~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Like a cornered animal, brought to bay at last, she turned to face her pursuer. Her shaking hands held the staff, and her grip tightened, ready to fight.
“Come on out then,” she growled, fear and unwilling lust replaced by resolve. “Show yourself to me.”
A long pause, then the Lord of the Forest appeared.
He took the form of a mighty stag, picking his way delicately from under the shadows of the trees. Five feet high at the shoulder, he towered over her, even from a distance. His coat was a deep dark red, the color of blood, caught with burrs and twigs and leaf fragments. His eyes were a liquid black, beautiful in the dim light. A mighty crown of antlers erupted from his head, the wide span seeming to cradle the sky itself.
Oh. Now I understand. The mingling of fear and lust. Oh, Moira, don't make a mistake now. If the old tales are true, you are about to be blessed above all women.
The stag walked closer, its hooves almost silent on the deep grass of the clearing. It bent its head, the wicked tines of its antlers lowering, until one pressed into the hollow of her throat.
Moira lowered her eyes respectfully. “I give you greeting, my Lord.” Mindful of the danger, she lifted the hem of her skirt in a graceful curtsey.
When she lifted her eyes, the stag was gone. In its place stood a man.
He was fully nude. His red hair, a match for the stag's pelt, hung long past his neck, braided with feathers, shells, and small bones. His black eyes were deep and dark, but alight with mischief. His arms and legs, although bearing many small scratches, were clean, straight, and strong. His chest rose from the sculpted muscles of his stomach, making her pulse flutter. It was almost hairless, but the scattering of red-brown fuzz at his navel gradually broadened and thickened until it merged with the wiry hair at his loins.
Moira was no trembling virgin. She had given her maidenhood to a traveling tinker over a year ago, protected from conception by her grandmother's wisdom. She had found the experience very pleasurable, and looked forward to the day when she would find and wed a man of her own.
But this man...
The Lord spoke, his voice deep, a small thread of humor winding through his words.
“Well, little rabbit. You are far away from your fields. How came you to my domain?” Even in human form, there was a suggestion of horns about his head, wavering like a heat-mirage.
Moira bent her head again, her voice low and respectful. “I came here looking for a lost pig, my lord. I mean no harm to you or the wood.”
Moira shivered as he stepped closer to her. She could feel the heat radiating off his body. His musk rose around her...
Charlie Griffin had sworn to save himself for marriage. When he met hot, sexy Elena Rodriguez, he thought his prayers had been answered. But then Elena is cruelly taken away from him on their wedding night. Succumbing to despair, Charlie sinks into depression. But he hasn't counted on the willpower of one young woman. Jasmine, Elena's daughter, won't let him throw his life away. She will do anything to claim the love of "My Virgin Daddy."
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
Charlie was shivering with pleasure and fear. This was not what he had imagined his first time would be like. Rather than the culmination of weeks of planning after a wedding, he was being seduced by his dead wife's daughter. His eyes feasted on her incredible body, seeing for the first time what he had known unwillingly. Long, slim legs melded into a pair of subtly curved hips, the white lace of her high-cut panties emphasizing her slender waist. Above, her stomach was flat, the dimple of her navel winking at him saucily. The delicate fan of her ribs morphed irresistibly into the lovely curves of her breasts, standing out high and proud from the wall of her chest, obviously not needing the negligible support of her filmy bra.
“Thirty-six C,” she said, catching his look. “A little smaller than Mama's, but then,” she shrugged, “I haven't had any babies yet. They'll probably get a bit bigger when I do.”
“It's all right, Charlie,” she said. “Men like to know.” She stepped closer, until he could feel the heat of her body. “Would you like to go to my room?” she asked quietly.
She shook her head. “Too many memories. I know Mama never slept with you there, but...it would still feel like I was trying to take her place.
“I'm not, you know.” Her face, looking up into his, was solemn. “I know I'm not her. I'm me. But I'm a me who loves you, Charlie. And I don't want you to hurt anymore.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. I'm screwing this up. I just...”
Greatly daring, Charlie laid his fingers across her full, kissable lips. His heart was hammering in his chest. Slowly, carefully, he enfolded his stepdaughter in his arms, until their bodies were pressed together. He could feel her soft curves against his bare chest. His arousal was an iron bar inside his slacks, pressing against her bare belly. Jasmine didn't flinch away. Instead, she made a low, growling noise deep in her throat, and her hands reached around him to grab his ass, pulling them even closer together.
