Silvia Violet

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Deanna Wadsworth’s Naughty North Pole

Dec 2, 2014 Filed under: guest blogger, holiday

Today I’m thrilled to welcome, my good friend, Deanna Wadsworth. She’s here to share her latest Naughty North Pole story, Everybody Hates Fruitcake…

 

How do Santa’s Elves shop for Christmas?

 

Well, in THE NAUGHTY NORTH POLE, Santa’s elves really have no need to Black Friday shop or login in Cyber Monday. Since they make toys and gifts at the Workshop, most elves who want to give a gift to their loved ones barter. For example, Pip from PIP’S BOXING DAY WISH rewired the internet connection in the stable bunkhouse in order to have a new fur coat for his boyfriend Erik. It gets cold working out in the stables at the North Pole, so the gift is Pip’s way of keeping his lover as warm during the workday as he does at night. Sheila, the head chef has been known to bake cookies in order to get jewelry for her wife Danni. This year, however Danni and Sheila are bartering with something else as a gift for their friend Ivan.

In my fifth NAUGHTY NORTH POLEbook EVERYBODY HATES FRUITCAKE, readers get to meet Ivan, one of Santa’s reindeer handlers who work out in the stables making sure Santa’s team are ready for the big Christmas Eve ride. But Ivan has been feeling blue lately because he has a secret.

In case you haven’t heard all of Santa’s elves have candy flavored cum in THE NAUGHTY NORTH POLE LOL And it only seemed right that one of them would taste like fruitcake. Trouble is, Ivan knows all the jokes people say about fruitcake, and he is afraid to tell anyone his secret. He thinks no one will ever find him as delicious as the chocolate and peanut butter flavored guys.

But Sheila—the head chef at the North Pole and supervisor of Santa’s Christmas Cookie Baking School—thinks fruitcake is delicious! She has been spending years perfecting her recipe, but has never been able to get it right. When her wife Danni tells her about Ivan….well, let’s just say Sheila is in the mood for some taste testing!

~D

 

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

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Everybody Hates Fruitcake

EVERYBODY HATES FRUITCAKE

Ivan has the bad luck to be the only elf at the naughty North Pole with fruitcake-flavored cum—and he’s not telling anyone. When fellow elf Jimmy hits on him, Ivan fears revealing his secret and losing a chance to have a real relationship with the sexy elf.

After all, everybody hates fruitcake!

Danni’s wife Sheila is the Head Chef at the North Pole. Unfortunately, while Sheila hunts for the perfect recipe for fruitcake, she neglects her wifely duties. So when Ivan tells Danni about his dilemma, she devises a plan to solve both of their problems.

Can these two girls help Ivan realize he is perfect just the way he is? Will Danni’s wife perfect her fruitcake recipe with Ivan’s special ingredient? But most importantly, will Ivan have the courage to take Jimmy up on his offer?

 

EXCERPT:

A soft hand caressed mine. “Why don’t you like Jimmy?”

Naturally, Danni wouldn’t let it drop. “It’s not that,” I answered. “I like him a lot, actually. That’s the problem.”

She shook her head, her long black ponytail swaying. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Of course you don’t get it.” I brushed a lock of silky black hair off her brow. Her bangs were always falling in her eyes, and she didn’t flinch from my familiarity. “You’re perfect.”

Grinning, she said, “Well, that’s obvious. But it still doesn’t explain why you say you like Jimmy, yet you ignore all his advances.”

“Because I don’t know if I should do anything about it. He’ll just end up being disappointed.”

“I’m still going to go with, that makes absolutely no sense.” She gave me a head to toe once over. I managed a smile when she tipped back to take in my ass and give me a whistle—she was such a flirt. “You’re gorgeous, Ivan. And you’re funny. You forget I’ve seen you take care of those pathetic earthbound reindeer.”

“They’re not pathetic.”

“See what I mean? All the other Dökkálfar in the stables prefer to work with the flyers. But not you. You’re kind and patient. A real caregiver. So I ask you, what would Jimmy have to be disappointed about?”

I squirmed in my seat, unsure if I should tell her, but desperately wanting to. I had not breathed a word of it since I’d arrived, preferring to have my choice of lovers, rather than be laughed at like I had been in my hometown. But something about the sincerity, the kindness in Danni’s brown eyes made me feel like I should trust her. Like it was finally time to tell someone the truth.

“Because I taste like fruitcake.”

 

Pick up your copy of EVERYBODY HATES FRUITCAKE today!

 

Anniversary Blog Tour for Honor C by Carol Zampa

Jun 11, 2014 Filed under: guest blogger

honor-6-mockup

Today I’m welcoming Carol Zampa to my blog. She’s celebrating the publication anniversary of Honor C and she’s got an awesome giveaway as well. Check out the rafflecoptor details at end of the post.

HonorCHonor C by Carol Zampa

When Honor Castillo convinces himself he isn’t gay, he begins a new life. He ends his affair with his lover, Jorge Villagomez, and marries Rebecca to establish a life with her as a respected San Antonio businessman. They have a son and he tells himself he is happy.

Eleven years later, Jorge returns to San Antonio, and his path crosses with Honor’s once more. The flame of their passion never died, and neither did Jorge’s love for Honor.

When Jorge approaches Honor to design his studio, Honor believes he can walk the line between friendship and lovers. But when a sudden crisis threatens to take Jorge from him forever, Honor must choose between his duty and his heart. Most of all, he’s forced to decide what he’s willing to lose in order to be true to who he really is.

Buy links:

Dreamspinner Press

Amazon

All Romance (Are)

Excerpt

JORGE stirred beside me, dragging me from my reverie of schoolyards, lunches, and bullies and back to the present.

Tonight was our last chance to make love. I had no words, I just wanted to look at him, memorize him. I reached to paint the line of his full bottom lip with my thumb and shivered at the sigh it evoked from him, the tiny whimper as he wriggled to face me.

He twirled a finger in the curls at my nape. “Remember Shirley Setzer?”

I turned on my side to take in the sight of Jorge’s nude body—skinny, girly, driving-me-out-of-my-mind sexy—stretched out beside me.

The limited light transformed his thin form into smooth, elegant planes with a tantalizing thatch of shadow between his legs.

“How weird. I was just thinking about her.” I lifted onto my elbow.

His hand dropped to his chest. “The day we met.”

I snorted. “We didn’t meet that day. You never even spoke to me.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Hell, no.”

“But—”

“Ah, no. You pranced your stuck-up little ass back to the building, never said two words to me.”

Lifting his hand, he pretended to slap me. “I was not stuck up.”

I said nothing, just lifted an eyebrow that I was sure he couldn’t really see in the dark.

“I didn’t mean to be, Honor. I guess I was afraid to talk to you. None of the other kids had anything to do with me. Figured you wouldn’t either.”

