Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Mary had a Little Problem by Destiny Blaine

Mary Worthington is a widow, or at least, she should’ve been. A former Navy Seals wife, her husband is killed in combat and Mary has a difficult time accepting the fact her husband isn’t coming home. Without a body to bury or witnesses to tell her what happened, there’s no way Mary can put the past to sleep until someone provides her with the truth about her husband’s final hours.

Trying to step out and socialize once again while pursuing facts about her husband’s death, Mary is introduced to Brock Taylor, a hard-core ladies man dedicated to the Marines and sharing himself with any woman who wants a piece of one. That is, until he meets Mary, a woman he’s known about through a past acquaintance.

Mary and Brock fall in love, plan a wedding in the Great Smoky Mountains, and well, things could’ve been headed toward a happy ending. However, six months after Brock finally wins Mary’s hand, Mary’s deceased husband reappears. And Mary wonders if she’ll be forced to give up one man in exchange for the other.

The following excerpt is suitable for all audiences:

Mourning the death of her husband began at the sound of the first shots fired. For some reason, up until then, Mary kept thinking she’d awaken and discover she’d been having another nightmare. Instead, reality set in and delivered its final blow. The ceremony in progress jolted her back to the present with a new understanding.

She was attending her husband’s memorial. Luke was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

Mary had somehow remained stoic throughout the service, fearing if she looked up, turned to her left, or glanced right, she might meet a stranger’s gaze. She refused to lock eyes with those in attendance, realizing their hearts were full of pity.

Many of them knew Luke. Some of them had fought beside him. Others were there to pay their respects to a fallen soldier, but they didn’t know the man behind the uniform, the husband behind the Navy’s finest SEAL.

There was another powerful blast, and the jarring sensation came with a deafening and most eerie sound of a three-round volley. The air was thick with tension. Those in attendance jerked with every shot resounding through the hills.

Mary’s tears finally came, flooding her cheeks until the rapid falls ran dry. It was then when Mary understood a truer meaning of taps.

This was the end, the most monumental signal of all. It was time to turn out the lights and go home. The final seconds in the last hour approached. Now, she was expected to accept the fact that her happily-ever-after ending wasn’t meant to be. Mary needed to find a way to come to terms with the facts.

Her husband was dead. She couldn’t bring him back.

Lieutenant Lucas Worthington once spoke of a soldier’s death, an honorable death, the kind of burial all soldiers hoped they’d find. If Mary had been given one last chance to talk with Luke, she would’ve told him that this death wasn’t a clean death, as he’d once discussed. This casualty, no one understood.

Luke should’ve been careful what he wished for, and Mary should’ve selected a husband more wisely, refused to fall in love with a man destined to die. Mary gave her heart to a Navy SEAL. He, in turn, fell in love with the notion that freedom was won, honor easily earned, and death only came to those who were fighting for the wrong side.

Mary wished for one last opportunity to tell Luke her point of view on the subject now, perhaps show him the error of his ways, and explain devastation in simple woman’s terms.

At that moment, she wanted her husband to know how she felt. She longed to explain her agony. But it was too late for that, and she wasn’t sure she could put her sorrow into words.

Still, Mary longed to see Luke one last time. She would’ve given her final breath if she could’ve held something substantial in her arms, perhaps something to show her, help her grasp the idea that the love she’d cherished was lost. The man she’d worshipped was gone, and his funeral was anything but a bad dream.

Her life had turned into a nightmare. Without a body to bury, Mary had a feeling she’d never awaken from the hellish world that had somehow become her horrific reality.

The following excerpt is rated PG17

“The next time you try and set me up with some hardcore, sexy-as-all-fucking-hell military prick, I swear to God, I’m gonna—”

“Anna told me how to get here,” Brock interrupted her rant as soon as the door was pushed all the way back.

“Fuck my life,” Mary muttered, thinking she’d never seen a hotter man than the one in front of her. Even Luke would have a difficult time measuring up to Brock, and that was saying a lot.

Stop it right now, she thought. She didn’t have the right to gawk at this stranger like he was a packaged adult delivery for an overnight stay. “This is not happening to me.”

Brock winked, a devilish grin marking a permanent place on his face. “Prick? Really? Is that the best you can do?”

She released a troubled sigh. Apparently, he missed the compliment laced through that warm greeting.

“Why are you here?”

She saw the attitude coming from a mile away. “I was afraid someone might try to set you up with some hardcore, sexy-as-all-fucking-hell military prick. I’m here to save you.”

“From myself?” she asked, meaning she needed all the help she could get since she had the open-mouth-insert-foot concept down to a perfected science.

“Should I take that to mean you’re interested?”

“What do you want?” she asked, ignoring his underlying insinuations.

“An invitation inside would be a nice start.”


“Maybe because it’s the polite thing to do, especially after you spoke so passionately about me.”

“The last time a soldier stood in my doorway, he brought bad news with him. Would you invite that into your home, Mr. Taylor?”

“Depends on what you consider bad news, Mary. And please, call me Brock. We’ll do better in the end if we start out with first names.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think you could stand my answer?”

Mary propped her hands on her hips. “Depends. Think you can handle rejection?”

Ash Swan by Amber Kell and Stephani Hecht

When Prince Landon Cob sees Brian Dawson, he's not sure what to make of the bicycle courier with a pierced nose and green streaks in his hair, but the man's gentleness in feeding the water fowl strikes a chord with him. In this story of Swan Prince meets Cinderfella, two men from different backgrounds have to find a way to counter magic and divergent lifestyles to find their happy ending.

