Today we’re thrilled to welcome fellow eXtasy author Renee Matthews, here to share about her upcoming Christmas release, A Timeless Christmas. Part of eXtasy’s Twelve Days of Christmas, it’s due out December 20, and you can pre-order HERE
Some Christmas miracles are not retold, but relived.
Prince Menion had never wanted for anything in his life minus Jacob Riker. Jacob and his twin brother, Lucas, came to the Kingdom of Miraennon every fall and always left before spring arrived. They would bring with them tales of magical worlds and add wonder to his boring life. Then last year, Jacob Riker arrived alone, and they grew closer than Menion should have allowed. Menion was expected to be married and be the next Lord of Miraennon by Christmas. None of those plans involved Jacob Riker.
Being a time traveler, Jacob Riker had never expected to be so stuck in one moment. After their months together, that had been Jacob’s own personal Christmas miracle. Then Menion Astaulind was standing in the snow breaking his heart and proclaimed love for another.
Now, Jacob stands ready to jump through the portal one last time to win over the only man he ever loved before Christmas comes again.
Renee is often in her own little world. There is nothing that she loves more than writing down all the stories that make up her world. She can often be found curled up in front of her laptop with a cup of coffee.
Today we’re thrilled to welcome fellow eXtasy author Maggie Blackbird with a fabulous kinky release just in time for the holidays. You won’t want to miss this one!
He’s got the perfect Christmas present for the community’s chief—vengeance wrapped in a shiny box with a red bow on top.
isn’t angry. He’s pissed. Pissed that the man who threw over his love for glory
and money is back, and now leads their Ojibway community as the new chief.
Holding the pain deep in his chest, Slade knows how he’ll celebrate the most
miserable day of the year—opening a gift of recompense after being dumped by
the one man he dared to love.
Pemmican is full of regret. He knows he made a big mistake leaving Slade for a
materialistic dream of power and prestige. No longer the poor bullied misfit
but an educated lawyer, he’s ready to put his skills to the biggest case of his
life by brazenly challenging Slade in the kangaroo court of sexual torture he’s
daring to stick Gavin in—and win back the only man he’s ever loved.
Gavin swiveled on his black shoe, glancing over his shoulder. No,
not a glance. His heavy-lidded eyes burned into Slade. Searing him until his
The napkin fell to the floor.
Reality slapped Slade’s face cold, and fire crackled in his veins.
Who did this asshole think he was, blatantly tossing garbage around while he
Gavin kept gazing at him while he shifted one leg over the other.
The sound of his heels clicking against the floor echoed off the walls.
Slade gritted his teeth. Was Gavin daring him to get mad, going to
throw around his newfound power if Slade told the high and mighty chief to bend
the hell over and pick that damned napkin off the floor?
Gavin’s dark eyed gaze continued to cut into Slade, as if sharing a
secret. There wasn’t a hint of smug satisfaction. Only a potent, seductive
A man had needs. Slade swallowed. And he wasn’t about to get laid on
the rez, no matter if the population clocked in at eight hundred members.
With one final lingering peek, Gavin disappeared inside his office.
Slade’s breathing hitched. The lightness in his chest twisted until
his lungs clenched. He ought to leave the napkin on the floor and find out what
Gavin had to say about that. Slade set the mop handle aside. If he ignored the
trash, the band manager would call him out.
He trounced to the washroom door and leaned down, swiping up the napkin, but the plush material melting into his palm didn’t resemble a napkin. Then what the…? He turned the garment over. His throat clamped shut. Underwear. He was holding Gavin’s underwear.
An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.
When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.
Christmas so sucks. She’s out of a job, money, and luck until her neighbor
Scott plays Santa. This tall, dark, and sexy hunk delivers sweet decadence and
holiday magic that makes being bad oh-so good.
god. Laurel indulged in Scott’s clean, wondrous flavor, his intense
heat, and male need.
unrestrained sound and his impassioned embrace said more than words could. He
wanted her as no other man had.
hand firmly on her ass, he pulled her into him.
the best possible way, she surrendered to his desire and her own.
as lovers would after a lengthy separation, his stubble scraping her cheeks and
chin. Few things could have better defined or intensified his masculinity.
couldn’t touch him enough and stroked his firm pecs, broad back, silky hair,
and the precious package between his legs.
sound spilled from him. He pushed her tongue aside to fill her mouth and
fondled her boob.
came alive within his lusty caress, the tip and halo painfully tight.
close enough proved beyond necessary and seemingly impossible to achieve. They
were practically welded together and it wasn’t enough. She clawed his top,
wanting the damn thing off.
On a rough
moan, he cupped her ass and lifted her into his arms, her weight
inconsequential against his brute strength. Lost in intolerable need, she
pressed her thighs to his narrow hips, her pussy snug to his cock.
backward and dropped onto the sofa, her straddling him.
flew. Her tank top and bra tangled with his Henley.
her naked breasts, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
swirled in her stomach and pussy, his pleased reaction doing wonders for her
battered heart. Especially given his physical gifts: smooth olive skin, taut
pecs, and beautifully defined abs. Even Photoshopped male models didn’t look
this good. “Where’s your phone? I have to take your picture.”
Yours first though.” He tongued her nipple into his mouth.
pleasure shot through her. Never had she experienced such intense heat. Her
head fell back.
hard, soft, and somewhere in between. His tongue flicked her tip relentlessly.
endings fired. She trembled.
He held her
tightly, preventing escape.
As if she
were crazy enough to be anywhere but up close and personal.
with one boob, he sucked air and leaned toward the other.
no.” She gripped his head. “Stop!”
flooded his handsome features, dread beneath it. “Why?”
have—I can’t wait any longer. Sorry.” She scrambled off his lap, knelt between
his legs, and tugged his fly.
gripped her wrists. “Let me help before you draw blood.”
me, I’m trying.” He yanked his button free and rammed down his zipper.
Together, they shoved his jeans and stretchy boxer briefs to his thighs.
sprang out, wavered, and landed on his belly, the thick shaft so hard it
cupped his lightly furred balls, their weight and warmth pure wonder. “You’re
against the sofa but also pressed his family jewels into her palm. “Yeah?”
“I have to
take a picture.”
fucking now.” Breathing hard, he cupped her hand over his dick and balls.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“No sir. I’ll be good.” She took his rod into her mouth, tonsil deep.
I’m an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who
writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional
publishers and indie. Booklist,
Publisher’s Weekly,Romantic Times
and numerous online sites have praised my work. I’ve won Readers’ Choice
Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the
Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion
competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. I’m featured in the
Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, I worked at a
major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.
On a less serious note: I’m an admitted and unrepentant
chocoholic, brake for Mexican restaurants, and have been known to moan like Meg
Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while
wolfing down tostadas. I’ve flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary),
rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and am horribly
shy despite the hot romances I write.
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