Wicked Wednesday with Dana Littlejohn: Seven Year Switch

Hello everyone,
Welcome back to wicked Wednesdays! Today I Dana Littlejohn will be your blogger giving you a look at book I of my Happily Ever After: By Any Means Necessary series: Seven Year Switch.

Sonja Winters enjoyed the good life with a great job and being married to Kyle, the man of her dreams. As she prepared to celebrate their seven year anniversary she came across a secret her husband had kept from her. Would it alter the course of their lives forever? Yes! Would it end their marriage? Or open a brand new chapter?

Excerpt:

“Oh my God, girl. You look like hell,” Charlene said when Sonja opened the door.

Sonja rolled her eyes and walked to the living room, leaving the door open. She plopped down on the couch, sniffed loudly and heaved a big sigh. Charlene followed and sat in the chair opposite the sofa, crossing her legs.

“Tell me what happened, Sonja. When I spoke to you yesterday, you were all geeked up about your weekend. You were going to stop and get some food to make his special dinner and everything.”

Sonja dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t even know where to start. It’s all so unreal.”

“What could have happened in that short amount of time that’s so bad?”

Sonja shifted into the corner. “Kyle is having an affair,” she said pushing the disheveled hair from her face.

Charlene’s crossed leg dropped to the floor. Her shoe made a dull thud against the waxed wood. She leaned forward waving her arms back and forth.

“No! No way! I refuse to believe that.” She pointed an accusing finger at her friend. “That man loves you like no man I have ever seen. He would only see you in a room full of Janet Jacksons, Marylyn Monroes and Beyonces. Uh-uh, somebody lied to you.”

Sonja’s eyes filled again as she nodded. “I know, I thought so, too,” she sniffed. “But he said so. He told me himself that he was seeing another woman.”

Charlene sat back and shook her head stubbornly. “Uh-uh, you must have misunderstood him.”

“No, Charlene, I didn’t. I found a collar in his gym bag and confronted him with it.”

Her friend’s brows furrowed. “A collar? What does a collar—”

“He says he wears it when he’s with her. She teaches him how to be a good husband,” she explained doing quotation marks in the air.

Charlene’s bewilderment continued. She leaned forward over her knees. “Huh?”

Sonja shrugged. “I don’t know, but that’s what he said.”

Charlene rubbed her temple and stood. “Okay, now I’m really confused. I’m going to make some coffee to clear my head and you look like you need some.”

The heaviness in Sonja’s chest compressed even more, creating a knot at the base of her throat as she watched her friend walk into the kitchen.

“Sonja, have you been in here today?” Charlene called out.

“No.”

“Who made the coffee?”

“Kyle usually sets the machine on automatic so I have coffee before I leave for work in the morning.”

“You put him out and he makes sure to start the coffee maker before he leaves?” her friend called out to her.

Sonja shrugged at the surprised tone in her friend’s question.

“That doesn’t sound like a man caught cheating to me,” Charlene added.

Sonja twisted her lips as she looked up and accepted the cup from her friend. Charlene returned to her seat and held up an envelope.

“This was on the counter for you.”

Sonja saw her name the envelope she held out and sputtered. “So.”

Charlene didn’t bother to mask her annoyed grunt. “Don’t you think you should read this to see what the man has to say?” Charlene asked, brandishing the letter. “This could all be some kind of crazy misunderstanding, like I said.”

Sonja sipped loudly. “You read it. I don’t care what he has to say.”

Charlene rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just being stubborn.” She tore open the envelope and glanced over it. “Umm, I think you should read this,” she said after a short while and offered her the letter again.

Charlene’s tone changed from concerned and chastising to extremely serious. Though reluctance riddled through her, now Sonja almost feared not taking the pages. She put her cup on the coffee table and cautiously extended her hand as if the papers would burn her. She lowered her eyes to read the words and her breath caught half way down the page. As she read on, her heart raced. She gnawed on her bottom lip, eyes widening and jaw dropping as she shuffled to the next page. Suddenly her hands clenched, crumpling the edge of the letter.

Sonja pressed her lips together into a thin line. Every so often she tore her attention away to see if Charlene was watching her. Respectfully, her friend sat quietly staring into space drinking her coffee, seemingly oblivious to Sonja’s changing state of mind. Sonja took a deep breath and turned her attention back to the letter. It was informative and answered many of the questions that plagued her through the night as she cried herself to sleep. Kyle ended it with “I love you” and a phone number that wasn’t his. Silently she let the pages sail to the table before her and raised her cup to her mouth again.

“Well?” Charlene asked.

“Well what?” she answered her voice echoing inside the cup.

Charlene scoffed. “Don’t ‘well what’ me, Sonja. What are you going to do?”

“About what?”

