Always Cambridge

Always Cambridge
Follow the saga from the beginning... Always Cambridge

Thursday, 13 June 2019

New Release - OPEN [Lust, Love, and Darkness, 1] by Elyzabeth M. VaLey @ElyzabethVaLey #DarkRomance #bdsm


One day she’d be his.

Almost a decade ago, Marcus Grimes worked as a bodyguard to a man who didn’t deserve the woman he’d had. When she finally left, Marcus vowed to eventually find her and make her his.

The time is now.

Marcus runs into Gabi at a BDSM club, indulging in a different partner every week but never really exploring beyond the mere superficial. She doesn’t remember him, and he convinces her to give him a chance.

All she has to do is open.

After leaving an abusive relationship, Gabi moved cities and reinvented herself. Now, she’s confident and capable of playing with any Dom she sees fit without compromising herself or her emotions.

Until she meets Marcus Grimes.

There is something familiar about him, which should have stopped her, but instead spurs her on, and before she realizes it, Marcus is not only opening her body to his exploration, he’s also delving into her heart.

However, when their mutual past comes to light and everything she’s fought for during the last eight years is jeopardized, will she close herself off again or will she give love an opportunity?


Be Warned: BDSM, flogging, sex toys

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Excerpt:

Marcus sipped at his soda, wishing it were something stronger so his libido would subside. Who was he kidding? Looking at her would get him aroused regardless of the amounts of alcohol he drank.

She was perfect. Everything he’d ever fantasized about: luscious curves, ample bottom, tits which would fit his hands, and a mouth made for sucking and screaming out his name.

Gabi. Her last name was of no consequence. Neither was her first name. Years ago, he’d known her as Abby. What mattered was that when he made her his, he’d refer to her as “kitten”. He’d called her it once, by accident. The term had come naturally. Back then, she had been vulnerable, small, like an abandoned pet. Now, however, he stood in the presence of a different type of cat. She was graceful, strong, seductive.

Unfortunately, unlike cats, which tended to be more snobbish when it came to choosing an owner, Gabi played with just about everyone. She was a regular at the BDSM club where he’d found her. One night, he’d see her getting a spanking, the next, a caning, and another day, she was being whipped. There didn’t seem to be anything Gabi wouldn’t try, except sticking with the same partner. She had a different Dom every weekend, playing with them at a distance, never really giving in to the experience. He knew why, and he was determined to change it. Starting tonight.

Currently, she was tied to the Saint Andrew’s cross, and Master Eric was giving her a good flogging. The Dom played her like an instrument, knowing exactly where to hit to make her skin tingle but not bruise. Marcus scowled. When they played, he’d make sure to mark her so every time she sat down, she would remember him and how her body had yielded to her Dom’s touch.

Marcus downed the last of his drink and moved closer to the cross. It’d been close to eight years since he’d last seen her. Eight years. He sometimes thought they had been wasted years, but deep down, he knew they hadn’t. After what she’d gone through, she’d needed the time to heal and become the person she was now.

In all that time, he’d never stopped wanting her. He’d been incapable of erasing her from his mind even after he’d lost track of her whereabouts. And then, fate had thrown her in his path. He’d finally decided to join the BDSM community in the city, and he’d found her. Here of all places. In his city.

One look at her and he’d made up his mind. Gabi would be his. Permanently this time. He’d bided his time, investigating her present, trying to find out more about who she was today. Every weekend for the past month, he’d come to the club and watched her. He’d leave with a hard-on and a desperate craving to claim her.

Tonight would be different. Eric was almost done, each stroke of the flogger turning into a caress until it came to a full stop. Gabi shuddered and hung her head. Marcus stiffened. Was she okay? Eric seemed to think the same because he hurried forward and whispered in her ear. Gabi nodded. Eric chuckled. Giving her ass a light tap, he began to undo the restraints.

Marcus clenched his fists. Soon, he’d be the only one spanking Gabi’s behind. He waited patiently for them to finish. His heart hammered in his chest, and sweat gathered at his nape. He hadn’t been so on edge in years.

Finally, Gabi became free and turned around. Marcus’s breath caught. She wasn’t naked, but she didn’t need to be to get his dick hardening. He focused on her mouth. Wide with plump lips. How many times had he fantasized about having them around his dick? Fucking her mouth. Marcus swallowed a groan.

Soon.

Eric blocked his view, stepping in front of Gabi to give her a hug. She smiled politely, but there was no affection in her gaze. She was merely being civil. Marcus smirked. They wouldn’t end their sessions with a friendly pat. Finally, Eric left. Before Gabi could also leave, Marcus approached her. She saw him coming, her gaze narrowing and her lips parting into a coquettish smirk. He couldn’t wait to make it sincere.