The buy link is here

Excerpt: (note: they have a different excerpt at resplendence so you can read that one too :)

"Yes, governor, everything is set. I sent the poster design to your assistant, Sara. She said she'd show them to you when you got back to your office. You're welcome, sir."

Landon Cob barely resisted the urge to throw his phone into the lake. Generally, Landon liked the governor but ever since the governor's wife had decided to attend the annual Governor's Ball instead of going on a scheduled business trip, it was like they were planning for a visit from the queen, and Landon knew all about queenly visits.

Luckily, it was almost time to leave this world, head back to his kingdom and accept the mantle of the crown. In a time-honored princely tradition, Landon had set off to explore the world before taking the reins of power. The only difference was, Landon had found his ancestor's diary and traveled to a completely different world along with two of his brothers. Here,they could be normal people instead of well-known princes. With his three younger brothers and sister in charge on Aria, Landon was enjoying his time as an independent person, drawing upon his creative side to work as a graphic artist. Not the most glamorous job in this world but highly enjoyable. Or it had been until high-strung politicians had become involved.

Fortunately,he knew all about dealing with politicians. As the governor blathered on,Landon enjoyed the fine spring day. A soft breeze played with Landon's hair as the smell of blooming flowers filled the air. Glancing around, he noticed a lot of people were outside eating lunch, taking in the sunshine.

A slim man by the lake caught his eye. Dressed in tight,stretchy bicycle gear, he was feeding pieces of bread to the birds from a plastic bag. Green dye boldly streaked through his blond hair and, as Landon watched, the sun sparkled off a diamond stud embedded in the man's nose. The prince was completely and utterly charmed.

It wasn't the man's appearance that kept Landon's attention; it was the way he fed the waterfowl. As the birds weren't shy about approaching the man, Landon suspected this wasn't the first time the man had fed the animals. He meticulously made sure no bird got more than any other by feeding them one by one. If any of the previously fed birds stepped forward, he ignored it and fed its neighbor. It was a ridiculously careful process. Landon smiled.

"Landon, are you paying attention?"

"Of course, sir." Landon's eyes and mind stayed on the cute bicyclist.

As the governor droned on, Landon watched the birds' antics.One particularly aggressive goose kept pushing aside the smaller ducks. Landon laughed when the stranger scooted it back carefully with his foot. However,when he turned around to feed another duck, the goose bit him on the ass.Startled, the bicyclist lost his balance and tumbled into the water.

"Oh shit!"

"What?" the governor asked.

"I'll have to call you back."

Not waiting for an answer, Landon disconnected his call and ran over to the lake. The now soaked bicyclist was trying to get to his feet but the mud kept sucking him back in.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Air Demon by Stormy Glenn

Air Demon (MM)
Elemental Demons 2

Air Demon (MM)
By: Stormy Glenn | Other books by Stormy Glenn
Categories: Erotic Romance, Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Fantasy
Word Count: 36,222
Published By: Siren-Bookstrand, Inc.


AVAILABLE: Saturday, September 3rd

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Fantasy Romance, M/M, demons]

Nicholas Dane is happy that his friend Gabe has found the love of his life, even if he can never return to the surface world. The same cannot be said for Nick. He knows who his demon mate is, but Storym won't give him the time of day.

Storym knows the surface dweller, Nick, is his Demonas Amaté. But he also knows that claiming the man would place Nick's life in danger, and Storym can't allow that. He has a hard enough time dealing with Nick's need to save the world. He doesn't need to bring more danger to the man.

Afraid that he won't be able to deny himself if he stays, Storym leaves without saying goodbye to Nick. His heart broken, Nick returns to the surface world to lose himself in his work as a police detective. Unfortunately, the shadow demons seem to know who he is, and they start coming after him. Nick's only chance is to return to Jinnistan. But even there, his life is in danger because someone has their sights on Nick, and they will let nothing interfere in their plans, not even an Air Demon bent on claiming his mate.


"Hey, Storym."

Storym didn't even look up, just nodded his head. He had heard the human coming before he even reached the library. A nod was all he could manage without attacking the surface dweller. Looking at Nick would have been nearly impossible.

"Whatcha doin'?"


Storym knew his response was tight-lipped and stern. He couldn't help it. He was barely holding onto his control as it was. The more time he spent around Nick, the less control he had. Why couldn't Nick just leave him be?

Or better yet, return to the surface world where he belonged? Nick had no business being in Jinnistan. Storym didn't care that Nick was supposed to be one of the chosen ones. Every second spent in Jinnistan put Nick's life in danger. Storym couldn't figure out why everyone else didn't understand that. It was clear as day to him.

"Oh," Nick said simply. "Whatcha working on?"

Storym rolled his eyes when Nick strolled over to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This is important."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No!" Storym barked out. He instantly regretted his sharply spoken words when Nick winced and jumped back. The thought of being cooped up in the same room with Nick for hours on end made Storym's skin itch.

He wouldn't be able to hold onto his control if he was anywhere near Nick for a prolonged period of time. The mere sight of the man was enough to make him grit his teeth and run in the other direction.

"I'm sorry," Nick said as he turned away. "I'll just leave you alone then."


"Why don't you like me?" Nick asked as he spun around to stare intently at Storym. "Have I done something to offend you in some way?"

"No, of course not, but—"

"Did I break a rule or something?"

"No, but—"

"Is it because I'm supposed to be a chosen one? Is that why you don't like me?"

"You know the chosen ones are revered by my people," Storym said quickly. "Your place in this world is well established. You can—"

"Then why do you keep avoiding me like I have the plague?" Nick's head tilted to one side. His forehead wrinkled as if he was in deep thought.

