Romance Excerpts Only Blog

All work and no play? Not in their offices.

Elaine's relationship with her office assistant went from a normal friendship to lovers, and they are both struggling to find the balance between their professional and personal lives together. Steve wants to take things public, but Elaine is worried about possible complications. So he decides to show her who's boss, with a little help from her submissive nature and a sexy new toy in Michelle Houston's "Butterfly's Effect."

In D Musgrave's "Jewels of Desire," Sabrina receives a special set of intimate jewelry. Intrigued by the possibilities, she decides to wear it to work. Can she maintain her composure while fighting the urge to give in to the desires the jewelry inspires?


Now available from Phaze!
11,500 words
$3.99

Check out D Musgrave's website

Check out Michelle Houston's website

Excerpt from Jewels of Desire:

Sabrina smiled as she stared up toward the ceiling in the darkness. Never in her wildest, most fanciful dreams would she have imagined she’d have the nerve to do what she'd done that day. That knowing smile became a soft chuckle as she recalled the events.

What was she so happy about? The fact that she'd spent the entire day wearing a special form of intimate jewelry. The type you don't show off, even to your closest confidants.

It was a gift from her new lover. A man who she'd only known for a few weeks, but in that time had opened up a whole world of possibilities she'd been afraid to see. Because of Jack, her sexual horizons had broadened further than they had ever been before. She believed that nothing she fantasized about was unobtainable.

Most recently was the clit clip Jack had found at a biker rally and presented to her. She'd originally assumed it was for her to wear around the apartment as an addition to their game play. She couldn't have been more wrong.

Sabrina had never considered herself that adventurous. Certainly not enough to do what she'd just spent the day doing—wearing a clit clip to work. But that's just what happened.

Recalling how the day began, Sabrina closed her eyes and pictured herself crawling out of bed after a late night at Jack’s. They seldom slept much when they were together, and she usually paid for it the next day with constant sleep attacks.

Jack had already left for work and she was alone in his house. She stumbled into the shower, hoping the cascading water would pull her out of the heavy-eyed fog. All she could think of was the night before, and how Jack had reacted with surprise at her joy at receiving the jewelry and willingness slip it on; to be honest she shocked herself.

She remembered standing in the shower as her body responded to the memories of the previous night's play. Her rose-pink nipples harden, feeling the all too familiar percolation begin between her thighs. She struggled to keep her hands from lingering longer than necessary over her recently awakened erogenous zones, while she showered. The urge to delve into her body and bring myself off grew into a tormenting desire.

Somehow, she'd managed to keep her fingers focused on the utilitarian task of washing. She rinsed the bubbles off her charged skin, trying to push away the thoughts of how good it would feel to use the handheld shower head to do more than remove the soap bubbles. With a forced effort, she shut off the shower and grabbed the towel hanging on the curtain rod.

As she dried off, the soft, yet coarse texture of the towel dragging across her sensitive flesh, she remembered the clit clip and how it excited Jack to see her wearing it.

Absentmindedly, her fingers glided over her mound, spreading her sensitive labia open. Her middle finger found the hooded clitoris and she gently touched the nerve center of her sex. She sagged back against the wall of the shower and gasped from the sudden rise of sexual hunger. It was as if her finger knew precisely where and how to touch to bring forth the most excitement. Within seconds, she was teetering on the edge of rushing headlong into a convulsive orgasm, when a voice from the back of her mind spoke to her, 'Sabrina, wear the clip today.'

That's right! THE BIRTHDAY GIFT by Giselle Renarde just won't quit being popular! Many e-books enjoy a burst of popularity when they first hit the market, and then sales and awareness dwindle. THE BIRTHDAY GIFT is different. Even after a few fine years on the e-book market, it's as much in demand as ever!

Why do readers enjoy THE BIRTHDAY GIFT ? One reader told me "it has something for everyone" because, as an MMFF menage story, there's gay male, lesbian, and hetero naughtiness. Another reader calls THE BIRTHDAY GIFT "A Must Read!" Me? I like the surprise ending. I go for that sort of thing. Oh, and the cover is g-g-g-gorgeous!

What's it all about? Read on :-)

Meredith is a cake-baking, apron-wearing small-town Canadian mom. Her
guiding principle in life is, “What would June Cleaver do?” That is,
until a curious set of circumstances cause her to crash an outdoor
gathering where she stumbles upon a pair of delicious hunks getting a
little hands-on with each other. Surely June Cleaver would have headed
for the hills at the sight! Not Meredith. This relaxed get-together
really heats up when one man’s wife appears on the scene… and encourages
Meredith to join in.


