Visit my Website for all the blurbs, excerpts and news!!

Visit my Website for all the blurbs, excerpts and news!!
Visit my Website for all the blurbs, excerpts and news!!

Tuesday, 31 July 2012

Jorja Lovett - Jackie and her Loose Talk

Jackie Thompson is the kiss and tell queen, prepared to sleep her way to fame and fortune. Her latest escapade with two footballers is on course to secure her future but she trades it for a handful of magic beans…or in this case, the address of a reclusive billionaire.

Scarred by his past, Viktor Torok hides away from the outside world. When Jackie barges into his life he lets her get away in an effort to protect his privacy. But he hasn’t counted on the unwanted attraction that rages between them on their second meet.

Can she break through his walls and help them heal each other?


A gentle tug on his wrist woke Viktor from a heavy slumber. Through sleepy eyes he could make out Jackie’s blurry form at the top of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you’d never wake up." Another tug on his other wrist and he tried to sit up to see for himself. With both arms above his head, he couldn’t move.

"What the fuck?" He tried again but found both wrists tied to the brass headboard with two of his silk ties.

Jackie straddled his waist, teasing his barely awake cock with her smooth pussy. "We’re going to work on a little trust exercise."

"This doesn’t tally with the ‘fall back and I’ll catch you’ scenario we were taught on the training courses. I think I’d remember the ‘tie you naked to the bed and give you a boner’ version." She leaned forward to test the knots, her breasts rubbing him into semi-arousal.

"Much more effective I find." A little wiggle of her hips coaxed him into a full hard-on and she couldn’t hide the smile in her eyes. "Now, why are you so reluctant for me to go down on you?"

He admired her direct approach; it didn’t leave room for lies. "It’s a delicate piece of my anatomy which I am reluctant to put anywhere it could get bitten off."

Jackie eyed his swollen manhood. "It doesn’t look very delicate to me. In fact, not too long ago I think it tried to nail me to a tree trunk. So, have you always had this phobia of blowjobs?"

"You should have been a therapist you know. Although I think you need the glasses and hair in a bun to pull it off effectively."

She slapped his thigh but rather than chastising him, the sharp sting excited him further. "I’m serious."

"Since Carmen, I don’t trust anyone not to hurt me, physically or otherwise." The truth finally emerged as Viktor came to terms with his fucked up view of the world and everyone in it.

To his relief, Jackie kept her business-like manner rather than pity him. "A wise man once told me to lie back and enjoy. So—" A wave of her hand shooed him back onto the pillow.

"Is this you acting out some sort of Domme fantasy?" Smart-mouthing her was the only stalling technique in his armory right now as panic set in. Am I ready to give myself over so completely to another woman?

"Now you come to mention it…" She took his cock in hand and rubbed the crown against her slit.

"Shouldn’t we have a safe word or something so you stop when I say?" Cold sweat broke out on his forehead at being totally at her mercy.

She let go so his cock slapped back on his belly. "You’re right. Hmm, what about Beanstalk?"

"Beanstalk?" He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. What size of Beanstalk?

"Yeah. Because it leads to such wonderful treasures." Not giving him time to preen, Jackie bowed her head and took his cock deep into her mouth.

He fought his bindings, and curled his toes; desperate to take charge of his own body but Jackie’s mouth was definitely calling the shots. The swirl of her tongue around his shaft and the soft lips circling his girth threw his idea of careful control into turmoil. While he tried to form a coherent plan to dominate the situation, the blinding white light of impending orgasm obliterated all thoughts except the party going on between his legs.

Just as Viktor started to go with the flow, Jackie drew back from the base of his shaft and slowly slid him free of her tight hold. "Here ends lesson one."


Find Jorja on Facebook!/pages/Jorja-Lovett/179111238840916

Twitter @jorjalovett



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Friday, 27 July 2012

Love in the Land of Fire - Rebecca Brochu

Happy and honoured to showcase a rather, ahem, yummy cover and an intriguing new release, Love in the Land of Fire  by Rebecca Brochu!

In a world where one is either the ruler or the ruled, Enforcer Josiah Marx takes a case and finds himself drawn to Rafe Zweil, a submissive with a complicated past. Josiah has given up on finding love, but the new man sparks new feelings and brings out the dominant in him.

Can the two overcome all the obstacles that stand between them to find love in the Land of Fire?


"Shit!" Josiah immediately holsters his gun, wraps one hand around Rafe’s shoulder and spins him around until they’re face to face. Anger flares through him, anger at himself for not recognizing the other male sooner, anger at Rafe for not being where he was supposed to be in the first place. It all comes spilling out of him before he can think twice about it.

