ENCHANTED BY HIM by Jacey Holbrand @evernightpub @JaceyHolbrand

Hey folks! Jacey Holbrand here. I’m happy to announce I have another story in my Helldorado Mongrels MC series out now: Enchanted by Him!

 

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~

The timeline of Enchanted by Him overlaps the one set in the second book Seduced by Him. (The stories in the series can be read as standalones, but as with most series, it’s best if they’re read in order). In Enchanted by Him, we’re reintroduced to the character Sloth—the man Tex, from Seduced by Him, is forced to ride up to Las Vegas with.

We follow Sloth and learn why he splits off from Tex, we learn Sloth’s secret, and of course, we go on a journey with Sloth as he discovers his mate and falls in love. We also see what finally happens to Inferno, the leader of the Helldorado Mongrels MC.

Come be enchanted!

 

~ * ~ BLURB ~ * ~

Helldorado Mongrels MC member, Sloth, is a man with secrets. He’d joined the club with a specific goal in mind, and when three visitors arrive, he fears one of them will turn his world upside down. Especially since that newcomer is a witch and his mate.

Shaman, the medic from the Skinwalkers MC, was hired to find the woman after the Mongrels’s gold and has secrets himself. When he meets Sloth, the man he knows is destined for him, Shaman begins to reconsider his evil, witchy ways, and his internal conflict irritates him.

Despite the constant clashing of their differences, passion ignites between the two men. But will their secrets cause betrayal and hurt? Destroying their relationship before it even has a chance to fully develop? Or will love ultimately triumph?

~ * ~ BUY BOOKS BY JACEY HOLBRAND ~ * ~

Evernight Publishing – https://www.evernightpublishing.com/jacey-holbrand/
Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Jacey-Holbrand/e/B00OE91T62
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~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

As he sputtered and his eyes watered, he spun away from the invisible partition and ran into the tall medic. The cowboy hat was gone, showing that the man sported long, jet black hair, drawn back into a ponytail. Memories of what his imagination had conjured up earlier flooded his mind and sent his cock twitching again. He had to fight an irresistible urge to drop to his knees before the man, unzip his black jeans, and take his shaft into his mouth.

Shaman chuckled, and once Sloth’s gaze connected with the medic’s gray-eyed gaze, Shaman lifted the corner of his mouth in a mischievous grin.

Sloth sucked in a stream of air as the man’s compelling and magnetic gaze held tight to his. Under the intense stare, Sloth’s body crackled and his joints hissed. The tingly sensations and odd sounds made him realize Shaman was stripping away all his cloaking spells. He tried to combat the psychic assault. His own powers weakened as Shaman continued to stare at him. All he had left was the mind block he’d put in place, and even that felt tenuous.

He attempted to step back and found he couldn’t move. Shaman had “frozen” him into place. Sloth thanked the Great Spirit he hadn’t actually been turned into an ice pop. He hated wintery cold temperatures. On top of it all, without the magic that’d been surrounding him for so long, he felt completely bare and exposed.

Again, Shaman offered a short laugh, this time snapping his fingers as well.

Sloth’s clothes disappeared. Not a stitch of fabric remained on him. To his dismay, he truly was naked. And traitor that it was, his hard cock stood at attention.

Who needs mind reading when my erection gives my thoughts away?

The medic strolled around him, seeming to appraise him like a stud at market. The man swept his fingers and hand over Sloth’s arm, buttocks, and the dip created by his spine at the top of his ass crack, making approving murmurs as he did so. Shaman came to stand in front of him and stroked his hand down Sloth’s chest to his cock.

He didn’t know how it was possible he could be rendered into a state of statue-like material, but still be able to perceive each brush of Shaman’s fingers and palm, the nuances of the man’s gentle touches and lingering caresses. Sloth would have sighed and swooned had he been able to.

“You know, perhaps I won’t kill you and consume your powers.” The medic looked up from Sloth’s cock and stared at his face. He raised a brow. “I see the shock in your eyes. Your gaze gives away everything you’re thinking.” His tone dripped of disapproval. “I’m a true skinwalker. Do you think being a mate matters to one of my kind? We crave power. Always need more. Doesn’t matter who, what, where, when, or how we get it as long as we amass as much as possible.”

Dread filled Sloth. His mate had considered killing him? Murdering him for skills he could barely use anymore himself? He wished he could close his eyes, block out the sight of Shaman, and be able to focus on clearing his head.

So much for the fairy tale euphoria of meeting one’s true love, feeling that instant connection, knowing there’s no one else who would love him unconditionally, and having the insatiable need to be with that someone.

