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Featured Book: Condemned and Chosen

Coming January 30th

Sins of Wolves: The Safe Mountain series

Written by Destiny Blaine and Marc Alice

Published by Dark Hollows Press

 

In the mountains of Tennessee, there is only one safe place for pure young women to hide. To live there they must rebel against the new country’s law and order and leave everything familiar behind. As they embrace an uncertain future, the women become the submissive mates to some of the most powerful Doms of our time.

Small town Tennessee is under siege. The Sins of Wolves, a local motorcycle gang, promises to protect the town while politicians vow to strip all innocent young women from their homes.

With an oath to protect the young, the MC arrives with one lone mission. They’re not there to negotiate their terms. They’re there to search and save.

They’re looking for the confirmed. They want the condemned and chosen. And when they find them, they steal away with innocent women they fully intend to claim.

The Great Age of Innocence is upon us and for Sevier County locals the burning question is on the minds of many. Should families relinquish their loved ones to the national armies collecting young women to sell in an international sex trade or should they trust the MC and pray their daughters will eventually make it out of Safe Mountain alive!

Buy Link: Dark Hollows Press

Excerpt

Chuck considered the possible outcome and reminded himself of Molly’s request. She’d never asked him to bring another woman into their bed, but she’d specifically asked if Romy could join them.

When Chuck didn’t respond, Laurel asked, “How do you know about the Senator?”

“I put Levi and Duke on Molly. We kept surveillance on her while we had time to do a background check.”

“And you came up with Senator Brighton, the very man who started trafficking our country’s young women?” She stalked him. “Brighton is the one who started The Enchantment Movement across the globe. He’s the reason people like you and me are slaughtered for harboring these young women in safe havens in order to keep them from being transported. What the hell were you thinking?”

“We didn’t know who she was!”

The door slammed against the back wall and Romy walked in as if she had always owned the right to be in that very room. “But you know who she is now and still you want me to go to bed with her.”

“It’s the only way.”

“Yes.”

“You’re agreeing with him?” Laurel’s high soprano voice pitched an octave higher.

Romy shot Chuck a heated glance. “Sometimes you have to get in bed with the devil before you can raise a little hell.”

 

And Don’t Miss the Sins of Wolves Prequel, An Angel’s Wings

An Angel’s Wings is found in the Dear Santa: A Collection of Erotic Holiday Stories anthology, available now at Dark Hollows Press and all third party retail sites.

Excerpt

Jack scoured the area as far as the eye could see under the full moon’s light. The solid white earth stretched before him with more tracks and prints. He slapped his hand next to what soon became his sample, using his fingers to predict measurements.

“Jack, what is it?” Martha called out to him from their porch, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her of his suspicions.

His vision blurred. His eyes throbbed. It was like a drummer boy stood over him, beating his head like a worn-out drum. The noise became louder instead of softer as the vehicles raced down the mountain, drowning out that dull beat now pulsing in his ears.

Jack ran his fingers around the embedded paw shape, about twice the size of his hand. He rose to his feet and followed the trail, expecting to see a clear path straight into the forest. Instead, he stared out over an open field of freshly fallen snow.

His uncertainties left him to wonder about his child’s bleak future. Had he protected his only daughter or had he thrown Romy to the wolves, to a pack of dogs just waiting to strip away her innocence, maybe even her life?

His daughter had slipped away with renegades, maybe even outright rogues. Now, she was out there somewhere, riding with bikers, with men who were considered dangerous. These men stood against the new laws and order of a country shaped by indecision and scandal. They were thought of as defectors and traitors, yet Jack had entrusted his daughter’s life with them because the alternative guaranteed death and destruction wrought with horror and unknowns.

Sure, Romy faced an undetermined destiny, but given the alternative, she at least had hope. Under the cover of a dark, black night, Romy was headed for Safe Mountain, a legendary protective haven for innocent young women.

As a father, Jack prayed the place would live up to its name.

 

Condemned and Chosen Book Trailer

Follow us at The Sins of Wolves blog

And visit Amazon or Dark Hollows Press today

to purchase your copy of Condemned and Chosen

 

Featured Book: Queen’s Quest, by Suz deMello

Just released from Ellora’s Cave – you won’t want to miss this one!

Queen’s Quest by Suz deMello

Blurb:

Janus is a planet that lacks both tilt and spin. Shadowlands is the pewter band of dusk dividing the violently hot Lightside of the planet from its Darkside, which is imprisoned by eternal night. Birth rates on the planet are low and indiscriminate mating and ménage sex are encouraged.