Storym held his breath as he waited for Nick to say something more. He was a little shocked when Nick just shook his head and started to walk away again. "It's not that I don't like you, I just—"

Nick paused at the doorway, but he didn't turn. "It's okay, Storym." Nick's smile was a little sad as he turned around. His pale blue eyes seemed even paler than usual. "Despite me being some proclaimed chosen one, nothing says that you have to like me. I won't bother you again."

Nick walked out of the room before Storym could reply. Storym sighed and leaned back in his chair. He so didn't need this shit. He was supposed to be going through the ancient scrolls to see if Clagh had missed anything.

He wasn't supposed to be worrying about the surface dweller, but he hadn't been able to get Nick out of his head since he first saw the man. The man intrigued him. Hell, the man made him want to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.

Nicholas Patrick Dane was everything a Demonas Amaté should be, and he was Storym's. Storym just couldn't claim him. He had no intention of bonding himself to a surface dweller. In Storym's book, that made Nick totally off limits—no matter how much Storym craved the man.


Storym stood in front of Nick's door. He couldn't decide whether to knock or just walk in. He knew Nick had survived his fall. He had hounded Gabe for every tidbit of information. Nick was still sore and bruised, but there was no lasting damage. That knowledge was the only thing that really kept Storym going.

The need to see for himself if Nick was okay was overwhelming. Storym felt his stomach clench as he raised his hand and knocked on the door. The urge to see Nick warred with Storym's need to run in the opposite direction.

Nick was dangerous to his state of mind. He couldn't think when Nick was around. Hell, he couldn't think when Nick wasn't around. If this was what it felt like to know who his mate was, Storym wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Come in."

Storym drew in a deep breath and opened the door. He had purposely picked a time late at night to come see Nick so there wouldn't be a big audience. He just hadn't expected Nick to be totally alone.

"Shouldn't you have someone sitting with you?" Storym asked as he shut the door behind him. "And shouldn't you be in bed?"

Nick chuckled. "I'm fine. I sent Gabe to bed. He was hovering."

Storym drank in Nick's appearance as the man walked out of the shadows by the window and into the more lit up area of the room. There was still some bruising around his eyes, but it looked to be fading.

"How are you?"

"I'm good."

Nick smiled, but Storym could see that it was strained. Storym instantly knew the man was in pain. He rushed over and swung Nick up into his arms. He ignored the man's protests as he laid him down on the bed. When Nick tried to sit up, Storym pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back down.


Nick rolled his eyes.

"How badly were you hurt?"

Storym knew, but he wanted to hear it from Nick's lips. Hell, he just wanted to hear Nick talk. He loved the man's soothing voice and unusual speech. No one he had ever met talked like Nick, not even Gabe.

"I just had a concussion and some bruised muscles. It's nothing to worry about."

"You were bleeding, Demonas Amaté," Storym growled. "I'd think it something to worry about."

"Head wounds bleed, Storym."

"Yes, your friend Gabriele said the very same thing." Storym's hands clenched. "I still do not like it."

"Ah, Storym." Nick's grin was mischievous and made Storym's blood start to boil. "I didn't know you cared."

Storym frowned. "I care."

Nick suddenly looked a little less playful and a lot more nervous as he licked his lips and glanced away. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine. There's nothing for you to worry about. Thank you for stopping by."

Storym had the distinct feeling he was being dismissed. That, if nothing else, made him growl. He didn't like being dismissed, especially by a surface dweller and certainly not by his Demonas Amaté.

"I do not appreciate being dismissed, Demonas Amaté."

Nick blinked for a moment then tossed his head back as he roared with laughter. Storym found nothing in their discussion to bring such amusement to Nick's face. He reached down and grabbed Nick's arms then shook him.

"Demonas Amaté!"

Nick stopped laughing almost instantly as he glared up at Storym. "Fuck you, Storym."

Storym's teeth almost snapped with how hard he gritted them. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to him so disrespectfully and not had their heads handed to them. He tried to remember that Nick was human and didn't understand things like honor and respect. He tried to remember that he was just a simple surface dweller.

Storym growled when that didn't work, and his mind slipped over the edge into deep, red rage. He jerked Nick's body to him and claimed the man's lips in a punishing kiss. It was either that or strangle Nick.

But what started out as a punishment quickly turned into something more intense, as the feeling of Nick's lips pressed against his started to sink into Storym. Gods, had anyone ever had such soft lips?

Storym growled and pressed in further. He stroked his tongue along the seam of Nick's mouth, demanding entrance. When Nick shuddered and opened his mouth, Storym delved inside to conquer and explore.

He imagined kissing Nick was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get. It was hot and passionate and made Storym's cock throb in ways it never had before. When Nick's hands gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, Storym knew he was a goner.

Storym grabbed the front of his shirt and ripped it open. Nick's hands immediately touched his skin, caressing him. Storym needed the same access. He needed to feel Nick's silky skin beneath him. He tried to keep his mouth attached to Nick's as he ripped the man's shirt off.

When that became too complicated, Storym pulled away and ripped the shirt from Nick's body. He could see Nick's chest rising and falling rapidly with his heavy pants. He could see the arousal burning in his blue eyes.

Storym scooted to the end of the bed and yanked Nick's pants down his legs. The sight of Nick spread out naked on the bed took his breath away. Storym had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life, and he had seen a lot.

"Get yourself ready, Demonas Amaté," Storym growled. "You have until I get my clothes off before I fuck you."

Nick's eyes widened for a moment before he scrambled to the side of the bed and reached into the drawer for a blue bottle—the same blue as Nick's eyes. Nick lay back on the pillows and poured some of the oil into his hand.

