Pre-order Alert! Educating His Bride by Cara Bristol @CaraBristol

Cara Bristol is one of favorite authors. Sitting down with one of her books is a real treat. ❤ I jumped at the chance to share with you her next release, Educating His Bride. It will be out on April 11th and you can pre-order it today. 😀

There’s a fabulous excerpt below. Enjoy!

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Educating His Bride by Cara Bristol

Genre: Historical spanking romance, historical romance

ISBN: 978-0-9961452-5-1

Buy links
Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

Barnes & Noble | All Romance

Educating His Bride Blurb:

From college coed to professor’s naughty bride…

It’s the 1950s. Never much interested in her studies, Margaret Atwater attends college hoping to graduate with an Mrs. degree instead of a bachelor’s. When she catches the eye of English Professor Henry Thurston, she’s thrilled to marry him, drop out of school, and begin a new life as a married woman and faculty wife. However, Henry is a kinky man who has much to teach his eager young bride—in, and out, of the bedroom. As Mrs. Henry Thurston, Margaret’s sexual education has just begun.

 

Excerpt

Newlywed Margaret brings her husband his lunch at his college office. But Henry expects more than lunch…

“What did you bring me for lunch?” He peered into the corridor and slammed the door.

“A meatloaf sandwich.”

He twisted the key in the lock and scooted around her to the window. “On white bread?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I like white bread. It’s so nice and fluffy. Almost like eating cotton candy.” He turned the wand and plunged the room into dusk. Enough light remained to see the sexual gleam in his eyes.

An answering heat pooled in her core. Yes, some things had changed since her last visit to this room. She might have gotten a C in his class, but she’d aced marital relations. He’d taught her much over the summer, lessons she’d embraced with alacrity.

Henry plopped into his chair and beckoned.

“What if somebody comes?”

“They won’t. It’s only the second week. Students don’t have reason to meet with me yet.” He chuckled. “They’re still searching for their classes.”

“I don’t know.” Did respectable married women do things like this?

He leaned back and spread his legs. His erection tented his trousers. “Do I need to come and get you, Mrs. Thurston?”

She loved being called that. Liquid lust pooled, but she played coy. “Maybe—”

Henry sprang up, dragged her to his desk, and upended her over his lap. The chair arms prevented him from pulling her completely atop his knees, but he was strong enough to hold her half on, half off. She braced her hands on the floor. Skirts flew over her head. A playful swat landed on her bottom.

Thwack. Thwack. “Henreee…” she giggled. “Ow!” she cried as he brought his hand down harder. There’d been many spankings over the summer. Only one had been for punishment after she’d gone shopping and had run late and hadn’t called. The rest had been sexy ones. There was something thrilling about her husband enforcing his will—and her surrendering to it.

“I wish you didn’t put on so many undergarments,” he groused as he spanked.

“I only wear the usual.” Panties, girdle, slip. Petticoats for poufiness, if the dress needed it.

“Maybe I’ll institute an underwear ban.”

“I couldn’t!”

“I mean around the house.”

That wasn’t as bad, but still. What if she had to answer the door? A respectable woman was always coiffed, starched, and properly clad. To not wear undergarments would be like not wearing…stockings!

“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” he said.

She hoped he thought about it a long time. He flipped her off his lap into a heap between his legs, undid his trousers, and freed his cock from his shorts. Precum pearled on the smooth head.

Her brown feathered tilt hat had slipped from her head to her ear, despite being anchored with a pin. Henry threaded his fingers through her pageboy. The man was heck on a hairdo. Perhaps she should get one of those short, shaggy cuts like Italian actress Gina Lollobrigida had.

He exerted pressure to bring her face closer to his cock. “I used to think about you doing this when you were my student,” he said. “Suck me, Meggie.”

 

Author bio

USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol has published more than twenty-five erotic romance titles, including contemporary and science fiction romance.  No matter what the subgenre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently lives in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling.

