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Thursday 31 October 2019

#ThrowbackThursday - The Halloween Edition - A snippet from Lost Time - #timetravel #paranormalromance

🎃 Happy Halloween! 🎃



Enjoy an excerpt from Lost Time, still one of my all time faves, even after all these years. This story was inspired by a friend of mine who went on a UK vacation and got lost in Wales. Two very sweet people came to her rescue. But that's about where the similarities end, from there on my filthy imagination took over and the delicious Lockhart Munro took form. Oh and what a form he has...

paranormal, time-travel, erotic, romance

[I've left another extract over on * Pick a Genre * if you'd like to read some more]

But first, here's the blurb:

Within this frame, his curse is time…


Hannah Keys thinks she's setting off on the trip of her dreams, but after one mishap after another—beginning with her best friend abandoning her in the airport and ending with the man of her dreams dead—she's renaming it the vacation from hell.

When Hannah Keys discovers a four-hundred-year-old portrait in Wales, she is intrigued and somewhat saddened by the handsome Highlander portrayed by the artist's masterful, lifelike strokes. But when she runs into the majorly hunky model for the painting—in the flesh, in the middle of the night—she learns first-hand all about masterful strokes when she shares a night of medieval passion with him.

Lockhart Munro has been cursed inside the portrait until he meets Hannah Keys. For four hundred years, no one has heard him or seen him, let alone touched him. The one woman who can do all these things may be the key to his long-awaited freedom.

But if Hannah sets Lockhart free from his prison, will she be cursed to spend the rest of her lifetime without him?

Or perhaps freeing Lockhart will be just the beginning…


Buy Link:



Excerpt From Lost Time

Hannah pulled on a pair of warm socks then hung her legs over the side of the bed. She worked her head from side to side, trying to relieve the knot in her neck that she believed to be the source of the headache. 

Hannah heard it again. 

A sigh. Her head snapped up, causing pain to burst from behind her eyes. When her vision cleared, she shrieked and scrambled up onto the bed. 

There was a man. At least, the portrait of a man. 


 “Ohh!” she breathed, as she stared at the full-length painting. The figure leaned casually on a sword. The huge frame dominated the whole wall. 


Hannah slowly climbed from the bed and approached cautiously, almost waiting for something else to jump out and spook the shit out of her. 


 “How on earth did I not see this?” she whispered, nearing the image. 


He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. His features were perfectly masculine and artfully aristocratic. 


His eyes were dark and intense, but the artist had highlighted the inner iris with tiny white strokes, making it seem as if his eyes were lit from within. They sparkled with curiosity as though he were really seeing her. She looked into the dark orbs, holding her breath—transfixed, waiting, watching for them to shift or blink. But, of course, they remained still. She released the breath on a chuckle at her own silliness. What a marvelously talented artist to have made him look so lifelike. 


She continued to examine him, noting the thick, dark hair that reached almost to the collar of his crisp-looking white shirt. She wondered if the cut was considered overlong and indecent for that time period. She tried to discern what era he might have been from, but there was nothing in the painting that even hinted at the answer. Hannah almost wished he were real. She longed to run her fingers through his thick mane. Had the artist taken liberties, or could this man have been so flawlessly designed? 


 “You are gorgeous!” She reached out almost reverently, hesitantly touching his cheek. “How could I have missed you?”

She allowed her eyes to drift over the rest of him. His shoulders were wide. The painter had revealed only a small glimpse of what hinted to be a gloriously muscled chest through the V of the unlaced shirt. His waist was trim but Hannah imagined there lay an amazing six-pack under the loosely tucked garment. Her eyes drifted lower, over the dark pants that covered his thick thighs, down to the calf-high, shiny black boots. 


 Her focus slowly lifted back over his body, her eyes lingering on his crotch for an overlong moment as she imagined that part of him, too. She didn’t have to be an artisan to imagine in precise proportion to the rest of his size what a delightful handful he might be. She sighed. A girl could dream, couldn’t she? 


