s gathering dust after it was determined that she’s better at writing fluff than hard news.
A broken cowboy with nothing left to lose…except his heart.
Dash Connaway is hell-bent down a highway to nowhere. But he can’t outrun fate. Just a few months ago, he’d had a new album shooting up the country music charts, a luxury tour bus prepped for gigs in 39 cities, and a live-in girl friend he’d been thinking of asking to marry him. Now he’s just another drifter with an old guitar, a beat-up pickup, and a dog named Bill for a bed mate…until he meets Maggie McCain.
Maggie isn’t your ordinary Oregon rancher. She’s more into organic gardening and hand-spinning yarn from the fleece of her prized alpacas than breeding stinky old cattle. She’s a nurturer, a giver, so when Dash steps into her life from nowhere, she’s ready to trade in her solitary existence on the farm in favor of a husband to grow old with and a passel of children to care for.
But when she learns the real reason for Dash’s commitment to life on the road, she’s faced with a difficult choice and a lesson in the fallacy behind the old saying “Cowboys don’t cry.” Only time will tell just how potent the healing power of love can really be.
Excerpt
“It’s a girl,” he pronounced cradling the newborn alpaca in his arms.
The woman wiped her grimy chin with the back of her grimier hand. Tears tracked through the dirt on her cheeks. “You did it.” She pushed to her feet, but her legs looked none too steady. She picked up the rifle and leaned on it like a crutch.
Dash went to her, ready to catch her if she fell. “We did it,” he corrected.
“Yes, we did.”
He smiled and reached out to her free arm. It was meant to be a celebratory brush, a comfort…but it lingered a moment too long. The air changed.
Without warning, she swung her rifle up and rested the barrel against his chest. “Now who the hell are you, and what are you doing on my land?”
About Vickie Taylor
Vickie Taylor published her first book in 1999 and quickly rose to the ranks of national best-selling and award-winning author. She enjoys all types of books, but especially paranormal, suspense, and western contemporary with the unifying theme being romance. Vickie always enjoys a good love story. She is the author of sixteen published novels and is a four-time nominee for the Oscar of the romance world, the Romance Writers of America Rita award. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s usually out riding horses, training search and rescue dogs, or volunteering with her local humane society. She is an avid supporter of the campaign to preserve America’s wild horses, and her latest release, Cowboys Don’t Cry is the first book in a new series featuring her beloved mustangs. Sign up for her newsletter to be notified when the next book in the series, The Horseman’s Widow, coming October, 2014, is available. Vickie loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via the methods below:
Website (where you can also sign up for her newsletter announcing new releases.) | Facebook | Twitter
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A Cowboy’s Heartby Leslie Garcia
Blurb
Teenage lovers torn apart by betrayal. Have seventeen years changed everything—or nothing?
Star-crossed lovers in their south Texas hill country high school, torn apart by a best friend’s lie, a mother’s cold hatred, and a father’s lack of trust…
High school junior Illy Kingston turns to varsity football star and cowboy in training Gil Salas when her father, a Border Patrol agent, is killed under suspicious circumstances.
Their hormone-fueled, all or nothing affair ends when betrayal tears them apart.
Years, later, Illy returns home, at loose ends after her disastrous marriage to a reality show rock star ends with an embarrassing photo gone viral and a divorce.
When Gil and his mounted Border Patrol make an unannounced civic call at a local elementary school, Gil is shocked to see Illy lurking in the shadows, threatening to upend his existence once again.
The old passion still burns—but neither can go back to the innocence of their high school affair. Illy swore never to love a man wearing a uniform that didn’t involve jeans, a western hat, and boots. Gil has a price on his head.
And star-crossed love doesn’t usually work for cowboys, either.
Excerpt
He stopped abruptly. Illy had told him to stop, and he hadn’t thought she meant it. The memory of her reacting to him, caressing him, wanting him, stormed back. And then, when Emma called, she’d turned off and fled in a fury.
Did she think he’d seen the picture? He’d seen it online, like the entire world had, according to all the social media. What if she thought he was just acting out what he’d seen? No matter how much the photo enraged and sickened him, he could only imagine her horror that her marriage was over, but that episode never would be.
Did she feel strange at all, being in his arms after that very public display with her ex-husband? His heart thudded dully. She must know he’d seen the picture, but what would it do to her if she knew the truth?
He closed his eyes. She was out of his life, and that was best for him. Because truth be told, he didn’t know if he could take her again and not remember the second most painful night of his life. The night he’d happened on Illy making love to her rock-star husband in public.
About Leslie Garcia
Leslie P. García grew up lost among a crowd of six siblings and a menagerie that included more than twenty horses and ponies, uncounted dogs and cats, possums, raccoons—even a lion and monkeys. Then she moved to Texas, fell in love, was disowned—and embarked on her real adventures, raising 4 children, teaching hundreds, and loving 9 grandkids through forty years of marriage. The fabric of that colorful life has always been writing. In A Cowboy Heart, Leslie celebrates two of her passions—cowboys and the ever present chance at redemption in spite of past mistakes. Leslie loves hearing from readers and can be found all over cyber space, including these places:
Can two people, one horse and the power of love cure a little girl?
Angela French blames herself for her daughter’s lack of voice. Determined to do anything to correct the situation, she seeks out Jake Kyncade, the owner of The Heartsong Ranch.
Jake Kyncade hides his own sorrows behind his no-nonsense demeanor. Helping children becomes one way to correct his past. Using equine therapy, he sets out to make a difference.
Can Jake help Angela’s dreams come true or will Jake’s past bring more heartache? Will love save them all?
Excerpt
With Taylor asleep on the couch, Angela snuck the magazine out of her daughter’s sleeping hands before carrying her to her bed. After making sure her baby was tucked in, she turned out the lights and went to the kitchen. She sat down at the table to study the article about the horse whisperer. The photos gave off a peaceful feeling—so much so, she longed to jump into the images. Along with the horses, there were shots of children laughing and petting the animals. The article mentioned a little boy with Down’s Syndrome whose language increased after a week of animal therapy. The Heartsong Ranch. Even the name sounds encouraging. Dare I get my hopes up?
One photo in particular captured her attention. The owner, Jake Kyncade, wore jeans and a cowboy hat as he stood next to the ranch sign. She took a deep breath as butterflies circled in her abdomen. He’s sexy. Very different from Mike. Mr. Kyncade has this wounded look in his eyes. I wonder what his trauma was. I’ve gotten better at noticing it in others. Still, he’s good looking. Probably married with his own children.
About Melissa Keir
Melissa Keir has always wanted to be an author when she wasn’t hoping for a career as a race car driver. Her love of books was instilled by her mother and grandparents who were avid readers. She’d often sneak books away from them so that she could fantasize about those strong alpha males and plucky heroines. In middle school and high school, Melissa used to write sappy love poems and shared them with her friends and still has those poems today! In college her writing changed to sarcastic musings on life as well as poems with a modern twist on fairy tales and won awards for her writing. You can find many of these musings along with her latest releases on her website and blog.