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Spotlight: Masquerade by Victoria Vale with Giveaway

 

Masquerade by Victoria Vale
Genre: Erotic, Historical Romance, Regency

Margaret Seymour is bored by the stifling constraints of society dictating her behavior as a debutante in search of a husband. Her prospects are promising by the standards of London society, yet, not one of them causes her heart to flutter, or her head to fill with scintillating, forbidden fantasies. Those feelings are reserved for Camden Rycroft, Duke of Avonleah—a man who isn’t even aware of her existence.

While attending a scandalous Vauxhall Gardens masquerade, Margaret finds herself in the duke’s arms. His promise of a night of pleasure is tempting, but is it worth it when Avonleah is a known rake notorious for his short attention span and avoidance of marriage?

Camden Rycroft is intrigued by the masked vixen he encounters in the Gardens. After one night with her leaves him hungry for more, his desire for her turns into a fiery obsession. Despite the scandal that could ensue from their affair, he finds himself unable to extract himself from a situation destined to end in pain. When faced with losing Margaret to a potential husband, will he rise to the occasion, or risk living without her?

 

 

 

 

Excerpt:

“You must know how many hearts you’ve stolen just by walking into a room. Many a night, I have watched you take a lady into your arms to waltz with her and wished I could be her. To be so close to you, moving together … to know your scent and your touch …” She paused, realizing she’d said far too much.

Camden circled behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders. His lips brushed the back of her neck and she shivered.

“I cannot deny knowing you have watched me from afar all this time does not bring me pleasure, Maggie,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path toward her ear. “When you watched me with those women, did you wonder if there was more to our association than a simple waltz would suggest?”

She nodded in response, unable to speak when he nibbled on her neck, teasing the most deliciously sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“You wondered if any of them would accompany me home, didn’t you? You thought about what I did to them.”

She groaned as he took the shell of her ear between his teeth.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I did.”

“How did you feel when you thought about it—when you imagined all the wicked things I did to those other ladies?”

His hands worked at the buttons running down her back, sliding them loose one by one, opening her gown.

“Jealous,” she admitted.

He gripped the sleeves of her gown and pulled, lowering it to the floor to pool around her feet. His hands took her waist and he pulled her against him, his lips trailing along her shoulder.

“Did you fantasize about me, Maggie? Did you wonder what it would be like to be one of them?”

“I did,” she said, her voice low and husky. “At night, alone in my bed, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it was like to be with you.”

“Oh, Maggie,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement and mock horror. “Never say you were ever so naughty.”

She giggled, bit her lower lip, and leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. “I was.”

“You touched yourself when you thought about me, didn’t you?” One of his hands slid across her stomach, lowering slowly toward the apex of her thighs. “Did you pleasure yourself to fantasies of me?”

He cupped her mons, his fingers massaging gently and drawing moisture from her core.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice strained as he continued to tease her. “Yes, I did.”

“Show me,” he whispered, removing his hand.

She groaned in agitation, wishing for his touch again. Yet, he seemed to be waiting for her to fulfill his command.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself, Maggie,” he said, his voice a bit rougher this time—a demand she dared not refuse. Not if she wished for more of the pleasure he could give her.

 

Victoria Vale has written over two dozens Romance and Young Adult novels under various pseudonyms. As a lover of erotic romance, she enjoys nothing more than a sexy hero paired with a sassy heroine, flavored with a dash of spice and lots of heat. A wife and mother of three, she enjoys reading (of course), cooking, sewing … and other activities that aren’t appropriate for inclusion in a biography.

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Inside Look with Lynn Rae and Peri Elizabeth Scott authors of Prohibited

Inside Look logo by SJ

Special treat day here in the Maylee ehouse. Lynn Rae and Peri Elizabeth Scott are both here and they’re talking about their first collaboration. I think you’ll enjoy this conversation as much as I did. They’ve also brought all the details for their new release, Prohibited. Take it away ladies. 🙂

What inspired us to write Prohibited?

Lynn Rae: For me, it was an opportunity to do a lot of things I’d never tried before; write a book with a co-author, write a historical, and write without an outline or plan. It took me completely out of my comfort zone and I think that’s important for creative people to do.