Audryn, Queen of Shadow, has reached that time in her life when she must choose a King to rule with her or fail to bear an heir, casting not only her realm but all of Janus into chaos. Despite her duty, she is reluctant to share power, even a bit distrustful. Janus’ nobles vie for Audryn’s hand. Although she enjoys trysting with all her suitors, none seize her heart.

Then Storne, the warrior Prince of Darkness, arrives to claim her as his bride, and she finds she cannot resist his masterful ways.

Inside Scoop:  This book contains lots of hot ménage action including a F/F/M scene.

Buy link: http://www.ellorascave.com/queen-s-quest.html

Excerpt:

I sent a message to Storne, the Prince of Darkness, requesting that he attend me toward the end of my toilette, and told Maia to prepare me with especial care for that evening’s dinner. I sent out all other servants so I could speak with her privately about him.

As I reclined on a golden velvet settee, she shaved me, a bolster beneath my hips and my legs wide so my pussy was accessible. With quick, deft strokes of the razor, she cleared the curls from both sides of my delta, then from my labia, so the area ‘round my clitoris was smooth. She then cleansed me with a damp cloth before massaging my sex flesh with lotion scented with soothing lavender and chamomile.

I raised my arms above my head, lifting my breasts so they crinkled in the cool air. Storne, I thought, and I tingled from head to toe. “What did you think of him?”

She did not ask me the subject of my question, but said, “I like him. He is direct and honest in his ways, and has the respect of his men.” She fluffed a powderpuff between my thighs.

I sighed, my pussy throbbing. “How large is his…entourage?”

“Large enough, I trow. The DarkDwellers make dwarves of us all.”

“I have a task for you.”

Maia set the shaving implements on the sideboard, then turned to regard me with her fullest attention. I sat up and took a hairbrush, handing it to her. As she brushed, I talked.

“I do not wish the leaders of Darkness and Light to ever be alone together.”

She paused, and the brush stilled. “I see your concern. If they join against Shadow, we would have no chance against their combined forces.”

“Yes. We would be squeezed like an orange in a press, the life-giving juices extracted and the dry husk left to rot.” Fear twisted deep in my belly.

The brushing resumed. “Kaldir strikes me as ignorant of statecraft.”

“I agree. He may not have thought of such a strategy, but Storne…”

“Yes. I, also, believe it must have occurred to the Prince of Darkness. Storne is far too canny a warrior to allow this opportunity to pass unheeded.”

“Or at least considered the possibilities. He has a reputation as a fine soldier.”

The brushing concluded, she tugged at a bellpull. “I will make certain that Darkness and Light do not merge. But you must also do your part.”

I smiled. “That will be my pleasure.”

Several of my ladies entered, opening wardrobes and bringing out gowns for my inspection. Others braided my hair and pinned it to the top of my head like a crown while others rimmed my eyes with charcoal, pinkened my lips with a rose tint. With unaccustomed nerves, I dithered over my choices, wondering which dress or what color would most entice Storne. I finally said, “The rose pink, the one trimmed with gold lace.” I felt overheated, and the gown was of thin, slick satin. Cooling, as in cooling my lust. I did not want to indulge in hasty actions with the Prince of Darkness.

I continued, “And high shoes. I do not wish to look like a dwarf.”

Maia emitted a sharp bark of laughter as she found pink stockings, which were fastened above my knees with ruffled garters of golden lace. She draped a pink chemise over my head, which was followed by a matching corset, laced tightly to show my narrow waist and lift my breasts. I slid my feet into the heeled slippers, and as the satin gown was tossed over my head, I heard a door open, followed by the clatter of boots.

“Lord Storne.” Maia’s tone was respectful.

I shook my head free of the enveloping folds of lace and satin as she tugged the gown into place. “Good evening,” I said.

“Audryn.” Without being bidden, he approached. He reached for me, then stopped. “May I?”

“Y-yes.” I did not know what he intended, but…

His smile transformed his angular face. He wrapped a big hand behind my neck. His grasp was firm, warm, the skin of his palm a little rough, from swordplay or riding, I imagined. I tried to breathe through a tight, nervous throat.

He kissed me full on the lips, rather than a chaste buss on my cheek, which would have been proper. Though he did not intrude his tongue, the contact was warm, vital and vigorous, hinting at the pleasure we could share.