Her eyes, when they met his, were shining. “Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“Um.” He swallowed. “I want to apologize. When I was upstairs yesterday, I opened the curtains because I hoped to see you naked.
“You have every right to tell my parents, or call the cops, or whatever else you think is appropriate.
“I’m sorry,” he finished. “I’m really, really sorry, and I will never do anything like that again. Not to you or to any other woman.”
After, a long moment, she blinked. “An apology. Well. Apparently you’re not a complete prick.” She paused, seemingly gathering her thoughts. “So, Jack.” Her tone was chilly. “Here’s the question. Were you spanking the monkey last night because you were seeing a naked woman? Or because I was naked?”
Jack didn’t need to think about it. “It was because of you.”
“Oh? Do you think I’m beautiful?” He thought he could see something stirring in her eyes.
“No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think you’re beautiful.
“I think you’re hot.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Lots of women are beautiful. Or want to be. And they’re going to spend the rest of their lives trying to hold onto the way they look right now. And the older they get, the harder they’ll try. Eventually, they’ll be nothing but makeup and liposuction and dye-jobs and botox. I’ve seen it with my mother’s friends. It looks like their faces will crack if they smile.”
Jillian’s lips twitched, and that gave him the courage to go on. “But you, Mrs. Murphy. You don’t seem to care. I mean, you look good. But you don’t have to work at it. You have this grace, this natural flow about you. You remind me of a tiger. Or a leopard.”
“Not a cougar?” Damn it, there was a smile playing around one corner of her mouth. For the first time, he felt himself relax slightly.
“Maybe. You’re…you’re just sexy, Jillian. I’ve thought so for years. And I wanted to see you. All of you.”
“Hmm.” For a long moment, Jillian stared at him. She nodded once, abruptly. “All right. Apology accepted.”
He felt his knees buckle. “Oh, thank God,” he said. He turned for the door. “I’m sure you don’t want to see any more of me,” he said, realizing he was babbling, but unable to shut up. “I’ll see you later.”
He felt his shirt sleeve seized in an iron grip. “Oh, no you don’t.”
Her face was lit by some unnameable emotion. “I said I accepted your apology. I didn’t say that I was done with you.
“I. Own. You.
“So here’s how it’s going to be, Jack. You can walk out of here. And sometime in the next couple of days, your entire comfortable little world is going to come tumbling down around your ears. Maybe it’s an anonymous phone call to the cops. Maybe it’s a letter in the mailbox. Maybe I show up on your front doorstep, and walk to talk to your parents.
“So unless you do what I want, I ruin you.”
Jack could almost feel the blood draining away from his face. “So what is it? What do you want?”
Jillian stepped closer, so close he could almost feel the heat of her body. “Oh, don’t look so scared.
“Do you know,” she asked, one hand tracing patterns on his chest, “how long it's been since I've been in bed with a man who found me attractive? It has to be nearly twelve years.
“So here’s the deal, Jack. You show me exactly how hot you find me. And I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
He stared at her. "You're blackmailing me into sex?"
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“We're home!” Becca shouted cheerfully as Mary turned on the lights. She took off her jacket, then helped Debbie do the same thing, hanging them up neatly on the battered coatrack by the door. Free of the jacket, Debbie toddled over to her, her small round face creased in a frown.
“I'm hungwy, Mommy,” she said.
“I'll have something ready for you in a few minutes, sweetheart,” she said absently. Then she realized that Evey was looking at her with something like horror in her eyes.
'Mommy?' This child? Evey's mind reeled. She had thought the two girls were Mary's nieces. Or perhaps she was a babysitter. She looked at the two children and her mind did some rapid mental math. She couldn't have been more than fifteen when her first child was conceived. If that. Maybe less.
Mary looked at her, her chin raised, daring her to say something. “They're both mine,” she said with painful dignity, “and no one is going to take them away from me.”
“I wasn't judging,” she replied quietly. “I do social work myself. I've seen worse, believe me. I've seen thirteen-year-old boys strung out on heroin. I've seen women who shouldn't even be allowed to be near children having baby after baby. I've seen...too much,” she finished lamely, unwilling to catalog all of the horrors she had seen over the last three years.
