Saturday, 26 February 2011


Unhealthy Obsession is my free short story available at Total-E-Bound.


Martin is Amy's whole life—the sensual centre of an unhealthy obsession. What can she do to turn her steamy dreams into reality?

Grab a coffee and indulge in some sexy fiction for half an hour - be sure to let me know your thoughts.

Friday, 25 February 2011


Come Find Me by Natalie Dae


Kat Simmons takes a vacation to explore her feelings for her sex-on-legs coworker Dan. She’s had the hots for him for the past two years, but isn’t sure if he feels the same way. She knows she needs to return home and confess how she feels—that she hungers for him, has sexy dreams about him…wants him in her bed.

When a room service waiter brings her a note, Kat follows the directions to a mountain cabin. Dan is there—and he wants her naked and in his arms. Together they explore their shared desire for BDSM. A dungeon provides them with the ideal place to act out their fantasies and Kat realizes sex can be hotter than she ever dreamed with a little spanking added to the mix.


The elevator took an age, the green lights indicating the floor levels lighting up with too many seconds in between. She tapped her foot on the patterned carpet, looking down at the interlocking burgundy-and-beige octagons, anything to calm her pinging nerves. A soft whoosh sounded and she lifted her head. The elevator doors slid open, revealing no one inside, and she stepped aboard, jabbing the ground floor button. Her stomach lurched as the descent began and she tapped her hand against her thigh. No one else boarded and when she reached the foyer, she walked across, alert and studying everyone there. Was Dan here, watching, making sure she followed his instructions?

At the desk, Kat received the promised envelope and glanced around before ripping it open. Another folded sheet was inside and she took it out, murmuring the words as she read them.

“Walk down the hill toward town. At the bottom, wait for the tour bus. Travel to the last stop. Once there, get off and head for the tree-lined mountain trail. You’ll get another note at the third trunk on that path. Come find me!”

Laughter burbled out of her and she looked around, conscious that someone may think her odd.Fuck it. If they do I don’t care! She ran to the double doors and burst through, the brisk spring wind whipping her face and hair. Walking along the path toward the main road, she eyed the pebbled gardens. Shrubs and small flowers dotted the areas on either side, and trees in huge pots, their leaves pruned, shaded the grounds. Everything looked so pretty and her mood lightened further, a big improvement to how she’d felt upon waking.

On the path that led down the hill, she halted and stared ahead at the mountains she had to reach. Dan was there, waiting for her. She walked quickly down the hill, taking in the sights below. The buildings of the town center appeared—a cluster of browns, grays and whites. Houses tapered from dense to sparse, creating a circle, giving way to countryside. What she surmised were cows grazed in a couple of fields, horses cantering in another, and she breathed in the crisp air, so glad she’d taken this trip.

At the bottom of the hill, she waited only moments for the bus, which trundled toward her, an old-fashioned silver beast from the fifties. Once aboard, she sat close to a window and willed the other passengers to hurry up and get on. The bus sighed as the doors closed and the engine clattered before settling into a loud hum. Kat stared out the window but didn’t fully appreciate the scenery. Visions of Dan filled her mind and warmed her cunt. She squirmed in her seat, giving the other passengers sidelong glances, telling herself there was no way they knew what she was thinking. God, just to have him touch her, even if he only held her hand…

“Last stop!” the driver called out. “Pick-up is at five.”

Kat sprang out of her seat and moved to the aisle. Other passengers dragged their heels as they disembarked and impatience nipped at her. She fought the urge to push into the aisle and race off the bus, wanting nothing more than to reach that damn tree! At last a space between people presented itself and she lunged into it, antsy to be on her way. A woman stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to the driver, striking up a conversation about which trail was best to take.

Come on, come on!

Her smile rigid, her mind screaming, Kat took a brochure from a transparent holder attached to the dash and handed it to the woman, who nodded her thanks and stepped off the bus. Relief spread through Kat and she jumped the last two steps, landing on the path with a thud. Moving away from the bus, she spotted the tree-lined trail and sped across the road. As she neared the third tree, disappointment soughed through her. No envelope flapped in the breeze. She rushed on, overtaking others on the trail. Had someone else found it, discarded it?

At the tree she rounded the trunk, tripping on an exposed root in her haste. She stumbled, hands splayed out in front of her as she readied herself for a fall. The ground rose to meet her, but strong hands gripped her upper arms from behind, hauling her upright. Annoyed with herself for almost falling, Kat shrugged off the hands and turned to face whoever had rescued her, hoping it was Dan.

It wasn’t.

Despondent, she stared at the man, his weathered skin adding years to his face. Wispy white hair like cotton wool was jostled in the gentle wind and eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Nearly did yourself some damage there,” he said, nodding to the tree root.

“I…I did, yes. Thank you for helping me. I—”

“Here.” He thrust out a white envelope held in a hand gnarled by arthritis, liver spots dotting the skin. “Been asked to give you this.”

Kat stared from the envelope to his face. “Oh I… Thanks!” She took it, itching to open it there and then, but instead held it by her side. “Did you see the person who gave it to you? I mean, is he here?” She gazed around, the path empty now except for them.

“Oh yes, but that was last night.” The old man winked. “Quite the charade, eh? Wish I’d thought of something like this when I was wooing my wife. She’d have appreciated this.” He sighed. “Well, you have fun now.”

He turned and walked toward the bus stop, leaving Kat mulling over what he’d said. Wooing? Was that what Dan was doing? She hugged herself, reveling in that thought, only for reality to snatch it away.

Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t want you. He’s made that very clear.

