Saturday, March 30, 2013

#Paranormal #Excerpt - DRAGON HEAT by Ella J. Phoenix


Today Ella J. Phoenix is sharing an excerpt from her paranormal release - Dragon Heat. Enjoy! And stop back tomorrow to read an excerpt from her new book Manatka.


Zoricah, the draconian demigoddess, has limited time to uncover a series of killings before one of her own meets the same fate. Determined not to let that happen, Zoricah has no other choice but to ask for the help of her race’s archenemy.

Tardieh, the Vampire King, has long learnt not to trust the Dragons but when the flames of passion ignite between him and Zoricah, he finds himself torn between overwhelming sexual heat and his centuries-old distrust.
Together they have to overcome their own prejudices before it is too late for their races and their love.

Buy Links

Author links

Short excerpt

The air around Zoricah changed slightly. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she heard a barely audible sound of a shoe scraping on the floor – her balcony floor. On a fluent movement, Zoricah pulled her combat knife out of its holster on her hip, sprung out of the couch and positioned herself facing the area where the noise had come from.

“Be at ease, draconian.” Tardieh’s grave voice came out of the darkness, shortly followed by his muscular tall body.

Zoricah held her breath. He was wearing black pants and a forest green long sleeve shirt that highlighted his green eyes. His dark brown hair, cut short at the nape and a bit longer in the front, contrasted his vampiric almost-translucent skin and framed his chiseled jaw perfectly. Even from a distance, she had to look up to match his intense stare. She wasn’t usually considered a short female but he was at least a head taller than her.

Tardieh narrowed his eyes, clearly noticing her detailed scrutiny of his body, and repeated the words she had given him in the park. “I come in peace.”

Zoricah noticed the sarcasm in his voice but decided not to reply. She went for the attack instead. She raised her knife higher and said with deceivingly easiness. “How did you find me?” All she had was her combat knife. Damn it, all her other weapons were in the house; too far for her to reach them before he reached her.

His lips curled up slightly. “Did you really think you could hide for long in my own territory?”

No, she didn’t but she had taken all precautions to at least have some time incognito before she had to worry about him knowing her location. Now it was too late for regrets. It was time for damage control. With her knife firmly pointing at him, she replied. “Fine, you found me. What do you want?”

His head tilted slightly to the side but he didn’t come any closer. “Funny, that’s exactly what I wanted to ask you.”

“You know why I am here, Tardieh. I’ve given you enough proof of the seriousness of our mission.”

Tardieh’s voice took on an even lower, more menacing tone. “Proof that could have been easily doctored.”

Zoricah could not understand where such resistance was coming from. Tardieh had been known to be hard-headed but he was also known for his quest for the truth. It had saved him from a number of attempts to destroy him and his closest friends.

Letting her frustration show, she exclaimed. “Tardieh, it has been more than two hundred years! Why would I come to you after all this time if not for something of the utmost importance?”

“Because you are the master of stratagems.” Tardieh responded taking a step closer. “After all, you were the one who managed to get me out of the draconian prison back in the war. You, only you, and no one else.”

“Yes! And I thought you would be grateful for that!” Zoricah said, not able to mask her frustration.

 “Grateful?!” It was his turn to show his frustration but just as fast his features took on the cynical tones from before. “Oh, please forgive my lack of manners, Your Holiness.” Bowing low, he carried on with the sarcasm. “Please let me make proper amends.”

Zoricah realized his intentions a second too late. With his vampire speed, Tardieh grabbed her hand which was holding the combat knife, twisted it behind her back while seizing her nape with his other hand. Just before he struck, Zoricah saw his fully extended fangs reflecting the moonlight.

He pierced her neck with vigor but not violence. His strong arms enveloped her and locked her in place. She tried to move but his hold on her left arm was in such an angle that to break away she would have to dislodge her shoulder first.
After the first pull, Tardieh seemed to have paused for a millisecond, as people do when they savor a rare wine. Zoricah felt the surge of power passing through them. Her blood streaming out into his lips. The initial pang from having her skin pierced quickly eased up with the anaesthetizing poison released by vampire fangs, giving room to the hypnotizing feeling of pure life energy flowing between their bodies.

