A Big Package is coming your way today!
Warning: This one is sure to warm up chilly nights! 😉
Baby it’s cold outside…but things are about to heat up.
I missed the last bus to my sister’s for Christmas, and now I’m stranded in a bus station—in the middle of a blizzard—with a giant package covered in naughty wrapping paper.
Then he shows up: Kalen Welles, the football star from my high school fantasies—and offers me a ride. Just when the car is getting cozy, the roads get shut down due to snow. Luckily there’s a nearby cabin where we can hole up for the night.
A warm fireplace, cozy blankets, pent-up longing we both spent years ignoring… maybe I’ll be able to unwrap Kalen’s big package before Christmas morning.
But when the snow clears and the ice melts, will the former football star and the shy nerd finally get a happy ending?
“Ottawa? That’s where I’m headed. I just dropped my sister off to catch a bus to Tampa and I’m driving back to Ottawa now. I could give you a ride.”
Her eyes lit up, and she sat up straighter. “Really? I don’t believe it. That would be wonderful.”
He patted the box. “I even have room for your big package.”
Her eyes glittered. “Shouldn’t I be saying that?”
She covered her mouth, her eyes widening and her cheeks turning bright red. “Oh, God, I can’t believe I said that. My mouth gets away from me sometimes.”
He laughed and suddenly realized that her gaze had settled squarely on his crotch. When she realized where she was looking, she her gaze darted away again, her cheeks turning even redder.
“Well, between your mouth and the big package, the trip promises to be fun,” he said.
At the wicked grin on his face, her cheeks flushed a deeper red.
“Look, really. I’m not coming on to you. I just . . . it was a silly joke. Nerves overcoming my stupidity censor.”
He smiled warmly. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think you’re coming on to me.” Actually, he had, but from her blazing cheeks, he realized this was out of character for her.
He held out his hand. “My name is Kalen Welles.”
She shook it. “I’m Holly Benson.”
Bring home your Big Package now!
And remember – you can get a free erotic read just by signing up for my Reader Group: http://OpalCarew.com/ReaderGroup
Today is the day! NAILED is out now!
Warning: this is another hot one! 😉
He’s about to take control of her body…and her dream.
When River set up a fundraiser to kick start her nail polish business, she never expected someone to pay five thousand dollars just to have dinner with her. But when she meets her mysterious benefactor, he turns out to be billionaire Kane Winters—the one man from her past who she never wanted to see again.
Kane is determined to right the wrong that happened to River in college—because of him. She’s been an obsession he can’t escape…and Kane wants River more than he’s ever wanted anything. So he offers her a deal she can’t refuse: marry him and her business will be success. But River’s knight in shining armor isn’t looking for a platonic business deal. He wants their marriage to be real…in every way.
Nail Polish Galore!!
This book is near and dear to my heart because I am a nail polish fanatic and River, the heroine in the book, is starting up her own indie nail polish company! I’m very excited about the fact that Literary Lacquers has brought to life the actual set of polishes that River creates for her first collection!!!
The nail polish collection is available now. 😀
There are three base colours:
and two topcoats:
The topcoats can go over the other colours (together or separately) because, of course, passion and love always enhance the sexual experience! 🙂
The one other nail polish mentioned in the book, called Tia Wanna, that River wanted to make for her friend Tia, is also included in the collection. 🙂
To see more great pictures of the collection, or to buy them, you can click here or on the picture:
Before she could protest, his lips captured hers. Her body failed her, refusing to pull away when she ordered it to. Then she melted into the kiss. Breathing in his musky aftershave. Luxuriating in the strength of his arms as they slid around her.
The ache became unbearable. A yearning so intense it terrified her.
Then he released her. His knowing eyes searched hers . . . and he smiled.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card and pressed it into her hand.
“Call me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” She tossed the card on the table.
The confidence shining in his eyes didn’t waver.
“If you don’t agree to it, you won’t even have a company.”
His words hit home. Hard. He was right. Looking for a new job would take all her time and energy, and leave her stressed. She wouldn’t have the emotional resources left to work on building her business, let alone money for the physical resources.
She wasn’t willing to give up her dream.
Could she really marry this totally sexy, gorgeous guy who was, great in bed . . . who had broken her heart?
She stuck out her hand. “Okay. It’s a deal.”
Get NAILED now… 😉
And remember – you can get a free erotic read just by signing up for my Reader Group: http://OpalCarew.com/ReaderGroup
Happy Friday Readers! I hope the Mastered 2 box set has kept you bound & pleased throughout the week, and that you’re eager to try out some new tricks this weekend! 😛 Today we’ll be looking at T.J. Michael’s delicious new story, Luscious!
MacKenzie Ivers is a strong personality who submits to one man — her husband, Landon.
After ten years of marriage, a nasty divorce, followed by a sweet reconciliation, Mac wants nothing more than for her husband to stop punishing himself for his part in the former “crazy”. It’s going to require some conniving and some rope…miles and miles of rope. Luckily, Twilight Teahouse has everything she needs to get this particular rigger back in the saddle.
The all-new Mastered 2 Box Set is available now for the special price of $0.99!
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Luscious by T.J. Michaels
Mac was an alpha to the bone. In her case, alpha didn’t mean bitch…well, unless some bitchiness was required at the moment. It was simply her personality and style, and allowed her to successfully run a thriving business in a field dominated by men, and deal with emergencies with ease.
On the flip side of that coin, this man, her husband, brought out the submissive in her like literally no one else could. And when her man crossed his legs and let his vivid green gaze roam boldly from her head to her feet and back again, Mac felt sexy as hell. Blushing, she automatically bowed before him.
