Thanks so much for having me here today. 🙂

I once read that you need to hook the reader within the first page, if not the first sentence. Clearly, this has stuck with me, because a lot of the times I have nothing but that first sentence in my head niggling away at me until I sit down and write the story.

In this case I’ve had that first sentence for ages…

“If he keeps you waiting, he’s not worth waiting for, sugar.”

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Now, who do you picture saying that, as he bends down to whisper it into your ear? In my mind’s eye, I knew he was some sort of bad boy, with a deep south American accent, which meant my heroine had to be on holiday, because I always place my stories in the UK.

Ohh, a holiday fling?  No, a one night stand with a shifter, because I knew that’s who he was immediately. He was too intense to be anyone else, too intent on claiming her, and then there was that element of immediate danger…

****

“That’s really none of your business, now, is it?”

Emmi held her ground, and inwardly cursed at the heat climbing into her cheeks under his silent scrutiny. Microbes under the microscope were surely studied with less intensity than this sexy stranger was showing her. It was unnerving and far too arousing. Emmi crossed her arms over her chest to hide her nipples’ embarrassingly obvious reaction to his close proximity. However, there was nothing she could do about her knickers’ increasing dampness. She never reacted like this to any man, dammit. What did they put into the drinks around here? And more importantly what was she going to do, stuck in this bar, in the middle of nowhere?

“You’re wrong, you know.” He smiled, and Emmi’s pussy practically did the samba in response to that almost growl.

He dipped his head lower, until he was so close that their breaths mingled, and it took all of Emmi’s will power to not just close that distance and press her mouth to his firm lips.

“I am?”

Cole smiled in answer and ran just one finger along her jaw-line. The calloused pad left a trail of heated need in its wake, and Emmi found it difficult to breathe. The crowded bar faded into the background, until she was only aware of Cole.

“Yes, you are.”

“Why?” she asked on a shuddery exhale, and he tapped her nose with a sinful smirk, that had her insides tightening in need until she wanted to jump his bones. His delicious scent intensified. It called to her in an indefinable manner. It should be illegal for any man to smell so good.

“Because you’re mine.”

****

She is, you know—his that is. Emmi is Cole’s mate and this bear shifter will move heaven and earth to claim her. Nothing and no one will stand in his way, not the council, not his position, certainly not any rules or the threat to the bloodlines.

Nothing, but one small human called Emmi, that is.

Giving in to this insane attraction is all well and good, but that’s all it was. A moment of temporary insanity.

Back in the UK, she has a life to lead, her career. She is not going to throw all that away for a drifter, some dangerous rogue, who she has nothing in common with.

Well… you know that old saying. Never judge a book by its cover…

Cole Jackson is as far removed from her first impression as can be. Oh, he’s sex-on-legs gorgeous, dominant, and decidedly foul mouthed in the bedroom, but he’s also loyal, and protective and you really don’t want to cross him.

Far from the drifter he appears to be, he’s a man of wealth and position, and he’s here to stay, for however long it takes to convince Emmi that she’s his—come what may…

Blurb:

When Animal conservationist Emmi Layne meets bad boy Cole Jackson there is no denying the instant lust between them. She has a thing for bears, after all.  However, you cannot build a relationship on awesome sex alone, especially when you live on different continents, and have nothing in common.

Everything changes, when Emmi discovers that their night of passion has left her with more than erotic memories. She has no means of contacting him, even if she wanted to, but she hasn’t counted on this bear shifter’s determination.

Cole is not what he seems, and he will stop at nothing to claim what’s his—even if that means breaking all the rules.

Can he trust the mating bond to deliver, or will it spell the end of an ancient blood line?

With the odds stacked against them, can this unlikely duo find happiness together?

Excerpt:

A moan slipped out from Emmi, and his balls drew tight in anticipation, as she, too, lost what cover his old shirt afforded her.  She licked her lips, her gaze riveted on his erection, and he grinned. A primitive sense of ownership grabbed him, and he bent down, and grabbing her ankles, pulled her down the bed until her ass was half hanging off it and he could step right between her legs.

This position opened her cunt for his inspection, and her scent grew in potency as her juices coated her pussy lips. Cole stroked himself harder in response to that sight, and she whimpered. That tiny sound pitched his need to claim her to new heights, but he wanted her begging for his cock and so wet and ready that she couldn’t stand it anymore.

