Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Kidnapped Hearts by Cait Jarrod

I’m excited to introduce my first book in the Band of Friends series, Kidnapped Hearts!

Everyone has a story. Here’s mine: My mother was an avid reader. She was the first woman in the US to hold the acting-editor position at a college, something I learned when we wrote her obituary. A year after she passed, I wanted a way to connect with her, to feel that she was still in my life, so I began to read. Before this, I only read for research, never for pleasure. I put pen to paper after I attended an author’s book signing at Romance Writers of America convention. A well-known author asked me if I was a writer. I said that I wasn’t creative, couldn’t do it. She smiled and said three magical words, “Sure, you can.”

Thus, the journey began. I wrote this book, then put it aside, and wrote ten more. In all, I wrote over a million words, which I have been told is the ticket to finding your voice. I had a very dear friend read over each of my chapters, but I needed more input. I joined an online critique group, Scribophile, in the summer of 2012 and quickly learned the art of writing.

By the end of October, I submitted to a few publishers and after hearing rave reviews about Evernight Publishing, I decided they would be the ones to help me continue this journey.
Small town girl and owner of The Memory Café, Pamela Young, regales in her life with her friends, aptly named the Band of Friends until her life is turned upside down with stolen bearer bonds mysteriously coming into her possession.
After a five-year disappearing act, Jake Gibson returns home retired from the FBI, and ready to make a mends with his estranged family. A freelance case falls into his lap, involving the woman he’d resisted years ago. He will do anything to protect Pamela, even put his life in jeopardy along with his heart.
Kidnapped Hearts – Buy now:

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Sorrow's Muse by Shyla Colt & Giveaway

Shyla Colt is a sassy stay at home mom who lives in Southern California with her Marine husband and two tiny tots. When she’s not crafting, teaching Abc’s, or playing make believe, she writes full time, and works a job in the publishing industry. As you can tell she thinks sleep is overrated.
A fan of romance from the moment she picked up her first paranormal romance at thirteen, she strives to provide you with stories that bring the heat, make you fall in love with the characters, and show the power of true love. She invites you to come and get lost in her world.

Comment Below for a chance to win a copy of Sorrow’s Muse. What is your favorite Greek Mythology story/character?

Sorrow’s Muse

But Colette was never one for rules so she strikes a deal with the goddess of love. She has one year on earth to tell Julian what she truly is. Then he must make his choice, her or his talent.


Badly scarred in a fire that took his entire family Julian Sorrow is bitter and twisted by rejection and ridicule. Convinced his ability to make music is all he has to offer he's given up on love.  Can the sexy, mysterious new neighbor, Colette Starvos change that?



The conversation continued to flow as they took turns popping their bags in the microwave and salting and seasoning the puffy yellow kernels they placed in a large bowl. Grabbing two colas, they headed out to the living room. They were halfway through Sweet Home Alabama when she slipped his arm around her shoulder. She turned her head to inhale the delicious scent that wafted off him. The warmth of his body heated her flesh and woke her desire. Colette leaned in and nipped at his ear. Her nipples hardened against the rough lace of her bra. He moaned, a deep, guttural sound that went straight to her core. The pressure built, and she sucked the fleshy bottom of his ear into her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“Making out—less talking, more kissing.”

She blazed a trail of kisses down his neck, spanning his chest with her hand as she admired his sleek build. He turned his head and captured her lips. Their tongues clashed. A pleased purr rumbled in her chest. Colette rose onto her knees and climbed into his lap, placing one leg on either side of his body. His cock pushed up against her in greeting, tempting her eager fingers. Her white skirt with a pastel flower scene flowed around them. She placed her hands on his shoulders and rocked forward, then backward, in a slow motion that pressed him against her engorged clit at just the right angle. His cock twitched, elongated, and swelled. God, he’s thick! She needed more contact.


“Touch me, Jay.” The nickname rolled off her tongue.

His breath caressed her neck as he leaned in to place tiny kisses on her pulse point and massage her lush mounds. “Like this?”