Hannah realized she was breathing rapidly. Her face was warm. Her breasts tingled. Her body was responding as it would if a real live man had captured her attention, although she couldn’t ever remember having a reaction like this without some kind of stimulation first. She almost wished the swirls of paint were not cool to her touch but warm and giving, like his skin might feel. 


She centered her gaze back on his amazing face, noting the high cheekbones and the strong jaw, noticing the slight cleft in his chin. She touched it, wishing that her finger could delve inside the little dent. “Oh, I like that.” She smiled in appreciation of the tiny little dimple that gave the very manly features a boyish little twist. 


Her attention swept to his mouth. He had full, sensual lips. “I bet you know how to kiss a girl, don’t you?” she asked them, wondering what it would be like to be kissed by those lips—to be kissed by a man like him at all. Would he take a woman over? Would he dominate her until she gave in? Not like he’d have to do much convincing. Or would he seduce a woman into submission with flowery words and a soft touch? It didn’t matter— either way, she’d be all over it. 


Hannah swallowed hard and licked her parched lips as she ran the pad of her index finger over his full lower lip, resisting the sudden, overwhelming urge to press her own lips to the cool canvas. Hannah’s body trembled. 


She gave herself a mental shake. It was the first time she’d ever been turned on by a painting. Putting distance between herself and it before looking back into his dark eyes, she gasped. They didn’t look as cold and intense as the first time that she’d looked into them. They were a warm chocolate brown.

“How can that be?” She exhaled, again looking to him for answers. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. She shook her head from side to side. They were back to their original cold, blank stare. Her mind was playing tricks on her. 


“Maybe I’m coming down with something?” She peeked up at him once more. “Why can’t I meet a man like you?” she asked him. “You know, if I did, I’d never go back home.” It was the truth. There was nothing to go back home to. Her mum was gone. Cass would soon marry that idiot Paul and things would change. Again. 


Hannah backed away from the portrait, switched off the bathroom light then slid into bed. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the painting. The flickering firelight gave the impression that he was alive, moving. 


All of a sudden, Hannah felt a moment of gripping grief, as if she mourned for the man in the painting. Her eyes filled as her chest tightened with pain. And just as fast as the feeling had come, it went, leaving her feeling nauseous and hot.



Buy Link:

Totally Bound
Amazon
Universal Link

Also Available in Print
Totally Bound
Amazon


🎃Have a Safe and Happy Halloween!🎃


Wednesday 30 October 2019

New Release: A Kink a Day Book Four - by Kay Jaybee @kay_jaybee #BDSM #erotica #femdom


Out Now
A Kink a Day Book Four
by
Kay Jaybee

Need some time out from reality?

If ever there was a time to indulge in some kink laden fantasy, then this is it.

What better way to escape from the world for a while, than by enjoying a daily, bite-sized, morsel of erotica?

Each book in Kay Jaybee’s A Kink a Day series provides eight hot reads. One for each night of the week and a spare in case you fancy a weekend lie-in.



Blurb:

From a restraint fantasy in a dusty South African quarry, to the soap-frothed kinky reminiscences of a soldier; the sexy end-of-the-line activities of a bus driver, to the hidden world where willing men do “Just As She Says”, A Kink a Day Book Four, provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week- with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

Available from:

Here’s an extract from the beginning of Brick Dust:

 ‘Tell me. What else did he want to do to you?’
            ‘He...’ A layer of dry dust landed on Liza’s lips, making it difficult to reply.
            ‘Come on girl. We’ve got you this far, and hell; you don’t half look good.’
            Liza could sense Mick’s urgency. Before he’d tied her up his tone had been methodical and controlled. Now, as the quarry foreman towered over Liza, observing her as she discovered what it really meant to be spread-eagled, naked, exposed, and vulnerable, his Praetorian accent crackled with barely suppressed lust.
            ‘He...’ She licked her lips, tasting stone grit on her tongue, ‘...he wanted to force me into begging to be fucked.’
With her arms at right angles to her body, and her wrists and ankles roped to parallel winch shafts, Liza had the strangest idea that she must look like an open pair of scissors.
            After accepting the temporary job as administrator at the South African sandstone brick quarry, Liza’s main worry had centred around coping with the extreme heat after years of living on the cool English coast.
            Once she’d arrived however, Liza had moved on from considering how she would keep cool to how she’d manage to keep her hands off her boss. Within half an hour of meeting Mick, Liza had been fantasising about what it would be like to sit on his lap; slowly rising her arse up and down, as her body engulfed his thick, solid cock...
            That afternoon, sat at office desks, Liza had been struggling to coat the back of her neck with sun cream, and Mick had offered to help.
If Mick had stopped applying the lotion once he’d covered her neck, then perhaps nothing would have happened. But Liza hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d daydreamed so often about the site foreman giving her a more thorough lotioning than was strictly necessary, she hadn’t complained when Mick lifted her vest top over her head and began to anoint the rest of her back.
            It was only when Mick moved to her front, that the reality of discovery had invaded Liza’s brain. The idea that someone could walk into their office had dragged her fantasy fuelled imaginings from the tug Mick was creating at her crotch, and caused her to defensively cover her white bra with her hands.
            ‘What is it with you?’ Mick sat back, more amused than annoyed. ‘One minute you’re asking me to run my hands all over that hot body of yours, and the next you’ve gone cold. Who you hiding from?’
            ‘What makes you think I’m hiding? I just don’t want anyone to walk in and see me with your paws all over my chest.’
            ‘Come off it. You’re hiding. Why else would you be working in the middle of nowhere for six months when you could be running some nice clean company back home.’ Mick winked at Liza, the fact she hadn’t complained about his hands being on her tits silently hung in the air between them.
‘Anyway, you’re not the first. Nearly everyone who takes your job is avoiding something somewhere else. What’s your excuse for turning up here? Not just to give me wank dreams surely?’
            Perversely pleased that she’d been having as much an effect on Mick as he had on her, Liza gave him a half smile. ‘You wank about me?’
            ‘Believe it. You’ve done some unbelievable things in my head...’

(A Kink a Day Book One, Book Two and Book Three are already available as eBooks from Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, and all good retailers.)

Bio

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, A Kink a Day- Books One-Four (KJBooks, 2018, 2019), The Voyeur (Sinful Press, 2018), The New Room, (KJBooks, 2018), Knowing Her Place-Book 3: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (KJBooks, 2018),  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


Release blitz organised by Writer MarketingServices.

Monday 28 October 2019

Book Tour + #Giveaway - Finders - by Amy Romine @AmyJRomine #horror #PNR #thriller



Finders

Finders Ghost Hunting #1 
by
Amy Romine 


Genre:

Paranormal Romance Thriller


When an expert Demonologist meets a Reality Show Producer on the Ghost Hunting Show Finders, sparks of true love fly so brightly even the
Devil takes notice.

Demonologist, Luke Melloy has seen the face of pure evil. He's fought it and sent it back to hell. It's what he does. To Claire Westin, ghosts and
demons are just great television and good for ratings. When faced with the truth Luke has seen, her reality is turned upside down as the two are swept into dire straits moments after they meet. Desire sparks between the unlikely pair, throwing their hearts into chaos with a love neither expected nor wanted.

When the Demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his wrath, Luke finds his focus split between his oath to God and the awakening of his heart. Together, can they face the ancient evil and defeat it or lose everything?






Amy Romine has always wanted to be one of the good guys. From playing Charlie's Angels in the backyard of her Macungie, PA home as a child to the pages of her unending projects, Amy has always dreamed of adventure and romance. Her need to make the characters truly deserve their happiness takes us on many a twisted journey. From serial killers to demons, Amy holds nothing back in the name of true
enduring love.

A mother of three, Amy has spent the past sixteen years working in Operations for Ricoh America's Corporation.
She is an avid movie fan and enjoys books, television, theater, her dog Pip and all things romance.







Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!