“But you charged into Shirley. You sure weren’t shy then.”

“I just reacted.”

“I’ll never forget. You knocked the shit out of ol’ Shirley and never even said anything to me. You just strutted away, all prissy-assed. Do you know what I thought?”

“What?”

“I thought you were irritated at me, that you thought I should have defended myself. That you thought I was weak.”

“Oh, querido,” he murmured and cupped his warm palm to my cheek. “I was the weak one, to give in to her taunts. You were the strong one. And I think I loved you that day. Even that young, I think I loved you.”

“Me? Gordo? Cerdo Castillo?”

With a grunt, Jorge flopped onto his back. “Stop it, damn you.”

“Sorry,” I chuckled. It riled him so for me to put myself down about my size.

He shifted toward me once more, wormed nearer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’d see you smile at somebody in the halls and I’d nearly cry like a baby, wanting so bad to get one of your killer smiles aimed at me. Holy shit, I had the biggest girly crush on you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Your smile, Honor.” He pressed a trembling finger to my lips. “Your smile.”

“Once you did speak to me, I don’t think my smile showed itself for anybody but you again.”

“Bullshit.” This time he did slap me. Lightly, but still a slap to my cheek. “She sure as hell sees it.”

“Ay-ay.” I coaxed the head of my cock against his crotch. “We agreed not to bring that up tonight.”

“Please don’t do this.” He whispered the words onto my shoulder. His voice, so husky, a sultry purr—all Lauren Bacall, just put your lips together and blow—hadn’t lost its power to make me grovel at his feet in lust.

“Want me to stop?” I teased and turned him in my arms.

“Make jokes.” Burrowing deeper into my embrace, he growled and circled his palm over the hair on my chest. “Becky,” he spat. “I can’t even say her name without choking on it.”

I held him tighter but said nothing. What more was there to say? We’d been arguing all night, ever since I’d broken the news to him that I’d gotten serious with Rebecca Sanchez, the dazzling woman I’d met a few months back.

We can still fuck, can’t we? Jorge had contended. Why does she have to change anything?

Because once my relationship with Becky seemed to be heading on a serious route, I couldn’t cheat on her. I just couldn’t. The decision hadn’t come easily, but I’d made it, and I knew it was good.

Honor-C-Postcard

Author links:

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Giveaway Information:

Enter to win a $50 Amazon Gift Card at the end of the tour

 

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Glory Lands Blog Tour

May 6, 2014 Filed under: guest blogger

GloryLandsI’m excited to be part of the Glory Lands blog tour today. Here’s more on Vastine Bondurant’s latest release.  Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway below for fantastic prizes a $100 Victoria’s Secret giftcard or a $100 Amazon giftcard.

Blurb:
A Texas Piney Woods Story

Rural East Texas, 1931. Preacher’s son Emory Joe Logan and a fiddler from Shreveport, Glory Lands, meet and form a tender bond. When they are caught and arrested for homosexual acts by Sheriff Elihu Bishop, the lawman’s sanctimonious bigotry threatens to rip the young men from their families.

Emory Joe’s father, Pastor Charles Logan, is brought to his knees in terror, confusion, and anger. He still regrets not standing up against Bishop when the lawman murdered a youth in cold blood nine years ago.

Now there’s no longer a choice for the preacher to stand up to the lawman. Cold-blooded justice, bigotry-disguised-as-religion, and hatred take on a whole new meaning when they’re standing on his doorstep, ready to take the son he loves.

Buy links:
Dreamspinner Press
Amazon
All Romance

What Readers Are Saying..
“…This story is beautifully written with charm and a very classy style.  ” cathy- (Amazon)
“..
But every so often a story comes along and absolutely annihilates me. Glory Lands is that story…~ Astrid (Amazon)

pastor-charles-toned-down-mustacheExcerpt:

Oh, Emory Joe was a skinny country boy, a kid hidden deep in the heart of the piney woods. No imposing deity. But to look at him right then—the light in his bashful smile, the trust beginning to bloom in his eyes—he was a god to me.

Eyeing me with a lifted eyebrow that signaled he surely expected to shock me, he shrugged. “I have kissed a boy, you know.”

Did you now?”

“Yes.” He braced his shoulders, his head tossed back. King of the county, he was. “I have.”

“Well, what do you know.” I nodded.

“Are you shocked?” So proud, so adorable.

“Do you want me to be shocked?”

“What I want is, if you were thinking of kissing me, for you to know it’s all right.”

Jesus Lordy Almighty.

“I’m not shocked.” The power of his gentle light paralyzed me. I wanted to step nearer, but couldn’t. “How could a fella not want to kiss you?”

Offering nothing but a faint turning up of the lips that eased the nervous needles burning my skin, Emory Joe slowly turned and made his way back to the bank.

Once standing on the sandy strip, he dropped his hands to his sides and scratched his fingers on his thighs. “Well, then….”

“You nervous, Emory Joe?” I advanced a step.

“Why, yes, kind of… I mean….”

“Those hands of yours, always a-goin’ to town on your pants legs.”

“Daddy teases me about it too. I am a might nervous.” Just as I opened my mouth to apologize, he tossed back his head, stopped his busy fingers, and smiled. “So….” And, his voice half-sure and half-trembly, he invited, “Would you like to kiss me?”

My pulse marched like a battalion of boots in my ears. I couldn’t hear my voice over the noise, but I thought I said, “I’d like very much to kiss you, Emory Joe.”

And he just stood there. Waiting. Smiling

Did I walk on the water or through it? Somehow I made it to the bank to his side.

He sighed. Those full lips parted and the blue eyes closed. Expectant. Willing.

I leaned, just inches from his lips, so close I could smell the readiness of him mingled with the red scent of the rose in my pocket, and something pleasant and electric filled the tiny space between us.

The touch of his lips. Soft, firm, giving, greedy, innocent, seasoned, sweet, spicy, playful, deadly serious. All that in one breath of a kiss.

Had I fainted? No, I stood on my two feet, but I couldn’t feel my legs. All I felt was Emory Joe and his want.

After a million years stuffed into one second, he pulled away, and I, like a baby bird straining for morsels at feeding time, stretched my neck to bring back the contact.

Happy and scared, I watched while he fumbled with the buckles at the straps of his overalls. Oh dear Jesus. “Emory Joe….”

I’d come to fish only to have the fish leap straight out of the water and into my hands, and it had set my brain spinning off-kilter.

“Shush.” He touched his finger to his lips.

Soon the straps fell from his shoulders and the bib unfolded, falling away. He pulled his shirt over his head to expose his pale chest with its glorious rosy nipples, then bent to carefully drape the shirt over a tree stump.

I wanted so badly to see the rest of him—naked, buck naked—but I was also afraid of that very thing. The desiring of something so bad you feared it might stop your heart.