Whew! Hot stuff! But the story’s not over yet. There’s still the
tropical vacation, the confinement in foreign prison, the trial for
freedom… and, hey, where’s Meredith’s husband in all this? It is his birthday, after all…

Intriguing, right? Well, it would be rude of me not to share a spicy excerpt, so here's a XXX tidbit for those of us who love the image of two built guys getting frisky:

Excerpt from THE BIRTHDAY GIFT by Giselle Renarde

As Meredith drew her lids open, her heart nearly stopped. On a built-in bench at the opposite end of the isolated deck sat Richard and Ash. No clothes. Two men—two strangers—naked in Joyce’s backyard. A flutter of nervous excitement turned Meredith’s body into a battlefield. Leave! No, stay. Watch! No, go.

But how could she leave when, just a stone’s throw across the deck, Richard’s hard cock surged toward the well-defined muscles of his tight stomach? A tingling sensation culminated at the summit of Meredith’s lower lips when Ash reached over to stroke Richard’s rigid cock. Was this an unwelcome act? Apparently not! Richard’s magnificent hairless chest glimmered with sweat as he swept a hand across Ash’s brawny thigh. Close your mouth, young lady! You’ll catch flies.

This must have been a common occurrence, because Joyce didn’t seem surprised in the least. Meredith tried to be unnerved, offended, angered, upset by the men’s behavior, but it was impossible. Two gorgeous men lying side-by-side in the summer sun and stroking each others’ rigid shafts? June Cleaver would have been long gone by now, but Meredith was in awe of the men’s breathtaking bodies, of their surging muscles, of their cocks sparkling with pre-cum. This was the single sexiest image she’d ever seen. Richard and Ash didn’t seem to mind her being there, so what was the harm in watching?

A white hand firmly took hold of a thick brown cock while a brown hand slowly jerked off the large white rod. This act ought to be the new symbol of international peace and brotherhood. Two masculine males pumping each others’ stiff rods was far more stimulating than a simple black hand shaking a white hand. A warm tingling sensation took over Meredith’s body.

She clutched her fruit platter for fear she’d drop it and send porcelain and mango flying. Maintain a safe distance.
Maybe you've read THE BIRTHDAY GIFT already. If you haven't, why not pick up a copy? You can buy THE BIRTHDAY GIFT from eXcessica Publishing , All Romance e-books , Amazon , or any respected e-book retailer!

Hugs,

Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!
http://freewebs.com/gisellerenarde/

http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com

Jane Renard is a college professor...and a secret author of erotica. Look what happens to her when Marcus Sloan comes into her life to help her solve a mystery -- Jane gets some first-hand knowledge to help spice up her novels!

Then Marcus looked at me again. I had the feeling he knew I was attempting to avoid revealing anything more. The man was too perceptive by half. “And your late husband? The thing you need to see Sam about?”

I hesitated. “I feel I need to try to explain about Toby.”

He nodded. His white hair was standing up in little spikes from the sweat. He obviously hadn’t shaved yet for the day because his cheeks were heavily stubbled. I had a hard time not staring at him as I talked.

“When Toby left me, I was so ashamed. I didn’t want to tell anybody. My brother Robbie knew something was amiss, though. I was in Pittsburgh by then, teaching at Westmoreland. He’d taken a job in New York, but he came out to see me. I told him all about...”

I stopped myself in time. I almost revealed my Big Secret. How did Marcus Sloan do it? I barely knew him and I almost unveiled the biggest secret in my life. I backpedaled.

“After Toby was gone for two years, I could legally file for divorce in Pennsylvania, where I lived. I did so, receiving what appeared to be quite legal documents in return, which stated my divorce was final. I didn’t...um... I handled it all myself. My parents had warned me against marrying him in the first place and I wanted to show how independent I was by handling the mess I made of my life.” I blew out a long sigh.

He smiled. I noticed for the first time he had a little scar running along the side of his face and onto his chin. It rippled when he smiled. “I know how that goes.”

“Robbie tried to find Toby, but he’d vanished. It was Robbie who told the family what happened.” I sipped my coffee. “I have a very large, extended family so everyone had to get involved. My uncle Phil, my cousin Petros, my uncle Vanya, my dad Walt—all the male relatives wanted to track down Toby and make him ‘do the right thing’.” I laughed shakily. “I wasn’t sure I wanted Toby back, though. So I filed the papers.”

I paused to order my thoughts and Sloan didn’t pressure me. He just waited. It was very soothing. I struggled to make him understand without making it look as though I was hoping for a reassuring compliment. “I’ve always known I’m not the type of woman—” I stopped and started again. “I don’t make men—” I stopped again. “I mean, I’m not terribly sexy. Toby was very sexy and sophisticated. When he paid attention to me, I was so flattered. And I was unsure about my future. I was starting a new job, but wasn’t sure if it was the right career path for me. Toby lied to me. He told me he’d be deported unless I helped him. He told me he was here on a graduate student visa and...” I looked at Sloan, expecting to see pity at my stupidity.

Instead I saw compassion. It gave me the courage to continue. “Then, a few days after we got married I found he was sleeping around. Maggie—you met her? She saw him with another woman. I confronted Toby about it but he just laughed it off.” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at my curls in agitation. “It mattered a lot to me. I trusted him.”

