SWAP

SWAP
One woman's mad crush on her brother-in-law spirals into a red-hot affair / SWAP / by H K Carlton

Friday, 29 June 2018

Release Blitz - Knowing Her Place [The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, bk 3] by Kay Jaybee #erotic #bdsm #kink


There's no better way to kick off the long holiday weekend than with the fabulous Kay Jaybee and celebrate the re-release of the third book in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy

🇨🇦Happy Canada Day Weekend, Peeps! 🇨🇦





Miss Jess Sanders has come a long way since she first took the role of admin clerk and book keeper at The Fables Hotel in Oxford.

Her elevation to a position within Mrs Peters adult exclusive adult entertainment team on the fifth floor of the hotel took everyone by surprise- especially Jess herself.

Now, an experienced submissive, Jess has some decisions to make about her future- but first she needs to get home...


Kay Jaybee was awarded an Honouree Mention at the 2015 National Leather Association Awards (in the Pauline Reage Novel Category) for “Knowing Her Place”



Full of unanswered questions after her erotic fairytale experience at The Retreat in Scotland, Jess Sanders is desperate to return to her submissive position at the exclusive Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire.

Having been thwarted in his plans to keep Jess, The Retreat’s owner, David Proctor, isn’t willing to let her go without sending the so-called ‘perfect’ submissive on one final mission. Only if Jess succeeds in the task he sets her, will Proctor remove the collar of servitude he has locked around her neck.

With a list of five unfamiliar addresses to hand, Jess is placed in a car and driven away from The Retreat towards England. With no idea of what, or who, awaits her at the each location, all Jess can hope for is that the journey will eventually take her back to where she belongs.

To the fifth floor of the Fables Hotel, where Miss Jess Sanders truly knows her place.




...Running her little finger along the outer edge of the collar for a second time, Jess fought back the constant reflex to choke. It was so tight. There was no way it could be cut free without damaging her skin.

David Proctor had forced Jess into his collar, declaring her his property unless she proved herself worthy of release. He was the only one with a key to the little silver padlock that held the tight band together at the front of her neck. Even if she did manage to prise the leather free somehow, as the car left the never-ending A9 that tracks the east side of Scotland and joined the motorway, Jess could hear Proctor’s warning words echo in her ears when she’d threatened to call Mrs Peters …

“If you call her, that collar is never coming off. There is only one key and I have it. And before you think it can be cut off, it can’t be done. Not without hurting you. Anyway, if you did get it cut off, you’d have failed, and part of you would always remain mine. I can’t see Mrs Peters liking that very much; can you?”

Jess hated that he was right. Her boss wouldn’t have liked it all. She tried to tell herself that Mrs Peters would come to her rescue – but she physically and mentally shrank back from wondering what the cost of making such a request of the Fables’ mistress would be.

Unbidden, her mind slipped from thoughts of her boss to Miss Sarah. She tried to ignore the increase in her pulse rate, and the automatic swell of her breasts that the image of the tall, slim, demanding dominatrix always caused. For a split second, while they’d been together at The Retreat, Jess had begun to hope Miss Sarah cared for her beyond the requirements of work.

Jess knew, although she would never have been foolish enough to say so out loud, that she had formed a strong emotional attachment to the woman who dominated her body day after day in the pursuit of other people’s pleasure. Sometimes she trusted that her personal feelings towards her mistress were genuine but, on other occasions, logical thought took over. Jess told herself, for the umpteenth time, as she looked out in the night, that she’d probably adopted some sort of warped Stockholm Syndrome feeling to Miss Sarah; like a victim falling for her kidnapper....

It had been Miss Sarah who Mrs Peters had ordered to train Jess when she’d first joined the team at Fables. A training which had included a vigorously kinky, and highly effective, exercise routine that gave Jess immense stamina; teaching her how to remain motionless for prolonged periods of time, and how to delay an orgasm for as long as humanly possible.

At first, Jess had been terrified of Miss Sarah. She’d suspected the dominatrix resented her arrival, especially when Mrs Peters began to refer to Jess as her “perfect submissive.” This was a title Jess now understood had been designed precisely to provoke her, and force her to work even harder for fear of not living up to her requirements. It had nothing to do with Mrs Peters thinking Jess was good at her job –although Jess hoped she did.

But she sent you away … Jess shook her head sharply. Mrs Peters couldn’t have known Proctor had planned to keep her. She couldn’t possibly have been in on this from the start. Her boss had been conned by Proctor. They’d all been conned.

Trying to force away the paranoia that threatened to take hold as she sat, a prisoner in the back of an ostentatiously posh car, Jess attempted to reassure herself by recalling how many times Mrs Peters had stressed prior to their departure from Fables that she and Miss Sarah would be returning.