Charlene groaned and threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh my God. You can be so stubborn. Talking to you is like pulling teeth sometimes. I swear!”

“Don’t be mad at me, Charlene. I need you right now,” she said sadly, returning the mug to the table.

“Look, I didn’t read the whole thing, okay? I stopped when he started going into how he wants to serve you, but didn’t think you would let him so he went to her to feed his need, or something like that.” She held her hand up. “When I got there, I thought it was getting a little too deep for someone other than his wife to be reading. I saw the collar. It’s still in the kitchen. I really don’t know what to say about that thing.” She shook her head before taking a sip of her drink. “Whatever works for you and all that, but now that you have read how he feels what are you going to do about it?”

Sonja crossed her arms around her chest. “Nothing.”

Charlene leaned forward staring at her. “Nothing?”

Sonja nodded to confirm.

Her friend fell back against the sofa cushion. “So that’s it? It’s over between you and Kyle?”

Charlene’s words hit her like a slap in the face. Sonja blinked away the instant tears and averted her eyes. Charlene pressed on.

“You’re just going to let some other woman feed your man’s needs when clearly it should be you since you’re his wife?”

Sonja’s pulse raced and her breathing sped up.

Charlene scooted to the edge of the couch and pointed at her. “You’re an intelligent, educated and sexy black woman capable of doing whatever it takes to make her man happy, mentally and physically. Are you seriously going to let another female come along and take your man from you?”

Sonja pressed her lips together in defiance and turned away. Charlene leaned to the right, almost falling over to catch her eye.

“So you’re saying you’re okay with that?”

*********

Available now in print and ebook via Dana's website   and print at Amazon 

Follow Dana on Twitter: @liljohndana   Facebook  and Instagram: @danascrochetdelights 

About Dana:

Dana grew up in Brooklyn, New York, but escaped to Indianapolis, In in 1994 where she still lives. She and her husband have four grown children. She works a full time job and writes erotic and FLR romance with all of the free time she doesn't have. Dana loves chocolate, music with men serenading her, drinking wine while getting a foot massage and floggers. She indulges in all of the above ever chance she gets! 

Wicked Wednesday: Judy Kammeraad "Teach Me Too"

Welcome back to Wicked Wednesday! Today we have Judith Kammeraad giving us a look into her book Teach me Too formally of Secret Publishing now available at I Heart Publishing.

Blurb:
Soul-melding sex turns up the temperature in this tale of empowerment via unselfish love. Injured in body and mind by her students, Lyla Gray tries for a new life as governess on the DuPree orange and alpaca ranch in Citrus County, Florida.
Lyla recovers her professional confidence quickly, but her drive for a normal life—including romance—is something else. What is she supposed to do when, despite a libido on overdrive, her trauma rules out contact with...the scary part of men? It’s not easy with sex –exuding young males all around, including sweet, delicious looking Mark DuPree and his hungry, sad green eyes. Mark seems to be spoiling for a fight with her all the time, and he’s lost in grief and work demands and looking for someone to help him regain some kind of life.
Vandalism, mysterious deaths, community feuds, and tending to the tattered emotions of those worse off than she is gobble up Lyla’s obsession with herself.But will Mark help her save herself from the past and learn that there’s nothing scary about loving after all?