Pushing away negative thoughts—any time spent with Dan was better than none—she opened the envelope and stared down at the paper. A series of instructions and a crudely drawn map showed her how to get to her next destination. Dan had signed his name in the bottom right-hand corner, a smiley face beside it, a kiss beneath. She fought off a smile, but it spread her lips all the same. That kiss was just something people did, wasn’t it? As much as she hoped for more, that it meant something other than the usual everyday thing, she told herself not to keep analyzing everything. She’d only end up disappointed in the end.

With a sigh she followed the trail, taking a meandering path to the right. It led up the mountain to a flat ridge that held three log cabins, each surrounded by well-tended gardens and picket fences. She headed for the one in the middle, as instructed, and paused at the white gate. Her heart beat painfully fast and she struggled to steady her breathing.

For god’s sake! It isn’t as if you’ve never met him before! She pushed the gate open and stepped onto the path. But this is different. I’ve never met him outside of work. Like this, with notes and the invitation to come find him.

Releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, Kat approached the door and knocked. Seconds passed with no response. Had she come to the right one? She scanned the instructions then looked at the garden. Yes, there was the yellow rosebush mentioned in the note. Definitely the right place. Something fluttered between the stems, partially obscured by the leaves, and she stepped across the grass for a closer look. Another envelope nestled there and, stomach rolling as she anticipated the note’s contents, Kat picked it up and began to read.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011


Thanks to everyone who voted for Mattress Music over the weekend - it won Book of the Week at Whipped Cream Reviews

Here's what the reviewer said

It seems Nina has lost her ability to experience an orgasm -- is that possible and will Ian change things for her?

I rated this story high for its uniqueness, especially in its opening scene. Nina loves sex but her roommates don’t like the noise she makes in their shared living area so she’s resorted to playing music and turning the volume up. Problem is, the lyrics are playing out in her head and it’s putting her off of sex. Her bed partner, Ian is not only a hunk but as the story unfolds, comes across as a guy who is really nice and doesn’t want just a one night stand with Nina.

The story has some humor in it which is always a nice addition to any story. It’s set in London and you get to experience the sound and sights of the city which I think added a nice element Mattress Music. There’s a great twist to this story which I can’t give away but it makes you realize just how lucky Nina is to have met this guy.

Pacing was good and the dialogue very natural sounding. This is a short story that can be read when you have an extra thirty minutes or so. It’s hot, sexy and contains two likable characters and a unique premise. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Don't miss the second in the series Mirror Music

The third and final quickie Ménage à Music is out on the 1st March

Other great reviews for Mattress Music can be found here.

Monday, 21 February 2011


Today I'm thrilled to welcome fellow Ellora's Cave author Elizabeth Lapthorne who has a fabulous brand new release out - RETRIEVING DESIRE.  I'm looking forward to hear all about the inspiration for this story which is book 2 in the Urban Seductions series - following on from RETRIEVING LOVE.

Phew! You have damn hot covers Elizabeth! Take it away.

Hi there everyone J

When Lily first offered me a guest spot on her blog to celebrate the release of the second book in my Urban Seductions series “Retrieving Desire” I was ecstatic. I am thrilled EC is carrying my Urban Fantasy series. They are expanding their genres and helping me live my dream of writing.
Yet when I sat down to actually write my blog I realised this was my first. I’m giving my blog cherry to Lily and – magnificent as she is – this is still daunting and a very big deal for me. So thank you Lily! Please be gentle with me and I hope you find it as satisfying as I do *wink*
So I’m not really sure where my Urban Seductions series came from. Quite possibly it has resided deep in the dark depths of my brain for a long time and only now has it slowly come to light. I have always believed there is more in the world than most people think or expect. I’ve never thought that what we see and experience is “all” there is to the world. Otherwise it would be awfully flat at times, don’t you think? Eat, work, gym, sleep, the odd Girls Night Out and raunchy party.
I think in part that’s what draws me to write the stories I do. Vampires, werewolves, magic. While I’m not sure I truly believe paranormal creatures are out there sharing our world with us – because surely there’d be facebook pages and twitter comments? – I do believe in magic and I do believe in a very generalised “more”. And so when a story and characters nibble on the edges of my conscience it’s so easy to give in.
My Rutledge werewolves was born one Thursday afternoon from the very simple thought of “what would it be like if there were a family of werewolves out there looking for their Happily Ever After”? The series that spawned from that was so far beyond my expectations I still am dazzled by it whenever I think too hard over it.
It was the same with my Montague Vampires. I couldn’t quite see a family of Vampires here in our reality, but it was only a mental hop, skip and a jump for me to imagine a vast world where inter-planet travel was common. Soon after that I not only had my Vampire family, but a whole new universe to explore in writing.
Amber and Zerachiel (the hero and heroine for my first novel in the Urban Seductions series “Retrieving Love”) literally burst into my mind one weekend. I sat down at the computer and started writing and when I went back to my evil day job the following Monday I had almost half a book written with plot, scenes and more characters and research humming desperately in my brain ready for release. Melia and Mishka – who are strong secondary characters with Amber and Zerachiel and the main protagonists of Retrieving Desire – hardly let me draw a breath after finishing Retrieving Love before demanding their own story. Indeed I started writing it almost as soon as I had finished RL.
I have to be honest and I love playing in the Urban Seductions world I have created. Outwardly it is our regular world, specifically the Chicago area. Yet there is for those who look a bit deeper magic everywhere. Witches and wizards exist; magic is a powerful reality for them. The average human can go their whole life and not necessarily notice anything out of the ordinary – isn’t it amazing sometimes what our minds rationalize or overlook? – yet for those who come across something slightly unusual and press that little bit harder there is so much more out there.
Even with Retrieving Love and Retrieving Desire released, I am still writing strong in this world. I have taken a few side plots, been bombarded with a whole slew of new characters and am being dragged along – quite willingly I assure you! – down a long and winding road with their escapades. I don’t want to spoil things too much but a few of the Enforcers alluded to in both Retrieving Love and Retrieving Desire started begging me for attention at the conclusion of my Retrievers’ novels. They have now joined forces with a small, elite human Police special operations team and I can tell you the results are sizzling. J
I love to hear from readers, so please feel free to email me at and drop me a line. And I want to especially thank Lily, for making my first time so easy and wonderful *hugs*