As a writer, Melissa likes to keep current on topics of interest in the world of writing. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America, Mid-Michigan RWA Chapter, and EPIC. She is always interested in improving her writing through classes and seminars.
Melissa doesn’t believe in down time. She’s always keeping busy. Melissa is a wife and mother, an elementary school teacher, a movie reviewer, an owner of a publishing company as well as an author. Her home blends two families and is a lot like the Brady Bunch, without Alice- a large grocery bill, tons of dirty dishes and a mound of laundry. She loves to write stories that feature happy endings and is often seen plotting her next story.
She’s decided to make some bad choices this weekend.
Susie Howell has always done what her family expects of her, but they don’t know about the divorce papers she’s just signed, or the secret torch she carries for sexy ranch hand Cash. When keeping the secret gets to her, she flees her brother’s wedding reception. Determined to live a little, she swipes the nearest truck from the ranch and heads to Sin City.
Cash Acosta has worked hard for everything he has, and nobody is taking off with his truck. When he sees it driving away, he jumps in—and becomes the unwilling passenger of a ready and willing woman he’s forbidden to touch. Hell-bent for trouble, the boss’s sister has already earmarked him as one of her “bad choices”.
And Susie intends to get what she wants.
Excerpt
“So that’s why you’re runnin’.” Under the parking lot lights, his eyes were pitch black. He thumbed a tear from her cheek.
She tried for a more ladylike sniffle, blinked away her tears. Nodded, for lack of a better reply.
“When I hear a beautiful woman wants to make some mistakes, my gut instinct is to help her out with that.” His thumb brushed her lower lip. “Hearin’ she’s single…that’s another checkmark in the pros column.” Hypnotized, she barely breathed as he cupped her jaw in his fingers and that gaze riveted on hers. “Seein’ her cry? What choice do I have?” He bent to her, his lips hot and strong, skilled as they teased hers apart, his tongue waking feelings she’d forgotten. And Lord, it may be too soon, it may be wrong, but she wanted. Wanted Cash, his hands, his mouth, his… She grabbed onto his hard shoulders, slipped her hands up his neck, buried her fingers in that thatch of hair. And kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Of course there was. Sexy, brooding, womanizing Cash wanted her, and he’d be hers, at least for this trip.
About Autumn Piper
Born and raised in itty-bitty Rifle, Colorado, Autumn Piper studiously avoided trouble…but is now inclined toward it, particularly in her novels. She thinks the best things in life are funny, and the runners-up, romantic.
An admitted carb addict, Autumn writes, edits, manages two teenagers, two cats, a box turtle with a huge personality, one husband and many supersize houseplants, and does the cooking and cleaning when forced to.
He’s running from heartbreak. She’s chasing after love… Their hearts will never be the same.
Paige Morgan has lived her entire life in the glare of her fraternal twin sister’s star. Although the sisters are as different as sun is from the moon, Paige fell in love with the same man as her famous swimsuit model sister. When country superstar Chase Jordan is dumped at the altar by her twin, Paige sees an opportunity to go after the one thing of her sister’s she’s always wanted. She finds Chase in Cabo San Lucas nursing his broken heart in the true country song fashion—with a bottle of Jose Cuervo—and reminds him of the desire he once felt for her. Will this singing cowboy change his tune as they set the tropical nights on fire? Or will Paige be the one singing the blues when her sister shows up wanting her man back?
Excerpt
All of his hopes and dreams shattered on what should have been the happiest day of his life. Today, instead of settling in for their two-week vacation and only getting out of bed to eat, he was nursing a bottle of Jose Cuervo. Why had he come here? His brother was right; he could have easily eaten the cost of the trip. Chase had insisted that he had to escape for a little while, lick his wounds and come up with a plan before he had to go back on tour in a few weeks. Jack accused him of wanting to punish himself. Why else would he go to the place he and Kayla were to have their honeymoon? Had he come here to remind himself of what should have been? He shook his head, hoping to dislodge the thoughts, and turned to gaze out the other side of the bar.
A woman stood on the walkway staring at him through a pair of Aviators. Her long blonde ponytail shimmered in the sun like spun gold. He narrowed his eyes. Was he now hallucinating?
She entered the bar and headed toward him. Sitting on the stool beside him, she removed her sunglasses to reveal a pair of expressive hazel eyes. “Surprise.”
“Paige? What the hell are you doing here?”
About Sara Walter Ellwood
Although Sara Walter Ellwood has long ago left the farm for the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have two teenagers and one very spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in Pennsylvania suburbia. Sara Walter Ellwood is a multi-published author and publishes paranormal romantic suspense under the pen name Cera duBois.
Photographer Alannah Murphy refuses to be tied down. She watched her parents struggle to hold onto their dairy farm until it killed them. The mere thought of the same fate makes her shudder. When she meets rancher Sterling Gentry she has to face her fears, or lose him.
Sterling Gentry longs for someone to hand his ranch down to. Like his father before him, he has sacrificed everything to hold onto the land his ancestors settled. But finding Ms. Right proves harder than he imagined. Then he meets Alannah Murphy with her big city ways. How he can ever take a chance with a woman exactly like his mother, who abandoned him when he was a child?
Despite their determination to stay the course they’ve each chosen, attraction pulls them together as steadily as a nail to a magnet. Can these two find a way to mesh Alannah’s need for freedom and Gentry’s desire to hold onto his land?
Excerpt
Still snapping photos, the woman approached him. When she came within speaking distance, she waved. “Hello.”
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in the middle of the road? Don’t you know better than to stand in the way when somebody’s herding stock?”
Her mouth opened and closed a couple times. “I didn’t think—”
“Hell no, you didn’t think,” Gentry shouted. “Damn it anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “The shot was just so good…”
The shot? She’d ruined hours upon hours of exhausting work because she’d wanted a picture? Who the hell would do something so stupid?
Only a damn greenhorn.
For the first time he noticed her get-up. A straw hat only a city girl would wear, floaty pink top with tiny straps that left her bare shoulders exposed to the unforgiving Arizona sun, cut-off jean shorts and red cowboy boots. Daisy Duke personified. He shook his head in disgust.
Reality crashed over him.
The New York photographer his mother had enticed out here, hoping an article in The Cowboy magazine would bring attention to the Santa Gertrudis cattle they raised.
Damn.
About D’Ann Lindun
Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there’s just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!
D’Ann loves to hear from readers! Please contact her at:
Many a dream can be realised with a little forethought. The characters in this quartet of stories are intelligent, sensitive and literary. They are also supremely voyeuristic and open-minded. Their intelligence is counterbalanced by inhibitions, which they can only lose by premeditated seduction scenarios, which relate intimately to their professional, creative and cultural lives. The great effort each couple puts into arranging a scenario seems to enhance the quality of the experience. A great source of inspiration for this and other works has been the novel The Girl Beneath the Lion by André Pieyre de Mandiargues.
