Posted in awakenings, Book News, Excerpts

Playing Along (Awakenings 5)

Stephen Galen is a certified Nice Guy when it comes to dealing with women, and he’d found out the hard way that Nice Guys finish last. Burned by love one time too many, he wasn’t looking for anything except a casual liaison.

Paget Draven never let an experience pass her by, so when she has the chance to have a casual affair with the man she’s lusted after for two years, she seizes the day.

Being with a Dominatrix was unlike anything Stephen had ever experienced. The more he played along with her scintillating and sexy scenarios, the thinner the boundary became between real life and their playacting. Pushing her away was the only solution to keeping his heart safe.

But life doesn’t always follow even the most careful plan. When devastating news rocks Paget’s world, Stephen must decide whether to stand by her or lose her forever.

Flaming hot, sweet, funny, and heart-rending, Playing Along is a messy, emotional tale of life, love, and fighting for happiness when everything is on the line.

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“Put your hands behind the chair.” 

I sat still while she went behind the chair and used my tie to bind my wrists together. “Is this necessary? I hadn’t planned to touch you.” 

“It’s necessary, Stephen. I want our first kiss to knock your socks off.” 

It was a kiss, something brief and fleeting, not a reason for bondage. I opened my mouth to tell her that, but she pressed a finger to my lips. 

“Quiet darling. If you persist in speaking, I’ll have to gag you.” With that, she unbuttoned the top two buttons on my shirt. 

“Paget, this is a little much. I’d rather we both kept our clothes on.” 

“No clothes will be removed, baby. I promise.” 

She kept calling me ‘baby.’ I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. She also unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way. I knew I should tell her to stop and to untie me, but I couldn’t bring myself to halt her game. She was assertive, and she’d skillfully controlled our interaction. 

“Nice,” she said. “You have a smoking hot body, Stephen.” She pressed her hands to my abdomen and dragged them up my chest. 

“This isn’t a kiss.” I’d meant to point out that she was going overboard, but there was too much wonder in my tone to make it stick. 

She reached under her dress, wiggled, and her panties fell down her legs. 

Before I could remind her that she’d promised no clothing would come off, she shoved them into my mouth. Then she tapped my lower lip. “Naughty boys are gagged with used panties. Suck on that like a good boy until I take them out.” 

They were silk and tiny, and I could spit them out if I wanted, but I kept them where she’d put them. I could taste the barest hint of her essence, enough to know she was aroused by this scene. 

My chair was padded, and it fit me well. Still Paget managed to straddle my lap. Her knees sank into the padding on either side of my thighs. She hiked up her dress to sit down, which showed me nothing, but I swore I could feel the heat of her pussy through my pants. 

Before I could think to protest, her hands were on me again. They moved over my chest in sensual swirls. Her lips skated up and down my neck, across my cheeks, and over my eyelids. They were soft and moist, and I’d never been so fucking turned on in my life. 

She nipped at my earlobe. “You’re being very good, Stephen. Soon, I’m going to take out the gag, and you’re going to ask very nicely for a kiss, and you’re going to call me Mistress.” 

Her breath tickled my ear, sending shivers through my body. She spent more time teasing her lips over my skin—never quite kissing, but arousing me all the same. Then her mouth brushed mine. She caught the edge of her panties in her teeth, and she pulled them from my mouth. 

You’d think my mouth would be dry, but that was only true for a second. Saliva rushed to fill the space in anticipation of something unlike anything I’d experienced. 

She let them fall between us. They landed on my swollen cock. The weight was no more than that of a cloth napkin, and yet I felt it press like the caress of her hand. 

“I think you like me, Stephen.” 

Posted in Excerpts

Zeke’s Reluctant Omega

Draco International 3

As Head of Security for Draco International, Ezekiel Lowry is the unofficial fixer for the company. When a fellow dragon shifter unintentionally almost kills someone, Zeke is in charge of damage control. The moment he sets eyes on the victim, he knows he’s looking at the man who will become his omega.

Marcel Yardan moved to Verdance to pursue a career as a dancer. When an accident ruins his big stage debut, Marcel finds himself bitter and blaming the man sent to make sure he doesn’t sue Draco International—even though his canine whimpers and whines for the handsome alpha shifter. Nothing about Zeke fits with Marcel’s life plan.

Pushing away the alpha who makes his heart pound is a risky move, but when Marcel spies Zeke with another omega, his world comes crashing down—again.

Welcome to Draco International, home of high-powered dragon shifters who live by their own rules. This 41,000-word MPreg novel includes passionate and explicit sexual content, as well as some violence. Suitable for adult audiences.

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. After a brief knock on the open door, he entered the room. Seeing the man propped up against the raised back of the bed sent a shockwave through Zeke’s body.

It wasn’t the large bandages that covered the side of his head and his exposed shoulder or the splint on his arm that caused any kind of reaction. Zeke had been through enough battles to have seen every kind of wound imaginable, as well as a few that were difficult to conceive. No, this was a shock of awareness on the part of his dragon, and he’d never before felt anything like it.

Caught by surprise at this new, surreal feeling, Zeke found himself momentarily dumbstruck. His dragon came to the fore, exercising dominion by sharpening his senses. He noted the damages, sensing the concussion, broken bones, multiple contusions, and the tender ankle. Simultaneously he took in the long, sinewy muscles that the shapeless hospital gown and the blanket draped over his legs couldn’t quite camouflage.