His right hand started caressing her nape and massaging the base of her skull. Taunting, gentle and then pulling her even closer. She tried to resist but soon lost the battle. After a few more sips, she felt his hips closing in on her body. When she didn’t push him away, his strong pelvis became more imposing, rubbing her on the right places. It started small, almost imperceptible, forwards and backwards. Instead of listening to her inner voice that was screaming for her to fight him off, she lifted her chin and gave him easier access to her neck. He took it. His left hand started caressing her back, the same way he had done two hundred years before. His lips touching her skin as if kissing her as much as sucking on her. Her hips moved against his, wanting more, needing to feel more. She was soaked with wanting. She could feel his very hard cock rubbing deliciously against her. Damn clothes – who was the killjoy who invented them?
He lifted his lips from her neck and searched her eyes. She looked up at him, barely noticing he still had her in check by holding her arm behind her. His characteristic almost-translucent vampire cheeks were flushed - most likely because of her hot blood now coursing through his veins. He was even more handsome like this.

Tardieh opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. His eyes were frowning, as if she was a too-complicated puzzle he was trying to decipher. A light breeze blew across Zoricah’s face and she closed her eyes trying to prolong the moment and memorize the feeling of his body against hers – for she knew it would not last long. Soon he would wake up and take on his accusing tones again.

He surprised her once more. His nose flared as if taking in a divine fragrance. His eyes went wild with fierce wanting; an eerie red glow cloaked them for a split second then his lips crashed against hers with unexpected passion.
After taking a second to recover from the surprise, Zoricah gave in and returned his kiss with equal fervor. His lips were lush and inviting; his tongue searched hers in a sensuous dance. She lifted one of her legs in response, giving his fullness more access to its target.

She felt his deep groan reverberating against her lips. Tardieh finally let her left hand go, after safely throwing her combat knife on the floor, grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her off the floor. Zoricah felt the cold wall against her back. It was fascinating how its coolness contrasted with the intense heat growing inside her. Wrapping her arms around Tardieh’s neck, she rocked her hips slowly against his and was rewarded with another deep groan. He gently stroked her flat tummy then lifted her tank top up and caressed her ample breasts. It was Zoricah’s turn to moan. He deepened the kiss while playing with her left nipple. She was so wet she could barely think of anything else but to take him inside her. His lips left hers and found her already hardened nipple. He suckled her, teased her, taunted her to the edge. She heard more moaning and realized it was she who was emitting it. She was close, oh so close.
Too soon, he lifted his lips and whispered something in her ear but Zoricah was too consumed by the fire he had lit inside her.

“Tell me, Zoricah,” this time he tried to say it more clearly but his voice was quite hoarse, “why are you here?”

“W-what?” It took Zoricah a few moments to understand where the sudden conversation was heading to.

Tardieh kissed her neck. “Tell me who you’re working for.” He said, licking the wounds induced by his fangs. “Tell me and I will spare you. Oh, hell, I may even keep you for myself.”

His words had on Zoricah the same effect of a bucket of cold water on a balmy lazy cat. She pulled away and looked him in the eye. She was almost at his height in that up-in-the-air position. “Is that why you started this?” She said barely containing her fury. “Is that why you fucking kissed me? To get information about my supposed stratagem?”

He returned her fury with a portion of his own. “Isn’t that why you came to New York? To ploy against me and kill me the same way you had my father killed?”
Zoricah was stunned by his accusations. She shoved him away while pulling her tank top back in place. “You are insane, you know that? You have surrounded yourself by so many deceiving people that you can’t tell friend from foe anymore!”

“Do you really want me to believe that you knocked out one of my personal guards just to get in touch with me?” He replied as if that explained everything.
“That’s because you are stupidly impossible to reach!” She tried to find where her combat knife had gone but was too furious to focus. “You know, that says a lot about your leadership style!”

“You are on my territory, Zoricah, you should have come to me by official channels as tradition dictates.”

“Tradition!?” She was screaming now. She could not believe his words. What had happened to that prince who was willing to fight against all odds just because it was the right thing to do? “You know, I do apologize, I thought I was dealing with a true leader not a despot with a self-inflated ego!”

Tardieh did not take her offense lightly and said through clenched teeth. “Well, you don’t have to worry about self inflated ego, my dear, your band of little girls proved once more that there’s always an agenda behind female kindness!”

That was the last drop. Zoricah could feel her dragon stirring inside her, begging to come out and break his skull in two. “Get out!” She shouted. So much for teaching Yara about toning it down. “Get the fuck out of my balcony before I fry you to dust!”

She heard noises in the house. Great, she had awakened the girls – no! They were not “girls”; they were fighters, her fierce warriors – and yes, with a very important agenda, to save his freaking race!

Tardieh seemed to have heard them too. “I will leave, little goddess. But know this – I will know of every step you take inside my territory.” He gave her one last look over and dematerialized.