Only moments before they’d been taken away to Scotland, Jess had taken part in a mock-up of a most unusual version of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. It had been a rehearsal for a very adult birthday party that was to take place in just over a week’s time. The mere memory of what she’d gone through during the rehearsal made Jess’s pussy clench with desire. She longed to get back to Fables in time for the clients’ party – as Mrs Peters had promised she would.

Staring through the car window now, Jess searched her memories of her days at The Retreat for further reassurance that Mrs Peters had not betrayed her. On two separate occasions while they’d been in their bedroom in the castle, Miss Sarah had warned Jess to believe nothing Proctor said. She’d told Jess that he would probably tell her Mrs Peters no longer wanted her at Fables; and that he would be lying.

That was exactly what had happened. But was it a lie? Jess couldn’t help letting doubt creep in as the night sky began to give way to the first glimmer of dawn. Why had Miss Sarah been allowed to go home and not her? Proctor had a submissive of his own. A girl called Alisha, who was more than willing to fulfil his every whim. He didn’t need Jess at all. This was pure spite.



Available from: 
Amazon UK

You can find all the buy links for The Fifth Floor (Book 1) and The Retreat (Book 2) here- 

The Fifth Floor - https://wp.me/P75ZDl-u9



Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has over 180 erotica publications including, The Retreat- Book2: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2018), Making Him Wait (Sinful Press, 2018), The Fifth Floor- Book1;The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2017), Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector (KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress), 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk  


You can follow Kay on

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Wednesday, 27 June 2018

Blog Tour + #Giveaway - Weapons of Redemption - by Saloni Quinby @katehillromance #mm #PNR


Weapons of Redemption 
by 
Saloni Quinby

Saloni is offering a $15 Amazon GC to one lucky winner during the tour. The winner will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for a chance to win so be sure to follow along with the blog tour. You may find the locations for the rest of the tour here.

About Weapons of Redemption:

Five men, enslaved by a vampire pirate and forced to do his bidding, rebelled against their master and earned the wrath of a monster. Now, while plotting to destroy the man who, centuries later, still thinks he owns them, they use their powers to protect other victims.

Whips and Chains: In a seedy underworld of sex and violence, a serial killer is stalking men and Guy is called upon to find the murderer. Ryan, a professional Dom known as the Beast Tamer, specializes in meting out pleasure and pain to oversized men. Is the sexy young man with a mysterious past the next victim — or the killer?

Sword and Shield: Rule coped with his abduction by the vampire pirate Tarun by cutting off his emotions. After centuries of self-control through punishment, he found a man who finally reached his heart. Now it’s up to Rule to save his former lover, but once he sees Joel again, will Rule be able to resist him?

Cloak and Dagger: When police detective Bryce Tarunson arrests a man who looks just like his lover from two thousand years ago, he’s pulled closer to the vampiric master he hates. The bond between Bryce and Shane forces them into a battle that might end in the destruction of the Weapons of Redemption.

Marksmen: Ansley and Brayden were stolen as boys by the hated vampire pirate, Tarun, to work aboard his ship. As men, their friendship blossomed into a deep, undeniable love. In the final battle between the vampire pirate and the Weapons of Redemption, Ansley and Brayden’s love for each other will either save or destroy them.

Fangs and Floggers: To lure his rebellious blood children back into the fold, ancient vampire Tarun abducted the hunter Adrian. He hadn’t bargained on his human prisoner being a match for him in every way — including his darkest desires. Though Tarun warns Adrian he won’t like what he hears, the hunter is determined to uncover the secrets of the vampire’s twisted past.

Publisher’s Note: Weapons of Redemption includes the previously published novellas Whips and Chains, Sword and Shield, Cloak and Dagger, Marksmen, and Fangs and Floggers.


Buy Links:
Ebook:

Paperback:

Excerpt:

Guy released a breath as he let his whip fly. It struck his old friend, Ruliff, or Rule, as he preferred to be called. Rule stood, his hands suspended from manacles dangling from chains overhead.

Even if Rule screamed, no one would hear him, deep in the cellar of this mansion owned by their vampiric kin, Ansley and Brayden. Rule wouldn't scream, though. It wasn't in his nature to show what he believed to be weakness. To drag more than a groan from Rule, Guy would be forced to practically kill him and his sessions weren't meant to cause permanent damage. They had already been at it for longer than usual, even for someone with a supernatural constitution.

Five more times Guy struck him with strategically placed blows before he paused and approached Rule. Using the handle of his whip, he traced an especially fierce-looking welt on Rule's sweat-slicked back. Rule had a tremendous capacity for pain. Always had.

Guy recalled the days when they, along with Brayden, Ansley and the fifth member of their "family," Bryce, had sailed with Tarun, a genuine monster. The five men had shared a strange and violent past, one that could have destroyed them, but together they had overcome it. Still their days at sea with the vampire pirate -- the master who had tried to mold them in his image -- had left scars on their souls as well as their bodies. These sessions with Rule reminded Guy of how strong yet vulnerable they all were, even if they refused to admit it.