“Yes!” The feel of his hands moving over her was exquisite. He explored her with slow, thorough sweeps. His long, artistic fingers pinched her nipples, rolling them as he continued to grind up into her.

“You’re so wet, Col. I can feel you through my pants. You like what I’m doing to you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

He gripped her hips and swiveled in a circle. “How about this?”

Moisture flooded her panties, warm and sticky. Her breath came in pants as she edged closer and closer to the edge. So much for being the seducer. He might be slow to start, but when he did, he brought his A game. Her body trembled as he pushed her closer to her peak.

“I’m so close, Jay.”

“Let go, baby. Let me give you this,” he whispered against her lips.

He lined his length up with her cleft, surged forward once, twice, and she exploded. Her eyes clenched shut. She cried out and clutched her skirt as waves of pleasure washed over her. Spent, she slumped against his shoulder as she came down from her high. All this from no skin-to-skin contact!

Instead of sating her lust, it had ramped it up higher.

“I was supposed to be seducing you,” she whispered, her face on his shoulder.

“You succeeded. Watching you come apart in my arms, knowing I’m the cause, is satisfying to me.”

He placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, and she fell just a bit more in love with him. She wanted to move forward in their relationship, bring him pleasure the same way he’d given to her so selflessly. Colette ran her fingers over the soft material of his shirt and peered up into his eyes.

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Shh, I want to.” She scooted off his legs and knelt in front of him on the couch. His eyes were wide and his body shook as she unbuttoned the top of his pants and pulled the zipper down millimeter by millimeter, giving him plenty of time to call a halt to her progress. “I’ve dreamed about touching you, tasting you, for so long now it’s become an obsession.”

She looked up to make eye contact. His muscles were tense. His eyes were filled with worry and an expectation of disappointment that made her almost sick to her stomach. He is beautiful, damn it! She wanted him to realize it.

“The man who didn’t know I was alive, the hints I dropped none too covertly. It’s always been you, Jay.”

“Me—but why?”

She gave him a gentle smile. “Because you ask questions like that, which make you even sexier than you already are.”

She freed him from his cloth prison, and he sprang forth, quivering with anticipation. He was thick, long, and growing. His skin was discolored and uneven here like the rest of his body, but she made a show of being nonchalant. She bent down to lick the damp tip, and he twitched, offering up more liquid goodness. He was salty with a hint of pineapple that made her core throb. He’d been thinking about this just as much as she had.

“You taste better than ambrosia.”

Colette teased him with delicate flicks of her tongue as she learned his flavor and his hot spots. The prominent vein that ran down the underside of his shaft made him jerk and hiss. She returned to it often, following it like a road map as she gripped his base and marveled at the ten inches she held in her hand. She sucked him deep into her mouth and brought her hand up to meet her lips.

“Oh God, Colette!”


You can find Shyla on the web in the following places



Twitter @shylacolt


Monday, February 18, 2013

I'll Be Damned by Stella Berkley

For one night, love is enough to bridge the distance between heaven and hell.

In Devil Be Mine, Lucifer’s soul whore, Delilah, is tempted by her favorite submissive, Micah, an angel as pure as she is naughty.

 In Fire and Ice, heaven’s black sheep, Qenna, meets her match in Pyro, chaos incarnate and devilish charm in a designer suit.

In Raven, a reaper forces the Guardian, Mara, to accept what’s in her heart or say goodbye to her Raven forever.

In Hunting Pleasure, Lucifer’s Lieutenant, Selene, indulges in heaven’s highest ranking sentinels, Michael and Arael, who turn the hunter into the hunted.

And finally, in No Mercy, God’s right hand, Gabriella, must convince Lucifer to abolish the law standing between her brethren and their lovers.  To right a wrong she played a part in, Gabriella agrees to a private meeting with the object of her darkest fantasies—the devil himself.


Excerpt from Fire and Ice

Giant snowflakes drifted down around me, where I perched on the ledge of the war monument.  The wings of the stone angel at my back, along with the growing darkness, would mask my own silver wings from any humans who might wander through Centennial Park.