Peri Elizabeth Scott: I met Lynn online and then at a conference that same year. We got along really well and when one of us suggested writing a book together, it seemed a wonderful idea!

Lynn Rae: I don’t remember who suggested it either. I know we both came up with the historical genre mutually since it was new for both of us.

What was the most fun about working on a Roaring Twenties book?

Peri Elizabeth Scott: Learning accurate facts about that era. I knew about speakeasies and flappers and the like, but much of this was superficial. I like to learn and there were so many interesting facts that surfaced. Not to mention the amazing clothing and the gracious old homes.

Lynn Rae: Research! It’s what I used to do in my former career and I loved getting my hands on a microfilm reader again. There’s nothing more fun than sinking into 1923 editions of the Lima News, at least for a history geek like me. I’ve always been attracted to the post WWI era because it was a time of such radical change in America. Everything from social mores, clothing, entertainment, transportation, housekeeping, and the ways people made their livings underwent amazing transformations. The Twenties saw U.S. women voting for the first time, home refrigeration, the growth of the automobile as a necessity of life, so many things we take for granted started in that decade.

How was it working with a co-author?

Lynn Rae: It was so much more exciting than I’d anticipated. I loved getting her next scene in my inbox and would drop whatever I was doing because I couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. Peri is a great writer and friend, so we never had any major differences of opinion while writing or editing. I’m sure our next collaboration is going to be equally exciting.

Peri Elizabeth Scott: Our styles are very different and yet we worked so well together and melded our scenes. I’m a total pantser and dragged Lynn right along with me until she showed the voice of reason because of her amazing research. I watched my in box like a hawk for the next installment. (I’ll confess it initially felt a little weird to make love to her character!)

Lyn Rae: It was weird making love to her character at first, but Mac is so sexy, it wasn’t hardship!

Prohibited blurb:

prohibited1m 43KBIn the early 1920’s in Lima, Ohio, John MacDonald Adair hides his speakeasy from the law, and his mixed heritage from the KKK, mingling with the rich, piling up the cash and taking his pleasure within the ranks of the flappers who patronize his speak.

Lilly Townsend is a serious, modern woman, a suffragette and temperance advocate with nothing to hide and no patience for the frivolity of the times. And she doesn’t break the rules—yet.

Such disparate souls should never meet, but Fate conspires otherwise. Powerless against overwhelming chemistry, and something far deeper, Mac and Lilly must make some difficult choices and face down societal mores—together—to attain their happily ever after.

Prohibited excerpt:

Making her way up the wide stone steps to the porch, Lilly shifted the pie to one hand and pressed the doorbell with the other. There was a barely discernible chime through the leaded glass and walnut door but no other sound. She waited and pressed the button again. The door opened with a rattle and creak.

When she recognized the person glaring at her, all the breath left her body in a gasp. It was Mac Adair. Of course. Of all the people in Lima who could have purchased this house next to hers, it would have to be that man.

He narrowed his eyes at her and propped his arm across the door opening as if to deny her entrance. He was wearing a soft-looking red shirt with far too many buttons unfastened, and sturdy black trousers. When she realized he wasn’t wearing an undershirt and she could see the tanned muscles of his chest, her arms weakened and the pie wobbled and dropped from her useless hands.

Stifling a shriek, Lilly flailed for the pan but it was too late to catch it. Spraying its contents, the pie landed on the porch with a sickening squash and the entire pastry top cracked apart as reddish goo welled up like heart’s blood. Scarlet gobbets clung to her forearms and the front of her embroidered linen dress.

Horrified, she looked up to find Mac Adair still staring at her, although his features had smoothed away from the frown he’d worn earlier. The corners of his mouth twitched with disgust or amusement at her predicament. Lilly knew her own mouth was gaping open but she was frozen with embarrassment and powerless to close it.

****

Stricken might be too strong a word for Mac to apply in this circumstance, but it came damn close. Perhaps another might find humor in this beauty brought to her knees by some version of slapstick, but he was mortified for her.

