Friday, December 27, 2013

Christmas ICE Magic Anthology from Siobhan Muir

Hot reads await you at the Crescent Moon Lodge!

At the Crescent Moon Lodge, anything is possible and Christmas wishes come in the most unusual packages. When four friends win a trip to Mount Charleston, NV for Christmas, they are unprepared for what awaits. At Crescent Moon Lodge, your deepest wish comes true, whether you’re prepared for it our not.

Join Siobhan Muir, RM Sotera, Johanna Riley, and Shannan Albright at the Crescent Moon Lodge. 

At the Crescent Moon Lodge, anything is possible and Christmas wishes come in the most unusual packages.

Christmas I.C.E. Magic – By Siobhan Muir
For Lily Sinclair, Christmas means sorrow and loss since the death of her twin brother. The magic is gone and she only wants to see her brother one more time. As an Ice Demon Zachary Snow is used to rescuing people in winter, but he’d never rescued anyone like Lily. Now he must convince her the magic she wants is in life itself.

A Howling Yuletide –By Shannan Albright
Fleur Delecourt knew her Christmas holiday was doomed from the start. Not only did she hate the cold and snow, but also she found herself saddled with a ski instructor, courtesy of a friend’s twisted sense of humor.
Werewolf Rory Furr left Scotland to find a life and pack of his own. What he was not prepared for was finding his mate in the form of a petite redhead who tests both his self-control and patience.

Bon Appetite from the Lunar Eclipse Restaurant-By R.M. Sotera
Executive chef vampire Michael Stake loves his job at the Lunar Eclipse Restaurant. Although food critics do not visit often, he welcomes world-renown critic Penelope Rothchild to his establishment. That’s when all hell breaks loose.

World-renown food critic Penelope Rothchild looks forward to her new assignment in Las Vegas. Christmas in the West, what could possibly go wrong? Everything. But it’s all in the name of the perfect meal.

Boo Christmas – By Johanna Riley
All Elvira "Elle" Grant wanted for Christmas was to get out from under her famous paranormal investigator parents' shadow. But being a medium she's always haunted by their profession. Thanks to a contest win, she gets the chance to do her own paranormal investigating during Christmas at the beautiful Crescent Moon Lodge near Las Vegas, Nevada. With hunky (albeit dead!) Casper Van Beau’s help. Can Elle get over her own insecurities long enough to open up to the possibilities of eternal love?

 Story Excerpt from Siobhan Muir:

Zach almost overlooked the location of the missing hiker in the swirling snow, but a yellow tarp waved like a garish flag and he cut the motor. Damn, she’s almost completely buried. He strapped on his crampons and grabbed his shovel. He didn’t have much time. The scents in the wind told him the Ice Demons hadn’t started to really play yet, but they were close, and he might lose the human in the fallout.
Zach knelt in the snow and attacked the ice around the tent. He didn’t have to dig long and satisfied surprise zinged through him. Well now, this little ice princess has some skill. She’d dug out a shelter in the snow, big enough for her to create cocoon of warmth to survive the night. Except the air within her little hideaway almost matched the subzero temperature outside. Where was her stove?
He leaned in through the entrance he’d made and unzipped the tent. She lay like a ceremonial mummy with only her face exposed to the air. Long gold lashes fanned her cheeks beneath arching gold brows. A straight nose pointed to full lips, quirking upwards at their corners. Spangles of snowflakes glittered on her skin and her lips moved as if she spoke to someone just out of hearing.
I have to get her warmed up. The snowflakes didn’t melt against her skin and though she whispered, her words sounded weak and slurred. I’m going to lose her.
Ignoring the worry churning in his gut, Zach checked her pulse and the woman jerked a little. Thank Freya she still has life in her. He unzipped her bag and nodded with approval. She’d dressed for the cold and seemed to have all the gear she needed, but why hadn’t she used her stove? He spied a little Christmas tree set up in one corner and shook his head. Odd way she had to celebrate.
“Linus, wait.”
Zach glanced at the woman and his heart lurched with the agony wreathing her features. “Please, Linus, wait for me. Don’t go.”
Sweet Goddess, he’d never heard such pain in his long life. Was this woman out here to suicide? Not on his watch, dammit. Zach reached into his pack and brought out the heat packs, breaking up the little crystals to generate heat.
“Come on, princess, it’s time to come back to this world.” He pulled out his phone to make sure he had the woman’s name. “Ms. Sinclair. Can you hear me?”
She gasped and opened her eyes, gray eyes like the cliffs of andesite in the spring melt. Their beauty stopped him a moment before she squinted against the light of his headlamp.
“Ms. Sinclair, my name is Zach Snow. I’m here to take you back to the resort.”
“No, don’t want to wake up. Just want to sleep. Linus, come back.”
She turned her head away and tried to burrow back into her sleeping bag, but Zach grasped her shoulders and held her flat against the ground. “Ms. Sinclair, you’re nearly frozen through and we need to get you warm. I’m going to add some heat packs to your bag. They aren’t very large, but they’ll generate enough heat to keep you warm until I can get you off the mountain.”
She shook her head and moaned, but she didn’t say anything coherent. Zach cursed. It sounded like she wouldn’t fight for herself, so he’d have to do the fighting for her. He didn’t know who Linus was, but Zach wanted to smack him for driving a woman this lovely to choose death.
The heat packs steamed lightly in the cold air and he tossed them in her bag then zipped it up and tightened the drawstrings around her face. She moaned again and tears leaked from her eyes, painting iridescent trails across her pale cheeks. Her sorrow cut him, but he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. He didn’t have time to take all her gear with her down the mountain. He pulled out his GPS and marked the spot. Waiting for the little unit to connect with the satellite usually didn’t bother him, but a low rumble echoed in his breastbone and the ground shook a little.
Ninth Hell, the Blizzard & Fall Party. Zach left the woman for a moment to duck out into the snow and sniff the air. He listened hard as he inhaled the scents of the storm. The snow swirled in great plumes of white and energy crackled near the top of Mt. Charleston. The Ice Demons poised at the edge of sending an avalanche down the slopes.
“Fuck.” He’d just run out of time.
Zach ducked back into the snow cave and glanced at the GPS. It pinged happily, noting their position and Zach made sure to save the reading so he could find her gear later. At the moment, he had to get her out of the path of the snow flow.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, but it’s time to go.” He’d never get her all the way down to the Lodge ahead of the avalanche. The only place close and marginally comfortable was his own personal ice cave. He’d never taken anyone there, not even Greta, but tonight he didn’t have a choice.
“I hope you like crystalline d├ęcor.” He hauled Ms. Sinclair’s dead weight out of the shelter and leaned her against the snowmobile, making sure she wouldn’t slip down the slope. He darted back for their packs and zipped up the tent, sealing the little tree inside.

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Wednesday, December 18, 2013

What does an author do after typing, The End?

Woo hoo! I'm thrilled, elated, floating on Cloud 9. I just subbed the last book for the Rough in the Saddle series!


This homemade banner will have to do until I get some covers. Sqeee, covers! Yes, I'm excited. Now all I need to do is figure out what I will do with myself until edits come. Hmmm, ah yes, I will catch up on my TBR pile. I've been waiting and looking forward to just reading for a while. But not tonight. All day at the computer combined with my finale complete has left me surprisingly exhausted. 

A little music for the road.....


Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Karen Mercury getting naughty with The Good Switch!

If you're in the mood for public exhibition, flogging, forced seduction, and role play with a happily ever after, don't miss The Good Switch!

expensive business suit, and Natasha wants to restore order to the chaos that has become of her life. Ari’s brand of domination equals security and safety for her.
Natasha Woolf’s delinquent teen son is giving her nothing but headaches. Enter Ari Braverman, politician turned powerful food critic, and she welcomes the help. Ari is a charismatic, cultured silver fox in an
After a nasty breakup in Washington, D.C., Ari hesitates to accept a new submissive. But he discovers the spitfire restaurant owner has a feisty side that refuses to offer total surrender, and he’s surprised that her rebel play turns him on.
When his old girlfriend Kelly pops up begging to reconcile, Ari sends the ex-sub packing. Kelly worms her way into the graces of politicos supporting his Congressional bid, with deadly intentions for the sub who has taken her place. Natasha must fight tooth and nail to prove she is…The Good Switch.