“I can understand how that must have made you feel,” Sloan said quietly. “You trusted him and he threw it in your face.”

I looked into his eyes but didn’t see a hint of condescension or laughter at my naiveté. This was a man who understood trust and the converse of that—violated trust.

I believe it was at that moment that I decided to convince Marcus Sloan to introduce my virgin body to the joys of sex.

A secret pleasure denied could be the end for long time lovers Rob and Max, or will mistrust do it first?

Rob Jenkins is worried. The relationship he's been in for six years has become a little stale and not very intimate. He loves Max more than anything, but the man's sexual fetish of 'doing things' in public never interested him.

While Max is away at a two-week business conference, Rob concludes that in order to save their relationship, he needs to make some choices. He surprises Max with a weekend visit and the offer to play a 'game'. Will the sexy scenarios be enough, or will they merely expose the flaws in their relationship?

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of male/male intimacy and exhibitionism.

Publisher's Note: This story has been previously released as part of the Friction anthology by Total-E-Bound

"I can’t say enough about the style Byrnes and Mason bring to each and every book they do together." ~ Erotic Horizon Reviews

More information or purchase here

Hi there: J L Wilson here. Seems like I write a lot of winter mysteries. But hey -- I live in Minnesota. Maybe that's why?

Here's one you might enjoy featuring a woman's whose past catches up to her... She's enlisted the help of Harry Mortonson, retired Sheriff and it almost costs Harry his life...



It was his defensive driving and his police training that saved his life. Harry glanced in the mirror and saw the brown pickup behind him. It wasn’t a four-wheel-drive, which raised a red flag in his mind immediately. Most pickups in Minnesota were four-bys. Because they were driving due north, the sun was on his right side. And because they were on the bridge there were no obstructions to hinder the sunlight. Harry caught a glimpse of an intent male face, brownish-gold hair and a gun balanced on top of the steering wheel, aimed at him.

He pulled his Glock out of his shoulder holster, setting it on the seat next to him. Then he tugged out his mobile phone, opened it and set it beside the Glock. He looked to the right and saw heavy construction equipment. On his left was a green minivan. Ahead of him a small white Honda was slowing down as the traffic neared the lower-speed zone. Harry glanced in the rear view mirror, seeing the man and the gun.

Donaldson. The sun illuminated the face just enough so Harry could identify him. He focused on the road. It widened to three lanes ahead, but only briefly because the far right lane started as an on-ramp, ending as an off-ramp. Traffic was always faster there as cars jockeyed for position merging on and off the road.

Harry stayed in the now-center lane, glancing at the brown pickup truck behind him as the man maneuvered into the far right lane. Harry had expected it. He picked up his phone and punched the panic button. When the 911 operator came on, he said, “Shots fired, I-35E, near Randolph exit. Shooter is in a brown pickup truck, two-wheel drive, white side stripe.”

Every ramp had traffic cameras positioned overhead. Harry was hoping they’d get a clear shot of the license plate. That would give the State Patrol the head start they’d need to catch Donaldson. Harry closed the phone and put his hand over the Glock on the seat next to him.

He glanced to his right. Donaldson’s left arm was raised, grasping the steering wheel. Then Harry saw the gun, nestled in the crook of Donaldson’s left arm, held by the right hand. Donaldson’s driver’s side window was rolled down. Harry looked around. Traffic was moving smoothly and there were no bright taillights in sight. He picked up the Glock and leveled it at Donaldson, his hand steady. Then he punched the button for the window control and his passenger window rolled down.

Donaldson’s eyes widened when he saw Harry was armed. Harry was counting on it. Harry’s finger tightened on the Glock’s trigger and Donaldson suddenly sped up, the brown pickup shooting ahead of Harry’s truck. Harry managed to change lanes and get behind Donaldson.

Then Donaldson switched lanes again and suddenly the brown pickup was on Harry’s left. Harry had to set the Glock down to manipulate the buttons for the windows. He started to lower his driver’s side window when a bullet shattered the small window on his truck’s extended cab back seat. He instinctively ducked as fragments showered around him and his truck wobbled on the snowy road surface. Harry tapped the brakes as he groped for his gun even though he knew he couldn’t respond with gunfire. If he did hit Donaldson’s truck, it would cause such a massive traffic accident people would inevitably be injured. He raised the gun anyway, though, and turned his head.

Donaldson drove with his left hand on the wheel and the gun pointed straight out the shattered passenger window on the brown pickup truck, right at Harry. Harry slowed his truck and Donaldson slowed too, the gun never wavering. Harry raised his eyes and for a split second stared into Donaldson’s face. The eyes were cold and hard. His face looked carved from ice and was so dispassionate Harry wondered if he was even alive.

Donaldson’s finger tightened on the trigger as he took his foot off the gas, letting his pickup truck slow. Then Harry tapped his brakes again and suddenly the brown pickup was ahead of him on the left. Harry tapped his brakes again, hearing sirens in the distance—lots of sirens. The shoulders of the roads here were big enough to accommodate a bus during rush hour and Harry had no doubt it could handle a few squad cars.