"What in the fuck were you doing? What in the hell possessed you to leave the apartment? I’ve seen your test scores, Zweil, so you’ve got no excuse for acting like a fucking idiot!"

Josiah shakes Rafe hard once before letting go of the submissive as if burned. Raking a hand through his blond hair he stalks towards the nearest switch and turns the dial all the way up until the apartment is flooded with light. In the now bright room he can see Rafe’s face clearly, can see an anger that matches his own rising up in the man, which is at odds with the mostly meek behavior he’s shown to Josiah since they’ve been together.

"I wasn’t aware that I was a prisoner, Marx, or that you’re apparently my warden. Although I suppose that was a foolish assumption to make. After all a cage is still a cage even if the bars are pretty this time around."

"Damn it all to hell, Rafe, that’s not what I meant and you fucking know it!"

"Are you sure about that, Josiah? Do you really not want to keep me locked away, hidden from the outside world like every-fucking-body else seems to?"

Josiah has no control over himself as he lunges forward, buries one hand in Rafe’s silky hair and yanks the submissive forward. Their lips meet harshly, all teeth and no finesse and Josiah runs his tongue roughly along the seam of Rafe’s mouth, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest when the he opens for him. Josiah sweeps inside, his tongue tangling hotly with Rafe’s even as he begins to crowd the submissive against the nearest wall.

They fit together perfectly, the long lean plains of Rafe’s body slotting into the more thickly muscled valleys of Josiah’s as if they’d been carved from the same single piece of stone, broken and divided and only now reunited. Josiah groans low in his throat at the feel of Rafe pressed against him and his cock hardens instantly at the combined sensations of touch and taste. Rafe echoes his groan and the sound of pleasure from the submissive doubles Josiah’s arousal, making him helpless to do anything but press closer, driving their bodies together and Rafe further against the wall.

Their tongues slide against and around each other, spit slick and eager to taste, to consume one another. Josiah knew it would be like this, knew it would be perfect and all-consuming the moment he laid eyes on Rafe. His hand loosens its tight grip in Rafe’s hair and slides slowly through the cool, thick locks to curl firmly around the back of the submissive’s neck, unable to control the impulse to completely dominate the other male. Rafe breaks the kiss, gasping for air and moaning openly as his head tips back, pressing deeper into the grip on his neck and exposing his throat and collar to Josiah’s hungry gaze.

It’s an instinctual move, the desire to show off for a dominant, the urge to entice a fitting and worthy partner with his unclaimed status, and the sight of it has Josiah practically snarling in victory. Rafe wants him as well, wants to be claimed on some level as much as Josiah wants to be the one doing the claiming. If he didn’t, if their desires didn’t match to some degree, Rafe would not respond so beautifully, would not be showing off his collar and trying to entice Josiah into claiming him.

His hand tightens slightly, as his head dips down until he can taste Rafe’s neck, can rack teeth and tongue across the tempting expanse, and suck tiny bruises into the vulnerable skin. He runs his tongue across the smooth surface of the collar, tongue flirting with the inlaid rubies and dragging lightly across the sensitive area where silver meets skin. Rafe bucks against him and Josiah tightens his hand in reprimand, pleased and aroused when he can actually feel Rafe’s knees weaken at the silent command even as the submissive obeys and stills.

Josiah pulls himself away from the mesmerizing taste and feel of Rafe, dragging his lips and tongue up across the exposed side of his neck so that he can whisper hotly in the submissive’s ear.

"Such a good boy, Rafe, such a sweet, beautiful boy. You were made to be ruled, made for me to own."

He claims Rafe’s mouth in another searing kiss, reveling in the breathless gasp and shaky moan it prompts.

"You’ll be so pretty for me, won’t you? So sweet and delicious when I have you begging, wanting what only I can give you. I can’t wait to have you bare and spread open before me."

Rafe shudders, a full body tremor that Josiah can feel perfectly, and it goes straight to his cock. He urges Rafe’s arms above his head with his free hand before grasping them both tightly and pinning them back against the wall. He feels Rafe go still against him, the tiny, almost unnoticed rocking of his hips stopping abruptly, but it doesn’t really register with him, doesn’t penetrate the fog of lust and need that’s slowly taking him over.

"P-Please, Josiah."