Excerpt:
Piles of books surrounded Lyla and Libby when Mark poked his nose into the attic room. He looked rather mulish to her.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. Come down to my study, please.”
Lyla’s back stiffened. He demanded her presence, did he? What was it about that man that made her feel so annoyed? Why couldn’t he act like his easy-going brother? They could have so much fun working side by side in this house.
She started off to Mark’s lair, as far from her room as possible, thank God. She wanted to keep that grimace at arm’s length.
She forced a few deep breaths and halted on the stairs to consult with her inner self. What did Mark say that set her off? Did he mean it the way she took it? She felt sweaty and cranky. Don’t be stupid, Lyla. Don’t start out on the wrong foot. She stopped in front of Mark’s open door.
She opened her palms to him. “You summoned me. Here I am.”
His oversized, tidy desk dominated the center of his uncluttered office. Books and organized stacks of papers filled shelves on three walls. She drew in the odor of leather and wood, aromas that spoke of testosterone and set her anxiety vibrating like a violin string. Just enough to keep her on edge.
He motioned her to the cowhide chair across from his desk. He sat down in its twin, with his back to a double window that looked out over the back lawn and the Big River. Good. Just keep the desk between them. Already the hairs on the nape of her neck stood at attention, and he hadn’t said a word.
Lyla sat up straight. The chair was comfortable but made for a man’s long thighs, so she kept sliding forward in the well-rubbed cowhide. If only her mouth weren’t so dry. She forced down a couple of swallows and turned her face to sniff the leather, as if that could immunize her against masculine power. She couldn’t get comfortable with him over there ogling her, judging her.
Mark stood up and extended his long-fingered hand, the nails short and clean. Her hand in his felt like a chocolate in an overly warm room, but she lacked the will to remove it. At the same time, his sober eyes on hers made her anxiety twang. He tipped the plantation blinds to minimize the glare on her eyes. Hmmm, all right, she could give him points for that.
She rubbed her wrists against each other, leery of him as a male, maybe a man who missed having a woman. Already he put her teeth on edge and pulled her closer at the same time.
At first they engaged in general conversation about his two children. She burned to pry more out of him.
“What are your goals?” she probed. “What do you want me to do for them?”
“They need to learn, especially English and math—and anything you think is important. I want to send them to college.”
“Ah, that helps. Do you have a copy of the local curriculum?”
He waved the question away. “I thought that was up to the teacher.”
“What about textbooks?”
“Order what you want—Dick and Jane or something.”
Inside she growled. “Well, I expect you’ll want your stamp on their education. Do you value creativity, or rote learning? Are you a liberal thinker or conservative? Not that they won’t experience my influence as well.”
“All that. Whatever works.” He passed a hand over his face.
Annoyance bubbled over in her stomach. “My goodness, haven’t you thought about the shape of your children’s education at all?”
He stood up and stared out the window at the wide part of the river. Had she irritated him? Good. Stick a match under him.
“Damn it, just teach them,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Can’t you do that?”
His distraught gesture pulled on her reins. Don’t jump to conclusions, said an inner warning. You did that when you trusted your students. You don’t know what’s going on with this man. The blood throbbed in her veins from sparring with him or trying to. This was like a good jolt of caffeine, honing the sharp, suspecting edges in her mind.
She paused while she restrained herself a little further. “Mark, I’m not trying to wear you down. I don’t want a dispassionate discussion. Surely you have hopes…objectives.”
Mark jerked in his chair. “Don’t you have any idea how to take care of this without me telling you everything?” His eyes were flinty.
She met his gaze, her chin high. “Of course, I do. I know how to do it all, but I can help your children so much better with you involved. Your resistance is holding me back.”
His eyes blazed, and he clenched his fists. She shouldn’t have worked herself up, but, damn it, she enjoyed it, and she liked seeing his eyes darken with feeling. Heat rolled off him to her and made her shiver. Inside her, where he couldn’t see, longing unrolled itself, a carpet, long untrodden. She tried to stuff it back inside.
He looked from side to side, as if searching for something. “Can’t you see I’m at a loss how to proceed with the children? I’m at a loss how to deal with you, too, if you want to know, though I shouldn’t admit weakness.”
“Maybe you don’t need to deal with me, as you say. But we do have to talk. I need to know where you stand.”
He turned to the window. He waited, his words below the surface, like a long forgotten wreckage, and when he faced her, his jaw was all hard angles again.
They started to talk, both at once.
“Mark, I…”
“It’s…”
They sighed.
He cleared his throat. “Look, I run this place. Office work, phone calls, orders, sales, manning the winery—that’s my day and part of my night, with my dad’s work knocking me into next week. I need to be steel-minded, and I make all the decisions—all of them, but I’m out of my depth here. He
opened his hands in an expansive gesture. “I really need you to take charge of this.”
Approval cuddled up in Lyla’s heart. Wasn’t it nice that, after all, Mark could concede his shortcomings without it bringing him down? That made him a man like her father, the pastor who was quick to say he didn’t know it all. A real man.
“Mark, why don’t you let me tell you some of my ideas? Then, if you agree, I’ll start that way. Let’s just talk, okay? I merely need to know if we’re on the same page about the children.”
He flopped back down in his chair. “Yes, all right.”
She summarized her observations so far. Elizabeth could start at grade level in math. Reading was a mixed story. Lyla talked about passive word recognition and phonics skills. “Teaching those is my job.” She explained the importance of writing alongside reading.
His face cleared. “You mean Libby can tell a story but not put it in writing?”
“Exactly. That’s not too unusual but frustrating for her, given the large number of words she wants to use. I have an idea she’s pretty bright, and she’ll learn quickly. She’ll have a lot to write about.”
Mark grinned. “That makes me proud.” His hands were in his hair, his elbows on his desk. “So, reading and writing are perfect partners.”
She smiled. “Yes, the light will go on. She will start choosing to read more often than doing something else.”
He laughed. “You mean soaking up television and punching her brother.”
“Yes, she already loves stories. She told me about Jane Eyre today. You were there.”
He grinned. “I hate to bear bad tidings, but she didn’t read the book. We watched it on television together not too long ago.”
“And she loved the story, right?”
Mark gave a tentative smile. “Yes, and she was in heaven when she learned a governess was coming here.”
“Well, I want to give her the skills to express herself. Her delights, her fears—everything in life.”
Mark agreed that Libby would like that. “That’s how you get on top of life before it crushes you, I imagine.”
“Yes. I can’t say I’ve mastered that a hundred percent myself—getting on top.” She remembered the blood all over the closet on the day words had failed her. Raw fear alone had helped her to survive, and it was still with her now sometimes.