A vision of keeping her like this, naked and at his mercy, filled his vision. Her curves would look so beautiful bound by Shibari rope, as she begged him for her orgasm.

His dick jumped at the thought, and he used the natural lubrication of his pre-cum to aid the ever faster up and downward glide of his hand.

“Cole, let me…”

Emmi looked up at him, her eyes so dark with her own need it took his breath away.

“No, I want to watch you come for me.” A fierce blush spread all over her skin at his husky words, and she bit her lips hard enough to draw blood. The metallic smell filled his nostrils, and his bear roared. “Use your fingers to spread yourself wider, so that I can see what you’re doing. Tell me what it feels like, and how much you want my cock, sugar.”

Emmi shivered and closed her eyes, but her hands did slowly slide down to the apex of her thighs.

“Use your words, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Oh God.” Her groan matched his when she spread her labia wide and circled her clit with one finger. The little nubbin swelled under her ministrations as all the blood rushed to the surface.

“That’s my girl. Fill your hole with your fingers, and imagine it’s my cock, sugar.”

Emmi complied, and the little needy sounds she made at the back of her throat were pure music to his ears.

“Words, Emmi, use them.”

“I … I can’t. I just … I want to come so badly. My fingers are not enough. I’m gripping them imagining they’re your cock filling me, thrusting in. I want you so badly.”

He growled, and she pumped her fingers faster until the wet sounds of her greedy pussy filled the room. The trembles started as her orgasm took hold, and Cole grabbed her thighs and took over.

Emmi screamed when his tongue replaced her fingers, and her essence flowed freely into his waiting mouth. His bear grunted his approval, and Cole blew against her slit and then bit down on her clit. The action sent Emmi over the edge, and he pushed two of his fingers into her clenching pussy hole. She rode those fingers as her whole body bowed off the bed and tightened before she slumped back down, moaning and writhing under his fingers and tongue.

Cole kept up his assault until the last tremors stopped and then crawled up her limp and sweat slicked body to kiss her.

“You’re not playing fair.” She mumbled the words and ran her hands over his chest, up to his shoulders and then down his back until she could reach his ass. With his body cocooned between her thighs, his cock slid up and down her wet slit and he indulged himself by thrusting into her just once.

Her cunt closed around him like a velvet fist, and Emmi pushed her feet into his calves and lifted up to meet his thrust. Their gazes locked when he pulled out and then pushed into her wet heat again.

“Oh, God, Cole, you’re driving me insane.”

His little human bucked against him, and her vaginal muscles clenched and released around his dick in an effort to hurry him along. It took all of Cole’s willpower and self-control to not simply give her what she wanted, but he withdrew again until just the tip of his dick remained inside her entrance.

Emmi shook and groaned and pleaded, and he ground his teeth to stop himself form coming.

“No, we’ll do this my way. Stop trying to hurry me, sugar, or I’ll tie you to this bed and leave you hanging.”

Her sharp intake of breath made him smile, and he paused half in half out of her sweet cunt, until he could nudge her sweet spot with short, shallow thrusts that had her luscious body climbing again. He could see it in the way her eyes clouded over, and her breathing quickened. Her fingernails scored his skin hard enough to draw blood, and Cole welcomed the slight pain, as he pushed her over that edge again.

“That’s my girl. Come for me again. Beautiful.”

He withdrew and flipped her over, so that she was bent over the side off the bed. With her knees on the floor, and her legs spread wide, her ass was there for him to play with, and Cole smacked one cheek and then pushed his fingers back into her vagina.

A rush of air escaped Emmi’s lungs, and she groaned into the bed covers and lifted her ass up to give him better access.

Cole rubbed his stubble along her shoulder blades and kissed her spine. A shudder went through her body, and she sighed his name when he withdrew.

“What, baby? Do you want me to spank you again?”

He delivered another open handed swat to her other cheek with enough force to leave a bright mark on her pale flesh as the blood rushed to the surface. His possessive bear urged him to do it again, to mark her body with his hands and claws and teeth, but the man needed to be sure she was on board with this.

“Yes, God, yes, please, Cole, anything. That feels so fucking good.”

For all buy links check out this link: http://www.dorisoconnor.com/the-bear-project.html

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Author Bio:

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

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