Beneath me, Micah, one of my brothers on high, walked by cloaked in a black trench coat and a fedora.

“You’re not going to Lu’s titty bar, by any chance, are you?” I shouted down to him while suppressing a snicker.  “Gabriella’s going to be pissed.”

Micah stopped and turned striking blue eyes up at me, cutting across the winter twilight like beacons.  “I—how did—it’s none of your concern, Qenna.”  He rolled his head until his neck cracked.  “What are you doing down here?  Gabriella told you to remain in the upper realm tonight since she’s with Him and Lucifer and can’t keep you out of trouble.”

No wonder she was so crabby earlier.  She totally wanted to bone Lu—it was written all over her every time someone mentioned his name.  I quirked up an eyebrow and shrugged.  “If you won’t answer me, why the hell should I answer you?”  I snorted and leaned forward, my long, white hair tumbling over the edge of the monument in spirals.  “And you’re one to talk.  She told you to stay put, too.”

His eyes darkened before tilting his head forward, obscured once again by the brim of his hat.  He gave a disgruntled huff.  “Just do us all a favor and keep out of trouble, though saying that to you is like telling a kitten to stay away from a dangling scrap of yarn.”  Micah continued in the direction he’d been going.  “Lucifer isn’t around to watch his kind tonight, so you’re on your own.”

“Say hi to Delilah for me.”

Micah’s shoulders hunched up, but he never turned back.  “And give my regards to Pyro.”


Buy I'll Be Damned Here:

Amazon | All Romance Ebooks | Evernight Publishing

Stella Berkley’s Bio:

Stella Berkley grew up in small town Ontario as a farmer’s daughter, usually up to her ears in some kind of trouble.  A career daydreamer, Stella has a vivid imagination and a love for fantasy, especially the dark and steamy kind.  Two of her novellas have been published with Cobblestone Press, and two novels by her tamer self were published last year.  When she isn’t writing, she hangs out with her husband and young daughter at their little house in the woods.
Website  |  Blog |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads 
Erotica By Stella

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Happy Valentines Day!


Valentine's Day gift ideas:

Chocolate by candlelight

A stroll through a Art Gallery

A trip to a vinyard for a wine tasting

A romantic dinner for two

A steamy book to read to each other
A cutttie to cuddle
A soothing massage
And always remember the most important thing is:

Happy Valentines Day!



Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Winner - Heartbreaker Blog Hop



She won, The Good Sister: Part One

Thanks to everyone to participated, and left comments.  I appreciate you all! Keep checking back for more fun hops, interviews, spotlights, and giveaways.


Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Given by Ashlynn Monroe

Given By AshlYnn Monroe

In a world without choices, one woman will find herself caught in the middle of six men and the emotions they develop for her.


Krista Damiani is one of the last women on Earth, and her patriotic duty is to make babies. On her twenty-first birthday, the government holds a lottery drawing to determine the men who will control her destiny. Her “six”, the men who win the right to call her their own, know they have to impregnate her quickly or risk losing her to a new “six”. 


As society fills with additional violence and unrest, her men keep her sheltered in a fortress of maximum security. When a mysterious man arrives and offers her the chance for freedom, will she be willing to leave the life she knows behind or will she remain “given”?


Content Warning: contains voyeurism, multiple partners, ménage and anal sex

"She's here." Jared's words came out in a whoosh of anticipation. They watched the black SUV with tinted windows as it pulled up to the front of the building. They stood in front of the grand capital tense, quiet—waiting.

A uniformed solider opened the front passenger side door and stood, surveying the crowd. He opened the back door. Max sucked in a deep breath and the sound broke the spell the other five men seemed to be under.

The crowd suddenly began shouting and the rabble of voices grew chaotic. The six men turned to watch a tall, grubby-looking man sprinting across the green grass of the capital lawn, running toward the SUV and their woman. A police officer tackled the man and the two rolled onto the ground. More officers swarmed the desperate man.