Seductive Semaphore: Fashion Designer Bethesda and journalist Hector live opposite each other, with windows facing. They make initial contact through visible, provocative gestures. Soon afterwards, they get direct contact when Hector assists Bethesda with her folio. She invites him round to model for some of her fashion creations, and proceeds to seduce him. The seduction continues with a ritual visit to a sports centre, and then to a beach. They leave it open as to whether their relationship could ever become long-term.
The Heroine and the Author: Dreamer Hecate discovers she has a terminal illness. She wants to make the most of the time she has left by being celebrated in literature as a charismatic, legendary figure. She meets Ferdinand, a ghost writer, who is happy to undertake this massive project with her. In the process, She gets an idea of his physique through jogging and the fitness centre. Then there is a seduction scene inspired by the literary models of Sappho and Donne. Being ‘open-minded’, they make a pact for each one to go and have a sexual adventure – his hetero, hers lesbian. Their relationship is enhanced by this extra dimension.
Dreamtime Sensuality: Romona, highly literary and highly inhibited, goes to an exotic island location. She deeply desires a passionate encounter. At the Pension where she stays, she meets Stefano, who fulfils her requirements exactly. The proprietress of the Pension picks up on Romona’s shyness, and gives her reassurance, including some practice in the art of kissing. Romona orchestrates an elaborate beach seduction scenario, and they are both fulfilled. They never meet again, but their exchange of emails and text messages goes on indefinitely.
Dancing with Danger: Verona is a Scriptwriter and Gareth an archaeologist. They both have ‘retreats’ near the coast, and discover their common interests. Verona contrives a half-seduction on a deserted beach, wearing 18th century retro gear – related to their common interests. After some further encounters, they give each other a ‘dare’ to go and have a really risky encounter with someone really dodgy. Gareth finds a young woman on the run. Verona has a rapturous encounter with someone who gets hauled in by the police, suspected of terrorism. She uses her charm on the interrogating police officer to extricate herself. So Verona and Gareth both meet up again, to tell their respective tales.
EXCERPT
Hecate read some verses of Sappho, which she felt totally appropriate to his slender grace, so nearly androgynous. She quoted a phrase demanding his fixed, concentrated stare into her eyes. The eye contact was clinched Hecate’s introduction was a quote from her.
Ferdinand responded to the prompt; he knew what he had to do—gradually, at intervals, he removed his garments one by one as she breathily read the hypnotic, seductive phrases.
His garments came off with ease and grace, he obviously had some long-repressed desire to do this. At last, he stood before her, beautiful, naked, and slender. Somehow, his spirit prevailed over his earlier reticence, he shed his shyness with his clothing. Since she saw him in trunks, Hecate anticipated this moment with such relish. If the pool had been empty when they were there, she would have taken them off there, or in the shower. Perhaps something could happen, or even be premeditated in the future, on a deserted beach, secluded amid the dunes.
She handed him a volume of the collected poems of John Donne. “Now, I think you know which one I want you to read me. Hmm…while we’ve been working together, I bet you’ve had some reveries of me undressing, you undressing me.”
“I have to admit that is so and I know which poem you mean, it’s Elegy Nineteen—To His Mistress Going to Bed.
“We really are on the same wavelength darling. I had learned of that poem as a young girl, with a desperate desire one day to enact it. Every word of it struck home as I disrobed alone, for years I yearned for that lovely partner to give me those instructions live.”
Ferdinand beamed, then quoted from near the end of the poem referring to the poet’s nakedness at the beginning of the action. Then he proceeded to read, with his lovely, hypnotic voice.
He really made Hecate’s girdle feel like Saturn’s rings As she undid her sash and cast it down, she felt her abdomen was bathed in heavenly light, visible only to spiritual eyes.
The request to remove her ‘breastplate’ gave her an etheric shudder. Taking off the brooch at the top of her dress felt like casting away a shield, affirming that strife and combat had been replaced by love.
In response to the exhortation to unlace, she felt deliciously nervous as her fingers twitched on her zips and buttons.
As the gown went off following the next command, Hecate felt she had emerged from a perennial cocoon, that she was the sun liberated from the constricting veils of night.
As for a ‘coronet’, Hecate was only wearing a slide, but removing it certainly helped her locks flow freely.
It was great to feel liberated from footwear; earlier on her high heels had felt so sexy. But now her stockinged feet tingled with electric desire.
With her underwear, admittedly she found nylon, calico and silk sexier than linen, but the word, so sensually uttered, really relevant. (from The Heroine and the Author – Story 2)
About the Author
1940. Resident in the UK. Writer of poetry, literary criticism, speculative fiction and romance. Main poetry collection Prickling Counterpoints (1998); poems published in online International Times. Main speculative works High Wired On (2002); Rock Bottom (2005). Translation of Spanish epic La Araucana, Amazon 2013. Romances: Self’s Blossom; Explorations; Further Explorations; Therapy Rapture; Darlene, An Ecstatic Rendezvous (all pub Extasy (Devine Destinies). Singer-songwriter/guitarist. Main CD albums Bacteria Shrapnel and Kaleidoscope Concentrate. Many tracks on You Tube, under ‘Dave Russell’
The hunky young PhD knows all about seduction, but what does he know about love?
Reagan Cassidy is settled in her life. She has a thriving interior design firm, an upscale condo, two cats, and a goldfish. As a favor to her uncle, she agrees to team up with his marine archeologist friend to validate and retrieve a nineteenth-century journal, reputedly that of a passenger aboard the doomed schooner Twelfth Sun. Finding a hunky twenty-five-year-old coming out of the shower in her hotel room wasn’t part of the deal, but it’s hard to complain…
Dr. Elijah Cross is cocky and he knows it. He enjoys trading barbs with the lovely Reagan. Barbs, and some innuendo. He can tell she’d rather get back home to her business than stick around for the extended treasure hunt they’ve been talked into, but he’s fine with the situation. At least, until the “clues” start getting personal.
Reagan finds Dr. Gorgeous is as skilled in matters of the heart as he is behind the lectern. Throw in a series of clues which mean more to Elijah than he’ll explain, several odd-ball competitors out to win the journal, a saboteur, and a lavish seaside mansion, and Reagan has enough trouble keeping her head straight, let alone her heart.
WARNING: Younger man, older woman, nautical riddles and romance.
GIVEAWAY:Author is giving away 3 ebooks of Weathering Rock CLICK HERE to ENTER
EXCERPT
“My dad’s father was part gypsy. Besides, the sea is in my blood.” Elijah turned onto his side, locking his good leg over hers, holding her in place. Pushing up on one elbow, he stared down at her, abruptly serious. “Did you know a good marine archaeologist could spend his entire life studying a single wreck and never be bored? Never feel the need to move onto something else?” He stroked her cheek, brushing her hair aside. “That’s what I want to do with you, Reagan. I want to spend my days and nights learning about you. Everything about you. What you think. The way you smell…” He leaned forward, inhaling the light scent of the honeysuckle oil she’d used in her bath.
Ping! Warning claxons flared in her head. Elijah, playful and teasing she could control. Elijah, serious and romantic meant trouble.