It wasn’t lost on him, this neighborly gesture of welcome, although no doubt she’d have painted a black daub on his door to warn others had she known he lived here after the way he’d treated her in his speakeasy. Mac fumbled for his handkerchief.

“Here, let me…” He squatted to reach out and pat the worst of the spill from her wrist then thought better of it and offered the cloth to her to apply instead.

Trembling fingers snatched it from his grasp, the slight contact sparking a frission of static up his forearm. Lil patted at the sticky fruit and flakes of pastry, lips set in a thin line as she visibly regained her composure. Not that her full, bee-stung mouth could compress into a truly regimented grimace.

“Thank you.” A quiet, dignified murmur at last. She raised her coffee brown eyes to his again, the long lashes sweeping up to unveil returning self possession. His heart pounded harder, and another part of his anatomy responded as well, refusing to listen to his brain scold.

As awkward as a boy in the company of his first crush, Mac struggled to his feet, offering her the hand not occupied with the detritus of the pie as he did so. Lil reached out to take it, and their fingers met amidst the gooey residue as he helped her up. He felt his lips twitching and registered a similar movement of Lil’s. Laughter bubbled over, a welcome warmth that enveloped his senses, and he guffawed in response.

“Mac Adair.”

“Lilly Townsend.”

“My pleasure to meet you, Miss Townsend. Please come in and you can freshen up.”

“I think it will take more than a mere freshen up. And it’s Mrs. Townsend, but please call me Lilly. After our two, um, disparate meetings…”

She was married? How had he missed that fine gold band? Married to that sap.

“Ah—” What in hell was that man’s name she was with last night? “So, Walter is your husband.”

“Walter? Heavens, no! My husband passed four years ago.”

The rush of relief at the news made his knees weak—he was a total bastard for welcoming such news. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lilly.”

“Thank you.” She stared at him expectantly and he shuffled backwards into the foyer. Lilly gracefully followed, only to come up short.

“Do you have a powder room on the main floor?”

“There’s a newly constructed bath just off the foyer.”

Carefully disposing of the ruined pie in his sterile kitchen, he hustled back to the porch with a rag and a small basin of water. He hadn’t cleaned a floor on his knees in, well, ever, but the flies were gathering.

When Lilly emerged, the stuff of her dress sported large, spreading damp spots tinged with an unfortunate hue of pink, the same hint of blush remained on her cheeks.

“I had no idea you were my aunt and uncle’s new neighbor.” The frost was back in her tone.

“Or you wouldn’t have deigned to make me a welcome to the neighborhood pie. Let alone cross the threshold.” Damn it, he was biting back as a dog snaps at flies.

She flinched at his comment and held her head even higher. “I definitely wouldn’t have. You own a speakeasy! Your reputation—”

My reputation? I’m a businessman, Mrs. Townsend. I serve the public, at least those who seek my services. And if memory serves, you were in my speak just last night. How might that have impugned your reputation, I wonder? Or perhaps it reflected who you are beneath the trappings.”

If he could have ripped out his tongue by its very roots he would have done. Lilly’s breasts lifted and fell rapidly in response to his set down and he tore his eyes away from that bewitching sight to meet her very hurt gaze, swiftly being hidden by outrage and disdain.

I know who I am beneath my trappings. Mr. Adair. Who or what do you hide behind yours? My slight lapse in judgment last evening, correction, serious lapse in judgment won’t be repeated. Of that I can assure you!”

Hell’s teeth, she was lovely! All flashing eyes and high color. He couldn’t resist pushing her harder.

“I knew my first impression of you was correct.”

She sputtered. It was fascinating to observe, those succulent lips parting with fury.

“If you consider calling me priggish and straight-laced an insult, sir, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m simply fine with your assessment. At least I’m contributing to the moral compass of this world, unlike some people who undermine the very fabric of—oomph.”

It was just too much. Too much of everything. She had slipped a verbal dagger between his ribs and pierced his conscience. Coupled with her intense appeal, he felt pushed over the brink and reacted to both quiet her and soothe his abraded soul.