Instead, he had confusion, despair, and panic about being tied to someone who might kill him in his sleep. Yet, he still couldn’t help being super attracted to the witch and wanting to fuck him—hard and fast or slow and easy. Didn’t matter to him how. As long as they got inside each other. And the fact that he craved to be physical with the skinwalker scared him even more.

“But then,” Shaman continued, “the pull I feel toward you is inexplicable. The thought of you no longer walking the earth pains me in a way I’ve never felt before and worsens with the idea of my hand taking you from your mortal coil. No. I won’t kill you. I won’t consume your power. But I will demand having all of you—body, heart, and soul. The two of us will be greater together as a bonded couple rather than just me having all the fun causing havoc everywhere.” Shaman clucked Sloth under the chin.

“I smell your attraction to me,” the medic stated, sneaking a glance at Sloth’s penis. “I see it, too. Yet, I also smell your fear. We can’t have that. Amorcito, you need to trust me … love me. I’m more than happy to give you some time to wrap your head around all of this. Not a lot of time, mind you, but whatever decision you come to, know this, you will be mine.”

~ * ~ BIO ~ * ~

Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world.

Jacey loves to hear from readers! Click the link to eMail her: JaceyHolbrand@gmail.com

~ * ~ STALK ~ * ~

Blog/Website ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Facebook Page

 

SPICE & VANILLA by Katherine Wyvern @evernightpub @KatherineWyvern

Hello, and thank you so much for having me here today to talk about my new release, Spice & Vanilla. This is the darker, naughtier sister of my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language, but it can be read as a complete stand alone.

The BDSM element in Spice and Vanilla came about in part because I had just finished reading Katerina Ross’ beautiful novel Tenderly Wicked, so I was in the mood for something a bit spicier than my previous release, and partly because I had this idea for Raphael, the main character, that he would be “in two minds about anything”. He’s gender-fluid, bisexual, and as it turns out, a switch (he is in fact the sort of character that can piss off absolutely every reader on earth, lol).
I always like sex scenes to carry some of the character building in my stories. I think sex is one of the most visceral things we do in life, and the way we have sex with different people and different sex with the same people at different times can say a lot about us, about our feelings for our partners and where we are in a relationship. You can put so much more than smut in a sex scene (although a good amount of smut is most welcome), and when you stray into BDSM that potential for character exploration rises tenfold, because there are so many more layers to it. Why do we feel the need, in a caring, loving relationship, for giving or receiving pain? Why do power and humiliation become a turn on, even a necessity, at certain times? And can these things add more to our relationships than just a passing kinky thrill? Can they possibly become a way to express feelings we don’t have words for? I do not pretend to have full answers to these questions, but I did enjoy searching for them in the company of such complex characters as Raphael and Hugh.

Blurb:

Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.
Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.
Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.

Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys

You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here:
http://meetingivory.wixsite.com/katherinewyvern/spice-and-vanilla-excerpt

Purchase links!
Find Spice & Vanilla at Evernight: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/spice-vanilla-by-katherine-wyvern/
Or on Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/B07CWFZYFS/

 

Excerpt:

Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first.
Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.
It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.
Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.
This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.
Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.
Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.
Tick—tock—tick—tock.
He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.
Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.
“You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.
“Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome.
And that is exactly what you need, my love . Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go.
Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.
It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.
Hugh watched him coming, avidly.
He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.
“Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.
“Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.
This was a faster, business-like tempo.
“There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.
“What? Wh—but…”
Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

 

See what Katherine is up to on:

Katherine’s Blog: https://katherinewyvern.blogspot.fr/
Katherine’s Website: http://meetingivory.wixsite.com/katherinewyvern
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/katherinewyvern
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KatherineWyvern
Or follow her on Instagram @katherinewyvern

 

OFF-LIMITS by Gale Stanley @GaleStanley @sirenbookstrand

OFF-LIMITS Sanctuary 1

 

Heat Rating: SCORCHING

Word Count: 21,584

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Contemporary Paranormal Romance, shape-shifter, M/M, HEA]

 

Blurb:

When Quinn Hart’s best friend died, he became guardian to the man’s ten-year- old son, Noah Stone. So far, Quinn has been able to conceal the growing attraction he feels for Noah, but now Noah is twenty-two and returning home from college. Honor still holds Quinn back from revealing his true feelings. Their community of bear shifters consider reproduction a priority, and Quinn fears they would never accept a homosexual relationship.