“The way you feel.” His fingers tracked down her arm and hooked into the flimsy belt holding her robe shut. “The way you taste.” His mouth closed over hers at precisely the moment he tugged open her robe.
AUTHOR INFO
Mae Clair opened a Pandora’s Box of characters when she was a child and never looked back. Her father, an artist who tinkered with writing, encouraged her to create make-believe worlds by spinning tales of far-off places on summer nights beneath the stars. She snagged the tail of a comet, hitched a ride, and discovered her writer’s Muse on the journey. Mae loves creating character-driven fiction in settings that vary from contemporary to mythical. Wherever her pen takes her, she flavors her stories with conflict, romance and elements of mystery. Married to her high school sweetheart, she lives in Pennsylvania and is passionate about writing, old photographs, a good Maine lobster tail and cats. Discover more about Mae on her website and blog atwww.MaeClair.com
Sometimes the best remedy for cold feet is a red hot Texan.
About the Author
Kate Deveaux
Contemporary and Erotic Romance Author
ABOUT KATE: KATE DEVEAUX is a contemporary, erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. It was after reading Jane Eyre in high school, that she became hooked on the idea of writing about romance, excitement and drama. Kate has been penning stories, from the sensual to the sinfully sexy, ever since!
A former wedding planner, Kate has always been “in love” with love! She was inspired to transition from writing racy short stories to full length manuscripts after meeting other authors in the romance world at industry workshops, conferences and events. Now a multi published contemporary romance novelist, Kate is a member of Savvy Author, Romance Writers of America (RWA) as well as their erotic romance chapter, Passionate Ink. Born in London, England, Kate has lived in both the U.K. and the U.S. When she’s not busy writing or reading, Kate can be found on the tennis court—yes, there’s even “love” in that game too!
In one week Chloe will walk down the aisle. Yet she’s a bride who can’t stop spying on the weddings of total strangers. Desperate to catch a glimpse of what true love really looks like, she is having serious second thoughts about tying the knot.
Until she meets Wes — the sexy long lost father of her groom. The hunk from Texas confirms her worst fears. She is marrying the wrong man.
Battling her intense attraction for Wes, the flame between them burns too hot to resist. Chloe and Wes give into their scorching passion and struggle with the consequences of their love.
What’s Kate up to next?
Kate is busy completing several books for release 2014, each filled with sexy romance, heroines who are no shrinking violets, and heroes who make your heart skip a beat…
Coming soon in 2014….Platinum Pleasures and A Vixen in Venice
Barbara Kloss studied biochemistry at California Polytechnic State University, and after she began working in a clinical lab, found herself daydreaming about far off lands and slightly deranged wizards. She, her husband, baby boy, and Lhasa currently live in Arizona, where she escapes the summer heat by writing about lush vegetation and moderate to cold climates. Author of the Pandoran Novels, a YA fantasy series.
After Prince Alaric’s death, Daria and Alex set off in search of the legendary box of the Pandors’. The box is famed to hold a secret of power—one strong enough to overcome Lord Eris and the shield of power he stole from Valdon. Daria doesn’t know where the box is hidden, but she can’t ignore the silent urging, beckoning her to the land of Pendel—the land her mother, Aurora Pandor, was from.
Time is running out. Lord Eris’s army of shadowguard vastly outnumber Valdon’s forces, and if Daria doesn’t find the box in time, Valdon will need reinforcements from the other territories to survive. But those territories will not hand over their armies willingly, not without Daria’s hand in marriage.
And there is another, older power rising, one that hasn’t been seen in centuries—one thought lost since the days of Galahad: the dragons.
Excerpt Two:
Sal left, and Alex put one hand on my waist, took my hand in his, and led me into the next dance.
“Where have you been?” I hadn’t meant the words to sound accusatory, but they did.
Alex raised a dark brow, looking a little startled by my outburst. “Where I always am: keeping both eyes on you, and that seems to require a lot of energy these days.” His gaze trailed after Sal, who had already found another morsel to snack on in the form of one of Alex’s groupies.
“You said he’s a thane?” I asked.
Alex nodded, his gaze drifting back to mine. “He governs the land on the western shores. He is Mercedes’ nephew. He will be furious with me for cutting in like this, but I couldn’t help it. He looked like he was about to eat you alive.”
“How do you know I wasn’t about to eat him alive?” I teased. I tried pulling Alex closer, but he firmly held me back at an appropriate distance.
“Careful, your grace,” he said, eyes locked on mine.
He was setting the precedence for our conversation tonight. He was holding up barriers and urging me to stand behind them. He was reminding me that I was a princess and he was my guard, and that I had better act that way.
A new piece started, much slower than the others, and the melody had a kind of lilting and heartbreaking quality to it. I tried not to take it as any kind of symbolism. Still, the dancing slowed and couples moved closer. Even Alex pulled me close, sliding one arm around my waist, and I was distinctly aware of the warmth soaking through the fabric of his sleeve and onto my bare lower back.
“How are you feeling?” Alex asked. His expression was carefully stoic, but his eyes were layered in concern.
“Well, if you must know, I feel a little bit like a pinwheel. Much more twirling and I might just twirl myself right off the edge of this balcony.”
Alex grinned. “We don’t have to dance. I could escort you back to—”
“No.” I held him tighter, gazing defiantly into his eyes. “I missed my turn last time, and I’ve regretted it ever since. But I am a little surprised you’re allowing this…?”
“Allowing what, exactly, your grace?” Even behind his walls of formality, he made the words your grace sound like an expression of intimacy only lovers used.
“Us dancing together.”
“Ah.” He was so controlled and elegant. “I didn’t see any harm in it, considering I’m your Aegis and that you’ve already had your fair share of attention this evening.” There was a glint in his eyes that made me certain he’d heard Sal’s proposition.
“And I see that you’ve had yours.” I glanced askance at the group of girls watching us, clearly unhappy that I’d stolen their shiny new toy.
Alex followed my gaze then whispered, “It’s nice seeing you jealous.”
I let out something of a snort. “Well, I could just put an end to it by ordering you to dance with me the rest of the evening. I’m not so sure I want to share you.” I tried to move in a little closer, but Alex’s grip firmly held me back again.
“I’m sorry, your grace,” he said, his eyes glittering like emeralds, “but I would have to politely refuse those orders.”
Book 2:
Winter has fallen upon Valdon.
It’s been five months since Daria Regius arrived at the castle, and her grandfather, the king, has stripped her of all freedoms, building even more barriers around her lonely life.
But darkness moves. Rumors abound about a dark rider, sending ancient and unspeakable horrors to the territories, and the citizens of Gaia are filled with fear. And fear blurs the lines of loyalty and trust, honor and allegiance, and cultivates dissonance throughout the kingdom. The people are anxious for this year’s games, because this year, according to prophecy, selecting a champion means a true king can be chosen, and only once that true king is chosen can the people have any hopes of defeating the evil amassing around them.