“Today, it’s you, me and some rope. Do you consent to this, MacKenzie Chalice Daniels-Ivers?”
Oh dear lord, he called her by her whole name! That was typically reserved for when she was in trouble, or when he planned something intense. Butterflies in her gut were a thing of the past as they morphed into pterodactyls. A shiver went through her whole body and settled down between the joints in her knees. A deep breath did nothing to calm her at all. But one thing was for sure–her nerves skipped around from sheer anticipation of some serious delight.
“Well?” he asked.
“Yes, of course I consent.”
“Good. Go to your play bag and get all of the red bamboo rope.”
How did he know she had that in there? Before she could ask, he said, “I put it in there two nights past in place of that rough jute stuff you had bundled up inside.”
One brow winged its way up her forehead as his words truly registered. And then her man gave her one of the most deliciously promising grins she’d seen on his face lately.
She smiled in return, shaking her head at herself, as understanding dawned. Landon had obviously planned this well in advance. Sure she’d seen the rope when she’d inspected her bag not fifteen minutes ago, but she always had some in there just in case. Easy knots for easy play was something she could handle. But all the ins and outs and its intricate uses were Landon’s domain. And it was a domain he ruled, completely.
Once she was across the room and standing over her bag, another command came.
“Put your locs up into a bun, high on top of your head. Then remove your clothes and leave them folded neatly where you stand. You may keep those sexy ass panties on that you were sashaying around the house in this morning.”
“Sashay?” she gawked.
“Absolutely. And it was a beautiful sight. Have a problem with the word, sashay?” he asked. He lowered his head and watched her through thick coal-black lashes. A smart ass comment was on the edge of her lips when he gave her the look and raised an imperious brow.
Mac blurted, “Nope. No problem at all.”
Tags: 99cents, Alpha, alpha male, anthology, Author, bad boy, BDSM, Bestseller, bikers, billionaire, books, business partners, dominance, domination, erotic, erotica romance, Mastered, menage, Opal Carew, romance, sexual fantasies, short story, submission
Welcome back! Today we’ve got a scorcher of a story to share with you. This alpha bad boy is a Navy SEAL who lets nothing stand in his way and does everything he can to protect the ones he loves. Here comes Cash McCoy in… “Flash Fire”, by bestselling author, Elle Kennedy!
Giving up control has never been so hard…
Navy SEAL Cash McCoy knows all about danger—he lives and breathes it on a daily basis. When it comes to the love of his life, though, this alpha soldier does everything in his power to keep Jen Scott happy and safe. But when the tables are turned and Jen places herself in harm’s way for her job, their relationship is put to the test. Now Cash must learn to trust the woman he loves…or lose her forever.
Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!
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Would it be wrong to hit the man you loved?
Besides, Jen didn’t really want to hit him. Maybe kick him in the shin, though. Or throw something at him. Because…had he really just told her she couldn’t go?
As in, he was attempting to dictate what she could or couldn’t do in her own life?
“Okay, just to be clear,” she said tightly. “You’re telling me I can’t go?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Cash shot back.
Anger and disbelief twisted in her belly, making it difficult to keep the hostility out of her voice. “So you make decisions for me now?”
“About this? Hell yes.” He grabbed his jeans and yanked them on, his sculpted shoulders rigid with tension. “You think I’m going to let my girlfriend happily stroll into a war zone? No way.”
“First of all, it’s not a warzone. And second, even if it was, how is me going any different from what you do?” she challenged. “You put your life at risk on a daily basis!”
“That’s what I trained for, Jen! I went through years and years of training that taught me how to handle myself in dangerous situations.”
“And I can’t handle myself?” she demanded, her skin prickling with offense.
“No, you can’t,” he said bluntly. “You’re trained in self-defense, not in urban warfare.
Central America is too unstable right now. It’s too fucking dangerous, especially for a woman traveling alone.”
“I won’t be alone,” she insisted. “I already told you, the magazine is arranging for a military transport. And there’s a whole unit of US Marines down there training the local military.”
“That doesn’t mean shit if you’re in a town that’s overrun with gangs and they open fire on you, or kidnap you, or kill you.”
“We won’t be going into areas like that.”
“The whole country is areas like that!”
Cash snatched his shirt off the floor and threw it on, radiating waves of white-hot anger.
But his response had left her equally infuriated. It would’ve been one thing if he’d calmly suggested they talk it over, but to flat-out say she couldn’t go? With no discussion? Without even hearing the details?
She didn’t mind a caveman in bed, but this was ridiculous.
“I’ll be taking every precaution. And you know I’ve visited poverty-stricken areas before. I only do boring portraits for Today’s World, but I used to travel on my own, remember?”
“The other places you’ve gone haven’t involved drug cartels and—” He stopped and shook his head. “I don’t know why we’re even still talking about this. You’re not going.”
Every muscle in her body seized to the point of paralysis. Jen could barely take a breath she was so furious. She stared at Cash’s inflexible expression as she struggled to control her temper.
“You have no say in this,” she said stiffly. “If I choose to go, then you can’t stop me.”
She stuck out her chin. “And I choose to go.”
Astonished blue eyes stared back at her. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
“You’d really put your own neck on the line just so your pictures can be featured in a lead story?”
The harsh words stung. “It’s what I signed up for when I got into photography,” she snapped. “I never wanted to be a bubblegum photographer who takes portraits of cats and babies and frickin’ fruit baskets! I want to shed light on real issues and make a difference.” She glared at him accusingly. “You know that. And you always said you supported it.”
“I do support it.” He glared right back. “But not when there’s a risk to your life.”