“Gabi?”

“That’s me. What can I call you, handsome?”

“Marcus will do for now.”

She pouted, feigning disappointment.

“Shame, I thought you were a Dom.”

Marcus grinned. “I am.”

“And you don’t want me to call you Sir or Master? Do you prefer Daddy?” She ran her fingertips across his forearm making goosebumps sprout on his flesh. Marcus pulled away.

“If the men you’ve been playing with require you call them Sir after barely ten seconds of interaction, you’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”

She shrugged, her gaze dipping then just as quickly meeting his again.

“So, why are we having this conversation, Marcus?”

“I would like to play with you.”

Gabi quirked an eyebrow. “And you don’t want me to call you ‘Sir’?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I’m done for today, so maybe next time,”

He grabbed her wrist. Her eyes blazed.

“Release me.”

“In a minute, kitten.”

“Don’t call me that. I didn’t give you the right.”

“Forgive me,” Marcus apologized. “You’re right.” He stepped into her personal space, forcing her to tilt her head to look at him even though she wasn’t much shorter. “You have to understand, Gabi, I don’t want to play with you right now. I want to get to know you a bit before I make you kneel at my feet, open up that pretty little mouth of yours and stuff it with my cock until you gag.”




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About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters' darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she's not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends. 

Follow her at:


Wednesday, 12 June 2019

#PreOrder Blitz + #Giveaway - True Gold - by Michelle Pace @MichelleKPace #RomanticSuspense #Mystery

Title: True Gold
Author: Michelle Pace
Genre: Romantic Suspense, Mystery
Cover Designer: Michelle Preast
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Publication Date: July 2nd, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR



Blurb:

Growing up in True, Alaska, the only truth I knew was that Delilah Campbell was an arrogant pain in my ass. She was also my everything, and still haunts my every waking moment.

I don’t have a single memory that doesn’t include Lie, and I can still taste her, even though Alaska’s no longer big enough for the both of us. After our savage breakup, I fled, chasing my dream and becoming a decorated Green Beret. Ten years later, one bad jump propelled me straight from Special Forces back home, guiding rich idiots into the wilderness, where I struggle to keep them from getting themselves killed. It’s not the life I planned, but at least I’m not behind a desk somewhere.

Then one night, my cell rings, shattering my peaceful existence.

“Connor,” I’d recognize her voice anywhere, and it’s like I’m sixteen again, crazy in love and cocky as hell after finding all those gold bars everyone's been searching for since before we were even born.

I want to tell her to go to hell and throw my phone in the river, but it seems Delilah’s visceral grip on me is permanent.

“It’s mom. She’s missing. I need your help…."





Raised in small town Iowa, Michelle Pace is an international best-selling, multi-genre author. After studying theater and vocal music and directing and performing in numerous productions, Michelle went on to earn degrees in both liberal arts and nursing.

Determined to avoid shoveling snow, she relocated to the Lone Star State with her husband, author L.G. Pace III. Michelle is a mother of three, and she enjoys traveling, live music, and is an enthusiastic amateur beer connoisseur.

Still most at home while entertaining an audience, her mission is to write gripping fiction, not fairy tales.





“This is new.” I reach out to brush her tiny strap aside for a better look at the ink. The tattoo is an antique compass rose, the figure that displays the orientation of the cardinal directions on old maps. The design is actually really nice; a couple of roses and some leaves give the outer circle a wreath-like quality.

“Not really. I got it a long time ago.” Her voice is husky as my fingertip glides across her silky skin. Gooseflesh appears on her upper arm, and that gives me a thrill. “When I was like…twenty… maybe twenty-one.”

She turns around, and her hip brushes against the front of my zipper. I’d say the contact made me hard, but I was halfway there watching her from outside. She looks up at me, and though she’s had to crane her neck to meet my eyes since we were in middle school, it’s always felt as if she were the one looking down on me.

“I was dating the tattoo artist. I guess you could call it ‘dating.’” Her tiny eye roll implies it wasn’t one of her finer moments.

I tilt my head, my blood pumping something fierce between my jealousy at the idea that anyone else has ever touched her and her sheer nearness in this moment. “Oh yeah?”

She nods, and a macabre smile flits across her face. “He was tall. And a major know-it-all. Totally my type.”

I feel an appreciative smile working at my lips.

“Why didn’t you marry him?” It’s a bold and weighty statement and her mouth drops open. She searches me, and for a rare, candid moment, I allow it.

