What happens when the sacrifice you make for another turns into a life you can’t abandon? Gwendolyn didn’t plan to become a whore. She didn’t expect to fall in love with another woman. She certainly wouldn’t guess that woman was a vampire. By the time she learns, it is too late, her heart belongs to Sophia and she will do anything to stay with the woman, the vampire, she loves.
Enjoy this steamy excerpt from Harlot:
As soon as the door closed behind him, James grabbed her by the arms, spun her around and slammed her back into the door.
“I don’t like being told what to do.” His voice was gravelly and low, menacing.
She swallowed and tried to calm herself. She was barely successful.
“On the bed, and remove that foolish shift.”
Gwendolyn obeyed silently, instinctively. The authority in his voice was unmistakable and unavoidable. She sat atop the bed, naked, watching him as he gathered a soft, silk rope that was coiled on a chest of drawers.
He rolled her onto her stomach, pulling her arms behind her. She had barely registered that her elbows were lashed together before he was flipping her again and tying her ankles to a thick staff, notched on either end to hold the rope and keep it from sliding along the shaft. Her legs weren’t spread uncomfortably, but it was pinching her tied arms, which pressed into the bed. That eased when he picked her up and set her on her feet.
Gwendolyn worried she would topple over, but the staff tucked into the hollow of her ankles and didn’t affect her ability to stand at all. She was overcome with a feeling of helplessness, though. She had feigned that with David, but this was real and it made her weep.
Her tears only fuelled James’ fire and he braced his hands on the wall behind her, one over each ear. He licked up her cheeks, tasting the tears.
“Are you afraid of me, girl?”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out. His mouth covered hers, and she couldn’t answer if she’d been able. His tongue savagely roamed her mouth and she gasped for air when he broke the kiss.
“Now, let’s see what you can handle.”
Find out how each of the characters in the original novella, “Blue Moon House,” became a member. Read the trials and tribulations they had to endure, the kinky sexual acts, and wickedly wonderful ways required for entry. Discover what the big secret is all about.
Don’t miss each new book by Angelica Dawson as she takes you back to where it all began…
A vampire on the run, Nicholas has the opportunity to make a home at Blue Moon House if he is able to curb his killing tendency and learn a new way of living.
Is there anything he won’t do to stay? What will he do when he inevitably fails?
Angelica Dawson, bestselling author of the Blue Moon House series, has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards — mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires. She is active on Twitter (@angelicadawson) and Facebook (facebook.com/authorangelicadawson)
Nick shrugged off his coat and worked open the buttons on Luke’s waistcoat. Neither man gentle, or patient with the other. Luke tore open his coat, the last button flying off.
Nicholas attempted to save his clothes from the same fate by falling to his knees. He freed Luke, stroking him while licking his own lips.
“Do you suck like a girl?” Luke asked, his fingers curling in Nicholas’ blond hair to hold his head steady. Luke rocked his hips, thrusting into Nick’s mouth.
Nick sighed at that first taste; male musk, and something else—something distinctly Luke flooded his taste buds. Tonight, he took his time, sharing the pleasure. It reached a deep, haunting ache inside him. He rolled his tongue over Luke and opened his throat to the other man’s thrusts.
Luke pulled out quickly, stopping his climax. “I want more,” he declared, pulling Nick to his feet. Luke’s fingers fumbled with the remaining buttons of Nick’s fly.
The door opened and both men turned to find the lady of the house, and her maid, standing in the doorway. The lady’s eyes brightened. “Well, it seems we’ve arrived just in time. Undress me, Lilian.” The maid set to work unpinning the woman’s curls and removing her dress.
“Don’t mind Beatrice,” Luke said, releasing Nick’s pants. “She likes to watch.”
I have not one but two authors for you today and they’re here talking about the music that inspired them to write Claimed By Dragons. As always, you can click on the pretty cover to see the book, Claimed By Dragons, on Goodreads. Don’t miss the Book Trailer and Excerpt below and at the very bottom you’ll find a bunch of buy links. Enjoy!