He had a powerful urge to taste Marcel Yardan. He wanted to know the exact flavor of his kiss, his dark chocolate skin, and his seed. His dragon purred insistently, demanding a sample, and Zeke had every intention of indulging it.

“You’re not the doctor.”

The voice jerked Zeke from the primal reverie that had overtaken him. He glanced to his left to find a man seated in a chair next to the bed. With his highlighted blond hair and cornflower blue eyes to bring out his handsomeness, and a ripped body to match, this man qualified as a potential impediment to Zeke’s claiming of his mate.

That man had noted his non-medical status.

Zeke drew himself up, puffing out his chest to appear even larger. “You’re not the patient.”

The guy’s gaze wandered Zeke’s body. “You’re not a relative, either.”

Gritting his teeth, Zeke threw the observation back. “Nor are you.”

“Friend,” the blond said. He looked to Marcel. “You know this guy?”

Marcel seemed dazed. He stared at Zeke. After a long time, a response croaked from his throat. “No.”

Zeke reached toward the tray next to the bed. “You need water.” He held the cup to Marcel’s lips while the potential omega sipped.

After a bit, Marcel leaned back. “Thank you. I didn’t catch your name or why you’re here.”

“Ezekiel Lowry, but my friends call me Zeke.”

Marcel offered his hand. “I’m Marcel, and this is my friend, Holden.”

The first contact of skin sent a jolt of electricity and need through Zeke, and it left Marcel with a more confused wrinkle to his lovely chin. “I’m the Head of Security for Draco International.”

“Oh,” Holden gasped. “You’re from the theater?”

A bit of Marcel’s confusion leaped to Zeke. “Theater?”

Holden sat up straighter and clasped his hands in front of his chest. “The Verdance Theater. Draco International is a major sponsor of the arts. They have the biggest banners in the lobby.”

Zeke shrugged. Amar would know more about where DI spent their money. “I’m in security, not philanthropy.”

“Mr. Lowry, why are you here?” Marcel asked. It bothered Zeke that Marcel didn’t treat him with familiarity. He didn’t want any barriers of propriety standing between them.

Posted in Excerpts

Koren’s Omega Neighbor

Draco International 2

Chayton Sadler wasn’t looking for love in Verdance. The minute after he fulfilled the terms of his uncle’s will, he planned to be back home with his pack of black Labs.

Koren Tafari wasn’t looking for love, but from the moment he set eyes on the sexy canine shifter and his dragon purred, he knew his number was up. Rather than fight it, he vowed to make Chay fall in love with him.

Some things are easier said than done, especially when his former mentor returns and is now an adversary threatening everything Koren holds dear.

Welcome to Draco International, home of high-powered dragon shifters who live by their own rules. This 44,000-word MPreg novel includes passionate and explicit sexual content, as well as some violence. Suitable for adult audiences.

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Chay reached for the stack, and his hand brushed the handsome neighbor’s mighty paw. A charge ran through him, and the dog part of him let loose with a subsonic whine.

The man stilled. That knowing gaze probed the depth of Chay’s eyes for something. Time seemed to stand still with that handsome face frozen in a frown. Chay had the opportunity to note the light brown stubble staining the man’s tanned skin and the tiny laugh lines around those entirely kissable lips. He wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through that mop of hair and what it would feel like for that stubble to scratch across his stomach.

This guy had to be almost twice his age. He was closer to Chay’s fathers’ ages than Chay’s, but right now, Chay couldn’t seem to care. The years melted away, and his canine let loose another subsonic whine.

Releasing his hold on the mail, the guy took a step closer, his nose twitching as he—was he sniffing Chay? This dude was a canine shifter? Given his size, he had to be a Great Dane or an extra-large Pyrenees.

Chay squared his shoulders and straightened his posture. He kept his gaze glued to his upstairs neighbor. When the guy took another step closer, Chay backed up. “I didn’t catch your name.”

A rumbling came from deep in the man’s throat. Was he purring? Maybe he was a cat shifter, maybe a panther or lion. Fuck—that meant he was dangerous. But he didn’t seem like he was unstable. “Koren Tafari.”

Tafari rhymed with safari, so maybe Koren was a lion shifter. Lions were known for being unpredictable, territorial, and they had violent tempers. Or he was way off. Maybe this guy was just strange.

Even if he was a shifter, Koren’s intensity meant he was focused and possibly an apex predator. As a member of an easygoing breed, Chay could do without that kind of stress in his life. No matter how much his canine wanted to inhale Koren’s delicious scent or rub his head against the man’s side, he wasn’t going to do it.

Chay stuck out a hand. “Hi, Koren. I’m Chay. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll get down to the post office first thing and get the address corrected. I’m sorry about the inconvenience.”

Those blue eyes moved over his body, heat lasering away Chay’s clothes and leaving no doubt as to the content of the older man’s thoughts. “It’s not an inconvenience. You’re new to the city?”

The deep timbre of his voice rumbled through Chay’s body, leaving a yearning shiver in its wake.

“Yeah. I grew up about twelve hours away.” He meant to glance around the elegant lobby, but he found it impossible to break the hold Koren had over him. “I’m still figuring out where things are.”