“There’s a risk to your life every time you go wheels-up. Every time you’re deployed for months on end.” Frustration clawed up her throat. “I have to live with that every fucking day. The worry and the panic and the fear that I’ll never see you again—”
“Well, it’s your turn to live with it. I’m going, Cash.”
“Jen…” A warning note crept in.
“I’m going,” she repeated. “And as much as I would love your support about this, I don’t need it in order to accept this assignment. Nor do I need your approval.”
Cash didn’t answer. A noticeable vein appeared in his forehead, his mouth set in a tight, angry line. He looked ready to explode, but Jen didn’t care. His high-handed, domineering reaction to this whole situation had seriously pissed her off.
“By the way,” she said curtly. “I leave tomorrow.”
A Marine whose soul is tortured by his mystical abilities puts his life—and heart—on the line to rescue a Plain Jane school teacher and her students from an archaeological field trip gone horribly wrong.
Sarah McCormick had one last shot at adventure. Resigned to the life of a spinster, the prim school teacher planned to lead five teenage girls to the shadowy isle of Tenebrosa. There, in a tropical paradise, they would study an ancient people and perhaps learn something about themselves. But a mountain of a man upset her plans–a handsome Indian who claimed she and her students would be in peril. And when the virile ex-Marine swore to protect them, Sarah wondered what’s in jeopardy–her body or her heart?
Hawk had to admit that he longed to be enlightened by the brainy beauty. He’d seen the shy schoolmarm cut a man to ribbons with her sharp tongue, and he was haunted by visions of schooling her lush, surprisingly soft lips in passion. He’d touched her only as a protector, but in those moments he’d discovered how delicate and decidedly feminine her long, lithe body was. Now, threatened by an evil as old as Tenebrosa itself, Hawk knew that her kiss could stave off the shadows and their love could light the way to paradise.
Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!
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“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” His voice vibrated across the distance, a bare whisper in the encroaching night.
” Are you following me?” He advanced on her, and Sarah involuntarily backed away as he quickly closed the distance with his long strides.
She jumped back from his hoarse command. The flashlight clattered to the ground, and her hair snagged on something behind her. She reached back to free her braid from its entanglement, and Hawk lunged forward.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. At the same instant, he reached into a pocket of his vest and pulled out a knife. Not a knife. A sword! A wicked, twelve-inch killing thing that glinted in the twilight.
He raised it above his head and swung it down with deadly force. Sarah screamed. She jerked her shoulder away from the sure blow and rammed into the brick wall of his chest. His arm trapped her there like a steel vise and lifted her clear off the ground. She pounded with her fists and kicked with her legs, pummeling for all she was worth, frantic with the knowledge that he would attack her, desperately frightened to realize how much bigger and stronger and unyielding he was than she.
“Sarah! It’s over now. It’s okay.” Her feet touched the ground and his shoulders curved over her, blocking out the rest of the night.
His chest muffled her screams. Through her daze of panic she heard low-pitched reassurances crooning in her ear. The arm that had cinched her to him still held her just as tightly but he splayed his fingers and stroked up and down the side of her rib cage, soothing her like a frightened animal.
As the hazy grip of panic began to clear, she realized that she felt no pain. He hadn’t stabbed her after all.
“What?” She gasped, gathering her composure as much as her breath. “Why?”
Her senses returned and she remembered the knife. The big knife. She angled her head back because she could move no further and slapped at his shoulder. “What are you doing with a weapon like that here? It’s stupid and dangerous—”
“That’s better. I’d rather see you spitting mad than afraid.” She wanted to stay angry with him. She wanted to vent her frustrations, but his unexpected teasing undid her. She stopped her tirade and noticed his mouth, mere inches from hers.
She caught her breath at the sheer masculine beauty of it. Straight white teeth framed by firm, thin lips. They were close enough that she could feel his warm breath fanning across her face. She inhaled the soapy, clean, masculine scent of him, tinged by the faint pungency of the insect salve he, too, wore.
Sarah’s stomach flip-flopped. An unusual heat sparked there and curled lower as a whole new set of sensations vibrated through her, every bit as powerful as her anger, but much more pleasurable. His chest was so hard, his hold unbreakable yet so gentle, his mouth so tempting.
She stared at that temptation and discovered she couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened with a customary clench of shyness. She damned her cursed inability to voice her desires. She wanted to savor the rush of adrenaline coursing through her. She wanted to channel it in a way a woman and man could share together. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to want to kiss her. And yet she knew he wouldn’t. All she could do was lecture him. All he could do was put up with her.
“You were backing into a web.” As if sensing her clouded ability to speak, Hawk took over the duties for her. Grateful for the change of topic that doused both her desire and her embarrassment, she relaxed and followed the inclination of his head. He twisted his right wrist and lifted his knife to eye level. Skewered at the end was a brown, hairy spider the size of two Ping-Pong balls stuck together.
“Spider! Big spider!” she shrieked.
She spun and buried her face in his shoulder. As hard as she had hit him before, she now clutched him tightly, clinging to fistfuls of his shirt and vest. She felt his arm flinch as he flicked the horrid creature into the jungle and wiped the blade clean on his pant leg.
He shifted his stance and wrapped both arms around her, catching her more fully in his embrace. He tugged at her braid, picking out the sticky white residue that had caught her hair. He bent his head and cooed into her ear, calming her with whispers in a language she didn’t understand. The ups and downs of the day caught up with her and she sagged against him, weary with emotional fatigue, grateful for his gentle, steadying strength.
“That’s it, honey. You’re gonna be all right. You’ll beat this like you beat those bureaucrats back home.”