The plea comes out quietly, almost too quietly, and when Josiah hears it he takes it as a plea for more, more touch, more sensation. Just more. So he rocks his body against Rafe’s again as he mouths at the sensitive skin behind his ear. He loves the feel of his cock rubbing against the submissive’s, even muted as it is by the multiple layers of leather and cloth. It’s a heady feeling, something he wants more of even though it’s enough to drive him mad. He wants Rafe bare, wants to feel all of that silky skin against his own as he takes the other man down and apart.

"Oh the things I’ll make you do. I’ll make you love me and what I can give you."




Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Head Shy by Katherine Wyvern, and a giveaway!

On the desert planet Cydonia, Lune, a naturalist and explorer, is assigned a new trainee. The young Rider is supposed to follow him everywhere to learn the skills of his trade.

Lune would gladly be spared the trouble, especially when informed that the boy has been formerly apprenticed to a vicious and abusive Rider, and likely to be difficult and traumatized. But when Laz’law, a stunningly beautiful, fiercely touchy creature enters his life, Lune has no choice other than to employ his horse-whisperer’s patience to earn his trust and win his love.


It's out and about!

Head Shy is the third book in the Cydonian Tales series which started in December 2011 with Black Carnival. It is however a prequel to my debut novel. It is a short story, and can be read before the other books, as a little glimpse in the world of Cydonia.

The Cydonian Tales are a sci/fi series, but do not expect space ships and tentacles from these stories. Cydonia is a far planet where the past and future of human kind are somewhat mingled. There is technological progress and beautiful gothic buildings; artificially bred colonists and natural horsemanship. I was always fascinated by worlds like Darkover, in the Marion Zimmer Bradley books, or Firefly, the TV series by Joss Whedon, where old and futuristic ways of life meet and mingle.

However, the main spring of this particular story was the love between these two characters. It really "wanted" to be told, love poems and all, and the story practically wrote itself. I must admit that Head Shy is my favourite story from this series so far :-)

I hope you enjoy my imaginary world, and all the different love stories in it. Happy reading! Leave a comment with your e-mail for a chance to win a free copy of Head Shy!


When Lune entered the small locker room by the stable yard he was a bit disappointed to hear the water running in one of the showers. He was tired, dusty and sweaty, and he really just wanted to scrub himself clean and then go home. The thought of meeting somebody and having to chat and be social made him feel vaguely sick.

He wondered who had stayed at the yard so long. It was a holiday, after all. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly and stuffed it into his locker, hoping to hide in a different shower before whoever it was came out, but it was too late. The water stopped, and the shower door opened. He turned to look and nearly keeled over senseless when Laz’law, of all people, stepped out of it. He had a towel around his middle and was dripping wet. He had a dark, combative look in his eyes, but he relaxed somewhat when he saw Lune.

“Oh,” he said, “it’s you. I had no idea you were even around today.”

Lune sat down on a bench and with some effort said, “Came to trim some horses. For a friend. Thought you were off with your pals.”

“Oh, no,” said Laz’law, “I didn’t go after all. Too busy. I studied, and then I came to play with the mare for a while. Trustworthy, see? And by now I can tell you anything you could possibly want me to know about every bleeding plant, beast, and bug that lives between here and Arnia. You’ll have to take me with you. I’m your living encyclopedia. You’ll need me.”

He flipped the towel off his waist and began rubbing his head with it.

“Mh-h,” said Lune, out of general considerations that this wasn’t a good moment to trust his voice. He watched Laz’law in something like a stupor while the young man rubbed the towel on his head, face, and throat. He was lean and sculpted like a racing thoroughbred, with not an inch of softness about him, and every muscle bow-string-taut under the shiny, wet, dark skin. His chest bulged out exactly enough, strong without heaviness; his stomach was as neatly and squarely lined as a chocolate bar, and his cock …

Laz’law took the towel off his head and looked at him.

“Come on, man, ask me any question! Test time!”

“Uh …” said Lune, looking down. Don’t look into his eye, he thought. Never let a shy horse know you are after him. Never cross his path. Approach sideways, make for the shoulder. Keep your head down. Don’t look into his eye. Don’t look into his eyes. Don’t look into those damned eyes, Lune.

He swallowed. “I don’t know. Tell me about snakes, to begin with.” He bit his lower lip. Snakes? he thought. Can’t you be a bit more obvious, you demented old sucker? He crossed his legs tightly to keep his fast-growing hard-on from showing.

Laz’law launched into a fast-paced description of every living species of snake known on Cydonia, specifying size, coloring, habitat and distinguishing features. He did sound like a living encyclopedia. Lune wondered when he had done all this reading, but then, like so many other rebellious youngsters he had known, he was scarily keen when he put his mind to it.