Mark bounded to the opposite side of the desk. “You don’t look too well all of a sudden. Wait a minute.”
He returned in a moment with a glass of water. “Here, clear your mind.”
The water felt cool, Mark’s response warming.
“I’m sorry. I can see I put you too much on the spot.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t.” Her voice was a dry croak. How could she explain that fear unsettled her?
Mark leaned against the edge of the desk, watching her nurse her water.
This put her face on the level of his crotch. She eyed the wide leather belt holding his jeans low on his hips. She could smell the cowhide on him, along with gentle soap. The honest scents kept her anxiety at bay. Lyla claimed a deep breath and lifted her eyes to Mark’s face in time to see an earnest smile replace his knit eyebrows.
“Maybe it would be more fun to talk about my son. I’m sure you’re wondering about Raisin’s name?”
She nodded.
“It grew on him over the years. Most of his mishaps had something to do with his raisin obsession. Early on, he stuffed several of them far up his nose to save them for later. The same with his ears. Another time, his raisin stash sent Ralph to the vet hospital with kidney trouble.”
“Yes, I can see Raisin’s difference from his sister. He meant it when he said he didn’t want to go to school, but he’s a sucker for stories too. I intend to draw him in with that. And raisins.”
Mark’s attentive eyes indicated he followed her ideas for his offspring.
Finally her talk turned to him, the father. “Libby and Raisin need you to read to them. A lot. And talk to them about the stories and the life lessons in them.”
“That’s what I pay you for, isn’t it?” His abrupt tone rankled “You read to them. I’ll work and make money so I can pay you to read.”
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Your children need both of us if this is going to happen for them. I’m telling you.”
Mark steepled his fingers and peered at her as clouds gathered on his face.
She had to win this round. “Reading can’t be something you do only in school, Mark. Reading has to be something the children care about deeply, because it connects them with their dearest love.”
He took the bait. “What’s that?”
She looked into his earnest eyes. “You.”
He paced in front of the window.
Finally she changed the subject. “What about the teenager you described in your letter?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him. It was hard to repress her smirk.
He chuckled then. The thunderclouds cleared off his face, and he gave her a sheepish glance. “That was Robert. I don’t know why I wrote that. He’s a college graduate now, with a degree in agriculture and business, to the benefit of the ranch. I suppose it’s too late to tame him now, anyway.”
“Maybe he doesn’t need taming. Maybe he needs freedom.”
“Look, it was a joke, writing that, and partly I was irked with him at the time, because I wanted him to stop goofing around and take responsibility. I’m, er, ashamed of myself now. Of course Robert works. He just has fun while he works.” Mark paused, scratching his head. “And you’re right. Robert feels shackled to a job he doesn’t love. I’m sorry about that, because he deserves better.”
A man who can apologize, purred the warm, fuzzy spot in her heart.
Mark sighed. “I’m sorry too, for the offensive things I said when we met. It seems a long time ago now, and I can’t believe I was not more cordial.”
“That was today.”
“Well, I was angry. I was irritated. I was frustrated. And I was unbelievably tired. I know those things do not make an excuse for my bad behavior. Please forgive me for that. I need a second chance. With you, with my kids…and with life.” His eyes looked contrite.
That squeezed Lyla’s heart. “We both need that, I think.”
“The truth is I’m the one who needs to be tamed. Ever since my wife died and my father started getting more eccentric and depressed, I felt like the only adult in the family, with this strange cast of characters around me.” He made a wide circle with his arm.
“What happened to your wife?”
He lowered his eyes and hunched his shoulders forward.
The pain in his eyes made her heart turn over. “I’m sorry.” she said. “I have a way of saying the wrong things.
“No, we might as well get to know each other, so, yes, my past is a place you should be able to visit. My wife Ruthie died three years ago. She had a heart attack shortly after giving birth. The baby died too. Raisin was two, and Libby was five.
“My father was undependable, my brother just a kid, or so I thought. Mattie kept our bodies and souls together in every practical way after Ruthie died, just as she did before, when my wife was sick, and even earlier, when my mother passed away. I ran the ranch…I don’t know how. Emotionally, I was shattered and exhausted. Maybe the others were too.”
Mark paused but finally continued in baby steps. “So…you see…I…I don’t really know what we
need. I don’t know…what I want, except in the broadest way. I want my kids kept away from danger and bullying. I want them nurtured the way their mother can’t do anymore.”
His groping fingers made his hair stand up like a child’s. Lyla wanted to laugh at this sign of his agitation, but she knew this was serious. Important.
He cleared his throat. “So, maybe that addresses your question. I want less aggravation. I want some kind of life back. I want laughter in my house. Maybe you can help me with that. If you think that’s not your job, I understand.”
She nodded assent.
“How about you, Lyla? What do you want? What do you need?” He reached for her hand.
How could she tell him the truth? Hers wasn’t an easy story to tell, especially to a man.
He turned her hands over and examined the scars on the inner surface of her wrists. “What’s this?”
She turned her eyes to him. “What do you know about me? Did you notice I haven’t worked for over a year?”
“Yes, I did notice that.”
“Didn’t you think it was strange? Didn’t you want to ask me about it?”
He gave a rueful laugh. “Nothing you may have to hide is stranger than what you’ll find right here on the funny farm.” Those remarkable green eyes riveted her to the point. “What I needed to know when you answered my ad was that you were willing to come here and take on my kids…and the rest of us.”
He waited a few beats. “I can see somebody hurt you. The rest of your story I’d very much like to hear when you are ready, a little at a time, or all at once. Lyla, no one will hurt you here.”
He cleared his throat. “I run a rat race around here every day, but in the long run I have time to listen. He smiled and took her hand again, as he rested his elbows on the desk. He looked over their hands into her eyes. “Let’s talk again, okay?”
This moment didn’t last as long as she wanted. Mark stood up and led her to the door. “You know where you can find me.” He closed the door behind her, and she heard his boots squeak on the rug as he returned to his desk.
Her breath hitched. A sensitive man who tells you his story on the first day, said her inner self. Why was she standing here outside the door, just when he got her interested?
She didn’t get him. First he lit a fire in her, but then he called it quits. It felt exhilarating to argue with him, though she felt strong empathy too. He gave her a peek inside him, when they’d only just met. Maybe she wanted to do the same for him.
Inside her quarters, she leaned against the door. “It turns out you want the same things I do, Leather Man. So you say.” She closed her eyes and ran her hands up and down her arms. She growled as she revisited his words. “I want some kind of life back too. I am shattered and exhausted too, so if you can help me, that’s what I want you to do.” She tasted tears in her throat. “And I want to help you too.”
In her memory, his eyes flashed. She groaned and opened her eyes wide, her pulse awakened. “And I want to fight with you too.”