Melia knows Mishka thinks she doesn’t take life seriously, but that never dulled the intense sexual chemistry that burns between them. More than a few seconds in a room together and fireworks explode. Worried that something has happened to her brother, Melia turns to Mishka for help.

Mishka thinks a sexy, serious witch would be perfect for him. Melia has the sexy in spades and a body to die for, but he doesn’t trust her flighty demeanor. When Melia asks, he agrees to help her find her missing baby brother. It seems so simple, but leads to far greater adventures than Mishka could have dreamed of.

From dark, lust-filled rave clubs through the seedy underbelly of Chicago’s magical underworld, Mishka sees sides of Melia he never would have imagined in his wildest fantasies. Passion and desire explode between them, and soon the stakes are higher than ever.


Melia surveyed the room, about to suggest they make their way over to speak with the two bartenders, when her stomach dipped. More than a few people were looking at them, whispering to one another. She knew it would be the wrong decision to go after what they wanted overtly .
They were new, unknowns and thus automatically viewed with suspicion. Before she could say so to Mishka, he shouted, “I have an idea. Follow my lead.” Melia looked at him, but he almost glowed with confidence and she couldn’t resist his contagious smile. Grinning in response, she nodded and let him lead her toward the bar.
He ordered two orgasms. The bartender looked from Mishka to Melia and poured the shots, placing them on the bar and taking Mishka’s money.
Mishka pressed Melia’s back up against the bar and nudged her legs open with his thigh. Taking the first shot, he slowly dribbled it down Melia’s neck. The creamy liquor ran between her breasts, rolling over her skin in a sensual manner. Mishka bent his head and licked up her body, swallowing the liquor and lapping at her skin.
Melia moaned, her eyes fluttering shut at the feel of his tongue stroking smoothly along her skin. The rich scent of the liquor enveloped her senses. Mishka’s tongue had goose bumps spreading all over her body and her nipples peaked almost painfully tight beneath the thin material of her top. Melia could feel the peaks pressing out and she didn’t need to look to know they would be visible to anyone who looked.
She was barely conscious of the click of the glass as it was placed on the bar before Mishka repeated the body shot with excruciating slowness. The liquor dribbled slowly over her skin, the drops rolling over her sensitized body followed by his teasing, darting tongue capturing every last molecule. Melia moaned wantonly, her back arching up from the bar, her body pressing into Mishka’s as she rode his thigh, her pussy rubbing along his leather-clad leg as her skirt rode up dangerously high.
A passionate haze clouded her head and Melia acted only on instinct. She clung to Mishka’s shoulders, pulling him closer. When he lifted his head from her chest and replaced the second shot glass, Melia threaded her fingers through his soft, silky hair and cupped the back of his scalp, drawing him close so their lips could meet in heated fusion.
The world rocked beneath her as they tasted each other intimately for the first time. Mishka’s mouth had the distinct flavor of creamy liquor and a faintly masculine spice beneath that. Their tongues tangled passionately. Melia rocked her hips into Mishka, riding his thigh as if she were straddling him and they were naked and splayed out in the privacy of her large bed, not in the middle of a dance club.
Her nipples were peaked and hungry for Mishka’s touch. She moaned and arched her back farther, pressing the soft mounds into Mishka’s body. He cupped her breast, thumb and forefinger caressing her nipple and sending sparks of hot electricity sizzling through her nerves.
Mishka moved his other hand beneath the edge of her skirt to cup her ass. She guided him his fingers to play around her lips. They ate hungrily at each other and Melia’s eyes fluttered shut. All rational thought left her mind as she lost herself in the kiss. In that moment Melia didn’t care if they both stripped naked and fucked on the top of the bar. She needed to feel Mishka everywhere.
Mishka drew her closer to his hard, hot erection. Her skirt bunched on her upper thigh and only the presence of Mishka’s body covering hers protected others from seeing the lacy black thong that covered her pussy—barely.
Melia could not guess how long they kissed each other, locked in a tight, intimate embrace, gently caressing and exploring each other’s bodies. Mishka’s fingers touched her ass cheek, her naked ass cheek, and his head snapped back. He frowned and tried to tug the tiny leather mini back down over her curves.
Laughing softly, Melia moved away from Mishka, pressed her body back against the bar and turned her head to get the bartender’s attention.
“A cock-sucking cowboy, please,” she half shouted as she turned with a wicked grin to Mishka. She could see him struggle not to smile, but he lost the fight and finally grinned.
“You are not going to…” Mishka’s words trailed off. Melia batted her eyelashes innocently and rested her hand warmly over the thick hardness tenting his leather pants. A part of her wanted to make him believe that yes, she would indeed pour the creamy butterscotch-flavored liquor over his cock and suck it hard.
She handed a crumpled bill to the bartender as he placed the shot next to her on the bar with a small click. She grasped Mishka’s shirt with both hands and stood on tiptoes to bite his earlobe.
“Follow my lead,” she said. He chuckled and Melia tugged his shirt to indicate she wanted them to swap positions.
When Mishka had his back to the bar, Melia mimicked his earlier move, pressed her slender thigh between his legs and unbuttoned the first several buttons of his shirt until the top half of his chest was bared. Melia had never been the shy sort, but such possessive sexiness was not usually her style either. She fleetingly thought that this whole situation, and Mishka in particular, was not her usual casual fling before she took the shot glass, slowly poured the liquor down his chest and eagerly bent to lick and suck it back up. Potent alcohol flowed over her tongue and left a warm trail down to her belly. Even after she had caught all the liquor, Melia continued to lick up and down his chest, detouring over his hardened nipples and pressing her thigh into the growing heat of Mishka’s groin.
Finally, with obvious reluctance, Melia replaced the shot glass on the bar and lifted her head to capture Mishka’s lips with her own and share the taste of her drink with him. They kissed passionately, and Mishka stole Melia’s breath away as, without a care for where they were, dragged her to straddle his hips.
He cupped her ass and they tasted each other, pressing their bodies together and eating at each other’s mouths as if they were starving. A hungry, needy, desperate kiss that had hung between them for months, unacknowledged except for in the sparkling chemistry that continued to crackle throughout each of their meetings. In her heart Melia knew they were well beyond role-playing now, that this was real between them.
Someone tried to get their attention. Lost in Mishka’s taste and body, Melia barely heard him and certainly had no intention of acknowledging the interloper just yet. She had no desire to lose the sense of Mishka’s fingers, tongue and mouth upon her body. She wanted to hold on to this moment and make it last for the rest of her life.
Mishka’s fingers caressed the seam of her ass, gently prying, searching for her secrets. Melia’s head fell back and she moaned, her pussy flooding as Mishka continued to touch her intimately. Whether he sought the slick, heated entrance of her pussy or the tightly puckered resistance of her asshole Melia would never discover. The annoying intruder interrupted yet again. This time his words were louder.
“Hey, sexy, over here,” the same voice shouted again. This time Melia cracked open an eye, surprised and embarrassed to find it was the bartender. About to snap at him to mind his own damn business and leave them alone, Melia recalled in a rush exactly where she was and more importantly, why.
The hand that had been resting on Mishka’s chest, playing with his nipple, squeezed him. Hard enough to get his attention but not hard enough to anger him. Melia nodded and leaned farther into Mishka, looking at the bartender over Mishka’s broad shoulder.
“Hey, stranger,” she purred, “see something you like?”