Propelled by fear for those she loves, unexpected friendships, and harrowing betrayal, Daria must gain the courage to escape the barriers set around her life and confront the evil that threatens to destroy Gaia—before it finds her and takes her life first.
Book 1:
For centuries, the people of Gaia have kept their magical world a secret to protect Earth from themselves. But magic can’t save them from the evil they face within. The key to their salvation lies with eighteen-year old Daria Jones, a young girl from Earth with no magical ability at all.
Or so she thought.
Her father’s mysterious disappearance from their Fresno, California home sets a whirlwind of events in motion, and Daria soon learns where to find him. The only problem is that she’s learned this information from Alex—the guy she grew up with. The guy that was her very best friend until three years ago when he left without a trace. But now he’s back (and devastatingly handsome. Unfortunately.) And he’s claiming that her father has been taken to a magical world—a magical world Alex has been all this time. The same magical world she must go to in order to save her father.
Now Daria has to decide whether to stay away from the guy that betrayed her, or to trust him with helping her find her father. But if this evil finds her first, she won’t even get the choice.
This book contains strong language and sexual content and is intended for ages 17+.
Rob Kensington is just your typical high school senior. Athletic, intelligent, handsome. Sees a therapist once a week. Because his parents just died in a house fire of questionable origin. And he doesn’t seem to care.
Maybe he isn’t so typical.
Sara Marsh had no clue when she returned to live with her divorced father that the bedroom down the hall would be occupied by a stray with a major attitude problem. The last time she saw Rob, he was a brooding goth who could have passed as Marilyn Manson’s love child. But at some point during her three years away, Creepy Kensington managed to evolve into a sizzling hot star running back with smoldering hazel eyes.
The attraction is undeniable. The temptation is irresistible. And soon they’re sharing more than just an address. But with another life lost in a deliberately set blaze, Sara’s trust is faltering. Has she lost her heart to a serial arsonist? He’s already shown her the allure of playing with fire.
Startled, I floundered to cover my boobs while splashing water over the side of the tub and all across the floor in the process. “What the hell! What are you – get out of here!” I threw a loofah at him but in my haste I missed.
Ignoring my demand, Rob moseyed over to kneel beside the bathtub, propping his arms on the edge and smirking at my compromising position. There weren’t any bubbles left to hide under, so I quickly drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “What are you, deaf? I said get out!”
“I heard what you said.” To my amazement, he dipped his fingers in the water and swirled them around. “Water’s getting cold.”
“Then take your hand out of it!” I snapped, my cheeks flushing pink.
“I think we should let it out.” He reached underwater for the drain stopper, and his grin slowly spread as my eyes widened.
“Don’t you dare.”
“See…payback’s a bitch, now isn’t it?”
“Don’t touch that drain. I mean it.” To my horror, I felt an overwhelming urge to laugh and I pressed my lips together to suppress a smile. For some idiotic reason, whenever I get nervous I start giggling like a deranged person. I have no idea why. It’s very annoying, especially because it happens at the most inopportune moments.
“I thought we were playing You-Show-Me-Yours-And-I’ll-Show-You-Mine.” He lifted the edge of the stopper just enough to tease me, allowing a small amount of water to escape. “Well, you had your go and now it’s my turn.”
“I think you’ve had one too many beers!” That probably wasn’t even far from the truth. After all, I’d never seen him acting this cheeky before.
“Whoops. Oh my goodness – what do we have here?” He plucked the stopper completely out and held it up, just out of my reach. The water began to rush down the drain. To me it seemed to be disappearing ten times faster than usual.
“It’s not funny!” I protested, even though I was struggling not to giggle at that point. My shoulders were shaking.
“I’m not the one laughing,” he reminded me.
“All right – fine, you got me back. Ha, ha, you’re so clever. At least hand me a towel.”
“Mm…I don’t think so.”
“Hand me a freaking towel!” The water was getting perilously low, and I shoved one foot over the drain to try and diminish the flow.
“You didn’t say please…” he sang softly.
“Rob…” I looked straight at him then, directly into those hazel eyes, and something I saw in them squashed my impulse to laugh. I don’t know what it was, but all of a sudden the only impulse I felt anymore was the overpowering urge to kiss him. And not only that. I had the craziest compulsion to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him on top of me and let him do me six ways to Sunday, right there in the bathtub.
My expression must have been transparent because his smile inexplicably faded. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine. For what, I can’t say. But I guess he didn’t find what he was looking for there. Straightening, he tossed me the drain stopper and walked out without a word.
AUTHOR BIO
Allie fell in love with the written word from the moment she was issued her very first Sally, Dick and Jane book. Born and raised in Alabama, she now resides in the panhandle of Florida with her own blue-eyed Prince Charming and three obnoxious cats. When she’s not working on her latest literary project, she can usually be found watching B-movie horror (the cheesier, the better), reading or playing online computer games while indulging her unhealthy Pepsi addiction.
In 14th century England, a long-kept secret upends Rowan Langley’s life. His anger sends him on a quest to discover the truth behind the lies he’s been told. Determined to avoid such betrayal again, he trusts no one and lets his wrath guide him and keep others from getting close, except fellow knight Gerard, his only ally.
Aeron Dawkyns is running for her life – fleeing Wales and a false charge of murder. Forced to live in the street and pickpocket to save enough money to travel to England where her brother can help her, she steals coin from Rowan. Though she at first escapes capture, her luck runs out when Rowan catches her attempting to steal his horse. He offers her a choice – sexual slavery to himself and Gerard, or be handed over to the sheriff to be hanged. To stay alive, she agrees to Rowan’s deal, never expecting the torment she will endure.
As the days pass, Aeron finds serving a bitter and angry Rowan has dark pleasures of its own, pleasures she soon learns to crave. For the first time in months, she feels safe, despite the wicked and torturous games the two knights play with her body. But when Rowan insists on dragging her back into Wales, she fears that safety will be utterly destroyed at the end of a hangman’s noose.
When Rowan learns of Aeron’s plight, he vows to help hunt down those who have falsely charged her. He promises to protect her, and keep her, using the debt she still owes as his reason. But how can he keep her safe when he fears he is no better than the brutal enemy who wants her hanged? He has come to crave his slave’s touch, as much as he craves her heart and never wants to let her go.
Staying with Rowan becomes Aeron’s heart’s desire – but could very well mean the end of her life.
Includes: Bondage, spanking, multiple partners and anal sex
How he made his way to the stables, he didn’t know. Though the hour had grown late, the urge to ride seemed more important than anything else. Whenever he raced his steed across the fields, he cleared his head, found it easier to think and plan.
He quickly saddled his destrier, patting the black on the neck. The animal butted his nose into Rowan’s chest. Somehow the animal sensed his distress. He led the horse across the bailey and mounted, calling up to the sentry on the battlements.
“Raise the gate!”
“But sir, ’tis late!”
Rowan growled. “Now!” His shout echoed in the bailey and died down, just as the creak of the wooden gate being raised sounded in the quiet night.