“You’re a jogger?” Somehow, Koren managed to move closer, and Chay was just now noticing. He fingered the strap of Chay’s backpack. “How far are you planning to go?”

By Chay’s calculations, he’d covered at least a dozen miles. “I went already. I got a couple hours in.”

Koren’s brows lifted. “A serious runner sweats.”

Dogs panted, and Chay had barely broken a sweat in the mile between the park and the apartment. Meeting Koren’s challenge, he chuckled. “Do they?”

Again, Koren’s gaze moved over him. “What kind of shifter are you?”

Oh—so they were going to get it all out in the open now?

Chay didn’t blink. “Lab.”

Koren grinned, a careless, flirty expression with a hint of lust. “I’ve always had an affinity for larger breeds.”

“What are you?” He hoped Koren wasn’t a tiger or anything that might eat a dog.


Lots of creatures shifted, but to Chayton’s recollection, they were actual animals that existed as non-shifters. Dragons were fiction. Backing up, Chay held up a hand. “Like a Komodo dragon?”


“There’s no such thing as—”

Posted in Excerpts

Amaricio’s Omega

Draco International 1

Amaricio Granger was looking for an assistant, one who would be thoughtful and loyal to the hard-working, alpha dragon shifter. He wanted someone to pick up his dry cleaning and bring coffee. He hadn’t been looking for an omega mate.

Edgar Vidal never thought he’d get the job. What did a personal assistant do, anyway? When he showed up for the job interview as the only candidate not wearing a power suit, he knew he didn’t have a chance. But that was before a chance encounter with the ruggedly handsome CFO of Draco International.

Finding love was easy, but when the most powerful dragon in the Sharp-Winged Tribe disapproves of the union, staying together may prove impossible. How much is Amaricio willing to sacrifice to be with the omega who won his heart? Welcome to Draco International, home of high-powered dragon shifters who live by their own rules. This 45,000-word MPreg novel includes passionate and explicit sexual content, as well as some violence. Suitable for adult audiences.

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A man came up next to him, talking on the phone in an unfamiliar language. His voice came out in a low rumble that Edgar felt more than heard, and he had a cologne that piqued Edgar’s curiosity. Much like the others in the lobby, he wore a suit and tie. He had a rugged face with sharp features and strong lines. His dark hair and eyes added a sort-of mystique that made him handsome instead of unfortunate-looking. He had a distinguished air about him, an authority that Edgar would want in a personal assistant. This guy got things done.

He ended the call and dried his hands.

As he turned away, Edgar noticed a crumb on the man’s cheek.

“Hey, you have—”

The guy swiveled back, one brow raised.

Edgar lifted a hand to his own cheek to indicate the location of the crumb. “Blueberry crumble?”

He wiped at his cheek, missing the crumb. Instead of using the mirror to check, his gaze concentrated on Edgar. “Better?”

Edgar brushed it away, noting the smoothness of the man’s skin. “The bakery down the street has the best blueberry crumble muffins. When I’m being very bad, I get one.”

“Bad?” The accompanying frown was downright menacing.

Keeping a friendly smile because he realized the man had misunderstood his intention, he explained. “They have like a thousand calories. I swear, I eat one, and a love handle pops out to wave at me.”

The man’s sinful gaze wandered up and down Edgar’s body, and then he seemed to dismiss it entirely. Okay, maybe the sinful part had been only in Edgar’s mind. He sucked on the left side of his lower lip, a nervous habit that Brielle said was endearing but probably wasn’t all that great. His gaze fell to the man’s tie.

It was a power tie, deep red with flecks of gold thread. “Oh, that blueberry sure gets away from you.”

The guy’s gaze dropped to the tie, and his growl matched his expression.

“I have a stain stick.” Edgar opened his leather messenger bag that he’d picked up at a charity resale shop for five dollars. A short rummage brought him to his prize. He held it up. “Here.”

The frown was gone, but the quizzical look was back.

“It works. I swear. I just used it on my shirt this morning.” He untucked a corner where he’d spilled coffee and lifted it to so that the rugged man could see. “Coffee stain, gone. It’s like magic.”

Rugged man took it and dabbed at the stain until it disappeared. Then he handed the stain stick back. “Thanks.”

“If this restroom had air dryers, you could dry your tie.” He secured the lid on the stain stick and tucked it back into his bag. “Hopefully it’ll dry before your interview.”


Edgar held out his hand. “I’m Edgar. Good luck today.”

That confused look was back. “You’re here to interview for the personal assistant job?” The guy shook his hand, but he made it seem like it was his idea.

The question made him self-conscious. He didn’t know anything about the man or the company, and he hadn’t thought it was the kind of job that required a suit. “Yeah. Snowball’s chance for me, but maybe I’ll treat myself to a blueberry crumble after.”

The confusion morphed back into a frown. Rugged man came by that face honestly. “Why would you think you don’t have a chance?” A gleam in his dark eyes demanded answers, and Edgar found himself giving them.

“No experience, and I don’t own a suit. I was thinking this would be the kind of job where I picked up the dry cleaning, walked the dog, and went on coffee runs. Maybe do some emergency grocery shopping. I don’t know—stuff a busy guy doesn’t have time to do.” He motioned in the direction of the lobby and leaned forward. “Those people all have business degrees. I don’t know the first thing about business.”