Damn it! So that was why he had bitten her! Despite popular folklore, vampires could not track down someone just from drinking their blood. But they could sense whenever that person was close by. The foreign blood acted as a kind of a biological alarm clock for the host. Stupid Zoricah! She should have seen through his intentions; she was an experienced fighter and strategist, that was an affront to her intelligence! And she fell for it like an inexperienced teenager. What was happening to her? She wasn’t like that, she did not let any male, of any species, make her lose control of the situation, let alone lose her cool! And there she was, panting and worn-out from yelling her head off at Tardieh.
“Zoricah, is everything alright?” Yara was at the door pointing a 9mm Heckler at everything in front of her. Her eyes were filled with worry and determination. “I heard you shouting.”

Zoricah took a deep breath. This was not the way of a good leader. It was certainly not leading by example. She would not allow Tardieh to mess up with her head or with her plans. “It was nothing, Yara. Thank you for coming down and checking up on me, though.”

“Oh, well, I was just finishing my snack when I heard the shouting. Was it a male who was here?”

“It was no one, believe me – no one.” She found her knife that had slid under the sofa in the mist of her ridiculous pashing session with Tardieh. “Let’s go to bed, honey. Tomorrow we will bring Deirdre back even if the Apa Dobrý descend upon us themselves!”

Yara gave Zoricah a satisfying smile. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Tangled and Bound - Emily Ryan-Davis #BDSM #EroticRomance

Tangled & Bound By Emily Ryan-Davis
A Taken in Bondage Erotic Romance

Friendly, adventurous, sexually submissive...and a complete stranger. She's exactly the anonymous, no-consequences diversion fetish-club owner Sam needs to kick off a few days in Las Vegas. He doesn't hesitate to take her up against the door of the in-flight bathroom.

Powerful, dominant Sam could have walked straight out of one of Melanie's dog-eared BDSM novels. When he strikes up a conversation on a late-evening flight, fictional fantasies become knee-weakening, panty-soaking, feminine-core-clenching reality. And oh-em-gee, does she want another taste of that!

When Sam informs her that his plans don't include a long-term D/s relationship with an impulsive young blonde for whom submission is more than likely a passing whim, Melanie throws herself into convincing him she's exactly the submissive lover he wants, needs and can't live without.

Available from:

Chapter One


Halfway into her non-stop flight from New York to Las Vegas, Melanie Burke started to squirm.  Her restlessness had nothing to do with her tiny middle-of-the-row seat and everything to do with the muscular, denim-clad thigh touching her bare leg.

The thigh belonged to a man she’d noticed hours earlier while waiting to board. In a sea of people wearing jeans and t-shirts, he’d stood out, and not because of his scuffed cowboy boots and oversized belt buckle. Well, not only because of those. While the whole Texas horse wrangler look was out of place in LaGuardia, he certainly wasn’t the only man doing the Western thing. He was the only one doing it well, though.

The nice ass and hand-tooled boots weren’t what had her snapping a surreptitious pic and forwarding it to her BFF, Brooke, who was a self-proclaimed expert in all things BDSM. Something else was.

Something about him declared, “I’m in charge”. Ever since she’d gotten wet while reading a BDSM-themed novel earlier in the year, Melanie had become a sneaky people-watcher, looking for the whole “in charge” vibe Dominant men apparently put off. When she’d despaired ever finding her Dom, Brooke had advised her to chill and wait. According to Brooke, Melanie would just know. She was on the verge of giving up and going back to her normal sex routine of grad students and bar crawlers, but then she saw him.

During boarding call, she’d covertly watched the way he stood apart from the crowd even while standing in the middle of it. Her attraction to him was inexplicable. The cowboy look really wasn’t to her taste. She went for guys with more of a GQ look. He didn’t exude sophisticated power like the heroes of her dog-eared novels, either, but he did take her breath away. Some part of her she was just discovering wanted to kneel at his feet and gaze up into his eyes from below.

When she reached her assigned seat on the plane, she was both startled and thrilled by the coincidence that booked him in the seat next to hers. Now, as she turned the page of her book, a “mommy porn” title on every national bestseller list, she snuck a peek at her in-flight neighbor’s face.

Pale, grass-green eyes met hers. Caught in the act of looking, startled by the fact she’d caught him in the act, too, she quickly shifted her focus back to the book spread across her fold-down tray.

“Good book?” Her neighbor’s voice wrapped around her, warm in the too-cold cabin. She pressed her thighs together as her simmering arousal cranked up a notch.