Noah has always hidden his romantic feelings for his guardian, but now he’s a man, and his desire is stronger than ever. Unable to handle his feelings, Noah leaves Oregon for a position in a research facility. But when Noah arrives in New York, he discovers his employer is harvesting bear bile and he’s the new source.

Quinn is determined to find Noah. But can he admit what he really wants before it’s too late?

 

Excerpt:

Home. Noah had forgotten how much he missed the endless expanse of lush green landscape and the sparkling river. And the trees. Especially the trees. When the leaves whispered in the wind, it made Noah’s heart ache. Whoever had named their small town knew that trees were sanctuaries.

But for all that, home wasn’t a place, it was a person—Quinn. Noah could live anywhere with Quinn. But a life with Quinn was as likely as a sharknado ripping through Sanctuary.

Noah moved away from the window and gazed at his reflection. The mirror was wall mounted and speckled in places. The frame matched the wood dresser beneath it. A handknitted brown and tan spread covered the crude pine bed. The room had been decorated on a meager budget, but it was warm and comforting because Quinn had handcrafted all the furniture himself.

Noah’s bedroom hadn’t changed since he was a kid. Yesterday, when he’d first stepped through the door, he’d felt the walls close in on him. As a kid, this room seemed huge, but now that he was a man, he could see how small it really was. It felt surreal like turning back the clock, but not in a bad way. If only he could—

“Where’s the man of the hour?”

The sound of loud voices traveled up the stairs. More guests had arrived for the party. The community was small, but when everyone attended an event, it could be overwhelming. Noah checked his image in the mirror again. He’d already changed shirts several times, and he still wasn’t sure that he liked the blue chambray shirt he’d put on with his khakis. Why am I making such a big deal out of this? He felt like Marcus primping for one of those stupid frat parties. What difference did it make what color shirt he wore? Stop stalling, he told himself. You can’t stay in your room forever.

Noah stood at the top of the stairs. Below, friends and neighbors were chatting excitedly. Noah had nothing to say to them. He would disappoint them. Anxiety made his stomach churn.

 

 Happy Reading!

Available at:

Bookstrand | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

 

Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

 

 

 

REMUS by Gale Stanley @GaleStanley

Remus (Watchdogs 2) by Gale Stanley

Cover art: Bryan Keller

BIN: 08356-02699

Genres: Gay, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Paranormal, Action Adventure & Suspense, New Releases, Romance

Length: Novella

Page Count: 42

 

Ray has always been a little wild in bed but can Jared handle his animal tendencies?

 

BLURB:

Ex-hitman, Ray Miller got immunity in exchange for testifying against Sarge, his former handler. Grateful for the second chance, Ray and his lover, Jared open their own P.I. agency and call it Watchdogs. But their happily ever after doesn’t last long.

Jared is having nightmares that seem all too real, and someone is stalking him. Ray suspects Sarge wants revenge, but he soon discovers a more dangerous foe is after them. How can he protect himself and Jared, when their enemy is a wolf?

 

Get a new release discount at Changeling Press

https://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2699

 

TEASER:

Jared huddled under the covers until the smell of coffee drew him out of bed. First stop, the bathroom. He glanced in the mirror, and did a double take. What the fuck! Gripping the small sink, he leaned in for a closer look. Teeth marks.

Suddenly, a naked Ray appeared behind him, and strong muscular arms circled Jared. “Do you want coffee or a blowjob?” Ray stroked Jared’s flaccid penis back to life.

Jared melted back against him. “I want to get fucked.” Then he remembered. “You bit me.”

Ray inspected his handiwork. “So? You know you like it rough. You were so fucking hot, you didn’t even feel it.”

“You broke the skin.”

“Don’t be a wuss. I had my rabies shot.”

“Very funny.”

Ray kissed the mark. “It’s a love bite. Means you’re mine. Forever.”

Jared sighed. “I don’t need a mark to remind me. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Come back to bed and I’ll prove it.”

 

Happy Reading!

 

 

Available at

Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

 

Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

 

 

 

 

 

ONE LAST HIT by Maia Dylan @evernightpub @Maiadylanauthor

One Last Hit

By Maia Dylan

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

 

 

Book Blurb:

Aaron George thought he’d lost the love of his life seven years ago. Right up until he pulled back the curtain of a hospital examination room and found Marshall Armstrong tending to a bullet wound on the other side. Then the night got really strange. They found themselves getting shot at and running for their lives.

Marshall Armstrong had finally come for Aaron. He’d been working toward it from the moment he’d had to fake his own death. Now, just when he had enough money and resources to take Aaron back, Aaron’s father, Franklin George knew his son was alive and that Marshall had a few secrets of his own.