Her wealth of hair spilled from its gathered twist on the back of her head as he pulled her roughly into his arms, soft curves imprinting against his chest. He caught a glimpse of her wide, startled eyes before taking her mouth with his own in fierce possession, plundering the seam of her lips. Groaning with the effort of suppressing his lust—he longed to sweep her up and carry her into the parlor where a fainting couch reposed—Mac contented himself with kissing them both senseless.

Prohibited Buy Links:

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/prohibited-by-lynn-rae-and-peri-elizabeth-scott/

http://www.amazon.com/Prohibited-Forbidden-Series-Lynn-Rae-ebook/dp/B00JDVHTBU/

Author links:

http://www.perielizabethscott.com/index.html

http://www.lynnraewrites.com/

Author Bios:

Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She and her husband have a wonderful son, and a house full of animals. She recently closed her part time private practice as a social worker and child play therapist to spend more time with her husband. Peribeth has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, and reads everything she can lay her hands on. She has just begun to pen contemporary romance, although has published dark erotica under another pen name.

Lynn Rae makes her home in land-locked central Ohio after time spent in the former Great Black Swamp, beside the Ohio River, and along the Miami and Erie Canal.  With professional experience in fields ranging from contract archaeology to librarianship along with making donuts and teaching museum studies, Lynn enjoys incorporating her quirky sense of humor and real-life adventures into her writing (except the naughty bits).  She writes sci-fi, contemporary, and historical romances.

 

Spotlight: Taming a Gentleman Spy by Maggi Andersen

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Taming a Gentleman Spy

(The Spies of Mayfair)

By Maggi Andersen

Length: 280 pages

Blurb:

John Haldane, Earl of Strathairn, is on an urgent mission to find the killer of his fellow spy. After visiting the young widow of one of his agents, Strathairn strengthens his resolve. A spy should never marry, and most certainly not to Lady Sibella Winborne, with her romantic ideas of love and marriage. Unable to give Sibella up entirely, he has kept her close as a friend. Then, weak fool that he is, he kissed her. Lady Sibella Winborne has refused several offers of marriage since she first set eyes on the handsome Earl of Strathairn. Sibella’s many siblings always rush to her aid to discourage an ardent suitor, but not this time. Her elder brother, Chaloner, Marquess of Brandreth, has approved Lord Coombe’s suit.  Sibella yearns to set up her own household. She is known to be the sensible member of the family, but she doesn’t feel at all sensible about Lord Strathairn. If only she could forget that kiss.

Buy Links: 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Taming-Gentleman-Spy-Spies-Mayfair-ebook/dp/B00FG9MTGI”>http://www.amazon.com/Taming-Gentleman-Spy-Spies-Mayfair-ebook/dp/B00FG9MTGI

Publisher: Knox Robinson Publishing Ltd. http://www.knoxrobinsonpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=190?osCsid=7ca7b93ba2d4d9c4a32d9ec07cf6f205

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/taming-a-gentleman-spy-maggi-andersen/1116300615

Author Bio:
Maggi Andersen fell in love with the Georgian and Regency worlds after reading the books of Georgette Heyer. Victoria Holt’s Gothic Victorian novels were also great favorites. 

She has raised three children and gained a BA and an MA in Creative Writing. After husband David retired from the law, they moved to the beautiful Southern Highlands of Australia.

Maggi’s free time is spent enjoying her garden and the local wildlife, reading, movies and the theatre. She keeps fit swimming and visiting the gym. 

Maggi is a multi-published author, and writes mysteries and young adult novels as well as her Georgian, Regency and Victorian romances.