“Most of the world seems to like it.” She glanced up to find him still watching her. This time she was prepared for the intensity of his examination and managed to maintain eye contact. She even did a little looking of her own, mostly in the form of a closer inspection of his dark-blond evening stubble and full lips. Those lips quirked while she studied them. They would be fantastic between her legs.

As if he had access to her little fantasy, his smile widened.

“I’m not interested in most of the world. Do you like it?” He reached over, closed the book, and turned it so the front cover showed. “Who would’ve thought a simple neck tie would become so iconic?”

“It’s a very striking cover,” Melanie agreed. But totally disinteresting to her now. As far as visuals went, he had all her attention. His shoulders dominated the narrow seat. She seriously wanted to climb astride his lap and put her hands on him. Maybe rub up against that big belt buckle. And she wanted to beg him to keep talking. The Midwest meets New York accent was weirdly fascinating.

“The question still remains whether you’re enjoying the read.”

“It’s crazy popular--“

“Yes or no?” He interrupted.

Heat flashed through her. Blinking rapidly at her body’s response to his demanding inquiry, she managed to say, “I’m not sure.”

“There’s a simple way to tell.” He leaned close and spoke directly into her ear. “If you’re wet right now, you’re enjoying the book. “

The powerful confidence of his voice stirred something low in her abdomen. She was wet before his lips brushed her ear. Now she felt soaked.

“Answer me, honey.” He touched her chin and tilted her head at a slight angle. Callused fingertips settled on a spot just below her jaw. “Your heart’s racing, but I don’t think you’re scared. I think that book has you so hot, you’re dying to slip your hand into your panties.”


Want more like this? Join Emily Ryan-Davis’s newsletter today for access to subscriber exclusives, contests, new release news and more. To subscribe, go to and click the “Contact” tab.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Soul Sucker BookBlast @Kate Pearce

Today I'm hosting Kate Pearce as part of her Super Book Blast for Soul Sucker. Enjoy the excerpt and don't forget to leave a comment. Kate will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N GC, winner's choice, to two randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

Follow the tour and comment for a better chance of winning. The tour dates can be found here:

Soul Sucker
by Kate Pearce


Supernatural Branch of Law Enforcement empath Ella Walsh sucks memories from people's heads. The job fills her mind with others' nightmares and leaves her with little time for love, but if she doesn't pair off with a mate of the government's choosing soon, the psychic blowback will destroy her powers and her sanity.
The last time shapeshifting SBLE superstar Vadim Morosov worked with an empath, he got her killed and himself assigned to a desk. He worries about taking on another partner, but helping Ella track down an empath killer might be his only chance to save his career.
Naturally, the government decides to throw them together.
They resist at first, but they can't deny the simmering heat between them. As the killer's strikes grow closer to home, their bond gets tighter. And when the murderer finally traps Ella, her developing link with Vadim might be the only thing that can save her.



Ella stopped walking and faced him. “Look, are you programmed to disagree with everything I say, or are you just totally obnoxious?”
“Probably a little of both.”
“Then get over it. I’m already tired of having to argue with you all day.”
“You could try agreeing with me for a change.”
She started walking again. “Right. Like that’s going to happen. We’re obviously not meant to be best buddies, okay? So let’s do what Feehan said and try to get along at least on a professional level.”
“You prefer to keep things professional?”
“Of course.”
“You don’t date your colleagues?”
“Why, are you trying to summon up the courage to ask me out?”
He laughed, displaying a dimple near his chin. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners and he looked so damn sexy Ella almost wanted to smile back.
“For the record, Morosov, I don’t date.”
“Why not?”
“Because...” She glared at him. “I don’t owe you an explanation, do I?”
“Not yet.”
“Wow, you really are over-confident.”
“Not at all. As your colleague, I’m just concerned about your well-being.”
“I have men, I don’t date them.”
He nodded. “So you’re afraid of commitment.”
“My life will probably end at twenty-seven.” She looked up at him. “Would you subject someone you loved to that?”
Ella regretted the words the moment she said them. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her.
He let out his breath. “Probably not.” He reached out and took her hand. “I apologize.”
She flinched as his magic shot through her. “I knew you weren’t quite human.”
He shrugged and released her hand. “I’m many things.”
Text Copyright © 2012 by Kate Pearce
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. ® and TM are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Award winning author, Kate Pearce was born into a large family of girls in England, and spent much of her childhood living very happily in a dream world. Despite being told that she really needed to 'get with the program', she graduated from the University College of Wales with an honors degree in history.
A move to the USA finally allowed her to fulfill her dreams and sit down and write her first romance novel. Kate is published by Signet Eclipse, Kensington Aphrodisia, Ellora's Cave, Carina Press, Cleis Press and Virgin Black Lace/Cheek.
you can find her at:
Twitter as Kate4queen
Buy Links:
Barnes & Noble:

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

#Guest @StormieKent * Battling Rapture *

Today I'm welcoming Stormie Kent who has a new release with Ellora's Cave.

