Sunday, January 26, 2020

One night ~ Weekend Writing Warriors from Not Today #BDSM #SundaySnippet #WeWriWa

Happy Sunday, everyone!

Today I'm sharing a snippet from Not Today my story in the Billion Dollar Love Anthology by Evernight Publishing. The cover was released yesterday and I want to show it off :)


“One night, Amalia. Unbridled passion. Pain, pleasure, a high of endorphins you’ll never forget.”
“Forget it,” she said.
“Why? I can understand your rejection from the other night, I was a jerk, but why are you saying no today when there’s clearly a connection between us?”
Amalia smirked.
“There is.” She shrugged. “But someone, sometime in your life has to say no to you.”

Read more awesome Weekend Writing Warriors snippets at 


Thursday, January 16, 2020

Book Spotlight on Hell's Mercy by Katherine Wyvern #BDSM #FreeRead

Twelve years after Ivory first visited the Black Carnival, Neu Venedig has changed: wilder, crazier, and even more surprising, this new Carnival has even old hands like Lukan staring wide-eyed.

I have bittersweet feelings about this story, which first appeared in an anthology put together for the benefit of Doris O’Connor and her family in the final days of her struggle with cancer. There will always be this great sadness connected to it.
On the other hand, it was great fun to dive back into the world of Cydonia, the Sci/fi series that started my published author career in 2011 (2011? Eight years ago? How did that happen?) with the release of Black Carnival.
It’s a great pleasure to re-release the story, with a new edit and this fabulous cover by Jay Aheer.
I am terrible at short stories, because my world building addiction always brings me to write a bit more, and a bit more, and then the short story becomes a full length novel. I thought it might be easier to write a short story in a pre-existing universe, but, no even so, the world and the characters still managed to do their own thing. Everything changed in the telling. Neu Venedig is a wholly more interesting place now, and I am wondering if it is not time to write a new full length instalment in this series… all this just to say, that this story was a tremendous fun ride for me, quite the surprise, and brings me full circle, in a certain sense, connecting my current Transgender Romance theme, to my debut novel. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Wealthy, charismatic, influential and damn near immortal, Lukan Løvensgård looks like natural Dom material, and in fact he has never, but never submitted to anyone in his long life. But among all the bizarre and fantastic people roaming the far planet of Cydonia, there is one who stole his old, cold heart. 

And her love comes at a price. Complete surrender. 

With her impressive presence and unusual equipment, Helenay is the hottest and trendiest professional Domme in Neu Venedig and she hardly has the time to top for pleasure these days.  But she knows what her old friend Lukan needs, something he never suspected. Release from power.
#transgendererotica #futanari

He knew all her favorite toys by their sting, and the sound they made when they met his flesh.
Helenay slapped the split strap of thick leather hard on his buttocks and then down his thighs, in a neat crisscrossing pattern. She could leave crisscross switch welts as neat as a corset’s lacing if she wanted. At his knees, she stopped, and Lukan breathed deep. The sharp sting of the tawse was pure fire, but it faded quickly enough. Still, his skin was now definitely well primed for the real pain.
He breathed hard.
Hell placed a hand between his buttocks and stroked the edge of his butt plug again and again, sending it to stroke his prostate, over and over, while at the same time, gently pulling on the cord that tied his cock and balls. He groaned, feeling waves of pleasure and the afterglow of pain mingling in his flesh and in his brain, addling him. Soon he would hardly know the difference between the two. He groaned again, not knowing anymore if he had come for the pain she could give, or the pleasure she so often withheld. Sometimes she would give both. Perhaps he would beg for it today.
Yes, he would certainly beg if he had to.
“Turn,” she said, and he let go of the wall, gingerly, because his knees were soft. Her tawse was still in her hand, and from one end of it, on a thin silk cord, hung a long suede tassel. Not quite a flogger, but a vicious enough little thing, when one was standing naked with a swollen glans reaching out, begging to meet that deceptive velvet kiss. He took a deep breath and then gave a sharp gasp when the first soft swish of the tassel hit his engorged cock. The suede was neither rough nor stiff, but his stretched, blood-filled skin exploded in pain at its kiss. The pain was so close on top of the pleasure he had been savoring a moment earlier that he could not quite tell them apart. The almost-gentle, almost-intolerable flogging went on and on, perhaps for only a few seconds, but he was jolting back at each blow, crying out, whimpering. When she stopped and palmed his balls again, he actually screamed, although she did nothing, just held them.
“You are so full of it today,” whispered Hell, seriously.
“It”   was the unbearable tension that mounted inside him between their encounters, as he knew well.
“Why?” she asked.
He shook his head wretchedly. “I don’t know. Help me. Help me, please.”
She sighed, and kissed his forehead for a long moment.
Moments like this, long or short, made his heart stop. Neither he nor she were made for tenderness, really. And yet it materialized, from time to time, out of the blue, unexpected, unexplained, often unacknowledged. Half the time, they almost pretended that it hadn’t happened. A secret they kept, even from themselves.  
Less explicit excerpt if preferred :
Three-hundred years after the demise of Earth-that-Was, the Galaxy’s central  government has banned all artificially modified and enhanced humans. Only the remote planet of Cydonia has finally dissociated itself from the ban. The wild revelries of the Black Carnival in the Cydonian capital, Neu Venedig, have now taken an even wilder turn…