Hello again, I hope you’re having a wonderful week! If today’s been a little gloomier than usual, just remember that there are infinite possibilities and you never know when a hero (maybe you, maybe a stranger) will emerge and save the day! That, and someone out there is probably having a worse day than you! Case-in-point: Today’s selection from the Dangerous Passions Box Set brings us two people who had a bad day that was made better by a steamy night– only to have one of them become witness to a murder. To escape danger once and for all, the two of them must hunt down the murderer and bring them to justice. Here is Bridger’s Last Stand by bestselling author, Linda Winstead Jones.
In the grand scheme of things, Detective Malcolm Bridger’s day was much worse than Frannie Vaughn’s.
She’d had a bad day…
As if getting fired wasn’t bad enough, the haircut Frannie got to cheer herself up was a complete disaster.
He’d had a bad day…
Homicide Detective Mal Bridger had never killed a man. Until today.
They meet by chance, and one very bad day turns into a pretty good night. But when their one night stand makes Frannie a witness to murder and puts her in danger, Mal refuses to let her out of his sight until the murderer is caught.
He never meant to be a hero, and she never knew she needed one . . .
Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!
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The music came to an end, and they stopped moving. Bridger didn’t let her go right away, but held her hand and kept a steadying arm around her. “Maybe we shouldn’t blow up the jukebox after all,” he whispered.
Another selection soon took the place of the slow love song, and the spell was broken. Harsh sounds filled the bar, and Frannie jerked her head around to look at the jukebox. “That’s it,” she said, forgetting Reese and her lost job. Bridger’s arms fell away. “What?” He faced the jukebox with her, his entire body alert as he faced an unseen threat.
“That’s the noise my car’s making.” A man with a reverberating deep voice was repeating a short phrase, quick, choppy and harsh, the sound vibrating through tinny speakers. It sounded just like the engine of her ancient Buick.
Bridger relaxed visibly and led her back to the bar. “I don’t know a lot about cars, but I’d say that’s at least a five-hundred-dollar noise.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
They reclaimed their stools, side by side. The place was uncomfortably empty without the chattering women they’d listened to all evening. Frannie played with what was left of her drink.
It was melted, unappetizing, and she’d had her limit, anyway. But she didn’t want to leave. What did she have waiting for her at home? She loved her little house, but there was nothing—no one—waiting for her there. There were just messages from her mother and a little harsh reality, and she was in no mood to face either at the moment.
An old man, the last of the night’s crowd but for Bridger and Frannie, tossed a bill onto the table and weaved his way to the door, waving over his shoulder to Benny.
“He’s not going to drive, is he?” Frannie asked as she watched the man stumble, check the floor for a nonexistent hazard, and move on.
“No,” Bridger answered. “I’ve seen him around. He lives around the corner in that old department store they converted into apartments a couple years back.”
“Last call,” Benny said cheerfully, and they twirled around to face him as he placed two fresh drinks on the bar. “This round’s on me.”
The jukebox was silent at last. Benny was turning the chairs up on the tables that were scattered throughout the room, preparing to sweep up and close for the night.
Frannie didn’t want to go home. She played with the drink before her, stabbing at the frozen concoction with her straw and drinking nothing, delaying the inevitable. Bridger was gloomy again, as miserable as he had been when she’d first arrived and seen him sitting there staring into his drink. Maybe he didn’t want to go home, either.
They hadn’t talked about the shooting since he’d told her what happened, but it had to be on his mind. He’d saved lives today, but he’d also taken one. That couldn’t be easy. She glanced again at the gun he wore.
She liked Bridger too much. It wasn’t just that he was pleasant to talk to, or that he was a great dancer. He had a kind soul, and she’d known it after talking to him for five minutes. She sat beside a kind soul in a six-foot-plus body, a guardian angel with a gun strapped to his belt, a man who could love a woman and protect her from anything.
Two drinks and she was hallucinating. “Good night, Detective Bridger,” she said, a false brightness in her voice as she slid from the bar stool and put those ideas out of her mind. “Thanks for commiserating with me.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “any time,” but she couldn’t be sure.
“Good-night, Benny,” she said without looking back. “I’m going to make a pit stop and then I’m headed for home.”
She really didn’t want to go home, back to the house that was small and yet too big for one person, back to the messages from her mother that she would eventually have to answer, back to the reality that she didn’t have a job anymore. She was at a crossroads, and she didn’t know where to go from here.
When she came out of the rest room, she was surprised to find Bridger waiting for her. He was leaning against the wall by the pay phone with his head down and his hands in his pockets.
As the ladies’ room door swung closed, he lifted his head.
When his eyes latched on to hers her heart skipped a beat. Malcolm Bridger had cop’s eyes: eyes that had seen too much and never missed anything. How could eyes like that be anything but lonely?
“I can’t let you drive home,” he said softly.
“I walked,” she said quickly. “I wanted to show that good-for-nothing car of mine that I didn’t need it. My house isn’t too far. I don’t think it took me twenty minutes to get here.” Of course, it had started raining on her when she’d been halfway to Rick’s. Maybe walking hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
“I’ll drive you,” he said, never moving from the spot where he’d planted his feet. She had the impression it was a statement, not an offer.
She was treading on very dangerous ground, and she knew it. She should play it safe, brush him off, call a cab, maybe laugh at him for good measure. Frannie Vaughn did not make a habit of picking up strangers in bars. She was a good girl, a cautious woman. Her mother had taught her well, by bad example if not design.
So why did she have the overwhelming desire to walk into Detective Bridger’s arms and ask him to hold her tight?
Why did she want to bury her face against his chest and breathe deeply once again?
Loneliness, certainly. Lust, maybe. She wasn’t particularly well acquainted with the latter.