Rule could be stubborn to the point of stupid.

Guy tightened his hand around the whip and struck Rule again with a blow that would have had most men screaming. A strangled groan escaped the tall, dark-haired man and Guy curled his lip in disgust.

He loved the whip and was an expert with it. Like his vampire kin, he had taken what he'd learned about pain and battle from their hated master and made it a form of expression. They had ultimately used their skills to fight back, not only for themselves but for victims who crossed their path. Each of the five men had mastered certain weapons. Guy's obsession was the lash. From bullwhips to floggers, all were slaves to him, bringing pleasure or pain as he saw fit. His love of leather had melded into every part of his life, including sex. He used his floggers to pleasure and punish, sometimes separately, sometimes both at once.

Long ago, Guy had honed his skills on his willing brothers, except for Bryce, who refused to submit to anyone, even for fun. Only Rule to this day came to Guy for regular sessions. Guy decided this one had gone on long enough. He knew Rule would push himself past his limits. He needed a strong but sensitive Dominant who knew when to stop.

Glancing at Rule, Guy noted that he seemed to be in a trance. His blue eyes were narrowed to slits, his lips parted and his breathing shallow. Wet black curls clung to his perspiring forehead and neck. Blood trickled from his lower lip where he'd pierced it with his fangs.

"Our session is over for today," Guy said without room for argument.

Rule ignored his authoritative tone and said in a deep, hoarse voice, "More."

"Your name might be Rule, but you don't rule here," Guy said.

"Fine. Release me then."

"Not until you calm down."

"I am calm."

"You forget how well I know you."

Rule's cool facade snapped. Bellowing, he yanked at his bonds.

Now he screams, Guy thought, but he knew it was probably a good thing. Rule wouldn't allow Guy to comfort him like some clients enjoyed after a session. Guy worked mainly with supernatural beings -- vampires, wizards, and even an occasional werewolf paid well for him to tease and torment them with his leather and chains. But even those creatures had a tender side. Rule's was buried deep and Guy hoped that eventually someone would reach it.

Despite Rule's impressive strength, he couldn't break the chains. Guy's survival often depended on knowing how to properly bind supernatural beings.

Guy placed his whip next to a heavy purple flogger on a table covered in red plastic. He'd clean his tools later. He was about to clean Rule's back when his cell phone rang.

He knew who it was by the ringtone.

He picked up the phone and said, "What's up?"

"It's Bryce. I need your help. It's business."

Although the five men had different careers in the human world, their true purpose was to protect those in need. The weapons they had once used as criminals were now their means of redemption.

Bryce worked as a police officer in the city. Sometimes he called upon his brothers to help him resolve crimes in which the human world could offer no justice.

"What does he want?" Rule asked, having ceased his rampage when the phone rang. "Is there a case for us? Let me go!"

"Do you have Rule strung up in the dungeon again?" Bryce asked.

"Yes. I'm putting you on speakerphone."

"You don't have to. I can hear him quite well," Rule said, straining to look at Guy over his shoulder.

Though keen senses were an advantage of vampirism, the speakerphone would make a three-way conversation easier.

"I've been working on what we believe are serial killings," Bryce said. "You've probably heard about them. The media calls them the Bodybuilder Murders. We've found a common denominator and, Guy, I believe you can get the evidence I need. Will you help?"

"You have to ask?" Guy said.

"Can you use me?" Rule asked.

"Right now this is a one-man job," Bryce said. "But thanks."

Rule looked a bit disappointed, but with all the trouble in the world, he was sure to have another case to work on soon.

"Guy, can you meet me in an hour?" Bryce asked.

"Absolutely. Where?"

"Stay put. I'll come to you."


About the Author:

The child of a painter and a psychic dreamer, Saloni Quinby feels spirituality and storytelling go hand-in-hand. She loves the scent of gardenia, the sound of wind chimes and the taste of honey. By listening to what isn’t said, she creates works based on unspoken desires. Saloni prefers blurred gender lines and many varieties of romance. In a world where passion must at times be restrained, she believes erotica is a pleasure to be shared. With her stories she would like to make her fantasies yours and hopes you enjoy the ride. She also writes under the name Kate Hill. Please visit her online at:




Tuesday, 26 June 2018

Release Blitz - Batiste [Cajun Devils, bk 1] by Victoria Danann #NewAdult #MCRomance

Batiste Tour Graphic
BATISTE
New York Times Bestselling Author Victoria Danann
Batiste
Series: Cajun Devils Book 1

Genre: Contemporary MC Romance, New Adult

Publisher: dba 7th House, Imprint of Andromeda LLC

Publication Date: June 24, 2018

What would he do to get her back? Anything.

Ça va mal. Ça va pas bien.

New York Times bestselling author, Victoria Danann, begins a HOT new MC romance series spinning off SSMC. You're gonna love it. For true!