On the fifth night of the Carnival, Lukan strolled out of his high walled courtyard, twirling his walking cane in the air and humming Johan Caspar Ferdinand Fischer’s “Praeludium VIII” to himself. He had been playing it on the harpsichord again and again that afternoon, and its slippery, silvery perfection still clung to his inner ear like a haunting voice.
He crossed a little bridge into a narrow calle, then turned right into a slightly wider canal-side, lit by glowing fire-bulbs and the shimmering reflections from the dark water. The place was quiet, and the music hummed on in his head, undisturbed. Even at the height of the festivities, it was almost deserted in this part of Neu Venedig. He had carefully chosen his 16th century palazzo to be well out of the raving crowds.
He skipped from flagstone to flagstone along the edge of the canal, almost like a child, almost like a dancer, following the music that he alone could hear. The long tails of his embroidered coat flapped behind him as if charmed by the inaudible melody. His ghostly shadow flickered in and out of existence as he passed streetlight after streetlight.
It was Carnival, and he was going to Hell.
The Praeludium in his head gave way to an altogether more spirited Rigaudon, and he skipped faster, actually counting, two, three, four—he skipped a larger flagstone—five, six seven. Eight, nine, heaven.
Hopscotch. A forgotten game, like the music was forgotten, like the harpsichord was forgotten, ghosts of a dead world, long, long ago. But he was alive, and he remembered. He had been alive a long time, far longer than his looks suggested.
The night was cold, and he was as taut as a violin string, ready to snap with ache and longing, and something else, too, a sort of mute grief he didn’t want to acknowledge but that haunted him all the time, subtly gnawing at him.
But he was going to Hell, so all would be fine tonight. Soon, he would be all right, freed from that silent sorrow, and released into flaming brilliance.
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Monday, January 13, 2020

Book Spotlight on Project X by Cheryl Headford #GayRomance #ScienceFiction

Morgan Bentley is a bastard. Matthew knows this absolutely—until he doesn’t.
Matthew and his friend Cory are thrilled to attend one of the most prestigious universities in the UK. On their pre-entry visit, they met Morgan Bentley and his stuck-up friends. Matthew takes an instant dislike to the arrogant, conceited, self-obsessed, beautiful, intelligent, and charismatic boy. Throughout the next year, Matthew harbours his dislike, never missing the opportunity to complain to his best friend, Cory, what a bastard Morgan is.

Then, an unexpected turn of events catapults Matthew, Morgan, and Cory into a nightmare, and all the things Cory had said about Matthew’s true feelings about Morgan come crashing down on his head, and he realises that what he thought was hatred and anger was, in fact, growing attraction and begrudging admiration. But when the deadly nature of the elusive Project X is revealed, it seems their budding romance is doomed before it begins, as one of them is unlikely to survive.