Taillights flared on the cars in front of him. Harry put on his right turn signal, inching his way into the off-ramp lane. Donaldson was in the far left lane, hemmed in by cars with no way to get out. Traffic was slowing as the sirens sounded ahead and behind. Harry managed to get into the exit lane just as a patrol car came up on the far left shoulder. He caught a glimpse of Donaldson’s brown pickup jumping into the shoulder lane and speeding off.

Harry stopped at the top of the off-ramp and looked down at the interstate, clogged with cars. He realized it was cold in his truck. He rolled up the windows, then frowned at the missing back rear window. “Shit. One more errand to run today.”

Now available in a paper edition at Amazon!

They say Thomas Hillyer, a wizard, is in league with the Devil and that the white buck roaming his estate hypnotizes people and steals their souls. Molly is a fugitive, wanted for a crime she did not commit. Seeing a want ad for a secretary in a sleepy town, she sets off for White Buck Hall but ignores the warning about the albino stag who lurks in the woods. When she meets him on the forest path, her life is forever changed.

Except from The Fiend of White Buck Hall
by Penelope Marzec
Published by New Concepts Publishing


Still trembling, she walked back to the desk and picked up the candlestick. She hated the taste of fear in her mouth. If only she could be rid of it!

The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, but she used the poker and found a coal hot enough to relight the candle. When the wick caught, she took in an unsteady breath and stared at the soft, white-yellow glow. The gentle and comforting flame reminded her of the color of Thomas’s hair and eased away the memory of the buck’s hypnotic red eyes.

She returned to the desk and gazed fearfully at the letter opener. Gritting her teeth, she reached for it but her fingers hovered above the small implement and she could not force herself to take another chance. Irritated by her own fear, she kicked the locked desk drawer with her foot.

She let out a squeal of anger and pain. Immediately, the door to the office opened. She went numb with terror when Thomas stood in the doorway glowering at her. With her blurry vision, it seemed his eyes had an evil glow in the shadows cast by the candle.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

She felt as if her breath had been cut off. She couldn’t say anything and her mind was in such a jumble that any coherent thoughts had fled.

He stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him. His powerful presence dominated the office. “If you’re looking for money, you won’t find any. I’m not a fool.”

He wore a rough hunting coat and carried a rifle in one hand. The scents of the woods clung to him—the same mossy earth odors that had enveloped her during that odd spell when she had touched the letter opener. She glanced at it again. Was she losing her mind? Had the stress of the past month been too much for her?

She swallowed hard. “I—I was looking for my letters.”

“You won’t find them here.”

“I—I didn’t know if you burned them or not. You handed me the ribbon without saying anything.”

He moved with the stealth of an animal to the side of the window and peered out from the edge of the drape. “I did not burn them.”

She held her head as a wave of wooziness threatened her. “Then may I have them back, please?”

“They are missing.” He put the drape back in place and took the corduroy cap off his head.

“Did … someone take them?”

“I thought the doctor had taken them, but when I stopped at his house tonight, he was unable to answer any questions.”

“Why not?”

“Because I found him with a knife in his back.”

She stifled a gasp with her hand.

He came up close to her, so close she could see the hard lines chiseled into his face. “What was in those letters?”

Though tormented by a tumble of confusion and fear, she struggled to retain her pride. “Nothing … important.” She hoped he did not catch the faint edge of hysteria in her tone. She must get away from him. She stood up, holding onto the edge of the desk.

“Was Filmont your lover?”

“No!” Heat burned on her cheeks.

“Then what happened between you and him?” His voice rumbled low and deep furrows appeared in his brow.

She rushed toward the door, grabbed the knob, and tried to turn it this way and that—but it was locked! Breathing hard, she whirled to face him. With her back to the door, she found him but a foot away from her. Much too close.

He had shed his rough hunting coat. “Tell me the truth.”

She shook her head. She could feel the heat of his body and despite her fear, her senses leapt to life.

“What did you do?” He lifted her chin with his index finger and she inhaled sharply. Drugged by the primitive scent of him, she knew she should do all she could to escape, but her body refused to budge.

“I … I … haven’t done anything.”

He leaned closer and she felt his warm breath against her neck. “Did you intend to use that letter opener on me?”

The emotions raging inside her took away her power to speak.

He shifted closer. His thigh brushed against her hip. Her legs trembled and she feared she would not be able to stand.

As if he guessed her need, his hands moved to pull her firmly against him. She splayed her hands against his chest but she discovered she did not want to push away. Her fingers quivered as she slid them across the width of his shirt. She could feel the racing of his powerful heart beneath his corded muscles.

“You are tempting me and that is a dangerous thing to do.”

Watch the book video at www.penelopemarzec.com

Available AGAIN at a new lower price...

The award winning erotic Regency short story...