In an odd Wiccan shop in Salem, Jael pulls an unusual stone from a witch’s wish bag. Little does she know her wildest dreams of adventure and a torrid affair with two gorgeous co-workers are about to come true—in spades.
Jael’s dreamy boss, Roarke offers her the assignment of a lifetime: a photo safari to Mount Kilimanjaro. The African scenery is stunning but the unexpected arrival of her two office crushes, Roarke and Kypton ignites her passion. Just as the trio is getting steamy at a beautiful waterfall, danger intervenes forcing the men to reveal their secret. They’re dragons. And now, to save her life, they have no choice but to abduct a startled Jael to their mountain lair on Kilimanjaro.
In the dragons’ love nest, Jael learns the truth about their origins and explores all the erotic possibilities two eager lovers can offer. Love awakens, but the guys are being stalked by a covert group of dragon hunters and withholding a life or death secret that will push Jael’s courageous heart and commitment to the limits.
Note:This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices, menage (m/m/f).
When we were writing Claimed By Dragons music played a big part and we want to share a few of favorites with you today.
Amber Skyze: Music and Writing Are One Since a child I’ve connected to music on many different levels. I love all different types, but lean more towards Rock/Heavy Metal. I listen to music more than I watch television. My CD collection is large and my iPod diverse.
Music plays a huge part in my writing too. I hear a song and picture a story. Not the full story, but a general theme. Sometimes it’s only the title that strikes an idea for a story, but normally it’s the lyrics.
Take for instance Dante’s Desire, published with Ellora’s Cave. I wrote this story after hearing the song I Get Off, by Halestorm. It’s about someone getting off watching another get off. I knew I had to write Dante’s Desire. The book starts with Addison, the heroine, performing sexual acts in her window for her sexy neighbor across the street.
Another Ellora’s Cave book – Spend The Night With Me, is loosely attached to a song. The song Need You Now, by Lady Antebellum starts off talking about scattered pictures. The image struck a chord with me (no pun intended). This book starts with my heroine Brooke looking at pictures of her now deceased fiancé. After hearing this song, I changed part of the scene to her sitting on the floor with pictures scattered around her. She’s packing them away to move forward with her life.
Sometimes my heroes are musicians like Reed Walker in Body Shots, available from Ellora’s Cave. He’s a singer and guitar player. His band plays at the heroines bar. Reed signs a song he’d written for the heroine many years prior, weakening her defenses.
Those are just a few examples of how I weave my love for music into my writing life. Is there anything that plays a big role in your life?
Katalina Leon: I have to listen to music when I write, it’ not an option, it’s a must! I prefer moody instrumental soundtracks when I’m actually writing, but I listen to and love all this stuff too, whenever I need a little break.
Best song to make me wish I’d taken guitar lessons seriously:
Led Zeppelin’s ”Ten Years Gone”
(In this scene Jael has pulled a stone from Witch Casey’s wish bag and had her fortune told by a wriggly snake, now she has to sit still for a moment and reflect on her love life.)
Jael closed her fingers around the stone and thought of another man who worked with her—Kypton. Kypton was quiet and aloof with most everyone in the department, but his gaze followed her longingly every time she walked past.
When she told her friends she liked the manager of the IT department, they teased her relentlessly. They couldn’t picture her with a computer geek. Thing was, Kypton was the furthest thing from a computer geek. She understood why they immediately thought of someone with glasses, a shirt buttoned up tight to the neck, and a pocket protector sticking out of his shirt pocket. That wasn’t Kypton.
What her friends and others in her office seemed to miss was that beneath the subdued exterior, Kypton was smoking hot with pale blond hair and baby blue eyes. His voice carried the softest hint of northern Europe. He pronounced e’s as a’s, and she wondered if Kypton had gone to school in Switzerland or lived near there as a child.