 Author Bio
Cheryl was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Cheryl has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her family and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created in play.
Later in life, Cheryl became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller was the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.
In present times, Cheryl lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son, dog, bearded dragon and cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. She’s never been happier since she was made redundant and is able to devote herself entirely to her twin loves of writing and art, with a healthy smattering of magic and mayhem

Morgan Bentley was a bastard. An utter, complete, A-one, cut-glass bastard. He was arrogant, selfish, cold, standoffish, cruel, and completely heartless. His history was peppered with broken hearts and broken people attesting to the fact. There was no doubt about it—he was a bastard.
Morgan didn’t have any friends. What he had was an entourage: people who cared less for the person he was than for the prestige his company brought. At the moment he had a girlfriend, the undoubted Alpha Female of the university, a bitch called Charlotte Lethbridge, whose father owned half of Mayfair. The relationship wouldn’t last, though. They never did. And next week it could just as easily be a boyfriend.
No one ever said no to Morgan. No one outside his circle of “friends” ever said anything at all unless he invited them to, which he rarely ever did.
Cory often said Morgan was sad—he had to be. He had to be lonely and sad because he had no real friends, no lasting relationships, no one to share with. Not like us. Sometimes I had to stop myself laughing when he said that. Morgan Bentley sad? Not bloody likely. He had everything. I mean everything.
His father was a research chemist, heading a huge multinational corporation. They manufactured drugs and engaged in research projects, sometimes for the government. I think that’s why Cory was so fascinated with Morgan. He was getting a degree in biochemistry and wanted to be a researcher himself. Cory was awesome...but he had flaws, and his fascination with Morgan was one of them. Personally, I wouldn’t care if I never saw his smug face ever again. Hell, I’d have been so much happier if I hadn’t.

For a different perspective on how Morgan felt about that initial meeting you might like to read the Prequel. This gives away spoilers if you haven’t read the book, but is a nice, currently free,  introduction to the boys and how their different perspectives work.

Saturday, January 11, 2020

To cover a scar~ Weekend Writing Warriors Snippet from Spread #BDSM #Romance

Happy Sunday, everyone!

Today I'm sharing a snippet from Spread (Lust, Love and Darkness). I've just started writing the last book in the series and though progress is slow, it's still ongoing.


She didn’t comment, no doubt too nervous at this point to say much. The first time he’d shown anyone his art he’d also been scared shitless. The file loaded and opened. His eyes widened. The shading, the contours, the bird had a vividness to it he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reproduce in ink. Vivienne was right. Betty was talented.
“You want that on your breast?” he asked, still trying to take in the detail of the picture and envision it on flesh.

“Yes,” her answer was adamant, and he glanced at her. “To cover a scar,” she said softly.

Read more awesome Weekend Writing Warriors snippets at 

Four days.

That’s the amount of time Betty has to hang on to her sanity. The time she needs until another of Antonio’s deathversaries rolls by. Four more days before the nightmares subside and the memories return to the past.

The problem is life around her doesn’t stop, and when she meets Rayden, long forgotten passion sparks to life. But can she move on with Antonio’s ghost looming over her?

Rayden hasn’t forgotten. Nor has he ever forgiven himself. When Betty comes into his tattoo parlor, he realizes who she is and even at the cost of his libido, he is determined to help her follow her dreams.

Time ticks fast and as their desire grows insatiably and the anniversary of Antonio’s death creeps closer, pleasure and pain blend into one.

Rayden doesn’t want to hurt her. But can he keep her from harming herself?

Available at:

vernight Publishing
Barnes and

and more!