Thanks for having me on your blog Gale!

            In my new EC release, Battling Rapture, I have space ships, aliens, cool gadgets and two characters who have volatile chemistry from the first moment their eyes meet across a crowded game of cards on a casino moon. Their attraction is destined from the start. Can it last and will it help them each overcome the scars of their past? Take a peek at the sparks between my heroine and hero, Niki and Rhine. 




Niki is captured by hostile aliens after Earth is invaded. Once a soldier, she is now a slave. She is sold to the highest bidder, and then lost in a game of cards to a tall Ordanian spaceship captain, who claims to have been sent to rescue her. They work together to survive the dangers of the United Universe, while Niki battles her desire for the only man to ever enflame her mind, body and soul.

Captain Rhine’s mission is to reunite the Earth woman with her family. Outmaneuvering beast shifters and a crazed stalker are the very least he is willing to do to keep her by his side. Her touch ignites his passion. Her scent drives his lust. Her strength eases his soul even as she challenges him every step of the way. In the end, Rhine understands, the biggest battle is for her heart.




The following excerpt is for those readers who are 18 and over only.
Copyright © Stormie Kent, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.


He pushed a button on the captain chair controls and turned to Niki. He stood. He observed her tense body and intense expression. She gazed back at him. Hostile was too mild for this woman.

“What?” she asked.

His next move wasn’t going to make her any more docile. Before he could think too much about it, he snatched her from her seat and cradled her in his arms. He ran his hands over her back as he made sure to slide her along his front.

“What the hell are you doing? There isn’t time for you to feel me up, you perv.”

She pushed against his chest. Her struggles to free herself helped accomplish his goal and enflame his senses at the same time. Her full breasts pressed and jiggled against him as he clutched her ample ass. It was enough to make him forget his true purpose.

He caught her wrist before her palm connected with his nose.

He spun her away quickly. “I needed my scent to be fresh on you.”

She watched him through slit lids. He forced his eyes from her heaving breasts and focused on what was important. Her wide leg stance and fisted hands. He knew how fast she was. She wasn’t as quick as him, but she could do a lot of damage if he happened to be distracted, which he was. He sidestepped her first pass, moving away from the fist that almost struck his jaw. His right hand deflected her side kick and he used his left hand to grab her arm and jerk her around so that her back was flush against his front.

He crushed both her arms to her sides and jerked her away from anything she could gain leverage from with her feet. He couldn’t resist pressing his face to the crook of her neck and inhaling. Somehow their little sparring session was arousing him more than it angered him. He jerked his face back quickly as she turned her head to bite him.

“Calm down. You will be among strong hypersensitives who won’t believe I own a level one exotic and haven’t touched her.”

“Warn me next time, asshole. I don’t like surprises and I definitely don’t want to be manhandled.”

He leaned close to her ear and spoke softly. “You lie.” Her nipples were hard against his arms and the sweet spice of her pussy clouded his judgment. His cock pressed against her back. Her struggles stroked him nicely. “You call me Sir in alien company.”


Want more? Click the link for another excerpt.

Happy Reading!
Stormie Kent


Monday, March 25, 2013

Whoo-hoo! I'm going to Thailand.

Anyone who knows me, knows how anxious I've been to visit Thailand. Ever since I wrote One Night in Bangkok, it's been my dream. The more research I did, the more I fell in love with Bangkok, but the timing was off.

This year the stars are aligned and everything is coming together. Spike, my diabetic cat is in remission and not getting insulin shots any more. The taxes are done and we haven't been totally skewered. And an early registration discount on a guided tour was too cheap to pass up. I'm not usually big on tours, but we'll be flying in early and leaving a day late, so we'll have some time on our own. And I do think sharing this experience with a group will be fun.

It feels like a freakin' dream, but I don't have to pinch myself to know it's going to happen. There's a big non-refundable chunk out of my savings account that makes it all very real. The furthest I've traveled is England and Wales, which I loved and hope to visit again one day. But now we're flying halfway round the world, yep, 180 degrees, to the hottest city in the world.