“You talk funny,” Rebecca observed, from a spot down around her knees.
“Rebecca!” Mary said, her voice horrified. She looked at Evey in apology. Instead, she knelt down to kiss the child's cheek.
“Ah do, don't ah, punkin?” she said, emphasizing her Georgia drawl. “Why, bless yo heart, but you're just as sweet as pah.”
The little girl giggled, then spun away to sit on the couch. “You mentioned a shower?” Eveline asked, feeling her frigid, waterlogged jeans sticking uncomfortably to her thighs.
“Of course,” Mary said, blushing. She led her down a short hall to a bathroom. “Just toss your clothes outside the door. I'll put them in the dryer. It's one of the few extras this place has.”
She skinned out of her wet clothes quickly, tossed them blindly out the bathroom door, then stepped under the blessedly hot spray of the shower, letting the heat soak into her bones. Unwilling to get her long black hair wet when she had a long drive home in terrible weather, she lathered with a bar of soap over and over, until the last remnants of chill had been driven away.
She stepped out, drying herself with a threadbare but clean towel. She was just hanging it up and beginning to wonder what she was gong to wear while her clothes finished drying when there was a polite tap at the door. Mary came in, with a small pile of clothes held in her arms.
“I thought these might fit,” she started, then broke off, staring at her naked body. Her pale face, her skin like cream under Evey's gaze, flushed scarlet.
Eveline kept her face carefully neutral. Oh. So it's like that, is it? But inside, her heart leaped, even as her belly spasmed in frustrated longing. Two children, and a lesbian? She must have one hell of a story to tell. And I doubt it's a happy one.
“Thanks,” she said calmly, taking the clothes.
“I've...I've got your clothes in the dryer,” Mary stuttered, still unable to peel her eyes away from her chest. “Come on out when you’re ready.”
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Grace watched as a riot of emotions chased themselves across William’s face. Confusion, understanding, a bright surge of hope, an answering darkness as he shook his head.
“I am married, my lady captain,” he said, taking refuge in formality.
Damn the man! Why did he have to be so…so honorable?
She would not, would not beg, she swore to herself. “True.” She backed away and leaned against a bulkhead, crossing her arms under her breasts, using the motion to lift them slightly. Her lip twitched as she caught William noticing. “But do you wish to go to her bed, as her husband, with this hanging over your head?
“One night, William. I offer nothing more. And nothing less.
“You say she is cold to you. I am not. I am not like my sisters. I am not drawn to them. I want…” Their eyes locked suddenly, sea-gray meeting his dark blue, like the twilight sky in the last moments before true night fell. “I want a man. I want to feel him inside me. I want muscles and strong arms and legs and something long and hard I can ride.”
She watched him lift the glass to his lips, swallowing the last of the whiskey. Slowly, he rose to his feet and set the glass aside, and she despaired, sure he was about to leave.
In two long strides, he was next to her. She gasped as she felt his arms close around her, holding her tight. She felt his head nestle against her hair, and she returned his embrace, knowing without being told his need for simple human comfort.
When they parted, his eyes were shining in the lamplight. “So,” he murmured. “How do you want to do this?”
“I want to make love to you,” she answered. She held up her hand as he tried to speak. “Not with you. To you.
“Stand over there,” she said, using her chin to point at the curtained alcove where her bunk lay. “Very good,” she smiled as he obeyed her order. She followed, looking up at him, admiring his well-made body. Even as she did, she could feel her pulse begin race excitedly, her body preparing itself for love.
Seven weeks. Seven weeks since they had left port. Seven weeks since she’d had a man. Touching herself until she gained release was not nearly enough, and even if she had been like some of the other women on the ship, who did not blink at taking female lovers, doing so would have undermined her authority.
“What-“ but she cut him off.
“I am making love to you,” she repeated. She stepped closer, running her hands over the fine cloth of his shirt, feeling the strong muscles underneath. For once she was glad William was not dressed in his customary finery. He looked very well in the clothes of a lord, but getting him out of them…
That would take far too long.
But now a new age is dawning. Rome, with its mighty military and its new gods, thinks little of the tribes of Britain. If Finian and Eilonwy are to weather the storm, they will have to learn to work together, despite their differences. And what role will Aurelia, half-blood daughter of the governor of Corinium, play in our tale? She has seen the future through the gift of her mother's people, but will she have the strength to embrace her fate?