“But you’re still going through with the interview?”

Edgar shrugged. “It’ll be a learning experience.”

The light in the man’s eyes changed to thoughtful. His gaze wandered up and down Edgar again, this time with an appraising light. “You helped me out even though you think we’re competing for the same job.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be kind, and you’re the one who has to live with yourself when you aren’t.” He tilted his head in a farewell to the strangely handsome stranger, and he returned to the lobby to wait for his interview.


Posted in Excerpts

Perfect Blend: Kofi’s Omega

Bear’s Cove 3

Building a new life after a failed marriage isn’t easy.

Hoyt Graziano is determined to open a coffee shop in Bear’s Cove. It’s the perfect small town for his shop, Perfect Blend. Only it’s also the town where his ex-husband lives.

Lusting after his brother’s husband drove Kofi Freeman away years ago.

Now that they’re divorced, he allows himself an afternoon of bliss with the man who stars in every one of his fantasies.

But his loyalty to his family makes him reject the vulnerable omega afterward. It doesn’t take Kofi long to realize that he made a terrible mistake, but Hoyt isn’t impressed with his apology. He’s not willing to forgive and forget.

How can he prove his love to a prideful and stubborn omega whose heart he didn’t mean to break?

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A man lounged against his door, his wide shoulders spanning most of the distance. His body narrowed where he’d tucked his shirt into jeans, showcasing the powerful muscles of his hips and thighs.

Hoyt’s gaze roved down and back up, taking in the full lips and how the wind lifted strands of black hair, messing them up in a way that only increased the sexiness. Then he took off his sunglasses, and Hoyt found himself nailed to the spot by those brilliant blue eyes. The sky reflected in them, casting them an even darker hue.

He sucked in a breath and forced his body not to respond. This was just like every fucking holiday and family-oriented get-together for six of the past seven years. He’d forgotten the physical way his body reacted to Kofi, and it irritated him. “What do you want?” A bit of that annoyance came out in his voice, but he didn’t care. Kofi had it coming.

He moved away from the door, which put him closer to Hoyt. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d talked to Chase?”

Hoyt rolled his eyes and moved past Kofi. He stuck the key in the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. So now his attempt to make a dramatic getaway was ruined. He jiggled the handle and tried again, but it didn’t work.

Kofi’s hand closed around Hoyt’s as he took over. His jiggling worked better, and the lock disengaged. He pushed the door open, stepped back, and handed the key to Hoyt.

When Hoyt tried to grab it back, Kofi held tight to the part of the key ring with a dangling thingy printed with The Black Bear Inn’s logo. A warning flashed in his eyes, the kind that might have him on his knees if the circumstances were different. “Hoyt, don’t be pissy. I had a legitimate concern.”

Hoyt parked his free hand on his hip. “Let go of my fucking keys. I didn’t ask you to come here, and I don’t owe you an explanation. You’re not my alpha.”

“You asked me for a favor.”

At the reminder, heat traveled up Hoyt’s neck. Fucking fair skin got blotchy whenever he got mad. “You said no, and I moved on.”


Posted in Excerpts

Tanzil’s Second Chance

Bear’s Cove 2

A Warden’s job is to protect

Six years ago, Tanzil Jareth failed to protect his family. To atone for that, he has dedicated his life to protecting all bear shifters from the humans who would exploit or kill them. When a hiking bear shifter goes missing, nothing was going to keep Tanzil from rescuing him.

Lost with nowhere to go

Logan Fordline doesn’t know what he wants in life. Nothing he’s tried has suited him. So he decides to spend a few days roaming in his bear form to try to figure out what he’s supposed to do with his life. Of course, he didn’t think that he’d be targeted by humans hoping to show him off as a freak attraction.

Rescuing Logan wasn’t that difficult, but resisting the chemistry between them is impossible. Will Tanzil be able to put the past behind him and move forward with a new love, and will Logan find a path in life that leaves him fulfilled and happy? Welcome to Bear’s Cove, a hidden community of gay bear shifters. Tanzil’s Second Chance is a 33,000-word, gay male pregnancy romance that includes passionate and explicit sexual content, including bondage, light D/s, and violence. Suitable for adult audiences.

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First Kiss Excerpt:

He felt Logan’s hand on his arm, the thick fabric of his work shirt no match for the heat of the younger man’s touch. Feelings zinged through Tanzil — desire and possessiveness — originating at the point of contact.

Being a Warden meant he was more in touch with the primal pieces of his shifter nature than most other bears. Right now, his inner bear roared for Logan Fordline. Heat washed through his body, a flame that could only be assuaged by this omega.

“Omega, I am barely holding on right now. Please refrain from touching me, and it would be best if you left the room.”

He expected Logan to perhaps be hurt or upset. Pouting would be welcome because that was a huge turn-off for Tanzil. He waited for Logan to flounce away, but he only moved closer, wrapping his arms around Tanzil’s midsection and resting his cheek against the back of Tanzil’s shoulder.

“You didn’t leave me to suffer alone, and I won’t leave you.”

Tanzil snorted, chuffing a sharp warning. “Young one, it isn’t my grief that threatens you right now; it’s my alpha nature. My bear wants you, and it’s difficult to fight it with you so near.” His bear hadn’t wanted anyone since Namir, and the force with which it strained against its bonds stole his breath.

