Thursday, February 8, 2007

Breaking Skye - Eden Bradley

Breaking Skye - Eden Bradley
February, 2007 - ISBN 978-1-59426-906-6
$2.50 eBook (five formats) - Buy Now!
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This could not be him. This man could not be the one who would strip her bare, put her on her knees and do unspeakable things to her ... lovely, wicked things she had only ever imagined in the darkest corners of her mind.

When she'd posted the ad on bondage.com she'd imagined finding a man with an air of command. A man who carried himself with utter confidence. A man who could guide her through this experience with capable hands.

He was all of these things. But he was too beautiful to be real. Like some fallen angel with his evil-looking goatee, his sharply-honed bone structure, his too-lush mouth. He had shoulders like a Greek god beneath his black trench coat. Droplets of water clung to the fabric, and she watched as he shrugged out of the long coat and shivered a bit at the damp, San Francisco cold. Perhaps he was human after all.

He spoke her name in a low voice that felt like a caress. "Skye."

Certainty in his voice. She had a feeling this man never doubted himself. A Dominant through and through. What had she heard this kind of man called in her research on the Internet? A true Dominant?

"Yes. You must be Adam."

He nodded, took her hand as he slid into the chair across from hers. He held on just a moment too long, the flickering heat of his touch making her wonder if she wanted him to let go. The tiny café table seemed like too little space separating them. Adam Dunne had an enormous, palpable presence.

A waitress came as though summoned and took his order for an espresso while Skye made a brief study of his face. Absolutely masculine, every line, every plane. A short, thick thatch of brown hair a few shades lighter than his goatee. He had a small scar just below his lower lip, making his features appear even more masculine. His eyes were a dark, dusky blue framed in thick lashes. God, what it would be like to have those eyes turned on her, focused...

She shivered and realized he still hadn't released her from his grip. She glanced down and saw another scar on the back of his left hand, a small crescent around the joint of the thumb. Why was it she wanted to run her finger over it? When he turned to her, meeting her gaze, she shivered again with a fine, pure heat.

Lust.

She hadn't expected to feel this.

"Are you all right, Skye?" He smiled. Gorgeous white teeth.

All the better to eat you with.

At The Edge - Marty Rayne

At The Edge - Marty Rayne
February, 2007 - ISBN 978-1-59426-592-1
$2.50 eBook (five formats) - Buy Now!
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Michael pulled his jacket closer to his body. Still the cold February wind seeped in, making him shiver. He should have known that coming to New York this time of the year it would still be winter, and he wished he'd brought a heavier jacket. But, as another cold breeze slapped at him, he relished the stimulating sensations. It made him feel real. Alleviated some of the burden on his heart.

The city was alive all around him as lights blinked off and on and the never-ending traffic passed by. The sidewalks were still teeming with people coming and going even at this late of an hour. He wished he felt as alive as those around him.

Michael knew that he should be in a much better mood. He was in New York City. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps. But why did he feel so alone in a city full of so many people?

He crossed the street with a group of strangers when the light told them to walk, his body on automatic. Knowing that this was the way back to the hotel where he was staying. He would have already been there by now if he'd taken a cab, but he opted to walk. He wanted some fresh air along with time alone from the others.

Thinking of his friends, Michael's cell phone started ringing. Seeing who it was, he reluctantly answered it.

"Michael Tanner," Shannon's voice called loudly over the heavy beat of music in the background, her tone scolding, "how dare you leave so early!"

Michael sighed. Shannon was his best friend and the reason for them being in New York. A music scout had heard a demo Shannon had made and insisted that she come and do more recordings. As part of the incentive, the company interested in her work had also taken care of the bill for four of her friends to join her. An all paid, five-day vacation for himself, Shannon's boyfriend Riley, and her twin brother and sister, Christopher and Hannah.

It had been a whirlwind trip as the quartet visited museums and saw the sights while Shannon busied herself at the recording studio during the daylight hours. The music company also supplied their newest interest with tickets to a Broadway show their first night. The rest of the nights had been spent gaining access to several of the top dance clubs in the area where it was a usual sight to be next to hot young movie stars and musicians. Fun to be had by all. Or, that was the idea.

Yes, Michael had enjoyed his trip to the 'Big City,' but still felt saddened despite the excitement of seeing it for the first time. He only wished that Todd could have been the one to experience it along with him.