Author Website: http://www.maggiandersenauthor.com

Author Blog: http://www.maggiandersen.blogspot.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/maggiandersen

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Maggi-Andersen-Author/372854959805

Excerpt: 
         Beneath glistening chandeliers, the dancers spun to the strains of a Handel waltz. Strathairn smiled down at his partner, her slim waist beneath his hand as they danced. Lady Sibella Winborne looked like a delicate flower in a gauzy pale gown covered in amber blossom. White ostrich feather plumes adorned her luxuriant dark locks. He enjoyed looking at her. Her serene oval face lifted and she smiled at him, her mouth wide and full. Too wide for beauty some might say, but made for kissing. She had inherited her mother’s famous eyes, a delectable mix of blue and green, but her nature was quieter, lacking the vivacity of her mother in her youth, who was said to have had men falling at her feet. He admired Sibella’s calm beauty, but she was oh, so much more: practical, poised and intelligent. Yet still unmarried, which surprised him.
          “You arrived late tonight. I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said.
          “I was tied up with business.”
          “Not parliament?”
          “No.”
          She tilted her head. “Your horses, then?”
          He grinned at her blatant curiosity. “No.”
          “You won’t tell me.”
          “No.”
          Sibella laughed with good humor. “Very well. Might I find you riding in Hyde Park tomorrow?”
          “I hope to.”
          Her delicate brows rose. “If business doesn’t keep you.”
          He laughed. “Precisely.”
          The music faded away. Strathairn escorted her back to her chair where her mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Brandreth, sat fanning herself among the other dowagers. He bowed, planning to slip into the rooms set aside for gambling. As much as he might wish to dance with Sibella again, it would place them under scrutiny, and faro was an effective release from the tension he always carried with him.
          “Don’t rush off, Strathairn,” her sharp-eyed mother said. “We have seen little of you of late. You rarely frequent these affairs.” She waved her fan in an arc to encompass the ballroom. “Where have you been hiding?”
          “Not hiding, my lady, merely visiting my estates.”
Lady Brandreth adjusted the silk shawl over her shoulders. “Did you include that pile of yours in Yorkshire? I enjoyed the hunt ball, but it’s cold as charity in winter up in those parts.”
          “Not this time, but I miss it. There’s a wild beauty to the dales in winter, quite unlike southern England.”
          “I daresay.” Her purple turban wobbled as she nodded. “You are a fine figure of a man, Strathairn. What are you now? Six and thirty? You should marry. You should be setting up your nursery.” She gestured toward her daughter sitting beside her. “Sibella will bear you healthy children. The Brandreths come of good stock, and the Wederells even better.”
          “Mama, please!” He caught Sibella’s apologetic gaze and suppressed a wry smile. Her plea would have little effect; the marchioness was known to be one of the most colorful and outspoken members of the ton.
          The dowager batted her daughter’s protest away with her fan. “I am merely speaking the truth, Sibella.”
          “Your daughter is a credit to you, my lady,” he said with a smile. “She has inherited both your beauty and intelligence.”
          “Now you are toad eating.” A roguish smile lit Lady Brandreth’s face. “You always were a charmer. Sibella is intelligent. Walk with her on the terrace to discover it for yourself.”
          “I should be delighted.”
          

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A Look Inside Raven McAllan and Nash’s Niche

I have a treat for you today. I have the charming Raven McAllan and she’s going to give us a look inside why she’s writing Regency and her latest release in the Behind Closed Doors series, Nash’s Niche. Enjoy! 🙂

If you told me two years ago I’d be writing Regency stories, and loving it I may well have scratched my head. Oh I enjoyed reading them, but write them? Mind you I guess I’d’ve said that about writing anything. I was so not sure. It’s one thing ‘writing’ in your mind, another actually typing those words out. Like lots of things, it was a ‘one day’ scenario.

Then one day I knuckled down, got researching, got hooked, and got writing!

I love the depth of mystery in that period. It might look regimented and staid, but like most things, there are hidden depths, and oh my are those depths murky in places.

This book Nash’s Niche is book four in the Behind Closed Doors series, about the Brigstock family. A most unusual family, with more murky depths than most. Convention hardly touches them, and when it does it ends up unconventional.

Nash is the third son, and one who family decree and history said should became a cleric. As Nash himself says, he couldn’t think of anyone less suited to go into the Church. Instead he runs a hunt in Rutland, and tries to keep out of mischief’s way. He doesn’t succeed.