Logan’s arms drew away, and he stepped back, but not far enough to quell the rising havoc inside Tanzil.

“Farther,” he growled. “Go into the living room.”

“I can’t make lunch from there,” Logan returned. “How about you go into the living room? Or you could go take a cold shower. Or you could just kiss me.”

It was too much, and Tanzil was out of practice reigning in his alpha nature. Whirling, he lifted Logan, holding the smaller man’s body against his own as his lips sought sustenance. He closed his mouth over Logan’s, demanding submission from this omega. Logan softened against him, his arms twining around Tanzil’s neck as the omega’s lips parted on a sigh.

Tanzil’s alpha nature stood up on its hind legs and let loose with a mighty roar. He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue deep to stake a claim. The taste of him was like nothing he’d experienced before — sweet and spicy, and somehow liquid. It filled his senses and traveled his veins. He felt it in every corner of his body.

His hands roamed Logan’s back, exploring the hard planes before venturing lower to squeeze handfuls of each delightfully rounded cheek. Small, gruff moans issued from Logan, feeding Tanzil’s frenzy. He wanted to rip away the fabric covering Logan’s body and bury his cock deep inside the submissive man, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to temper his violence.

So he broke away, a brutal severing of their connection that sent his bear into a rage. Before he could do something he’d regret, he snagged his shifter pack from the counter, threw it around his torso, and bolted out the back door. He shifted to his bear form mid-step, shredding his clothes.

He ran from his home, his refuge.

He ran from the unexplained feelings he couldn’t control.

He ran from the man he’d left standing in his kitchen who did things to him no man had done since his heart had died that horrific night so many years before. Mostly, he ran from himself.

Posted in Doms of the FBI, Excerpts

Re/Bound (Doms of the FBI 1)

Picking herself up after the devastating loss of her master is more difficult than Darcy anticipated. Just when she needs someone the most, a handsome Dom steps in. Theo is  thoughtful, dominant, and demanding—everything she needs. He pushes her boundaries, tests her limits, and takes her to new heights. With him, she remembers what it is to feel joy and love and a firm hand on her ass.

Agent Malcolm Legato is after a corrupt businessman, and Darcy is his ticket into the upper echelon of Snyder Corp. As he cultivates her as an asset, he falls hard for this feisty submissive, and he knows he’ll break her heart the moment she finds out he’s been lying to her all along.

When it all falls apart, will Darcy be able to find the strength to forgive Malcolm so they can build a life together and the courage to bring justice to the man she loved and lost?

With twists of rope and plot, this action-packed story will make you laugh, cry, and squirm in all the right ways. With Re/Bound, Michele Zurlo delivers a smart, bold, and sexy tale.

Warnings: Bondage, D/s, S/M, salsa dancing

Word Count: 110,648

Praise for Re/Bound:

“It’s not hard to find yourself lost in this book and unable to stop reading…RE /BOUND is a must read.” The Romance Reviews

“A bold, smart, and sexy story that is the perfect combination of romance and dominance. The author does a superb job of explaining the psychological elements behind the relationship, needs, behaviors, and connection that is between Malcolm and Darcy. The blistering sex is filled with smoking hot delights, kinky pleasures, and tender seduction.” The Romance Studio

A Two Lips Reviews Recommended Read!  “Michele Zurlo knocks out a super-charged BDSM novel in Re/Bound”

“The characterizations of Malcolm and Darcy as a new D/s couple were spot on…RE/BOUND is a suspenseful and very steamy story, and I would highly recommend it to fans of BDSM erotic romances.” The Forbidden Bookshelf

A Night Owl Reviews Top Pick! “This was a very absorbing and entertaining read with an action-packed ending that will leave you breathless. The connection that Darcy and Malcolm share is stunningly beautiful. Highly recommended.”

“Re/Bound is a BDSM story with a few twists, including ropes and suspense, that just makes for a great read. The love story of Malcolm and Darcy is sweet and real. The suspense makes for a complex story that intertwines so beautifully with the sex.” Just Erotic Romance Reviews

“Darcy is the kind of submissive that’s a pleasure to read about and so easy to relate to. Theo is one incredibly sexy Dom. His presence fills the page, larger than life, ruthless and in-control, but sensually caring and romantic at the same time. The sexual tension between the two is painfully good to read and leads to some wonderful scenes of S/M, light bondage, and wildly dirty sex. The balance is perfect here, and the story flows easily, with smart and witty dialog.” Under the Covers Book Blog

She paused at a door three-quarters of the way down the hall. Her gaze fell to the floor. After the awkwardness had passed, the rest of the night had gone well. He had kept the conversation on innocuous topics and had learned a lot about her relationship with Victor Snyder. The prick had her thoroughly and completely snowed. She considered him a friend and a benefactor.

He hooked his finger under her chin and encouraged her to meet his gaze. When she complied, he rewarded her with a smile. Without a doubt, she was one responsive submissive. Yataines had trained her well.

He cupped the side of her face and traced his thumb over her eyebrow. Adjusting the position of his hand, he repeated the caress along her lower lip. She trembled a bit, but she clearly awaited his command. His earlier intention had been an impulsive act of  affection. It had taken all his willpower to keep his cock from saluting her submissiveness.