But not heeding my silent terror, Emory Joe slowly tugged the overalls until they hugged his narrow hips to show me his flat belly and the tease of golden hair at his crotch.

“Emory Joe,” I whispered.

Had that been a protest or a plea?

With a soft curl of the lips, his eyes holding me in some beautiful suspension like a man leaping from a cliff but not falling, he gave one last pull of the overalls to send them and his underpants to a blue pile at his bare ankles.

In that sunlight filtering through the trees stood a man too comely and heavenly to be tucked out here in the middle of nowhere.

A beautiful erection nestled in a light patch of hair. The tip of his cock, pink as his nipples.

Gone were my thoughts of not being able to take him. I had to have him. Jesus Christ, that proverbial team of wild horses couldn’t stop me now, not with this delicate, naked beauty wanting what I wanted.

Emory Joe lifted a hand to pluck the rose from my pocket. Drawing even closer, he tucked it into the hair at my ear then began to unbutton my shirt.

My breath caught while his fingers fumbled at each buttonhole, the light pressure like the delicate fluttering of a baby chick’s wings. And, then—oh, goddamn, then—when he unfastened my trousers and tugged them along my hips. The tiny gasp he issued when my dick, so hard and aching, sprang free of the denim folds.

After placing our clothes over the tree stump, there we both stood. Nothing between our naked bodies but warm spring air and need.

Emory Joe sank to his knees in the sand, arched his chest and palmed his nipples. “Glory.”

To hear my name loaded with such want, spoken in such an unbearably gentle caress.

I followed suit and dropped to my knees, taking his hands in mine. His hands. Shaking, holding tight.

“Yeah?” I turned up his palms and pressed them to my lips.

The taste of his skin—a delicate mix of faded shaving lotion and roses.

Oh, the wonderful pain in my groin.

“Do something to me.” He turned the request into a soft little moan.

“What do you want me to do?” Grasping his wrists, I pulled him against me. His body, unbearably soft and writhing, the satiny hardness of his dick pressing into mine. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I don’t know.” With his lips breathing the words onto my neck, he twined his fingers in the hair of my nape and squeezed. “It feels so good, I have to… to….” A whimper. “Please.”

Drawing back, I cupped my palm to his cheek, thumbed the downy stubble. “Have you really ever kissed a boy before, Emory Joe?

“No.” He glanced away to the creek. “Surely not because I haven’t wanted to. There’s just no boys like… me… to kiss in these parts.”

“Then let me see what I can do for a fella who’s never kissed a boy before.” A wispy, quick meeting of the lips. “Lie down, Emory Joe.”

His gaze fixed with mine, Emory Joe let his arms slide from my neck, and he slowly lowered himself onto his back in the sand. “Kiss me again.”

I lay beside him. “You liked kissing, then?”

He didn’t reply, just nodded, parted his lips, and lifted his head a bit.

“How much did you like it?” I sighed the words close to his mouth, reveling in the pleasure of the almost-touch of his lips.

Resting his head on the ground again, he traced his forefinger along my chin. “Very much.

About the Author:

I’m Texas born and raised, an old fashioned, bling-loving girly girl. I love to read and write stories of men and women and the sizzling chemistry that draws them together. Passion. My heart is helplessly bound to romance of a time long gone- gritty, sexy stories of men in fedoras and overcoats. Old Spice Aftershave, Lucky Strike cigarettes, fancy cuff links, hair pomade, mobsters. Clandestine whispers on Bakelite telephones from the shadows of cheesy restaurant phone booths. Stories of a time when sex was all the more sexy because it wasn’t plastered on every billboard—no naked Joes and dames in every ad in every magazine. Lovemaking—hot, sweet-and-naughty, a secret between lovers. My make believe world is sex and danger, hotter than Hades but wrapped up in a deceptive package—gals with soft skin, pretty lace slips, seamed stockings, satin peignoirs, powder puffs and Chanel No. 5. And the tough guys in dress shirts and suspenders who lust to get their hands on the garters they know tease just beneath those kick pleats. I’m a goner for the dynamics of testosterone meets sugar and spice.

Find Vastine online at:

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Guest Author – Deana Wadsworth’s Countdown to Christmas

Dec 23, 2013 Filed under: guest blogger, holiday, m/m

Countdown to Christmas with Santa’s elf, Jimmy

2 Days and counting

 

DW_Pips boxing day wish_MDMy name is Jimmy and I work in the Electronics Division at Santa’s North Pole Workshop. You may remember me from my not so flattering debut in that story PIP’S BOXING DAY WISH. I think it was really an unfair depiction of me. I’m sorry I can’t be perky, perky it when surrounded by elves like Pip.

Thanks for having me on this blog Silvia and thank you Jorge for asking me to participate in your blog tour.

Since I’m supposed to be sharing an update on what’s happening right before Christmas here at the Pole, here goes: It’s the 23rd and Santa is leaving tomorrow night so it is pretty much crazy around here.

Like what else did you guys expect?

In my Division, we’ve been making video games and doing so much wiring that my poor little fingers are raw when I go home at night. Maybe I need somebody to rub some lotion into them…any takers?

LOL I’m sure I’ll find somebody pretty fantastic tomorrow at Mrs. Claus’s party. I swear that’s the best part of December. Last year I don’t even remember half the day, I drink so much butterscotch. Butterscotch is really awesome. It’s the sweet, candy-flavored whiskey we brew up here in the North Pole. It’s similar to the candies humans eat, but it has a powerful kick. I plan on having a pint or three of it on Christmas Eve.

With only a couple days left of December, us elves will be out of the spotlight soon. I know that while we think about Christmas every day of the year, humans only think about it this time of year. Maybe I can talk Jorge into having a monthly post on Deanna’s blog to remind everyone how hard we are working all year.

If you would like a more in-depth view of what’s happening at the North Pole you can check out the latest installment of her book, FUN & GAMES WITH RUDOLPH. I brought along an excerpt—but of course, I’m not in it. I do find it funny how some elves get not only books, but multiple postings while others, like me, are lucky enough to be mentioned. I don’t want to talk about anybody getting special treatment—especially an elf who invents a hook-up app masquerading as a dating app….errr, did someone say Pip?

While Elf4Elf has been a lot of fun, all of us in the NP know that it’s just a hook up app and nothing special. I don’t know when I’m going to get my own THE NAUGHTY NORTH POLE story. Maybe next year.

But, I digress.

If you would like to enter to win the first three NAUGHTY NORTH POLE books and a $20 Amazon gift card in the entry box below, go for it. Best of luck!

Then check out this excerpt from FUN & GAMES WITH RUDOLPH

Well, that’s all I have to report. I am honored that cutie Jorge invited me to blog on his Countdown to Christmas tour. If you are enjoying his blog series, catch a list of all the dates HERE. This Wednesday there will be a new post with Pip at annebarwell.wordpress.com. Not really sure if I will be checking in on that day or not. After all it is Christmas Eve and as I said, I plan to be very busy!