Life’s been so busy since before the holidays and then I got the flu, so I’ve fallen behind on lots of things, but now I’m making great progress on my current book and am writing some short stories to publish soon!
For those waiting for it, I hope to have The Office Slave #4 out within a month or so! Sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long!
As soon as story #4 is out, I will release a new boxed set with story #3 (On Her Knees) and story #4 (don’t have a title yet). In fact, here’s a sneak peak at the cover for that boxed set.
I’ll have stories in 4 boxed sets over the next few months! Many of you may be interested in our Invitation to Eden boxed set coming out in February. We’re waiting for the cover for that, but I’ll let you know when we get it!
The new Mastered 2 boxed set will be out in April and it’s already up for preorder. The set will contain 10 brand new stories by some fabulous authors! The cover is still being updated, since the author line-up has changed since we first had it made in the fall. You can see the current list of authors included on the Amazon listing.
I’ll keep you posted as things become available, but if you want to hear about these as they release, you can sign up for my newsletter!
Hello Readers! Thank you so much for keeping up with our coverage of the Captured box set- we’re almost finished! Today we’ll be looking at one of the more sinister selections, Debt Inheritance by NYT & USAT Bestselling author, Pepper Winters!
“I own you. I have the piece of paper to prove it. It’s undeniable and unbreakable. You belong to me until you’ve paid off your debts.”
Nila Weaver’s family is indebted. Being the first born daughter, her life is forfeit to the first born son of the Hawks to pay for sins of ancestors past. The dark ages might have come and gone, but debts never leave. She has no choice in the matter.
She is no longer free.
Jethro Hawk receives Nila as an inheritance present on his twenty-ninth birthday. Her life is his until she’s paid off a debt that’s centuries old. He can do what he likes with her—nothing is out of bounds—she has to obey.
There are no rules. Only payments.
The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!
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Excerpt from Debt Inheritance by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Pepper Winters!
I sat on my newest purchase, resting like a mechanical shadow by the curb. It didn’t glint or gleam. It waited in black silence ready to charge into the night.
Give her options. Don’t make her suspect. Threaten only when necessary. Above all, take her without causing attention.
The rules my father told me the morning I left to fly to Milan, repeated in my head. I was obeying. Even though it was fucking hard. I struggled to balance my true nature with that of a polite gentleman, coaxing a skittish woman out for dinner.
As if I would be interested in a girl like her. Meek. Skinny. Beyond fucking sheltered it was insane.
Grabbing the throttle of my bike, I waged with ignoring my father’s rules and stalking into the venue and stealing Nila Weaver in front of everyone. She could scream, shout—it wouldn’t make a difference. But that wasn’t allowed.
The other option was I could just fuck off and kidnap her from her hotel room.
She has to come willingly.
My father’s voice again. Kidnapping was the last resort.
I growled under my breath.
I’d let her go, not because of some decency, or concern of what would happen to her family’s happiness, or even the upcoming pain in her future. No, I let her go, because I was my father’s son and followed a plan. But there was a deeper reason, too.
I was a hunter. Skilled with both bow and arrow and gun. I stalked the weaker and slit their throats when they succumbed to my careful aim.
But sometimes I liked to…miss. I liked to give them a small window of safety, all while closing the noose when they didn’t expect it.
I liked to play with my food.
The chase was the best part. Hunting was intoxicating. And knowing I had the power to snuff out Nila Weaver’s life the moment I caught her gave me a certain…thrill.
That was the only reason I restrained myself and followed the rules.
I had no secrets of why I would stain my hands with her blood. I had no misplaced vendettas or agendas.
Everything that would come to pass was for one simple and undisputable fact.
There was a debt to be paid. And I was the method of extraction. Plain and simple.
I’m a Hawk. She’s a Weaver.
That was all I needed to know.
In the library a week ago, while sipping on a ten thousand pound bottle of cognac, my father proceeded to tell me a little of our history. He told me gruesome things. Dastardly things. Tears shed. Blood spilled.
He told me what happened to Nila’s mother.
He also told me why every firstborn Weaver girl had a stain upon her life. I understood it. I accepted it. I was given the task to uphold my family’s honour. And I fully intended to extract payment as meticulously and as painfully as possible.
It wasn’t often I was given the opportunity to make my bastard of a father proud. I didn’t intend to let him down.
Even though I wouldn’t enjoy it.
Liar. You will enjoy it.
A tight smile twisted my lips. Fine. I would enjoy it. Nila Weaver would be my greatest trophy. I might not be able to display her head on my wall once I was through, but I would treasure the memories.
Something told me I would no longer find pleasure in hunting hapless deer after I’d hunted a woman.
Oh, yes. I would enjoy ruining Nila, because I liked breaking things. But not in a gruesome barbaric way.
I liked to break them smoothly, gently, ruthlessly. I liked to think I transformed creatures from their present to their potential.
Pity once Nila was transformed she wouldn’t be allowed to enjoy her evolution. She would be dead.
That was the final toll. That was her future.
To kill something so naïvely pretty…
It made me angry in a way to think of such delicate perfection snuffed out. But there was no point thinking of the end when the chase had just begun.
My head snapped up, eyes locking onto my prey. The same prey who’d run yet returned.
She’d returned? I was right before. She truly is stupid.
Nila drifted forward, threading and unthreading her fingers. I didn’t move or utter a sound.
She responded to my silence—like everything. I’d learned that cursing and yelling could be frightening—but silence…it was the empty void where enemies’ fears polluted. Stay quiet long enough and horror would be struck with one whisper instead of a multitude of profanities.
She waved at my bike, her eyes wider than before…darker than before.