Rowan held his impatience back, his head still spinning, both from the ale and the lies he’d uncovered. It seemed a cruel nightmare, one from which he couldn’t wake.
His name echoed around him, finally sinking through the haze. He turned.
Gerard Moreland, a knight in Montchester’s garrison and Rowan’s close friend, hurried across the bailey.
“What is it?” Rowan turned his gaze back to the gate, not rising quickly enough.
“I came to offer congratulations!” Gerard gave him a worried stare. “I didn’t think… What troubles you?”
Rowan didn’t know what to say, so he ignored the question.
“You can’t be meaning to ride now, not when you’re so far into your cups, you can barely sit straight in the saddle.”
“I am fine.” Finally! The gate rose high enough now, and he spurred Mercury out of the bailey, aware of Gerard shouting behind him.
He and Mercury knew the land well, so Rowan gave the animal its head, letting him run across great stretches of land. The cool air lashing his face did nothing to soothe the turmoil rolling his gut. All the while, the vision of Gillian’s teary face hovered in his thoughts, seeming to surround him. Her voice, insisting she loved him. Rowan shook his head.
All lies. Who was he?
Hoofbeats behind him drew him from the haze and he slowed Mercury. He scowled to see Gerard riding toward him.
“Are you mad?” the other knight asked as he moved within earshot.
Though he slowed his horse to a walk, Rowan did not stop and wait. He couldn’t outrace his friend now, not in this shape. He fingers clenched on the reins. Mayhap this was some imagining brought on by the amount of ale he’d drunk.
Gerard rode up beside him. “What happened? I thought to offer my good wishes and find you in a drunken rage. Look at you! Why would you risk your horse, nay your life on such a foolish ride?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Tell me.”
Rowan tossed the words over in his thoughts, but nothing made any sense. Anger, harsh and burning, rose in his throat and his hands fisted again.
“They lied. They all lied. I’m not…”
The words ended on a growl. He had no way to express the fury tearing at him, ripping apart everything he thought he knew about himself. All had been a lie, every excuse they fed him whenever he’d been brave enough to question the instinct telling him he didn’t quite belong.
“Who am I?” he asked.
Gerard eyed him curiously. “I don’t understand.”
Rowan straightened, pulling the rage under his control until the gut-rolling sensation eased. He urged Mercury into a slow trot, unwilling to look at his friend. “I am not a Langley. Gillian is not my mother, and the Earl is not my father.”
Gerard chuckled. “Nay! I won’t fall for another prank!”
“‘Tis not a prank. They lied to me since I was born.” He gave silent thanks for the clouded moonlight, so Gerard wouldn’t see the agony he knew he couldn’t conceal.
“When did you learn this?”
Gerard’s steady and calm voice only stirred more anger. Somehow, Rowan managed not to lash out at his friend.
“I overheard them. My moth… Gillian said she wished she’d birthed me. When she saw me… the look on her face confirmed the truth. God’s blood, why didn’t they tell me?” He slammed one fist into the other open palm. The anger continued to spark, growing with each passing moment.
Gerard reached around and grabbed Mercury’s reins. When Rowan moved to jerk them free, Gerard tightened his grip. He dismounted and gave Rowan’s arm a tug.
“Get down.”
Still dizzy from the ale, and too tired to argue, Rowan complied. He swayed when his feet touched the ground. Gerard grabbed his shoulders to steady him.
“Man, what are you going to do? I expect you’ll seek out the truth.”
Rowan gave a grim smile. “You know me well. Since you came to foster. Have you never wondered why I never fostered out?”
Gerard nodded. “I have, but assumed there must be a good reason. Are you sure this is true?”
Rowan nodded. “They admitted they had saved me from.., when I was born. They took me in as theirs.”
“So what will you do now?”
“I have to leave. I need to sort this all out.”
“You need to talk to your… them before you do anything foolish.”
Rowan paused. He gave Gerard a calculating nod. “You’re right. I need more answers before I go anywhere. I need to know where to look to find my true family.”
“I will go with you,” Gerard vowed.
Rowan nodded. He looked back toward Montchester. His home. Not his. Where was his home, his family? Where did he belong? Anger and nausea mingled. Would he ever know?
Book 1
Near the Scottish border during the reign of Edward I, Marissa Langley, daughter of a powerful English earl is captured by a band of marauding Scotsmen. Completely at their mercy, she is desperate to escape. When the leader of the group saves her from certain rape, she believes she will be freed.
But Ian MacCallum is no savior. He takes her for his own, seduces her then makes her a submissive. Her collar and chains are part of his vengeance on her father—the man Ian claims is responsible for the death of his beloved wife and son.
But her immediate death is not Ian’s plan. He subjects her to daily suffering and punishments and goes so far as sharing her with another clansman. Yet, her spirit will not be broken. He finds himself drawn to that core of strength within her; finding it most exquisite as it cannot be violated.
When danger from within his clan threatens her, Ian protects her, discovering at the same time that he does not want to lose her, ever.
Marissa makes her own discovery: she comes to crave Ian’s torturous touch. When she learns the source of his hatred, she is certain he is wrong. Her father would not commit atrocities. She waits for the moment when she can escape and prove her father’s innocence. But that would mean leaving Ian when she is no longer sure she wants to be free.
Includes: Bondage, collars, spanking, multiple partners and so much more!
A sudden stab of fear ran through Marissa. The slow smile parting his dark beard revealed even, white teeth sent not only a frisson of alarm, but a shiver of excitement. She recognized a gleam in his eyes that hinted at his approval of what he saw. Perhaps this was something she could use to her advantage until she could get her hands on a sword or dagger. If she played along with the attraction, he might lower his defenses and she could find her way free. Pretending to feel an attraction should not be difficult. She found it easy to look at him as well. His dark eyes smoldered with heat as he stared, and a neatly trimmed beard covered his strong jaw. Long dark hair fell beyond his shoulders. Some of the chill of the cave left her.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with the attentions of men. Many of her father’s knights had openly admired her, some had even tried to woo her. While she’d enjoyed the flattering attentions, she’d dismissed most of the men. Leland had been the first she had agreed to meet. He didn’t mock her skill or insist she tend to more feminine pursuits, such as needlework or running a household. She had no time for silly dalliances like her sisters. Instead, Marissa had trained with her brothers, handling a sword with ease and ability, until she’d become almost as skilled as they.
She longed for a sword now. Any blade would do. Damn Leland for convincing her to leave her weapon behind. She would use her beauty and feminine charms to get out of this situation. She should have paid more attention to her sisters’ behavior around men. She truly had little idea of how to lure one to her bed. Even if she planned to beat him senseless once she got him there. She concentrated, hiding her grimace as she recalled how her sisters had simpered foolishly after some of the knights in her father’s garrison. Could she do this? She had to; else she would never be free.
“‘Twould be wise for you to release me now, before my father and his men come looking.” “Do you still deny you are the Panther’s daughter?”
She shook her head. Better to let him think she had been subdued. “Aye, I am the daughter of the Panther. He will kill anyone who harms me.”