“And these are the snakes you can eat,” Laz’law said proudly, before rattling out the whole bleeding list of them. Lune bent down to lean his elbows on his knees and his forehead on his palms, aiming for an overall look of weary but concentrated attention and peering at him sideways, from under his thumb. It would keep the bulge in his pants out of view, but he was going to die of it. He made a mental note to wear somewhat softer trousers next time he was around Laz’law.

Oh lord, he thought, shifting painfully, so this is the day I get a sprained cock, yes?

Laz’law stood there talking, exhibiting his nakedness now with the total forgetfulness of the true sportsman. He had toweled his breast dry, and his skin was like matte bronze. But some water still clung in the hollow of his throat, and one drop began a shiny descent along his torso, outlining every perfect bulge and groove of his chest and belly. He had two twin silver-derm tattoos on his chest, paw-prints of sorts, as if a particularly loving and artistic panther had dipped its feet in silver paint and then laid them on his breast, side by side. Lune swallowed again. Another drop of water ran down Laz’law’s body. He toweled the inside of his legs and his narrow, perfect hips. He passed the towel under his balls, and round his cock, which fell back and bounced around, inviting…


Head Shy @Evernight:

Head Shy on Amazon:

Thursday, 12 July 2012

Doris O'Connor - Tiger Scars - Give Away!

I have the honour of hosting Doris O'Connor again, with Tiger Scars! If you like the blurb and excerpt below, leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book!


Can some scars ever truly heal?
Cherie ran away from Ink once. She is not going to get the chance to do so again, but helping her heal will take all of his skills as a Dom. Using Shibari, Knife play, and Ménage sex, he shows her that pleasure can be found in the things that haunt her.
Emotionally and physically scarred Cherie has sought refuge at Club Ink, where she keeps everyone at arm's length. When Ink forces her to face up to her demons, does her submission hold the key to her future happiness? Or will their shared past destroy them once and for all?


She was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her. With her arms cuffed high above her head her bountiful tits displayed beautifully, her abundant curves covered in the marks left by his claws, his cum drying on her belly, all he saw was his woman, his mate. He ground his teeth and forced his tiger to stand down, aware of Cherie's renewed agitation. She yanked on her restraints, her expressive eyes deep pools of molten chocolate widening in fear.
"Stop fidgeting." He delivered the words with a quick openhanded swat to her mound, and Cherie's hips bucked off the bed. She bit her lips, and he smiled at her moan when he trailed his index finger through her wet pussy lips and up towards her anus. Her increased scent and the renewed gush of moisture coating his hand told him all he needed to know, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Thought of punishment went out of his head, and instead he followed his tiger's instincts and lowered his head. He inhaled the sweet scent calling him, his fingers digging into Cherie's thighs to spread her wider still. Her nether lips opened beautifully, so all of her quivering, glistening cunt was there for him to feast over. He had to taste her, to bring her to the brink of orgasm again and again. His smile turned wicked, and he blew against her wet folds. Cherie bucked underneath him, her long drawn out hiss of pleasure music to his ears. He allowed himself one long, slow, lick along her slit, and then bit down on her clit.
Every muscle in Cherie's body tensed; her breath hitched; her thighs trembled and clenched around his head, and his smile deepened. Nothing used to bring her to the brink faster. He blew against the engorged bud again and allowed his claws to run out. He dug them into her thighs just hard enough to break the skin, to remind her who was in charge.
"Do you need help keeping these open for me?" He growled the words into her pussy, allowing himself another slow lick of her sweet juices, before he raised his head to look at her.
Eyes wide as saucers, her skin flushed, Cherie shook her head, and Ink withdrew his claws and sank his thumb into her nether hole.
His tiger roared at the mark of his possession, Cherie's whimper of submission making Ink's cock harden in record time again.
"I can't hear you, girl."
He trailed the fingers of his other hand along the lips of her cunt, swirling it slowly around her pearl, and Cherie panted her answer.
"Sorry … no … oh … yes … please. Oh God, don't stop."
He flicked her clit once, twice, and inserted another finger into her sphincter, all the while keeping up the circling motion around her clit, designed to drive her higher and higher. His balls grew tight, and his tiger growled at the soft feminine moans filling the air.
He'd played with plenty of willing and experienced subs, and trained lots of new ones, but nothing beat the sweet responsiveness of this woman. That she would give herself so trustingly to him after everything that had happened to her, blew him away. The tell-tale tightening of her quivering muscles under his fingers told him how close she was, and he stepped up his assault.
"Remember who owns your orgasms, baby girl."
His warning just seemed to excite her further, and he groaned watching her body climb. His cock throbbed, and he tortured himself by rubbing it along the velvet skin of her hip, leaving a wet trail of his pre-cum behind. It took every ounce of his self-control to not just allow himself to slide deep into her welcoming heat. She'd fit him like a glove the first time round, so tight and hot, it had been a miracle he'd had managed to pull out and not spill his seed inside her, like his tiger had urged him to do. He'd only ever lost control with Cherie. From the minute his tiger had scented her all those years ago, he'd known she was his, and she always would be. But he was older and wiser now, and they had a lot of ground to cover still, until they could even think of moving on. The reminder how much was at stake here focused his sole attention on the woman writhing underneath him. Her body tensed, her skin flushed all over, and just as she was about to fly off into ecstasy he withdrew.
Her eyes flew open, and she tried to tense her thighs around him to stop him from leaving. Silly little tigress played right into his hands. He bit down on the soft skin of her inner thigh and slapped the globes of her ass. The red imprint of his hand stood out against the pale skin, and Cherie froze the minute she realized her mistake.
"I'm, sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to." Her husky whisper had him harden to the point of pain, and he slapped her ass again, satisfied to see the shudder going through her. A few more slaps followed, each one making her wetter until she twisted onto her side of her own accord, grinding her thighs together to get herself off. He put considerable more force behind his last slap to her now red hot ass and then pulled her down the bed as far as he could, stretching her legs wide and turning her on her front.
"Such pretty words, but you don't mean them, do you?" He stood back perusing her, and he chuckled at the mutinous look she threw at him over her shoulder.
Much better, baby. Show me some of your sass.
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry, Sir."
He had to look away to hide his smile, but oh it felt good to have her goading him whilst she was completely at his mercy.