“I had a nice time tonight, Darcy. Thank you for making this trip worthwhile.”

Her eyes widened a bit, and he knew she wanted to ask if he’d decided against seeing her again now that he’d found out about some of her baggage.

He replayed his caress of her lip. Suddenly he needed to taste her lips more than anything in the world. “Can I kiss you?”
​She began to nod, but she caught herself in time. She swallowed and licked her lips. “Yes, I’d like that.” Malcolm had never once taken the trust of a submissive lightly. Part of him wanted to play the gentleman and leave her alone. A larger part of him needed to know the flavor and texture of her kiss. He recognized the blurring of the line between his cover identity and his real self, and he couldn’t keep from crossing it. He feathered his lips over hers, a reverent caress that teased a small sigh from her. That tiny sound proved to be his undoing. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, and she  opened for him. He cradled her head with one hand to hold her close, and he snaked the other around her waist to press her body closer. She moaned and leaned into him as he directed with the pressure of his hand on her back. He tasted her lips and teeth. He sampled the roof of her mouth and tangled his tongue with hers. A piece of his heart he’d never before used came to life. It beat a furious staccato rhythm he felt echoed in her chest. Blood rushed to his cock. He thrust a knee between her legs and ground against her. She mewled, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. Inflamed with her flavor, he moved his lips to sample her neck. She moaned and threw her head back. The sharp crack of it hitting the door brought Malcolm back to his senses. He had shoved her against the door, and he had ravaged her with everything in his arsenal. He released her abruptly, keeping one hand close in case she needed more than the door to hold her up. She gazed up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire and blurred by shock. She took a deep, ragged breath and pushed away from the door. Malcolm ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. You consented to a kiss, not a public mauling.” ​ A little laugh escaped before she could bite her lip to keep it inside. “Now I’m wondering what will happen if I consent to a public mauling.”
The visions she evoked meant he would need an icy shower before going to sleep. Wisely he changed the topic. “I’d like to see you again. Can we have breakfast together? I could swing by around eight, and we could walk down together.”
​Malcolm didn’t know whether he asked her for the mission or because the pounding heart in his chest wanted to shrivel up and die at the thought of not seeing her.
She nodded. “I’d like that.”
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Re/Captured (DFBI 7)–Pre-order Now!

Re/Captured (Doms of the FBI 7)

Keith and Katrina are back! Reader favorites Keith Rossetti and Katrina Legato from Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI 2) return for another emotional, sexy, and dangerous adventure.


When a day helping out at Legal Aid puts Katrina in the crosshairs of a serial killer bent on sending his version of romantic gifts, life starts to spiral out of control. Not only is she trying to plan her wedding, but work and home life are increasingly hectic.

Keith has doubts about Kat and the reasons she keeps postponing the wedding, so he sets out to recapture her heart. Meanwhile, the serial killer’s obsession with Katrina only grows—threatening her entire family.

Sacrifices must be made, but can love help them survive the fallout?

Warnings: BDSM, anal sex, D/s

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PG Excerpt 1:

Understanding Keith’s message—he’d wanted to put her mind at ease with regard to the children so that she could focus on submitting to him—she lowered her gaze. “Can I have ten minutes to put my bag away and freshen up?”

“Yes. I set out what I want you to wear.” His voice washed through her senses, overpowering her with peace and excitement.

“Thank you.” Briefcase in hand, she turned to follow his instructions.

“Kitty Kat.”

The unspoken order halted her. She turned back to him. “Yes?”

“I want a kiss.”

Closing the distance she lifted her face. He caressed her cheek with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist to support her lower back, two points of contact only. His lips brushed hers, teasing at a third point. He massaged, a gentle pressure welcoming her home and to her role as his submissive.

Slave to his mastery, she sighed into it, dropping her briefcase and lifting her arms to twine them around his neck, and she pressed her chest to his. He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue deep to taste and stab. The hand on her cheek slid into her hair, and the one on her back lowered to squeeze her ass. She forgot about everything. The stresses of her day fell away as she melted in the face of his demand.

He broke away to trail sucking kisses down her neck, stopping when the collar of her dress shirt got in his way. “Go,” he said. “Take your ten minutes, and then you’re mine.”

PG Excerpt 2:

“Put your dress on. Tell me how you look.”

Though he couldn’t see it, she parked her hand on her hip. “Keith, this is highly inappropriate, and it’s bad luck.” Her pulse raced. Though she thought of the wedding as a formality, she couldn’t help but get a little excited for the actual event.

His husky chuckle crackled through the phone. “I don’t believe in bad luck, and I can’t masturbate to mental images of you in that dress if I don’t know what it looks like.”

Her fake chagrin melted. She whispered her reply. “You want to masturbate to mental images of me in a wedding dress? That’s weird. You have actual pictures of me wearing lingerie.” He also had a picture of her pussy that he refused to delete. Good thing his phone was password and fingerprint protected.

“I like those pictures.” His voice dropped as the Dom in him asserted itself. “But, Kitty Kat, the wedding dress says unequivocally that you belong to me. Nothing is sexier than that.”

Her breath caught at his tone. “You’re such a romantic.”

“How about a picture?”

“Nope.” She smiled as she refused him. “I’m not bending on this. You can’t see my dress before the wedding.”

“At least tell me what the neckline looks like. And how long is the skirt? What are you wearing under it?”