Wednesday 23 October 2019

New Release - The Alpha's Demiwolf - by @GaleStanley [Utopia, 1] #NewAdult #Paranormal #Romance


The Alpha's Demiwolf 
Utopia, 1

Author: Gale Stanley
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Art: Bryan Keller
BIN: 009067-02934

Genres: Paranormal, Romance, New Adult, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Werewolves


Blurb:

Kya: I’m a demiwolf -- half wolf, half human, and both species despise my weird mix of genes. Despite the fact I strip for a living, I’ve hung on to my virginity for twenty-two years. Until I got knocked up by a big, bad wolf. Now, I’m going to bring another demiwolf into the world, but his father will never know.

Levi: I’m all wolf, and Alpha of my pack, committed to keeping our bloodlines pure. Then on the night of my bachelor party, I hooked up with a stripper. I just wanted to teach the demiwolf a lesson, but the sex set me on fire. My wolf claimed her and now I can’t get her out of my head. But what if she won’t accept me?

Available at:
Kobo 

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The Alpha's Demiwolf (Utopia 1)

Gale Stanley

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Gale Stanley


Kya

I cringed when I saw the billboard proclaiming, Girls! Girls! Girls! It was a tacky way to get attention, and I hated it. Averting my eyes, I turned the corner, pulled into the lot, and parked my old pickup behind the club. It was my first night at Show ’n Tails, and a definite step down from my old job, but I’d been fired and needed a gig ASAP.
The incident wasn’t my fault. There were two of us on the stage and Brandi was so sloshed she invaded my space and fell on her ass. As if that wasn’t enough, she accused me of tripping her. Well, one thing led to another and we both got canned. Another girl told me that Show ’n Tails was hiring and I went for an audition. The manager was an asshat, but he doesn’t ask too many questions. I like to keep a low profile.

This isn’t the life I wanted, but taking off my clothes pays the bills, and I won’t apologize for trying to earn a living. At least I’m not selling my body, just the illusion of sex. A lot of girls up their game, but not me. My virginity is the last piece of self-respect I own and I won’t give it up to some creep for any amount of money.

The heavy backdoor slammed shut and locked behind me and the manager shot me a dirty look. “Hey, Kya. You’re late.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. And my name is Raven when I’m working.”

Marty’s lip curled in a sneer. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You better get dressed. I mean undressed.” He snickered.

I ignored his disrespectful ass, and walked over to the dressing room. A row of dented lockers lined one wall. A wide counter with a lighted mirror behind it ran the length of the opposite wall. Everything stunk from sweat and cheap perfume. The long vanity was cluttered with makeup and no one made room for the new girl, so I started changing next to my locker. When a spot at the mirror opened up, I grabbed it and started working on my wild black curls.

Marty stuck his head in the door. “Hey, fresh meat, you’re on next.”

I knew he meant me. I was the newest girl there. Half of me cringed, the half that’s wolf. The half I keep hidden. Or is it a quarter of me I keep hidden? I guess it depends on how you look at it. A full-blooded wolf-shifter is already half human, although they’ll never admit to it. My father was a wolf, but my mother was human.
Does that mean I’m… Oh, fuck the fractions. No matter how you look at it, I’m a demiwolf.

But I look human. I checked my body in the mirror. Yep, a hot as hell human female stared back at me. Tacky, but sexy. Nothing says stripper like stiletto platform heels and a thong that shows off a girl’s booty. I slipped on a white, halter mini-dress with a drape-neck, an open back, and a side slit. Then I ran my hands through my curls and gave my lips one last swipe of purple-plum gloss.

It’s so much easier to call myself human and blend in with the majority. The humans are clueless. They know we exist, but they believe we keep to our own side of the tracks. The wolves are a different story. They can smell my lupine pheromones, but they don’t want me. I’m not pure. Fuck ‘em. At least I can make a living among the humans. Stripping might be a trashy job, but it pays for the life I’m trying to live. It’s not the life I want, but it’s all I’ve got. I used to dream about being accepted by my father’s people. Fat chance. They wouldn’t even accept him because he had a human lover and a half-breed kid.