My website is www.judithkammeraad.com  
People can get to know me on my two Facebook pages:  judith kammeraad or author judith kammeraad.


Bio:
Judith Kammeraad grew up a good girl under the triple onus of preacher-teacher-author’s kid with a fecund imagination as a survival tool. Making up stories proved almost involuntary, and books were her best friends. Dad reinforced words as the best fun ever.
She married her high school sweetheart, who brought out her naughty side at last. The Kammeraads settled down in Michigan and raised two daughters as creative as their mom, encouraging them to embrace their inner quirkiness. Judith devoted herself to a teaching career and created her stories and poems on the side.
These days the Kammeraads and their talented sheltie live in Florida near their six grandchildren, who inspire stories about the mental workings of children. In a secret life she writes sweaty novels that break hearts and warm the spirit. And keep her laughing and crying all day.

Wicked Wednesday with Nia Farrell

AS WICKED AS YOU WANT (Forever Ours Book 1) 

by Nia Farrell

A BDSM MMF ménage Victorian erotic romance, set in 1868 Chicago and London

Length 155,227 words / 609 pages Amazon Kindle https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01ICAW8LI/ or http://mybook.to/FO1 

Teasers and excerpt: 

https://niafarrell.wordpress.com/as-wicked-as-you-want/ or http://bit.ly/29r2ncu 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31079535-as-wicked-as-you-want

Blurb: 
Elena “Lane” Davenport is a struggling artist who’s been living as a man since the Civil War. Suffering from “soldier’s heart” (PTSD), facing arrest for failing to officially muster out, Lane is about to lose everything when an offer of help comes from the most unexpected of places. Edward Wainwright is a British history professor—and Lane/Elena’s stepbrother. A dominant man with forbidden passions, he comes to America with news of their mother’s death and finds himself twice tempted. There’s instant attraction between Lane and Edward. Reclaiming her true gender to slip past the Pinkertons should make things easier…except Edward wants both Elena and her studio assistant Daniel O'Flaherty. He hopes that Daniel will eventually submit to him, but they’ll need to learn—when it comes to Elena—just how much Daniel is willing to share. Three soulmates are destined to find each other. Chance brings them together. Will Fate tear them apart? Written for ages 18+.



Excerpt:
“What was that?” I rasped, my voice an octave lower than normal. I’d been a vocal partner, urging him on, begging him to finish, yelping when he accidentally hit a sore spot, crying his name into the mattress when his curled fingers hit another, sweeter place.