“Who said anything about harming you?”
She held his gaze, sensing his suspicion ebb, while the interest in his dark gaze rose. She could do this. Her heart raced a little faster, oddly pleased to know he found her attractive. Stop it, foolish girl, concentrate on freeing yourself.
“You’ve kidnapped me, I assume for a ransom. That crime alone is harming me. I’m sure my father will see it the same way.”
“I promise you, lass, you will find nothing but enjoyment in your stay with us. By the time the sun rises high in the sky, we’ll be long gone from these caves.”
A brief flare of panic threatened to erupt. Marissa tamped it down. “Certainly the caves are cover enough? Why leave?”
“I’ll not tell you our plans. I suggest you settle in, ’twill be a long night if you insist on cowering in the corner.”
“I am not cowering.”
“Mayhap. But my order remains. You will obey me.”
“I’m afraid I cannot.”
“Why is that, lass?”
“This cave is simply unacceptable. I am used to being treated in a much better manner.”
He laughed, and Marissa’s temper fired hot once more. She held it inside, trembling with the force trying to burst through her calm exterior.
“You mock me?”
“Nay, lass, not entirely. You’re lucky to have even these small comforts. Mayhap once we are back in my village, you’ll find the accommodations more to your liking.”
He stepped closer, and her senses came to full alert. Determined not to show the fear that
now left her knees shaking, she held herself steady. All too soon, he stood before her, his massive height forcing her to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. One hand came up, and she winced, preparing for a blow. Instead, the backs of his fingers lightly brushed her cheek. The gentle and unexpected touch sent an unrecognizable sizzle along her spine.
“Dinna fear, lass. I willna hurt you.”
“You already have, sir.”
He nodded, his gaze turning thoughtful. “I suppose in your eyes, ’tis the right of it. Set your worries aside. You will be safe as long as I am here to see to it.”
Deep inside, warmth continued to glow, and she found herself with the odd thought she believed she would be safe with him as her protector. He stared at her a few more moments, his fingers caressing her softly sending more of those delightful tingles throughout her. She curled her fingers into fists, but refrained from lashing out. Now was not the time. Despite his assurances, she knew he didn’t really believe her. She had to continue to play this game, until his guard lowered and she could make her escape.
Before she could give it another thought, he gripped her upper arms and hauled her closer, his mouth crashing down on hers. Her surprise was quickly lost on the yearning his lips inspired. His beard rubbed against her chin, creating an odd delight. All her careful thoughts faded as he tasted her and her body heated in response to the warmth rushing through her veins.
His tongue slipped along her lips and she didn’t even think to resist, opening her mouth to allow him inside. The heat threatened to reduce her to cinders. She had never known such a thrill, and never wanted the kiss to end.
Abruptly, he released her and she stumbled backward. Without her hands to steady herself, she lost her balance and landed on her arse. The shock jolted her from the cloud of longing he’d stirred, her body suddenly chilled. Had she actually enjoyed his kiss?
“Forgive me, lass.” He reached for her and helped her to stand. “Come, rest here for a while. I have tasks to tend to.”
He led her to the sleeping pallet and eased her to sit. He planned to leave her alone?
He gave her a grin that told her he knew exactly what path her thoughts took. “Dinna get any ideas about escaping.” He lifted a rope and quickly tied it to the leather strap binding her wrists. Once satisfied, he took the other end of the rope and fastened it to a rock protruding from the cave’s wall. With dismay, she realized she could not reach it, even if he had given her sufficient slack to move about the area.
“I wouldna leave you a chance to flee. Not that you’d get far. You’d have to get through my men and that’s as likely to happen as a sheep mating a donkey. I’ll not have you wandering the caves alone. ‘Tis too dangerous for a lass. You’ll be safe while I decide what to do with you. I will return shortly.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the caves. She stared after him, then turned to eye the odd branch-like stone the rope was bound to. Damn him! Yet, she knew, even if he hadn’t secured her to his little alcove, he’d been right. She wouldn’t have been able to get past his men, or she would have wound up lost in the caves. She sighed and plopped down on the pallet. At least she had time to think and plan. Mayhap she could find something to cut the ropes. She crawled over to his pack, hesitating before lifting the flap and peering inside.
She gulped. Nestled in the bag lay many long lengths of rope. She also spotted a vicious looking whip, and many more leather strips like the one that bound her now. Alongside them lay a crudely drawn outline of Montchester, and the surrounding area. The two towers along the battlements had large X’s over them. The earlier revelation that these Scots planned to siege Montchester came back to her. Terror prickled along her spine.
Colin and his men had spoken of scouting the area. No siege could occur now; Ian did not have enough men. Marissa had a moment’s relief at knowing her presence here in the caves could very well spare her mother and sisters from a horrific fate. She hoped her failure to return home
I’m a born-and-bred Jersey Girl, with Brooklyn roots, and I still live where it all started. I married my very own alpha male many eons ago, and am a (now formerly) full-time working mom to two school-age children. Still, even without a job, free time is always at a premium, and I spend the bulk of it lost in the worlds of my own making. I love to read and write hot sexy and emotional stories about people both glamorous and not-so-glamorous. And some of them are even downright un-heroic at times, which is part of what makes them so sexy, in my opinion!
On those rare occasions when I am not writing, you can catch me playing in my other favorite alternate worlds of Highlander, Harry Potter, Charmed, and DragonBall Z! Yes, I know, an odd combo, but they all feature some of the sexiest villains ever. A couple others that have recently been added to my favorites list: Sleepy Hollow and Vikings. Not necessarily villains, but flawed heroes – just as yummy! I’m also a HUGE fan of the NY Rangers.
My books, which usually involve BDSM themes, and range from historical to paranormal and futuristic/sci-fi, are available through Renaissance Ebooks Sizzler Editions and Pink Flamingo Publications.
You can find me on the web in all the usual haunts – Twitter, FB, Google+, Linkedin, and elsewhere.
In Manhattan’s glitzy gallery scene love and art are perilous games.
Will Sienna dare to play?
All too soon, artist Sienna Karr will graduate art school and be flung out into Manhattan’s glamorous but cutthroat gallery scene. Luckily, she’s just met Dave Hightower, heir to the hippest gallery ever. He’s asked her on a date, and offered to introduce her to the gallery owner, his intimidating aunt Lydia. Sienna’s excited! Now she’ll be able to climb the ranks and make those all-important art connections.
Trouble is, she’s falling hard for the sexy live drawing model, Erik, whose sizzling green eyes seem to pierce right into her soul. Dare she risk losing those potential art contacts for love? Erik insists that Sienna is a real talent and her painting stands out above all the others. But she worries that he whispers this come-on line to every pretty art student who flocks around him during breaks. And her friends worry, is Erik up to her pay grade? What kind of guy chooses modeling for a living? Who is he, really? Her choice may be her ruin—or not—but she must decide fast. Everything in Sienna’s super-organized life is turning to terrifying yet sweet chaos.