My parents never married, but they lived together -- sometimes. When my father was around, I was daddy’s girl. But all too often, he would disappear as if he had no family. My mother would drink and tell me that he liked to hang out with his own kind in places where we weren’t accepted. When he came back from his trips, he’d act cold and resentful, but it wouldn’t last long. Eventually, he’d tell me he loved me and everything would be okay again. I thought nothing would keep us apart for good. I was wrong.
One day he didn’t come back. We found out he was killed in a bar fight. One of his so-called friends called me a mongrel and Dad died defending me. My mother cried and cried. She said this was why they never wanted kids. So I was what… an accident?

I couldn’t blame them. Not really. Life was hard enough without being born with this weird mix of genes. I hated myself, too. I wished I’d never been born. At least I could make things easier for my mother. As soon as I finished school, I left home and never looked back.

While waiting to go on, I thought about my routine -- floor work, then pole dancing, then back on the floor. I’m not nervous anymore about being naked in front of a roomful of men. I was at first, but now I focus on my moves. I’ve been scorned and dehumanized all my life, so I like to emphasize something I can do well -- dance.

I peeked through the curtain and watched Candy finish her routine. There’s a mirror behind the stage and a pole in the center. Chairs surrounded the stage for customers who wanted direct contact with the dancers. I watched one of the men put a bill in his mouth. Candy shoved her breasts in his face and used them to grab the money. There were hoots and hollers and more men waved bills at her. She collected all of her tips, then picked up her clothes, and ran off the stage.
The DJ, sitting in an alcove nearby, introduced me. “Next up is a beautiful lady who’s new here. You’re gonna see her naked for the first time tonight.”

Well, it’s not a complete lie. It’s my first time naked on this stage.

“Give Raven a nice warm welcome.”

My heartbeat skyrocketed as I stepped through the curtains and climbed the three steps to the stage. The opening bars of my music started up and I began to move.

* * *

Levi

My anticipation ran high. I’m always excited to see new talent. Samson made a joke about the taste of fresh meat and we all laughed, then I looked up at the stage and my eyes practically popped out of my head, like in one of those old cartoons. The new girl… what’s her name? Raven. She took my breath away. Her curvy shape and that thick black mane had me salivating. From what I could see, everything looked natural, and she had the best set of legs in the club.

“That is one hot piece of ass.” Samson stood up. “I need a closer look.”
Samson walked over to the stage and we all followed. Raven smiled in our direction and my heart took a leap. Her white mini dress emphasized all that golden skin, but it was her eyes that really stood out. Almond in shape and color, they seemed to be staring directly at me.

Author Bio and Links  


Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
Some things never change.

Tuesday 22 October 2019

New Release - Waltz of Seduction - by Natasha Blackthorne @Nblackthorne #Regency #Romance

New Release
by
Natasha Blackthorne 

A Steamy Regency Novella



It all started with a daring red ball gown… 

Shy common-born Sara wants to seduce her husband. Her handsome, noble-born husband wants only to teach her how to waltz. But who knew a waltz could be so naughty?






Lord Lockhart loves his new bride. Yet he also knows that a gentleman doesn't inflict his passionate desires on a wife. The marriage bed is for begetting heirs, not animal lust. No matter how much he desires his wife. But under Lady Lockhart's shyness is a determination to tempt her handsome husband, to satisfy them both and spend every night together in her bed.

Innocent waltzing lessons in their chambers soon become passionate, and may lead the newlyweds to overcome their preconceptions and learn to be lovers, as well as man and wife.

A Message from Natasha Blackthorne: 
  
Dear Readers, 

On May 20, 2011, I made my debut as a published author with Waltz of Seduction through Ellora’s Cave under their Quickies® line. Now I am re-releasing this short novella. I hope you enjoy this short story for what it is, a snapshot of one moment of time between a young misinformed husband and an innocent and shy but eager young wife. The heat level is Scorching Hot Romance and it contains some sensual bondage.


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Waltz of Seduction
Copyright © 2011 Natasha Blackthorne

Alarm accelerated her heartbeat and she glanced up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me." He moved behind her and took both her hands. She felt him tugging and pulling.

Then he faced her. "Now we try again."

She pulled at her hands. She couldn’t move them. He had bound them together. "Colin?"