Storym was in the process of shucking his pants when Nick pressed two fingers deep into his ass. Storym paused as every bit of air in his lungs seized. Nick was thrusting his fingers in and out of his ass and stroking his cock at the same time. The bliss on the man's face made Storym growl. He wanted to be the one to put that look on Nick's face.

Storym quickly kicked his pants away then dropped the remains of his shirt to the floor. He climbed up on the bed and slowly crawled forward until he was between Nick's legs. Storym knelt between Nick's thighs and pushed the man's hands away.

"You know nothing of being fucked by an air demon." Storym grinned as he grabbed Nick's hips and pulled the man's bottom end up onto his lap. "You will learn, my sweet."

A Siren Erotic Romance

Now Available!

Elemental Demons

Fire Demon Air Demon (MM)

Air Demon (MM)

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, HTML, Mobipocket, EPUB

Price: $5.50

Monday, August 22, 2011

DOWN and DIRTY by G.A.Hauser

Down and Dirty

Down and Dirty

By: G.A. Hauser | Other books by G.A. Hauser
Published By: The GA Hauser Collection LLC
ISBN # 9781463510732
Word Count: 64657
Heat Index
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Reader, Mobipocket (.prc), Mobipocket (.mobi), Epub
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About the book

UCLA art history professor Jean DuLac enjoyed his life. He was happy with his career and traveling the world searching for masterpieces to photograph first hand for his students.
When Jean decides to use one of his own art designs for a tattoo, he meets tattoo shop owner, Harry Callahan. Jean finds out the shop is called, Down and Dirty Harry's Tattoos for a reason.
Harry Callahan loves his work. His reputation for being the best tattoo artist in LA is well earned. Harry and his older brother 'Clyde' have a lot in common. Clyde is an erotic dancer by night, firefighter by day, but he and Clyde share the same taste in well as the men themselves.
The night Jean decides to get his skin inked, he meets Harry and can't help but be smitten with a man as big, brawny, and handsome as 'Dirty' Harry. Jean has no idea the dark delights he is in for Friday night after class.
What Jean discovers is how intense being the object of two men's desires can be and how pleasure with the Callahan brothers, means getting Down and Dirty.

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Now Available from the GA Hauser Collection, LLC
Mr. Right

Friday, August 19, 2011

Soldier Mine by Amber Kell

When Kreslan is attacked in the cargo hold he bonds with a shapeshifting beast who turns out to be the reincarnated leader of an entire planet. Will Kreslan be willing to give up an ordinary man to partner with an extraordinary creature who just happens to hold Kres' heart in his possessive claws.

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"Grab him."

Barley's goons each took one of Kres's arms and slammed him against the Thresl's cage.

Kres wasn't the type to go down without a fight. Using the goons as leverage, he jumped up and kicked Barley in the face. A satisfying crunch echoed in the hold.

"You bastard. I'm gonna kill you now."

Blood poured down Barley's face as he pulled back his arm. He slammed down his fist intent on doing as much damage as possible, but Kres dodged and Barley's hand hit the metal bars of the cage. Barley screamed with pain as his fingers slammed into the iron bars.

"I said hold him!" Barley shouted.

The goons pinned Kres tighter against the Thresl's cage. He knew this time there was no getting out of it.

Bracing his body to take Barley's punch, Kres was unprepared for the door at his back to swing inward. Two clawed hands slashed out, swiping long bloody trails across both of the men holding Kres. Blood splashed out of their wounds as they howled.

Barley's eyes rolled in panic. With a low animalistic roar, the Thresl picked Kres up and lifted him high off the ground. This was it, his last few seconds of life.

Yet, despite Kres's dire predictions, the huge beast set him gently to one side before he leaped at Barley. With vicious precision, the creature lacerated Barley's face with his claws until he was a mass of blood and bones and his flesh flapped loosely along his jaw.

Kres raced past the screaming men to reach the intercom. Pressing the button, he shouted into the receiver. "Emergency on the cargo deck. Emergency."

A high-pitched yell pierced the air as Barley fell beneath the Thresl's wrath.

"Shit. No. Don't kill him," Kres commanded.

To his surprise the creature froze. Leaning over Barley, he bared his fangs. Long and curved, they were five inches long and dripped saliva.

Barley let out a whimper as his men cowered in the corner as far from the Thresl as they could get. The creature blocked their escape route, and neither of them were in any condition to battle a Thresl.

Before Kres could think of what to do, a squad of soldiers rushed onto the cargo deck. Weapons raised, they surrounded the Thresl.

"Don't shoot him," Kres shouted. "He was protecting me."

Instinct had Kres stepping up to the creature. "Come on. See, I'm not hurt. You stopped the bad men in time."

The loud snarling dimmed to a low growl.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Carte Blanche Grey's Lady by Natasha Blackthorne

Blurb: Book one in the Carte Blanche Series


Seeking sexual excitement and conquest, poor but beautiful Beth seduces wealthy merchant prince Grey Sexton, only to find herself the pursued as he seeks to own her body and soul.

Flouting the moral standards of Jeffersonian America, temptress Beth McConnell lets no man touch her heart. Her motto is love them once and leave them burning.
But when she boldly seduces Grey Sexton, a self-controlled merchant prince from New York, she finds herself too fascinated by his ice-over-fire nature to stay away. His possessive determination to own her, body and soul, threatens to expose her secret erotic life to public shame.
But Beth will only surrender her love to a man she can trust. And Grey's materialistic approach to relationships leaves her little reason to believe he can ever give her what she truly needs.
For these two cynical yet lonely people, can deep sexual intimacy work a miracle and lead to the opening of their hearts?