Thanks so much for popping your cherry over at my blog, Elizabeth, I'm very honoured!! Wishing you many sales in your Urban Seductions series. I for one can't wait to settle down and immerse myself in this amazing world you've created.

Lily x

Saturday, 19 February 2011


Mattress Music has been nominated for book of the weekend by The Long and Short Reviews.

Here is what they say about the first book in this set of three sexy short stories

It seems Nina has lost her ability to experience an orgasm -- is that possible and will Ian change things for her?

I rated this story high for its uniqueness, especially in its opening scene. Nina loves sex but her roommates don’t like the noise she makes in their shared living area so she’s resorted to playing music and turning the volume up. Problem is, the lyrics are playing out in her head and it’s putting her off of sex. Her bed partner, Ian is not only a hunk but as the story unfolds, comes across as a guy who is really nice and doesn’t want just a one night stand with Nina.

The story has some humor in it which is always a nice addition to any story. It’s set in London and you get to experience the sound and sights of the city which I think added a nice element Mattress Music. There’s a great twist to this story which I can’t give away but it makes you realize just how lucky Nina is to have met this guy.

Pacing was good and the dialogue very natural sounding. This is a short story that can be read when you have an extra thirty minutes or so. It’s hot, sexy and contains two likable characters and a unique premise. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Votes would be very much appreciated, just click on the cherries sign below.

Look out for the second in the set Mirror Music.

And due for release on the 1st March Ménage à Music.


Friday, 18 February 2011

Bucking Hard by Darah Lace

The amazing Darah Lace has a smokin' new release - check it out.....


All her life, tomboy Bradi Kincaid has wanted two things—a career as a veterinarian in her hometown of Grayson, Texas…and Mason Montgomery. Problem is, he’s her best friend and, according to him, she’s “one of the guys”. Convinced he’ll never see her otherwise, Bradi comes up with a sure-fire plan to get over Mason—flirt a little, dance a lot and get laid.

What Mason imagines doing to Bradi is just all kinds of wrong. But the woman on the dance floor isn’t the girl he grew up with. She’s hot and sexy and turning him on. Him and every other man in the bar. She’s also had too much to drink and is unaware of the trouble she’s inviting. He does what any friend would—he steps in, then sets out to teach her a lesson.

But before the sun rises, Mason discovers Bradi has a thing or two to teach him.

Reader Advisory: This story contains spanking, biting and some tie-me-up, bucking-hard sex.