Felicity is on the run from what’s expected of her. As ever in Regency times, no one listens to what a young lady wants. But she’s going to fight for it. I really understood how difficult it must be for her, and oh boy did I want her to be happy. Is she? You’ll have to read the book to find out 🙂

Nash coverNash’s Niche

Behind Closed Doors, 4

by Raven Mcallen

Blurb

A chance meeting at a masked ball leads to explosive and unforgettable sex for both Nash and Felicity.

Reunited under dangerous circumstances, they realize they may have to fight for their love, especially when Felicity is promised to Nash’s brother.

With the future of the country at stake and unsure who to trust, can there be a future for the star stuck lovers?

And a wee tease…

Felice—he thought of her by that name—let herself be ushered toward the house. Once inside Nash turned toward the hallway, where a lamp burned low, awaiting his return.

“Would you like to leave your cloak?” She shook her head.

“Your mask? Your dress?”

She laughed. “No, no and no, not here.”

He slung his cloak over a chair. “Then after you, it’s to the right at the top of the stairs.” He lifted the lamp to show them the way.

Madame Felice nodded and gathered the hem of her cloak and dress up, which gave him a perfect view of pair of trim and shapely ankles.

“If you raise your skirts further, perhaps I could see your arse as well as your feet?” he said in a deep voice. “It would appeal to my baser instincts.”

She took the first three steps and turned to look over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have though you were so jaded as to need titillating, My Lord.”

“Minx.” He couldn’t help but admire her retort. “I don’t need stimulating, but your arse does need tanning. I will take great pleasure in watching it turn the color of your lips.”

Her lips parted and a soft sigh escaped. Her face suffused with color. “What?” She turned away and continued up the staircase. Nash noticed a little more of her legs were now visible, and then a quick flash of a garter. His lady was teasing. They would see just who teased whom before long. He took the stairs two at a time to catch her up, and then opened the bedroom door, to usher Madame Felice inside.

“We won’t be disturbed until I ring,” he said as he put the lamp down and lit another one. He wanted to see his lady in all her nakedness. “Now strip.”

Would his crude and blunt demand appeal or repulse her?

She smiled and undid her cloak. “You will need to play ladies maid, my lord. I didn’t expect to undress without one.”

That was something Nash could do. His cock protested that it was ignored and hardened to such a degree that he wanted to take it to hand and give himself some relief there. Instead, Nash stroked his lady’s neck and rejoiced in her tiny erotic quiver as he began to undo a row of diminutive buttons, which stretched from the nape of her neck to the enticing cleft in her arse. The dress undone and in a swirl of silk at her feet, Nash began on the ties of her petticoat, pleased her body was such that she didn’t need a corset. When he reached her chemise, Madame Felice shivered.

“I can finish. I feel distinctly underdressed here.”

“The mask,” he reminded her.

Her hand went to her face. “The mask stays,” she said firmly. Nash decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. He’d undo it later. Once she was in the throes of passion, she wouldn’t realize what he was doing.

He bowed, and pressed a series of nipping kisses to the nape of her neck. She shuddered and moaned.

“My Lord … ah … that sends such feelings through me.”

“Good. Take off your chemise and get into bed whilst I disrobe. Then I’ll show you what other feelings I can give you.” He’d never shrugged out of evening wear so fast, and even used a jack for his boots. By the time Felice had slipped her chemise off, and he’d had a brief glimpse of rounded thighs and a perfect globe of her arse, he was naked alongside her. “Wait,” he said hoarsely. “I need to taste.” Before she had a chance to ask what he meant, Nash held both her hands in one of his, bent his head and suckled each nipple in turn. Her keening cry was enough to make his juices gather at the tip of his engorged cock.

He lifted his head with reluctance. “On the bed, lie on your back and spread your legs for me. If you don’t want this, now is the time to say so.” He waited, his body tight with anxiety less she did say ‘no more’. She didn’t.

Nash’s Niche is available from www.evernighpublishing.com

Evernight, Amazon, All Romance EBooks, and Bookstrand

If you want to know more about Raven, here’s her nosy links,

Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the Raven's Avatarsettings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.

A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.

Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

You can find out more about Raven here…

http://www.ravenmcallan.com

http:/ /www.ravenmcallan.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan        (my page)

https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan            (author page)

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