Monday, 27 August 2012

Just a Quickie

No, not that kind of quickie ;o) 
I’m over at the lovely Tea Cooper’s blog today talking about what I’ve been up to since New Voices 2011. Pop by and say hello.
XOXO

Wednesday, 22 August 2012

Brianna


The spotlight is on Linda Andrews today with her new release, Brianna. 

Love, lies, and an ancient Egyptian curse. Brianna Grey holds the key to mankind's destruction and someone is willing to kill for it. Having spent most of her life dying, one man's kiss has resurrected her desire to live. For US Treasury Agent, Duncan Stuart, love means death. He works alone, lives alone and plans to die alone until he meets Brianna again. Under the harsh Egyptian sun, Duncan will break all his rules to save her but will it be enough to overcome the secrets that could get them both killed?

Excerpt:
“Brianna, can ye hear me?” Panic fed the primal rage bucking through Duncan. He bound the fury. A treasury agent had nerves of tempered steel, control of iron. A white lock rested on her pale cheek. Peppermint-scented breath slipped past pink lips. She was fine. She had fainted, nothing more. Nothing more.
Yet she had not wakened.
“I had thought she would be accustomed to violence, especially after the tales she told of Arizona.” Miss Phillips’s whine sliced through his musings.
A man had been murdered, poisoned in front of a roomful of wealthy, influential witnesses. August would have been the likely suspect—it was his valet, after all. Except, he couldn’t have known his servant would be in the room, let alone would drink from the glass. So who was the intended victim?
He laid Brianna on the plush carpet and knelt beside her. He brushed her bangs out of her eye, sweeping aside the feather headdress.
And who was the poisoner?
He might have spied something if he hadn’t dallied over his evening dress, and what had his delay accomplished? Not a bluidy thing. His hair still stuck up a little in front. As for the noose around his neck, he could feel the ends brushing his jaw.
“Damn it, Brianna, wake up!”
“Señor Stuart?” Esmé pried apart the Van Sargents. Worry pinched her features, increased the pitch of her voice. Two men in ship’s uniform squeezed through behind her, parting the assembled crowd. An elderly man in a somber suit appeared and set a black bag on the table.
Ignoring the newcomers, Duncan leaned close to Esmé’s ear. “Has Brianna eaten anything tonight?”
Shock flashed in her brown eyes. Her gaze flicked to the corpse before meeting his.
“No, señor. The dinner, it has not been served.”
He nodded. Relief flooded him.
“I believe she has fainted.”
“There are smelling salts in our room.”
“Get them.”
“Are you a doctor, sir?” Curry and garlic permeated the air as the elderly man who’d arrived with the ship’s crew creaked to a stop beside Duncan. He leaned over Brianna with his ear near her mouth. “Peppermint,” he whispered, straightened then peeled the glove off her left hand. His index finger settled comfortably against the inside of her wrist. “An admirable heartbeat.”
“I’m nae a doctor.”
“Hmm, yet your prognosis is undoubtedly correct.” The man peered at Duncan over the gold rims of his spectacles. “The ladies do like to lace tightly, don’t they?” His Adam’s apple bobbed in the wattles of his throat. “Smelling salts should set Miss to rights. You’ve sent the companion to fetch them, hmm? ”
“That won’t be necessary.” Sir Reginald stepped forward. “Mrs. Van Sargent, the salts, if you please.”
Duncan grabbed the small glass bottle—he didn’t trust the missionary any more than he did the others. Glass scraped glass as he plucked the stopper free. Ammonia invaded his nose, stripped the moisture from the back of his throat. Definitely smelling salts. He shoved them under Brianna’s nose.
She winced, turned her head and coughed. Her eyes flickered open.
“Duncan. Wh-what happened?”
“You fainted.”
“You are very much mistaken.” She shoved herself into a sitting position, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and straightened her bodice. “A Grey does not faint.”
“It’s alright, dear.” Mrs. Van Sargent tucked the bottle back in her purse. “I daresay, if Mr. Stuart hadn’t caught you you would have crashed right into the table.”
Movement caught his eye. At the doctor’s nod, the burly crewmen lifted the body. Duncan shifted his weight to block Brianna’s view. Her lips parted; her eyes grew round. He had acted too late. She had seen the corpse.
“That man.” She pointed to the blanket-draped body with her bare hand. “He...”
“He’s dead, dear.”
“Choked to death,” Van Sargent added with relish.
“Such a terrible tragedy,” said Miss Phillips, dabbing her dry eyes.
“Sir Reginald doesn’t think it will prolong our stay aboard the <i>Osiris.”
Duncan’s skin crawled as Mrs. Van Sargent beamed down at them like a goddess spreading her benevolence.
“But he—“ Brianna’s nails dug into Duncan’s arm.
”Choked to death.” He kept his voice firm, his tone final. Brianna had been around death most of her life, was intimately acquainted with most of its faces. He wouldn’t allow her knowledge to get her killed. 