Todd Long. Michael's Mr. Right. Or, so he thought. Now he wasn't so sure. Things had been a little rocky in their relationship lately. Michael felt as if they were getting into a rut. A routine that was sure to make any relationship wither and die. Michael was only twenty-one years old, being younger than his lover by seven years, but he knew the signs. Their lives revolved around Michael's school and their jobs. They socialized little anymore and their sex life ... well, let's just say it needed help. They were so busy with other things in their life; they hardly made time for intimacy.

"Earth to Michael." Shannon's voice brought him back to the present.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. My head is pounding so I thought I'd turn in early." They had been tearing up the town for three nights straight. He was indeed tired. "Besides, we have a plane to catch tomorrow, remember?"

"Pah ... sleep is overrated," she huffed. "Besides, it's Valentine's Day. We are supposed to be celebrating it all together."

"I know, but I'm tired. I'm almost to the hotel now. You be careful, and I'll see you in the morning." Before she could protest further, he closed the phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

It was Valentine's Day, and here he was alone in a strange city. He would rather be back in Florida with Todd, but he wasn't sure if it would have been any more enjoyable. Todd had been so distant lately, and Michael knew he was partially to blame. He had come on this trip hoping that their time apart would give each of them a chance to evaluate their relationship. His only thought had been to be back home spending his time with Todd again.

Michael nodded to the doorman before entering the posh hotel that Shannon's benefactors of this little trip had set them up in. As a full time student with a part time job, Michael knew that he wouldn't have been able to afford even one night in this place on his own accord. It was top notch. The sucking up they were doing to Shannon was giving all of them a ride. This may be the only time he would ever get a chance to stay in such an elegant place. Teachers normally didn't make huge salaries, but his love of teaching outweighed that of monetary greed.

Stepping into the elevator, Michael turned his thoughts back to Todd and the reasons for his distance. The notion of kicking himself really hard crossed his mind, feeling he was the cause of the further distance between them. Michael had thought that maybe if they brought a little spice into their love life, it would help draw them closer again. So one night, after drinking nearly a whole bottle of wine, he made a confession to Todd.

Michael had always had a specific type of fantasy tucked away in the back of his brain. One he'd told no one before. A fantasy that had made his hands shake nervously as he looked at his lover. Michael had always wanted to try bondage. He had many times fantasized about being bound and helpless at his lover's mercy but was always unsure about seeing anyone's reaction to what he craved, until now.

Todd's reaction to Michael's confession was startling. Michael had held his breath waiting for the expression of disgust, revulsion, or shock to form, but Todd's expression was blank and remained that way. He nodded but said nothing about it. In fact, he kissed Michael on the cheek affectionately before leaving the apartment they shared together saying he would be back later. Later, as in six the following morning later.

That was four days before Michael left for New York, and Todd never did make a comment about Michael's confession or say where he went that night. Now Michael was beginning to regret ever taking the risk.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

An Acquired Taste - Jude Mason

An Acquired Taste - Jude Mason
February, 2007 - ISBN 978-1-59426-945-5
$5.50 eBook (five formats) - included in Yes Ma'am - Buy Now!
Author's Backlist: Jude Mason

"Damn!" The word exploded before she could stop it. Since Tom's death, she hadn't been able to visit that room without tears blurring her vision, forcing her to leave. Today was no different. In the seven years they'd had together, they'd become best friends. They'd known everything about each other. He'd been the only man who truly understood her and had been willing—no, eager—to put up with her idiosyncrasies.

Hastily she turned and marched out, fighting back the feelings of loss and loneliness that had plagued her for the past six months. Softly shutting the door, she leaned back against it, and sighed.

Cynthia Lyon, hardnosed businesswoman, weeping widow, scowled. Her ragged breathing finally smoothed out. Looking up, her eyes came to rest at the corner of the dining room. She spotted a dark patch on the ceiling. "No," she groaned, and cursed again. "Damn!" She walked across the hardwood floor to get a better look and felt her anger rise.

The beam that separated the living room from the dining room looked fine, but on the dining room side there was a large, roughly circular patch that shouldn't have been there. A leak, perfect. That's all she needed. She'd thought their two bedroom cabin would be just right for her now that she was alone, but it seemed that no matter which way she turned, something happened to disrupt her life.

She walked around the large, open living room/dining room, checking for more of the ugly stains. The rich oak walls in the living room soothed her anger somewhat, and when she found no more watermarks, she was ready to let her mood improve.