Take a journey into the exotic culture of bayou country in Louisiana's Lafayette and Acadia parishes. Cajun beauty, Angelique Bellefeuille, has had enough of bikers and their bullshit. Being put in danger because of her father's motorcycle club makes that conclusion rock hard solid.

When she's sent to an allied club for protection from a rival club, she's reunited with her childhood friend, Just Batiste. Only he's not the cute, fun, adventurous kid she remembers. He's large, in charge, and menacing.

The last thing Batiste needs is a woman to interfere with the project giving his life purpose. But Fate has her own sense of timing. Angel is distraction and frustration walking around in the form of a little girl grown into a mind-numbing,curvy, blue-eyed devil.

Just when Batiste thinks he can't get more frustrated with the little troublemaker, she’s kidnapped by the very people he's supposed to be protecting her from. What will he do to get her back? Anything. He vows he’ll either have her returned or personally initiate Armageddon.


Purchase Links

PROMO PRICE: Available for 99 cents only! Ends August 1, 2018.

Excerpt

When Angie went back to her room she took a couple of bottled waters so she wouldn’t have to go hunting in the night.
Batiste hadn’t returned from whatever biker intrigue was occupying his time.
She supposed she was fortunate to have a room with an adjoining three quarter bath. She took a shower and towel dried her hair, but left it damp. She’d sleep cooler that way. Around eleven she turned off the lights, crawled on top of the cotton sheets and lay still listening to the night sounds of the swamp. After a few minutes a light rain added its voice to the lullaby of crickets, cicadas, and frogs and she felt herself drifting.
She was dosing when the door opened and someone came in. As she was sitting up, she heard Batiste and, was that nails on the floor?
“No worry, cher. It’s me. And dogs.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Takin’ care of you.”
Her eyes had adjusted to the low light so that she could see he was spreading a sleeping bag on the floor.
“You’re not sleeping on a wood floor.”
“Looks like I am.”
“You’re taking this protection thing kind of seriously.”
She heard the rustle of nylon as he lay down on top of the sleeping bag, but he didn’t answer. There was no more to say about that. Nothing was more serious than keeping Rou’s girl safe. He had two dogs trained by the SSMC, worth a fortune, and a loaded nine millimeter pistol loaded within easy reach. That, and the fact that he wasn’t likely to sleep too soundly on that floor, meant the woman couldn’t be safer if she was locked in Fort Knox.
It was hard knowing she was close enough to reach out and touch, but it was also the easiest feeling in the world, knowing she was close enough to reach out and touch. If he was sappy, he might have said it felt meant to be. He wasn’t sappy. Not at all.
At least that’s what he told himself as he robotically stroked Belle’s fur and stared toward the ceiling. The sound of the rain was comforting. Partly because that’s rain’s gift and partly because villains rarely get up to mischief in the rain. Maybe, he mused, they’re like that old wicked witch in Oz and don’t like getting wet.

About Victoria Danann

OVER ONE MILLION BOOKS SOLD
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Victoria Danann
Knights of Black Swan - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES (2013, 2014, 2015, 2016)
A Summoner's Tale - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL (2013)
Moonlight - BEST VAMPIRE/SHIFTER NOVEL (2013)
Solomon's Sieve - BEST VAMPIRE NOVEL (2014)
Falcon - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL (2016)
Simon Says - BEST SCIFI/FANTASY ROMANCE NOVEL (2017)
D.I.T. - BEST SCIFI/FANTASY ROMANCE SERIES (2017)
In addition to the brave and beautiful vampire hunting knights, Victoria writes other paranormal romances that often touch on scifi/fantasy along with contemporary bikers for those who love it when the bad boys are soooooo good.
Victoria co-hosts the popular ROMANCE BETWEEN THE PAGES podcast which can be found on itunes or at http://www.romancecast.com. She and co-host, Riley J. Ford, interview the biggest names in romance every week. Ever wonder about the personalities behind your favorite books? Some of them just might surprise you with their interests, wit, lifestyles, and sense of humor.
Victoria's signature humor ("Everybody was staring at me because I was on the subway in fits of laughter and couldn't stop!") creeps into each and every book whether she intends it or not. But the heart of Victoria's books is romance, the real kind that lasts and lingers like a charge in the air. Forever.
The rich characterizations and quirky personalities that readers so often comment about come from being a lifelong student of behavior - casually (love to people watch), and a serious student of behavior academically. She has also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.
Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.

Giveaway

WIN SONS OF SANCTUARY MC BOX SET
Batiste Giveaway Graphic
Prizes up for grabs:
Five (5) Sons of Sanctuary MC Box Set (eBook)
Contest runs from June 25 - July 1, 2018.