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Expect the Unexpected

Ever had that feeling that you’re drowning? Suffocating. Panic tightening your throat as you come closer and closer to deadlines? Yeah? That is exactly how I’ve felt the last few weeks.

I’ve severely neglected my blog, give or take a few fabulous spotlights by fellow authors, but other than that, I’ve been too swamped.

Everything seems to be happening NOW and it’s all urgent and needs dealt with yesterday. All my social networks have gone down the pan, my social life is non-existent and sleep…sleep is something I used to do.

Can I just say this is not an ‘aw poor me’ post. I’m chuffed to bits and wouldn’t change a thing for the world!

So why am I feeling like this? Well…

First up, I had my final line revisions for my October release, The Monster of Fame. But, my editor did mention it was the last chance I had to change anything so, of course, I read it meticulously. Twice.



Then, I received edits on my other (we’ll say January) release, Isle of Sensuality. I’ve to get these back in three weeks. It’s been so long since I’ve read this, and can’t wait to get stuck in to Cait & Jake’s story. Unfortunately, that’s not all I have on just now…

My lovely editor at Mills & Boon approved the partial I’ve been working on for RIVA, and the full is due by the end of September! Alexa & Enrique’s (Ric) story is set in Marbella, and Alexa is mid-girlie holiday. She’s a bit wild, very bubbly and doesn’t have much of a filter on what comes out of her mouth. Needless to say, I already love her! Ric’s a bit harder to peg, but he’s a work-a-holic, has a shady past and needs a PA for the next month. After ending up in her knickers in his penthouse, then embarrassing him at a glam charity doo when he’s networking, Ric decides to punish Alexa with the role as his dogsbody. Still ironing out the details on this one, but having such fun writing it!

Oh, and I can’t forget Never Say Never, the second book in The Price of Fame series (The Monster of Fame being the first). I’m having a tough time getting to know Sander. He’s emotionally shut off—or so he thinks—but his actions contradict his thoughts. I love Chloe, the heroine. I’m really getting to grips with her as a character. She’s kind, self-less, but still has hang-ups and flaws. I can’t wait to get dug into their story, but looks like it will have to go on the back burner for a while.

So, lots to do and so little time! Thought I’d stop by and let folks know I’m alive though! Will come up with a spectacular post soon though, full of wonderful advice and everything I’ve learned thus far. Promise :o)

xxx

Monday, 20 August 2012

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway - Bound By Pleasure

Another fab read from Lacey Wolfe. Can't wait to get stuck into this one!

Read on to the bottom and enter the raffle to win a copy!


Bound by Pleasure by Lacey Wolfe


Can Megan let her guard down enough to experience the pleasures Greg has to give?


Megan thinks she knows all about the BDSM lifestyle. Her best friend is active in it and she is an erotic romance author who writes about the lifestyle. So when Megan decides to explore it first hand, she learns quickly that everything she thought she knew, she didn’t.

