New Release: Lakeland Heatwave Book 3: Elemental Fire by K D Grace

by | Feb 25, 2013 | | 0 Comments

Elemental FireLAKELAND HEATWAVE BOOK 3: ELEMENTAL FIRE

K D GRACE

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

More buy links added here as they become available: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/lakeland-heatwave-book-3-elemental-fire/

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

*****

Excerpt:

The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’

Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.

She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’

And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.

‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole. Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.

****

‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’

Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’

The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Guest Blogger: Victoria Blisse

by | Feb 22, 2013 | | 0 Comments

Vanilla with Extra NutsMore than Ice Cream

We’ve all heard the term  ‘vanilla’ in contexts other than an ice cream flavour. So it comes as no surprise that my latest release Vanilla with Extra Nuts isn’t an ice cream recipe book!

She’s just a vanilla girl until she finds her perfect toppings.

Megan is slowly falling in love with Adam until he confesses he’s seeing a guy behind her back. She thinks the relationship has been ruined until the night she indulges in a threesome with the man she loves and Simon, his lover.

As much as she enjoys being sandwiched between the two men she’s not sure the arrangement can last. So Megan has to decide.

Can she come to terms with sharing the man she adores with his male lover or will she have to say goodbye to her soulmate forever?

No, it’s something far tastier. Megan is a simple girl with simple desires and she’s completely blown away when she discovers her boyfriend is far more complex than she first thought. I really enjoyed discovering new things with Megan and it’s why I ended up titling the book as I did. It felt like she was discovering new favourites. So when you’ve got your favourite ice-cream flavour and you want to find the perfect toppings to go on it. I personally think you can’t go wrong with sprinkles on any flavour ice cream! What’s your favourite ice cream topping?

Megan discovers her favourite is extra nuts, here’s a scorching hot excerpt to illustrate that:

His breath caressed my wet lips and my clit perked up under its soft, arousing caress. I don’t think I breathed for a minute or more as I waited. Then as his mouth pressed against my plump lips I let it all out in one long moan. As his tongue lapped against me, bumping my sensitive flesh and my eager clit, I gasped and pushed my hips up. I felt the restriction of Adam’s leg keenly as I tried to press more of my hungering pussy to the very talented lips and tongue rubbing me in all the right ways.

Adam kissed me, cutting off my moans and muffling my gasps. Two tongues invaded me and teased me to the very heights of ecstasy. I was overloaded with the different touches and strokes over my body and I knew in a matter of moments I would explode. Then Simon stopped and I think I whimpered.

“Not yet, love, not yet.” Simon cooed and winked at me as I pouted down at him. “Damn, you and Adam make a fan-fucking-tastic cocktail. I always thought you would. I want to drink from your freshly fucked pussy on a regular basis now. It’s addictive.” I blushed but I smiled too. However, the smile was soon replaced as my jaw dropped. Simon parted Adam’s thighs and placed his juice covered lips around the very hard cock of my boyfriend. I’ve never seen a man give a blowjob before, nope never, so as well as being as hot as hell I found watching Simon’s technique very enlightening.

He used his hands to tease and stroke Adam’s balls almost constantly and he kept up a steady rhythm. I ran a finger through my sticky folds as I watched eagerly and took note. Simon pulled away suddenly and it was Adam’s turn to whimper with disappointment.

“You know I love your cock, baby,” Simon purred, “but right now I want to feel that gorgeous pussy wrapped around my dick. You don’t mind, do you, buddy?”

“No, no, I completely understand. Go ahead man, fuck her. I can see she’s gagging for it.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief at the way Adam just treated me like some kind of possession, but I said nothing because I really did want to be fucked and I was, as he’d said, gagging for it. Simon moved back between my thighs and leaned over to the bedside table. He opened the little drawer and pulled out a condom. Obviously he was used to Adam’s habits and for a minute I felt the old feelings of jealousy and upset overcoming me, but as Simon sat back on his heels, peeled open the packet, and rolled the condom over his thick cock I forgot all that and the lust over took my emotions once again.

Adam pressed his cheek against mine as we both craned our necks to watch Simon’s cock press between my lips. I felt so cherished, so sexy in that moment as one hot guy slipped inside of me and another held me close in his arms. Adam and I both watched enraptured for a few moments as Simon’s cock worked in and out of my slippery cunt. I was on fire, my cheeks and my chest were enflamed with heat. I tingled all over, my skin so sensitive every subtle touch brought me ever closer to orgasm.