In partnership with
Book Unleashed Logo

Monday, 25 June 2018

Release Blitz - Caged [The Gaia Chronicles #3] by Grace White @GraceWhiteBooks #UrbanFantasy #Romance #ReverseHarem


Title: Caged 
Series: The Gaia Chronicles #3
Author: Grace White
Genre: Urban Fantasy romance (reverse harem)
Publication Date: June 25th, 2018
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR



Blurb:

With Atchison College deemed too unsafe, Terra Materson finds herself whisked away to a safe house; a short-term solution while the guys figure out their next steps. But her safe haven becomes Terra’s worst nightmare.

As Gaia’s power grows stronger by the minute; Terra’s feelings towards her four protectors become more confusing than ever. While she doesn’t want to lose herself to the ancient goddess inside her, Terra knows Gaia’s memories hold the answers they seek.

Sol, Endo, Cael and Ross are convinced the risk of her fully connecting with Gaia is too high and insist on searching for another answer. But they have underestimated one thing: Terra’s resolve.

Because she’s finally ready to fulfil her destiny. Whether they want her to or not.



Buy Link:
Cursed




Grace White is the paranormal pseudonym of romance writer, L A Cotton.

She resides in the UK with her family, and lives for binge watching series on her Firestick, losing herself in a good book, and reliving her younger days through trashy teenage movies ... not necessarily in that order.


Author Links: 




Friday, 22 June 2018

Blog Tour + #Giveaway - Wolf Around the Corner - by Aidee Ladnier #mm #shifters #PNR


Wolf Around The Corner
by 

Aidee Ladnier

Aidee is giving away a $5 Amazon GC, $10 Amazon GC, Ebooks from her backlist, print books from her backlist. The winners will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Don't forget you have a chance to enter every day so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.

About Wolf Around the Corner:

Frank’s family taught him that his wolf was dangerous, unwanted. Now his best friend’s brother wants him in bed and on stage. But giving into his wolf’s need for love could risk the quiet life Frank has created for himself—and his heart.

Settled in the small town of Waycroft Falls, Frank is content to be a lone wolf among the white picket fences and dollar book bins until he finds himself sniffing his best friend’s brother. Tom smells like hot apple pie and his Broadway smile has Frank lolling his tongue. But when the visiting actor learns Frank’s secret and plies him with hot kisses to get him to star in his play, Frank can’t help but wonder if Tom is only acting.

Tom ran away from family obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging home to Waycroft Falls to open his sister’s new performance space brings him face to face with a werewolf—a werewolf that would be perfect for Tom’s shoestring production of Beauty and the Beast. Staying in Tiny Town USA would be worth it if he can somehow convince the sexy wolf to expose his furry condition on stage and howl privately in Tom’s bed.

Wolf Around The Corner, a paranormal semi-finalist in Passionate Ink’s 2017 Sexy Scribbles Contest, is a full-length fairytale romance with a side of wolf shifter. If you like your romance with gorgeous men, humor, and small town magic, you’ll love Wolf Around the Corner! Buy your copy now and settle in to watch the drama unfold!


Genre: M/M Paranormal Shifter Contemporary



Buy Links:

Excerpt:



The first thing he always did was take a large lungful of air. It reoriented him to the outside. His animal cataloged the smells—car exhaust, grass, tree pollen, and wait, a mouse skittering in the Dumpster out back. Frank’s urge to run built. He circled the apartments, looking for the storm drain near the landscaping wall. Inside him, his animal wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being freed. Frank shucked his clothes behind the wall and tucked them into the shelter of the pipe, out of view. Then he shifted, his hands lengthening, hair sprouting, and muzzle growing. His point of view shortened, now three feet from the ground as he blinked through the eyes of his wolflike animal. Frank couldn’t stand still any longer. He sprang into the woods.

Frank ran, crashing through the underbrush and into the darkening shelter of the trees. He leaped over a shrub, felt the give of a sapling as he plowed through the brushwood. The animals and birds quieted at his loud, headlong dash, knowing he wasn’t of the forest, only disguised and playing at being a creature of the wood.

His paws skidded on a pile of old leaves. Frank almost lost his balance as he skipped up and over a fallen log. Around him, the scents of the forest all pushed in on him. Here a whiff of mold, there an astringent sniff of decay, everywhere the menthol of evergreen sap and wild herbs growing scattered on the forest floor.

Dry twigs snapped beneath his paws. His tongue lolled from his mouth, the fresh taste of the woods painting the back of his throat. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky inking the tops of the trees. And Frank ran on until his limbs stopped, shaky and trembling. He collapsed onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, moss and fungi cradling him as he panted.

As he caught his breath, the sounds of the woods lapped back around him. Insects and birds first. A harsh caw from a crow shrieked a hundred yards to his right. The chirp of a cricket sawed a few feet away. The rat-a-tat of a woodpecker echoed above. And the still of twilight calmed him.