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Finding Eden by Kele Moon

Finding Eden
By: Kele Moon

COMING SOON - August 19

Book two in the Eden series.

Handsome, angry and spoiled, Danny Carlow struggles to find his place in the world when his hatred for authority makes survival difficult. The only thing that keeps him from completely giving up and turning to a life of crime is his friendship with clean-cut Paul Mattling. More than his conscience and his best friend, Paul’s also the one Danny secretly pines for with every ounce of his being.

Paul is a natural over-achiever with a football scholarship and straight As to boast about. Yet Paul is haunted by an abusive childhood that’s left him more scarred than anyone realizes. Looking for an escape from his demons, Paul has his own deviant secrets, ones he doesn’t want anyone, especially Danny, to know about.

When dark desires are accidentally revealed Danny and Paul end up coming together in a clash of wild passion more tumultuous than either of them could have anticipated. Tasting the forbidden is sweet, but it turns the tables on their relationship, putting everything, even their lifelong friendship, in jeopardy.

Reader Advisory: This story visits the dark side of BDSM, where the only thing more intense than the scenes the characters participate in, is the love they have for one another. Please note there is a very brief F/F encounter.
A Romantica® erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

LInk to Except:

Link to website:

Monday, August 8, 2011

White Paws and a Dream by Stormy Glenn

White Paws and a Dream

Midnight Matings

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, shape-shifters]

The Gathering is called. The spell is cast. There is no escaping the Midnight Matings.

When Ifan Vashnikov is summoned to the Great Gathering and learns of the plan set up by UPAC, he decides he'd rather go feral than be forced to take a mate. Before he can voice his decision to the elders, he finds himself mated.

But his mating is not the usual mating. For one, he didn't drink the spiked champagne like everyone else, so he isn't in heat. Two, his mate is being protected for his own safety. Misha is a dreamwalker, the most powerful dreamwalker in over a thousand years. Because of that, he is being hunted. People want to use his powers for evil.

Misha just wants to settle down somewhere quiet with his dream mate. When he's rescued and taken to the UPAC headquarters, he finally meets the man he has been sharing dreams with for over a year-the man he fell in love with-but Ifan doesn't seem to know him. When danger comes, Misha doesn't know whether to turn to Ifan or run for his life.
Story Excerpt

He headed for the front doors. Only his quick reflexes kept him from being part of the chaos going on around him. He was getting more fed up with each passing moment. When a sudden blaring pain shot through his back, Ifan breathed deeply and turned to stare at a man holding the remains of a chair in his hand.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he shouted as he wrenched the chair away from the man and tossed it across the room. He distantly heard it crash into the wall. "I am not going to mate you."

He didn't want a mate. He didn't want anyone messing with his life. He liked living alone. He didn't want someone coming in and messing with the quiet existence he had created for himself.

"The elders gave us twenty four hours to find a mate or go feral," the man snickered. "It doesn't look to me like you have a choice."

"There are always choices."

The man's mouth dropped open. "You'd rather die than find a mate?"

"I don't want a mate," Ifan growled.

"Who does?" The man laughed. "I was having way too much fun playing without one but going feral doesn't sound like much of a choice."

Ifan shrugged. If he went feral, he went feral. He wasn't going to be forced into mating anyone, no matter what the elders wanted. "It's not going to happen, so go find someone else to play with."

The man smirked. "Your loss, big boy. I could rock your world."

"And I could end yours."

The man shrugged until someone else caught his interest and then he was running across the room. Ifan clenched his jaw. Some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed. Ifan turned and headed for the doors again. The quicker he got out of here, the quicker he could go feral and hopefully be put out of his misery.

Maybe he had lived on his own too long but he didn't like people as a general rule. Humans were too bent on destroying paranormals and paranormals were too bent on destroying each other. It was a vicious circle Ifan wanted no part of.

He just wanted to go back to his little cottage in the woods and be left alone, and he didn't want to bring anyone with him. At this point, going feral was looking pretty damn good. At least it might put him out of his long misery.

Ifan stepped out ballroom doors and headed down the long stone hallway toward the exit. He rounded a corner just in time to see a ball of fire shooting out from some man's fingers hit a guard in the chest, crumpling him to the floor. The other guard advanced, and a blond haired man swung out, connecting solidly with his jaw and sending the man to the ground next to the first guard.

Ifan quickly decided this was not the place to be. He avoided fights whenever he could help it. Fighting just seemed to be a worthless pursuit. Someone always got hurt, and sometimes killed. Ifan didn't want to be responsible for that.

It was yet another reason he didn't want a mate. Siberian tigers were very territorial, especially white Siberian tigers. That was one of the reasons he chose to live alone, that, and the fact that most of his breed were extinct. Apparently, his white fur coat was highly prized by hunters.

Ifan's eyes widened when one of the men suddenly ran for the door. The next thing he knew, the little man was flung backward, rolling ass over end until he sprawled on the ground at the blond man's feet.

Nope, he didn't want any part of this. Ifan turned and went back down the hallway. There had to be another way out of this damn castle. Ifan glanced into the ballroom as he passed it. The chaos seemed to have calmed to a dull roar and the elders were returning, walking up onto the stage.

Ifan paused. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Dying wasn't that scary to Ifan. Going feral and being put down wasn't even that scary. Having a mate terrified him. Maybe he could just skip through to the ending without all of the hassle?

Ifan drew in a deep breath, contemplating his next move. He could feel his tiger right under his skin, pacing, agitated. He felt the need to extend his claws, to shift and chase something down.