The trip is a long way off, but I already dug out all my old research and bought 3 travel guides. I am so psyched! If anyone wants to do some armchair traveling, I'll be posting more as the time gets closer. And of course there will be lots of photos. Right now, I'm going to watch The Hangover Part II.

And here's a look back at the book that started it all.

The temperature in Bangkok is a humid ninety degrees but things are about to get a lot hotter. David Elliot is in Thailand on business but when he meets Kai, the younger man turns his world upside down. It was never meant to be anything more than a pleasant diversion but can he walk away when it’s over?
Available at Amazon:

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Sex in the great outdoors: Smut Alfresco

Smut Alfresco
edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Sex in the great outdoors is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Includes stories from: Violet Fields, Demelza Hart, Victoria Blisse, Jacqueline Brocker, Wendi Zwaduk, K T Red, Tilly Hunter, Bel Anderson, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Jenny Lyn and Nicole Gestalt.

Other links added here as they become available:


Being Free

By Lucy Felthouse

Violet slammed down the lid of her laptop with far more force than was necessary. She flinched, thinking perhaps she might have cracked the screen or broken one of the machine’s internal components. Then she shrugged, realising she didn’t care if she had. It was her work’s computer, after all, not hers. If it was fucked, they’d have to replace it. And it would serve them right, too. Bastards.

The reason she was pissed off was the fact she was in work at all. It was Saturday, and the previous afternoon her useless boss had dumped a project on her, stating it had to be finished by Monday, no matter how long it took. He’d then added that he was going away for the weekend, meaning it was all down to her. The selfish, disorganised wanker. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she hadn’t had a pay rise for two years, and when she went above and beyond for her job, she didn’t get so much as a thank you, let alone be paid any overtime. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, either.

Well, fuck them. She wasn’t going to be a doormat—or her boss’ scapegoat—any more. Let them try and sack her—she wasn’t doing anything remotely wrong, and they couldn’t make her working life any more hellish than it already was.

She stood up sharply, sending her swivel chair careening backwards across the room until it hit the wall. She shrugged again, she still didn’t care. Let it chip the fucking paintwork, or a bust a hole in the plasterboard. No one else was there, so nobody could prove or disprove that it had been an accident.

Pausing to switch the lights off—she was pissed off at her employers, not the environment—she left the offices, setting the alarm before closing the door behind her. Stuffing her access swipe card into her handbag, she heaved a sigh of relief. There would probably be hell to pay for her stunt on Monday, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she was just desperate to get out. Into the countryside, or, given she was in central London, to a green space, at the very least.

From where she worked, Green Park was probably the closest, but she figured Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens were bigger, so she’d be more likely to find a secluded spot where she could just be by herself. The last thing she needed now was to have to deal with other people.


Friday, March 22, 2013

The Symbiotic Mates return

My series, Symbiotic Mates is being re-released by Siren Publishing. Book 1, Hunter and the Hawk has been revised and expanded and will be out next month. I just got the new cover and I'm showing it off for the first time. A big thank you to Harris Channing who did the art work. The blurb is below. Enjoy!

Symbiotic Mates: Hunter and the Hawk

Vampire-hawks and wolf-shifters have two things in common—hatred for each other and dwindling populations. Both species are headed toward extinction. One vampire has the secret to survival—if he can get the lycans to cooperate. But when vampire, Aidan Longshadow walks into the Wolf Den looking for the alpha, he's barely through the door before he’s attacked.

Hunter Black, a lycan enforcer, comes to his aid and questions him. Aidan offers to trade information about the murder of Hunter’s mate for lycan blood. At first, Hunter thinks it's a trap, but Aidan convinces him that the answer to both species survival may lie in their blood. Hunter agrees to secretly help Aidan in exchange for the killer’s name, but he gets more than he bargained for when he finds himself falling for the seductive vampire. When the research goes awry, he’s sure he’s been used by the scheming bloodsuckers. But is Aidan the real enemy, or is it someone closer to home?
Happy Reading!

Thursday, March 21, 2013

#GuestBlogger: K D Grace *Kinky Boots*

Today I'm excited to welcome K D Grace. Her books are always on my TBR list and I can't wait to hear more about Kinky Boots.


In Possession of Boots!

By K D Grace

Thanks so much for having me over today, Gale! It’s always a pleasure to visit your site! And today I want to talk about something near and dear to a woman’s heart. Yep, that’s right. I can almost hear your pulse rates increasing as you wait … for … it …

Today, I want to talk about BOOTS! Love ‘em, want ‘em, have to have ‘em!