"I just want to touch her!" the wild-eyed man wailed as they cuffed him.
* * * *

Krista stepped out, and the screaming men frightened her. She saw a police officer tackle a man only a few yards away. She started to get back into the SUV, but one of the soldiers grabbed her arm gently.

"It's time, miss."

"I'm afraid."

"We'll protect you. It'll be all right. It's always like this on Giving Day. Don't worry. We will see you safely until you are under the guard of your private security."

This was everything she'd feared, only worse. She hadn't expected the protesters. Someone shouted the word "whore"; she knew the man's hateful word meant her. How any of them could think she'd asked for this was beyond her imagination.

Six young, well-dressed men stood in front of the steps of the large, white, domed building. They were looking at her with…possessiveness. The moment she saw them she knew that these men were her six, or more accurately, she was theirs.

Everything had been sort of slow motion, but then as the crowd grew more agitated, the soldiers quickly ushered her up the sidewalk. The governor didn't come out for the official ceremonial signing of The Giving right, too many threats to his life and ugly behavior had changed this day. As men who couldn't qualify grew angrier with the government, The Giving ceremony became less pomp and more circumstance; and the circumstance was, until they had the woman away from the crowd, they were all in danger. A secretary rushed out and handed the men the last of the paperwork to sign.

There wasn't a single introduction as the security, soldiers, and six young men surrounded Krista and rushed her around the corner and into a waiting limousine. They all hurried to get inside as the soldiers held back the men running toward them. Even inside the car, Krista could hear the angry shouting. The trunk slammed shut. Krista saw the driver slide into the front seat and the engine roared to life.

They left her alone. She sat down on the bed and air whooshed from her lungs. She shook a little due to nervous anticipation. Oh God, who should I pick? Choosing felt so very wrong to her. She may belong to these men for a long time, and the idea of alienating any of them, or getting off on a bad start, twisted her stomach in knots of nervous anxiety. She stood up and unpacked her few belongings. The closet looked so empty after she'd put her scant possessions into it. She began walking down the stairs and she heard their voices. Krista paused to listen, feeling a bit evil for eavesdropping.

"It's only right that she pick."

"We've all waited so long, shouldn't we draw straws or something?"

"For God's sake, she's a human being, not a new toy. Let the girl have her pick. We'll all have a chance."

"What if we all share her tonight? Then it's fair to all of us."

"It wouldn't be fair to Krista. If she was your new bride, would you want to pass her around to five other guys?"

"There's no more marriage, so the question isn't valid. The world isn't nice and romantic. The fact is, she'll have to sleep with all of us."

About the Author:

Ashlynn Monroe is a busy wife and mom. She enjoys writing about anything and everything paranormal or fantasy related. She spends most of her time daydreaming up her next tale of romance.
Connect with the Author:

Friday, February 8, 2013

Heartbreaker Blog Hop!

Welcome to my part of the Heartbreaker Blog Hop!
Do you love a heartbreaker? If so, I have one for you. Reid Addison from my 2-book contemporary erotic romance series, The Good Sister fits the bill.

Trinity Lane Winslow feared everything and lived her life vicariously through others. She dreamed of the impossible, yearning to be the kind of woman men desired—especially Reid Addison.

Reid Addison feared nothing, except how the mousey little blonde daughter of his housekeeper made him feel.  Even though Trinity Winslow wasn’t his type, there was something intriguing about her.

Lord Ashton Archer lived a fairy tale life with property all over the world, was heir to a ducal dynasty, and had women fawning all over him. Anything a man could want, he obtained by the snap of his fingers.

By a twist of fate the three of them find their way into the same illicit world of the infamous Madam Jacqueline Claudette Rousseau. But will they find what each of them truly desires? Or will they always long for the forbidden?



Reid let out a breathy low laugh. He placed his nose into the crook of my neck. “My room smells like you, baby bird. Soft French Vanilla and floral,” he confirmed before he traced his nose over the surface of my neck, smelling. Goose bumps splayed across my skin. I sucked in my breath, holding it. “I like how you smell. Tempting, so ... tempting.” I visibly shook. “Don’t worry. It will be our little secret. No one needs to know.”