Ifan was an old shifter, nearing two thousand years. He'd been alone for the last two hundred of those years. Not since he was a young cub had he not been able to control his tiger but the hot burning itch that was starting to crawl across his skin was clawing at his control.

Suddenly decided, Ifan crossed the ballroom floor and headed right for the elder dais. They could end him now and forgo all of the rest if this crazy scheme of theirs. He wasn't going to take a mate.

Ifan reached the dais and clasped his hands together, giving the elders a respectful bow. No matter how fucked up he thought their plan was, he refused to give on his personal values, one of which was being respectful to the United Paranormal Alliance of Cooperation, or UPAC, as most paranormals called them.

"Elders, please forgive my intrusion."

"Ifan Vashnikov," one elder said. Ifan recognized him as Elder Lucas, the elder of the Felid Clan. "I did not expect to see you at this year's gathering. My understanding was that you never leave your forest."

"I was sent an invitation."

"Good, good." Elder Lucas smiled. The elder glanced at the space around Ifan, an eyebrow raised. "Have you come to have your mating recorded?"

"I am sorry to say I have been unable to find a suitable mate." Ifan wished he could roll his eyes at the council of elders and let them really know what he thought of their grand plan. Again, his sense of honor raised its ugly head. "As such, I am requesting that-"

"No mate?" Elder Lucas said. "A man of your stature? I'm surprised, Ifan."

Ifan frowned. There were times in his life when something significant occurred. It was always preluded by a cold shiver down his spine. Ifan was feeling such a shiver right that instant. The elders had something up their sleeve and it involved him.

Ifan started to get an itchy feel at the back of his neck as he watched Elder Lucas lean over and whisper into the ear of the elder sitting next to him. He had missed enough great gatherings to not know all of the elders. Many had come and gone over the years.

Elder Lucas was smiling as he sat forward. The elder next to him began to write in some large book. Ifan clenched his jaw. He wasn't going to like this. He just knew it. Ifan braced himself.

"Ifan Vashnikov, your mating has been recorded."

Adult Excerpt

Misha started panting softly but he still didn't make a sound. His eyes, however, glowed. Ifan could see Misha's need shinning in the pale blue depths. The more he touched and teased, the more blue bled out of Misha's eyes. It was fascinating to watch.

"Watch me, Misha."

Ifan wanted Misha's eyes on him. He wanted to continue to see the desire burning in them as he pleasured the man. Keeping their eyes locked together, Ifan moved down Misha's body, planting a kiss here and there, a lick of his tongue. By the time he reached Misha's cock, the man's eyes had turned white.

Ifan grabbed Misha's ass cheeks and spread them apart. He suddenly found it difficult to swallow when he got a good look at the sweet pink hole waiting for him. Misha looked so tight that Ifan began to wonder if the man had ever been breached before. Maybe he would be the first to bring pleasure to the sweet little man.

Ifan let his tongue shift, going from human to the long, sandpapery one of a Siberian tiger. Being as old as he was, Ifan was able to change different parts of his body at will. He didn't have to fully shift.

Ifan dragged his tongue between Misha's ass cheeks. A tangy burst of earthy flavors blasted across his tongue. Ifan growled and did it again, wanting more. As addictive as Misha tasted, Ifan saw a lot of ass licking in his future.

He knew Misha liked it. The little man's body arched into the air and his hands grabbed large handfuls of Ifan's hair. Ifan licked again and again, pressing in with his tongue a little each time until Misha began to loosen up.

Ifan paused for a moment and stroked his thumb over Misha's puckered entrance. He bit his lip to keep from growling when it was sucked right in. Misha was going to be the death of him. He just knew it. Misha's body was made for sex.

Ifan began licking again, alternating between pressing his tongue into Misha's ass and pushing his thumb in. After a few minutes, he moved to pressing his fingers into the tight circle of muscles.

Once he could safely get three fingers inside without hurting Misha, Ifan scooted up just a bit. Misha's cock looked almost painful in its hardness. Drops of pre-cum glistened on the purple mushroom shaped head.

Misha wasn't huge, not by Ifan's standards, but he was the perfect size to be sucked, and that's just what Ifan did. As he shoved three fingers deep into Misha's ass, he swallowed Misha's cock down to the root.

He winced when Misha almost ripped out a handful of his hair. The man's body started bucking against him, vibrating with need. Misha may have been silent but he had a spectacular way of speaking. Ifan wanted to hear more.

He licked Misha's cock like an ice cream cone, making sure he swiped his tongue over the man's ball sac. When Misha started pulling more insistently on his hair, Ifan sucked the man's entire cock into his mouth.

Misha arched and stiffened. Ifan quickly backed up until just the head of Misha's cock remained in his mouth. He thrust his fingers into the man's ass and curved them until he felt the walnut sized gland in the man's ass.

Stroking that sweet spot was like setting off a stick of dynamite. Ifan grunted as Misha's legs came up and clamped around him. Sweet hot liquid filled his mouth. Misha bucked against fan several times then went limp. His hands dropped down to the bed. Even his legs fell to his sides.

Ifan glanced up, concern warring with his need to keep sucking Misha's cock. Despite Misha's sated state, his eyes still watched Ifan intently. Ifan groaned and pulled his fingers out of Misha's ass. He scooted up and knelt between the man's legs and reached for the bottle of lotion on the nightstand.

Ifan quickly spread the lotion on his aching cock then dribbled some down between Misha's ass cheeks. He dropped the bottle on the bed and reached for Misha, grabbing the man by his hips and pulling him up until the head of his cock pressed against Misha's puckered hole.

"You ready, Misha?" he asked as he looked up.