Lady Sophie's Midnight Seduction
By Dorothy McFalls
$0.99

BLURB:

Lady Sophie, a self-avowed spinster, has been happy with her independence for many years...that is until Lord Benton-Black enters her world. Now she finds her nights haunted by this man who is determined to seduce her and make her his wife.

**2006 Ecataromance Reviewers' Choice Award Nominee**
**Road To Romance Recommended Read**
"The story was so satisfying, so perfect." ~ The Romance Studio

EXCERPT:

His cruel hands held her down, pinning her to the feather mattress in her own bedchamber. Lady Sophie struggled with all her strength until she was completely tangled up in the flimsy material of her nightrail. In desperation, she choked on a sob. There was nothing she could do...nothing, but submit.

What a fate for the daughter of an earl! Though her father had never cared to spend more than a few moments a year in her presence, she had always had the protection of his name...but perhaps she not even had that any longer. He was gone now. He had died over a year ago, leaving her the London town house and her mother's jewels...neither of which could help her escape this nightmare.

His face was hidden in the shadows, yet she knew his identity without question. He was the same gentleman who had followed her across Hyde Park when she'd gone riding with Lord Griffon last Tuesday. His dark gaze had troubled the back of her neck until she'd turned and spotted him. There were other times she had caught him, lurking like a phantom, watching her as she flitted from one man's arm to another. His heavy brows always furrowed. His lips always pulled into a deep frown.

Was it a month ago now that he'd brashly entered her parlor during an at-home? She'd swiftly refused his advances and turned him out.

And now he had returned and was here...in her bed.

Buy from Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20416
Also available at Amazon and coming soon to Barnes and Noble and Sony.

Visit Dorothy's website to read about other Regency reads she has available in ebook including:

TAKEN BY MOONLIGHT (Cobblestone Press) Regency Shifter Erotic Romance
THE MARRIAGE LIST (Signet Regency) RT Top Pick!
THE NUDE (Five Star) Kiss of Death Daphne finalist
LADY IONA'S REBELLION Romance Reviews Today Perfect 10!

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Elaine's relationship with her office assistant went from a normal friendship to lovers, and they are both struggling to find the balance between their professional and personal lives together. Steve wants to take things public, but Elaine is worried about possible complications. So he decides to show her who's boss, with a little help from her submissive nature and a sexy new toy in Michelle Houston's "Butterfly's Effect."

In D Musgrave's "Jewels of Desire," Sabrina receives a special set of intimate jewelry. Intrigued by the possibilities, she decides to wear it to work. Can she maintain her composure while fighting the urge to give in to the desires the jewelry inspires?

Now available from Phaze!
11,500 words
$3.99


Check out D Musgrave's website

Check out Michelle Houston's website


Excerpt from Butterfly's Effect:

Elaine stepped lightly through the open elevator doors and worked hard on keeping her steps steady. During the long ride up to the fourteenth floor, she pressed against the side wall, pinned in place by a group of lawyers from the offices just a few floors up, and her own co-workers. With her still-stinging ass brushing against the wall, and with each lurch and sway of the elevator car as they stopped on every damned floor, she was ready to scream by the time the doors slid open.

Ass tingling, she no sooner managed to settle in her chair than a brief knock preceded her assistant. “Today you’ve got a pretty light schedule. Baker at nine-thirty, Martin and Addams at eleven. You have a staff meeting at eleven forty-five, and then after lunch you’ve got a board meeting. Then Mills wants to see you about that whole marketing fiasco from last week.”

As Steve paced about the room, briefing her on the messages she needed to personally attend and the various details that needed her oversight, she watched him. She savored the flex of his muscles under his dress shirt and slacks, the way his ass cheeks clenched tighter when he turned on his heel to come back toward her. This was the moment she loved: the frontal view of his cock outlined in subtle display by his tailored pants.

When she noticed he had stopped moving and talking, she jerked her gaze up to his face. A slight smile curled his lips, which was her only warning. Moments later, a faint tingling started in her pussy as the butterfly strapped against her clit buzzed to life. Clenching her teeth, she held back a moan as her pussy throbbed and clamored for release.

Almost as suddenly as it flipped on, it turned off, and Steve went back to listing her itinerary.

Elaine wanted to bite his head off for torturing her, but she secretly thrilled in it. Not that she would ever admit it out loud—at least, not in the office. When her affair with Steve began almost a year before, they had gone from being co-workers and best friends of almost ten years to lovers, then Dom/sub. He knew the unspoken rules, that at the office she was in charge. In fact, he seemed to revel in it, letting her boss him around and deal with the day to day crap.

Alone together in the evenings, he stripped the trappings of the corporate world from her piece by piece, and showed her who was truly in charge. And she loved it.

“Also, your doctor called. She said to tell you whatever you have been doing, keep it up. Your blood pressure is down to very nice levels, and your cholesterol has truly done a turn-around.”