Can Marshall and Aaron get back together as they work to make this one last hit before they disappear forever, or will their shot go wide and leave them with nothing?

 

**MM

Purchase Links:

AMAZON UK: http://amzn.eu/9tgi7Ty
AMAZON AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B079MFLMPH
AMAZON US: http://a.co/1Yylx8T
AMAZON CA: http://a.co/e7nNnSM
EVERNIGHT: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/one-last-hit-by-maia-dylan/

 

 

 

STORY EXCERPT:

Aaron growled. “Maybe I’ve gotten better at lying now. I’m way more secretive than I was when you knew me. Everyone thought I was dead. I left the day of the explosion with nothing but our emergency pack. No one knew I was here living my life until recently.”

“I’ve always known where you were,” Marshall answered honestly. “You took the identity I’d had created for you, so I knew where to find you from the moment you left.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you come to me sooner?” Aaron asked in a small voice.

Marshall reached out, wanting to touch him, to ease his pain, but stopped short when Aaron flinched away from him. Not that he could blame him for the reaction at all.

“Franklin is powerful and determined to make the damn Senate. If he had known you were alive earlier, he would have killed you just to tidy up that loose end. He couldn’t have his own son coming out and telling the world what an asshole he is. Aaron, even when I knew I shouldn’t, I kept up with what you were doing. I’ve fucking stalked you from afar for years. What existed between us was real.”

Aaron’s gaze swung to him. “Really? Because I loved you with everything I had and losing you destroyed who I was. Flames were lifting into the air, and gas bottles were exploding and all I could think about was walking straight into that burning building so that I could go with you.”

Marshall’s heart broke at that. “Baby. I am so sorry I had to put you through that. But I had to get you away from Franklin and I knew you wouldn’t go without me. Franklin wasn’t going to let me go, Aaron. I was an asset he had no desire to lose. If we had run together, he would have come after us with everything he had. I knew that the only reason you would go by yourself is if you thought I was dead.”

Aaron frowned. “Why couldn’t we have just left together? If he was convinced that I died in that fire, why wouldn’t he accept it was both of us? Damn it, Marshall I managed to leave that day and no one came looking for me for seven years! I started a new life and fought for a chance to live it. Why couldn’t we have done that together?”

Marshall took a deep breath. He’d known this conversation had to happen, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. “He was going to take you away that night, Marshall. He was going to take you from me and use you to control me. Every option I looked at to save you resulted in you being hurt or killed. I was too young, I had very little experience with everything, and I panicked. Making it look like the explosion killed you was the only option I came up with that got you away from him.”

“Why the hell did you stay?” He could hear anger in Aaron’s voice. “You could have gotten away from him at any time.”

Self-loathing threatened to drown him. “I had to make sure you remained safe. And without you, I just stopped caring about anything else. Your father claimed your life insurance, had a funeral, and publically mourned your death. And I did it all with a happy heart because I knew that you were alive and that you were free.”

“But what about you, Marshall,” Aaron asked quietly, “weren’t you worth saving, too?”

Marshall turned to look out at the road ahead. “I may have been then, but everything I have done since, what your father has turned me into, all of it makes me beyond salvation now.

Aaron made a dismissive sound. “That’s bullshit. No one is so far gone that they can’t be saved, either from my father or themselves. You’ve already said that a lot of what you have had to do over the years was at the bequest of Franklin George. It sounds to me that the fault lies with him, not you.”

“But it was me pulling the trigger all those years, Aaron, and not always at Franklin’s request,” Marshall answered, turning to give him a sad look. “It’s me that took money from your father and others to kill the people they most needed eliminated from their lives. And it’s me who has to somehow reconcile everything that I have done since I left you seven years ago so that I can sleep at night,” Marshall took a moment trying to find the words that would explain it. “You could say this is about vengeance with a strong dose of penance for me and that would be a lot closer to the truth, but it would certainly not grant me absolution.”

© MAIA DYLAN, EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING, 2018

 

ALL ABOUT MAIA DYLAN

Mother, wife, author, and all around crazy…

I write the kind of books that I love to read. Love stories between strong men and their independent soulmates. Usually, their path to Happily Ever After is a bumpy one, but there is always a Happy Ever After. 

In the world’s I create there is someone (or two, or three) for everyone!  Love comes in many forms and I believe it is all beautiful and should be celebrated!

I live, love and write in New Zealand, married to my husband of eleven years with two beautiful children who I truly believe were sent as a blessing, but sometimes to try my patience, and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

 

 

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