Mason crested the hill overlooking the creek and reined in Rocky, his favored mount for riding the range. He’d heard the bawling calf a quarter mile away and figured he’d find it stuck in the mud. He hadn’t expected to find Bradi Kincaid. In fact if he’d known she’d already ridden to the rescue, he would have headed the other way.
But here she was not ten feet away, ass in the air, up to her knees in green slime and mud, her arms around the struggling calf’s neck, and she still managed to light a fire in his gut. And dammit, that was just all wrong.
They were best friends, for Christ’s sake. Practically raised from the cradle together. They’d fished and hunted side by side, ridden drag to bring up the tail end of cattle drives. And they’d gotten into more trouble than a switch could whip out of them. She was his best bud, one of the guys.
So why did his dick suddenly become a divining rod every time she was near?
She wasn’t unattractive. But Bradi was nothing like the women he preferred. She wasn’t sleek or polished or sophisticated. Her fingernails were cut close to keep the dirt out instead of long and meticulously painted to match her outfit. Her dirty blonde hair was either in a ponytail or a braid, and as far as he knew, had never been streaked, colored or cut to the latest fashion. And she might carry ChapStick in her front right pocket to ward off the blistering Texas sun, but that was the extent of her makeup.
Bradi was Bradi—natural, earthy and blessed with athletic grace that made ranch work look easy—and more often than not these days left him wondering what that lithe and flexible body would be like in bed.
“You gonna sit there all day, or are you gonna help me?”
Leaning forward to rest his forearm on the saddle horn and hopefully hide his growing erection, he tilted his head to one side and smirked at the picture she made. “I don’t know. You look like you’re doing just fine on your own.”
She blew wispy bangs out of her green eyes and gave him a withering glare over her shoulder. “Throw me a rope.”
“Where’s yours?” He looked around for her horse but the only other animal in sight was a cow waiting for Bradi to rescue her calf. “Wait, don’t tell me. You were riding Dahlia.”
That damn horse had a habit of leaving Bradi high and—his gaze wandered over her again—not so dry. Covered in muck, the front of her faded yellow T-shirt was wet and clung to her breasts. Breasts he’d known she possessed but never really noticed until two weeks ago. His gaze locked on the words peeling across the chest. Not that he cared what they said with her nipples prodding so diligently through her bra.
Mentally castrating himself, Mason sat up and reached for the coiled rope attached to his saddle. “When are you going to take that piece-of-shit horse to the glue factory?”
“Just shut up and throw me your rope.”
Ignoring her demand, Mason swung the lasso and sent it sailing over the calf’s head. He pulled the rope taut, wrapped it around the saddle horn, and directed his horse to back up. The bull calf cried louder as the mud slowly relinquished its hold. As soon as the calf’s legs found firm ground, he dug in, resisting the pull of the rope.
Bradi laughed and reached for the calf just as it wrenched to one side and kicked. Twisting, she dodged a hind leg, but her feet were still stuck in the mud and she went to her knees. Another kick and brown sludge splattered her chest and neck. “Shit.”
Mason chuckled. “Yep, I imagine so.”
Shooting him another scathing glare, she struggled to stand. “You’re an ass.” Able to finally extract one leg and then the other, she trudged out of the creek toward the calf. “Give me some slack.”
He signaled his horse forward and Bradi deftly slipped the rope from the calf’s neck. The bull bolted for its mama and together they ambled up and over the high bank then disappeared. Looking back at Bradi, Mason wished he hadn’t.
She’d moved up the creek and knelt in a spot of grass to wash the mud from her hands. Tight, faded denim hugged her heart-shaped ass and his hands itched to palm those mounds. She stretched to wet a bandana, causing the waistband of her jeans to dip lower, and a strip of hot-pink lace played peek-a-boo between it and her shirt.
His jeans tightened as his cock strained against his fly. He’d never thought about what kind of underwear Bradi wore—she was naked in his recent fantasies—but if he had consciously thought about it, he wouldn’t have figured her for the lace panty type. Last time he’d seen her in her panties, she’d worn white cotton with a Barbie logo. They’d been six and he’d wanted to brag about his Ninja Turtle briefs.
As she rose, he looked away to gather the rope. He stowed it behind him and turned to find her standing beside his horse with her hand out. Fuck. She wanted a ride. And god, he wanted to give her one.
“Well?” She thrust her hand higher. “Give me a hand up.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He hadn’t thought this far ahead when he’d decided to stick around and help, and his brain certainly wasn’t working now. All he knew was he couldn’t have her sitting behind him, her tits rubbing his back, legs spread… Fuck. “You’re covered with mud.”
“Um, yeah. I kinda noticed that.” She stared up at him with expectant green eyes. Why hadn’t he ever noticed the flecks of gold or the ring of black that reminded him of the sun coming through shadowed forest trees? At his lack of response, her hand fell to her side. “You’re going to make me walk?”
“I don’t want that shit all over me.” Damn, he felt like an ass. He was an ass. He couldn’t let her walk. He’d just have to survive the ride home…and make sure it was a short one.
Before he could offer his hand or an apology, her eyes flashed with anger. And maybe a bit of hurt? “God, Mason, when did you turn into such a pussy?”
She spun around and the metallic whir of a zipper crawled up his thighs and into his balls. Lust rose high but panic shifted into overdrive. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Taking off my clothes so you won’t get dirty.”
Oh, hell no! There was no way— Shit. She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her jeans, starting the downward motion that revealed a hint of one cheek.
“Just get on the damn horse.” He pulled his foot from the stirrup and stuck out his hand. “But I can’t take you home.” His place was closer. “I have things to do.”
A long second passed, then the zipper made a return trip up. His dick jerked in disappointment as she latched on to his hand, shoved her boot into the stirrup and swung herself onto the horse behind him, mimicking his irritated tone. “Things to do.”
The warmth of her body seared his back as she settled into place. His gaze dropped to one side, taking in the slender thigh nestled close to his. The thought of those long legs wrapped around his waist made his balls ache. If she had any idea what she was doing to him, she’d be glad to walk home. Hell, she’d probably run.
But Bradi wasn’t wired that way. He doubted she ever thought about sex. She’d never dated in high school and she never talked about anyone in particular at A&M. The only conversation they’d had about sex was short-lived when he confided his loss of virginity to Katrina Forbes and Bradimade it clear right away the subject of sex was off-limits.
The odds of her still being a virgin at twenty-five were slim, but somehow he couldn’t imagine her having sex with anyone.
Anyone but him.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Ménage à Music has a release date!