Adam kissed me and his hand ran down over my stomach. I closed my eyes and concentrated on his lips on mine. It was such a strange sensation to have one man fuck you and one man kiss you, but it was good and something I wanted to experience again and again. I groaned when his fingers slipped down to my clit. As Simon fucked me Adam rubbed me just how I liked.

Adam’s lips left mine and again we were cheek to cheek watching what happened between my thighs. I found it hard to hold my eyes open, the pleasure grew in intensity and I didn’t want to miss one moment of this amazing experience. But eventually the sensations became too much and the ecstasy shot through me with such power my eyelids rattled shut as a desperate, orgasmic scream ripped from me.

Pick up your copy from:

Amazon US
Amazon UK
All Romance eBooks

*****

Victoria-Blisse-smallVictoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut by the Sea Event taking place at Scarborough Library (UK) on the 22nd June 2013. A day dedicated to Erotica with a mini erotic marketplace and lots of Author Readings, Fun Giveaways and Exciting Talks.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB’s Resident “Naked Chef”) and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.

Guest Blogger: Joelle Casteel

by | Feb 19, 2013 | | 4 Comments

Not going to write an introduction in 3rd person- it’s quite a struggle for me- I guess my Master did too good a job impressing upon me the fact that He hates submissives talking about themselves in 3rd person. I’m one of those who started writing as soon as teachers gave me the tools to write. I came to BDSM erotica as a teen with a flexible sexual orientation and way more experience than most my age. I just have one book out now: “Out of the Night: Book One.” It’s the first book of a proposed 9 book series called “Vala’s Story.”

—

So I will start this post with a story I’ve told in a few ways, a few times in the last few months. In September 2012, I started reading widely… from the ROMANCE category. gasp! Most people who know me would be horrified, concerned at this. Joelle reading romance novels? Has she found some secret sub-genre that has nothing to do with mainstream publishers like Harlequin that have absolutely nothing to do with her reality? Surprisingly, I had. When I’d turned my back on the romance genre back when I was in my late teens, there was no such thing as “erotic romance” as far as I knew. You wrote romance, stuff that could be sold in the grocery store, or erotica, stuff that would only be sold in the “adult bookstore.” Since then the Internet has exploded and I found two wonderful things- not only had erotica been accepted under the “romance” banner, but a variety of online publishers are specializing in erotic books of many sub-genres. During my search of these sub-genres, I found an even more amazing thing: people were writing “spanking fiction” books, often following the practices of “Domestic Discipline” in them. While I’d tried to find out more about DD on my own, wandering the Internet myself had been pretty fruitless. However I came across Sue Lyndon’s “Dark Without You” on bn.com and bought it. Read it that first day, and again a few more times- my Master enjoyed the fruits of my reading.

That’s when a whole new world opened for me. I wandered to Sue’s blog and followed her blog roll to dozens of other blogs. I read, commented. Then I started making friends with these women- yes, many of the spanking fiction authors are women, just like the romance genre as a whole. When I started asking questions about domestic discipline and loving the answers, that’s when I knew I’d found somewhere I belonged. I’ve had plenty of conversations about the differences between DD and BDSM, but I often find myself saying, “Well maybe that’s BDSM for others, but not for me!” There are so many things I love about DD and how it’s most often shown in spanking fiction. Just the name for the “submissive” partner in the relationship: “taken in hand.” Wow! First time I read that, it made me weak in the knees. And well it did other things that my Master enjoyed :D.

I’ve taken my first tentative steps to writing my own spanking fiction. I decided to work with a male/female/female polyamorous triad; I’m told by other spanking fiction authors that polyamory is underrepresented. I hope I write something a publisher likes.

—

picisto-20130126171246-872580Restless and world-weary, Mearr isn’t about to admit she needs anyone’s help, even this gorgeous man who has taken her into his home. Well one of his homes and part of this huge family she’s heard about but not met all of. She’s young, looks young, and knows it but at least she’s legal now so she can pick a new name to go with her new life…

The Queen knows he wants Mearr bad, ever since the first time he saw her in the window of the coffeehouse. He has his plan, but even a Dominant’s plans don’t always survive the unpredictability of the future. He struggles to figure out this temperamental woman he’s brought home, how best to help her. Then he takes her to his mansion…

They wait patiently for The Queen to bring Mearr home. Well to the home they’ve been redecorating for Him and for the hopes that she’ll become part of their family and be trained to please Him. Simon and Tommy have seen her, of course, being The Queen’s right and left hands; they say she’ll be a perfect addition…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: Mirabella’s Mardi Gras Ménage by Louisa Bacio

by | Feb 18, 2013 | | 5 Comments

Mardi Gras MenageConstantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.