Hot Excerpt-

She stammered, “You’ve never…brought anyone here?”
“Never,” was all he’d say, and he reached behind a ceramic pot that sat on top of the low wall. “The Sandbox people told me where to get these cuffs and other…things.”
Nipple clamps. Natasha was in her element with that implement, and she looked down with interest as Ari slid the tweezer clamps onto her nipples with surgical precision. His gaze flickered back and forth from her face to her nipple, then back to her face. No doubt he was gauging her reaction to the varying tension of the clamps. She writhed, gritting her teeth and arching her neck, and he must have liked what he saw, for he left the clamps tight.
He sat back between her thighs to regard her with amusement. She snarled through her clenched teeth, snorting and bucking like a caged feline. “Do it, you bastard,” she seethed, like an actress in an exorcism movie.
Ari drew himself up. “Whoa, whoa! Who holds all the cards around here, young missy? I don’t think you’re in any position to issue orders. This deserves punishment.” Magically, from behind the same pot Ari revealed a pair of scissors, and with one snip he easily did away with the strip of panty shielding her pussy.
He admired the view while she undulated her spine mightily, like the swells of a stormy ocean. She just wanted him to touch her! Make me come, you bastard! Fuck me in the mouth or pussy! Just do something! Stop teasing me! But she knew this was part of clit torture, and she shouldn’t have been surprised when he swished several fingers quickly over her extended, swollen clit. Of course she jumped about a foot in the air and had to clench her jaw so tightly it hurt. Again and again he swiped his fingers, just enough to set her utterly on edge.
She could have safeworded, of course. She could have even crawled up the side of the wall and leaped over it. She could have brought her bound hands around her front and diddled herself into ecstasy. But this was part of the game, remaining at his beck and call, and Natasha loved it. Every time he brushed the flats of his fingers across her throbbing clitoris she cried out involuntarily and writhed even more furiously. She was trying to kiss the sky with her cunt, shaking and shimmying every time he so much as brushed his hand anywhere near her pussy. Yet he kept it soft enough to guarantee she’d never be able to come.
She shouted through her clenched teeth. “Ari...” Her warning tone did nothing to speed up his toying with her. Her pussy’s inner walls clutched at nothing hollowly, and her helplessness only heightened the anticipation. Would he turn her over his knee, like he had in her office? Would he lightly stroke her cunt, or would he choose the more severe option?
“You’ve got a lovely pussy,” he said now. He smiled, so relaxed, while she just wanted to scream and tear his—or her own—hair out! He gave her clit three or four serious, sensuous strokes of the thumb. Ten more of those and she would’ve been crashing into the heavens with a thunderous orgasm. But Ari seemed to know this. Even more casually now, he removed his tie slowly. “I think I came up with the right word for you. Firecracker. I can just tell that when I allow you to come you’ll just explode. You’re like a live wire, just crackling with electricity. You love being played with, don’t you?”
Natasha did explode then. “Ari! Will you hurry the fuck up?” She knew this would gain her more punishment, but it would probably be the sort she liked.
She was right. Again he frowned, twining his necktie around his knuckles. He tensed the silk between his hands, uncaring if he was ruining the Italian material. “You’re just a fresh, saucy little lady, aren’t you? I’m going to have to do something about that mouth on you.” And with one fluid motion, he kneeled over Natasha and whipped the tie around the back of her skull. A few simple knots and she was completely gagged. She whinnied like a horse and thrashed her head back and forth, but he had expertly prevented her from notifying his neighbors of their games.
Once more he reached behind the pot and withdrew what looked like a little riding crop. Aha. She was familiar with this item, too. It was a “flapper,” a combination of a flogger and a crop, with four leather falls that could be teased lightly or thwacked. Natasha fell silent and stopped writhing with anticipation of what might come next. She panted through her nostrils, her eyes burning.
There it was—the arrogant, smoldering flash in his eyes. She’d known it was there from the stories she’d heard about the trauma room, the brass balls, the ambitious barracuda. He claimed he’d mellowed out, but she didn’t think anyone ever lost that drive, that determination, that quest for power. His eyes narrowed and he slapped her labia with the flapper. It made a sharp crack there in the still courtyard air.
“You need to remember your place, woman.” Thwack. Again and again he slapped her, in such a precise way that every slap got her juices flowing even more. Smack. Not too hard, and definitely not too soft, Ari flogged her pussy in exactly the right manner. Every smack brought her higher and higher up the cliff. He continued the teasing, the torture he’d started with his fingers, only now he upped the ante. He smacked her pussy loudly and now he reached out and diddled her constrained nipple. That was when she screamed.