“He was mean.” I see something flicker behind those liquid amber eyes.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.” My voice is gruff, but I’m glad I spoke the truth. I’m even gladder for how solidly the blow lands, based on the way her perfect bow of a mouth turns down at the edges. In a surprising move, she lifts herself easily onto the counter so she’s sitting on it, and I struggle to keep my eyes off of her well-defined arms and that gravity-defying chest. “This doesn’t have to be ugly, Connor. Let’s have a beer. Catch up. Talk about old times.”

I say nothing, and her lips form a slanted smile. “We did have some good times, didn’t we?”

That’s for fucking sure.

I could step between her legs right now. Slip her panties aside and bury myself in her tight, wet heat. It would be as easy as breathing, and three-quarters of me is ready to take the easy route. I move to the far cabinets away from her, putting temptation at arm’s length. From there, I have an even better view, so I force myself to look away, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “No.”

“No we didn’t have good times, or no we can’t talk about them?” She sounds entertained.

I crack my beer and lock eyes with her. “We’re not talking about us.”

She’s completely unreadable now, and that puts me on edge. “Why not?”

I lean against the cabinet, sipping from my beer. “Because I’m not done being mad at you.”

She blasts an incredulous laugh and when I don’t respond in kind, her laughter dies, and she gives me another thorough once-over.

“You’re mad at me? You’ve got to be kidding.”

I tip back my can in response.

She lets out a sardonic chuckle, but she’s obviously pissed. “That’s rich.”

I wait for her to convince me that I shouldn’t hate her. She seems to be waiting on something too. Her smile, the one that isn’t really a smile at all, fades.

“You promised me, Connor. You promised we’d always be friends.” It’s nearly imperceptible, but her lip quivers. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but most people aren’t me.

I wrinkle my brow, squinting at her in amazement. “You were very clear, Lie. You said I should never contact you again. How’d you put it? Oh, yeah. You said, ‘Have a nice life.’”

Her shining eyes narrow into dangerous slits. Then, in a classic Lilah move, she wipes her expression blank, closing the shutters, blocking out any hope of peeping inside. “Fair enough.”

I should be glad we’re on the same page. That we’re slamming the door on all of that shit. Instead, I want to roar. Frustrated, I chug my beer. By the time I’m done, she’s chewing on her bottom lip. It’s a quirk of hers that I’ve always found sexy as hell, so it’s like a metaphorical kick in the nuts.

“I’m staying in my old room.” She’s either blushing, or she’s still coming down from the crisp night air. “Take any of the other beds you like.”

My treacherous mind recalls the handful of times I snuck in her bedroom window, and I know exactly which bed I want to slip into. I hurry to grab my bag from where I’d dropped it in the entryway. I’m startled when she speaks again.

“Connor?”

“Yeah?” I turn, hopeful that I’ve finally gotten through her armor in some minute way. Maybe she’ll cry. Crying would be excellent.

“Thank you.” Her earnest eyes tug at my worn and frayed heartstrings. “For coming to help me.”

I drop my bags and stride toward her. Instead of flinching away, she leans forward in anticipation. Though we don’t touch, we still clash like two storm fronts, me dark and ominous, her all lightning and show. I’m close enough to kiss her, and she bats those long lashes, which used to be my undoing. The challenge in her smoldering gaze elicits a deep ache in my groin. I grip the counter top on either side of her thighs until my knuckles turn white.

“I’m not here for you,” I growl.




Tuesday, 11 June 2019

Join the Party! Enter the #Giveaway – The Heart of the Deal – by Lisabet Sarai – Sizzling #BDSM #femdom #erotica

The Heart of the Deal:
Business, Bondage, Discipline and Desire
by
Lisabet Sarai


MF and FF BDSM Romantic Erotica (Triple X rated)
78,000 words
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463811948
ASIN: B07SJY8PTC

Two Sides of the Same Coin

I love writing stories of power exchange – BDSM, dominance and submission, whatever you want to call it. My work in this genre is strongly influenced by my personal experiences in a D/s relationship. That relationship, many years ago,  transformed me, deeply influencing not only my sexuality but my entire life.

I can’t speak for others, but for me the essence of D/s had little to do with physical activities – spankings, bondage, and so on – and everything to do with emotion, connection and trust. Oh, my Master blindfolded me, tied me up, whipped me, dribbled hot wax on my skin, all those thrilling activities we love to read about in BDSM fiction. But what he did wasn’t nearly as important as why.

He craved my submission. He wanted to use me for his kinky experiments, for his pleasure and mine. I gave him the gift of my surrender. I offered myself to him, body and spirit. I wanted him to challenge me, to push me beyond my limits, to take me places I could hardly imagine. We had an intimate contract based on trust and mutually complementary fantasies.

I’d never known such intense excitement, or such deep and enduring satisfaction.