Old foes become new allies, and desire erupts in the most unlikely of places. Because, despite all they can do, Eilonwy, Finian, and Aurelia are all caught in the web of…The Dryad's Passion.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“What,” she asked, “was that?”
Finian grinned up at her like a fool, his face full of a joy that echoed her own. “Humans call it an orgasm.”
“And human women…have these…orgasms…often?”
He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed, and sat back on his heels, the movement bringing more of his magnificent body into view. She eyed it with unabashed hunger. “I think they can. I don't know if they do. The woman who…who was my first lover…taught me how to please her. I am very happy that what works for women works for dryads as well, Eilonwy.”
She was suddenly consumed by a blazing fire of jealous fury. Another woman had dared to lie with her beloved? Had she taken his seed within her? Born his child?
She forced the anger away, another thought striking her. “Can…can men have this orgasm, as well?”
A lopsided smile pulled his mouth into an attractive curve. “Oh, yes. We can.”
“And how is it done?”
He made a cautious gesture towards his shaft, which was still rising proudly from its nest of pubic hair at his groin. “With your hands. Or your mouth.” She felt her eyes widen in surprise. That in her mouth? She fought back a giggle. Of course, a few moments ago, you would never have thought Finian would put his mouth where he did. And look how pleasantly that turned out.
“Or, if you allow it,” he continued, his face as red as his hair, “I could…we could…” he stuttered to a halt.
Suddenly realizing what he was trying to say, Eilonwy lay back in the grass, letting her legs sag apart lewdly. Her eyes were drawn to his groin like a flower following the sun across the sky. His male hardness bounced in time with his heartbeat. “Inside me?” she whispered. Despite everything, she felt a tiny stab of worry. How would he…gods, how would he fit?
“Yes.” Although quiet, his voice throbbed with need.
“Then come, my love,” she said, letting go of her fear and allowing her own desire fill her voice. She held out her hands to him. “Come to me.”
The nuns of St. Guinevere have done it. In this sequel to "The Nun's Seduction," the angel Belial has been summoned, brought to earth to satisfy their every lusty desire. But some of the sisters are getting cold feet. Do they have the strength to withstand his sexual power? Or will they take part in "The Nun's Corruption?"
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
This is right.
The entire day seemed to coalesce, suddenly, snapping into focus as instantly as if she had been suffering from vision problems and had been handed a set of glasses. She knew, in that moment, that she never wanted to be parted from Belial, or from Abigail or Consuela. Her heart expanded, breaking the shackles of her self-imposed solitude.
The angel beneath her nodded, as if he could read her mind. “Now?”
She tried to shift, to take his jutting manhood inside her body, but found her effort stymied as Belial’s hands closed around her narrow hips.
Her mouth hung open with disbelief as she found herself lifted effortlessly off the ground, hanging in midair. Her toes reached down, seeking the solidity of the earth, but found only the warm summer breeze. “What?”
“Spread your legs for me, lovely Merry.” Belial smiled up at her, and she felt herself smiling in response. “I haven’t done this in a very long time.”
She shook her head. “You’re insane.” But she did as he bid, spreading her legs wide, as if she were some sort of erotic gymnast.
Slowly, how slowly he lowered her, aiming her seething center at the head of his phallus. As it approached her, she bit her lip, knowing that this step, one taken, was irrevocable.
Belial seemed to sense her hesitation, for his eyes locked with hers. “It’s not too late. You can always say no. I’ll stop. I’ll always stop, if you ask.”
She shook her head. “No. I want this.” I wouldn’t stop now for anything.
“Brave Meredith.” Slowly, with infinite gentleness, he lowered her, his angelic phallus piercing her, filling her with holy rapture.
But a long weekend with Sam provides unforeseen temptations. He’s not one to take her teasing ways lying down. Unless he's lying down with her! Because Sam has a dominant side. And he's dedicated the weekend to…Popping Cherry!
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
“I'm glad we were able to spend some time together, Sam.” She made her voice a caress. “Who knows when we'll be able to hang out again?”
He shrugged, keeping his eye on his bobber, which had begun to move in an interesting fashion. Did he have a fish on the line? “You're welcome to come up and visit any time you like.”