Laters!

~Jimmy

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Medium RudolphFUN & GAMES WITH RUDOLPH

Naughty North Pole Book Four

By Deanna Wadsworth

 

Blurb:

 

Lars is the sarcastic elf who runs Santa’s Mail Department and he follows the dating rule of “no repeats”. But lately he’s been having a romantic textlationship with another elf, via the dating app Elf4Elf. When his cyber boyfriend goes AWOL after a misunderstanding, Lars realizes too late that there is more to life than sex, work, and cookies.

On Christmas Eve, Santa asks Lars to personally deliver a gift to Rudolph—a former reindeer handler who left the North Pole because of a misunderstanding. Rudolph lives on the secluded Sugar Plum Ridge and the only way to get there is by sleigh. Lars just can’t get a break!

When a sudden blizzard forces the two elves to hole up in Rudolph’s cabin, will they find a way to make their own fun and games or will one surprise ruin it all?

One thing is certain: after this night, they both will believe in the magic of the Naughty North Pole!

 

 

EXCERPT:

 

“What were you thinking?” my rescuer growled as he put his sword away. “These damn sleigh bells are like painting a big target on your back that says ‘come eat me.’”

His crusty demeanor and bad temper irked me. “Well, how in the name of Christmas was I supposed to know that I would get attacked by a yeti?”

“Never mind,” he said with a surly grunt. “Get over here.”

Tamping down my frustrated tears—I’d almost been killed and this guy was scolding me like I was a wayward child—I joined him, having no idea how he intended to free the animals when they were thrashing about, tangling themselves even worse.

The warrior removed his gloves. To my shock, his hands appeared normal, no claws or magic sparks or anything. Without fear of the beasts or their projectile antlers, he placed one hand on each reindeer, whispering words I didn’t understand. The soothing melody of them made me think he might be speaking the ancient language of the Elven races, but I had no idea what he said.

Instantly, the beasts calmed.

I stared in shock, my adrenaline still pumping. “How did you—?”

Eyes that had first appeared to be glowing stared out from above the balaclava covering his face. Snowflakes sparkled atop heavy lashes and the slight red in his brown irises indicated he was not a god, but rather a Dökkálfar.

“No time for explanation, my young elf,” he said. “We have to get them free.”

Nodding obediently, I agreed to help.

I assisted the best I could, holding the things he told me to hold while he did all the work. Lula was the first one loose and the second she realized it, she bolted and ran up the ridge.

“Wait!” I called after her.

“She’ll be fine,” the other elf told me. “Lula knows the way to my barn. Help me with Betty. She looks hurt.”

“Lula poked her with an antler.”

“Doesn’t surprise me with that one. Lula’s a real pistol.” I could hear the smile in his voice and, when it wasn’t yelling at me, it was a very pleasant, youthful sound, one that soothed me as much as it had the beasts. Though a dead yeti lay mere feet from me, I suddenly felt safe and protected beside this elf.

“Well, Betty,” he said to the reindeer. “Let’s see if ol’ Lula got you for real this time, or if you’re fit enough to walk.”

Thankfully, once he released the harnesses, she was able to stand. After he ran his big hands over her withers and legs, he buried his face against hers, whispering more of those ancient words. She huffed a few frosty breaths and tossed her head, as if nodding.

“What’s your name, elf?” he asked me.

“Lars.”

“Well, Lars, what say you and I let Betty carry us out of this place before any more yetis show up?”

“Sure,” I said, letting out a whoosh of breath. Curious, I stared at the big, fur-covered elf but already had my suspicions about the answer. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Rudolph.”

 

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

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Buy Deanna’s books at Dreamspinner Press, Decadent Publishing or at any reputable eBook sellers

 

Guest Author – Deanna Wadsworth

Dec 16, 2013 Filed under: guest blogger, holiday, m/m

Medium Rudolph

Countdown to X-mas with one of Santa’s elves, Jorge

9 days and counting

Hi! I’m Jorge.

You may remember me from my cameo in PIP’S BOXING DAY WISH, one of Deanna Wadsworth’s THE NAUGHTY NORTH POLE books. I don’t think Pip portrayed me as well as I would have liked, but hey my BFF Lars is probably right, Pip is sweet, but way too oversensitive. At least he volunteered to blog for me during this Countdown to Christmas internet tour. When I began asking elves to participate, you would’ve thought I was asking them to be celibate for a week.

Thank you Silvia Violet for having me! Your blog is lovely, and I think I need to read some of your stuff! Those guys on your book covers are HAWT!

I’m here to give a little report about what is going on in the North Pole in these last few days before Christmas. I run the Social Media Division within the Mail Department, and I cannot tell you how crazy it is! Tweets are coming in so fast, I had to put thirteen elves on Twitter alone, just to keep up with all the messages for Santa. After Deanna’s books went public, certain elves are getting a lot of mentions and direct messages, too. Lars was pretty popular, so I suppose that’s why he got his own book this year. I track all of the North Pole’s social media because Santa isn’t cool with individual elves having Twitter accounts. I have to approve all the incoming and outgoing internet activity with the human world personally. Part of me is surprised that Santa even allowed Pip to develop Elf4Elf, but I suppose he found it acceptable because it’s only between us elves.

Well, that and Santa has become very laid back after Jack Frost moved in with him.

Thank Odin he let us have E4E….you would not believe the hotties I’ve met thru that app. My buddy Lars was real excited about the app when it first came out, but now he’s been acting real weird. He’s never been one to mince words or kiss ass. Lars always says it like it is, whether you like it or not. Elves always take his sarcasm wrong, labeling him a jerk when he’s just goofing off. I admire the hells outta him and if I’m being honest, I think he’s the coolest elf I know. I wish I could be more like him. But lately he’s been being a real jerk. I told him to go get laid on his lunch break today, and he curled his lip at me and actually growled. WTF?

I don’t know what crawled up his butt and died, but I’m thinking I need to pick up Deanna’ latest THE NAUGHTY NORTH POLE book, FUN & GAMES WITH RUDOLPH, and find out what’s going on with Lars. He’s my pal and if someone is messing with him and making his life miserable, I need to know where and when to bring the shovel.

Anyways, I’m signing off. My inbox is pinging like mad! I can’t believe all this has to be done in nine days! Well, at least the party will be well worth all the work. Did I mention that I’ve got a few hotties on the line for the party? Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be a very merry Christmas for me!

If you’re enjoying my Countdown to Christmas blog series, catch a list of all the dates HERE. This Wednesday there will be a new post by one of the girl’s enrolled in Santa’s Christmas Cookie Backing School, Tessa. She’ll be sharing a delicious cookie recipe over at KT Grant’s blog.