     Perhaps this was how the fly felt caught up within the spider’s web. Reid possessed the ability to scare me with his razor sharp gaze, his intense body language, his low hungry voice, but it was somehow tantalizing at the same time.

     “There’s nothing to know,” I protested, once again closing my eyes because I was a weakling within his presence.

     I heard a breathy, “Hmm.” Reid moved closer. So close I experienced the heat of his body upon mine. “You could be pretty if you lost these glasses.” He reached out and pulled them from my nose, and placed them on the bed. “Look at me,” he demanded.


     “I want to see your eyes.”

     “I don’t…” I started to object. Reid reached out, turned me around, placed his hand beneath my chin, and lifted. “Um.” His liquid silver eyes met me, and I felt weak in the knees.

     “Whoa,” he said as he took a hold of my elbow to steady me, “you okay?”

     I blinked. “Ah huh.”

     “Look at me.” He lifted my chin again. This time he gazed deeply into my eyes. I thought I might die. “See,” he murmured, “you have beautiful eyes. Deep, rich green.”

     I tried to pull away.

     “No, don’t.” Reid traced his hand over my cheek, moving more curls before sliding his fingertips down my cheekbones, outlining the shape of them. “You have a pretty face, it’s just hid beneath all of your hair, those horrible glasses, and you never look at anyone. You keep this pointed little chin tucked down.” Reid’s fingers outlined my jaw, my chin.

     “Um…” I lost myself to the sound of his voice, and the touch of his skin against mine.

     “Such a pretty neck,” he continued. His hands roamed over the curve until he hit the bend of my shoulder. He moved more curls before clutching some of the miscreant strands into his hand. 

     Heat filled my cheeks. I imagined they blazed. 

     Reid’s hand rested, palm against my cheek. He stroked the pad of his thumb across the center of my lips. I trembled. His thumb nudged, persuaded my lips to part. He rode the swell of my bottom lip. The corners of his mouth twitched before turning up into a seductive smile.

     My usually pale face burned, as though his touch seared my skin, hitting the bone beneath. I wished I held the power he held. The confidence. The boldness. I didn’t want to be standing there embarrassed, flushed, timid, and scared. I wanted to be the one in control. The woman who would bring him to his knees. I wanted…

     Reid moved his hands over my shoulders, gliding his fingertips down my arms, sending goose bumps raging again. He slid his hands to my breasts. I stiffened, my body and nipples going rigid. Reid cupped both of them within the palm of his large hands. A buzz walloped me. My lungs burned in glistening shimmers, pulling in the air with a gasp. No one had ever touched me like this.

     “And these.” He gave a gentle squeeze. “Why do you hide them behind all of these clothes?”

     “I—” I welded my eyes closed.

     “Trinity. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.” My eyes fluttered open. Reid’s face looked different, ravenous. He licked his lips. “I bet your breasts are beautiful. Creamy white with rosebud tips.”

     For a split second I considered I may be in an alternative universe or maybe this was a dream, which seemed real or maybe surreal. What do I do? I came up with no real plan of attack. I’d always wanted Reid to touch me, but now, I wasn’t sure I liked it. Well, that’s not completely true because I liked it. I didn’t know how to like it without coming across as a weirdo.

     I twisted out of his hold, closed my eyes, and dropped my head again. My hands tangled so tight into the bottom hem of my shirt I felt my nails press into the bed of my palms.

     Reid tapped my hand. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.” I stopped the intense death grip I’d imparted upon my shirt.


     “Trinity, have I ever hurt you?”

     I mumbled. “No.”

     “You like watching me, but when you have my attention you are afraid of me. Why are you afraid?”

     “I’m not.”

     I’m not. It was more like intimidation. Reid intimidated me. Then there was my own anxiety and fear. I worried about so many things it was hard to pinpoint my exact fear when it came to Reid. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t possess the qualities of a desirable woman. I had anxiety about being with a man, not knowing how to touch a man. I was afraid my thoughts, my ideas, my fantasies were wrong. I feared what he made me feel, and knew he would break my heart. But most of all I lived in terror that he would leave, and I’d never see him again.