“Not like that, Sam.” She moved closer and let her hand stroke his arm. “Alone. Just the two of us.” Now, closer still, until the swell of her breast was pressing into the bulge of his bicep. She leaned until she could breathe into his ear. “Wouldn't you like that?”
She could see the tension building in his body, the way his free hand clenched as he fought for control. “Cherry…don't.”
“Don't what?” she teased, letting her hand fall oh-so-casually on his thigh. Slowly she moved it higher, until it was resting over the hot bulge of his crotch. “My,” she breathed. “What a…big…boy you are.”
“Remember, Cherry,” the voice seemed to come from a great distance. “I warned you.”
Her head spun as she found herself thrown suddenly to the ground. Her arms were stretched up high over her head, her wrists pinioned effortlessly in one of Sam's large hands. His other hand was engaged in pulling her shirt up over her head, a task which he managed with ridiculous ease.
“Sam, what are you doing?” Her voice was high and thready.
“Exactly what you want me to do,” he gritted. He used her shirt to bind her wrists together. “Wendy told me about the games you like to play. And I've seen it myself over the last few days. You're good, I'll give you that. You play the shy little vixen to perfection. And I bet you really get off on watching men grovel and beg.
“I tried to warn you. Remember, the first night? I asked you if you knew what winning would be like? Congratulations,” he said. “You've won. And this is your prize.”
He stood and went to the car, returning with a length of clothesline. Wide-eyed, she watched as he tied it firmly around the tree, then to her wrists. Bound, she found herself unable to move more than a few inches to either side. Her mouth grew dry from fear, and another, unnameable emotion. This wasn't big, gentle Sam, who had barely spoken a harsh word to her in all the years she had known him.
Or maybe, her mind whispered to her, you're seeing the real Sam for the first time. The one he hasn't shown to anyone else.
“This is how it's going to go, Cherry,” he said, kneeling down so he could look her in the eye. “I'm going to take all your clothes off. And then I'm going to take all of my clothes off. And I'm going to do whatever I want to you.
“If you don't want me to do this,” he continued, drawing one finger down her cheek, making her shudder, “all you have to do…is say 'no.'”
Gaelic Goddess - Thom Phelan inherits an incredibly sexy fertility goddess from his hated grandfather.
Holy Water - Charlie Schuler returns from war to reunite with a beautiful river spirit who has very erotic plans for him!
The Snow Maid - Bill Carter is rescued from certain death by an immortal nature spirit whose lusty sensuality stuns him!
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“My parents think I'm strange, you know,” he told Lily. They were sitting companionably on the bank of the creek, tossing pebbles into the clear water, their feet dangling in the stream. The sweet smell of plum blossoms floated by them in the warm breeze.
“I wish you had let Maggie see you when I brought her here,” he continued, somewhat peevishly. “Or Mama. Then they would know you were real, and not an imaginary friend. Mama told me not to talk about you where anyone else could hear me.”
Lilaea ignored the subject, just as she did any she did not wish to discuss. “The turtles are out,” she said with a smile, pointing at three lumpy objects basking in the sun.
Charlie followed her as she turned, and the breeze brought the scent of her hair to his nose. He shifted uncomfortably. Over the past year he had been growing more and more aware of Lily's physical presence during their time together. In fact, it was now a rare day when he did not have to duck into the barn after spending time with her and bring himself to shuddering release.
Today Lily was wearing a dress which seemed to incorporate all the flowers of spring. Thousands of delicate petals were somehow woven together into a multi-hued pastel garment which clung to her body like a second skin. From his vantage point beside her, he could peek down the open neckline and see the swells of her breasts.
She turned back towards him, her eyes wicked, and he flushed crimson.
“What were you looking at, naughty little boy?”
“I'm not little anymore,” he said, stung by her tone. “I'm taller than you are now.” Indeed, that had been a day to savor last autumn, when he finally passed her in height.
Lily flipped a hand dismissively. “All little boys are the same. They all want what they can't have.”
Hardly daring to breathe, Charlie reached out his hand and took hers, their fingers entwining. “I'm not like other boys,” he said.
She turned her head and looked deep into his eyes. He sank into them, feeling as if he were drowning. She cupped his cheeks in her tan hands, the cool skin a balm on his hot face.
“No, you're not." Soft as a whisper, her lips brushed his cheek, making him burn.