As he withdrew, his gaze met mine, the gray eyes demanding, gentle and amused. How he packed so many emotions into one glance was a mystery to me. I told myself I was imagining more in his look than actually was there.

I had become infatuated by the Prince of Darkness swiftly…far too swiftly. That was bad. I could not make decisions affecting the history and welfare of my realm based on a passing fancy.

Maia bustled around me, fastening golden earbobs onto my lobes, bracelets on my wrists. Another lady laced my gown up the back. I was grateful for their presence, for the respite that the mundane tasks afforded; I could collect myself, regain my lost poise.

When I was dressed, Storne said, “Let’s walk before dinner.”

“Certainly.” I donned long, pink satin gloves. Fingerless, they wouldn’t impede me when eating or touching. Again, anxiety cramped me to the guts, but I laid a hand onto his elbow.

He had bathed from top to toe. Most of his dark mane hung loose, but the thick locks at each side of his face were braided, leaving his features, angular but pleasing, exposed. Amber and musk from the EastMarch scented his hair. He wore fine garments subdued in color: deep blue shot and trimmed with silver. The hue complemented his coloring. Hose of the same rich tone limned brawny legs. He was aware of Shadowland fashion, for his codpiece was large and embroidered with thick silver thread. His velvet doublet bore a design with the sacred oak and fiery mountain, traditional symbols of Darkside nobility, nature-worshippers all.

His gray eyes continued expressive, holding intelligence and humor, and his mouth was unexpectedly sensual. A fantasy image of his lips caressing my pussy drifted across my mind.

He led me through the palace with a sure step, showing no uncertainty. Our respective retinues followed. Behind me, the train of my gown swept the slates, but as it didn’t have panniers or hoops, our bodies occasionally bumped as we walked. Each contact shot a scintillating trail of desire along my skin.

“Do you know your way? Where are we going?” I asked.

He cast me an amused glance. “I had a free hour to explore your castle. It is an admirable stronghold.”

He took me to the same terrace where I’d so joyously given my virginity on my Exhibition Day. When our servants attempted to follow, I said, “It’s all right. There are plenty of people below.”

True enough; down on the lawns, tearing apart the sod, a herd of magnificent taqqa milled and stamped, huge animals with shaggy ochre-colored pelts, massive humped shoulders and curved horns, themselves long, sharp weapons. Some of the beasts were mounted by armored warriors almost as big as Storne, while the rest were laden. Servants, both Shadowlanders and Darksiders, busily unloaded and stacked boxes, baskets, trunks, rugs and portmanteaux. That our people worked together amicably was not lost on me.

“For you,” Storne said.

I stared at him.

“Tribute.”

My eyes widened. “You owe me no tribute, and you cannot buy me.”

“No, but I see that I must woo you.” That smile again, so unexpected from such a solemn mien. “I am but a rough warrior, but I wish to be your rough warrior.”

Pleasure robbed me of speech. I was touched by his courtliness, so at odds with his earlier arrogance. And he was an astute judge of character. He had taken my measure immediately and adjusted his approach. He had also come prepared for any eventuality.

He took out a small pouch from a hidden pocket in his doublet. “My first gift to you.”

My face felt too small for my smile. “Thank you.” Excited, I reached for the red satin bag, hoping it contained jewelry. Darkside boasted a wealth of minerals and gems, and its artisans excelled in the craft of jewelry design.

He pulled it out of my reach. “Let me show you. Rumor tells me that women of the Shadowlands enjoy this kind of gift, and I will enjoy knowing that you wear it.” He tugged apart the drawstring at the pouch’s top and upended it above his cupped palm. A stream of molten gold spilled forth, resolving into a fine chain, nearly three feet long.

Puzzled, I took it out of his hand and held it up to examine it by the light of the torches lining the marble terrace. The chain had little scissor-like appendages at each end, each maybe the size of my thumbnail. The scissors had curved blades that weren’t sharp but were lined with tiny seed pearls, leaving a circular gap in the center perhaps the size of a baby pea. The ends were curlicued to wrap around each other.

I raised my brows at Storne.

“Allow me.” But he didn’t take the chain, instead reaching for my bodice.

I gasped and pulled away. “Sir, you presume too much.”

“Do I?” He paced the length of the terrace, then returned. “Audryn, there is only one sure test of our ability to rule together, and this mating is a radical step neither of us can take without some…experimentation. I know you approach your seventeenth starturn, and you have sworn to crown your king on that day.”