     “Look at me.” I looked up. “Trinity, have you ever been with a man?”

     I bit my bottom lip, hard.

     “Stop,” he said. He ran his finger over my mouth. “You are going to draw blood.”

     I relaxed my bite.

     “There,” he soothed, still tracing his index finger over the lines of my lips. 

      “Reid, why are you doing this?” My question came out in a whisper.

     “You don’t need to fret, Trinity. It’s a simple question. All you need to say is, ‘yes or no’.”

     He was definitely torturing me.

     “Yes or no,” he pressed.

     I took in a deep breath, kept my eyes open but diverted them as I confessed, “No.”

     “Have you ever been kissed?” he inquired, his face passive.


     Reid placed his mouth inches from mine. I stood there like a lifeless statue. Reid pulled back. He placed his fingertips to my pulse. It had to be vibrating wildly against his flesh. I licked my lips, nervously. 

     He won’t.

     “Can I kiss you, Trinity?”

     “I—” My sentence was stopped by his warm mouth. I stiffened.

     Oh God, he did.

Here's my inspiration for Reid:
** I'm offering one commenter a PDF of The Good Sister: Part One, just let me know what you think about a bad boy heartbreaker, and leave me an email where you can be reached. And if you don't follow my blog, I'd love for you to follow. **
THREE grand prizes. You as a reader can go to EACH blog and comment with your email address and be entered to win. Yep, you can enter over 200 times!

Now what are those prizes?

1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet
2nd Grand Prize: A $100 Amazon or B&N Gift Card
3rd Grand Prize: A Swag Pack that contains paperbacks, ebooks, 50+ bookmarks, cover flats, magnets, pens, coffee cozies, and more!

Remember to keep on hopping for more great giveways, and a chance at the grand prize!



Monday, February 4, 2013

Too Devious To Tame by Doris O'Connor

Thanks so much for having me here today J

Hands up who likes sexy Italian men? How about feisty heroines, dynamic family relationships, hot sex, and a haunting love story? How about we throw in some beautiful scenery with a generous dash of danger, and twists and turns to take your breath away and keep you on the edge of your seat?

You do, do you? Well, it just so happens that book three of my Giovanni Clan series, has all that and more.
I touch on some tough issues in this story and we seem to have jumped a heat level as a result. When Jemima's past catches up with her, it falls to cousin Giorgio to honor the promises he made in book two of the series. If you haven't read the previous books, don't worry, you'll catch up. The stories stand on their own. However, if you feel the need to check them out, don't let me stop you ;-)

Too Hot To Handle, book one in the series is reduced to just 99 cents for a limited time only, and it happens to have one very sexy firefighter in it.


To celebrate the releases of Too Devious To Tame I am giving one lucky reader a chance to win either of the first two books in the series. Winner's choice. Just leave me a comment J

Readers already familiar with the stories will recognize Jemima and Giorgio from book two. In Too Devious To Tame I delve into the mechanics of their relationship. These two have a past, and the choices they made come to haunt them in this book.

Will they make it through, and safely out of the tangled webs they've created?


When Giorgio Giovanni tracks the troublesome Jemima down in a hospital bed in Italy, he has one thing on his mind—revenge. However, the fragile woman he encounters is not the devious female he remembers. When it becomes clear that she is in danger, he risks everything to keep her safe.

Left for dead, Jemima wakes up in hospital, terrified, and with no idea of her identity. The angry man, who comes to claim her, is the only link to a shared past she can't remember. A past that threatens to destroy them, and all she has ever held dear.

With danger all around them, and their sexual chemistry off the scale, can they find their way back to each other, or is the past too devious to tame?




Tears clouded her vision at the concern in his voice, and he swore and moved to untie her.

"No, I'm fine, really. Leave it. Show me how it should be, please. Help me to forget."