Misha simply stroked his fingers over the mating seal on Ifan's arm. Ifan took that as a yes and pushed forward. His eyes dropped closed and his head fell back on his shoulders as he sank into the tightest, hottest ass he had ever had.

"Fuck!" Ifan shouted as his balls brushed up against Misha's body.

Never, in his entire existence, had he felt such pleasure before. The tight muscles surrounding his cock could make him to come without a single movement on his part. They seemed to grip him, massage him, and keep him hostage inside Misha's body.

Misha's legs wrapped around Ifan's waist and he tugged on his arms. Ifan grinned and took that as Misha's silent demand to move. Going slow just wasn't possible, not as close as Ifan was to coming.

The pleasure was pure and explosive. Each thrust sent Ifan higher. After a few moments, he didn't know where he ended and Misha began. It felt like they were made to be fit together, two molded halves of the same whole.

Misha's body cradled Ifan perfectly, giving him just enough room to move. The man's legs locked around Ifan's waist, his hips moving and lifting with each thrust. Ecstasy started throbbing through Ifan. He could feel the head of his cock expanding, ready to explode inside of Misha and claim the man as his.

Misha's eyes glowed with an inner light as he tilted his head back and exposed his throat. Ifan growled loudly and sank his teeth into Misha's neck just over the soft pulse beating rapidly in the soft curve. Sweet hot blood filled Ifan's mouth, the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Ifan sucked more into his mouth.

A blinding white light enveloped Ifan, exploding in his head. He felt a tether snap into place between him and Misha as their souls entwined. Ifan was filled with an amazing sense of completeness, something he had never really felt before.


Sunday, August 7, 2011

The Hunger by Gabrielle Evans

The Hunger

[LoveXtreme Forever ManLove: Erotic Fantasy Ménage Romance, M/M/M/M/M/M/M/M, demons, BDSM, spanking, sex toys]

It’s not that Onyx feels sorry for himself. He just doesn’t know where he fits into their unconventional relationship. Everyone has someone who complements them—everyone except him. He’d hoped Echo would be his saving grace, but he’ll have to reveal more of himself than he’s ready to if he hopes to win his mate’s trust.

Every day Echo watches Onyx struggle, and it breaks his heart. He wants to be everything the warrior needs, but when he discovers Onyx’s secret, it won’t be easy to overcome his fears and place himself at the demon’s mercy. If he hopes to fully commit to his men, though, it’s time to let go of the past.

When the new moon brings with it their fiercest enemy yet, Onyx isn’t worried. His love for Echo far outweighs his fear. Echo is his miracle, and he’d do anything to protect his mate. Anything.

Release date is Saturday, August 13th available for pre-order at

Story Excerpt
Onyx stepped into the living room from the kitchen just as Syx and Myst entered from the hallway. “Hey, have you guys seen Jet or Pax?”

Myst and Syx shared a look that Onyx couldn’t decipher, but it didn’t look good. “Uh, when’s the last time you saw them?” Myst asked. Onyx could tell he was trying for nonchalant, but he didn’t quite pull it off.

“The night of the new moon. We came home, they went to their rooms, and I don’t think I’ve seen them since. I thought they might be hiding out because they were ashamed of what happened. By the looks on your faces, I’d say that’s not the case.”

“We were just coming to find them,” Syx admitted. He pulled at his blond hair and sighed. “This is bad.”

“You think they left?” Onyx ground his teeth together to keep from growling. “How could they just slip out without any of us knowing about it?”

“It’s not like we exactly keep tabs on them like we do Echo,” Myst answered indignantly.

“Keep tabs on who?” Fiero strolled into the room, shoving a chocolate cupcake into his mouth. “Wha’ goin’ on?”

Without looking Fiero’s way, Onyx reached out and smacked the warrior in the back of the head. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Fiero opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out to show off the gooey glob in his mouth. Then he shut his lips and swallowed before smiling roguishly at Onyx. “Yes, Mother.”

Onyx cuffed him in the back of the head again. “Have you seen the shifters?”

Shrugging, Fiero sauntered over to the sofa and plopped down on the cushions, sprawling out as though it was no concern to him. “Nope.”

“What about the bloodsuckers and Craze?” Myst asked slowly. “Have they been around?”

“Haven’t seen ’em in a couple of days,” Fiero answered distractedly while he flipped through the channels on the television.

Onyx tensed. “Gage, Mac, or Sony?”

“Saw Mac this morning,” Syx said immediately. “I haven’t seen Gage or Sony, though. Mac looked like shit, and he didn’t say too much.”

“Son of a bitch,” Onyx growled. “Split up and check the house. We’ll meet back here in five minutes.”

Five minutes later, everyone was back, Syx dragging Mac along behind him. Mac knew something, but he wasn’t talking. He wouldn’t meet Onyx’s eyes either. “Call Craze.”

Syx pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began dialing.

“I’ll get Hex,” Myst offered and turned to jog back up the stairs.

“I’ll go find the others.” Then Fiero disappeared as well.

“Straight to voice mail.” Syx flipped his phone closed and stuffed it back in his pocket. “I really do not have the patience for this shit right now.”

That was saying something considering Syx had to be the most patient and easygoing of them all. “Do you think they left on their own?”

“Well, I sure as hell don’t think someone walked in here and took them without any of us knowing,” Eyce said, following Fiero down the staircase. “I can’t believe Craze wouldn’t tell us, though. He knows how dangerous it is.”

As one, they all turned their eyes to Mac. “You need to tell us what you know,” Onyx said. “Why would you just let Gage go like that?”

“He didn’t tell me he was leaving,” Mac whispered, finally lifting his head to meet Onyx’s gaze. “I woke up, and they were gone.”