My jaw tightened. “Your spies are most effective.”

“Thus, time grows short. Please.” He reached for me again, and this time I did not resist. He was right; besides, I wanted him to touch me intimately. Though his hands were rough, he handled my breasts with tenderness, lifting them above the gown and away from the corset’s confinement, resting them atop my lace-trimmed neckline. Cool air washed my breasts, a delightful sensation. My nipples wrinkled. He passed a hand over the mounded flesh, traced one curved pink aureole’s edge. Need flared through me, and my pussy dampened anew.

He smiled. “I suppose that I will have to learn to enjoy the public sex that your customs demand. And I may as well begin…now.” He slid an arm around me and bent his head to kiss first one nipple and then the other, licking around the aureole, sucking to lengthen the tips until they were hard and distended.

He gripped my left one between his teeth and gave it a sharp little nip. I gasped, “Storne!”

“Did that hurt?”

“A little.”

He rubbed his lips over the tiny pain he’d caused, and the sting dissolved into a haze of pleasure. He took one of the scissorlike appendages and opened the clasp, then closed it around my swollen nipple.

The tiny pearls gripped the very tip of my breast, lighting a spark of need that zipped to my pussy. I rested my face against his chest, breathing deeply in a vain attempt to control my reaction. I felt heat in my cheeks and the softness of his velvet doublet, my pulsing clit…an array of dizzying sensations.

He dropped the chain, and the slight weight tugging on my nipple built my pussy’s spark into a fire. He lifted my right breast higher and pinched my nipple, kissed and licked the tip. When it also swelled, he fastened the other clip to it. The fire roared into a blaze, and I grabbed his shoulders, flinging back my head. He laid a trail of kisses across my bare chest, up to my throat, along my jawline before he reached my lips.

This time, he took my mouth with a commanding kiss, holding me so tightly that I could feel the embroidery on his doublet abrade my naked breasts. My captured nipples rubbed across velvet, scraped across silver thread. I tore my lips away from his and I cried out, heedless of the warriors and servants below. I cared for nothing but the man who held me in his arms, who had claimed me when he chained my breasts, took my mouth.

About the Author

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

–Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
–For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

–Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift, and visit her group at

http://www.facebook.com/HotWriters

–She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

–Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

 

Lucy Felthouse ~ On Tour for Stately Pleasures

Today we’re thrilled to welcome Lucy Felthouse back to our pages. After marvelous success as an erotica short story and novella author, she’s on tour for her first full length novel, Stately Pleasures. Be sure to scroll to the end for her giveaway, and click on the Tour graphic to link to the rest of her tour stops for more chances to enter.

Planning Stately Pleasures by Lucy Felthouse

As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, it took a while for me to make the jump from short stories to novellas, then from novellas to novels. I was worried that I didn’t have enough “story” to warrant a novel, or that it would get boring, or that I’d get bored.

But when the time came for me to start working on Stately Pleasures, I decided there was only one way to find out—I’d have to get on with it. With short stories, I never bother planning as they often just come from a small idea and I then write and see what happens. But this couldn’t be the case with a novel, I could end up meandering through a story, have no actual plot, or something equally horrendous. So, to ensure I wrote a full-length book which had plot, journeys for the characters, continuity and lots of hot sex, a plan was needed.

I know writers work in many different ways when it comes to planning, but I went back to being somewhat old-fashioned. In a brand new notebook (any excuse) I started scribbling. Then I shuffled things around, crossed things out, added things and finally had twenty (I think – I don’t have the notes any more) chapters planned out, with a beginning, a middle and a satisfying (I hope) ending.

Once that was done, I had no excuse. I had to get on with it—and so I did. It was much easier having the plan there, although I knew I wouldn’t stick to it 100%–if things changed it wasn’t an issue. It just meant that once I’d finished a chapter, I could look at the notebook and know exactly where the story was going next. There were no moments of indecision, of wondering what was going to happen next, how the characters were going to get from A to B, and why.

That’s not to say it wasn’t hard work. It was, very much so. I’d been used to being able to write a short story in a couple of days—a very quick and satisfying thing. A novel, of course, takes much longer, so the satisfaction of finishing is much further away. But far from being disheartened by this fact, I let it spur me on. Each word, each chapter I completed was another step closer to the end. And the more I wrote, the more I was determined to get it finished and not see the work I’d already done go to waste.