What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.

Available from:
Ravenous Romance
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

And all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

“What are you doing living here?” she asked.

He’d asked himself that question many times over in the past few months. Nick had been used to living with others for all of his life. Being alone was quite different.

“After Silver and I broke up, it didn’t feel right to keep living with Lawrence, Trevor, and Lily,” he explained.

She nodded, her eyes clearing as more time passed. “I can understand that, but I’m surprised Lawrence let you go.”

“As my sire, he can pretty much watch me wherever I’m living. I’m sure if I were to go off the deep end, he’d get some type of psychic notice,” Nick explained. “It’s strange. It feels like I don’t have privacy at times, and at others I’m totally alone.”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Over the past two years of knowing Mirabella, Nick didn’t quite know what to think of her. She’d always been in the presence of her aunt, who was quite overpowering. Mentally, it was hard to separate memories of the two of them. The one time he had rescued her with Trevor, Mirabella had been totally passed out—under the influence of some other type of drug, or spell, or supernatural creature. In other words, she’d definitely not been herself.

“So how come we keep meeting this way?” Nick teased. “You always seem to be running into trouble.”

“Let’s just say I’m not very street smart,” she said. “Tante Teresa has kept me isolated a bit too much. Don’t know how to make it on my own in such large crowds, but I’m starting to feel like I need to escape the prison of her watchful eye.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a way to experience it,” Nick said. “It’s not full Mardi Gras yet, but these crowds building up to those events are almost as bad. You have to be careful on the streets.”

“I’m learning that. It’s a much different world to be out there than in the store.”

“I can’t believe Teresa let you out either. She’s gotta know what it’s like out there.”

A flush brightened Mirabella’s cheeks, and Nick thought about how gorgeous she looked in his bed, the contrast of her darker skin tone to the pale blue sheets. With all the mixed-breed genetics in New Orleans, both of them looked to be of Creole heritage. True, his coloring was a bit more pale now that he was dead and all. Mirabella’s skin shimmered in the moonlight.

“I might have slipped out while she slept,” she admitted. “The lure of the music drew me out, and I wanted to see what it was like.”

Nick was experiencing a lure all of his own. Her luscious lips drew him in. She caught him watching her, and she licked a droplet of water off her bottom lip. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she leaned toward him, her eyes half-mast.

Her breath smelled sweet, like fresh almonds mixed with vanilla. He shouldn’t kiss her. She was too young and too naïve. But while his head told him to step away, his desire took over, craving the physical connection.

At this moment, though, with her ensconced within his bed, the physical possibilities loomed endless. No one knew she was here. They could do whatever they desired.

Softly, his lips brushed against hers. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her in closer and holding her steady. He probed her mouth with his tongue, requesting entrance, and she more than willingly opened beneath him.

She sighed against his mouth. Warmth. Vitality. Life.

All the traits a beautiful young woman possessed and a vampire like him lacked.

“I’d better take you home,” he said, giving one last effort to be a gentleman.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best here,” he said. He made a move to get off the bed, and she followed him, her body curling into his. Her warmth enveloping him.

“Best for whom? Not you or me,” she said. “I want more of your kisses.”

 

*****

roadkilldress_webBio:

Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, the 1Night Stand A Date with Death and numerous steamy short stories.

Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit:

http://louisabacio.blogspot.com
http://www.louisabacio.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

*****

Mardi Gras Prize Package (ends 2/28/2013)

MirabellaPrizePackage

Mardi Gras package includes Kitchen Witch spices, beads, fleur di lis cookie cutter, mask, etouffee mix. Shipping to the U.S. Value is worth $20 + the cost of shipping. I reserve the right to substitute the prize in case product is not available. If the winner is international, they can choose a $15 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Guest Blogger: D E Close

by | Feb 16, 2013 | | 0 Comments

“All we need to do is keep fucking.”

thenewpupilI think of this play on the Pink Floyd song title “Keep Talking” as I prepare to put the finishing touches on my new book The Lust Series Part 2: The Reckoning. I am sitting in a Pret a Manger on 54th and Park in Midtown having a cappuccino and considering how to repay the beautiful, talented and gracious Lucy Felthouse for allowing me the privilege of this guest blog. First of all yes, they do have Pret in New York and yes I go there because I lived in London for most of my life and it reminds me of “home”. But now I live here, writing Pulp and Erotic fiction and I must say I’m constantly surrounded by potential inspiration. Take the woman who just walked in. She’s a tall, slim brunette, wearing a Burberry trench coat that is pulled tight. If this was one of the many bars I frequent in the evenings I would introduce myself, but in my hung-over state I cradle my coffee and try to guess what’s going on in her mind. Is she thinking about an affair she discovered her husband is having? Perhaps the boss she has constant flirtation with? Perhaps something less novel worthy like a new case of raging thrush or something mundane like what groceries to buy. That is the curse that all of us face as writers, a constant obsession with the thoughts of potential characters.

