For generations, the Temple of the Deity has kept the people of Heklos safe. But now a new religion is coming, and Abiron and Ariana, priest and priestess of the Deity, must fight to protect their nation.
But what neither of them realize is that mightiest weapon the Deity has in Her arsenal is that of sexual love. Ariana, Abiron, and those whose paths they cross will all be bound up in it, fated to become...
The Guardians of Heklos.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Start at the waist, Ariana's advice, spoken months ago, whispered in his mind. He laid his hands gently on Angela, taking care to keep his touch feather-light. Stroking, motions slow and sure, he caressed her from hip to where the fan of her ribs began to swell into the proud outthrust of her small breasts. Stepping closer, he ran his hands down the long, strong muscles of her back, stopping short of the taut curves of her buttocks.
In turn, Angela began to explore his body. She drifted her hands down the clean lines of his chest, fingertips exploring him with delight. Her breath began to grow short. Greatly daring, she brought her face close to his neck and nuzzled him while he groaned in pleasure.
Enough, she thought. She came to him, sealing her body against his. She hooked her hands behind his shoulders and brought his sweet mouth down to hers for their first kiss. Boldly she opened her mouth and sought his tongue with hers. She felt his hands firmly grasp the curve of her hips, and in turn sought out the hard muscles of his buttocks. She cupped them in her palms, reveling in the strong feel of him under her hands.
Her hands sought to go lower. Bending her knees, she knelt before him, hands learning how his buttocks gave way to his thighs and thence to his calves. She removed his shoes, and her mouth dipped for a quick kiss on the arches of his feet. Still kneeling, her hands reached up and with sure fingers undid the flies of his breeches. She hooked her fingers in the waistband, and with one abrupt movement pulled his breeches to his feet. Eyes wide, she took in the object of her desire, standing strong and proud, bobbing in front of her face in time with his heartbeat, which she could feel in her palms as they rested on his legs. She licked her lips, staring at it. Her previous encounter, sweet as it was, had been a fumbled, hurried thing. She had had no chance to explore all the possibilities of desire. She looked up at Abiron.
“My friend, will you take me to bed?”
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.”
Mona Lisa St. James made a deathbed promise that she would do anything to save her mother's art gallery. Unfortunately, not only is The Red painted red, but it's in the red.
Just as she realizes she has no choice but to sell it, a mysterious man comes in after closing time and makes her an offer: He will save The Red if she agrees to submit to him for the period of one year.
The man is handsome, English, and terribly tempting...but surely her mother didn't mean for Mona to sell herself to a stranger. Then again, she did promise to do anything to save The Red...
“Deliciously deviant... Akin to Anne Rice’s ‘Beauty’ series.” — Library Journal (Starred Review)
"A delightful, wicked fairytale." — Smart Bitches, Trashy Books
"Kinky, well-written, hot as hell." — Little Red Reading Hood
"Smart and intriguing." — NPR
"Tiffany Reisz at her best." — Collector of Book Boyfriends
"[A] best romance of the month." — Goodreads
"An exploration, exploitation, and celebration of sex." — Heroes & Heartbreakers
"Four stars." — RT Book Reviews
"You can't quite believe what you're reading." — Lil Maso
"Not your average erotic fantasy story... [Leaves] you hot one moment, then raw the next." — Texas Reader Stacy
"Filthy." — Blogger Vivien Olvasókuckója
"I tossed sleep aside to finish it in a night... This book is worth it." — No Pithy Phrase
"No holds barred." — Sarah Tandy, A Woman and Her Books
"A lovely bit of literary smut, full of art and sex and mystery." — RITA Finalist Kira Gold
"Unlike anything I've ever read before." — A Reader Who Reads Blog
In the spring of 1628, the Witchfinder of Wessex finds himself a true Witch. As Bess Hawksmith watches her mother swing from the Hanging Tree she knows that only one man can save her from the same fate at the hands of the panicked mob: the Warlock Gideon Masters, and his Book of Shadows. Secluded at his cottage in the woods, Gideon instructs Bess in the Craft, awakening formidable powers she didn't know she had and making her immortal. She couldn't have foreseen that even now, centuries later, he would be hunting her across time, determined to claim payment for saving her life.
In present-day England, Elizabeth has built a quiet life for herself, tending her garden and selling herbs and oils at the local farmers' market. But her solitude abruptly ends when a teenage girl called Tegan starts hanging around. Against her better judgment, Elizabeth begins teaching Tegan the ways of the Hedge Witch, in the process awakening memories--and demons--long thought forgotten.
Part historical romance, part modern fantasy, Paula Brackston's New York Times bestseller, The Witch's Daughter, is a fresh, compelling take on the magical, yet dangerous world of Witches. Readers will long remember the fiercely independent heroine who survives plagues, wars, and the heartbreak that comes with immortality to remain true to herself, and protect the protégé she comes to love.
~~~~~ 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?"