She laughed. “No clues. You’ll have to wait.”


“A tease would send you pictures of random dresses.”

Reviews for Re/Paired

“Wow.  This book was so freaking hot!! [Re/Paired] has great balance….heavy on the romance with enough suspense to keep it interesting and that’s how I like it.”–Under the Covers Book Blog

5 Stars/Purest Delight from Guilty Pleasures: “This was a great read with a damaged Dom who learns to cherish his sub, a lot of hot BDSM action, suspense, and complex relationships”

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Posted in Excerpts, SAFE security

Jessica’s Forgery–Deleted Scene

As I wrote Switching It Up, I had to figure out what was going on with Jesse and Jessica because it impacted what was going on with David and Brea. In doing so, I wrote Forging Love, a prequel novella for Jesse and Jessica’s story.

Once I finished Switching It Up, I went back to clean up Forging Love because I knew that you guys would want to read this story! One thing I realized was that I’d overwritten the story. If you’ve read these, you know that there’s a point when Their stories all overlap. I didn’t want to tell that from too many point of view, so I cut the ending of Forging Love. Some of what I cut wasn’t an overlap–it just didn’t fit into the timeline I’d established.

So this is an unedited scene I cut from Forging Love. It features Jessica and her father working together to create the diary that sends Jessica and Brea on their adventure.

Deleted scene from Forging Love

At home that afternoon, I fired up the stove and the coffee maker. Warren watched me, his chin wrinkled in confusion. “I thought you just had lunch?”

Leon had met Sylvia and me at a place renowned for crab legs, and I’d stuffed myself because who can stop when such deliciousness is in front of them? Not me.

I set out some papers where I’d handwritten the text of a false journal, the first step in the forgery process. Then I took one sheet and crumpled the edges. “I’m making a present for Brea.”

Warren studied the situation. “It looks to me like you’re aging paper. Are you forging for fun now?”

Though my parents knew a little about my past, we didn’t often discuss it. Certainly my father had never brought it up in a joking kind of way before now. I met his gaze and smiled. “Art is fun and fulfilling. Forging is an art.”

“Therefore forging is fun and fulfilling.” He pulled out a bar stool and settled on the opposite side of the counter. “Can I help?”

When I was young and learning the trade, BS had spent many an hour helping me perfect my skills. I didn’t know how I felt about essentially doing the same thing with the man who actually was my father. I took a deep breath. “Sure. We need all the cookie sheets.”

He got up and searched through the cupboards. “You can’t use the flat ones because your mother would kill us if they got ruined.”

Sylvia had an impressive collection of baking pans, and when the convection baking sheet craze had gripped the world a few decades ago, she’d signed on wholeheartedly. “We need ones with edges.”

“You’re going to soak them in coffee.” Warren caught on quickly. “I thought you were supposed to brush it on.”

“Brushing it on leaves obvious markings. I prefer to use a sponge.” I smoothed out the paper I’d crumpled. “First we wrinkle the papers on the edges. Since this is going to be a booklet, it’s reasonable that the middle of the pages wouldn’t be wrinkled, though they might be torn.”

I walked him through the process of aging paper. First I took some wet coffee grounds and strategically sprinkled them over a few of the pages. Then I poured a thin layer of coffee around the papers. “Never pour it directly on the paper. That’s an amateur move.” We scored small holes in some of the pages, and we mined an extra sheet for small bits to roll into balls. I showed Warren how to press these to the papers so that they melded together to create irregularities in the pulp.
Warren sponged away excess liquid. “Paper was made by hand back then, so irregular is the normal look.”

“True.” I rummaged through the deep drawer where Sylvia kept the graters, mashers, and other kitchen gadgets. I found a measuring spoon and a grilling fork. “These can be used to make additional marks on the pages.” I showed him how to use just the right pressure. Letting him help at all was taxing on my nerves. Not only was I beating back flashbacks of BS coaching me through the rudiments of forgery, if Warren messed up one of the pages, it would take a lot of time to recreate the text, and I’d stayed up really late last night composing these.

We stepped back to inspect our work. “Now what?”

“Now we bake them.”

Sylvia came into the kitchen, her hair still wet from her recent shower. “Bake what?”

“Pages of a journal detailing the location of buried treasure.” Warren beamed.

“Jessica is teaching me how to forge stuff.”

Sylvia’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as she searched for a response. Finally she focused on me. “Do you think it’s wise to start down that path again?”

“It’s a present for Brea.” When Sylvia continued to give me a stern look that must have sent Leon scrambling for cover, I elaborated. “She won’t be fooled. She knows my work.”

Sylvia didn’t buy my story. She wasn’t as desperate as Warren to connect with me. She crossed her arms. “What do you hope to accomplish by giving this to her?”

I decided it was best to come clean. “David and the rest are heading out on missions tomorrow. I’m hoping Brea will decide to go somewhere with me instead of just sitting around, waiting for them to get back. She’s been researching legends of buried treasure in San Tesoro, so I thought this presented the perfect opportunity to go looking.”

Warren removed a sheet pan from the oven. “They have nice beaches. I hope you’re not going hiking through a jungle and up a mountain. While you’ve come a long way in the last nine months, you’re still not up for strenuous physical activity.”