Deciding to grant her a reply, I said, “It’s my version of accessorising.” The Harley-Davidson was a new purchase. Sleek and sharp, nicknamed The Little Black Dress.
Stroking the throttle, I tilted my head. Her dusky skin had colour. Her pronounced cheekbones were flushed, trailing residual temper down her neck. Something had happened.
Something had upset her.
Did she find her father, only for him to disown her and send her back to me?
I frowned. Could Archibald Weaver truly send his only daughter not once, but twice, to her death? He knew what awaited her. He knew what would happen if he didn’t give her up. But was family honour that strong? Or was there more to this debt than I’d been told?
Either way, it was time to go. Time to begin her nightmare.
She nodded. “I returned. I want something from you. And I’m not going to be shy about asking.”
A flicker of surprise caught me unaware. She came across shy and timid, but there lurked steel in her voice. Little did she know what I wanted from her in return.
“Fair enough. I have something to discuss with you.”
Don’t make her suspect.
Your future. Your death.
“Nothing important, but we need to go.”
Time to begin. The time is nigh to pay your debts.
Nila came closer, shedding the tameness, and embracing courage. I would’ve been intrigued if I didn’t already know everything about her.
Such a silly girl. A silly toy.
Whatever she wanted from me, I’d oblige. After all, she’d been given to me to do as I pleased.
And everyone knows you don’t give a pet to a killer.
Hello & Welcome back Readers! Today we take another look into the Captured Box’s paranormal stories, and this one is by far the hottest- literally. Without further adieu, let us turn up the heat with NYT & USAT Bestselling author Mandy Rosko’s story, Burns Like Fire.
Scarred by flame and the loss of his family, Jack Marilla will stop at nothing to take down the fire-starter that ruined his life, but only if he can resist her fiery temptation…
Jack Marilla is out for revenge for the deaths of his family, and the burn scars that cover his body. To get it, he has to hunt down the woman he used to love, the paranormal fire starter who set his house ablaze with him, and his family, locked inside of it. When he catches her, however, he faces his biggest challenge yet. To not believe her when she claims to be innocent, or fall for her seduction…
The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!
❤ ❤ ❤
Excerpt from Burns like Fire by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Mandy Rosko
Cindy stared at him. Her bright amethyst eyes widened so he could see the whites all around.
Her glossy peach lips dropped open as her facial expression changed from scared to all hell to just plain confused. He got a real dumb sense of satisfaction over that. Yeah, she’d thought he was good and dead.
“Jack?” she practically shrieked his name.
She was so focused on his face, probably wondering why it wasn’t melted, or why he was even alive, that she didn’t look down and see the rag or the shackles hanging in his free hand until it was too late.
She tried to jump to the passenger side, to get away, but Jack lunged. He grabbed her by her frail shoulders and pushed her down across the seats. He pushed the rag hard over her mouth and nose before she could shriek for help.
He had the shackle in his other hand and he almost got it down on her wrist before she punched him good and hard in the nose. Her thin, tiny knuckles didn’t look like much, but they hurt like a bitch on impact. He thought he even heard a crunch.
“Ah, fuck!” He reared back and dropped the cuffs to the floor of her car, but he didn’t take the cloth off of her nose as he cursed and yelled.
That fucking hurt! Blood dripped from his nose and onto her pale collarbone and dress in the struggle. She got him good that time. He wasn’t about to let her do it to him again.
Her sharp manicured nails scratched at his hands, drawing even more blood. Jack grabbed both of her wrists and yanked them above her head, holding them down with one hand while he kept up the pressure of the cloth with the other. She kicked and struggled as she breathed in the chemical, but she didn’t have the strength to buck him off and he avoided her knees when she tried to get him in the balls.
Don’t summon fire. Don’t summon fire, he chanted in his head over and over again. She had it in her eyes, he could see it building up around her as the temperature of her body increased.
If she burned him, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’d fly right off her and she’d be as good as gone. She’d get away and he might never find her again.
Cindy’s struggles beneath him started to let up. There wasn’t much physical strength to begin with, but now it was almost nonexistent as the hint of flames left her eyes, and her body went limp.
Jack released her hands. He panted for breath as if he was the one who’d just lost the fight. The car stank of sweat mixed with the sweet scent of the chloroform. He was careful to keep the rag away from his own face, already starting to feel sort of dizzy himself.
“I finally got you,” he said.
Then Cindy’s eyes widened as she came alive again. She clawed at his hands and arms with her manicured nails, scratching deep.
“Fuck! Stop that!” Jack roared, grabbing onto her wrists and yanking them above her head again.
Holy shit, she’d just faked that. Smart. It pissed him the hell off, but he had to admit it was smart.
When blood beaded up from the scratches on his hand, Jack growled, and he forgot all about being impressed. Was she ever going to pass out? Had he used enough of the chemical? If she didn’t go under soon then that fire would come and light him up like his father and brothers.
No fire came. Cindy’s struggles weakened, for real this time as he held the rag to her face, for longer this time. Her bright, fearful eyes slid shut as she gave one last jerk before going under.
Jack sighed, relaxing his tense muscles as the only sound in the car was his own heavy breathing. He wiped the sweat off his brow. Not the worst paranormal he’d put under by far, but she hadn’t given in easily.
Adrenaline rushed through him as he stared down at her unconscious form. Cindy’s hair was all over the damned place, her arms up high as her breasts rose and fell in sleep. She could have just dozed off for how innocent she looked. The only thing that gave away the struggle was her flushed skin.
He pulled the damp cloth away from her mouth and nose. He hadn’t even realized his heart was beating so fast, and he lifted himself off of her.
Being on top of an unconscious woman was creepy, regardless of who she was and why they were both there.
