A brand new series by New York Times Bestselling author, Kathleen Brooks. Government secrets are being sold and the newly-sworn-in President of the United States already feels out of options. Without knowing the full scope of the scandal, the president decides to turn to the one person he knows he can trust—former FBI Agent, Elizabeth… Continue reading Release day for Whispered Lies!!!
Sienna pushed open the door to the parking lot and froze. Ryan Parker was leaning against Detective Braxton’s car with his arms crossed over his muscled chest and his hip resting on the hood.
“Who’s he?” Detective Braxton asked quietly as she took him in. “Cop?”
“FBI. That’s Ryan Parker, Cole’s son.”
Detective Braxton shook her head. “I joined the wrong law enforcement group,” she whispered. “I guess that answers my question on if you need a ride back to Keenston. Or maybe you could drive my cruiser and I’ll go with him?”
Sienna chuckled for the first time that day. “You can have him.”
Detective Braxton looked between Sienna and Ryan. “It’s a shame, but I think his interest is already taken by someone else.”
“Don’t count on it,” Sienna whispered back before stepping in front of Ryan.
Mr. Global Leather has been murdered!
In the Grand Sterling Hotel of Midtown Manhattan, home of the huge annual leather/BDSM/fetish ball and contest known as Mr. & Ms. Global Leather, last year’s male winner lies dead on the floor of his suite, wearing only very frilly, bright yellow panties. Cormac “Mack” Steel made a lot of enemies in his year wearing the studded leather sash, not the least being his co-winner, Mistress Ravenfyre. But she is not alone – there are over 3,000 attendees at this year’s fetish-festooned event from all over the world, some of whom might have had some very personal issues with the corpse.
Enter Detective Rebecca Feldblum of the Midtown East Precinct. Assigned to this doozy of a case because, as one of New York City’s only out lesbian detectives, her lieutenant seems to believe these are “her people”. Shocked, amazed and alternately puzzled and amused, Detective Feldblum must navigate a world of doms and subs, masters and mistresses, pups and trainers, leather, latex and lingerie, and discover who murdered the late Mack Steel – and, she hopes, do it before the weekend is over and everyone goes home. In the process, she will discover more about the sexual underworld than she ever really wanted to know, and more about her own past than she could have ever imagined.
Written in the classic spirit of Sharyn McCrumb’s Bimbos of the Death Sun, The Killer Wore Leather is both an engaging mystery and a humorous glimpse into the world of modern, pansexual international leather/BDSM contests and conferences. Only Laura Antoniou could write The Killer Wore Leather. In addition to being the author of the best-selling Marketplace series of erotic novels, she has over 20 years of experience teaching, speaking to, and occasionally skewering the alt-sex communities around the world. With a wicked sense of humor, insider information and a twisted imagination, she crafts a spicy melange of mystery and mayhem!
The Killer Wore Leather is a deliciously tongue-in-cheek murder mystery set at a leather convention, allowing listeners into this private world of personalities and peccadiloes. It’s the kinkiest game of clue ever, with a sex toy as the murder weapon, and every leather man and woman lacks an alibi. Cleverly crafted and highly humorous, Antoniou is at her wicked best in this pause-resistant fetish fest. Laura is the best-selling author of the classic BDSM series The Marketplace, which has sold more than 400,000 copies and been translated into five languages.
©2013 Laura Antoniou (P)2013 Audible, Inc.
This is a sweet love story not just of Cami and Alex but also Cami and her cats… that sounds strange but the most beautiful, intriguing things of this story is the challenge of the interaction of wild cats and humans. Cami has dreamt all her life of working with tigers and wild cats, now… Continue reading The Right One by RM Alexander
Mano Jacobs stared at the full, round ass sticking out of his mother’s fridge and stopped dead in his tracks. Clad in a Hawaiian-print sarong, it swung from side-to-side keeping beat with Brother Iz on the radio, as the owner apparently looked for something to eat.
His gaze roved down her legs to her bare feet. White skin—albeit tanned as if she were a local. Not his sister, thank God. That was something he didn’t want to have to deal with right now.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and he noticed a dainty little bracelet with a dolphin charm. Her toes were painted a cool shade of blue that matched the lava wrap she was wearing. His attention traveled back up to her rump. A connoisseur of female rear ends, Mano thought this one particularly fine. Heart-shaped and just the right amount of flesh. It was just the kind of ass he liked to grab hold of.
Lust curled in his gut as he stepped into the kitchen. He padded up behind her as quietly as possible. His eyebrow rose as she sung along, using Hawaiian words like she were Kamaʻāina, or local. Hmm, must be one of his sister’s friends, all of whom were over the age of consent. His lips curved and his body heated with anticipation.