And make sure you enter to win the first three NAUGHTY NORTH POLE books and a $20 Amazon gift card in the entry box below.

Then check out this excerpt from FUN & GAMES WITH RUDOLPH

~Jorge

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

FUN & GAMES WITH RUDOLPH

Naughty North Pole Book Four

By Deanna Wadsworth

 

Blurb:

Lars is the sarcastic elf who runs Santa’s Mail Department and he follows the dating rule of “no repeats”. But lately he’s been having a romantic textlationship with another elf, via the dating app Elf4Elf. When his cyber boyfriend goes AWOL after a misunderstanding, Lars realizes too late that there is more to life than sex, work, and cookies.

On Christmas Eve, Santa asks Lars to personally deliver a gift to Rudolph—a former reindeer handler who left the North Pole because of a misunderstanding. Rudolph lives on the secluded Sugar Plum Ridge and the only way to get there is by sleigh. Lars just can’t get a break!

When a sudden blizzard forces the two elves to hole up in Rudolph’s cabin, will they find a way to make their own fun and games or will one surprise ruin it all?

One thing is certain: after this night, they both will believe in the magic of the Naughty North Pole!

 

 

EXCERPT:

 

“What were you thinking?” my rescuer growled as he put his sword away. “These damn sleigh bells are like painting a big target on your back that says ‘come eat me.’”

His crusty demeanor and bad temper irked me. “Well, how in the name of Christmas was I supposed to know that I would get attacked by a yeti?”

“Never mind,” he said with a surly grunt. “Get over here.”

Tamping down my frustrated tears—I’d almost been killed and this guy was scolding me like I was a wayward child—I joined him, having no idea how he intended to free the animals when they were thrashing about, tangling themselves even worse.

The warrior removed his gloves. To my shock, his hands appeared normal, no claws or magic sparks or anything. Without fear of the beasts or their projectile antlers, he placed one hand on each reindeer, whispering words I didn’t understand. The soothing melody of them made me think he might be speaking the ancient language of the Elven races, but I had no idea what he said.

Instantly, the beasts calmed.

I stared in shock, my adrenaline still pumping. “How did you—?”

Eyes that had first appeared to be glowing stared out from above the balaclava covering his face. Snowflakes sparkled atop heavy lashes and the slight red in his brown irises indicated he was not a god, but rather a Dökkálfar.

“No time for explanation, my young elf,” he said. “We have to get them free.”

Nodding obediently, I agreed to help.

I assisted the best I could, holding the things he told me to hold while he did all the work. Lula was the first one loose and the second she realized it, she bolted and ran up the ridge.

“Wait!” I called after her.

“She’ll be fine,” the other elf told me. “Lula knows the way to my barn. Help me with Betty. She looks hurt.”

“Lula poked her with an antler.”

“Doesn’t surprise me with that one. Lula’s a real pistol.” I could hear the smile in his voice and, when it wasn’t yelling at me, it was a very pleasant, youthful sound, one that soothed me as much as it had the beasts. Though a dead yeti lay mere feet from me, I suddenly felt safe and protected beside this elf.

“Well, Betty,” he said to the reindeer. “Let’s see if ol’ Lula got you for real this time, or if you’re fit enough to walk.”

Thankfully, once he released the harnesses, she was able to stand. After he ran his big hands over her withers and legs, he buried his face against hers, whispering more of those ancient words. She huffed a few frosty breaths and tossed her head, as if nodding.

“What’s your name, elf?” he asked me.

“Lars.”

“Well, Lars, what say you and I let Betty carry us out of this place before any more yetis show up?”

“Sure,” I said, letting out a whoosh of breath. Curious, I stared at the big, fur-covered elf but already had my suspicions about the answer. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Rudolph.”

 

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

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Buy Deanna’s books at Dreamspinner Press, Decadent Publishing or at any reputable eBook seller

Guest Author: Sara York

Aug 29, 2013 Filed under: book release, guest blogger, m/m, paranormal, shapeshifter

ProdigalWolf-WolvesandWaves400I love shifters. Silvia’s Wild R Farms series drew me in and had me falling in love with the characters. She always does such an excellent job of creating worlds that are believable and characters that are amazing.

When Linda and I started writing Prodigal Wolf we wanted to make the shifters believable. We wanted the characters to be more than just wolves who occasionally turned into humans or humans that occasionally turned into wolves. We wanted fully formed characters that were shifters and couldn’t be separated from or exist without the other piece of themselves. Of all the wolves, I think Ted is my favorite. He’s comical but dangerous. Ted isn’t the main focus of book one, but he’s a big part of it. Ted’s humor comes from his laid back attitude. He’s masterful but in a calm way.

My next favorite would be Carlo. He’s all smoke and shadows with a dose of sexy and dangerous. Tall dark and handsome along with smart make him one hell of a man. Add to that the animalistic nature that is his beast and he’s the total package. Carlo is the central character in the Wolves and Waves series, featured in book one but his story isn’t resolved that quickly.

Then there are the twinks, Kevin and Grady. They are cute and sweet but together, they are trying to hard and they might just ruin the best thing to happen in their lives. Through their fumbling, Kevin and Grady might just find happiness, if they get their head up high enough to see that they have something special.

I hope you enjoy Prodigal Wolf and our guys. Prodigal Wolf is available at most online ebook retailers like Amazon

Blurb: Carlo has a problem; after years away he’s finally returned to his South Carolina roots – but instead of peace and quiet all he’s found are nosy wolves, romancing twinks, an out of control roommate threatening to expose them all, and a demanding Alpha who just won’t go away.
All his Alpha wants is to show Carlo who he really is, and where he belongs. But Carlo Montefiore is a man fighting his instincts, memories, and responsibilities. His beachside home was supposed to provide sanctuary, but pack politics, unruly roommates, and human neighbors at risk of discovering that shifters exist, are making life anything but peaceful. Twinks Kevin and Grady have their own problems. Two college freshmen are no match for a couple of hot wolves who like to play chase. If they don’t stop playing games they’ll miss the biggest thing to happen in their young lives—love.

Excerpt:

Joey moved to stand beside him at the sink. “Whoa! Dude!” he threw over his shoulder, “Ya gotta check this out—twinkies!!!”

Ted tossed his rag on the board and crowded in to check out the scene. “Sweet!”

Two slender young men were unloading a little red Audi A3 hatchback, pulling bags and suitcases out of the rear. They looked like twins from this angle—all light brown curls and tan skin. Typical East Coasters in their pastel polo shirts and colorful madras shorts. You could literally pick them out of a Vineyard Vines catalog. Everything you ever thought about a preppy was currently bent over across the way. “Yum!” Joey couldn’t resist. The change in Carlo was immediate, his eyes darkening, a scowl fixed on his face. One glance had Ted slinking back to his seat at the table.