Greg isn’t your typical Dom. He’s an artist and his life is anything but organized. He likes Megan from the start. She’s honest and he sees something in her. The more time he spends with her, the more he finds himself acting in ways he never has before. He decides to see if she might feel the same way, but the more he pushes to get her to open up, the more it seems she’s stepping away.

Can Megan sort out her feelings before it’s too late?




Excerpt:

Turning off the car, Megan grabbed her purse. She quickly checked her makeup and hair in the rearview mirror. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of her car and headed for the front door. The house was gorgeous and the yard was well taken care of. Once she made it up the stone walkway, she saw that the door was ajar. Strange.

She pushed it open and called out and was greeted by a deep voice that echoed from somewhere in the back. He directed her to go to his study which she would find to her left.

Well, she had made it this far, and he knew she was here—there was no turning back now. Once again she took a deep breath, and she made her way to his study. The door was closed when she found it, so once inside the room she made sure to shut it back.

Megan couldn’t believe the sight of his office. It was in complete disarray. Not one bit of organization. There were half started paintings on canvases scattered here and there, and piles of paper stacked on the bookshelves and desk. Perhaps it was best to get out of there. She couldn’t understand why Dawn had recommended him. This was not what she’d expected at all.

Right as she was about to leave she heard the doorknob jiggle. Her eyes widened as she wondered what to do next. Should she meet him on her knees? Or simply take a seat in a chair since this was only an interview? She opted for the chair and sat just as he walked in.
It took every ounce of Megan’s self-control not to let her mouth drop open when she saw the man who presented himself in front of her. Once again, this was not what she had expected. In strutted a man in loose, ripped jeans and a baggy t-shirt. He had sandy brown hair that was long and tied back in a ponytail. His eyes were crystal blue. A gorgeous smile was plastered on his face as he took a seat directly in front of her on a bar stool.

“You must be Megan,” he said.

“I am.” She had no idea how to address him or what to say.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting.” He reached over and took a piece of paper from the pile on his desk. “I looked over your application, and I see that you only have a little experience in this lifestyle. Have you ever had a Master?”

“No,” she responded.

Greg’s eyes drifted up and down her body. If she wasn’t feeling self-conscious before, she definitely was now.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“You have to be honest with me or else I won’t even consider you. Trust is very important in a relationship such as you’re wanting to enter into.”

Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, “To be frank, you’re not what I was expecting.”
He chuckled. “Continue.”

“You’re so laid back, your office is not organized, and well, as I said, you are not what I was at all expecting.”

“Tell me then, what were you expecting?”

“A businessman with a powerful job.”



About the Author:
Lacey Wolfe has always had a passion for words, whether it’s getting lost in a book or writing her own. From the time she was a child she would slip away to write short stories about people she knew and fantasies she wished would happen. It has always been her dream to be a published author and with her two children now of school age, she finally has the time to work on making her dream come true.
Lacey lives in Georgia with her husband, son and daughter, their six cats and one black lab who rules the house.
You can find Lacey at the following places:
Her Site      Twitter    Facebook

And now for the giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Saturday, 18 August 2012

Spotlight - Five Alarm Lust by Elise Whyles

I’m thrilled to have Elise Whyles on my blog today with a sneak peak at her newest release. This book sounds HAWT.
Five Alarm Lust by Elise Whyles


Survivor Gillian Hilliard is finally healing from a nightmare past. Fearing no man will ever find her attractive, she hides behind simple attire and large glasses. When Gillian meets firefighter Jack Payle, she is instantly attracted, and enjoys a wild night of sex with him. But in the cold light of day she’s torn apart by guilt and shame, and retreats to the familiar comfort of her simple, if unfulfilling, life.
After years of chasing the wrong kind of woman, Jack is shocked by the instant attraction he feels for the mousy historian with shadows in her eyes and passion simmering beneath her surface. Jack can’t get past the lust firing his blood or the memories of her response to his touch, for passionate, sexy Gillian is everything he’s ever wanted. Are they strong enough to face down the demons haunting Gillian? Can she trust the man who holds her heart with her darkest secrets and accept his help to overcome the shadows of her past? Or will the darkness destroy them both?