Thursday, January 9, 2020

Book Spotlight on Shower you with Love by E.D. Parr #MMromance #paranormal

Shower You With Love
Words 23,636
E. D. Parr
MM romance, paranormal romance
Evernight Publishing January 2, 2020

Chris Everhart attends his best friend’s weeklong wedding festivities. He meets handsome, enigmatic, Owen, and in a haze of attraction ignores the strangeness surrounding Owen. Convinced he’s falling in love, Chris spends every moment he can with Owen, until on the final day of his best friend’s celebrations he discovers a heartbreaking and shocking truth. He and Owen can never be together.
Traumatized, lonely, Chris can’t settle into another relationship, and then, after two years of wishing he could feel the way he felt for Owen with another man, fate intervenes. He meets gorgeous, gentle Matthew.
Spooked, Chris is about to run from Matthew who reminds him so much of Owen, but Matthew asks Chris to dance with him.
In Matthew’s arms, Chris can’t ignore the feeling of belonging that rushes over him.
Will he take the risk to love again, or continue to yearn for a ghost?

Read a hot teaser

The pretty song playing was thankfully slow. Matthew took Chris into his arms.

Instantly, comfort blanketed Chris. He held Matthew and closed his eyes. It only took seconds before he rested his forehead on Matthew’s. The melody flowed over him. The vague fragrance from Matthew’s cologne, soft, and like summer sea breezes filled his head. He relaxed in the intimacy of being hip to hip with the gorgeous man.

Matthew’s murmur teased gently on his lips. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

Soothed by the physical contact with a man after long months of not dating and keeping his head down with work, Chris let the pleasure guide him. He soaked up the feel of Matthew’s strong shoulders under his palms. He closed his eyes to bask in the sheer masculinity radiating from Matthew. The lure of brushing his lips on Matthew’s in a gentle exploratory kiss tugged at him. Surprised by this reaction after he’d been willing to leave the bar, Chris drew his face a little away from Matthew’s.

Matthew looked into his eyes. “I’m desperate to kiss you.”

Chris’s stomach tightened. He tensed with the sexual need that rippled through his body. He kissed Matthew and lingered against his mouth, merging his lips with Matthew’s in one kiss after another as a delicious feeling of desire and belonging coated him.

Matthew returned the kisses, and murmuring soft sounds, he swept his hand down from Chris’s back to his ass.

Passion rose in Chris, his cock thickened, and he pressed his lower body onto Matthew’s.

The gorgeous man in his arms smiled onto his lips. “I want you. I know you want me. Come home with me.”

Chris burned with longing. He couldn’t resist. “My car’s on the side street. I’ll drive us.”

Copyright E. D. Parr 2020, Evernight Publishing

On new release special price at Evernight Publishing
OR available
Find E. D. Parr

About Owen. Notes from E. D. Parr
Owen is a ghost. He’s waited for Chris for around twenty-five years … someone who can see him, see his world—the world his spirit inhabits. Destiny leads Chris to discover Owen. He’s the one able to free Owen’s spirit and set in motion the life magic that will lead Chris to Matthew. Who is Matthew really?
The similarities in the character Matthew and Owen are sprinkled throughout the last half of this love story purposely because Matthew has an uncanny connection to Owen, in fact for those who believe in soulmates, Owen might well be Matthew. You decide.

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

Book Spotlight on Eden's Garden by D.F. Krieger #LesbianRomance #LGBTQ #BDSM

My transient lifestyle as a government contractor makes it hard to have permanent relationships, especially when I prefer to spice my life up with BDSM. When my life-long friend, Rhett, introduces me to the local group, they welcome me with open arms...and a handful of women looking for a partner. There's shy Wynn, sassy Maya, Cami the Kitten, and playful Denisha.

As our lives become intertwined, like roses in a garden, I'm left wondering if I can live without any of them. Each beautiful, unique woman fills my heart with their own special addition to our group rainbow. But my contract here is temporary, and I don't know if I can handle the heartbreak of them fading out of my life, like everyone always does after I move.