“That is exactly what I’m fuckin’ talking about! You stay the fuck away from them! You do not shift in the house without drawing the curtains… No. Wait. No fucking shifting in the house at all. You want to run, you take a drive and walk into the refuge or head to Pinckney Island. Period.”

“Hey! What the fuck Carlo. You can’t tell me…” Joey was protesting when a finger jammed into his breastbone, Carlo’s breath in his face, brows drawn.

“Grow up, Joey… Just….” He jammed his finger, highlighting each word with a thump before moving back to lean against the counter, running his fingers through his thick black hair.

“Shit. I need you to drive to Beaufort and pick up a package. I also have a list of errands, it’s there on the counter…”

Joey stared at the man. Carlo was completely losing it.

“Christ Carlo, just chill. I can pick up the stuff later—”

Carlo growled, his eyes narrowing and turning yellow, indicating the wolf was about to show. “Pick it up now.”

“Fuck! Just because Angelo crawled up your ass this morning doesn’t mean you have to take it out on us!”

“That’s the prob, Carlo wants Angelo up his ass…” Ted muttered under his breath.

The silence was shocking and Joey knew they’d gone too far. Normally they kept their razzing at a low hum, but this morning he and Ted had thrown wisdom out the window, pouncing on the man.

Guest Authors: Kameron Brook and Dirk Tyler

Feb 26, 2013 Filed under: erotica, guest blogger, m/f

Welcome Kameron and Dirk! They are here to share a little about themselves along with an excerpt from their erotic collaboration, Sinfully Delicious

.

Bio: Kameron and Dirk, a passionate couple in and out of the bedroom, has decided to join forces and bring their erotic imagination to life with words. Their solo stories are electric; however, the works they create together will practically sizzle off the page. Yes, they might live in a quiet suburb neighborhood, but they’re anything but tame and unadventurous. A fact you shall read and learn about soon enough. 
Contact info:
Blog
Facebook Author page

Goodreads’ links:

Kameron

Dirk

Amazon Author Pages:

Kameron

Dirk
 

Kam and Dirk collaboration – “Sinfully Delicious” (M/F)

 

Book Summary:

Christine’s been without a man for far too long, so she lets her BFF Jasmine talk her into speed-dating. Unfortunately, far too many of her dates are romantic non-starters — in the worst way. But all it takes is one… and when the right man comes along, he’s Sinfully Delicious.

 

Excerpt:

 

Wednesday Evening

 

It’d been two years, six months, and fourteen days since Christine had felt the loving touch of anyone but herself — not that she was keeping track. Which was the reason she’d allowed her best gal-pal, Jasmine, to talk her into heading out tonight and giving the speed-dating scene a try… again.

“Woo hoo, Christine. Come in. Are you with me?”

Christine studied her completed look in the glass door of the Midnight Rendezvous. She held the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder while she kept tugging at the hem of her dress, which barely covered her ass cheeks. “Jasmine, I can’t believe you talked me into this get-up. I’m literally popping out all over.”

“Babe, you look hot, so quit the bitching and stop tugging on it.”

Christine’s hands stalled and dropped to her sides. “How’d you know what I was doing? Are you lurking nearby?”

Jasmine’s voice rose an octave. “Hello, best friend here. I know you, and I know you’re freaking the hell out. Do me a favor and relax, because any man would be lucky to have you. Now, hang up and get your sexy ass inside.”

Christine gave herself a final once-over and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Thanks, Jasmine. You always know how to calm me down. Love you.”

“I love you too. Now go.”

Christine nervously inched her way over to the sign-up table, paid the twenty-dollar fee, picked up a nametag, and found an unoccupied chair. As the announcer went over all the rules of the event, she eyed the prospects and found several who looked attractive. Hope began to blossom. It seemed simple enough. Every two minutes a new man would sit down across from her and engage in a brief conversation. If she believed a connection was made, she would place his name on a card. The men would do the same, and if there was a match between cards, both parties would be notified through an email. “I can do this,” she mumbled.

The announcer rang the bell.

The first eligible bachelor, Bradley, sat down, and it was two minutes of pure awkwardness. His hands shook uncontrollably, and he wouldn’t stop apologizing. He refused to make eye contact and finally excused himself to the restroom, leaving her alone.

Christine couldn’t believe how badly the night was starting off. She tried to embrace Jasmine’s glass half full attitude and hope the next guy would at least remain seated for the entire two minutes.

Ding. A very handsome man with perfect features slid into the chair across from Christine. She noticed right off the bat he had no wrinkle lines, crow’s feet, laugh lines — nada. She found that odd until he spoke. Then it all became clear. Unlike Bradley, he didn’t say “Hi” or offer any other pleasantries. His gaze traveled from her face down to her chest, head tilting left to right, and then he spoke. “You have a beautiful face and body, from what I can see, for a woman of your age, but if you ever decide to fix your trouble spots, I’d be happy to give you a discount.”

Christine couldn’t believe her luck. She already doubted her looks, and now this man she didn’t know was judging her appearance? Great, just freaking great. If she were Jasmine, she would’ve been spewing words that would make a sailor blush; however, Christine hated public confrontations. Instead she put on a fake smile. “Don’t bother writing my name down.” Their remaining time couldn’t possibly end quickly enough for her liking.

Ding. “Thank God that’s over.” One look at the surgeon, and she realized she’d spoken aloud. She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could get the chance, he turned and walked away.

Prospective dates three through twelve were nice enough, but she knew they’d be no more than friends, and not the kind with naughty benefits. Her shoulders slumped in depression and she wondered why she’d let Jasmine talk her into this. A dozen men had come and gone but none lit a fire in her belly. Eyes downcast, she waited to hear the sound of a chair scraping the floor.

Instead, she felt cool glass press against her palm and a warm breath against her ear. “I didn’t know what you normally drink, but I sensed you needed something strong.”

Christine looked up into the most gorgeous eyes she’d ever seen. They were almost hypnotic, and his voice was equally distracting, drawing her in. She was clueless about how long she stared at him like a lovesick puppy, but it was long enough that another bachelor took his position for the two-minute meet and greet. Spell broken, she addressed dreamy eyes first because she had to know his name. “Umm, yes, thank you, Mr…”

“You may call me Sin.” Then he stood upright and kept all his attention on her but clearly directed his words to the gentleman across the table. “If you were a smart man, you’d start the conversation by telling her how gorgeous she looks tonight. Let her know no other woman has ever looked lovelier in your eyes. That from the moment you saw her, you wanted nothing more than to feel her lips against yours, to touch her and be touched by her.”

Christine grew more aroused with each word Sin uttered. She’d come out tonight looking for a spark, and damn if she hadn’t found a five-alarm fire. Did Sin realize the effect his words were having on her?

He winked, and her silent question was answered. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The other bachelor cleared his throat. “Yeah, thanks for the advice, but I don’t need it. I’ve got this.”