EXCERPT:
 “That’s it, Miss Hilliard. As per your request, I left most of it down.” The young woman leaned down, her hand on Gilli’s shoulder. “You’re going to knock ’em dead.”
Gilli offered a short, weak laugh and patted the girl’s hand. “Thanks.” She slipped her glasses on and rose to totter toward the door on the stilettos her mother persisted she wear. As she exited, the door closed behind her with a click. Gilli turned, smacking face first into a tall, hard wall of flesh before her. Heat seared her body at the touch of his hands on the bare flesh of her back. Putting a couple of inches between them, Gilli glanced upward. Her heart dropped before galloping in place.
Dark brown hair curled over a tanned forehead, green eyes as dark as pine stared at her, bemusement sparkling in them. “Excuse me, miss.”
She shuddered at the slow drawl curling like a lover’s touch into her core. Her labia pulsed beneath the lace of her panties. A flush crept along her throat to heat her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide the wave of color washing over her face. She cleared her throat. “No, pardon me. Entirely my fault.”
Scurrying down the hall, she gasped at the sensitivity in her breasts. Heavy, full, the nipples throbbed beneath the layers of satin and lace. Desperate to cool her blood, she darted past a couple of women and into the ladies room. The thin metal door offered minimal protection as she locked herself into a stall. A thud filled the silence as she let her forehead drop and leaned against the icy metal and inhaled.
Gods above, Zeus in the flesh right before me. What I wouldn’t give to have him … but he’s not going…Arousal scorched along her veins, pooling between her legs and soaking her underwear. Like venom, her ex’s sneering tone filled her mind. You couldn’t turn a light bulb on, Gillian, sexless. You should get a boob job. Can’t count…
The soft clunk of the heavy public bathroom’s door opening preceded Barbara’s biting tone. “Gillian, don’t think I didn’t see you…”
An uneasy cringe escaped in spite of the relief at the shattered memory. Gillian squeezed her eyes shut. “Mother, can I not use the facilities without you harping at me?” Gillian smoothed her skirt down, rolling her shoulders forward in the hopes of hiding her erect nipples. “I’ll be therein a moment.”
“Well hurry up, they’ve already got everyone seated. Goodness, child, you’d think you’d remember this was my wedding!” The bathroom door clicked shut on her mother’s tirade.
With a roll of her eyes, Gillian stepped out of the stall, shot a look at her reflection in the mirror and inhaled.
“There’s no point in getting hot and bothered over the likes of him. He ain’t going to want you.” Gilli waved a hand at her reflection, a perfect imitation of her mother. “Horn-rimmed glasses, mousy-looking hair, notits. Didn’t Mike teach you a damn thing, Gillian? Men don’t want a mouse, they want a sex pot and you’re not it.”
With a quick shake of her head, she smoothed her skirt down, sucked in a deep breath, and pulled open the bathroom door. She glanced around carefully before darting into the hallway.
Pressed close to the wall, she took her place before her mother, feeling like an over-stuffed Easter egg as the wedding march began to play. A smile pasted on her face, she gripped the flowers in her hand tighter and began the slow but steady shuffle toward the preacher.
Focused on getting there without falling, Gilli gasped at the man standing next to the altar. Laughing green eyes watched her, his lips turned upward at the corners. A slight shadow covered his square jaw. The dark suit he wore clung to his broad shoulders, tucking in at his waist. She wondered if beneath his suit coat, his ass was as good as the rest of him. Embarrassed, she stepped back, narrowly missing tripping on her own gown’s hem. Her mother’s pointed clearing of her throat drew her attention to the woman sashaying along, the yards and yards of tulle and lace out of place on a woman in her fifties—who’d had six previous husbands and more lovers then Gillian thought healthy. The unspoken warning in Barb’s eyes pierced clearer than any shouting match could be. There would be hell to pay if any attention slipped from the bride.
“Typical.” Gilli glared at the flowers, disgust rolling in her nauseous gut. She offered a prayer the ceremony would draw to a quick end so she could ditch the shoes, the flowers, and find a quiet corner to relax in, with the help of an expensive bottle of champagne.
She shot a glance across the aisle, heat suffusing her face when she caught sex in a cummerbund’s eye. Screw the wine—what she wouldn’t give to get lost in him. Maybe if she’d been different… Pushing aside the vague thought, she focused on the drone of her mother’s voice as she spoke her vows.