During and after the writing of Kinky Boots, I found myself with an uncontrollable urge to look at pictures of boots, to notice the boots people on the streets were wearing, to fantasize about the kinkiest boots imaginable. Mind you, I’ve always loved boots, and my love of boots has an added dimension to it in that I’m a long distance walker. I periodically go into all the local outdoor shops and fondle the women’s walking boots – especially the blue ones. And while I’m having a fondle, I imagine where I’d walk in those boots if I could walk anywhere I wanted to.

My sexier boots, I save for outings to London or some other place where K D Grace gets to strut her stuff. I usually wear them in places that DON’T involve much walking because those boots are made for strutting and looking minxy, not walking. But they DO look nice.

And because boots are just about one of the coolest things on the planet, it’s not surprising that my imagination would run toward boots that are, well of course kinky. That goes without saying. But the boots in Kinky Boots, the pair that Jill Heart buys anyway, are not only gorgeous and sexy, but they come with that little something extra. Jill’s boots come fully-equipped with Eleanor, a lust demon! Here’s a blurb and a little teaser from Jill’s boot-buying experience. 


After a sizzling encounter in KINKY BOOTS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?


‘May I help you?’

She looked up to meet the questioning gaze of the store clerk, and couldn’t hold back a little yelp at his unexpected nearness. He glanced at the killer heels, which she still held in one hand, then down at her feet and offered a knowing smile.

‘Just thought I’d stop in for a look.’

She tried to slip gracefully back into the shoes, but he took them from her hand. ‘Leave them off.’ The slight gruffness of his voice was deliciously tactile, rubbing up against her like raw silk. ‘I can see your poor feet need a break.’ He motioned for her to follow him into the bowels of the store right in deep between the high racks of shoes and boots and sandals and mules and old and new and quirky and just plain strange. And in the midst of all the funky, freaky, fantastic footwear, there wasn’t a single pair of trainers or Uggs or Crocks to be found. He guided her to sit in a Queen Anne chair upholstered in pale blue chintz.

‘Are you alright?’ He knelt in front of her and sat the shoes down next to the chair.

‘I’m fine,’ she said. Then she offered a nervous laugh ‘Other than my feet.’

He settled back onto his heels. ‘When women come in here alone at this hour, they’ve usually come over from Juno or the Office after an argument with their bloke. Of course there are a fair few who’ve simply had enough dancing the night away in ill-fitting shoes.’ He offered her a smile that made her feel warm down low in her belly. ‘There’s a reason I keep my shop open after hours on weekends.’ He nodded down at her aching feet.

‘It was a girls’ night out,’ she said. ‘That’s why I’m alone, I mean. We got separated.’ He didn’t need to know that her friend was getting shagged and she wasn’t. ‘These aren’t even my shoes. I borrowed them from my friend Vivie’ She nodded down to the little red feet killers. ‘Well, she insisted, actually. And the skirt too.’ She felt stupid for telling him that. Could she make it any more obvious that she was clueless when it came to fashion and dressing to impress the opposite sex?

He glanced fleetingly at the skirt, and she was suddenly aware of just how short it was, and just how much he could see from his position if he really tried. ‘The skirt, I like,’ he said. ‘However, wearing another person’s shoes is not a safe thing to do.’ The lines of his face hardened. His lips were suddenly set tight as though he were warning her about a serial killer on the loose. When he smiled up at her, his eyes reminded her of the sea that lapped at the cliffs around Tintagel neither blue, nor grey, nor green, none of those colours, yet all of those colours.

The clerk lifted her right foot into his hand. She tried to squirm away but he held her firmly flashing her a concerned glance from under a drawn brow. ‘You could have seriously injured your feet walking around Shoreditch at night in someone else’s shoes.’

The skirt she wore was a denim mini, and the way he sat between her legs made her feel exposed, vulnerable, and something a lot more yummy. As he ran his thumbs up her instep and over the pad of her foot, she shifted in the chair sliding down to accommodate his inspection.

‘Shoes are so important. They protect our feet, our soles, the only part of us that regularly contacts the earth. They allow us that intimate connection with our planet while at the same time keeping us safe from it.’ He continued his inspection of her feet, hands moving gently over her arch to the ball then to her toes as he cupped her heel in a warm hand. ‘No two people’s soles contact the earth in the same way.’

Her pulse thudded at the enthusiasm of his little speech which, along with his gentle inspection of her feet, felt shockingly intimate, even more so than if he had actually peeked up her skirt. His actions were having a cumulative effect low between her hip bones. ‘Maybe you could sell me something a little more suited to me.’ Her words rushed out breathless and unsteady.