Occasionally she was fortunate enough to peek down his collar and glimpse the silky blond hair on his chest. His broad shoulders and well-defined chest stood out in anything he wore. His arms looked like he frequented the gym, and those fitted khakis he favored as office wear gave her a view of a sexy, tight ass. A hint of smoldering physicality simmered just below the surface as if he were completely capable of picking her up, carrying her into a quiet storage room, and banging her senseless. At least that was what she hoped. She concluded the other women in her office must be blind or foolish not to notice Kypton’s potential. Kypton seemed thoughtful and sensitive too, which was a huge plus. He’d jumped in to help her on numerous occasions, often staying late at work to do so. He also avoided all office gossip or conflicts and went out of his way to help others before he was even asked, which she found pretty damn attractive.
All in all Kypton was a dreamy guy, even if he might appear a bit sedate.
Only problem was Roarke attracted her too.
Roarke was Kypton’s opposite. Roarke was outgoing and authoritative. When he entered the room, others stopped what they were doing to listen. Though he was a manager, he had an artistic, wild vibe about him that was exciting to be near. He dressed well in bold colors like earthy orange or rich purple. It was a treat to watch him walk past her desk and catch a whiff of his subtle citrusy aftershave—that was, if he ever really shaved. His square jaw seemed perpetually stubbled in a grainy, sexy sort of way.
Roarke had coppery skin and the swarthy good looks of a Barbary pirate chief. She half fantasized he was the son of some powerful khan and his mother was some delicate-boned beauty. Roarke was both puzzling and stunning to look at. His sleek nose and chiseled bone structure made his origins difficult to guess. She wondered if there was a tribe of exotically perfect people hiding somewhere on a long-forgotten island, who sneaked away from their hidden paradise now and then to work as office managers.
As a natural leader, Roarke drew people to his side with ease. He spoke passionately with his expressive hands and cognac-brown eyes as much as he did with words. Anything earthy and creative interested him—nature, movies, paintings, or books, he loved them all. His apartment contained a dazzling array of fine books and an impressive collection of beautiful artifacts displayed in lit niches.
A visit to his apartment was not only a physical thrill; it was mentally stimulating to the artist in her to look at the many things he’d collected over the years. Roarke seemed to live in such a different world from the average person, and she longed be to invited in.
Roarke worked as a manager in the human resource department of International Explorer magazine and network. He was well respected and very much in demand.
She’d foolishly told Roarke on the first date she had no intention of getting involved with a coworker, so maybe some of the distance between them was her fault. She wanted to take it back. What a dummy she was for saying that.
That wasn’t to say nothing had happened between them. It had. Twice after a dreamy museum date or trip to the movies on Roarke’s birthday, the date had ended with both of them unable to keep their hands off each other.
Roarke had picked her up, carried her into his bedroom, tossed her onto his amethyst sheets, and lavished her with the best oral she’d ever had. Roarke was a total sensualist and seemed to know exactly what she needed to come hard. She’d loved every second of writhing in his firm but loving grasp and was eager to reciprocate.
She just wasn’t sure where she stood with him. A date once in a while was for chumps. Maybe he was waiting for her to admit that she did want to get involved with a coworker before pursuing her a little harder.
“Never underestimate the power of love.” Witch Casey winked as she popped the captured snake back into the basket.
Jael turned her attention to the woman standing in front of her. Had she been reading Jael’s mind?
“Your dilemma will not be hard to decide. You already know exactly what you want, and you don’t have to choose.”
Jael’s eyes widened.
Dear God, she can read my mind. I wonder if she saw the naughty thoughts?
“I did, dear.” Witch Casey shrugged. “But your secrets are safe with me. Besides, no one believes me anyway.”
(Jael’s life gets crazy fast, when she returns to work to face Roarke and Kypton with the wish stone in her pocket.)