Author Bio:
Born in a small community, Elise Whyles lives in Canada with her son and husband. She’s currently working on the next book in the Canadian Heros Trilogy as well as the next book in the paranormal romance series Forsaken. Elise writes in multiple genres, paranormal, contemporary, erotic, m/m. To learn more about her or to drop her a note please stop by her website.
Connect with the author:    Site     Twitter    Facebook

Friday, 10 August 2012

Call of the Wolf, by Kristy Centeno


I’m thrilled to have Kristy Centeno on my blog today with a sneak peak at her new release, Call of the Wolfe! On a hot scale of one to ten, this sounds sizzling...


Call of the Wolf by Kristy Centeno


When desire battles with the forbidden and passion overrules obligation, at the end of the night, which will win?

Victoria Bonvalet, a purebred werewolf, has no desire to mate to an alpha not of her choosing and after a one of a kind encounter with the mysterious blood lord Tristan Garland rattles her existence, she knows that she could never share any part of herself without love being the number one incentive.

Tristan, a vampire of over a thousand years, no longer cares much for the world or the creatures inhabiting it. But when he meets the beautiful she-wolf invading his deep woods territory, he realizes that it’s never too late to find your perfect match, even if she belongs to the opposite branch of all mythological beings. But even as they begin to explore their in-depth feelings for each other, can they find a way to be together without starting a war between two enemy species?