“Holy Christ,” he sighed, letting himself drop to the cool and dirty pavement of the parking lot.
He sucked in a breath of clean, fresh air, and carded his fingers through his hair.
Though he hated having to touch her again, even for the capture, he’d still noticed how smooth her skin felt when he’d grabbed her arms. Her body beneath his had been exactly the same. It was like muscle memory had taken over when he’d straddled her, and as she’d bucked her hips up to try and push him off, his body had responded.
It wasn’t his fault his dick didn’t know the difference between fighting and fucking, that it didn’t realize she’d been trying to get him off of her, not gyrating against his heavy prick for friction.
Jack shook his head. That was too weird, especially considering she’d burned down the house he and his family had been sleeping in..
Fuck that and fuck her. He wasn’t going to feel guilty because he was a healthy male who was reacting to a beautiful woman. She was the one with something to answer for, not him.
All because Jack had been the one guy in the whole history of time stupid enough to tell a pyro that his family made their profession out of hunting paranormals for the government.
Really, what had he expected her to do? Be happy about it?
“I got you,” he said again, and then he laughed as he stared up at the night sky. The stars were bright. “I got you.”
Abducted by a space pirate, she fights the temptation to let him plunder her goods
A boyfriend’s attempted murder leaves Megan floundering in the ocean. Sinking without hope, the bright light she sees in the night sky isn’t her doorway to heaven, but rather the beginning of her accidental abduction by a space pirate. While thankful of his rescue, Megan stays true to form and just can’t keep her mouth shut, even when he keeps threatening to kill her–or auction her off to the highest bidder. Even odder, despite her decision to not get involved with her wickedly hot captor, she can’t help craving his touch.
Tren retired from his job as a mercenary so he could enjoy life, but he never counted on the boredom of normalcy. The acquisition of rare items has somewhat filled the void, but his accidental abduction of an outspoken earthling, who doesn’t know when to shut up, turns his life upside. Her fiery spirit draws him while at the same time drives him insane. Struggling with his urges, he must decide– throttle her barbarian neck or ravish her delectably lush body?
Despite what his heart tries to tell him, he’s determined to sell her to the highest bidder even as he seduces her body. However, despite his best intentions, he discovers he can’t let her go. And when a foe from his past thinks to steal her, he’ll do anything to get her back.
The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!
❤ ❤ ❤
Excerpt from Accidental Abduction by NYT & USAT Bestseller, Eve Langlais!
Whole in body, unsure of her spirit, and with more questions than a cop, Megan prowled around the edges of the room, running her hands along the surface looking for a seam or something to press that would allow her to exit. She also really wished she could find something to wear.
Somehow encountering alien life while in the buff didn’t seem like it would put her at an advantage, so when she heard a whisper of sound behind her, she whirled while slapping one hand over her crotch and flinging the other across her boobs.
Given her generous size, that didn’t accomplish much other than make her alien kidnapper open his eyes wide before laughing, an apparently universal sound. “I fail to see the humor,” she growled through gritted teeth. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you turn around, or even better, run along to fetch me some clothes.”
That shut him up even if he remained facing her. “Xfinewfikagdolpa?” He spoke to her in a guttural tongue that sent shivers dancing along her skin.
She ignored how his voice affected her and concentrated on the fact she didn’t understand a damned thing he said. “I don’t know what the hell you just said, so do you want to try again in English instead of whatever alien language you’re using.” She tapped a bare foot as she glared at him imperiously—naked or not, she refused to show fear even if inside, she quivered at the situation.
He snarled some foreign words before throwing something at her and stalking out of the room.
Fabric hit her as she watched in stunned amazement how the previously unseen door just slid across the opening, leaving the wall seamless again.
Unsure of when the annoyed alien freak would return, she scrambled to get into the clothes, his she surmised judging by the size and style: a white tunic shirt that hung to her knees and pants that hugged her rounded ass but went well past her ankle. She sat down and rolled the bottoms until her feet peeked out. As attire went, she was well covered if braless.
As she waited for the Martian to return, her mind took the time to dissect his appearance properly. First, immense didn’t begin to describe him. The man had to tower over her by at least a foot or more, and at five foot eight, she wasn’t some dainty little flower. And talk about wide.
Holy freaking chest. She had only to look down at the shirt that draped her body to swallow in awe at the width of his torso.Big from muscle or fat? Or does he have like alien parts hidden under there?
She couldn’t deny a curiosity to find out. Ignoring his body for a minute, she thought on his face and the color of his skin. Purple, he’s freaking purple. Not a light pansy violet, but a deep rich mauve that made his almost opaque blue eyes pop. His dark hair, with its slight wave, hung almost to his shoulders, the color matching the neatly trimmed goatee on his square chin. He wore a silver ring in one nostril and another in his arched brow. His lips appeared black, but his teeth gleamed brightly—and pointed. Definitely a carnivore with chompers like that. And when he spoke in that strange gibberish, he’d rumbled low and sexy, a gruff voice to go with his tough ass look. She vaguely recalled calling him Han Solo on crack, but she revised that to
Johnny Depp in his pirate role commuted to space. Dark, dangerous, and wickedly hot looking.
Given his alien characteristics, she had to wonder just what other surprises he hid other than his skin color and teeth, like maybe a forked dick or acidic jizz. She slapped a hand over her mouth before she could giggle aloud, not sure if he or some other E.T. watched her from some hidden camera.
Good looks aside, she wasn’t here on an intergalactic cruise to pick up sexy aliens—even if she couldn’t deny curiosity. She’d narrowly escaped her last lover, and now that she had a second chance at life, she needed to swear off men—even hot space ones—for a while. A long while. Hell, maybe I’ll check out what it’s like on the other side. Maybe I’d have better luck with another woman. The idea didn’t enthuse her. A carpet muncher she was not.