   Check it out on Bookstrand!

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Siobhan Muir - The Navy's Ghost


This hot, erotic menage has been getting 5 star reviews from readers. A must read!

A SEAL is strongest with her Team…

Copyright © 2013 Siobhan Muir
All rights reserved.

“Then you gotta wake up and talk to them ’cause they want to make sure you get the message loud and clear. Do you hear me, Ensign Brickman?”
“Yes sir.” Chris struggled, twisting her head back and forth as if shaking off a smothering hood. Sweat beaded on her forehead, sliding down the side of her face to soak the pillowcase but her eyes opened clear, fastening on Jim.
“Hey, Ghost. What the hell is going on? Why are you succumbing to some measly little fever? You giving up on something?”
“Waters.” Chris shifted her gaze to Todd.
“Hey, Magic. You okay?”
Why would she talk to Todd rather than him?
Because Todd Hunter is the better man and didn’t yell at her, moron.
“Actually, no, not really.” Magic squeezed her hand. “I’m pretty damn worried about you. See, from where I’m sittin’, it looks like you’re givin’ up and that just ain’t right. If you give up, then I won’t be able to tell you how beautiful you look or how much I love you ever again. In fact, I’m bettin’ you’d miss a whole buttload of opportunities to hear how I feel if you just give up and die.”
Chris didn’t say anything for a long time, her gaze studying Magic’s face. The blond man’s expression filled with all his love for her and Jim had to blink back his tears. Damn! Why hadn’t he ever seen Todd’s feelings for Chris? Either the man was better at hiding them or he’d been too tied up in his own emotions to notice.
“How do you feel, Magic?” she whispered at last, her expression wary.
“Well, that’s where it gets real complicated real fast.” A smile curled across Todd’s handsome face. “See, I’m pretty head over heels in love with you, Ensign Christiana, and I have been for some time now. When you got shot in the warehouse, I figured I might lose the best woman in the world, the only woman I love, and it didn’t sit well with me.”
“You’re in love with me?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“Are you sure?”
Magic barked out a half-offended, half-amused laugh. “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure.”
Her hazel eyes shifted back to Jim and he fell into her gaze. He wanted her so much it made his chest ache, but he wasn’t worthy of her. He couldn’t contaminate her with unnatural needs. But he could, and did, love her.
“What about you, Retro? How do you feel?”
“Right now, you got me nervous, Ensign.”
“Nervous about what?”
“Nervous you might leave before I could tell you I love you.” He glanced at Todd and his buddy dipped his head in encouragement. “It’s hard for me to admit after Magic gave you his declaration, but if you’re giving up on life, I’d like you to know before you go.”
Chris’s gaze shifted away, scanning the room beyond them and the new vases of flowers decorating the room. Then she refocused on the men.
“I’m still in the hospital.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Magic said.
“How do I know this isn’t a dream? The last time I talked to you two, you looked like I’d just told you I was gonna to run a marathon unarmed in Afghanistan. How do I know, with all the drugs in my system, this is real?”
“Does this feel real to you?”
Before his mind could catch up to his body, Jim leaned forward and kissed Chris. Even with the scent of fever and medicine, her soft lips damn near dragged a groan from his chest. He’d fantasized countless times of kissing her and reality bested the fantasies. He kept the kiss tender and sweet, but arousal shot through his body and stiffened his cock. Jim forced himself to pull away, to revel in the little pleasure he’d taken.
Chris sighed and a pale smile lifted her lips. “That was a dream come true.”
Jim grinned, suddenly giddy. “For me, too, Ghost. I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too, Jim.”
She reached for his hand and he engulfed it in his large palm. Her skin scorched his.
“Are you gonna give up on this fight, then?” He coughed around a large lump in his throat.
“No, sir. Not if you’re waiting for me in the clear water.”
“You can count on it, Brickman. We’ll both be waiting for you.”
Even if I don’t take my share, I’ll still wait.