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Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Adonis Devereux - Love Comes Twice - A review

First of all, the bad news. I must confess that this is not my favourite of Adonis Devereux's books I read so far. It's not for any specific fault of the book; I just feel that the scope and intensity of the story needed more length to come into full bloom. The majesty of the plot deserved a more measured pace; the intricacy of the sex scene a more nuanced description; the dazzling richness of the world building could fill volumes on its own; and the conflicts and development of the characters (both considerable) could have been explored even more fully. My calculation is that the book is too short by at least a half.

But, for all that, I could not be convinced to cut off a star from my rating. Just perhaps a little tip from a corner of the fifth star.

The book still stands head, shoulders, nipples and navel above the crowd. It's almost sacrilegious to list this under Romance. Romance happens (very much; hot, passionate, no nonsense, heartrending romance) but this is first and foremost a wonderful fantasy story, set in a world of flabbergasting complexity.

Gilalion is so vast, so rich and so unique that really there is no point in trying to describe it. There is a handful of novels set in this universe already, and more to come, I am sure, so it's not a place that can be summed up in a paragraph or so. There are human kingdoms and Ausir kingdoms (Ausir look like humans, except they are longer lived, and have horns, and are all in all hotter and smarter). There are wrathful, quarrelsome gods, trolls and giants. But not boring and bald like it sounds here. Grand, and majestic and surprising. Look, you got to go and read the books, instead of sitting there reading my review.

The hero of the story here is Kiltarin, the Prince of the Larenai Ausirs, son of the God-king Kelvirith who appeared briefly in Bride for the God-king. Being the prince of a kingdom with an immortal king has its drawbacks: knowing he is not likely to ever inherit the throne, Kiltarin leaves his place at court to hunt Nohrs (let's say trolls, but scarier) in the wilderness.

In the wilderness he makes friends, here and there, like the Tamari Ausirs, an estranged Ausir population far in a barren icy country. Discovering the capital of this country, Icedeep, and its local customs and traditions is already enough to justify the price of the book.

The heroine is an amazing, complex, mysterious, loving, lusty, dangerous, deeply dark woman named Riane. When the Tamari king, on his death-quest, finds her asleep under the ice of a frozen lake, and wakes her up, she has no memory of her identity, except that in her sleep `she heard the whispers of the world'. And if that is not awesome, I don't know what is.

Much of what happens in the book has to do with the mystery of who and what Riane is, and it is quite a ride to discover the truth.

There are moments towards the end of the book when I thought, `Is this the same book I started the other day?', such is the deep change that comes upon all the characters involved. It might easily have been a trilogy!

Highly recommended.