When he’d rested enough that his legs would support him again, Frank began the slow jog back to the apartments, letting his nose guide him through the darkening visibility of the woods. He could smell Mrs. Reynolds’s nighttime cocoa, and Mr. Reynolds’s liniment that stank of capsaicin. The lighted windows of the apartment building led him the last few feet, and he scurried up to the storm drain.

But his clothes weren’t there.

The sky darkened into night.

Frank knew Mrs. Anderson was out, but he could try to get the elderly Reynolds couple to buzz him inside. And hope they didn’t ask why he was naked trotting up the stairs.

Or he could stay in wolf form without a tag, which meant a night outside running from animal control and/or dodging every human that would mistake him for a stray dog.

Or wait, a third option. There was an oak that almost reached the ledge of his apartment window on the second floor. He never bothered to lock the window. Frank shifted back to human and sprinted across the yard.

He leaped for the lower boughs of the tree, grunting as the bark dug into the flesh of his palms. Frank swung himself up to straddle a branch, regretting it as the rough wood scraped his thighs. He crouched in the tree, awkwardly trying to shield his more delicate parts from the smaller whiplike twigs. He skirted around the trunk, grimacing as a low branch brushed a little too close to his groin. There. He was now on the side that faced the apartment house.

Frank balanced upright, his arms pinwheeling until he caught another branch higher up to steady himself. The leaves around him shivered on their stalks, the rustling loud. Please don’t let Mrs. Reynolds look out her window.

Using the taller branch as a guide, Frank placed one bare foot in front of the other and inched away from the security of the trunk. The limb beneath his feet shook as his weight tested its strength. He slid a foot farther out on the branch. It dipped, the leaves at the tip brushing against the side of his window. Just a few feet more.

An ominous crack sounded beneath him, and Frank froze. The branch popped again. It wouldn’t hold. He could make a jump for it. Frank swallowed hard. He should make a jump for it.

Frank jumped. And missed the house, falling into the azalea bushes.

Just as his hunky new neighbor from across the hall walked out of the apartment building and down the front steps.

Frank had seen Tom in the hall that morning, carrying boxes. Trying to be neighborly, Frank had introduced himself and offered to help. Tom had turned Frank down but flashed the whitest, most even teeth at him. Frank had seen nothing whiter outside of a movie theater big screen. They’d exchanged pleasantries, commented on the weather, and then gone their separate ways. Or rather, that was what Frank wished had happened. What went down was:

“Need help?” Frank barely got the words out when his new neighbor turned in the doorway. Frank froze. God, the man was gorgeous.

“Naw, man. I got it.” Tom shifted the box in his arms to hold out his hand. “I’m Tom Davidson.”

Frank wiped a clammy hand on his jeans and shook Tom’s hand. “Hot.” And Frank knew his mouth had disclosed the exact thing his brain was thinking. Idiot. Who said that to a guy he’d just met? A guy like Tom already knew he was hot.

Tom tilted his head as if he hadn’t heard Frank right. “Yeah. The temperatures are a little warm for this time of year.”

Frank didn’t dare correct him and kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say something worse.

“Okay, well then, see you around, Frank.” Tom chuckled and continued into his apartment.

Meanwhile Frank beat it down the stairs, unsure how he managed not to walk into traffic as his mind ran over the exchange fail again and again.

So yeah. That was the less than stellar first impression he’d given Tom this morning. And now Frank followed that up by hunkering down naked in the azalea bushes.

“Are you okay?” The gleam from the safety light caught Tom’s dark gold hair as he tilted his head to peer over the shrubs. The shadows sank into his chiseled cheekbones. He looked like a brooding movie star ready to sweep a celluloid damsel off her feet.

Too bad Frank was a naked man trying to keep from exposing himself. Frank crouched down farther, making himself as small as possible, hoping the azalea’s pink blooms would distract Tom from looking at his hairy backside.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Tom leaned closer. “Are you… Do you have any clothes on?”

Frank racked his brain for some reason he’d be naked and hiding in the bushes. “Um, I, uh, just got out of the shower, and I leaned too far out my window.”

“Oh my God. Did you fall from that height?” Tom glanced up to the second floor, to Frank’s closed window and then back down. “Do you need an ambulance?”

Frank sighed. This conversation was only getting worse. Cupping his hands over his privates, Frank rose from behind the bushes.

“I’m okay. Just need to get back inside. I have a hidden key if you can get me past the front security door.”

Tom’s eyes widened when Frank stood. Frank winced, sure he looked like one long scrape covered in leaves. He blew at the hair in his eyes. A twig dangled, caught in an auburn strand, but Frank was unwilling to expose himself to yank it out.

“Sure. Sure.” Tom fumbled for his key and opened the door. Frank half hopped over the acorns and chestnut burrs to slide past Tom. Tom wrinkled his nose as Frank passed. Good old wet dog smell. It always clung to him after a run in the woods.

Frank took the stairs two at a time to escape.