And, obviously, I got there! I think it took me roughly four months, which I don’t think was too bad considering that included the planning and a little extra research, and that it was my first full-length novel. I also don’t write full-time. I was very proud of my achievement, although I knew it wasn’t the end of the work! More information on Stately Pleasures’ route to publication in tomorrow’s post.

Follow the blog tour to find out more about how Stately Pleasures came to be: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/lucy-felthouse-5/

Blurb:

Alice Brown has just landed her dream job. Property manager at Davenport Manor, a British stately home. It’s only a nine-month contract to cover maternity leave, but it’s the boost up the career ladder she so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, things don’t get off to the best start, when Alice finds her boss, Jeremy Davenport, in a compromising position. Far from being embarrassed by what’s happened, Jeremy turns things around on Alice and makes her out to be the one in the wrong. So when he and his best friend and head of security, Ethan Hayes, then throw an ultimatum at her, she’s so stunned and confused that she goes along with their indecent proposal.

When the dust settles and Alice has time to think about things, though, she realises that perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing. There are worse things she could be doing to advance her career, after all.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/stately-pleasures/

Add to Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18756618-stately-pleasures

Excerpt:

Alice took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. Repeated the process once more. Then, realising she could sit there all day doing it and not feel any calmer, she forced herself to step out of the car and close and lock the door.

She bent to peer into the wing mirror of the vehicle and checked her hair and make-up. Satisfied, she straightened, then turned on her heel and walked quickly across the driveway to the great house before her nerve failed her.

Davenport Manor was currently open for visitors, so she walked in through the front door and was met by a smiling elderly lady.

‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked kindly.

‘Yes, please.’ Alice twisted her hands together nervously. ‘I’m here to see Mr Davenport. I’m here for an interview for the property manager’s role.’

‘Yes, of course,’ the woman replied, ‘that’s today, isn’t it? Follow me; I’ll take you to Mr Davenport’s office. But just hang on one second.’

She ducked through the doorway into the next room and spoke with her colleague. Alice guessed she was letting her co-worker know she’d be gone for a few minutes. A few seconds later, she was back. ‘OK, follow me, Miss …’

‘Brown,’ Alice said, then fell in behind the other woman as she led her to Mr Davenport’s office, and the interview that could change her life for ever. It was hardly surprising that she was shaking like a leaf.

Alice quickly felt lost as their journey took several twists and turns along dim corridors – their blinds drawn to protect paintings, tapestries, and furniture from the sunlight – and up a flight of stairs. She had a few seconds to worry about finding her way if she was lucky enough to get the job, then, suddenly, her guide stopped outside a door and turned around.

‘Here you go, Miss Brown. Mr Davenport’s office. Good luck with your interview.’

Alice smiled and thanked the elderly woman, then smoothed down her skirt, which also conveniently helped wipe the nervous sweat off her hands. She stood up straight, gave herself a mental pep talk about being more than qualified for the role, and knocked on the door.

‘Enter.’

Alice knew that voice could only belong to Jeremy Davenport. The posh accent, and the fact he’d said “enter” instead of “come in”, screamed money and an upper-class upbringing. Alice was suddenly nervous of her broad Midlands accent and lowly background, despite the fact she’d worked her backside off to get into a decent university in order to gain a Bachelor of Arts degree and then a Master’s degree. No matter what she sounded like, or what her past was, she had all the skills necessary to do the job she was about to be interviewed for.

Suddenly, she realised that she’d left rather a long pause before opening the door, and she turned the handle before the occupants of the room thought they were about to interview some kind of simpleton who couldn’t follow a simple instruction.

Fixing a polite – but hopefully not inane – smile onto her face, Alice stepped into Jeremy Davenport’s office. Her first thought – which certainly did nothing to help her nerves – was good God, he’s hot.

Jeremy sat behind a desk, with a heavily pregnant woman sitting beside it. Alice barely noticed the woman. All she saw was him. A man with cropped dark brown hair, hazel/green eyes, a jawline you could cut bread with, and lips that looked capable of doing incredibly wicked, sexual things to a woman. Or a man. Alice had no idea what his sexuality was, but she found herself hoping he liked women.

She chastised herself. Even if he did like women, he wouldn’t go for someone like her. A Plain Jane, with mousy brown shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, average height and above average weight. Alice had always known she’d never be a supermodel, so she’d worked extra hard academically, and here she was. About to be interviewed for her dream job.

About the Author

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over eighty publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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