The large picture window at the front of the room looked out over a lush green lawn with its island of shrubs set off to one side. The pathway leading to the river wound around clumps of bulbs and colorful perennials she'd planted the previous year. Turning away from the window, she spotted Tom's painting above the overstuffed forest green sofa, and felt a tug at her heart. He'd been an amazing artist, and each room held at least one of his wildlife paintings.

She circled the room and checked around the fireplace to be sure there were no discolorations around the chimney. Relieved, she carried on, passed her bedroom doorway, into the dining room again.

The oak table with its five high-backed chairs dominated the room, but the large window and the sliding glass door made it look as if she were almost outside. Two years earlier, she'd redecorated the dining room. Instead of the same wood walls as the living room, she'd put a chair rail around the room, and left the warm oak at the bottom, but the top she'd painted a calming, golden cream color. Two candleholders on the one wall framed a painting of a doe with her fawn resting beside a mist-shrouded river. It was one of her favorite paintings, but surprisingly, wasn't one of Tom's.

She did a slow turn, admiring her small world—galley kitchen, all in pale gold and burnt orange, with white frilly curtains over the sink, the door to that special room, the one she had trouble visiting, even now. Beside it was the bathroom, the door ajar, allowing some of its brightness to creep into the room. That was her sanctuary, and the one room she'd totally redone. Large, nearly as big as the spare room and too large for the size of the cabin, the Jacuzzi tub was the only thing she could count on to help her relax. She'd done the entire room in a mottled gray slate, and loved it.

Spotting Ginger, her cat, sprawled along the back of the couch, she said, "Well, Ginger, it looks like we're going to get the roof fixed." Going into the kitchen, she got a large glass from the cupboard beside the sink, filled it with pink grapefruit juice, and joined Ginger. Stroking the soft fur behind the cat's ear, she took a sip of her juice. The large feline rolled onto his side and reached for her with his front foot. Under her hand, she felt rumbling. He was purring.

"I also think it's time for that sunroom I've always wanted."

She pulled the cat onto her lap and together they watched the evening sunset through the living room window. Shades of bronze splashed across the floor as the sun slowly sank behind the distant mountains, reflecting off the few remaining rain clouds in the sky. With Ginger curled up in her lap, Cynthia thought of the calls she'd have to make in the morning.

Four years ago, they'd been financially burned when a contractor left without fulfilling his contract with them. Two months of trying to find him had proven fruitless. When Tom and she had tried to press charges, the judge told them they were in the right, but it was up to them to find the contractor before anything could be done. That left them with a gaping hole where the fireplace now stood, and a vow never to trust a contractor again. But, she also knew she wasn't capable of doing all the construction she wanted by herself.

Stifling a yawn, she picked up the cat and her empty glass. After depositing the glass in the sink, she checked the locks on both doors. It was a quiet neighborhood to be sure, but she wasn't about to tempt fate. Ginger leapt from her arms as soon as she walked into her bedroom, landing with a soft thud on the small chair beside the door. That was his guard post, and she stroked his head for a moment before going any farther.

When he'd settled comfortably, she straightened up and switched on the overhead light. The fan slowly turned and the room glowed with soft light. Deep burgundy carpet made the room feel warm and cozy. Large vases, filled with both dried and cut flowers scented the room. Facing the backyard was a door with a large pane of glass that opened onto a small, private deck.

Drawing the crushed velvet, deep gold drapes, she remembered how Tom used to come up behind her and wrap her in his arms. She felt a sudden pang of loneliness and need. Tom, how she wished he was there to share her bed. A subtle clenching in her pussy reminded her of how long she'd been celibate. Masturbation was fine, for a while, but she missed the touch of a man.

Slipping out of her blue silk blouse and the form fitting skirt she'd worn to the office, she admired herself in the full-length mirror. Black, curly hair framed an oval shaped face, and eyes the color of dark chocolate stared back at her. At five-eight, she knew she had more curves than was fashionable. A large bosom and way too much ass, she smiled remembering how Tom used to squeeze and caress her there.

Skimming out of her pantyhose, she tossed them into the hamper. The blue lace bra and matching panties soon followed, leaving her naked and flushed. Frustrated, but unwilling to use the vibrator she'd recently purchased, she slipped into the white silk pajamas she'd left folded on her pillow. Her nipples puckered and the damp warmth between her thighs was impossible to ignore.

She switched off the bedroom light, and climbed into bed. Cool sheets and the smell of flowers soon lulled her to sleep. Her dreams carried her into the arms she longed for.