I’m an artist, an author, mother and wife. I write for Loose Id Publishing and Ellora’s Cave. I try to bring a touch of the mystical and a big sense of adventure to everything I write because I believe there’s a bold, kick-ass heroine inside all of us who wants to take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero.
From a very young age, Amber Skyze began making up stories–the only child syndrome. Telling tall tales to all her friends she never dreamed of putting words on paper. In fact if anyone asked her if she would write when she grew up, she’d have laughed.
It wasn’t until raising children and reading all those romances that she decided–hey, I can write these. HA! Easier said than done.
When not crafting hot, steamy tales, this New York transplant now resides in Rhode Island with her husband, four children (who force her to work a day job), and three dogs.
She currently writes for Ellora’s Cave, Loose Id and is self-published.
Blessed with the gift of telepathy, Terek always knows what a woman wants. His gift has afforded him nightly sensual pleasures and exotic treats for centuries, but beneath the surface he yearns for much more.
Ilona can give him what his soul craves, but only if he trusts his heart. One fateful choice made out of desire puts all he cares for in danger. With a civil war and the threat of Archon hunters at every turn, this Son may lose everything if he can’t find the balance between heart and mind.
Tracing the outline of her jaw, he watched the face of this angel and hated having to wake her. But if she didn’t take his blood, he’d lose her for certain and for the first time since he’d turned her, he knew he couldn’t bear to think of his world without her.
“Ilona,” he whispered near her cheek. “Wake. I’m here.”
Slowly her eyelids fluttered open and eyes vacant and lost stared back at him. “Terek?”
Her gaze cut like a knife to his heart. She was nearly gone already, her soul slipping into that void between the vampire and human worlds.
“Look into my eyes, Ilona. Look! I need you to stay with me.”
Her eyelids drooped as she began to lose consciousness. Terror raced through his body. There was no more time to wait. Fear of losing her controlled his every move, and his fangs exploded into his mouth. In seconds, he’d pierced his wrist and the blood began to seep from his vein.
Pressing it to her pale lips, he waited in desperation for her to take his blood into her mouth. The blood pooled on her lips, but she made no effort to take it.
“Ilona! Listen to your sire. Drink. Now!” he commanded.
Her eyes opened and turning her head, she whispered, “No. Let me go.”
More roughly than he should have, he grabbed her face in his hand and forced her to look at him. “No, I will not lose you! Drink!”
Her voice began to fade and faintly she answered, “Please. I can’t live like this.”
Terek bent over her and placed a kiss on her lips. The fear that he’d lost her already pressed on his heart and even though he didn’t understand why, he was sure when she left him she’d take a piece of his soul with her.
He whispered against her lips one last plea. “Do not take her from me. God, leave her with one who can care for her. I beg of you. Do not take her.”
“Why do you want me to live when I don’t?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Because there is something special in you as there is in all creatures.”
A tiny sigh escaped from between her lips. “You made me this and left me.”
Cradling her face in his hands, he said, “I’m sorry. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”
“I can’t be one of these women. I don’t understand this.”
Terek kissed her tenderly. “Then don’t be. Stay anyway.”
Anguish filled her voice. “I woke and I was so hungry. But I don’t want food. I hungered for you, but you were gone.”
“Take from me everything you hunger for. Take from the one who knows what you need.”
Pressing his wrist to her mouth, he fed her soul with his blood. Timid, she stared up at him in fear, but soon her hands held his arm to her lips and she eagerly took what he offered.
Her need for him—for his blood—touched his heart, and a closeness unlike anything he’d experienced in ages came over him. Something about Ilona made him feel like he hadn’t felt in almost seven hundred years.
He wanted to save her, to show her the wonders the world offered. If she would allow him, he’d give her that world.
Ilona opened her eyes, and Terek saw that his blood had begun to bring her back from the empty abyss he’d feared and she’d begged for. A tiny smile formed on her lips, making him happy.