Excerpt:
Even as she took several steps towards her car, Victoria could still sense it getting closer. The scent emanating from this being wasn’t one she was used too. It was different, unique somehow. It was not unpleasant by any means, just different. The incredibly fast speed in which it traveled was another clear indication of its supernatural origins. No human on earth could move that fast. Victoria was certain of two things, this being wasn’t human and neither was it a werewolf. Then what could it be?
Victoria refused to be afraid even though she did not comprehend the nature of this being. It was different from what she was used to. All she had to do was identify what it was. Normally, she would rely on her keen sense of smell for that, but since she didn’t recognize this scent, it was nearly impossible to pinpoint what it was. The only supernatural creatures she was familiar with were her own kind, werewolves. But this thing hiding back there was no werewolf, of that she was absolutely sure.
Once Victoria was close enough to her vehicle, she stopped and turned to face the woods. It was dark out but she could see her surroundings very clearly. A slight breeze picked up, bringing this unknown being’s aroma in to fill her nostrils. It was strong and male, very male. If this being were a werewolf he would most certainly be an alpha, a powerful one at that. But this was no huge puppy, this was something else.
Victoria surveyed the area with her eyes. So far she detected no movement which meant this thing was still too far away to see. But it was getting closer by the second. The speed in which it traveled made her slightly uneasy. Werewolves were known to move fast but this thing moved faster still. She could sense it moving, gliding through the forest as if it was flying. She was utterly amazed by it and she hadn’t even seen it/him yet.
Victoria waited, her eyes focusing in on her surroundings. Her she-wolf abilities ready to strike if this thing presented itself to be a threat. She gripped her car keys tightly in anticipation of what would happen next. She waited patiently for it to show itself. She wasn’t looking for a fight, she didn’t want to ruin her outfit, but if push came to shove she wouldn’t hesitate. She was a she-wolf, therefore she was a fighter. She could defend herself quite readily. She didn’t need the pack to protect her despite her father’s beliefs.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed when she caught movement up ahead. At first, it seemed like one big blur moving from one side to another but then it started to get closer. The woods seemed to disappear as all she could see was this black and white mass moving towards her. She couldn’t make out any features because of the speed in which it traveled. Her entire body tensed as she readied herself for a fight. If this thing attacked her she would fight back. There would be no hesitation at all to use all her armor, and she was well packed.
Soon, the white mist finally appeared before her, a tall figure was now clearly identifiable. Victoria gasped as she caught sight of a man standing not twenty feet from her. She blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing any tricks on her. She noted, after opening and closing her eyes for like the tenth time, that there really was a man standing nearby. He didn’t move. He just stared at her with as much intensity as she was gazing back at him.
Even in the darkness encasing them both, she took in every distinctive feature of his. He was tall, as tall as the trackers from the pack usually were. Shoulder length hair as white as a hand full of snow framed the sides of his face. His eyes were a shade of blue so pale, they appeared almost translucent. Unusually whitish skin and a lean and well-muscled figure finished his physical description.
His inhuman eyes assessed her in much the same manner she did him. Victoria watched as the breeze toyed with his hair, bringing a few stray locks to caress his right cheek. Werewolves tended to have unique features but this being was unique even for her. His white hair, pale skin, and clear eyes made him look like a marble statue. Had it not been for the few strands of hair being tossed around his shoulders by the light breeze, she could have easily mistaken him for one.
“Who are you?” She managed to ask at last. “What are you?”
His eyes narrowed as she spoke but he said nothing.
“What do you want?” She asked angrily when she noted he refused to answer.
The man took several steps towards her then stopped. He cocked his head to one side as if he was having trouble hearing her. Victoria did not flinch or move as he approached. There was no need for her to back away like a frightened kitten. She refused to show any form of fear. Not that she feared him; she was more intrigued than anything else.
“I was once known as Tristan Garland,” His voice startled her; it sounded so deep and gruff that she couldn’t help but think that perhaps he used it very little.
“Once?”
He nodded.
“Why are you following me?” She dared to ask.
The being now known as Tristan eyed her with curiosity.
“I do not follow you.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “You invade and hunt in my territory.” He stated simply. She couldn’t tell whether he was angry or not. His passive face revealed nothing of what he was thinking. “You are the one trespassing, not I.”

Buy Links : Amazon   Barnes & Noble

Author Bio:
As a child, Kristy used to lose herself in an imaginary world by the means of a good book. Now that she’s all grown up, she gets to create her own fictional realms and make them come to life in ways that most readers might not expect.
 Writing has always been a passion of hers but she never had the opportunity do so until now. After trying out numerous options, she realized that writing was what she loved the most and so she decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, her very active imagination helped her achieve her goals of creating believable plots with some ordinary, and some not so ordinary characters that move the stories along in one way or another.
As she keeps achieving her dreams of becoming a published author, she divides her time in between four children and a very understanding husband.

Connect with the Author:   Site     Blog   Twitter  Facebook

Wednesday, 8 August 2012

Welcome Guest Blogger, Lillian Grant!


Lillian Grant is joining me on my blog today as part of her book tour for Male Review. Welcome Lillian!



When I started on this blog tour I was told write about anything. Surely it’s easy for a writer to write about anything.  Or maybe not.  I much prefer to hide behind my characters and my books than write about myself. I think most authors prefer to sit in a room by themselves and invent lives for other people. 

The lives I create are so much more exciting than my own. I spend my days stuck in an office doing boring stuff with numbers and tax legislation. The biggest excitement we get is when the muffin lady shows up or we get a fire drill. As soon as it hits one pm I rush to my car, drive to a nearby rooftop carpark and break out my netbook to escape to another world. I have no idea what the people who come and go with their groceries and other purchases think I am doing shut in my car, CD player blaring as I sit hunched over tapping away. The dirty concrete and steel disappears as I am whisked away to Rio or Sydney or some other exotic location where I meet up with the funny, eccentric and sometimes sexy people who frequent my imagination. When the hour ends I am sent back to reality to count the minutes until the working day is over and I can once again torment the cast of my latest novel.