The woman looks at me and smiles, to some extent I am guilty of eye-fucking her but really I’m just thinking about my book, and this blog. And then it hits me. It was some years ago that I saw a show on TV about what it took to keep a relationship together over a number of years. As a writer who constantly dwells on the realistic nature of relationships and marriage I found this show particularly fascinating. Not because of the psychological analysis that bored me rigid but because each couple they interviewed included one simple factor that kept their relationships together. All of them, and I mean all of them said their secret was that they could fuck through anything. I think they meant challenges in their relationships as opposed to a hurricane or an earthquake, but it raised an interesting point and was a rare recognition of the power of sex in our relationships.

Now I realize in my case I am following their advice although I’m a single guy, but nevertheless I can’t help but think the celebration of erotica and all of you continuing to read books like my own and Lucy’s can only help stoke the fire that may keep yourselves in happy relationships, whatever that may mean for you. So the next time you’re having a coffee in Pret, think of me and remember if you’re in a relationship all you need to do is keep fucking.

D E Close’s book THE LUST SERIES PART ONE: THE NEW PUPIL is available on Amazon UK and Amazon US.

New Release: Identity Crisis by Grace Marshall

by | Jan 31, 2013 | | 0 Comments

Identity CrisisIDENTITY CRISIS

GRACE MARSHALL

Available from:
Xcite Books
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Other links will be added here as they become available: http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/books/identity-crisis/

Reclusive romance novelist Tess Delaney is the alter ego of Garrett Thorne, bad-boy brother of business tycoon Ellison Thorne. When Tess is nominated for the Golden Kiss Award, Garrett recruits PR specialist, Kendra Davis, to keep his secret and be Tess for the awards despite their mutual animosity. But when Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, an identity crisis is eclipsed by a battle for survival, and Tess Delaney, the woman who doesn’t exist, just might understand Kendra and Garrett’s hearts even better than they do.

*****

Excerpt:

Garrett felt like a naughty teenager as they sneaked out the back door, through the gate of the privacy fence and down the alley. He wore a shapeless track suit with the black hoodie pulled up over his head and a scruffy pair of Converse sneakers that weren’t exactly meant for dancing. And Kendra, well she hardly looked ratty, in his opinion. She wore low rider jeans, and where they weren’t hugging her body like a second skin, they were full of threadbare, flesh revealing holes. The black sweat top she wore was cut short enough to show a tantalizing flash of her navel and hips bones when she moved just right. It slid off one shoulder to reveal the thin lacy strap of a red bra. She wore all of her russet locks tucked up under a leather beret. Her fashion statement was topped off with black ankle boots. She looked very, very dangerous. And hot. Of course she didn’t need to dress the part for either, he thought. He was already certain on both counts.

‘You live a little closer to The Boiling Point than Dee does.’ She took his hand and nodded to where the alley T’ed with the street, and then gave way to the park on the other side. ‘She never goes there, of course. Well she did once, but that was just for Harris, then he hated it.’ She giggled. ‘God I wish I could have been there for that.’

‘Am I going to hate it?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Probably not. You’re much more of a bad boy than Harris is, or is that all an act?’

The long line of shiny chrome Harleys out front of the squat cinder block building gave Garrett the first clue that this was not Dancing with the Stars. Kendra waved them away absently. ‘The Boiling Point’s not really a biker bar, but it’s kind of the warm-up act, I suppose you could say. Lots of bikers start off here before they head on to their usual haunts. Makes for an exciting mix. Later in the night there are almost no bikers. But there are always lots of interesting people.’

Any other time, Garrett would have been up for meeting interesting people, but tonight he couldn’t imagine anyone interesting him more than the woman on his arm. He paid the fee at the door and a surly man the size of small house with fire-engine hair and a scruffy beard stamped their hands with a red ink TBP.