Eden’s Garden Excerpt

I eyed the dark-haired beauty with the angular features and pegged her instantly as a Brat while she continued to pop her chewing gum in rapid fire succession. She’d be a handful to tame, and the thought of it thrilled me. She blew bubbles and snapped them with far too much enthusiasm, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she awaited rejection. To be the last pick of the team.
They all did.
The air of dejection that surrounded these women stirred a deep, unknown emotion in me. A fierce desire to protect them, to show them the acceptance they craved, rose up with a startling surge.
“I know this is a little odd,” Abe said as he slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. “But you’ve all come to me asking for help, and doing things different might be the solution.”
The girl with the gum blew another bubble and popped it. The sound ricocheted through the room like a gunshot, and a woman with soft blonde hair tipped in pink who sat at the end of the table with her gaze on the floor winced.
“Sorry, Wynny,” the gum girl said, and her tone implied a genuine apology.
“S’okay,” the blonde responded in a whisper.
Abe cleared his throat. “Why don’t we run through intros? Eden, would you mind getting us started?”
I smiled at him, and kept that smile as I swept my gaze across the four women in front of me. “Hello, ladies. I’m Eden. I’m down here from DC for a twelve-month work contract, and I’m hoping to find a play partner. I’m very flexible on what I like, and have been in the life for years. I am a Domme, but I promise I’m not an aggressive dominant. If you need references, there are several people in the group who know me from DC. Anything else, just ask.”
A heavy pause hung in the air, and I could feel them studying me. Weighing me to see my worth in their own heads. I gave them that time, sensing they needed it. Somehow, I held a sneaky suspicion these women were single for reasons beyond their kinks. Each one stood out as a bit of an oddity, which didn’t necessarily mean a bad thing.
“I’m Denisha.” The pink-haired girl I saw Boi coloring with earlier stuck out her hand, and I shook it without hesitation. Her warm, brown skin felt like silk against my palm. “I’ve only been around ‘bout a year. I’m a Little, and um…I guess that’s that.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Denisha.” I gave her an encouraging nod and shifted my attention to a quiet, auburn haired, petite woman next to her.
“Is it my turn?” she asked, glancing at me. “My name’s Cami. I… I like…” She stared at her lap as her cheeks turned an adorable shade of red. “I like to meow and stuff or be a maid. I work at a shelter, and I really want a Mistress who will pet me.”
Pet play as a cat? Adorable! “Hello, Cami. Nice to meet you.” I turned my attention to the dark-haired Brat.
Gum girl snorted at Cami and rolled her eyes. “Maya. Tease me, beat me, if you wanna teach me,” she sing-songed, and I recognized the underlying jingle from a kid’s show popular in my youth.
Oh, pretty girl. Do you even realize you are a Brat? “Hi, Maya. A pleasure.”
That left one more person to introduce herself. The timid blonde nearly hugged her knees. Her gaze never left the floor. If I’d labeled Cami as shy, this girl could be the epitome of agoraphobic. Maya gave her a gentle nudge and the girl started, as if the physical contact shocked her.
“I’m… I’m….”
“This is Wynny,” Maya supplied. From the way the blonde shot her a grateful look, I gathered Maya stepped in for her a lot. “She likes stuff like wax, feathers; that sort of thing. Isn’t that right?”
Wynny’s silent nod confirmed this.
They were all going to require the extent of my skills as a dominant in their own ways. The terrified blonde would need the most help learning to let go and enjoy herself, without a doubt. But all of them presented their own unique sets of challenges…and rewards.
“So, is this going to be like eenie meenie miney moe?” Maya asked.
I couldn’t let her get away with that snarkiness and establish dominance. If I did, it meant working double-time to earn her respect later. Easier to nip it before she managed a foothold to stand her cocky ass on.
“No, darling,” I said as I clasped my hands and rested them on the table. “This isn’t a school game where I pick the most popular or prettiest. If any of you want to give this a shot, we’ll set up dates and see how compatible we are in a one-on-one environment.”
“Any of us?” Denisha asked, her voice filled with surprise.
That got their attention. They stared at me with varying expressions of shock.
“You do realize we’re the group rejects, right? The unwanted fuck ups. Why do ya want saddled with us?” Maya demanded.
Elle shifted, her body language turning nervous, and I noticed Abe give her arm a soft, reassuring squeeze from the corner of my eye. He watched me carefully, and I knew this moment could make or break my reputation and acceptance in this group.
“You’re not fuck ups,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “You are all beautiful women with a unique set of challenges that I’m excited to conquer with you. All that remains between us and that, is whether you’ll give me a chance to show you what you can achieve.”

Available on KU