I prop my canvas on the easel and squeeze oil paints onto my palette. I’ve been looking forward to this last new class of spring semester. It’s so different from what I normally do: computer art—neat, digital prints. But oil paint is buttery and sexy, with a warm pinesap aroma that I could inhale all day. I make sure my paints are in a perfect color-spectrum line, from cadmium yellow and permanent rose, all the way to the darkest ultramarine blue.
I’m like that. At home my shoes are arranged from lowest to spikiest heel, and the dresses in my closet are color coordinated. Order is good. Chaos is scary. I’ve known that since my mom went through her third divorce. Three hubbys done in by her sinkfuls of dirty dishes, mountains of wrinkled clothes, and hoarded bags of dresses from shopping sprees she couldn’t afford! No mess in my life. Not happening. You could eat off my apartment floor.
So far in class we’ve only done charcoal drawings, so oils will be an interesting change. Though I don’t have high hopes for today’s model. The live models have been a motley crew: a guy in a clown suit and Medieval court jester’s hat, a dowdy lady in a diaphanous gown, and a skeletal girl in a bikini who bit her nails and paced during breaks.
Where are all the sexy male muses?
“Hey, Sienna!” Dave Hightower saunters in and chooses the easel next to me. He hands me a steamy cappuccino.
“For me? Thanks, Dave.” This is why I like Dave. Well, that and his passion for expensive Italian sweaters, leather dress shoes, tight black denims, and the body to work them. I sip my drink and look around at the other guys in class, all dressed in the arty grad-school uniform of paint-spattered jeans and T-shirts with slogans. I shake my head and return to the more pleasant sight of the well-dressed man next to me, who’s flashing me an array of professionally whitened teeth. I can’t help but admire Dave’s perfectly coiffed black hair, longish but combed back neatly. He has chiseled features and a strong brow, as if he’s carved out of marble. Intimidating, really. I’ve never dated a guy as put together as Dave.
But I feel like I should.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a snob. Dressing like a slob is fine for freshmen, but we’re in our twenties now.
This summer after I graduate, I’ll be pounding the pavement, searching for a lucrative arty job to replace my part-time gig retouching perfume ads for Chanel. Artists have to present well in the real world. They have to pay their car loans, credit cards, and apartment rents like anyone else.
Dave Hightower catches me admiring him and grins. “Ready for our date later?”
I just met him two weeks ago, and he asked me out during our last class. I’m looking forward to it and to getting to know him—and his family’s gallery—better.
“Sure, where are we going?”
“I’ll take you over to Studio Hightower, my aunt’s gallery,” Dave suggests offhandedly, as if I am not already completely aware and awed. It’s been all Merry, Harper, and I have talked about since we found out Dave was in this class. My two best friends here share charcoal sticks, drawing paper, and essential buzz. “There’s a show at Hightower you’ll like,” adds Dave, “of wildly painted neon environ-scapes.”
I nod. Sounds off-putting. I prefer the order of photorealism and crisp digital art, but I keep my mouth shut. After all, it’s Dave Hightower.
Anyone who has talent and ambition would kill for a solo show in Studio Hightower. It’s on WestTwenty-Second Street in the heart of Chelsea, the hottest gallery district in Manhattan.
“Hey, always up for new art,” I say. “I like wild art done by a loose hand.”
“Manually manipulated is the way to go,” Dave says suggestively as he waggles his eyebrows and puts his fingers into plastic gloves.
Plastic gloves for painting? Germaphobe. I’m a clean freak, and even I don’t do that. I quickly ease my judgmental cringe into a fetching grin as I search for a funny comeback. “I wonder who our next model will be. Do you think Mr. Court Jester will make a repeat appearance?”
“I’m betting on Nightgown Lady.” Dave squeezes out his last color with an oozy splot.
The teacher, a soft-spoken man in faded corduroys and wire glasses, announces that the model will be out momentarily. From across the room, I exchange anticipatory glances with my friends, Harper and Merry, and pantomime a fake drum roll. They snicker and do drum rolls back. The class turns its attention to the small stage in front of our easels. It’s been set up with risers and a red velvet curtain, as if it’s a Broadway production.
Then the model emerges, and I almost spill my cappuccino on Dave’s shoes.
The sexiest male muse I’ve ever laid eyes on pads out, all oiled coordination and sleek muscles. He’s at least six-four, and every chest muscle ripples and cuts in the right place. His hair’s sandy and shaggy, and his jaw is square and resolute with a gold-dusted five-o’clock shadow. But it’s his eyes that strike me most; they’re emerald green with a slight upward slant toward each cheekbone, as if he hiked all the way here from a northern land of sun and wind.
“Kitsy Clare paints a provocative picture with words – a sexy montage of art, beauty, lust and love as colorful as any artist’s canvas.” -Share my Destiny, romance book blogger
“A captivating and sensual work of art!”-Jaycee DeLorenzo, author of The Truths About Dating and Mating
“Model Position is sexy, suspenseful and oh, so hard to put down. Kitsy Clare mixes a skillful, fast-moving story as Sienna, a talented but uptight art student takes on the trendy New York art scene. She’s caught between the pull of ambition and the possibility of steamy, but true-blue love in the form of Erik, a delicious male model with no connections. Or is he true? And is Erik really all he seems to be?”
-Helen Mallon, author of Indecent Exposure & other short stories;
Book Reviewer, Philadelphia Inquirer
Author Bio:
When Kitsy Clare isn’t creating romances on her Mac Air, she teaches writing workshops. She also loves to draw, travel, read spicy romance, sci-fi and all kinds of thrillers. She divides her time between New York City and her Catskills studio, where she enjoys the sounds of birds, bullfrogs and the random coyote.
She also writes young adult fiction as Catherine Stine. Her YA futuristic thriller, Fireseed One won finalist spots in both YA and Science Fiction in the 2013 USA Book News International Book Awards, and was an Indie Reader Approved notable book. Her YA Refugees, earned a New York Public Library Best Book. Ruby’s Fire, the new companion novel to Fireseed One, is receiving high praise from reviewers. She’s a member of RWA, SCBWI and SFWA. She loves her readers and enjoys hearing from them.
Giveaway – The following are the items the author is giving away in a rafflecopter draw – Click here to enter.
2 Art of Love wristlet bags (US & Canada)
One Kindle with built in Wi-Fi plus 5W USB Charger (US/Can)
Ebook bundle of Ruby’s Fire and Fireseed One (INT)
As a thirteen year old teenager, Xunaira J. aspired to be an author someday. From short stories to novellas, she has written them all but as an adult now, she has published two short stories and is now aiming to publish her first Novel, Before Time, scheduled for November release. Xunaira resides in Islamabad, Pakistan and enjoys a hot cup of cappuccino, a good romance novel and her favorite music from the 80’s. Apart from that, when she’s not working on her current literary project, she loves developing mobile applications and studies as a software engineer.
How he made his way to the stables, he didn’t know. Though the hour had grown late, the urge to ride seemed more important than anything else. Whenever he raced his steed across the fields, he cleared his head, found it easier to think and plan.
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