Christine Gemberling doesn’t enjoy breaking hearts, but she has yet to find a man who knows how to handle the package between his legs well enough to satisfy her needs. No man has held her interest beyond a second date—much less her love. Until one sultry night with an Elite Escort rocks her world like never before.
Professional escort Jarod Zimmerman has a strict code when working with clients—no emotional attachments. But the beer-drinking, football loving Christine and her curves push beyond his control, until the guarded playboy finds himself craving another go-round with the only woman intriguing enough to make him break his own code.
With her defenses stronger than his favorite football team, it will take more than Jarod’s talents in bed to change her stance on relationships. He’ll have to sacrifice his heart when the unexpected circumstance thrown their way threatens to rip them apart forever.
*Warning: Exhibition, spanking, anal sex, sex toys
Jarod lowered onto the limo seat beside me and pressed close, his large hand grasping the top of my thigh.
“Where to?” Ricky asked as he settled behind the wheel a moment later.
I spouted off my address quite a ways up Route 1, and with a nod, he shut the window between us, encasing Jarod and I in complete privacy. Soft music came to life, and seconds later, the limo pulled out into Boston’s nighttime traffic.
“For the first go-round, I’m going to fuck you against the front door of your house, but right now,” Jarod said, lowering to his knees in front of me, “I’m going to bury my nose between these thighs and lick your cunt until you squirm.”
“I like the way you think,” I said, my voice breathless, betraying my body’s need.
His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my skirt into a bunch. I wiggled, assisting in his plan, and he yanked me to the seat’s edge.
“Comfy?” he asked, trailing a fingertip against the soaked silk covering me.
Jarod hooked his fingers under the sides of my panties and pulled them down my legs, releasing my heeled feet one at a time. He tossed the panties aside, and grasping my knees, spread me wide.
“Bare.” He stared at the smooth skin between my thighs as he moved close. “I like that.” Palming my ass, he lifted me and buried his face in my pussy as promised, my moan and his groan colliding in the air between us.
My eyelids fluttered shut and head tipped back as he ate me out like a starving man. Tongue, nose, and teeth, he didn’t pussyfoot around, but tortured me with his need to taste every inch, fuck me deep with his long tongue, nibble my swollen lips … flick and suck my throbbing clit.
My fingers found purchase in his hair, and I ground myself against his face, chasing my orgasm. Bastard let off and dipped low to lick my ass and tongue me every time I neared the crest. I tried to force his head back up to my clit, but he held steady, denying me what I wanted.
“Goddamn it, Jarod!” I yanked on his hair as my clit popped from his mouth’s suction again and he roamed southward to my ass.
He snickered and caught my gaze as his tongue rimmed my puckered hole.
My hold tightened on his hair, my heart thundered in my chest. “Please. I need to come.”
Finally—finally—he pressed two fingers deep into my sopping wet core. “Is this what you need, Christine? My fingers fucking your cunt and my mouth on your clit?”
“Oh, fuck.” My head tipped back again as he latched onto my clit. “Don’t stop. Please … Christ, don’t stop!” You’d think I hadn’t climaxed in months the way my orgasm ripped through me.
Jarod’s fingers and tongue drew out every clench of my pussy, every shudder rippling down through me as I gasped for breath. He lapped up every trace of my cum and sucked his fingers clean, the noises in his throat barely reaching through the ringing in my ears.
I sagged into the leather seat, sucking wind. “Holy shit. It’s no wonder you get paid to please a woman.”
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Gorgeous, powerful warlock, Indigo Vaughn, sells his magic spells to people looking to make a dream come true. One night, as he gazes down on the city below from his sky barge The Dreamboat, he wonders why, in centuries, his own wish for a man to love hasn’t materialized.
Beautiful, sexy, Darian O’Harr has suffered his fair share of misery. He’s a musician and learned long ago to sing for his supper. New to the city, he comes to Indigo seeking a spell that will bring him the love of a handsome man.
As soon as he sets eyes on Indigo, his heart races and his body betrays his pent up needs.
Here is the man of his dreams. What can Darian do as the warlock gathers his magic to cast a spell that will bring him another man?
On launch special discount price at Evernight Publishing
Indigo didn’t sleep well for three nights after meeting Darian. On the fourth night he didn’t sleep at all. His sexual needs beat at him, until he couldn’t think straight. His desire burned until all he could think about was fucking. He pushed his breakfast around on his plate the next morning. That day he stalked the corridors of The Dreamboat eschewing meetings and focused only on the security arrangements for the queen’s celebrations. At sixteen hundred hours he called Milan to his side.
“Will you make an appointment at Temptations for me? Twenty-three hundred hours will be good.”
Milan’s gentle smile comforted him. “One, Two, or Three, sir?”
Indigo shook his head slowly. His desire threatened to overwhelm him. Nearly crazed with sexual need, Indigo needed to deal with it or be incomplete for weeks to come. “All of them. Thank you.”
Moments later, Milan returned. “You’re expected at Temptations, twenty-three hundred hours as you requested. Permit me to take you there and wait to bring you home?”
“Yes, of course.”
Temptations buzzed with chatter and thumped with music in the main downstairs room. People danced, some grinding their bodies against each other’s.
A host met Indigo. “It’s been a while, sir. I trust you are well. Your requested companions are ready.”
Indigo nodded. He silently followed the host to the upstairs room where beautiful men he knew only by a number would slake his desires that night.
The host left him.
Indigo wore only a belted kilt and ankle length hooded cloak over his naked body. He stepped out of his soft suede ankle boots, and waited, his cock already half-erect with anticipation.
Gorgeous men entered the room, their naked bodies muscled, their eyes dark with desire, they came to Indigo silently.
Indigo savored their looks, big cocks already filling out into erections. His admiring gaze raked over the men, their lush dark hair, soft and well-cut, blue eyes, gray eyes, smooth skin free of body hair, and his cock jerked as his stomach tightened. He loved men. These men were the best of Temptations male brothel, and they’d serviced him once before a year ago. He sighed recalling the satisfaction. The night sparkled with promise. He watched with growing sexual hunger.
One carried a tray and placed it on the table away from the huge low bed. On the tray—a carafe of water so cold it misted the glass, sachets of lube, condoms, sex toys, tissues, and a wine glass.
One unclipped Indigo’s cloak and after grazing his lips on Indigo’s, he brought the cloak to a freestanding rail and hung it.
A low murmur of appreciation fell from Indigo’s mouth as he savored the fleeting kiss from One’s perfect lips.
Two knelt and traced his fingertips up and down Indigo’s legs, reaching his balls and circling feather light touches there that made Indigo’s cock fill out in a delicious slow sensation.
Indigo closed his eyes with lust as his stomach tightened and jerked his cock when Two stroked the backs of his thighs.
Three took the belt from Indigo’s kilt as One slid his hands around Indigo’s face and held him fast kissing him hungrily. The kiss seared desire through Indigo and he slid his palms along the satiny skin of One’s muscled chest with a groan.
Contract killer Felix Zamaro isn’t looking for love—at his age, all he wants to do is retire. When he interrupts a robbery-in-progress, he stumbles into a mess: Nick Banner is in town to help his sister kick her loser boyfriend to the curb.
Nick never thought he’d meet a hot-as-hell assassin in the middle of a random coffee run, but watching Felix take down a couple of thieves in a crappy gas station has him questioning his rule against playing with straight guys.
When Felix’s next mark turns out to be none other than the boyfriend of Nick’s sister, all hell breaks loose. When Nick moves into the house next door to Felix, both men think fate is messing with them. However, it’s Nick’s unexpected career choice that really throws Felix off his game, and for a killer, that could be a fatal mistake.
Erin M. Leaf is a romance novel devotee, the steamier the better, with a specialty in edgy erotic tension. She also writes romance as Marie E. Blossom.
Felix grunted. What the fuck was wrong with him? Just the sound of Nick’s low, sleepy voice sparked another surge of heat.
“Still trying to convince yourself that you’re straight?” Nick asked, sounding more awake.
Felix frowned, head turning towards Nick. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Nick sighed, pushing the covers down to his waist. “I’ve seen you looking at me.”
Felix sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going out to walk the perimeter.”
Before he could stand up, Nick’s hand landed on his shoulder. “No, you’re not.” His voice was low and soft. Unthreatening.
Felix’s muscles tightened anyway. Nick’s hand was warm and heavy. His training told him that he could grab Nick’s wrist and break his elbow, or twist him around and rip out his throat, but the strange tension flaring through his body wouldn’t let him move. “You don’t want to do this, Nick,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“Do what?” Nick pulled him back down to the mattress. “Touch you? Make you feel good?” He pressed Felix’s wrists down, hard.
Felix flexed his biceps. In the dark, Nick was a dark shape looming over him. Instead of fear, or anger, Felix’s emotions jumped wildly from arousal to confusion. “I could break your neck.”
“That knowledge just makes it sweeter,” Nick murmured.
“Makes what sweeter?” Felix asked, voice raspy. He couldn’t seem to breathe right. Is this a panic attack? he asked himself. He’d never experienced anything like this. His entire life had been a systematic observation of facts and rational decisions. Nothing much bothered him—not killing, not violence, not sex. Boredom was a problem, but he certainly wasn’t fucking bored at the moment. I’m screwed, he thought, still not throwing Nick’s ass to the floor.
“This,” Nick said, leaning down and kissing the side of Felix’s jaw. “Jesus, you smell good.”
Felix flexed his arms, pushing up against Nick. “Stop. You know I’m straight.”
“Make me.” Nick moved his lips down Felix’s shoulder and pressed his lips to the crook of his elbow.
Felix froze. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
“You’re not straight, and you don’t want me to stop, Felix,” Nick said, and then he bit the soft skin of his arm.
Felix groaned. Just that one sharp touch brought him right to the edge. “Fuck.” His hips strained upwards as his balls drew into his body. His cock hurt.
“No, no fucking yet. Tonight, I’m going to blow you.” Nick shoved down Felix’s sweatpants and took his cock in his hand. “I can’t wait to suck you off. I bet you’ll try and keep quiet. I bet I can make you come so hard you won’t know where you are anymore.”
“Jesus Christ.” Felix gripped the sheets. He’d never wanted a mouth on his dick so bad before. Nick’s voice had him shaking. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
Nick chuckled. “I’m not doing anything yet.” He leaned in and blew along Felix’s erection. “This isn’t just about me, straight boy. This is about you. You’ve suppressed your sexuality for so long that you don’t have a damn clue about what you like and don’t like. You’ve been fucking the wrong gender your whole life.”
“Screw you. I’ve been straight for decades. I’ve fucked plenty of women,” Felix ground out, not wanting to admit how hot Nick’s touch made him. You’re going to eat your words, a small voice in the back of his head told him.
Nick slid his thumb over the top of Felix’s erection and rubbed the pre-cum welling from the tip in a tight circle. “And every one of those women left you empty. Missing something. I bet you haven’t even bothered to pick someone up for the past few years. You haven’t hooked up with anyone lately, have you?”
Felix shuddered, but didn’t reply. Nick was right. He hadn’t even attempted to get laid recently. Why bother? The women always wanted more from him than he was willing to give, and the rote mechanics of sex bored him lately. “Just get on with it,” he grated out, not in the mood for a psychoanalytical mind-fuck at the moment.
Nick laughed. “Oh no, my friend. My blowjobs are works of art. I am going to go slow, and I am going to drive you out of your fucking mind.”
Welcome, Doris. Your new novel, Her Best Friend’s Husband, certainly turned me on my ear once I realized the best friend and husband were a gay couple! Even as a gay man, my thought process has been so indoctrinated into the “norms” of an historically heterosexual society, I never considered that possibility. Kudos to you on that!
All authors have their own reasons for writing a book. What are yours?
I simply listen to the voices in my head, when they demand I tell their story.
What would you like readers to take away from your story? Does it contain a message?
That love conquers everything.
Where did you find your inspiration for the story? Was it a person, a current event, something you witnessed, or something else?
Like so many of my stories the idea for this one was first sparked by a picture and the resulting tease on my blog.
The picture was a naked guy in bed, holding a wedding cake. How did I arrive from that to this story? Well, my muse works in mysterious ways, lol. The story slowly evolved and it was stuck in limbo for a long time, until I got the urge one day to pick up that manuscript, and the rest is history, as they say. ☺
Did you face any obstacles or challenges while writing the story and if so, what were they?
Like I said above, it stayed in limbo for a while, over a year in fact, until the characters started talking to me again, and then my fingers flew.
What have you learned from the main characters in your story?
How much emphasis do you put on supporting characters to move the plot of your stories along? Have any of your supporting characters ever gotten their own story?
Oh, most of my series never started out as such. As I write a side character would pop up and demand I write theirs and before you know it, I have a series on my hands, lol.
Do you write in other genres and if so, what are they? What genres would you like to try that you haven’t already?
I have a very unpredictable muse, so I write across several genres and subgenres. So far, I’ve written contemporary, paranormal, Sci-fi, Interracial, and suspense erotic romance with varying degrees of kink. M/F, M/M, F/F, MMF, MFM.
I would love to write a YA romance one day, but I can’t ever see that happening in reality, as my characters simply cannot keep their hands off each other. Never say never though, right?
What or who influences your writing?
Literally everything I see, read, and watch. My writing is constantly evolving and that’s the way it should be. There’s always room for improvement, after all.
What is your writing process? Are you a patnser or a plotter, or a little of both?
Utter and complete pantster here.
Do you have any author idols and if so, how would you like to meet them?
I was fortunate to meet one of my favourite authors—Heidi Rice—at the start of my writing journey and I found her workshop to be invaluable. Not least because she’s a panster like me. Such a revelation that was.
Since then I’ve become friends with many of the authors I used to read in awe, and it still gives me such a thrill, when we communicate. Albeit via e-mail or Social Media only, as I have yet to make it across the big pond. One day I will.
What do you do in your down time to feed your soul?
I spend time with my family, binge watch fav series (Grey’s Anatomy, Outlander, Vikings, to name but a few), I read, walk the dogs, etc.
What’s next on your literary horizon?
Well, my muse currently has me writing four different stories at the same time. She seems incapable of making up her mind and settling down to just one.
glares at said muse
I’m also planning on adding to The Projects, The Warriors and The Cleaners next year.
What is important in your life and why?
My family, they always come first. Hubby and I have been blessed with nine children and various fur babies. While several of our kids are now adults, and two don’t live with us anymore but their respective partners, they will always be our priority.
Our youngest is only six, so I’m a mummy and wife before anything else.
Your best friend’s wedding is not the time to realize how much you love him…
Wedding organizer Naomi Young is not only head-over-heels in love with her best friend, she lusts after his husband.
Which is all kinds of wrong—isn’t it? Maybe not. Especially when she discovers the attraction is not as one-sided as she thought.
Dom Dawson Monroe has never had a problem going after what he wants. Both he and his new husband Josh Garrison enjoy a woman’s soft touch, so who better to satisfy that need than the one woman Josh is madly in love with? Time to claim them both as his submissives.
Convention be damned. Happiness is to be found in the soft curves of Naomi’s body, as long as they can convince her that this is forever. Only time will tell if the loving twosome can become an even more loving threesome.
Be Warned: BDSM, m/m sex, menage sex (MMF), double penetration
“Perhaps the boy’s timing was unfortunate, but he would only owe you an apology if you hadn’t enjoyed that kiss. And we all know you did. I’d wager you’re getting wet just remembering those kisses. I know I got hard witnessing it. You two look hot together.”
Naomi gasped and opened her mouth as though to protest, but one knowing smirk from Dawson meant she simply shook her head.
“Nothing to say to that, little one?”
That question, delivered in that deep, dark, gravelly voice—his Dom voice, as Josh called it—appeared to have the same effect on Naomi, as it always did on him. Her breathing sped up, and she tensed. While he couldn’t see them from his position in his back seat, Josh bet his next orgasm that her nipples were hard little beacons signaling her arousal as clearly as the moan she swallowed. It made him wish this infernal journey was over already. He couldn’t wait to see his life-long friend squirm in pleasure under his and Dawson’s hands.
His Master’s gaze dropped down to Naomi’s cleavage and Dawson’s grin turned positively sinful.
“Never mind words, your body gives you away. If I touched you now, I’d find you sopping wet for us, wouldn’t I? In fact…”
Dawson reached across and placed his large hand on Naomi’s knee. She jumped but didn’t stop him as he proceeded to pull up the hem of her dress, exposing acres of dark skin. The contrast of Dawson’s much lighter hand on Naomi’s thighs was startling. Josh groaned, and Naomi crunched the gear again as the traffic started moving.
“Please, I … don’t.” She flung an imploring look at Master and gasped when his hand briefly disappeared between her ample thighs. Josh balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grasping his dick, because seeing Master’s hand reappear seconds later, his digits glistening with the unmistakable evidence of Naomi’s arousal … fuck, that was hot.
Dawson grinned, licked one digit, and then held his hand out for Josh.
“Here, have a taste.”
His amber eyes darkened when Josh grasped Master’s hand. Naomi’s sweet, addictive taste exploded on his taste buds, made ten times more potent because it was mixed in with the familiar scent of the man he loved to distraction. Josh’s balls drew up in response, and he grunted as his dick jerked inside his pants.
“No coming without my say-so, boy. Besides, you make a mess in our girl’s car you’ll be cleaning it up.”
“Oh my God, you two are too much. I’m sitting right here, you know. Are either one of you going to actually ask me what I think?”
Naomi’s voice had risen to a shrill screech in her agitation. It served as an ice-cold dampener to Josh’s arousal, and he hastily released Dawson’s hand.
“Of course, we do.” He threw an imploring glance at his husband, and Dawson gave a sharp nod. Relief flooded through Josh, at that non-verbal confirmation that his Master was more than willing to step in.
“None of this will work without your consent, and communication is vital. I just don’t appreciate you lying to yourself, or us, girl,” Dawson said.
Naomi tensed further, and Josh could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. Any minute now she would explode in anger.
“Look, Naomi, what Dawson is trying to say—”
“Spare me, Josh.” Naomi glared at him through the rearview mirror, and in a move that wouldn’t have been amiss in a Bond movie, she pulled into the fast lane and put her foot down, as the traffic cleared. Dawson’s hand braced on the dashboard again, and when he looked all set to say something, Josh put his hand on his Master’s shoulder. Dawson glanced back at him, and his brows drew together in a frown at Josh’s shake of the head. He heeded his request, however, and didn’t say anything, as Naomi broke every speed limit in the land in her haste to seemingly get away from them all.
An awkward silence fell between them all, only broken by Naomi’s soft curses when she had to slow down for the inevitable traffic, interspersed by Dawson’s sighs.
Oh, Master was pissed and getting more annoyed by the minute. One of Dawson’s unbreakable rules was the need for his submissives to stay safe. Unwittingly Naomi was breaking that rule, and Josh knew he had to say something to calm this situation down.
“Slow down, sweet cheeks. Getting us killed will not get us there any faster. I’m sorry okay.”
Naomi gasped and glanced at him through the mirror. The sheen of tears in her eyes was like a punch to the gut, and he put his hand on her shoulder. He took the fact that she didn’t immediately shrug him off as a good sign. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you, but I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’m not sorry this is out in the open. We should have probably had this conversation before I got married, but there never seemed a right time, and I’m a fucking coward, okay? I was too afraid to lose our friendship, but we could be so good together. All of us.”
“Where to begin? Katherine is a smart, strong, sexy heroine, but she’s also vulnerable in ways that make her an extremely compelling MC! I loved her perspective, and her relationships with the other characters, including but not limited to her love interest, were so well-developed that I really felt immersed in her world. The bond between Katherine and her family, especially her mother, added a lot of depth to the overall story and raised the stakes in the more suspenseful moments.
Then there’s Quinn… His chemistry with Katherine was sizzling, and he was just the right combo of sweet and mysterious! The author really took the time to develop their relationship, and it was anything but predictable. There’s a perfect blend of edge-of-your-seat action and steamy romance that kept my attention the whole way through, and I can’t wait to read the sequel and see how this story continues to develop! Blood of Eden easily makes my list of top favorite werewolf stories and laid the foundation for a world I didn’t want to leave.” ~ Amazon reviewer
The epic conclusion to The Guardians trilogy is going live on December 20th… so, mark your calendars and get your pre-order now while it’s still just .99¢!!!
Blood of Eden .99¢ – https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Eden-Canadian-romantic-Guardians-ebook/dp/B01FZQKH4W
My Brother’s Keeper $3.99 – https://www.amazon.com/My-Brothers-Keeper-Canadian-Guardians-ebook/dp/B01LW2F66O