He came back to face her and clasped the sides of her waist, holding her firmly. "I will not let you fall. Do you trust me?"

"I suppose," she replied. But she worried about his state of mind. He did seem a little foxed.

He began to move, slowly. She stared down at her feet.

"Stop counting the steps." He pointed at his face. "Look me in the eyes. Feel this in your body, not your head. Trust me."

Her feet wouldn’t obey.

"In my eyes," he said.

She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on this mysterious thing he seemed to think she would see in his eyes. He smiled at her and then she did feel something in her belly. A gushy sensation that did nothing to steady her balance. She returned his smile. He was certainly more handsome than her dancing master had been. More graceful as well. They finished the dance with a few trips and stops. Then mercifully, it was over.

They rested a moment.

"I think I have it, will you untie me now?"

"Oh no, my Lady Lockhart. That was just practice. If you trip this time, you shall owe me two waltzes at that ball."

It was an unfair edict. She felt helpless as a marionette in his arms. She didn’t know how she was expected to keep her balance.

After a time, his steady blue gaze transfixed her. She forgot about her feet and just followed him. He was right, there was something in the stomach. A feeling of connection between what she saw in his eyes and how her feet seemed to move in tune with his as if by magic. He twirled her faster and faster until she was laughing and trying to catch her breath. He slowed down and bent his mouth to her ear.

"This is waltzing. And you dance beautifully when you forget yourself." His husky voice sent shivers though her.

His lips touched hers. His tongue caressed her lower lip in feathery strokes. Her lips parted of their own volition and his tongue swept into her mouth. Hot, wet and wine tinged.

Dear sweet heaven.

He had never kissed her like this. She wanted to embrace him but he didn’t seem in a hurry to release her from her bonds. Maybe she should ask. But then, Priscilla said men didn’t like to be directed in the bedchamber.



 **Available on Kindle Unlimited **
.99¢ to purchase

About the Author
 
Natasha Blackthorne writes Scorching Hot Historical Romance where deeply flawed characters find love & trust. Her stories are most frequently about the intimate journey of the characters as they learn to open their hearts to love.  

Natasha’s heroines are not perfect ladies. They are wildflowers and wallflowers who flirt with the forbidden. Whether they are bold or shy, these heroines’ strong desires and deep emotions drive the plot and drive their strong, dominant heroes heroes to the point of no return.

Natasha holds a B.A. in History, loves reading, cats and music.

Connect with Natasha Blackthorne online:

Saturday 19 October 2019

'Tis the season for all things spooky... Enjoy this intriguing teaser from The Fall of Cairnnon Castle


For the month of October find all of my eXtasy Books on Sale including fan fave mafia romantic suspense, The Always Cambridge Series; Editor's Choice, historical romance, The Devil Take You; AND the haunting Lustful Possession Saga. A perfectly haunting read that'll get you in the mood for all hallows' eve.

Though this collection of short stories is predominantly dark erotic paranormal—at times verging on horror—it runs the gamut in sub-genres and eras—from contemporary to historical time-travel, and back again. Please note: the series also incorporates both m/f and m/m couplings, plus some multi-partner interaction.

A seemingly harmless paranormal investigation sparks a series of haunting events that ultimately sends an international team of supernatural investigators to Ireland and to one of the most haunted destinations in all of Europe.


Travel Through Time and Unravel the Mystery of Cairnnon Castle 


Part 1 - Meet Me in the Dark
(m/f, paranormal, erotic, contemporary, ghosts, possession)

Crishtin Davenport thought she was attending a simple Halloween event—a good scare to get the blood pumping. Little does she know her actions that night would unleash an ancient evil.

Part 2 - Dark Foursome
(m/f, paranormal, erotic, contemporary, ghosts, possession)

A foursome takes on a whole new aspect when a fledgling couple, is hijacked by two randy spirits, who then use their corporeal bodies to recapture the sexual pleasures they enjoyed while inhabiting the physical world.