Currently I am working on Hot Male, Book Three in my Reigning Men Series.

Book One, Male Order is the story of my hapless heroine Meg. Sleeping with her flatmate, Sam had been a mistake–becoming a strip club manager’s pimp was a disaster.

Book Two, Male Review continues Meg and Sam’s story. A nymphomaniac octogenarian great aunt, a frigid mother, and a BDSM male strip club, what could possibly go wrong?

Book Three, Hot Male is in final reviews. 

Male Review
Lillian Grant

Sam Stephens and Meg Riley are in love, and finally on the cusp of sex anytime, anywhere, anyhow. That is until Meg’s Great Aunt Maud, the octogenarian nymphomaniac, gets tossed out of the old folk’s home and moves in with them, closely followed by her polar opposite, Meg’s scarily frigid mother.
Meg’s best friend Laura convinces Aunt Maud to invest in Male Review, a BDSM-themed male strip joint. For Meg, it’s just one more step along the path to disaster, made even worse when former prostitute Michael is hired as the bar manager. After all, Laura’s last venture ended with Meg being arrested as a pimp. And Michael’s to blame for the crazies invading Meg’s home, and even worse, he still has the hots for her.
If she wants to get her life back, all Meg needs to do is find a new home for Maud, resolve the dispute between her warring parents, keep Michael at arm’s length, and rescue her relationship with Sam before it disintegrates completely. Male Review appears to be just one more problem to deal with, but perhaps it could provide an unexpected solution.


Excerpt: Chapter One

Meg rolled her eyes as a loud snort rent the air. She lifted her head, smashed a fist into her pillow, and glared at the comatose old woman lying next to her. This wasn’t how things were supposed to work out. Once Sam declared his undying love for her they should have ridden off into the sunset together. Instead, they jumped into her compact Korean car and hustled around to the old folk’s home to meet her mother.

Clearly it wasn’t her fault that St. Andrew’s had tossed Aunt Maud out. The whole disaster had been down to Laura and her stupid idea to start a male escort business. Meg went to the hotel to try and fix things. Given a few more minutes she would have un-cuffed Michael Monaghan from the bed and persuaded Aunt Maud elderly ladies had no need to use the services of a male prostitute. She might even have recovered Michael’s clothes so he could get dressed. Thank God her mother arrived at the old people’s home after the police left and she never got the whole story behind Maud’s eviction. Although, having her mother yell and show disappointment in her debauched daughter might have been a quicker and less painful punishment than agreeing to let Aunt Maud move in with her and Sam until she found a new home. To date, every old people’s home in Sydney, Australia had turned the crazy old lady away.

Meg’s mind turned to her new beau. They’d been on the cusp of sex any which way, anywhere, any time, and then, when Aunt Maud showed up, the sex fest was over. She couldn’t sleep in his bed because Maud would know what they were doing and Meg would be horribly embarrassed. How was he coping? Sam had needs. Big needs. Often needs. She hadn’t heard yips of “yee-haw” coming from his room since Aunt Maud moved in a month ago, so either he was suffering from a case of blue balls, or he’d learned to jack off quietly. The thought of him lying in his reclining chair naked with his fist wrapped around his hard, hot, heaving cock sent a heat wave through her body and a definite dampening in areas that had no business being damp when you shared a bed with your eighty-something great aunt.

Another loud snarl made Meg sigh loudly and check her alarm clock. She hadn’t planned on getting up until after eight as, on top of everything else, she didn’t have a job to go to, but sleep was impossible. Maybe an early morning snack would help. Yes, she was on a diet, but everyone knew calories consumed before seven in the morning didn’t count. Besides, she might check out the gym where Sam worked later, purely for exercise purposes. The thought of Sam and exercise wouldn’t cool her down, but Ben & Jerry were more than up to the job.