“The French call it la petite morte,” he said. “‘The little death.’”

I arched a brow. “Then they have misnamed it,” I muttered in the same language, earning a smile from the good professor. “Pardon me if I don’t reserve judgment, but there was nothing little about that.”

Edward smiled, indulging me. “You are correct. There was nothing little about that. You were magnificent, my dear. Responsive beyond my expectations.”

I rolled on my side to face him. “Beyond your expectations? You mean to say, it’s not like that every time?”

He arched a curious brow. “Hardly. I take it your other partners have not pleased you equally well.”

“Edward,” I said solemnly, “I’ve had no other partners. Remember, I asked you to teach me?”

He stared at me in disbelief, as if I were some strange creature, never before catalogued, that had wandered into his camp and made myself at home by his fire.

I attempted to lighten the mood. “If you’re going to make free with my body, then I reserve the right to ask questions. It’s only fair.”

He rolled onto his back and buried his face in his hands. “My God. What have I done?”

“Nothing that I did not want, or refuse to stop,” I told him. “I wanted to know what pleased you, and it was my choice to submit. Come, I’m not a child. Disregarding when your fingers fucked me senseless, of course, my eyes have been wide open.”

“That’s no excuse,” he grated. “You…you’re a virgin. You couldn’t know.”

“Edward. Edward. May I remind you that I had a brother with friends until the war divided them? And that I served three years in the company of men who loved to brag of their conquests and adventures? Admittedly, I can still be shocked—I mean, what the New Moneys want still boggles my imagination—but surely by now you’ve realized that I am no fragile Miss. Granted, I shall strive to be proper in company, but when it’s the two of us alone, in private, behind closed doors, well, eventually I hope to be as wicked as you want.”

He remained silent, processing, digesting what I’d said. He reached and brushed a finger against my cheek. “I promise you, I shall only take what you are willing to give.”

“And I shall strive to do the same,” I told him.

He tapped my chin and chuckled. “You shall, shall you?”

I knew, if lines were drawn, I would be compelled to try and cross them, but it was my intention to reciprocate. “Mmm, yes, indeed. Hard though it may be. You see, I’ve much catching up to do.”

“So you say.” Drawing a line down my throat, he kept going until he’d reached the top of my breast. I’d bound them, of course, when I was playing the man. Although there was little to be said for the comfort of corsetry (save for the ease it could bring to one’s aching back), I was pleased by the swell of my bosom, laced-up or not.

So was Edward. He asked no permission beyond the look he flicked my way, from breast, to face, and back again, signaling his intention as clearly as if he’d spoken it. Fingers spread, he cupped, then grasped my breast, pressing his palm against the dark rose of my nipple. The feel of his hand and the sound that came from his throat made my breath catch, escaping as a whimper.

“Ooh. Yes. Oh. Yeeessss.” I hissed, arching into his grasp.

“Do you like that, pet?” he murmured, fingers kneading my mound of flesh. “What about this?”

He ducked his head and opened his mouth to take me in, suckling me. I felt the cord connected to my womb, charged with sexual energy that electrified my core and made me tremble in his embrace. He sucked harder, lathing me with his tongue, catching the tip between his teeth and biting me—an erotic mix of pleasure and pain that made me acutely aware of the emptiness between my legs.

“Oh, Edward!”

When I reached for his nearly-dry hair, intending to thread my fingers in his curls, he caught my wrist and pinned it to the mattress. “Leave it,” he ordered, “or I shall tie you up.”

The thought of being bound, helpless, at his mercy…well, what else could I do? I thrust ten fingers in his hair.

“Want to play, do you?” Growling, he grabbed my hands and brought my arms over my head, holding my smaller wrists in one large hand.

“I want you,” I said, grinding my hips against him. “Please, Edward.”

“No.” A sibilant whisper, followed by torment. He pinched my nipple and twisted it cruelly. Tears sprung in my eyes but he did not stop, not even when I begged him for mercy.

“No.” He brushed his lips against my cheeks and tasted tears. He bathed my face with his tongue, swallowing my cry when he squeezed my breast hard enough to bruise. He kissed me, then, claiming my mouth, every part of it, with lips and teeth and tangled tongues.
I whimpered in his mouth. It echoed, returning on a moan dredged up from the depths of his being. “Please, I beg you!”

“You beg me, hmm. For what?” he asked, knowing full well what I wanted.

“Your cock,” I gasped. “I want your cock.”

He released one of my hands and brought it down to his front, pressed my palm against his erection, and wrapped my fingers as far as they could reach around his girth.

“There,” he said, thrusting against my hand. “Happy?”

“No, Edward. Please! I want your cock inside me.”

He smiled darkly, his turquoise gaze fastened on my lips.