After a shower and shave—why did going furry always lead to needing a shave? The rest of his hair receded. Why didn’t his beard?—Frank spent thirty minutes in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to psych himself up to knock on Tom’s door and invite him over the next day for coffee or to watch football. He scratched behind an ear, feeling the healing scab from a graze he’d gotten when he’d fallen into the azalea bushes. Staring at his reflection, he tried to look earnest and approachable. He could do this. He had game.

“Hey, I know you don’t know many people in town, and I’m a loser, but would you like to spend time with me?” Frank made a face at himself. Probably shouldn’t label yourself as a loser.

“Yo, you want to watch football? No, how about basketball? Baseball? No? What about Mexican wrestlers?” Oh God, what if Tom doesn’t like sports?

“I ordered two large pizzas by mistake tonight, and I could use some help, or I’ll be gorging on pepperoni for a week.”

Lame. Frank’s own gaunt features stared back at him from the mirror. Who was he kidding? He’d always be the guy who lost the genetic lottery and ended up with the family curse.

Galen’s syndrome was rare, only affecting about one in 2,000, but well-known enough that most people had at least heard of it. The Greek surgeon Galen had coined the word lycanthropy to explain the shape-shifting curse that traveled down through a family tree. Like most recessive gene disorders, it only manifested when two genes were passed down to a child, leading early scholars to think the afflicted had been re-cursed or spared for a generation due to divine providence. It was only with modern medicine that curses were found to be attached to DNA, breaking and molding chromosomes like magical radiation. But despite better understanding of the disorder, the stigma remained, not helped by the occasional local television feature linking the disorder to werewolf mythology.

All Frank knew was the recessive curse gene made him even more different from his family. He’d already been pushing it when he came out as gay. Turning into a wolf at sixteen had been…well, more than his father and stepmother could handle. She wanted to protect the kids, she told him. He loved his half siblings, didn’t he? It wasn’t safe to have a wild animal around children.

It had gutted him. They turned him out of his own home. He’d been angry. He’d done something stupid, lashing out, snapping at his sister Robbie. It still hurt, remembering the tears on his baby sister’s face, her eyes wide and scared. Of him. It was then he knew his stepmother had been right. Dangerous animals didn’t belong in a family. So he’d left, traveling all the way across the state until he landed in Waycroft Falls. It had been hard that first year. There were a lot of adult things he still hadn’t figured out.

Like how to ask out a guy who he hadn’t known his whole life. Moving from one small town to another had been a bad idea. Frank bonked his head against the mirror, gazing down into the white porcelain sink. He rubbed at a stray hair that clung to the side.

But on the plus side, small towns meant he rarely needed a car. And he could shift and run if he needed. He should take his clothes with him

About the Author:


Aidee Ladnier, an award-winning author of speculative fiction, believes that adventure is around every corner. In pursuit of new experiences she's worked as a magician’s assistant, been a beauty pageant contestant, ridden in hot air balloons, produced independent movies, hiked up a volcano, and is a proud citizen scientist. A lover of genre fiction, Aidee's perfect romance has a little science fiction, fantasy, mystery, or the paranormal thrown in to add a zing.




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Thursday, 21 June 2018

Book Tour + #Giveaway - A Fine Line - by Sue Horsford @fingal1962 #bdsm #eroticromance

A Fine Line Tour Graphic
A FINE LINE
Sue Horsford
A Fine Line
Genre: Romance, Erotica, BDSM
Publisher: Totally Bound
Publication Date: November 22, 2016
No one would understand that my submission empowered me, that I felt stronger kneeling at Gabriel’s feet than I ever had standing at Paul’s side.

Faye Austin seems to have it all--a fulfilling career, a successful husband, a beautiful home. But appearances can be deceptive and sometimes Faye can’t help thinking she’s living the wrong life. A lifetime of being compared to her beautiful younger sister, Ginny, has left her feeling second best, and a chance discovery while looking at her husband’s laptop has led her to realize that her marriage is not all it seems.

Then she meets the handsome Gabriel Scott, a man who likes to play sexual games of power and control, and suddenly everything makes sense. Gabriel’s natural dominance is so compelling that Faye feels her own submissiveness awakening in response, a reaction that both horrifies and excites her. She works with victims of domestic abuse and is adamant that no man will ever tell her what to do. But there’s something about Gabriel that draws her in and gives her a glimpse of who she really wants to be.

Can Gabriel give her what she needs? Or will Ginny get there first?

Book Tour Schedule

Follow the book tour from June 11 - 23, 2018.
Visit each tour stop daily and discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and more! To check the latest tour schedule, visit the A Fine Line Book Page at Book Unleashed.

Excerpt

My jaws were forced apart by the gag and I couldn’t remember ever feeling so helpless.