One thing I learned from that relationship is that dominance and submission are two sides of the same coin. A skilled Dom understands at the gut level what the sub is experiencing. And a submissive can only give herself (or himself) fully if she can intuit what her Master wants.

In fact, people who end up as “tops” in the BDSM lifestyle quite often spend some time in the submissive role first. Likewise, depending on the partner, a normally submissive person can switch and act as the dominant. Even my Master admitted that he had fantasies of bottoming to a powerful woman. Meanwhile, I have frequent dreams in which I’m the Mistress commanding the obedience of a younger female.

In The Heart of the Deal, I explore the paradoxical duality of power exchange. Ruby and Rick are both extremely dominant characters. Yet both yearn for the freedom to let go, to surrender to a powerful top who will open them to the parts of themselves they keep hidden. This isn’t really a common theme in BDSM erotica/romance. However, based on personal experience, I’d say that it adds a realistic complexity to what has become a rather stereotyped genre. 

Blurb:

All's fair in lust and business

Ruby Maxwell Chen, the lovely and ruthless CEO of a sprawling British business empire, has no qualms about playing dirty – very dirty. She’s happy to use sex to help her close a deal, especially when she’s the one on top. Ruby loves the game, and she expects to win. When she encounters the inexplicably charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't finally met her match.

From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. As their struggle for dominance escalates and their mutual lust flares, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.


Note: This book was previously published under the titles Ruby’s Rules and Nasty Business. It has been re-edited, revised and updated for this release.



Hop on over to Beyond Romance and leave a comment to enter the Giveaway for a chance to win a free ebook copy of The Heart of the Deal, a free copy of BDSM romance Damned If You Do, or a $10 bookstore gift certificate

Excerpt (Rated R)

Why didn’t my father tell me that he had a partner in the deal? He never even mentioned you.”

Rick gives me a harried look. “I don’t know, Ruby. He talked a lot about you. He planned to send you to Malaysia to do a final inspection of the plant. He wanted me to join you there, to give you a technical briefing.” This, at least, was confirmed by the email I had read. “Maybe he wanted you to form your own conclusions about me. Maybe he thought you’d be jealous, if you knew that he was mentoring me.” A ghost of a grin flits across his irregular features. “He did say that you were hot-blooded, and had a fierce temper…”

Did he indeed?” I say ironically, trying to keep the misery out of my voice. I’d thought that I knew my father so well, that I was privy to all his secrets. The revelation that he kept things from me, that he had other confidants, is painful. I lean forward, deliberately allowing Martell a glimpse of my cleavage, and look him in the eye. He licks his lips nervously. “So, was he right about me, Rick?”

I don’t know, Ruby,” he replies softly. “I don’t know you well enough to say.” He pauses, raises his eyes to mine. “But I’d like to.”

I can’t comprehend how it happens. One moment he is standing there across from me, with the desk safely between us. The next, he’s beside me, pulling me to my feet. Kissing me. His wiry arms snake around me, pulling me to his chest. His lips are firm on mine, exploring rather than demanding. His scent swirls around me, dizzying me. The embers smoldering in my sex leap into flame.

Rick…” I begin, but the taste and texture and presence of him overwhelm me. My objection melts into an inarticulate murmur of pleasure.

He kisses with his whole body. His hands are everywhere, stroking my arse, teasing my nipples. His knee finds its way into my crotch and sets up a rhythmic pressure that soon has me swollen and dripping. He is swollen, too. Brazenly, he rubs his rigid cock against my thigh, as he plunges his tongue more deeply into my mouth.

Ruby,” he murmurs, alternating words with nibbles and licks. “I want you so badly. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

I don’t reply. This is hardly news to me, but confidence and my lust both surge, to hear him admit it. I reach down and give his balls a moderately vicious squeeze. He moans and grinds himself harder against me.

I need to escape this embrace in order to gain the upper hand. I need to take advantage of his moment of weakness. But his carnal attentions are intoxicating. It’s difficult for me to break away. I’m like an alcoholic, wanting just one more drink, one more kiss, one more of his lewd caresses.

It might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I finally manage to gather my strength and push him backward. He doesn’t resist, just stands there looking at me. His clothes are wrinkled. One shirt tail is hanging out of his pants. His longish hair is tangled around his ears. In objective terms, he looks a bit pathetic. Certainly not what one would call sexy.

Yet my heart is slamming away like a jackhammer in my chest. I’m panting as though I’ve just done fifty sit ups, and damp—all over. His cherry pipe tobacco flavor lingers in my mouth. The echoes of his questing hands linger on my skin. The lack of his touch is a physical ache. I need those hands, those lips, that brash cock, need the relief that it seems only he can provide.

About Lisabet

 Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genreparanormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Youll find information and excerpts from all Lisabets books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. Shes also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.