“Careful what you wish for, pet.”

Facebook- www.Facebook.com/authornikayrountree

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Wicked Wednesday with Renee Rose

Excerpt  From His Human Slave by Renee Rose 

He spun the cage back so she faced him once more. “Open cage,” he commanded, and the voice-activated lock clicked. To her, he said, “Come out.” 

She didn’t move. 

His tone went sharp. “Do not anger me a second time, Lamira.” 

Well, apparently he’d already cowed her completely because his words went straight to her chest, creating a sudden tightening and sending her instantly into motion. She hated how easily he’d mastered her. One stupid spanking and she rushed to please him. 

She sniffed back the tears and attempted to push up to her hands and knees—no easy feat with her wrists and ankles bound. 

“Release wrist cuffs. Release ankle cuffs,” he commanded. They sprang apart but not off. 

She backed out of the cage, toward the door, not sure how she would get out until his large hands grasped her waist and lifted her easily to the floor. 

Where to look... Certainly not at the prince—her master—although his presence was more than commanding. He stood almost seven feet tall with thick, corded muscles across his chest and arms. 

Moisture gathered between her legs. 

He looked more warrior than prince. No, he was all king. A warrior king. Earlier, she’d stared at him boldly. Now she kept her eyes lowered, trained at his bare feet. They were no different from hers, except larger and with the brown-purple skin tone of the Zandians. She glanced at her own toes. They were cleaner than they’d ever been before. Even her toenails had been buffed to a glossy shine. How long had she been out? 

The prince cupped her chin and lifted her face. His touch was gentler than she expected. She still couldn’t meet his gaze, choosing instead to stare at his thick neck and the part of his bare chest visible beneath his loose, finely woven white shirt. Her fingers itched to touch his skin, to find out if it was as smooth as it appeared. What a strange idea. She’d never thought about touching a male in her life. In fact, she’d avoided males as best she could. This one had her completely discombobulated. 

Was his chest hairless? Did he have hair anywhere other than his head? Zander, Daneth, and the guards she’d seen outside all wore their hair shorn close to their skulls. Perhaps their horns got too hot otherwise. 

When she’d first seen Daneth, she’d thought the horns ugly, but Zander’s suited him, somehow making him even more handsome. 

He leaned forward and opened his mouth. She tried to pull out of his grasp, but he held her fast, his gleaming teeth aimed straight for her cheek. For a moment, she thought he planned to bite her face, but his tongue flicked out, and he licked one of her tears. She caught his scent, a clean, masculine aroma with a slightly exotic spice. 

Her nipples tightened; her pussy pulsed. No—she definitely was not thinking about licking him back to see how he tasted.

Title: Human Surrender: Five Dark Alien Warrior Romance Novellas

Authors: Sue Lyndon, Alta Hensley, Renee Rose, Kallista Dane, Aubrey Cara

Genre: Erotic Sci-Fi Romance

Word Count: 175K

Links Amazon: http://myBook.to/humans 

Nook: http://goo.gl/hqJrM2 

iBooks: https://goo.gl/B8WSnH 

Kobo: https://goo.gl/T2goUx 

Smashwords: https://goo.gl/xO558X 

All Romance: https://goo.gl/kWDNW6 

Blushing: http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&p=3898&welcome=1

BUY NOW!

Read the first Chapters for FREE: http://humansurrender.gr8.com/

Blurb:

Fierce alien warriors don't ask.  They take, they claim, and they conquer - even when the object of their desires is a trembling human female.

Human Surrender contains five *all-new* dark sci-fi alien romance novellas, brought to you by USA Today and international bestselling authors of BDSM and spanking romance. 

Featured novellas:

Taking Their Human by Aubrey Cara

Pallid Slave by Alta Hensley

His Human Slave by Renee Rose

Their Captive Mate by Kallista Dane

Kenan’s Mate by Sue Lyndon

Publisher’s Note: The books included in this naughty collection are MF and MFM pairings. Though the stories are dark, all have happy endings. 

**Over 175,000 words of dark romance ~ complete stories with no cliffhangers**

Wicked Wednesday- VL Locey: Tape to Tape, Venom #3

Tape to Tape, Venom # 3
V.L. Locey
M/F Erotic Hockey Romance

Buy Links:
Amazon- http://tinyurl.com/zt8vncq 
Smashwords- https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/646762

Blurb:
Venom defensive coach Dot "The Shadow" West has made a nice life for herself. She's found a new position on an up-and-coming women's professional hockey team, her daughter is thriving, she gets along well with her fellow coaches and her players admire and respect her. She's proud to have accomplished so much by herself. Everything is running smoothly in her life with no help from anyone, thank you very much.