The saga takes a sudden medieval time-travel twist in Part 3 - The Fall of Cairnnon Castle (m/f, time-travel, Ireland, historical, paranormal, dark erotic, verging on horror)

Cairnnon Castle is one of the most haunted places on earth and home to one of the most evil entities ever documented. When an enthusiastic troop of paranormal investigators descends on the ancient stronghold, all hell breaks loose.

Meet the O'Cairnnon's - a fate most do not survive...


Part 4 - Rising From the Darkness
(m/m, paranormal, erotic, contemporary)

U.S. paranormal investigators return to Ireland to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the Fall of Castle Cairnnon. But what they find instead might set the paranormal community on it’s collective ear.

Part 5 - Dark Seed
(paranormal, erotic, contemporary, m/f story with m/m interaction)

The supernatural investigators' astounding discovery at Cairnnon Castle, can only be described as a miracle. 

Or perhaps one blessing, is just another curse.


Part 6 - Bending Darkness
(m/f, paranormal, erotic, time-travel, historical)

The Cairnnon curse threatens to turn one woman's dreams of happily-ever-after into a hellish nightmare.


And Part 7 - Dark Defeat - The stunning conclusion to the Lustful Possession saga
(paranormal, dark erotic, time-travel, historical, an m/f story with f/f and m/f/f interaction)

Hell-bent on saving her children, a mother will stop at nothing to defeat the evil that stalks her family, or at the very least, she’ll die trying.

Evil never gambled on battling one pissed off mother!


Please be aware: This erotic paranormal collection of short stories contains both mf & mm pairings, & cliff-hangers. Installments must be read in order.

Enjoy an erotic excerpt from Part 3 - The Fall of Cairnnon Castle 



Prologue

Cairnnon Castle, Ireland—The Present 

The earth underneath me quakes. The sky above me falls. It rains down on me. Pain explodes inside my head. My ribs break. I am crushed. 

A deafening rumble offends my ears. My body is tossed and crumpled, battered by debris. It goes on for an eternity. 

And then... 

Silence. Stillness. 

The pain is immense. Like nothing I’ve ever endured in my life. 

Oh, God! Please! I implore wordlessly. I cannot speak, scream, or moan. 

My eyes are closed. But beyond me, there’s brightness, so vivid I detect it through my closed eyelids. I try to open them, but none of my faculties are functioning. I am heavy. My lungs are burning. It hurts to even take shallow breaths. I concentrate on the unenviable task of simply inhaling in and out—an action I have obviously taken for granted all these years. The dust is choking me. I try not to cough. I will split apart if I do. My ribcage has already splintered with the weight upon me. 

A low hum begins. It is annoying, but as it goes on it becomes comforting, harmonious. 

As the fire in my chest subsides, I am lethargic, sleepy, and content. 

Stillness. 

I know what this is. It is elemental. Inevitable, from the moment we take our first breath. 

I wait for it... 

Death comes. 



I am in and out of consciousness. 

“Just come,” I whisper. Speaking is laborious, yet somehow it happens. “Just take me.” 

The incessant drone becomes vibration. 

I sense it, a presence. Above me. Surrounds me. Becomes me. 

The pain subsides by degrees. Warmth seeps into me. I sigh at the pleasure of it. I hadn’t realized I was so cold. 

Without words, it communicates with me. Death is one with me. 

You enjoy that.” 

“Yes. Thank you.” My gratitude is profound. 

You know what I am.” 

It is a statement. It is a part of me. It knows what I am thinking. 

I don’t need to articulate. “Yes.” 

You are not afraid.” 

“No, you comfort me.” 

For a moment I sense confusion, and I am bewildered by it. It is not my uncertainty. It is illogical. Death would not emote. But my thought is distracted. 

The lovely heat spreads, radiating through every part of my broken body. 

Ahhhh, that feels so good.” 

Everything in me tingles, from the top of my head right down to my feet. There is no pain. Not even my lungs hurt anymore. My inhalations become rapid instead of shallow. My blood rushes. I can hear it traveling through my veins. My pulse pounds in my head. My body throbs. My breasts tingle and my loins catch fire.