“Good morning.” His voice was abrupt.
She screamed and raised her head, thunking it on the inside of the fridge. He chuckled as she turned around. He took stock of her features and found them to his liking. Long red hair clipped on the back of her head, medium height, and gorgeous hazel eyes. Mano’s gaze slipped down her body and he felt all his blood head south.
The T-shirt she wore was knotted beneath her breasts, emphasizing them and showing him a delectable belly button. Her hips matched her ass. Not too full, but rounded and feminine. He could just imagine taking them into his hands as she rode him.
He looked up when she said his name but never got further than her full lips. Damn, the woman was a treat he would be glad to unwrap and eat.
“Mano, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Huh?” Oh, that was brilliant. “Do I know you?”
She laughed. Not a tinkle of a laugh, but a full-throated belly laugh. The sound of it shivered along his nerve endings. Every bit of moisture dried up in his mouth.
“Naw. I just know your name and you practically lived at my house before you went to the Air Force Academy.” When he still didn’t say anything, she quirked an eyebrow. “You know, I don’t think Pop ever forgave you for going Air Force.”
He blinked. Then blinked again. The sarcastic tone, the curve of her lips, along with the sparkle in her eyes clicked with a memory in the back of his mind. His world tilted slightly, and he tried to come to terms with the memory of the girl and the woman who stood in front of him.
Oh, there was no way this luscious piece of woman was knobby-kneed, computer geek Daisy.
“The one and only. But just as a warning, most people don’t call me that name without being hurt, but I’ll give you a second chance.”
The tone of her voice sparked a memory of the girl, too smart for her own good, with a quick mind and a dry sense of humor. It had been years since he’d seen her or her parents, but he never expected the geek to blossom into a knockout.
As he took another inventory of her looks, he saw her mother’s coloring and her father’s stubborn chin. Mano knew he should keep them in mind when looking at her, but all he could think of was pulling all that red hair out of her clip and running his hands through it. He’d love to see it against the sheets on his bed.
His body was humming with need and he couldn’t seem to pull himself back in control.
“Dee? Good Lord.” He took a step back. Then another. The more distance between them the better. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She swung her hip to shut the fridge door. He tried not to notice the little sexy move but that was just not working. Damn, the girl had gone and grown up on him. It was then he noticed the little belly ring sparkling from her navel. Lord have mercy, he loved belly rings.
“Well, it sure is nice to see you again, Mano. Been, what, eight years and all you can say is ‘what the hell are you doing here’?” She twisted off the cap to her water and gestured toward the table with her head. “Leila and I went shopping at the Aloha Swap Meet this morning. Doing some Christmas shopping.”
He noticed a pile of plastic shopping bags in the center of his mother’s kitchen table, and then he remembered his sister telling him she was going shopping with a friend. She didn’t say that her friend was Daisy Burton. And she definitely didn’t tell him that Daisy had turned into a woman with breasts the perfect size for his hands.
She stepped forward and for a second he panicked. He didn’t know if he could handle Daisy up close and personal. Lusting after Mr. Burton’s pride and joy was just sick. He’d kill Mano if he even knew he was thinking about stripping her bare and licking her from her toes on up. Or that he would like to sink his cock into her, feel her muscles clamp tight. His balls ached and his dick grew hard. Wearing only boxers, Mano knew she could see his erection unless she was blind.
She stopped within inches of him, so close her breasts grazed his bare chest. He sucked in a breath and drew in her scent. Something musky and sensual. It wasn’t a perfume, but maybe lotion she had spread on her flesh before leaving the house. His cock twitched at the thought of her wearing her lotion and nothing else. Well, except for him.
Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his chest. A wave of heat spread through his blood. Her hip grazed the head of his penis. He could feel her breath on his ear and closed his eyes trying to think of something else. Something that didn’t involve her. Like ice water…or who won the 1963 World Series, or something along those lines.
But, with her near, it was impossible to think about anything but the warm woman heating his blood. His senses spun, his mouth went dry, and he had to fight the urge to grab her and drag her to his room.
“I just wanted you to know,” her voice was whisper soft and husky, “we bought some malassadas and they’re on the table.”
She stepped past him and her laughter drifted back to him.
He opened his eyes and turned to watch her go. Damn her. She knew he was hot for her and she used it to tease him. And now she was laughing at him. As he watched her walk up the stairs, her hips swung from side to side. For a second or two, he lost track of his thoughts and stood mesmerized.
“You know, walking around in that condition might be unhealthy.” More laughter followed the comment.