“Then why didn’t you tell someone?” Syx asked gently.

“Gage left a note. He said for me to stay in our room, that he’d be back soon, and not to tell anyone.”

“Did it say anything about where he was going?” Hex asked as he and Echo followed Myst into the room.

Mac shook his head. His eyes were red and puffy, glittering with unshed tears. “No. I’m sorry.”

“When did they leave?”

“The night after the new moon. I woke up the next morning, and they were gone.”

That had been the night Onyx and his lovers had gone down to the kappa pound to have a little time alone. It had been a nice night, warmer than usual. They’d fed cucumbers to the kappas, made love under the stars, and just enjoyed spending some uninterrupted time together.

“What about the others?” Syx asked. “They’re all missing.”

Mac shook his head again. “I don’t know. Someone please tell me what’s going on. Are they okay?”

“I don’t think so, Mac.” Onyx wished he had better news for the little man. If Gage had thought to be back before anyone noticed, and he’d yet to return, that could only mean things had not gone as planned.

“You haven’t seen anything?” Fiero asked. He tapped his temple to punctuate how he thought Mac would have seen.

“I’m not a fucking transistor radio!” Mac shouted. His chest heaved, rising and falling in rapid succession. “I can’t just tune into whatever channel I want to see. It doesn’t work that way!”
Adult Excerpt
Fiero licked Eyce clean then stood and lifted the rope from the hook in the ceiling, letting Eyce’s arms fall to rest in front of him. “What now?” he asked Echo. “This is your show, baby. Whatever you want. Just tell us, and we’ll do it.”

His eyes flickered to Hex, and Echo smiled lecherously. “Make him come.”

Two minutes later, Fiero had the spreader removed from Eyce’s ankles, but didn’t remove the binds from his wrist. Eyce moved fluidly, dropping to his knees and encircling Hex’s prick with his lips. Fiero stood behind Hex, running his hands up the demon’s chest and pinching at his nipples. “Gonna fuck you until you scream,” he rumbled to Hex, but loud enough that everyone could hear.

Echo’s sac tightened, his heart hammered, sweat beaded across his skin, and he struggled to drag in air to his lungs. When his lower belly cramped and his dick swelled in his hand, he released the hard flesh, snatched the lube up from the foot of the bed, and moved behind Syx.

“Gotta get you ready, love.” He helped Syx move toward the bed, then pressed between his massive shoulder blades until his mate’s chest rested flat against the mattress. Slicking his fingers, he slid the trembling digits between Syx’s parted cheeks and rubbed circles over the fluttering starburst.

“Just hurry,” Syx panted, rolling his forehead against the comforter on the bed.

Taking him at his word, Echo pushed inside Syx’s silky channel with two fingers, working them in and out quickly until he could add a third. Looking up the bed, Echo smiled at Vapre, his balls tingling at the heated look in the man’s eyes.

When he had Syx’s hole slicked and loosened, he urged the warrior to his feet and nodded in Vapre’s direction. “Ride him, Syx.”

His mate licked his lips and nodded, the sinews of his arms flexing as he pulled against the restraints. Echo touched his lover’s hands where they were bound together just over Syx’s lower back and shook his head. “Just like this. Please.”

“Whatever you want,” Syx whispered and bent to crush his mouth to Echo’s in a toe-curling kiss. They worked together to get Syx on the bed and straddling Vapre’s hips. Echo took Vapre’s weeping cock in hand, stroked the demon a few times, then held him at attention while Syx hovered over the swollen crown.

So slowly, Echo just knew Syx was trying to torture him, the warrior lowered himself over Vapre’s cock, impaling himself until his firm ass nestled against Vapre’s groin. They all three moaned and shuddered, and Echo grabbed the base of his dick to keep from blowing his load right then and there.

“What about you?” Vapre asked seductively when Syx began to rise and lower over him.

“I want to watch.” With that said, Echo rolled off the mattress and backed away, his eyes never leaving the erotic show on the bed. Easing into Fiero’s recently vacated chair, Echo planted his heels on the seat beside his ass and spread his legs wide.

His hand moved over his pulsing length in a blur, and he pushed two still-oiled fingers into his needy hole. His eyes traveled to Hex, eating up the smooth, glistening skin, the rolling of his muscles, and the mingled look of pleasure, pain, and love on his ridiculously handsome face.

Though the biggest and toughest of them all, Hex surrendered beautifully to Fiero and Eyce. There was no pride, no fear, no indication that he didn’t trust them fully with every part of his body.

Fiero’s arms kept a tight hold on Hex’s hips, his fingers digging into the supple flesh as he pounded into Hex’s upturned ass in lightning fast strokes. Every punishing thrust sent Hex’s hips jerking forward, pushing his cock deeper and deeper into Eyce’s willing mouth.

Inserting a third finger into his clenching opening, Echo pumped his fingers, his other hand jerking furiously at his cock as it swelled almost painfully in his tight grip.

His eyes wandered to Onyx next, drinking in the delicious sight of the demon’s long length plunging into Myst’s hot hole. Again, Onyx held the power, but Myst looked more than happy to give it to him. The warrior’s fingers curled around the slats in the back of the chair, and he rocked with Onyx, pushing back against him and groaning loudly.

Finally turning his attention to Syx and Vapre, Echo’s body tensed, while electricity raced down his spine to pool and burn in his aching balls. Syx’s head fell back on his shoulders, his wrists still tied behind his back, and he lifted up on his knees before dropping back down quickly. Vapre moved as much as he could with his ankles secured to the bedposts, arching his back, and pushing his cock further into Syx’s ass.


Gabrielle Evans