Elaine managed to clench her hands around the arms of her chair in time, before the faint buzzing started in her groin again. Riding the waves, she tipped back in her chair, very aware that Steve wasn’t going to let her get anywhere near an orgasm.

As the butterfly clicked off again, she couldn’t stop herself from gasping out, “Good.”

“She did express curiosity as to what had changed, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her. The poor woman would probably have had a heart attack.”

“Ha!” Elaine managed to restrain the unladylike snort that wanted to follow. “You don’t know the old battle-axe. She’d probably kidnap you and keep you chained up in her bedroom if she knew.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed and Elaine took a deep breath, expecting the buzzing to start up again. Instead, he turned on his heel and exited the office, the door closing behind him with a firm snap.

Glancing at the clock, she decided to turn her attention to the current business at hand. She had several pages of background information to wade through before Baker showed up.

It took some arguing and biting her tongue, but Elaine had almost gotten Baker to understand that some things just take time when her intercom buzzed. Picking up the phone, she asked, “Yes?”

“You’re almost fifteen minutes behind schedule and Martin’s getting impatient.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” Without any further fanfare, she hung up the phone knowing Steve wouldn’t take it as a slight. He had worked with her long enough to expect a certain curtness when she was dealing with a pompous jackass like Baker.

Another five minutes passed, and she was just about to slam her hand on her desk when a faint buzzing started between her legs. Gasping, she rocked forward and tried to get Baker out of her office. She could feel her clit tingling with each pulse, and her nerves were already on edge from trying to get a man used to his own way to see that she couldn’t work miracles.

As the butterfly picked up its pace, she gave up and went direct. “Mr. Baker, I truly am sorry that you feel that way. I wish I could make things happen at a faster pace, but unfortunately I can’t. Now, I hate to be rude, but I have another meeting waiting and we’ve been at this for two hours now. Nothing has changed from when you walked in. The art department takes time to put things together.”

He grumbled, but when she walked as smoothly as she could to her office door, he followed. As soon as she swung her door open, the butterfly stopped. Pausing to glare as Steve, she motioned her other clients into her office.

After that, one meeting flowed into the other, and she found herself sitting at her desk, starving, when the last meeting concluded.

A quick look at her watch showed that lunch time had actually come and gone, and the meeting with the entire staff was only thirty minutes away when she finally managed to get off the phone with a client who insisted she speak to her. As she hung up, the door to her office swung open again.

Steve came in carrying a take-out bag. She didn’t know which she wanted more--him, or the food. When he set it down on her desk and opened it to reveal a sandwich from her favorite deli, she had her answer. Stomach growling, she greedily reached for the food, mumbling a thank you as she opened the wrapper and started devouring it.

A look of amusement painted Steve’s face, rather than displeasure at her rudeness. Smiling, he sat down in the chair opposite her and watched her eat, his gaze trailing over her. First, they lingered on her lips as she wrapped them around the straw and took a quick drink of her soda. His stare moved down to her breasts, causing her nipples to harden. Aware of his heated gaze, she tried to focus her attention on the file in front of her, needing to concentrate before she begged him to fuck her senseless.

All throughout the day, he had been playing with the wireless remote, randomly turning on the butterfly just long enough to arouse her, then switching it off. She had almost lost her composure when it had flipped on during her meeting with Martin and Addams, but thankfully both men were so wrapped up in their complaints that hadn’t noticed the uncontrollable flush of her skin and the faint changes to her voice, or any other hints of anything untoward going on.

Now that she had a few moments to eat, she was going to take advantage of the reprieve to her pussy. No way was he going to risk her choking by playing with his little remote. Instead, he waged a silent and almost more deadly war--he was playing with her head.

His eyes, so vibrant and blue, watched each inhalation. His complete attention focused on her.

“Ellie,” he whispered, the sound breaking the silence in the room.

She took the last bite of her sandwich, needing the moment to calm her racing pulse before answering him. “Yes?”

“I really think that you need to step into the bathroom.” As he stood, she could see the tent his erection made in his slacks. Mesmerized, she watched as he stroked a hand down the front of the material, stroking along the edge of his cock.

Looking up, her gaze caught on his, and she found herself helpless to resist. It was a dangerous game they were playing, him pushing her past her comfort level, blending their personal life with their professional one, until she really couldn’t see the divide anymore. The line was blurring, and she was helpless to stop it.

Steve seemed determined that she was going to accept his proposal, and she was growing weaker each day. She wanted to be able to shout from the rooftops of her love for him, but she worried about the implications at work. So, Steve had decided to show her that it wouldn’t adversely affect either of their careers.

Legs trembling, she pushed back her chair and stood, moving into the bathroom on autopilot. Steve followed close behind, and shut the door with a soft click. As soon as he threw the lock, Elaine felt the change in herself. Breathless, she waited, no longer in control. If she ever had been in the first place. Maybe it had all been an illusion.

“Lift up your skirt.”

~Blurb~



Dotschy's in love with a cross dresser. No, not in love. It's just spring fever. Really it is...