You’re Beautiful in Rope
I moved as he asked and knelt in the middle of the throw. He came behind me and got to his knees also, his thighs outside mine. He must not have been kneeling down though, because he was still taller. His heat radiated onto my back, though he wasn’t quite close enough to touch me.
He touched a finger to the front of my temple. “Closed, please.”
I shut my eyes and took a long, deep breath. As I finished the breath, he leaned forward, against my back, and wrapped his arms around my torso, just below my breasts. Then he took a long, deep breath. His chest pushed into my back as he expanded his lungs. His chest hair raked along the skin of my back. As he released, I realized I was releasing a breath as well. He breathed in again. I breathed in. Out. Out. In. In. He held me tight as we breathed together. I found my anxiety slipping away as I breathed there, in the dark with him.
He took my left arm and raised it over and just behind my head, then put pressure on my forearm, urging toward my right shoulder. My muscle tightened with the movement. He held it for several seconds, then gently lowered my arm. He did the same with my right arm, angling it over my head and to the left. I felt the stretch in my triceps. Was that what he was doing? Stretching me? That seemed odd.
He slid his arm through my elbow toward my back and pulled my arm against his chest. My shoulder muscles stretched. And then he did the same on the other side. The whole while he continued to breath, pausing to press his chest against my back, which made me breath in time with him. He wrapped his arms around me again and hugged me tight to him. We rocked forward and back for a long moment. Everything—his movement, his scent, just his presence—soothed me, and I felt more relaxed than I had in a very long time.
He remained against me, but let his hands roam over my skin. His palms skimmed my arms and my belly—I tried hard not to be self-conscious. He rested his chin on my shoulder as he moved his hands down across the outsides of my thighs. His breath tickled along my neck and collarbone. Then he wrapped around me again, and we rocked for a few moments more.
One of his arms left me briefly and then returned. Rope, a little bit scratchy and smelling of grass, rubbed against my shoulder, across my chest and up my neck. He hadn’t uncoiled it. It felt like a big lump of rope. His arms moved again, and I heard the rustle of rope on rope. Then a strand—double strand?—fell across my thighs. He dragged it slowly and it tickled my skin as it moved. He drew the piece up over my breasts and over my shoulder, the whole thing trailing lightly over my skin.
My entire body woke up. My skin received every touch from the rope or from him with a jolt of electricity. As he ran the strand behind my neck and down my other shoulder, goose bumps broke out and I shivered. My breathing had quickened, and the low moan from my throat surprised me.
His hand trailed down my left arm and grasped my wrist. He brought it close to my body, and I felt rope being wrapped around it. I peeked from beneath my lashes and saw him anchoring the rope around my wrist. I closed my eyes again. I didn’t really need to see. I’d realized that this wasn’t about seeing.
Using the long end of the rope, he brought my wrist up to my right shoulder, positioning my arm across my chest. He pulled the rope down my back, across and around the left side of my torso. He made it tight, and the rope bit into my skin. It hurt, but didn’t, at the same time. He angled me back against him, and I leaned, letting my head roll back on his shoulder. His scent—cloves and sweetness—hit me again. I breathed deep.
He wrapped the rope around my arm and my belly from left to right. He pushed me forward with a hand in the middle of my back until I was leaning down, head almost to the floor. I felt him pull the free strand through the piece hugging my back, and then he pulled me up by the rope. It bit into my skin in the front, with painful little lines. I swayed into him again.
The rope came against the front of my neck, but gently, his thumb guiding it, brushing my skin back and forth. A little twinge of panic tried to overcome me, but I pushed it down. He was giving me sensation. He wasn’t even tightening the rope. I relaxed again.
After that, things just became fuzzy. He unwound the rope from me, leaving the anchor on my wrist. Then my arm was drawn behind my back, and he wrapped the rope around my torso, binding my upper arm to my side and my wrist and hand to my back. He never tied the rope off. His palms roamed over my skin, warm and earnest. He left trails of heat wherever he touched.
He shoved my body forward again and then covered me with his. The weight of him held me down. I didn’t feel fear, but rather comfort. His weight comforted me.
Surrounded. Cocooned. Safe.
My mind turned off, and I floated. His movements against me still registered, but only from a distance. I had no real concept of the order in which he did things. Nothing hurt. Everything felt good and right.
“You are beautiful in rope,” he whispered very close to my ear.
Book Spotlight: Stone Guardian, Witches Amulet Book 1 Element – Fire (Healer/Destroyer) Royal House – Purple Milcah was born to rule along side an evil mother. Milcah’s father was taken against his will and forced to give up his seed to produce a child with unimaginable powers. At a young age she was taken away… Continue reading Book Spotlight: Stone Guardian, Witches Amulet Book 1 by Paulina Woods