He stared at her for the longest time, one large hand, hot and heavy on her belly, his gaze so intense it took her breath away.  When he finally smiled, it lit up his harsh features. She didn't catch the murmured Italian words he mumbled under his breath, but the kiss that followed had her curl her toes into the bed with the effort to not release herself from her bonds and bury her hands in his hair to make him hurry up and fuck her.

He was breathing as heavily as she by the time he released her, and she bit back a moan when he simply ripped the rest of her dress off her. Her bra and knickers followed the fate of her dress, until she lay in front of him naked, wet, and wanting. He ran his knuckles slowly up and down her tummy in ever widening circles, and then reached across to the ice bucket with a slow grin.

"Shut your eyes for me, cara."   His voice had dropped an octave, and her stomach dropped right with it, seeing him hold a couple of ice cubes in his fingers. She shook her head and bucked off the bed, when he flicked his hand over her breasts. Ice cold drops of water fell on her skin and trickled between the valley of her breasts. He licked the drops away, his warm tongue taking away the coldness left by the water.

"Shut your eyes, trust me. This will be so much better for you when you can't see what I'm doing." He kissed a path down her quivering tummy, and she blinked back tears at the tender way he caressed her abdomen. He paused to drop a long kiss just above her pubic bone, and his hot breath teased her wet folds. Her clit tingled, and she shut her eyes, as he renewed his request for her to do so. She couldn't see what he was doing, but the bed dipped as he adjusted his weight again. His hot mouth closed over one of her nipples at the same time as the other was subjected to an ice cube being circled around it.

She gasped at the intense sensation, and Giorgio swapped sides. The difference between his warm mouth and tongue and the ice cube sent her body into spasms of need. She writhed under him, and he laughed. Again and again he repeated the process all along her body. A path of ice, followed by the warmth of his tongue as he licked the icy trails away, leaving fiery awareness in its wake. By the time he finally reached her pussy, she was hovering on the brink of orgasm. She whimpered her need when he pushed an ice cube high into her channel and then proceeded to lick around her clit, careful to never touch her when she needed him most. The melting ice cube mixed in with her own juices and trickled slowly out her hole. Her pussy clenched, and she didn't recognize the needy voice pleading with him to please do something.

He blew against her slit and shouldered her legs wider.

"Così bello, e tutto mio."   He followed the words with a kiss, and she screamed when he pulled her clit into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, at the same time as he pushed another ice cube into her empty channel. Her walls closed around the slippery object, and spasmed wildly as the first quivers of her orgasm hit. Giorgio groaned into her core and stepped up his sweet torture on her clit. When he pushed two fingers into her core, and massaged her sweet spot, the intensity of her orgasm hit her with the full force of freight train.

"That's it, tesoro, fly for me." He caught her scream of release in his mouth, and she could taste herself in the passionate kiss he gave her, dimly aware of him withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. Thick, hard, and so very long he filled her completely as he pushed into her swollen core, until he was seated to the hilt. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her feet into his calves to give him better access and to take him as deep as she could. He started thrusting, every move driving him deeper into her, and tumbling her right over the edge again, as her inner muscles contracted around his thick member. Faster and faster he pumped, his harsh breathing in her ear the most erotic sound ever, his hands and lips seemingly everywhere, arousing every little bit of skin he touched until her whole body was a mass of sensation. Again her body climbed toward that peak of sheer joy, and this time Giorgio was with her every step of the ecstatic journey they took together. Her eyes flew open, and she drowned in the rolling depths of emotion she saw reflected in his, as they came together in their explosive release.

When her body finally stopped shaking, she could taste the salt of tears in her mouth. Giorgio kissed them off her face, and he released her from her bonds, and pulled her into his embrace. She had to smile at his grumbled, "If this is pretending, then I hate to see what will happen when we do this for real."


Author Bio:

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris... at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Find Doris on the web here:






Things Are Changing

Hi, everyone. Thank you for taking the time to stop by and reading the last post on this blog. Don’t worry, though, I’m not disappearing...