He placed both hands on his thighs and looked up at her. ‘Did you have a pair in mind?’

She gave a quick glance around the store, and her eyes lit on a pair of mauve boots that came up just over the ankle, low on the calf. They sported delicate kitten heels and were threaded with sage green laces that looked more like ribbons, ‘How about those,’ she said. Then she blushed fiercely. They were lovely, elegant, and any idiot could see, totally not suited for someone like her. ‘Or maybe something a little more practical.’ She avoided his gaze. ‘A little less flashy.’

Ignoring her second thoughts, he stood and walked to the rack. She couldn’t keep from noticing how nicely his butt filled out his jeans. She could imagine that arse had sold more than a few pairs of shoes to women who liked a good view. It was then she realized he had taken the boots straight off the display. ‘I’m hard to fit,’ she said as he knelt in front of her and unlaced one boot.

‘Trust me--’ he smiled up at her, opened the boot and offered it to her like Cinderella’s Prince Charming ‘-- I can fit you just fine.’


K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Book two, Riding the Ether, is now available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, book one of her Executive Decisions Trilogy is now available.

Find K D Here:

Monday, March 18, 2013

#Release - The Perfect Dom @Lucy Felthouse

The Perfect Dom by Lucy Felthouse

Four kinky and erotic BDSM tales from the smutty pen of Lucy Felthouse.

Balancing the Books
Philip’s a well off man, and doesn’t need a job. But when he sees the gorgeous owner of his local bookshop, he applies for the role that’s being advertised there immediately. He’s totally stricken by the stunning Giovanna, and when it turns out she wants to boss him around in a sexual sense as well as an employment sense, he has no intention of refusing.

Feeling the Heat
Taylor and Maisie’s car has broken down. Luckily, Taylor’s handy with engines and is working hard to get them back on the road. Unfortunately, Maisie is getting annoyed at the amount of time he’s spending in the garage and confronts him. Instead of arguing back, though, Taylor comes up with an ingenious plan to keep Maisie quiet.

The Perfect Dom
Part of Mia’s nightwear is a pair of hotpants with SPANK ME emblazoned across the arse. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but when she forgets that she has a houseguest and heads to the kitchen for a drink, she’s shocked to find Alex in her living room. Immediately spotting what he sees as an invitation written across Mia’s bottom, Alex makes an offer and Mia soon discovers that he is, in fact, the perfect dom.

Meet Me at the Spanish Steps
Darby is working at a holiday camp on the outskirts of Rome and is getting along just fine, with the exception of her sex life. For various reasons, she’s not getting what she wants in the bedroom, and her tastes are very particular. She turns to the Internet to get what she needs, and when she discovers William, it seems that he’s more than willing—and capable—of scratching that particular itch.

Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.


“Spank me. Is that an invitation?”

Shit. Mia had completely forgotten about him. Her flatmate, Katy, had asked if it was okay if her brother could stay on their sofa for a couple of nights. His own place was being fitted with a new bathroom and conditions over there weren’t exactly tantamount to hygiene. Mia had been rushing around in order to get to work and hadn’t really been paying attention, so she’d just agreed and then promptly forgotten.

Now, however, she was being treated to a huge and incredibly embarrassing reminder. Katy was on a nightshift at the hospital so when Mia had woken up at 9p.m.—her own body clock being on that of working in the club, though tonight was her night off—she’d deemed it safe to wander to the kitchen to get a drink in what she was wearing.

Big mistake. Alex was sitting on the sofa, an eyebrow quirked and a leering grin on his face. He held his iPad, and earphones hung around his neck. He’d obviously been watching a film or playing some ridiculous game before Mia had flipped the light on and sauntered through the living room in nothing but a skimpy vest and hotpants. The hotpants were, of course, what he was referring to. The fuchsia garment had SPANK ME emblazoned across the ass in large black lettering.

Mia gave Alex a look that would have turned a lesser man to stone. He, however, simply grinned even more widely, then said, “Well? Do you need a firm hand to that luscious butt of yours? Like a spanking, do you?”

Mia sighed. “Shut up, Alex. It’s none of your business. I’m just getting a drink. Get back to your damn gadget and leave me alone.”

“Oooh, someone’s defensive. I’m just saying, you must have them for a reason. A statement like that printed on your backside would definitely be construed as an invitation in my book.”

“Well, maybe it is an invitation, Alex. But it’s certainly not directed at you. Now if you’d kindly stop passing judgement on my non-existent sex life I’ll get my drink and get out of your way.”

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: