I have another of my refurbed stories ready for prime time! Pay attention to the warning:
Warning! Burning up the sheets is putting it mildly!
Inhibitions are out the door with scenes of m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f, and m/m!
Enjoy an excerpt! Happy reading!
Raw Silk
A wicked, no-strings one-night stand turns unexpectedly complicated when lonely hearts collide…
Camille sacrificed romance for success long ago. Now that the lingerie company she and her best friend built is hugely successful, she has a few regrets. Wanting to let down her hair and explore the possibilities, she agrees to meet a man at a bar for drinks only to wind up needing help when she rebuffs his sexual overtures.
Jake and Daniel are two firefighters hitting the bar for a quick drink after a long shift when they see a classy beauty fending off an overzealous boyfriend. With a flex of biceps, they chase him off then settle in to seduce the lovely woman whose eyes reflect a hunger they understand all too well.
What starts as a simple, pleasurable one-night stand, quickly burns up the sheets. While Jake falls deeper into love with Camille, Daniel still thinks he can walk—until he gets a whiff of Camille’s best friend Lacey. Suddenly, three isn’t enough.
Warning! Burning up the sheets is putting it mildly! Inhibitions are out the door with scenes of m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f and m/m.
Camille’s hands shook as she inserted the key in her apartment door. The two burly men flanking her hadn’t given her an inch of space to breathe, hadn’t left her alone a single moment to rethink this plan.
It had all happened so fast. One minute her focus was Malcolm and the contract his company had been on the verge of offering. Then in the blink of an eye, she’d been seduced away from her purpose by two slick firefighters with bodies to die for. Was she really going to make love with both of them? Was she that desperate?
The lock clicked. Jake reached around her and shoved open the door.
She shouldn’t have been excited by the urgency his action telegraphed. Alarm would have been a more natural reaction, but she did like the way he took charge. How long had it been since a man did anything other than follow her politely inside?
Danny pushed her through the door. His hands were already tugging away her jacket and going for her blouse, reaching around her to unbutton the long row while he touched her intimately down her front.
Too late, she remembered the creamy, ultra-feminine floral bra she’d donned at the shop. As soon as her blouse opened, her nipples peeked above the “shelf”.
Danny’s breath hitched, jerking his chest against her back. His hands cupped her bare flesh, squeezing.
Jake closed the door behind them and stalked past, pulling his T-shirt over his head. All she could do was gape. With a strong male body heating up her backside and all that luscious muscle to view while she was being stripped, she knew she was in way over her head.
When he glanced back, Jake’s face was taut, his gaze narrowing on her mostly naked chest. Looking at him was like eyeing a tiger at the zoo, only there weren’t bars between them to keep her safe.
Holding her gaze, he strode toward her and knelt, his gaze smoldering. He eased his hands under skirt.
Her breaths shortened when his fingertips traced the tops of her thigh-high hosiery. His fingers lingered, slipped inside the snug bands and let them go.
The snap and the darkening pleasure etched on his face made her knees weak. He rolled the hose downward, lifted one foot at a time to slip off her pumps and the stockings. Then he was back under her skirt again, swooping upward. His hands stopped at the edge of her lacy panties then traced the elastic around her hips.
The rise of his eyebrows and the amused quirk of his lips was all the reaction he gave. Hidden under his skirt, he tugged the slender elastic, tightening it between her buttocks.
She bit her lips rather than bleat a breathy Jesus, because she had the feeling she’d be praying for release over and over again this night.
How the hell had she gotten herself into this situation? Did she really want rescuing? Maybe she just needed them to slow down so she could catch her breath—or so she could savor the scandalous delight.
This was all her sister’s fault. Amy’s newfound happiness with her husband had Camille rethinking her own life choices. Including the one that had excluded any long-term relationships. How could she have known she’d have such a long drought of partners?
She’d wanted the career and the opulent storefront. However, the soft chubby-cheeked baby she’d held in her arms last weekend had reminded her that time was marching on, and she wasn’t getting any younger.
If she was going to find Mr. Right, she had to get out more. Malcolm had seemed an appropriate choice. She’d mistaken him for a gentleman.
These two enthusiastic men weren’t on her agenda at all, but then again, she needed some practice. What would one night of freaky sex hurt anyway?
It wasn’t as if they were ever going to see each other again. They didn’t run in the same circles. They could have their choice of women given their attractiveness and sheer maleness. So it wasn’t likely that either of them would give her another thought past this delicious moment.
She could do this…let some of the pent-up yearnings she’d ignored unravel a bit. And she couldn’t think of two better candidates for the job.
Jake was the taller of the two, his shoulders nearly as wide her doorway. He’d had to duck to step inside. He was handsome in a rough-hewn way with a blunt nose and chin. His eyes were a startling blue. Even his close-cropped brown hair appealed. For as large as he was, he moved with grace. She remembered the way he’d danced, his body surrounding her, supporting her with his thigh and the tender crush of his fingers.
Danny, only slightly less tall and broad, was still mouthwateringly masculine. His brown eyes danced with easy humor until aroused, then glinted darkly, his expression growing almost feral. Scary, in a completely sexy way.
And she was going to experience them both. Somehow, she knew they wouldn’t be one-minute wonders, and that the competition between them would only spur them to provide her greater delights.
If Lacey could see her now, she’d be shocked. And beside herself with laughter. Steady, much-too-sensible Camille was about to be the filling in a very naughty sandwich.
“You’re thinking too much,” Jake said, still kneeling at her feet. Her blouse was open, her bra hanging off her arms, and Danny was peering over her shoulder at her breasts while he played.
The corners of Jake’s mouth curled, and he grabbed the hem of her skirt and began to roll it upward, baring the length of her legs then passing her crotch until the fabric bunched around her waist.
Out of reflex, she pressed her knees together, but he wasn’t having any of it. Jake slipped his hands between her legs and pushed apart her thighs.
Danny pinched her nipples, distracting her, and then Jake leaned closer and pressed kisses on her upper thighs. When his fingers grazed her sex through the delicate lace, she jumped, gasping. But he only smiled and planted his thumbs on her outer folds, pressing through the fabric to spread them open. He gave a quick upward glance and winked, catching her open-mouthed expression.
She swallowed hard as he stuck out his tongue and touched her there. Rubbing it over the lacy fabric above her hooded clit. Just that one little spot when she was ready for him to plunge deep. But the teasing little flicker sent darts of electric pleasure zinging toward her womb.
Danny pinched her nipples harder, and she quivered, jerking softly against his chest.
Jake burrowed deeper and latched his wicked lips around her cloaked clit and suckled, the moist sounds obscene in the silence surrounding them. She was the only one nearly naked. The only one exposed.
“Are you close, sweetheart? Tell me when you’re close,” Danny whispered in her ear.
“Almost there,” she moaned. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened because, amazingly, she was beginning the spiral.
Jake leaned back and smoothed his hands up the outside of her thighs, soothing her while she caught her breath. He lurched upward and grabbed her waist, hoisting her off the ground. Danny’s hands fell away.
“Put your legs around me,” Jake growled. “Where’s the bedroom?”
Hi, Delilah. Thanks for having me here today. And greetings to your readers.
I’m one of those writers who actually holds degrees in writing. Because I have a master’s degree, I’m qualified to teach on the college level, and I did so for a couple of years. The moderator of one of my critique groups was fond of saying that degreed authors as well as writing professors wrote terrible novels. That was two strikes against me. Three and I was out before I even started.
Funny thing is, writing was always a stress-reliever for me, so it was never something I considered as a career. Because of that, when I started college, I was a business major. Hated that—math, statistics, optimization. Ugh. Despite having no design portfolio, I managed to switch to architecture, which I loved then. Still do, actually. But they were training us to be commercial designers, and I wanted to design homes. That necessitated another change. I thought about interior design or landscape design, but again, I had no portfolio. Then I seriously considered art history or archaeology, because I thought working in a museum would be amazing. But I also wanted to graduate before I was fifty. I was two years into my college career, and I didn’t have any course credits that would apply toward those degrees.
So, I did the only thing that made sense to me. I became a writing major. If I overloaded for a few semesters, I’d be right on track and would graduate in my four-year window (which I did, by the way). Once I had my bachelor’s degree, I could get a graduate degree in art history or archaeology and go on to be a curator.
Two things wrong with that. First, curators spend a lot of time in the business aspect of museums, and I already knew I hated that. Second, I freaking LOVED writing. So, when it came time to get a master’s degree, I stayed with what I knew and loved.
Why am I boring you with this biography? Because it’s relevant to fiction.
I wrote a novella (When We Finally Kiss Goodnight) with characters who are archaeologists. One works in the field, the other in a museum. I got to explore the parts of archaeology that interest me while avoiding the tedium of business management.
I’m also in the middle of a four-book saga (the Medici Protectorate series) with characters who are in the building business. I have an architect in Bleeding Heart and a construction pro in Mind Control, and when I finish the series, I will have an interior designer in Body Armor and a landscape designer in Tortured Soul.
Maybe my critique moderator was onto something. It’s not that writing majors and professors can’t be good authors. It’s just that people from other professions have different experiences and interests to draw on that make their writing richer.
Doctors write medical dramas. Lawyers and police write crime fiction. Military personnel write war stories. You get the idea.
I have plenty of interests. Maybe I shouldn’t have become a writing major. Maybe I should have studied architecture or archaeology. I might have been professionally content. (Note the stress on might.)
But this way, writing fiction, I can be all those things—be anything. Writing lets me live vicariously through my characters. I can be a sea captain, cryptozoologist, doctor, or astronaut. Maybe a wizard or an alchemist.
Actually, I get to be an alchemist in the Medici Protectorate series, too. As well as a mergers and acquisitions executive, a lawyer, an IT guru, and a security specialist. Yep, those of you who have been counting have it right. I’ve got nine different vocations going on in that series, and I get to have fun with each and every one of them.
What is an alchemist like, especially one who mastered immortality and has been alive for five hundred years? Is he experienced, wise, and benevolent? Maybe jaded, calculating, and bored with society? How do you think an architect gets along with a business mogul? A construction foreperson with a lawyer? An interior designer with a hacker? A landscaper with a security expert? Do opposites attract? Do careers even impact interpersonal relationships?
If you’re interested in finding out all those things and more, I’m running a sale right now. For a limited time, Bleeding Heart is on sale for 99¢ and Mind Control for $1.99.
Medici Protectorate Series Premise: The four Notaro sisters are the secret legacy of the Medici, famed rulers of Italy. Michelangelo promised his Medici-benefactor that he’d always watch over the family, and as such, he formed the Medici Protectorate to guard them throughout the generations. Now, Italy is in political turmoil and revolution is imminent. The people are calling for new rulers, and the Notaros are poised to assume control. But a nefarious opposing faction wants the power for themselves. Never was the family in more jeopardy. The four sisters are protected by the Brotherhood—four elite warriors of the Medici Protectorate prophesied to keep the family safe until they fulfill their destinies. They journey around the world in an effort to keep the family safe and the future of Italy secure.
Reading fiction is fascinating because it lets us escape our personal realities and become someone or something else. Writing it is even better, though. It’s the best of both worlds because it allows us to do what we’re good at (telling stories) while exploring our other interests.
It took me a while to declare my major, but I’m convinced I made the right choice. I get to be something different every day. How many careers offer that kind of flexibility and excitement?
Looks like the only third strike I’ll be getting is if I write a baseball-themed novel.
About the Author
Staci Troilo has always loved fiction, ever since her parents read her fairy tales when she was a young girl. Today, her interests are much more eclectic. She loves getting lost in sci-fi battles, fantasy realms, horror worlds, suspenseful intrigues, and romantic entanglements.
As goes her reading, so goes her writing. She can’t pick a single genre to focus on, so she doesn’t even try. She’s proud to say she’s a multi-genre author.
When she’s not reading or writing, she’s spending time with family and friends, possibly cooking for them, or maybe enjoying an afternoon in the pool. To learn more about her, visit http://stacitroilo.com/.
Hi! I’m Opal Carew and I’d like to thank Delilah for inviting me to be a guest blogger today!
Do you enjoy old movies? I love watching old B&W classic romance movies. I used to watch them with my mum when I was a kid.
I loved musicals, like Singing in the Rain, and any Fred Astaire movie, but I particularly liked the fun and poignant romances that would make you laugh and cry. One of my favourites was An Affair to Remember.
Knowing my love of old movies, my husband suggested that I write a book called A Fare to Remember with a female taxi driver, which I thought was a great idea! When he asked me when I’d write it, however, I told him it would probably be about five years.
Fast forward fifteen years and it’s finally done!
Originally, it was scheduled to be released on his birthday (Jan 3rd), which was so wonderfully appropriate. Unfortunately, it got moved to April 4th. But, finally, he can now see it out in the world!
And the cover… Oh, I just LOVE it! A close friend told me it looks like a movie poster and that gave me the idea to have it made into an actual poster, which I gave to my husband for Christmas and we now have hanging on the wall!
A fun fact: I hadn’t finished the book when my publisher (St. Martin’s Press) showed me the cover for the first time. When I saw it, I knew I had to work in a scene to fit that sexy image! I’ve included an excerpt of that scene below.
Now if you think that because this book is based on an old movie that means it won’t be my usual sizzling hot erotic romance, check out the teaser below! 😉
So a few of my favourite old B&W romance movies are:
An Affair to Remember
Bell, Book and Candle
The Desk Set
The Apartment
Some Like It Hot
What are some of yours?
Remember the mention of free books?
I’m not offering a contest where only a couple of peple will win, because every one of you can get several free books by signing up for my Reader Group (OpalCarew.com/ReaderGroup) and by taking advantage of the great new InstaFreebie anthology (instafreebie.com/free/U3fBd) I’ve put together with several other authors. This gives you a chance to sample my writing (and the other authors’ too) to see if you enjoy it. If it’s not your style, you can unsubscribe anytime. No worries! 🙂
A Fare to Remember
A chance encounter leads to a passion they can’t forget in Opal Carew’s newest erotic romance!
Stevie has given up on love and just wants a simple life driving her taxi. But her plans are turned upside down when gorgeous billionaire Reid Jacobs steps into the back of her cab. Commanding and mysterious, he’s a temptation she can’t resist―and soon their torrid one night stand leads to an intoxicating affair.
In Reid’s strong arms, Stevie finds herself falling harder than she ever imagined. But is she ready to trust again? And when his business partner falls for Stevie, will it change everything? One thing is clear: she’s about to take the ride of her life….
“Carew brings erotic romance to a whole new level…she sets your senses on fire!” –Reader to Reader
A Fare to Remember by Opal Carew is one sexy ride!
This is the scene that was inspired by the cover. It’s one of my favourites in the book!
~ ~ ~
Stevie drove to the office tower, then pulled up in front. Dylan strode out the door and over to her cab.
“Hey, thanks for picking me up,” Dylan said with a smile as he got in the back of the cab.
She gazed at him in the rearview mirror and smiled. “It’s what I do.”
He laughed. “Yes, well, I appreciate it. It’s murder getting a cab on a wet night like this.” He pulled off his damp suit jacket and lay it down beside him.
“So where to, sir?” she asked with a grin.
“Well, I have this great penthouse. How about you take me there and we both go up and I’ll show you the fabulous view?”
She caught his gaze in the mirror. “I might be persuaded.”
He opened his briefcase and pulled out a shopping bag from a designer store. “Would it help if I gave you a gift?”
She grinned. “I don’t know. Depends on what it is.”
She pulled off the main road and down a quiet street, then pulled over. She turned and took the bag he offered and peeked inside. She pulled out the tissue and found a lovely white shirred dress. It was very elegant, but at the same time, sexy, since the slinky fabric would cling to her every curve.
She gazed at him questioningly.
“We thought we’d dress for dinner.”
“Should I be insulted?” she teased. “My plaid flannel shirt isn’t good enough for you fancy penthouse dwellers?”
He chuckled. “Personally, I love your plaid flannel. It’s so”—he grinned—“soft to the touch. Especially with you inside it.”
The thought of him touching her shirt . . . stroking over the fabric . . . cupping her breast . . . sent her hormones spinning.
“The fact that you gave this to me now rather than when we reach the apartment . . . I assume that means you want me to put it on now?”
He nodded. “That way from the time you park the cab and we start upstairs, it’s like we’ve started a date.”
She smiled. “A date with two men. I could go for that.” She pulled away from the curb. “I’ll take us somewhere I can change.”
* * *
Dylan was looking forward to this evening. He and Reid had put their heads together to plan the perfect evening to convince Stevie that what Reid could offer her surpassed anything she could get from being with her ex-fiancé, in case she was having second thoughts. Reid felt his biggest weapon was Dylan—a second man to ramp up the excitement.
Dylan was thrilled to be a part of it.
Stevie turned down a quiet street, then into a dark alley. She pulled over and stopped the cab.
“What are we doing here?” he asked, glancing around.
She tossed the shopping bag into his lap, then she got out of the car, opened the back door and climbed into the backseat beside him. Then she started unbuttoning her shirt.
“You’re changing here?” he asked, his eyes widening as she slipped off her shirt, then tugged her navy tank top over her head, revealing her black lace bra.
“Sure. Why not?”
“I . . . uh . . . guess.”
She’d kicked off her shoes and was already slipping off her jeans, pushing them to the floor of the car. At the sight of her in her tiny bra and panties, his groin tightened. She held up the dress.
“Hmm. It’s off the shoulder, and I definitely don’t want a black bra underneath.”
She dropped the dress and reached behind her. His cock swelled as she peeled away her bra and dropped it on the seat. She grinned at him, clearly aware of the effect her perfect, round, naked breasts were having on him.
She pulled the dress over her head and let the slinky garment glide down her body. She pulled it into place, smoothing it down. It lovingly hugged every curve. And he couldn’t help noticing that her hard nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric.
She pushed herself up on her knees. “Do you like it?” she asked, swiveling a little to give him different views.
“Oh, yeah.” His gravelly voice made it clear how much.
She smiled. “Can you see my black undies through the white fabric? Because I wouldn’t want that.”
His gaze jerked to her groin.
“I . . . uh . . .” Just say yes, a little voice shouted in his head.
“Better not to take any chances.” She tugged the hem up a little and slid her hands under the dress, then began to wiggle.
“What are you doing?” But he knew damned well exactly what she was doing.
Dylan almost salivated as Stevie sat down again, then glided her panties down her shapely calves and slipped them off her feet.
“Any shoes?” she asked. “My sneakers will just ruin the look.”
“Uh . . . yeah. In the bag.”
God, she was totally naked under that dress. His cock swelled some more.
She pulled out the shoes—white satin stilettos with rhinestone trim—and slipped them on.
“Nice.” She smiled at him and pushed herself onto her knees again, but this time she pulled up the hem of the dress enough to straddle his legs.
Her fingertips moved down his chest and he realized she was unfastening the buttons of his shirt. She pushed it open and smiled as she stroked his naked flesh.
“Thank you for the pretty gift.”
“It was from Reid, too,” he said absently, mesmerized by the glitter in her eyes.
She rested her hand so her palm cupped his nipple, keeping it warm, then she teased his other nipple with her fingertips.
Get a free anthology of 7 sizzling stories: instafreebie.com/free/U3fBd
About Opal
As a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of erotic contemporary romance, Opal Carew writes about passion, love, and taking risks. Her heroines follow their hearts and push past the fear that stops them from realizing their dreams… to the excitement and love of happily-ever-after.
Opal loves nail polish, cats, old movies, crystals, dragons, feathers, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, Zentangle, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent 15 years as a software analyst before turning to her passion as a writer. She grew up in Toronto, and now lives in Ottawa with her husband, huge nail polish collection, and five cats. One of her sons just finished his second Masters degree in Geopolitics (first at Sussex University in the UK and second at Carleton University in Ottawa.) The other son has an undergraduate degree from Carleton University and is now working at Apple. Yes, mom is proud!
Kralj, the hero of Dark Thoughts, my latest release, EATS his enemies. Dark Thoughts IS a romance. That’s all I write. But it is a dark different romance with a dark different hero, an antihero.
What is an antihero?
Wikipedia ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antihero ) defines an antihero as “a protagonist who lacks conventional heroic qualities such as idealism, courage, or morality. These characters are usually considered ‘conspicuously contrary to an archetypal hero’.”
Romance antiheroes are almost always courageous. They usually have a code of honor also. It simply isn’t the code of honor that the average human in today’s world has.
Kralj is a futuristic hero and he’s not entirely human. That makes his antihero characteristics, to me, more understandable. Kralj is half Beta Taurian Shadow Beast, which is why it is natural for him to eat his prey. Beasts do that.
I find the antihero fascinating to read and to write because the antihero is such an individual. He has his own unique way of looking at the world, his own rules, his own motivations and rationale for being who he is. His backstory is often complex and shocking.
He is delightfully different and, as someone who reads, on average, a romance novel a day, I like that. It is a refreshing change from the noble Dukes, the justice-serving policemen, the hat-tilting cowboys, all of which I vastly enjoy reading about but sometimes appreciate taking a break from.
As a romance writer, I also love the challenge of finding the perfect love interest for the antihero. Anyone could love a nice guy. What type of being would love a flawed male, a male who devours his enemies? That being is tougher to find.
I paired many females with Kralj, my hero, off page. They didn’t work out. The females were too weak for him or they were too grim or they didn’t understand and would never understand why he was the way he was. Kralj isn’t going to change. He isn’t going to magically become a nice, cuddly male. His personality might soften but it wouldn’t shift that dramatically. I needed to find a female who would love him for who he is.
That female is Dita, a pint-sized assassin who is as different as Kralj is. She is a bit of an antiheroine. Kralj calls her a fellow monster. Again, she has her own code of honor and together, they are magical as a couple.
For a chance to win any one eBook from either my backlist or Delilah Devlin’s backlist, let me know in the comments who your favorite fictional antihero is!
Dark Thoughts
Can love redeem a monster?
The Refuge is home to some of the most violent beings in the universe. Kralj, its leader, reigns over the remote outpost with terrifying ease, ruthlessly squashing any rumors of rebellion, killing anyone who breaks his rules. Primitive, deadly, powerful, he’s a monster, scarred both on his face and his soul. He has never met a being he couldn’t control.
Until he meets her.
Dita has one mission—to kill the three targets claiming sanctuary within the Refuge. Or so she claims. For the first time in his long lifespan, Kralj isn’t certain of another being’s intentions. The tiny assassin is immune to his powers, her thoughts unreadable. He can’t predict her movements, can’t control her, can’t stop wanting her.
Dita is rare, as unique as he is, and, to keep the residents of the Refuge safe, Kralj will have to kill her. But first, he’ll touch her, taste her, show her how passionate the beast inside him can be.
Dark Thoughts is a STAND-ALONE SciFi Romance.
The hero might be tall, dark, and scarred but don’t be fooled by his appearance.
He’s truly a monster.
This story is not for readers with delicate sensibilities.
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes SciFi, contemporary and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
It’s no accident that my very first published book was set in outer space. Desire’s Prisonerwas a labor of love. I think you can tell by reading it. I put everything I love in that story—the wonder of outer space, action, sex, humor. I’d love to write another series set in a galaxy far, far, away…
For a chance to win your choice of one of these Planet Desire series stories, answer me this!
Do you love Sci-Fi romance? If so, what flavor of heroes
do you prefer—aliens, cyborgs, magical/fantasy creatures?
(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)
Desire’s Prisoner
Love on the edge of the galaxy…
For Captain Adam Zingh, the mission is simple–acquire one hundred wives for him and his crewmates to help colonize a new planet, far from Dominion rule. Rescuing prisoners from penitentiary in deep space should have been a simple in and out operation. The women would be grateful for a second change at freedom, or so he thought. However, he hadn’t yet encountered the stubborn captain of the prison ship.
When pirates overtake their ship, Evena McClure resists, mindful of her duty to protect the women under her command as well as her impending pardon.
The pirate and the prisoner have only a week to seduce the other side to their will.
A pirate’s parlay has never been so sexy!
Evena seethed, silently condemning her captor to die a tortuously slow death. At her own hands, of course. Her face would be the last thing he saw. He’d cry out for mercy at the end, and she’d laugh. Then she’d stomp on the fingers clinging desperately to the door of the garbage hatch—just before she jettisoned him, and the rest of the refuse, into space.
She clung to that wistful dream when the needling pain began to usher sensation back into her muscles.
She wished the electro-stun had been as effective at numbing the rest of her. How dare he use her own body against herself? Well before her muscles flared back to life, every erogenous zone she possessed had awakened, screaming with awareness.
And he’d known—the bastard! The fingers that had gently twisted the tips of her breast had applied exactly the right amount of pleasure-pain. She’d been unable to hide the telltale signs of her arousal. Heat had flushed in a red-hot wave across her skin, raising goose bumps and constricting her nipples to form nerve-rich points.
When he’d lowered his body over hers to restrain her movement, his weight drew an anguish from her soul she didn’t recognize. She’d felt small and feminine. Helpless. Aroused. Unlike the person she’d made herself into. Her hard-fought independence and confidence in her ability to resist all temptation—gone in an instant of male domination. His immense size had been a blanket of hard, pulsing heat. While overwhelming to her starved senses, his weight had also been strangely comforting. Why in the galaxy did that appeal?
The scent of him had nearly driven her mad. Faint traces of soap mixed with male musk had filled her nostrils with every intake of breath.
The long ridge of his cock had made her feel powerful and weak. Moisture pooled between her thighs. Then he’d ground his cock against her crotch, and the muscles buried inside her belly had contracted, instinctually seeking to draw him deep within.
She hadn’t had a man between her thighs in five years. The first would have to be a ravaging pirate.
Being found subdued by her guard deepened her humiliation, and her cheeks burned hotter. She’d struggled too hard for their respect.
“You can let her go, now.” Mary Grogan wasn’t suggesting. Her tone demanded.
“I don’t think I will. I like this one,” Evena’s pirate replied silkily. “I may keep her for a while.”
An inarticulate gurgle rattled in the back of her throat. Sheer willpower would not return the function of her limbs. She dangled in the pirate’s arms like a boneless rag doll, and she was beginning to feel just as witless.
“What have you done to her?” Mary asked, her voice deepening with anger.
His arm shifted, circling her like a steel band, her breasts resting on his forearm. “This woman’s in no danger. She’s merely stunned. Are you next in command?”
Evena knew by the silence that Mary wore her bulldog expression. The pirate wouldn’t get his answer from her.
“God’s ballocks.” Abruptly, he turned her in his arms, fingers snaking through her hair to bring her face close to his. “Are you all this stubborn?”
Evena could only groan as another wave of pain rolled over her body.
“Darak,” the pirate barked, his gaze never leaving hers.
Footfalls sounded behind her.
“Aye, sir.”
“You’re in charge. I’ve got to get this one to a bed,” he said, a speculative gleam in his eyes.
“Ummmm.” Evena groaned, the only audible evidence of her silent scream of protest.
“Organize the men. The women who aren’t quartered must be brought into a common area. I’ll find you there.”
Evena heard a click of heels then footsteps retreating. In a movement that left her head swimming, she suddenly found herself dangling over his shoulder.
“Ladies,” the pirate addressed her guard, “you are to do precisely what my crew orders. No one will be harmed. I’ve business to conduct.”
I have a confession to make. I originally wrote Drunk on Men before I wrote hot romances. Many things in the book got overhauled, including the sensuality level. How did I do this? I listed all the love scenes, analyzed the dynamics that should be there, including conflict and emotion, and expanded them. It was almost like writing them from scratch but harder because I had to fit them in with what was already there. It was also a lot more fun than I thought. The story really came alive in ways I’d never envisioned the first time around. Usually when writing a new book, the hot scenes are intermittent. But here, I spent a few days rewriting nothing but one hot scene after the next. At the end, I needed a cold shower!
Drunk on Men by Afton Locke
1920s interracial romance ~ monthly serial ~ get addicted!
Release Date – Volume One: 1 April 2017
series page: http://www.aftonlocke.com/DOM.html
You may think it’s sloe fizz gin But honey we’re sober, just drunk on men
When three African-American women meet at a resort on the Jersey Shore in the 1920s, they say goodbye to their old lives. Finding men as intoxicating as bootleg liquor, they pin their futures on happily ever after. But love can be worse than a hangover when the men’s flaws threaten to destroy them.
Hannah knows it’s time to replace her fiancé who died in the war, but the abrupt white man who rescues her from rough surf hardly fits the bill. Belle longs to ditch her latest meal ticket, but is the rich African-European owner of an upscale hotel out of her league? And while Edie struggles to face her upcoming arranged marriage, a rugged Hispanic-white fisherman decides to stake his own claim on her.
This 8-volume serial is a heady romance cocktail stirred with addiction, abuse, betrayal, and scandal. These women aren’t perfect and neither are their men. If you think you can handle it, read on and watch three steamy interracial relationships explode across the pages.
Playlist
Hannah:
Wait Till The Sun Shines on You – Gary Puckett & the Union Gap
He sighed and made a rude gesture with his hand and chin. “What did you think, Belle? The booze simply drops out of the sky into my bar? I am performing a necessary service for the town of Ocean Promenade.”
Excitement rippled down Belle’s arms and legs. Tonight’s joyride was the most thrilling thing she’d ever done.
“How much booze does this town drink, anyway? The Sands is the only place I see that’s even wet. I have a hard time believing you could buy a car like this on that speck of business.”
“I see you are shrewd businesswoman.” He leaned between the front seats and shot her an admiring glance. “I am much impressed. Since you ask, the product also gets shipped to Washington, Philadelphia, and New York City.”
“So, what happens next?” she asked. “Where’s the booze?”
He slid his jacket sleeve upward with two fingers and glanced at his watch. “It’s coming. Please join me in the front seat where I can see you.”
“Not with the gun lying there. A girl could get her cha chas blown off with a thing like that. Besides, how do I know you’re not planning to bump me off for knowing too much?”
“You are too beautiful to kill,” he crooned as he moved the monstrous weapon to rest against his door. “However, you have become heavily involved. I wanted to protect you from this.”
“It’s okay,” she said, shrugging as she scrambled to the front passenger seat. “I’m a big girl. I’ll survive.”
He reached over and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. Adrenaline flooded her body. Without thinking, she smacked him across the face.
He reared back in his seat. “What was that for?”
“Don’t manhandle me,” she said coldly. “I don’t care for it.”
She hadn’t pegged him as abusive, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. Especially in this abandoned place. She’d do a lot for money, but she refused to tolerate violence.
Please tell me you’re not one of them, Raoul. I don’t want to have to give you up.
“Bella, please. You shocked me, and I think you broke my jaw.” He stuck out his bottom lip like a little boy and dazzled her with another smile.
She couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, you’re all wet. I did not.”
“I’m only trying to make you understand something.” He leaned closer but without touching her this time. “You will see things and people who don’t want to be recognized. If you do not keep your pretty kisser shut, you could endanger your life and mine.”
Belle took a shaky breath. “Understood.”
“And it means you are my lady. You cannot walk away from me. Not after tonight.”
As if she wanted to. They sat in silence for a moment. He caressed her hand and then the thigh it lay on through the thin hem of her dress, making her breath draw in with a hiss.
“I want to show you my hotel room soon,” he said, lazily stroking. “I have a circular tub with flowing water. It is like the ocean, yes?”
“Sounds divine,” she whispered.
“We don’t have much time, and I need you to show me your loyalty.”
Loyalty?
Belle watched, fascinated, as he reclined his seat until it lay almost horizontal.
His voice dropped very low. Very soft. “Come here, Bella.”
Coming Soon
Turning the Tide: A Siren’s Revenge – Wiccan Haus series – Decadent Publishing – paranormal
On my iPod, I have a playlist called “Happy Songs”. If I want to kick my ass into gear, especially in the mornings when I’d really rather sleep in, I click on the playlist, and before long I’m tapping a toe, then “mattress-dancing”—and then, there’s no goin’ back to sleep. I’m up and smiling.
Only problem is, my happy list is pretty darn short. I’d love your suggestions for more songs to add! And because I’m serious, I’ll give away a small Amazon Gift Card to one lucky, happy-suggester!
Just comment for a chance to win!
Here’s one song already on my “Happy Songs” playlist!
Staci Troilo has always loved fiction, ever since her parents read her fairy tales when she was a young girl. Today, her interests are much more eclectic. She loves getting lost in sci-fi battles, fantasy realms, horror worlds, suspenseful intrigues, and romantic entanglements.