Inside a live band had just begun to play to a full, but not yet crowded house. ‘The place gets raided from time to time,’ Kendra said. ‘I don’t know what all goes on. I just come here because it’s interesting.’

‘A good raid and us carted off to the police station will really give the press something to talk about,’ Garrett observed.

‘Don’t worry,’ she yelled to be heard above the band’s bass-heavy version of Highway to Hell. ‘They just got raided last week. They’ll be good to go for a while now. We can relax and enjoy ourselves.’ She pulled him onto the dance floor. ‘Best dance while there’s room. In a few hours it’ll be a real tit squeeze.’

Kendra Davis was just as stunning dark and dangerous as she was golden and romantic, as she was naked in his kitchen, and she definitely knew how to move on the dance floor. But it made Garrett more than a little nervous that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be noticing the way the woman could shake her booty. He thought about asking her to try not to draw to much attention to herself, but he wasn’t even sure it was possible for Kendra Davis not to draw attention.

The place smelled of leather and beer, and sweat. Already there was a thick haze of pheromones invisible to the eye, but everyone there breathed them it, gave them off and reveled in the dark anticipation of what the night might bring. The look in Kendra’s eyes was bright and wicked, like she would do anything, try anything, like all the boundaries were suddenly negotiable.

And fuck, as amazing as she was like that, as much as he wanted to lose himself in the place, in the experience, there was no way he could keep from thinking about who might be watching her in that crowd, about who might be waiting for just the perfect opportunity.

As though she were reading his mind, she pulled him to her with a hand curled around his neck and spoke against his ear. ‘Oh would you relax, Garrett. Do you really think this is the kind of hang-out Tess Delaney would frequent?’

Then she slid both arms around his neck and let him pull her into a deep, hungry kiss. When it ended with an aggressive flick of his tongue, she offered a throaty giggle. ‘Marking territory, are we?’ Before he had a chance to respond, she returned the favor, plunging her tongue in deep, and tightening a fist in his hair to pull him closer.

He moved a hand to the small of her back and gave her the full frontal rub-up, enough to be sure she knew she’d gotten his cock’s attention. ‘You see where this is leading if you keep that up?’

She pulled away and gave his crotch some breathing room as the music settled into a heavy metal beat that filled the dance floor with lots of heavily booted bikers and their spandex and leather women. Garrett was surprised to find more than a few men in pressed jeans and designer polo shirts bellied up to the bar in the mix that looked like it was probably mostly low-brow. He wasn’t the only man who looked like he’d just come from a work out at the corner gym and Kendra’s shredded jeans seemed to be the fashion statement of more than a few women among a smattering of Goth and grunge and plain old red-neck jeans and tee-shirts with baseball caps.

With each song the band played, the dance floor became fuller and fuller. The strobe light flashed and the disco ball bathed the floor in sparkles as people rocked and strutted and sweated, and it became more and more difficult to tell who was dancing with whom. Garrett was about to grab Kendra by the hand and reel her back in so they could stay connected when a biker in a ZZ Top tee-shirt that smelled like an ashtray and looked like it might have been painted across his bulging pecs managed to slide in between them, turn his back on Garrett, and focus his full attention on Kendra. And suddenly all Garrett could see was his broad back.

‘Kendra,’ he called, but his voice was drowned out in the roar of Def Leppard. And that might have been okay if the man hadn’t been so fucking big. Kendra was certainly entitled to dance with whomever she liked. But he couldn’t see her. He fucking couldn’t see her! Not even her feet between the man’s shuffling boots. ‘Kendra!’ He called again. Louder this time. That at least got the man’s attention, but when he turned to see what Garrett wanted, and he could see beyond the biker’s bulk, Kendra was not there! The woman the man was dancing with had cropped blonde hair and a leather bustier several sizes too small.

‘Kendra!’ Garrett called out, louder this time, shoving his way past the biker, who pulled the blonde to him protectively. Frantically Garrett scanned the burgeoning crowd on the dance floor, scanned the women with hats. There were cowboy hats, police hats, even a few stocking caps, but there were just too many people, too many lights, too much noise. In his mind he could only think of Razor Sharp’s horrid email and Kendra’s response to it. Why the hell hadn’t he forced the issue? Why the hell hadn’t he made her tell him why she was so upset, made her tell him about the stalker Dee had mentioned. And fuck! Why had he let her talk him into bringing her here?

*****

Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.

Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy  published by Xcite Romance. The first and second novels in the trilogy are out now.

Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace, writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.

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