After a rough break up, Dotschy doesn't want to think about love everlasting. When spring comes around and she can't stop smiling at Connor the sweet and sensitive semi-closet trans-curious sometimes-cross-dresser, she convinces herself it's just infatuation. That doesn't stop her from wanting him though. It doesn't stop her from getting him either.



~Excerpt~

Connor, dressed as a woman, stood before me in a light pink sweater with
pearly plastic buttons down the front. It was the type of sweater a
mommy picks out for her little girl. That’s the spirit in which Connor
dressed himself. Sure, he had plenty of life experience as a man, but
he was a novice female. His skirt was a more mature tweedy grey shot
with pink, slit in the back and just covering his knees. Did he shave
his legs? I couldn’t tell, what with the pantyhose. His shoes matched
his sweater. His nails matched his sweater. Connor pulled off the look
beautifully. He looked almost elegant in his black Kiss of the Spider
Woman wig. His boobs were generous, but he had a natural paunch to
match. Despite his height, he didn’t look curiously tall. He looked
perfect, actually. His glasses were the same pair he wore as a man.
They suited him both ways.

Soft. That was Connor dressed as a
woman. He was soft. Soft pinks, soft body, soft curves. I ran my
hand across his cheek. That was soft too. No trace of stubble. Before
I arrived at his house, I’d wondered if I would be as attracted to
Connor dressed as a woman as I was to Connor dressed as a man. “You
look beautiful.” I kissed his smooth cheek, lingering close. Those
sparkling blue eyes were Connor. The clothes were different, but the
person was the same. I would easily have made out with him, and not
just to see if passers-by would throw stuff at us.

“You look
fabulous, dear,” he said. His voice lilted, neither high nor low.


“Fabulous?” I chuckled. “Honey, you’re a woman, you’re not gay! Try
‘lovely’ or ‘gorgeous.’”

He leaned in close. Into my ear, he
whispered, “Dotschy, you’re gorgeous.”

Talk Dirty to Me is my first Ellora's Cave Quickie and thus far my most successful book. The first month it outsold all others! This quickie has received rave reviews at Manic Readers, Seriously Reviewed, My Overstuffed Bookshelf and Whipped Cream Erotic Reviews. Discover short isn't always a bad thing by checking out this sexy story!

Excerpt -

If you enjoy historical romance, you may like my medieval historical romance, A KNIGHT'S VOW, published by Kensington Zebra and given 5 red roses, 4.5 Blue Ribbons and 4 stars.

You can read reviews and buy from from this page at Lindsay's Book Chat.


Here's an EXCERPT, where Guillelm teaches Alyson to swim - with arousing results:


That stopped him in mid-rage, as she hoped it would.

‘Truly?’ He paused in mid-stream, his feet rocking on the river pebbles. ‘For all your clever book learning, there is something I know that you do not?’

‘Will you teach me?’ The words were out before she could drag them back. I must be more shaken than I thought, Alyson reflected, appalled at her own question. Each time she was in Guillelm’s arms she forgot herself: it was a dangerous habit.

‘We should feed the merlin,’ she went on, but the hawk, which had been Guillelm’s great concern all that morning, was no longer a distraction. He merely grinned at her in that way of his that always made her feel as if her heart was suddenly lifted and jammed into her throat and said lightly, ’I will tend the spoiled little brute, while you prepare yourself.’ He raised a thick gold eyebrow. ’If you are certain you want me to teach you. My men will tell you I am a lethal task-master.’

‘Hard work never frightens me.’

She was no longer shivering but languid in his arms, smiling at him with absolute trust. Guillelm had a sudden, disturbing vision of himself as tutor, pulling a squirming Alyson over his lap while he applied a school-masterly discipline to her pert backside. He flushed, ashamed of his thoughts - Heloise was surely right about him - and plucked at the clinging sleeve of her gown. ‘You cannot swim in that,’ he remarked, determinedly averting his eyes from her bodice. The water had sculptured Alyson’s clothes to her closer than a second skin, making him even more acutely conscious of his own aroused state. Fervently he wished the river was cold, blanketed with ice.

‘What is the salve for ear-ache?’ he asked desperately as he attacked the gently shelving slope of the riverbank. Perhaps hearing her voice would bring him to reason, or at least be a comfort. Part of him was still grasping the dreadful marvel of her too-near escape from death.

‘I have heard doctors swear by blood-letting and a tincture of mercury, poured into the ear. But for myself, I have found the gently warmed oil of the olive a good remedy.'

‘And for backache?’

‘A hot bath to start.’ Alyson broke off, frowning at her dripping plait and checking with a swift downward glance that she had not lost her shoes. ’Why all these cures? Are you going to shout at me so much or make me swim this river to the sea?’

‘Worse.’ Guillelm deposited her onto the grass. ’I am going to make you as hungry as the hawk.’