Sin’s face tensed up. “Not yet, you don’t.”

Guest Author: Freddy MacKay’s Christmas Blog Hop

Dec 23, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, holiday, m/m

Snowed In by Freddy MacKay

Blurb

When their families celebrate Christmas at his parents’ cabin, George receives one request from his boyfriend’s little sister, Courtney—break up with her brother. George is devastated that the cute as a button high school freshman has gone from loving to hating him with no explanation as to why, and insecurities about his relationship with Max rear their ugly head.

 

Max tries to distract and comfort George, but Courtney becomes more hostile and less festive by the minute, upsetting everyone in the house. George leaves to do some last minute shopping and to give Courtney some space only to run into his ex-boyfriend, which further complicates everything.

 

Sometimes mixing Christmas with family is a toxic combination.

Excerpt

 

“Are you sure this is okay, Kyle?” Max asked for the hundredth time, even as he packed his suitcase. “We don’t have to switch.”

George smiled, he wanted to agree with Max, but he knew Kyle had been right to suggest flipping rooms. Staying next to Courtney’s room would be a mistake, especially after her tantrum downstairs. They needed to move so the rest of the week would—hopefully—run more smoothly for everyone. The cabin was a decent size and the walls were thick, but not thick enough or big enough at the moment. The space felt enclosed and suffocating, something George never imagined himself feeling in his own bedroom. They needed to get out and away before more damage could be done. That thought alone created a chasm deep inside George, playing at his greatest worry—losing Max—and he didn’t want to taint his room further with unhappy thoughts and concerns.

His old room held a lot of memories for him. All of them good and exciting but, unfortunately, Courtney’s hissy fit had contaminated his youthful innocence and wonder. George looked around, trying to recapture pleasant memories, molding them back into something acceptable. Geeky science posters, pictures, specimens, and awards cluttered the space, his room virtually untouched by his parents except for little changes here and there.

Like the bed and closet.

As soon as someone walked into the space the closet could be found to the right. The folding doors looked new so his parents must have replaced them recently. They had also removed the twin bed he grew up in and put a queen in its place, making the room a tight fit. At least they’d put it where he’d kept it in his youth.

George didn’t like the idea of his room changing too much. The consistency calmed him and made him feel welcome, something Courtney had nearly ruined.

His desk and shelves lined the wall connecting to his parents’ room while his bed was pushed into the corner on the opposite wall under the window. Which meant his bed was against the wall it shared with the room Courtney stayed in. Grimacing, George shook his head.

George hadn’t said it, but another factor influenced his agreement to the move. He didn’t know how comfortable he felt sleeping next to someone who hated his guts. And Courtney loathed him very much at the moment. Why, George didn’t know, and he ached not knowing.

He pulled Max into his arms. “No, we need to go. Throwing us in Courtney’s face won’t help matters.”

“But we shouldn’t have to pack up and move just because she’s being a twat!” protested Max.

George winced at Max’s name calling, wishing his lover didn’t always go for the jugular when he felt wronged. Or now that he and Max were together, when someone tried to hurt George. Max’s slow-simmering temper and tenacity could be worrisome sometimes.

They had to move to help alleviate the stress, though, so George focused on holding firm about changing rooms.

“Yes, it does,” George argued. “It’s Christmas and the last thing we need is everyone fighting. Besides, I don’t know how I feel about sleeping next to someone who thinks I’m infecting you.”

Max’s back went rigid. “Sorry, Geeves.”

“Not your fault,” he answered sincerely. “We’re not running away from anything, just compromising, okay? Right now, we need to be cautious on how we deal with Courtney. Tomorrow is Friday. We’ll be out of the house shopping, and hopefully Courtney will cool off. Saturday is Christmas Eve, which means we don’t have time to duke things out with your sister and have everything be hunky-dory. I don’t want Christmas ruined for you or the rest of your family because Courtney can’t handle us together.”

“I don’t like how she treated you like scum,” said Max dejectedly.

“And for that I love you even more.” George squeezed Max before nudging his boyfriend back to the bed. “Finish packing back up. We’ll talk to your parents in the morning and see what to do next. I’m tired and just want go to bed and hold you.”

Max glanced over his shoulder, worry lining his face. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.”

“I’m not,” said George immediately. “I’m waiting to finish freaking out when we’re alone.”

Max’s hands stilled and he turned. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

George nodded. “I’m just kind of numb right now. The whole thing feels surreal, like it hasn’t really happened. After everything I went through with Joe and always having to hide our relationship and then being with you and not, then the attack on campus, and now your sister. It’s all jumbled inside of me.”

George looked down at his hands, knowing he was making a mess of things. He couldn’t put into words what he felt or wanted to say.

He threw up his arms in defeat. “Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

He dropped onto the bed and rested his forehead on his palms. He hadn’t made any sense. His mind was completely muddled. Courtney’s tirade against him had really hit him hard. At CRU he could expect that kind of bigoted behavior considering how conservative the campus and community were. He’d just never expected it from someone he considered family.

Maybe that’s why it’s affecting me so much? Why it feels I’m being ripped in two?

“I’m gonna check my room one more time, see if I left anything,” Kyle said softly, the door clicking shut quickly behind him as he left the room, leaving George and Max to themselves.

Max stroked his fingers down the side of George’s jaw, cupping his chin and lifting it up so their eyes met. For a while, they only gazed at each other. George didn’t know what to say to his lover. How could he apologize for ruining the evening? How could he fix his problems with Courtney? George wanted more than anything to forget the night ever happened.

“Lie back,” Max ordered, pulling George from his increasingly depressed mood.

George complied without a second thought, flinging his arms across his face.

“Roll over.”

Lifting his arms, George’s gaze met his lover’s in query.

Max smiled. “Trust me.”

“Yes, master,” replied George, teasing before turning over onto his belly.

Max swatted his leg. “Ass.”

George wiggled his butt.

“Tempting offer, but no, this isn’t about that,” Max answered. “Hm. Maybe I should have thought this through a little more.”

“What?” mumbled George into the covers, trying to find a comfortable way to lie down.

“Take off your shirt,” Max ordered.

George glanced over his shoulder. “I thought this wasn’t about that.

Max winked and backed off of George. “It’s not.”

Kneeling, he whipped off his shirt before getting startled by Max’s hands circling his waist. He looked down, watching as Max undid his belt with practiced ease and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans.

“I’m starting to think you’re lying,” teased George, waiting eagerly for what would happen next.

“I’m not.” Max chuckled and kissed George’s back. “Now lie down.”

George obeyed, shaking his head.

The pop of a cap made him laugh. “Now I’m really convinced you’re lying, M.”

“Moisturizing lotion, asshole,” Max replied scornfully. “I’m going to rub your back. Help you relax before you freak out, though I’m starting to change my mind.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, oh.”