She climbed out of bed and dragged on her robe. One last look at Sleeping Beauty, sans teeth and wig, assured her Maud was dead to the world and she should get going while the getting was good. The door squeaked on its hinges, but Aunt Maud continued to saw logs. Meg pulled the bedroom door closed behind her and relaxed. In the last thirty days the only time she’d been without Maud was when either of them went to the bathroom. Except the hour she left her with Sam while she went to buy groceries. That hadn’t ended so well. She’d found Sam’s whimpering and begging never to be left alone with Maud again quite disturbing. The old girl seemed to think men were game for sex twenty-four seven, and Sam usually was, but not with octogenarians who had a penchant for pinching butts and ripping towels off freshly showered men.

Meg crept down the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen. The place shone. No one would fault Maud on her work ethic. She had cracked the whip for hours, only stopping her nagging when Meg had cleaned every surface until they could eat off it. So, she was a bit slap dash about housework, and Sam was no better, but who cared. Now the place didn’t feel like home at all.

After retrieving a large spoon from the cutlery drawer, Meg opened the freezer and bent over to find her favorite flavor made by her favorite men. Just as she reached inside to pull out a tub of Chunky Monkey, two hands splayed across her back and something rigid buried itself in her arse crack.

She’d recognize Sam’s particular brand of foreplay anywhere. He had a thing about bending her over and taking her from behind, but she wasn’t so hot on the idea with her head buried in the freezer and Maud likely to walk in at any moment. The old lady would never believe she had a platonic relationship with Sam if she found him buried up to his testicles inside Meg. Once her mother found out she had taken up sleeping with her male flat mate Meg would be moved into a nunnery, or Sam tossed out on his ear before either of them had a chance to explain. Her mother didn’t do sex, and neither did the rest of the family, if she had anything to say about it.

*

God, Meg was beautiful. How she could think otherwise escaped him. The sight of her abundant curves sent Sam’s already thumping pulse rate higher. Unable to believe his luck at finding her alone, and in such a seductive pose, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her still bent form. He slipped his hands inside the front of her robe. The fingers of his left hand edged inside her panties on a seek-and-plunder mission between her thighs, while he used his right hand to tweak her left nipple into surrender.

Maud was a pain in the arse. All his good work at not only finally seducing Meg, but getting her to lose her inhibitions, was coming unraveled. He missed her. His cock missed her. The bed felt empty when she wasn’t in it. Never before had he felt this way about a woman, but Meg was the one. He’d fallen hopelessly and passionately in love with her and he wanted to show her … hard and often.

Heat spread through his body. Oh, she felt so good. He fingered the dampness between her thighs and brushed his thumb over her nipple. Her breast was heavy in his hand. Her womanly curves sent a rush of desire straight to his already straining dick. She was his perfect wet dream. Warm, soft, and the girl had a mouth to die for, but that could wait for next time. He had no idea when he would get another opportunity like this. He growled in her ear and tugged her robe up the back of her legs, desperate to bury himself inside her.

“Sam. Stop!”

She wriggled out of his grasp and he groaned his disappointment. His stallion bucked at the gate waiting for the starter’s orders. The feisty bugger would put an eye out if it broke free of his very tight white boxer briefs.

He took a deep breath. “I’m dying here.”

Meg glanced at his bulging erection.

“We can’t. Maud might come through.”

Sam growled, “Fuck Maud.”

A giggle escaped Meg. “I’m sure she’d be a more than willing partner and at least you could get some relief.” She popped the top off the ice cream and filled the spoon. Maybe she hoped the cool dessert would bring them both back to their senses. She offered him the first taste. “Here, have some ice cream instead.”

He took the spoon from her and slipped it seductively between his lips then pulled it back out and slowly licked the remaining dessert from the stainless steel surface. The way she licked her lips and swallowed showed his actions were getting the desired reaction. Encouraged, Sam reached out, took the tub, and refilled his spoon. He leaned forward and brushed his ice cream cooled lips against hers as he whispered, “Coming?”

Meg squeaked out, “Not yet,” then followed him as he disappeared through the house.