She chuckled, that warm, throaty giggle that made him want to kiss her. ’So ’tis well Sir Tom gave us generous provender. Do we eat first or later?'

‘Later,’ said Guillelm. The day was warm - more than warm, blisteringly hot, with a humidity than put Guillelm in mind of the East. It was airless under the trees by the river, or perhaps that was just him, he thought, as he kept busy, feeding the merlin, checking their horses, while Alyson shrugged off her soaking gown. It was at least a good day for a new swimmer, he told himself, tempted to ask if she needed help while he counted moorhen and coots with their young: bits of dark fluff swimming earnestly along the far riverbank. In these shallows the water would be perfect. He heard her splash into the river and swallowed, his ears buzzing with heat and barely-thwarted desire.

‘I am ready.’ She was sculling the water with her hands. Would she be naked? No, for she was already growing nervous, perhaps even regretting her impulsive suggestion. ’Guillelm, do you think this is right? I mean is it seemly?’

‘Why not?’ He turned to reassure her and almost laughed: Alyson had sat down in the shallows and he could see little of her. ’We are after all betrothed.’

‘I have spread my gown on the hazel to dry.’ She pointed and he could see she was still wearing her under-shift; a modest choice. ’Will you swim as you are?’

‘My stuff dries fast.’ His clothes were little enough of a barrier but they were something, a reminder he needed that Alyson was an innocent. Or is she? muttered Fulk in the baser recesses of his mind, a thought he resolutely thrust away. He strode to the river, willing himself to be a perfect gentle knight while he felt anything but chivalrous.

Be a lady, Alyson thought, both relieved and disappointed when Guillelm stalked into the river fully clothed. He was so swift-moving when he needed to be that she forgot his size, but now he was beside her again he towered over her, an eagle to her merlin. And how that gift of Sir Tom’s had caused trouble! They were a good half mile or more off the recognized track through these woods and both them had endured a wetting. Fulk will wonder what we have been doing, she thought, but then she forgot him in the face of Guillelm’s grim stare. Perhaps he dislikes this, perhaps I have been too forward. The fears scurried through her mind like dandelion clocks blowing in the breeze as she tried not to shrink from him.

‘Peace, girl.’ Kneeling in the water beside her, he had spotted her slight movement. Alyson, knowing him sensitive to the point of wariness over her possible dread of him, was tempted to slap the river back into his scowling face, to prove she was in no way scared. Had she been younger she might have done so, but at one and twenty she knew she ought to have more finesse.

‘Did you swim the rivers in Outremer?’ Not a very original question, but when Guillelm was apt to make her tongue-tied Alyson was proud she had managed so much.

‘There are no such streams as these in the east.’ An evasive answer, made more mysterious by the ready stain of color that bloomed along Guillelm’s jaw line and chin. ‘What is that strange scent? Like a spice or perfume.’

He did not think it was anything to do with her, Alyson noted, disappointed, but she breathed in deeply. ‘It is fennel,’ she answered, nodding towards the bank where a stand of the tall, yellow flowers swayed among the cobwebbed beauty of the white elder blossom. ‘I use it in eye-baths and for the colic. I dare say you have forgotten it, being so long away.’

‘And those birds?’ he asked, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made Alyson click her tongue.

‘Ducks, and you know it, you big oaf.’

‘Oaf, am I?’ He lifted his feet from the river pebbles and stretched, floating full length on his back on the sparkling, tranquil surface. ’Can you do this?’

She set to his challenge at once, only to sink as she tried to follow his example, wallowing in an ignominious stream of bubbles onto the sandy base of the stream.

‘Steady, little swimmer. Up with you.’ Two hands buoyed her to the surface, their strong palms supporting her across her shoulder blades and the small of her back. ‘Relax. Imagine you are a bird and this water is the air beneath your wings. It will carry you easily. See?’

Here's the BLURB:

England, 1138. Set against the dangerous backdrop of the crusades, this sweeping romance captures the story of a beautiful, young woman and the dashing knight who will battle his fiercest enemies to win her undying love...

Ever since she was fourteen, Alyson of Olverton dreamed of marrying a brave, charismatic young knight. His name was Guillelm de la Rochelle and his marriage proposal satisfied her deepest yearnings. But her father forbade their union, prompting Guillelm to set out for the Holy Land, breaking Alyson's innocent heart. Seven years later, the valiant knight has defied rumors of his death and returned home, having no idea that nothing is the same as when he left...

Back from fighting in the crusades, Guillelm is stunned to find Alyson entrenched in his father's ancestral castle even worse she was betrothed to his father before he died. Despite this chilling fact, Guillelm finds himself struggling to resist the temptation to seduce her. Torn between intense jealousy and overwhelming desire, he shocks them both by proposing marriage a second time, justifying that it will be easier to keep her safe if she is his bride. Little do they know, however, that there is an enemy in their very midst one who won't rest until he destroys their chance at everlasting love...


Lindsay Townsend, historical romance. http://www.lindsaytownsend.net

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