George jumped when the cold lotion made contact with his skin, but Max’s warm hands quickly followed. Max crawled up on the bed, settling over George’s ass. He rubbed in deep, hard circles then up and down George’s back. He groaned, loving the firm caress from his lover. George arched into the touch and closed his eyes.

Laughing low, Max leaned in. “You like that?”

“Yes,” moaned George.

Buy it here.

Mikela Q. Chase’s Rhea Part 15

Nov 15, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, m/f

Mikela Q. Chase (Amber Kell’s alter ego) is visiting today as part of her Birthday Bash. Below is Part 15 of her story m/f story, Rhea. Go here to find links to Parts 1-14 and look for more to come each day this month.

Rhea wrenched her arm free. “We aren’t getting married. I don’t know what kind of lame idea is forming in your head, future brother-in-law.”

Ooh it was fun to watch him wince.

“But we are going our separate ways and if we’re lucky we’ll only run into each other at the occasional family gathering. And, if you are really lucky I’ll resist the urge to gut you with my blade.”

The hammering started again.

“Enter.” Rhea yelled before Teven had the chance to lecture her again.

Married. Not in this lifetime. There was no way she was pinning herself down to one guy when there were so many out there. She hadn’t even sampled more than one of the men on this planet. With the number of moons on this planet she’d need much more tasting, comforting and red hot sex.

She didn’t have time to think of much else because two of her largest guards Peller and Rafe slammed their way in. They must’ve just arrived planetside and discovered her missing. The two cat shifters shoved the other guards out of her way. Rhea winced, so much for interplanetary relations. She’d fucked the king and they trounced his servants. They were off to a stellar start.

Two pairs of burning amber eyes glared down at her.

Rhea shrugged. “I guess I should’ve let you know where I was.”

Like she didn’t know about the tracking device they had embedded in her heel. She showed them her best “contrite” look.

“Try to remember next time.” Peller scolded gruffly.

Rafe nodded his angry expression already fading.

“Oh please, I can’t believe you bought that.” Teven glared at her. “If you’d skipped out on me I would’ve spanked you until you couldn’t sit for two days.”

Rhea lifted her chin. “Which is why I’ll never be yours.”

On that pronouncement she sashayed out of the room…only to come face to face with her sister.

“Tell me you didn’t sleep with the king,” Jamie begged.

“Yes darling tell your sister that lie she wants to hear.”

Jamie looked over her shoulder at the king. “She’s really good with a knife you know.”

Rhea smiled, she purposely didn’t turn around and see the king’s face. Better leave while she could still cling to her dignity with her last desperate breath.

“Come on sis, I’ll take you to your room and you can try to get some sleep. Even though you never do,” Jamie coaxed.

“She slept with me.” Teven’s voice could only be described as smug.

Rhea frowned as she realized the king was right she had slept quite soundly in the king’s arms.
Weird.

Rhea didn’t bother to answer the king, instead she hooked arms with her sister and walked away, her two guards trailing behind.

To give her credit, Jamie waited until they were out of earshot before she gave Rhea hell for being with the king.

“What were you thinking!” Jamie whispered. It was an angry whisper but quiet all the same. The cat shifter guards were probably the only people who could hear her.

“I didn’t know he was the king.” Rhea confessed after she was pretty certain her sister had run out of steam.

“It all happened really quickly and the magic was riding me hard.”

“Oh.’ Jamie didn’t have a response for that they both knew what bad decisions she made when she was trying to dull the power of the magic.  It was generally agreed among their people that Rhea had too much magic, but the only effective way of draining it was sex. That still didn’t stop her from denying her mother’s request to set Rhea up with a harem.

Of course picking up strange men who turned out to be kings?

Not necessarily a better choice.

Amber Kell’s Wandmaker Part 15

Nov 15, 2012 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m

Amber Kell is visiting today as part of her Birthday Bash. Below is Part 15 of her story m/m story, Wandmaker. Go here to find links to Parts 1-14 and look for more to come each day this month.

Wandmaker Part 15

Silvan kept a hand to Cebrus’s back and he rushed him back to the castle. He nodded to people who came to speak but brushed them off. No way would he lose his opportunity. If he gave Cebrus a chance the man would come up with some excuse to ditch him. He knew that without asking. The wandmaker had that jumpy wild-eyed look like an untamed horse ready to bolt.

They might be wand-bonded but his wand maker would be the one person in the world who could probably figure a loophole for their situation. Silvan had no wish to be unbound and he figured by keeping Cebrus off balance he won’t be able to come up with an escape plan.

Silvan opened the door to his room and pushed Cebrus through the doorway. Now wasn’t the time for subtlety he needed to cement their bond before Cebrus wiggled out of it.

He slammed the door behind him, keeping an eye on Cebrus. “Strip. I need to claim you properly,” he demanded.

A smile curved Cebrus’ lips. “And what makes you think I want to be claimed?”

“Baby you’ve been traipsing around the country dying to be claimed, I’m just the lucky bastard who got to you first.”

Cebrus laughed. “You’d be surprised at the number of offers I’ve turned down.”

Silvan smiled. “Not in the least but apparently they weren’t worthy if you rejected them.”

“Hmm, you might have a point,” Cebrus agreed.

“I have a very nice one and if you get naked I can share it with you.”

Cebrus snorted. “Oh, that was horrible.”

Silvan pulled Cebrus into his arms. “I am a horrible, horrible man, let me show you how much.”
The first brush of Silvan’s lips across Cebrus’s sent a shiver down Silvan’s spine. Need raced through his body faster than a stampede of stallions. He’d never had anyone spur him to passion through a simple touch before. Silvan knew he’d do anything to keep Cebrus by his side.

Even help on a quest. He might doubt the wisdom of Cebrus’s plan but he’d do nothing to stop him. Besides even if they trekked all across the world there were no guarantees they’d find Cebrus’s mythical tree.

Silvan ran his hand beneath Cebrus’s shirt sighing into his mate’s mouth as the feel of silky skin met his touch. Unlike the hard muscled bodies of a fellow knight, Cebrus had a leaner form. As if he were created for Silvan’s pleasure between the sheets instead of on the battlefield.

A moan vibrated their lips. Pleased, Silvan lapped at Cebrus’s mouth trying to lure the sound out again.

Tightening his grip, Silvan rubbed his body against his mate’s slighter frame.

This was what he’d been born for; ruling a kingdom, and loving this one man.

Silvan shoved the straps off of Cebrus’s shoulders. His pack hit the ground with a loud thunk.

“You better not have snapped one of my wands,” Cebrus scolded, however his tone didn’t hold the annoyance his words implied.

“If I did I promise to make it up to you.” Silvan bit at Cebrus’s neck, leaving a satisfying mark of ownership on the long bare length of skin.



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