Ménage à Music is all set for release on the 1st March at Ellora's Cave. It's the third in my sexy set of rock and roll Quickies, the first being Mattress Music and the second Mirror Music. Watch out though, this one is seriously HOT!


Most women would think themselves eternally lucky to have a hot, sinfully sexy rock star giving them the serious come on—so imagine how I felt to find not one but two giving me the eye! Phew! I was turning somersaults.

But of course this led to a massive and quite honestly unenviable dilemma. How the heck do you choose between two rock gods who want nothing more than to give you pleasure of the extremely intense variety?

Well, lucky for me these global superstars were brothers who knew just how to share the same toy—sorry, I mean woman—leaving me free to take a break from managing the band and let their experienced, talented hands manage me!


I hung out in the green room with Nina and Jenny, watching the interview on a flat screen. Robbie did the majority of the chatting and after a few minutes announced his engagement to Jenny. The result was a scream of excitement and wild clapping from the live audience.

When the frenzy calmed, Claudia folded her arms. “So,” she said, stretching her ruby-red lips wide. “If that’s two members of the hottest band on the planet taken, girls will be worrying about their chances of bagging a Manic Machine. Tell me, Dean, Tim, is there anyone special in your lives?”

Tim sat with his ankle over his knee and his arm stretched along the back of the couch behind Dean. “Might be,” he said with a grin. It was the first time he’d spoken.

“Go on,” Claudia said, leaning forward with encouraging eyes.

“You’ll just have to watch this space,” he said with a slow bob of his head, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Oh, very coy.” Claudia laughed. “And Dean, what about you?”

Dean looked at Tim. His eyes narrowed and a muscle flexed in his stubbled cheek. “Mmm,” he said, his focus not leaving his brother’s face. “Yeah, there’s someone I have my eye on too.”

“Tell us more,” Claudia said, raising her perfectly arched brows.

“Well, obviously I can’t go in to detail.” He poked at a cigarette packet shoved up the hacked off arm of his t-shirt. “But I will say Tim and I have amazingly similar taste in women.”

Tim cocked a dark brow at Dean.

There was a moment of heavy silence.

“Oh, goody,” Claudia said, rubbing her hands together and bouncing up and down on her seat. “A battle of the brothers, who will get the girl? And I must say…” She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead in a dramatic swoon. “She’s the luckiest girl on the planet.”

My heart fluttered and a flush of heat spread across my chest and up my neck. Oh my god, were they talking about me? They’d just announced on national prime time TV that they both liked the same girl. Unless my antenna for spotting serious flirting was well off track, that girl had to be me.

I caught Jenny and Nina swapping meaningful looks.

“What?” I asked, swallowing down a lump the size of Santa’s sack.

“You don’t stand a chance,” Jenny said with a twitch of her brows.

“No,” Nina agreed. “You have two of the most determined guys in the world after you. It’s gonna get real messy.”

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

Twelve Days of Love by Tess MacKall

The awesome Tess MacKall has a new book hot of the press at Ellora's Cave, go check it out.... 

Eden Riley left her high school geek days far behind. Or so she thought. But when she returns to her hometown and comes face to face with the local heartthrob, sparks ignite like a chemistry set on crack. Super-smooth Nick Lancaster sets her nerves jangling and thrusts her libido into overdrive. But can the former geeky girl overcome her insecurities and jump his sexy bones?

Nothing suits former jock and debate team star Nick more than sparring with the one-time nerd. He’s just itching to get up close and personal with her high-velocity curves and tangle with her on the nearest bed.

With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, all bets are off when Cupid draws back his bow and Nick has only twelve days to convince Eden she belongs with him, in his heart and in his bed.