Sadly, there's one annoying glitch in Dot's new life, and it's in the form of good-looking Theo Grier, former Wildcat goalie and co-host of a controversial sports talk radio show based in Philadelphia, home of the Venom. When Dot loses her cool and calls in to spar with Theo on the air her structured and solitary existence takes a sudden unexpected turn. Before she can hip check the smug fool out of her life she somehow ends up working with him on a new talk radio sports program.

Can she defend her heart against the unwanted feelings Theo is stirring up? Or will she continue to guard herself, and her past decisions, against the offensive moves being made by the ex-goalie? The only man to ignite her passions - and ire - in years?



Excerpt:

"Security lets you down here?" I asked.
"I'm an old 'Cat. They love me down here," he informed me. I walked past him and began to pull on a mitten. "I thought maybe we could grab a cup of coffee and discuss the show next Monday." That made me pause for a scant moment but just for a moment. I kept walking and dressing. Theo caught up to me with ease. His legs were as long as a thoroughbred's. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, I heard you. I then chose to ignore you." I wrapped a red and black scarf around my neck, nodded at Eddie the security guard stationed by the staff/players entrance, and then stepped out into a freezing cold Philadelphia night.
"You plan on treating me this coldly forever?" Theo asked as I slid past him. If he thought holding the door open for me would chill me out, he was sorely mistaken.
"Probably," I said with my eyes locked on my blue Honda Pilot. "My grandmother always said that the best way to deal with a wart was to freeze it."
"Ouch," Theo chuckled while keeping up with my pace easily. Each breath out clouded in front of my face. "I hope I'm just a finger wart and not an anal wart."
"Oh, you're an anal wart. One of the biggest ones that I have ever had the misfortune to encounter," I parried as my Honda got closer and closer. Theo jumped ahead of me to bar my path. I gave him a lethal glare. He smiled and held out his hand. I eyed it warily as if it were an asp ready to strike.
"Coach West, I think we need to start over," Theo said as his hand hung in the cold air. I raised my eyes from his big hand to his face. Then I gave him a strong "Please spare me" look. The man didn't have the sense to stop trying to be sexy. A gust right off an iceberg howled around the Houseman, lifting Theo's white scarf high into the air behind him. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Coach West. I'm Theo Grier, ex-goalie and world's largest walking anal wart."
I snorted and glanced up at the LED parking lot light wobbling overhead.
"Could that have been a smile I saw on 'The Shadow's' face?" Theo asked. I rolled my eyes then shook my head.
"It was a tiny sneeze."
"Right, a sneeze," he said with just a hint of skepticism. "Maybe you should shake my hand so you can get out of this nasty cold weather. A hot cup of coffee at the Black Boar Bar & Grill might be just what you need to help thaw out, Coach West."
"For your information, Mr. Grier, I do not need to thaw out. I'm quite comfortable, toasty warm, hot even," I replied keeping my arms crossed over my chest.
"Yes, that you are," Theo said in a vibrating voice that had dropped just a smidgeon. There was something about his voice, the way he held himself, and that damned large hand of his still waiting for mine that made me feel a trifle too warm inside my coat.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Grier." I pushed around him.
"How about honesty then," he said and then planted his massive self in front of me once again.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," I sighed.
"When I see something I want, I go after it."
"And you want me?" I asked.
"Yeah, I want you to shake my hand and join me for coffee," he countered smoothly. I studied his face then with a huff extended my hand, all toasty warm in my mitten, to him. His fingers curled around mine, making my hand glow like a red coal in a fire pit. We shook slowly, one could have said sensuously, but handshakes with mittens blocking the skin-to-skin can't be sensual, can they?


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Author Links:
Website:  http://vlloceyauthor.com/ 
Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452 
Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey 
Pinterest- http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/ 
Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey 
My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/ 
tsú - https://www.tsu.co/vllocey


Gone Writing Publishing Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases
Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)
Twirly Girl (Book Two of the Venom Series)
Tape to Tape (Book Three of the Venom Series)

Coming Nov. 16…Roster Addition (a To Love a Wildcat hockey romance novella)

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3: He's a Lumberjack and He`s Undead
Love of the Hunter
Goaltender`s Penalty
All I Want for Christmas - A Toms & Tabbies Tale
Early to Rise - A Toms & Tabbies Tale
Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)
Night of the Jackal
An Erie Halloween
An Erie Operetta
Back to the Garden (Also part of the Mythologically Torqued Anthology)

Ellora`s Cave Backlist and Upcoming Releases
Bound, Boarded and Bagged
Two Man Advantage
Game Misconduct
Full Strength
Shutdown Pair

Independent Releases
Coming October 5, 2016…On Broadway (part of the Changing on the Fly M/M hockey romance charity novella)
Coming Dec. 20, 2016…Holly & Hockey Boots (a gay erotic holiday hockey romance)