I wasn’t about to rule that out. Maybe I wasn’t fully recovered, but that wasn’t going to stop me from pushing myself. “I’m sure we’ll spend some time looking for treasure. There’s a treetop hotel there where we can basically stay in treehouses.”

This was a true statement, and I used it to put Sylvia at ease. The last thing either of them needed right now was to spend time worrying over Brea or me. This was why Jesse, David, Dean, and Frankie treated most mission details as if they were classified; they didn’t want us to worry about factors that were beyond our control. Lying was sometimes a sweet and thoughtful kind of manipulation.

“You’ll miss PT,” Warren said. “You’ll miss your session with Doctor Eliachevsky.”

I hoped to be back in time to make my Thursday appointment with my shrink, but I kept that to myself. “I’ll be fine. This’ll be a kind of therapy for me.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Sylvia abandoned her firm stance. “It’s been a long, long time since we’ve gone on vacation with you girls.”

I’d been inspecting the finish on the dried pages. Once the booklet was put together, I’d distress the edges. Sylvia’s wistful tone made me feel guilty. I straightened up and looked her squarely in the eye. “Maybe next time. I’m thinking this’ll have more of an irresponsible feel than a bring-your-parents-along feel.”

Warren coughed, and his face turned red. “Pack sunscreen. And condoms.”

I lifted a brow. “I hadn’t planned on it being that fun, but I’ll make sure I’m covered.”

Sylvia eyeballed the baking sheets. “Since you have those out, let’s make snickerdoodles.”

It ended up being a nice family bonding experience.

The next morning, Warren dropped me off at my treasure store. He hauled my bag inside. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes. Even if we don’t go anywhere, I’ll stay with Brea while David is away.”

“You’ll call and let me know either way?”

I kissed his cheek. “I promise.”

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Posted in Excerpts, SAFE security

Thoughtful Heroes

When I was a teenager, I had a subscription to Sassy magazine. As a 13 yo, I loved it. By the time I was 14, I’d outgrown it. I decided to let the subscription run out, but it didn’t. It just kept coming. Finally one day, I remarked on this puzzling event to my dad, and he laughed. “I keep finding those subscription cards on the kitchen table, so I send them in. I thought you were leaving them for me because you wanted to renew the subscription.”

Thoughtful, right? I think about things like this sometimes when I’m creating my heroes.

David and Brea have been through a lot in their three books, and part of what he had learned is to be mindful of how her perspective is different from his (and vice versa) due to their previous experiences. He know that she has a ton of baggage, too much to tell him in a few months. He could literally spend a lifetime finding out about everything she’s said and done. At the end of the day, he has to trust that he knows her well enough to respond appropriately to anything that might come up. Here’s an excerpt where he finds out some pretty damning things about her, and he responds like a true hero.

Excerpt from Switching It Up:

I sat in my chair and opened the file. It contained eight-by-ten glossies. The top one showed a much younger Brea deep in conversation with an older man wearing wire-rimmed glasses. He looked familiar, but his name didn’t come to me. The next one was a satellite image that showed her in some kind of compound, a rifle slung over her shoulder. The third featured a swarthy man kissing her cheek, and the last two showed her speaking with groups of people. I picked out a known gun runner, two high-level drug dealers, and Eugene Bowen, the kidnapper she’d known as Brian Sullivan.

I closed the file folder. “What’s all this?”

“This is the woman you’re planning to marry. Are you aware of her background?”

While I knew a lot about her background, there was a ton that was still a mystery. For the most part, Brea didn’t like to talk about her past. She had secrets and things she just didn’t want to talk about, and I’d promised to respect her wishes. I lifted my shoulder in a noncommittal move. It was the ultimate passive-aggressive evasive maneuver.

Grayson chuckled. “I have to be honest, David. I never thought you’d be blinded by love. It’s kind of sweet.” He perched on the arm of the chair on the other side of my desk. “I looked into how the two of you met. The FBI agents with whom you worked filed reports, and I followed up with phone calls. Liam Adair and Keith Rossetti were quick to come to Brea’s defense, and that’s when I realized that she was a master con artist.”

Verbal games and intrigue weren’t funny when they involved my fiancée. “I’m aware of her past, as are you. Cut the bullshit and tell me why you came. I’m not changing my mind about the mission.”

“Fair enough.” He got to his feet, opened the file folder, and tapped his thumb on the older, bespectacled man speaking to a teenaged Brea. “That’s Luis Ramirez, wanted for smuggling drugs and arms in sixteen countries. He’s involved with human trafficking and efforts to arm home-grown insurgents in the US.” He flipped to the next picture. “This is a training facility for a Columbian drug cartel.”

I dismissed them both. “She’s never been to Columbia.” Of course I had no way of knowing if she had or not. In her secret box that she kept hidden from even me, I knew she had a stack of fake driver’s licenses and passports.

This time, Gray did the shrugging. “Associating with many of these people is treason. I don’t even have to arrest her or charge her with anything. There won’t be a trial. She has sensitive information that we need for purposes of national security. I can lock her in a cell in a black site and throw away the key.”

Cold fingers of rage wrapped around my vital organs. I rose slowly, facing my former CO, and it took every ounce of self-control not to kill him. Even if the photos weren’t real, I had no doubt that Gray would follow through on his threat because he believed in violence and retribution.


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Word Count: 57,400