Jingling bells mounted above the flower shop door alerted Eden that a customer had entered the store. She pushed the stem of a pink sweetheart rose into the small wedding bouquet she had just started and wiped her hands on her green wraparound smock. As she turned, she caught a man’s reflection in the glass doors of the refrigerated case.
She couldn’t help but pause and stare. His tall, lean silhouette appeared to be standing there among all those leggy gladiolas and giant spider mums perched in their vases. He reached up to the service counter with one hand and touched the small African violet sitting near the edge. For a moment it looked as though he’d brushed his hand over the big snowy-white spider mum in the cooler.
Eden moaned slightly, his touch so obviously tender. Warm tendrils of longing tiptoed over her skin. She shuddered with the sensation, mentally chiding herself for giving him even a second thought, much less allowing him to affect her physically.
But Nick Lancaster had always worked his way under her skin, even in high school.
He was wet panties and get-naked-quick in one fine-looking package. Bottled sin. A walking aphrodisiac. And all that with just a “hello”. Why did she torture herself with this insane crush? She wasn’t exactly his type, was she? Eden patted her tummy to remind herself of the paunch that sometimes forced her to unbutton her jeans after she’d eaten. Yeah, it hadn’t disappeared, still there.
Nick tilted his head to the side as if to peek into the back of the shop where she stood watching, his mirrored reflection in the glass doors so damn lifelike she took a step back. An exaggerated sigh blew through the workroom’s open doorway, a sure-fire sign his patience had grown thin. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and glanced up at the ceiling.
Eden squared her shoulders, inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and stepped into the showroom. Both Nick’s eyebrows quirked when she appeared and he grinned. She nodded, smiled and planted herself on the opposite side of the counter. He looked too damn delicious today in his dark green Polo shirt and navy blazer. Why did he have to be so handsome?
“Hi, Nick. I might have known I’d be seeing you. The countdown has begun, hasn’t it?”
A distinct V formed between his brows, his grin fading into a frown. “Countdown?”
“Yeah, countdown.” Eden gestured toward the large, heart-shaped day calendar on the wall behind her.
Emblazoned in sparkling gold against the bright red background over the heart’s two humps were the words “Valentine’s Day Countdown”. The number twelve was displayed in bright red and centered inside a pale blue and white wisp of a cloud with Cupid sitting on top, his bow drawn.
Nick focused over her head. “Oh!” Then he frowned even harder. “Well, what was that crack about ’might have known I’d be seeing you’ all about?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
He pursed his luscious lips and squinted his gorgeous green eyes. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“Where the hell did you get that idea?”
It never failed. Every time he came into the shop, they ended up arguing. She always managed to make some snarky comment, and of course, he picked up on it. They’d been at odds since their freshman year of high school. Both had joined the debate team and had never seen eye-to-eye on a single subject.
Slowly but surely they’d gravitated to different ends of the spectrum in popularity too, which hadn’t made things any easier. He, with his Adonis good looks and nothing-but-net shooting ability, naturally floated to the top; she, with her wide hips, pimply face, geeky glasses and penchant for all things artistic, sank to the bottom.
Now here they were, all these years later, no further from that high-school type of relationship than when they’d started. Except Nick had taken over his father’s string of Chevy dealerships and she had moved back home last year, forsaking her managerial position at an up-and-coming art gallery in New York to take over her ailing mother’s flower shop.
Times and situations changed but evidently people didn’t.
“If you don’t want me as a customer, Eden, why don’t you just say so?” He leaned forward, folding his arms over one another on the counter’s faux granite surface, watching her intently.
Lemon drops. He always smelled of lemon drops—and some expensive cologne she couldn’t remember the name of. God, she wanted to reach over and ruffle that thick, wavy black hair of his. Oh shit. Wet panties alert! He managed to do it to her every time without even trying.
And oh how she wished he would. Fat chance.
“I do want you as a customer,” she said succinctly, trying to put an end to the verbal scuffle.
“So? What was that crack all about?”
“Nothing. Just pointing out the countdown is all. I’m a florist. Valentine’s Day is important to me.” Actually, her remark had been a direct jibe regarding his frequent flower-buying miles. He constantly had arrangements delivered locally and wired over a three-state area with each card signed, “Yours, Nick”.
“Your mother is a florist. You’re a stand-in.” He grinned, wet his index finger with his tongue and painted the air with an imaginary mark. “Score one for me.”
Her mouth dropped open. She had a damned art degree in her back pocket. He, on the other hand, had dropped out of college after year two thanks to a bum knee and the fact he’d no longer be able to pump up his already over-inflated ego with the roar of the fans. How dare he call her a stand-in!
“I’ll have you know that I started working in this shop when I was twelve years old. Every day after school, weekends, all summer long too. I’m the one who made those sweet little corsages for all your high-school dance dates. So don’t say I’m not up to the job.”
He jabbed the rigid fingers of his left hand into his right palm—time out. “Chill, girl. Damn. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel one of these days.” He shook his head. “I was joking, messing with you. But I really meant that as soon as your mother was feeling better, you’re gonna be out of here and back to that fancy New York art career of yours.”
Did she detect a note of jealousy? Impossible. Nick Lancaster had it all. Well, except for his divorce, that is. Her mother had told her all about it right after Eden had taken over the shop. Nick had shown up on Eden’s third day to place an order and their customary enmity from high school had picked up right where it had left off.
Eden had related the entire scene to her mother at home that night and was shocked to learn that Nick and his wife, Jenna, had called it quits. He’d caught her dead-to-rights with her masseuse.
The vision of Jenna’s toothy white smile, platinum pony-tail and deep cleavage bouncing up and down right along with the whimsical sashay of blue-and-white pompoms rollicked in Eden’s mind. The cheerleader prom queen sure had screwed up her life. How the hell could she ever want anyone but Nick?
Eden tucked her fingernails into her palms and squeezed, jolting herself back to the present. Who was she to talk? Her judgment where love was concerned wasn’t so great either.
She picked up the order book and scratched out Nick’s name on the appropriate line. “I won’t be going back to New York.”
“What do you mean?” He leaned in closer.
The lemony scent became downright heady. Have mercy. Her nipples poked at her thin cotton sports bra. Tingles of lust wound their way straight to her pussy. Maybe she should start keeping a supply of clean panties on hand.
He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Are you listening to me?”
“You looked like you spaced out for a few seconds.”
“Just thinking. Now what would you like to order today?”
He shook his head. “Not so fast. Why aren’t you going back to New York?”
“Mom’s not going to be able to return to work. She’s now on dialysis.”
He glanced down at the floor then back up at her. His usually devilish eyes had softened. “I’m sorry to hear that, Eden. Your mom is a nice lady. I hope her condition improves.”
Eden averted her gaze. He was being nice. And Nick Lancaster’s “nice” wasn’t something she could take. As long as he played the fool with her, she could handle him, but this side? No.
She pressed the pen against the paper. “Thank you. So how many dozen roses? One for each of the Twelve Days of Love? A dozen different women or just one special lady this time?”
He choked with laughter, sputtering, “The Twelve Days of Love?”
She rolled her eyes. “Florist marketing. If you can have the Twelve Days of Christmas, why not the Twelve—”
“Days of Love,” he finished in a sarcastic tone.
Eden perched her hand on her hip and stared at him.
He licked his lips. Lusty butterflies fluttered in her lower abdomen, sending a delicious pleasure-pain to body parts she didn’t even know she had. Her stomach somersaulted. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Damn. She had to stop doing this. They didn’t even like each other. She wasn’t his type—no pompoms. He’d laugh his ass off if he knew how I felt. As long as she didn’t see him, she was fine. But if she had to talk to him, be near him…
He came around to her side of the counter. “How long have we been rubbing each other the wrong way?”
Eden skirted past him and walked over to the display window. She twisted a pot of heavily leaved philodendron so its back side faced the sun. “Forever. I’ve got a wedding tomorrow, Nick. I hate to rush you, but…”
When she turned from the window, he was standing in front of her almost nose to nose. She stumbled backward and he caught her, resting his hand at her waist. He stared into her eyes. How had she failed to notice those little gold flecks swimming in the dark green depths of his? His breath soughed warm over her face—more lemon drops and something else—his unique male scent.
And his hand—was it on fire? He took it away and the temperature of her skin where he’d been touching her plummeted.
“What will you be doing that night?” he asked.
“Wh-what night?” Surprised she’d found her voice, she hurried back to the counter and picked up the order book again.
“Oh.” She shook her head. “I’ll be lucky to get out of here by nine. And love will be the last thing on my mind, I can assure you.”
“No date, huh?”
“I don’t have time for dating. Can we do the order?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets before he moved back over to the counter. “So you didn’t leave any broken hearts in New York?”
Where the hell is he going with this? And why?
“I’m not exactly every man’s idea of the perfect date. Now if you don’t mind—”
“What’s a man’s idea of a perfect date?”