I squirm. My body tightens. The heaviness in my lower body is nothing but carnal. 

I am not even being touched, but I am being consumed and stimulated on every level. Mind, body and spirit. 

It fills me, inside and out. 

Unable to stop myself, I feel my hips list in that dance as old as time. I am going to come. 

“Onnhhh!” I am bombarded by one blissful, gutwrenching wave after another of exquisite, relentless pleasure. I want to weep at the intensity of it, but I am helpless. 

It has to stop, but I don’t want it to end. I thrash, uncontrollably experiencing an all-over body orgasm like nothing I’d ever experienced in life. Is this heaven? A powerful tug, deep inside, sends another round of sweet undulation through me. 

I cry out. 

What am I, Nevaeh?” Death demands. 

I pant with my last breaths. 

“You! 


“Are! 


“Allll!”


Chapter One

Neve Brádach opened her eyes. She was floating outside her body, above herself, looking down through the rubble and ruin that just hours ago had been Cairnnon Castle. Centuries-old stones and debris lay on top of her broken body, but somehow, she managed to see through the layers to her physical form below.

Unbelievably, sadness at her own horrific demise was not her first concern.

“Neve! Neve! We’re coming! Don’t give up! I’ll get you out!” It was Arnie Rollison’s frantic voice. The team-leader and her mentor. The man she’d longed to work with for years was now digging desperately with his bare hands. Unguarded tears ran down his dirty cheeks, leaving trails.

She felt sorry for him. He sounded so adamant, so determined. As if he still had hope.

There were tons and tons of wreckage. Even if she were still alive—and she wasn’t convinced that she was—they’d never reach her in time.

Neve laid a hand on his shoulder. “Arnie. Stop, my friend.”

His head twitched, as if he’d heard her, and his frenetic actions ceased for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Neve. I’m so sorry!”

Without warning, she was jerked back inside her body. The pain was dull, not sharp like it had been in the beginning.

Shit! I’m not dead. But I’m goin’ to die in here. I’ve seen the devastation above me. 

Death was going to be long and arduous. “Come back to me,” she called Death. “Please come and take me.” But as she lay fading in and out of consciousness and time ticked by, she wasn’t sure if she begged Death to claim her permanently or for it to take her again and again as it had earlier. She longed for the carnal bliss that Death could provide. Her body tingled at the memory as the blackness once again enveloped her.

* * * *
Much later, the heavy equipment continued to dig above her, but she drifted out once more.

The next time she woke, the weight had been lifted from her chest. She opened her eyes, and to her astonishment, she was able to move her arms and legs. She looked down at her limbs.

“What am I wearing?” She let her fingers run over the unfamiliar fabric. “Where am I?” She searched the strange room. She blinked rapidly, confused. Who am I?

Her mind was blank, devoid of all memory.

Noise, like that of a large crowd reached her ears. Gaining her feet, she followed the sound, out of the room and down a hallway.

It seemed like a party. Everyone was in costume. Lit torches in sconces lined the wall, giving the entire area a dreamlike quality.

From nowhere, someone grabbed her. “There ya are. Where have ya been?”

Neve looked up at the man who stared down at her with deep intensity. Unable to stop her reaction, she gasped. He was the most incredible looking man she’d ever laid eyes on. Chiseled, rugged features. Striking, dark eyes. Strong chin. Tall. Muscular. He wore a crisp-looking white linen shirt, baggy trousers, and a blue and green checked sash.

He smiled, obviously sensing her attraction to him.

“Watch that smoulderin’ gaze, my sweet Nevaeh, or I will throw ya over my shoulder, with or without the vows, and take ya to my chambers and ravish ya until ya canna walk.”

Sounds good to me.

“Come. This is our celebration. Let us dance. I want nuthin’ more than to feel ya in my arms.”

He twirled her around and escorted her out onto the ballroom floor.


© H K Carlton


For more from the Lustful Possession Series hop on over to Pick a Genre for a haunting teaser from Part 4 - Rising from the Darkness, or over at Breaking Genre, sample an extract from Book 2, Dark Foursome.

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