“Good.” He fastened the leather straps around the back of my head. “I won’t leave you like this for too long today. I don’t want your beautiful mouth to get sore.” He gave me a slap on the ass. “This is about humiliation, not pain, so make a noise if you need to say your safe word.” With that, he crossed over to the armchair in the opposite corner of the room.

From my position bent over the box, I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his gaze on me. It was humiliating, being restrained like this, gagged at one end and plugged at the other, but it was also unbelievably erotic. I wasn’t safe, boring Faye Austin anymore. I was dirty, hard-core, Gabriel’s whore. I knew my pussy would be dripping for him. The edge of the leather seat was pressing against my clitoris and I tried to subtly rub against it, desperate for some relief.

Instantly, Gabriel was on his feet and at my side. “Is my baby trying to pleasure herself?” He spoke gently, as if he was sympathetic to my need, and I whimpered and nodded.

“And is she allowed to pleasure herself without asking her Master’s permission?” he asked. He continued to speak softly, but I knew I was in big trouble and I whimpered again as I shook my head.

He undid the straps of the gag and eased the ball from my mouth.

“What do you have to say to me?” he asked sternly.

I knew he was about to punish me and I knew it would hurt, but the thought of it only increased my excitement.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I said. “I’ve been a…a dirty slut.” I didn’t know where the idea to say that came from, but it just seemed the right thing to say.

“A dirty slut?” Gabriel sounded pleased at that. “Yes, you have been a dirty slut. And whose dirty slut are you?”

“I’m your dirty slut, Master.” I wondered whether it was possible to have an orgasm from words alone. I was certainly very close.

“That’s right, my little slut, my dirty little whore.” He took hold of the end of the butt plug, twisting it inside me. “What happens to little sluts who disobey their Masters?”

“They get punished, Master.” Suddenly I wasn’t playing anymore, if I ever had been. I was Gabriel’s little slut, his whore, his submissive. Whatever he wanted me to be, I was it. This was dark, but it was sweet and it was beyond beautiful.

“And what do you think I should use to punish you, slut? Do you think I should spank you with my hand?”

I hesitated and Gabriel fisted his hand in my hair and pulled my head up. “I’m giving you the chance to choose your own punishment, little slut. But be careful. If you don’t choose a severe enough implement, I’ll choose for you and I might choose something worse.” He leaned down so he could speak into my ear. “I’ve brought all the implements with me, and I do mean all.”

What a conundrum. Did I go straight for the serious stuff or try to play it safe? I tried to remember everything I’d seen hanging up in his cupboard. The crop and the flogger were for play, I knew that much, but what about the leather paddle? Was that enough?

I remembered the first time he’d punished me, that night in his bedroom, when I’d pushed against his fingers. The belt had really hurt but I suddenly knew it was what I needed.

“Please, Sir. I deserve the belt,” I said, my voice quivering.

“Good girl,” he said approvingly.

He went over to his bag. Then I caught my breath at the familiar sound of the belt, bent double, being slapped against his palm. He placed his hand on the small of my back. Crack! Gabriel brought the belt down across my buttocks so hard that, if I hadn’t been restrained, I would have jumped up.

“Owwww. One, Sir.”

He brought the strap down again, hitting exactly the same spot, and I yelped.

“Aaaahh. Two, Sir.”

Then he pushed his fingers inside me, moving them in and out and rubbing them against my clitoris. “You’re so wet, little slut,” he said. “See how wet you are.” He reached round and wiped his fingers on my face, smearing me with my own juices. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you, slut?”

“Yes, Sir,” I gasped.

He stepped back and the belt bit into my flesh, but this time I welcomed the pain. Pleasure…pain…it was all the same to me now.

“Three, Sir,” I groaned, then, “Oh, God, four, Sir.”

He thrust inside me again. I cried out with my need for him and he pulled his fingers out and held them to my mouth. “Lick them clean.”

Slavishly, I licked his long fingers clean, moaning with my hunger for him.

“How many more strokes do you think I should give you, dirty slut?” Gabriel asked me. His voice was deep, carnal, almost a snarl, and I knew he needed release as much as I did.

“Six, Sir.”

“Six it is, then.”

I whimpered as he put his hand on my back. He brought the belt down six more times and each time, I cried out louder than the last, partly from the pain but mostly from the sheer joy of being brought to heel by my Master.

When he finally released me from my bonds and the plug, I was sobbing, but Gabriel knew me well enough by now to know there was nothing wrong with me, and he simply caught hold of me by my hair, led me over to the bed, pushed me face down over it and fucked me from behind. It was quick, it was savage, but it was what we both needed
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About Sue Horsford

I am a qualified hypnotherapist and Reiki practitioner living in the North of England with my husband and soul mate. Over the years I must have started and abandoned over fifty novels before I decided to try my hand at writing erotica. Finally I had a finished novel and a new hobby all in one. I never realized writing could be so much fun!
Connect with Sue on Twitter

Giveaway

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