Exasperated, she blew out a burst of air. “I don’t know and don’t care. I have more important things to do these days than worry about the likes and dislikes of men.”
“What’s more important than love? You’re the florist.” He pointed to the Twelve Days of Love calendar.
“Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re willing to sell the product of love but you don’t believe in it.”
“And you’re driving a Mercedes but you sell Chevys.”
Nick propped his hip against the counter, grinning. “Nobody’s ever challenged me the way you do, you know that?”
“Nobody’s ever pissed me off the way you do. You know that?”
His expression sobered. He looked wounded. “I don’t mean to.”
Deep down she knew that. Guilt crested inside her. “I guess we’re just oil and water, Nick. No harm done.”
An awkward silence rose between them. They just stood there staring at each other until Eden couldn’t take it another second.
“You still want to place the order?”
“Yeah,” he said, soft and low, in an almost-defeated manner.
A few minutes later, Nick had placed an order for roses to be delivered on Valentine’s Day to seventeen different women. With every name and address he read to her from his BlackBerry, Eden jabbed the paper a little harder with the pen. Her stomach churned at the thought of all those women. In her mind, she pictured them with pom poms, blonde hair and long, tanned legs.
And they giggled.
Yep, she was definitely wasting panty moisture on thoughts of Nick. Her five-foot-four, big-hipped frame capped off by average-sized breasts would never stand a chance against all those big-busted beauties. Even her soot-black hair was a sharp contrast to what Nick wanted.
“All right. I think I’ve got everything. I have your credit card on file. How about the card? The usual ‘Yours, Nick’?”
He sounded dejected. She would too if she’d just spent seventy bucks a pop on seventeen different women. No. That wasn’t it. Nick had money. Apparently their antagonistic relationship had gone a bit too far today.
Maybe this was his last order. How would she feel if that was the case?
“Thanks, Eden.” Nick headed for the door, stopped short just as he reached it, waited the space of a few seconds, then opened it. The bells jingled. He continued to stand there with his back to her. A car alarm blared out in the street. He closed the door and marched back to the counter.
Eden just knew he was going to cancel the order and that would be the end of Nick and her silly schoolgirl crush. Head held high, she braced herself for whatever he was about to say.
“I think it’s a case of practicing what you preach,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re right. I should drive a Chevy and you should believe in love.” His shoulders relaxed and he let out a long breath as if he’d been holding in what he’d said. And now that he’d spit it out, he seemed relieved.
“We’re back to that?”
“Yes, and I think we should do something about this,” he twirled his finger in front of him, “this oil-and-vinegar thing we have going on.”
“Water. Oil and water. You mean try to get along?”
“Whatever. And exactly. After all, it’s that time of year. The Twelve Days of Love.”
She smiled. “Okay, Nick. I’ll try if you will.”
Maybe they could get along. Of course, it wouldn’t help the physical side of things as far as she was concerned. But he didn’t come into the shop more than a couple of times a month. It might be nice not to feel so angry and wet when he left the next time.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at your mother’s house at seven.” He strode toward the door.
It was as if the floor fell out from under her. She grabbed the countertop. Blood rushed to her head and her heart drummed so loudly she thought surely the vibrations would bring the roof down on top of her.
Nick spun on his heel. “Seven o’clock. Jeans will be fine. Twelve days, Eden. Twelve days of practicing what you preach. I’ll be driving a Chevy when I pick you up too.” He yanked the door open so the bells jingled, grinned, offered her a little salute and closed the door behind him.