With no warning, the wall slid open again and her dark pirate stepped in, his clear eyes glittering.
He tossed something small at her and she lifted her hands to catch it—and missed. She’d never excelled at sports, outside the bedroom that was. Naked, she could keep up with any skinny bitch.
The little black object clattered to the floor and she heard an exasperated sigh. “Well, excuse me for not being Miss Agile. You try getting almost drowned by your boyfriend, sucked into some spaceship by a tractor beam, and then having some weird machine experiment on you. I guarantee your reflexes would suck, too.”
He didn’t reply, just crossed his arms across his massive chest and inclined his head at the object on the floor. She stooped to pick it up and turned it in her hand, not recognizing the item at all.
“What is it?”
Another sigh sounded followed by movement. She flicked her gaze at him and sucked in a breath as she discovered him coming at her, almost seven feet of bristling, purple alien pirate. In a disgustingly girly reaction, she backed up. He growled, and in reflex, she growled back. Her response made his brows shoot up. She couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face as she threw him off balance.
In a lightning quick move, his hand shot out toward her and she squeaked before she dashed behind the table she’d woken up on.
“Don’t come near me,” she yelled. “You—you giant, purple weirdo.”
“Kddwolsgewo.” He spoke gibberish again and motioned her forward with his hand.
She snorted. Not likely. He snarled, baring his pointed teeth. With nothing to protect herself, she threw the black thing at him. He caught it with a blurring movement of his hand and she gulped.
He displayed remarkable reflexes. He moved around the table, and she shuffled her feet, keeping herself away.
It wasn’t like her to act so cowardly, but truly, the guy—if an alien could be called a guy—was freaking huge, and he didn’t look happy. She screamed when he leapt over the table and snagged an arm around her waist. She continued to shriek and thrash as he whirled her around. He yanked her back into his hard chest, his one arm an immovable anchor around her waist. His other hand fiddled at her ear, and she screamed. “Let go of me you freakish brute.”
“Would you shut up, you annoying female, before I give into my first impulse to kill you.”
As his words penetrated her panic, she stilled, her chest heaving. “I understood you,” she whispered.
“Of course you did, silly human. If you hadn’t panicked, like your kind are wont to do, I would have shown you how to insert the translator yourself.”
“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?” she snapped back. “It’s not like I’ve ever met an alien before. In my world, we don’t shove things in people’s ears when we meet them for the first time.”
“Yes, I am well aware of your planet’s barbarian status,” he retorted with a disgusted snort.
“What?” she sputtered. “Look who’s calling the kettle black. I’d say you aren’t that far from caveman status yourself.”
“I knew I should have killed you,” he grumbled from behind her.
It occurred to Megan that perhaps she should shut up for a moment before he acted on his words. The silence, though, made her aware of where she stood, more against whom. Pressed against her back, the alien heated her even through the fabric separating them. The palm pressed against her stomach branded her through the thin linen shirt and held her firmly against him. She wiggled in a sudden attempt to get away, but this served only to have him bring her closer and her eyes widened as she felt something poking her in the back. That better not be what I think it is.
Instead of smartly shutting up, she took in a breath. “Oh, no fucking way. If you think I’m going to service you sexually, you are out of your mind. I don’t bang guys I don’t know, and that goes double for aliens. I don’t care if you accidentally rescued me.”
He thrust her from him and snorted. “You think highly of yourself, female, if you think I would stoop to copulating with your pale form. Your mouth alone is enough to shrivel any man’s cock.”
Megan whirled and planted her hands on her hip. “Pale? I’m the one with some normal color here instead of freaking purple. And I’ll have you know, my mouth has never received any complaints; on the contrary, my oral techniques are well known among my lovers.” When his lips twitched into a partial grin, she grasped what she’d said and red heat rose up her neck to color her cheeks. However, she didn’t cower or run. She stood straighter and faced him with a glare.
“Thank you for advising me of your aptitude. I shall be sure to add it to your list of skills when I auction you off at the first available port.”
And with those words, he whirled on his heel and began walking away.
Auction? Oh, hell no. She steeled herself for battle and took off after him.
Tren bristled with anger, not at the Earthling who’d amused him with her brave posturing and inane chattering, but at himself for his interest in finding out just how good her oral skills were.
He had no interest in the barbarian creature. Although, shoving his cock into her chatterbox would at least muffle the sound of her complaining for a while, something his turgid shaft urged him to try.
And there lay another issue—his attraction to her. It didn’t help she’d gone from drowned, wretched looking sea creature to feisty and surprisingly attractive female. Dry, her hair was streaked yellow and brown in a strangely attractive manner and curled slightly. Her backside, which he’d not noticed previously, was round and inviting. As for her two breasted shape, he enjoyed the way her round breasts filled out the fabric of his shirt and how her nipples protruded through the fabric, begging for a mouth to suck them.
No. We do not play with the merchandise. Wait, that applied to virgin stock. From the way this one spoke, she was far from that state. Although, she might end up as frozen food if she keeps haranguing me. She followed close on his heels as he strode away in an attempt to escape her tirade.
“There will be no selling of me and my services,” she screeched from behind him.
Tren ignored her and kept walking. What she wanted didn’t even factor into his decisions.
“Ooh.” Exasperation colored her exclamation, and a moment later, she attacked him, pummeling his back in a fury with her fists.
Seriously? He turned and her blows rained on his rock hard abdomen. He stared down at her while she vented her wrath and only when she slowed did he drawl. “Done yet?”
She raised sparking brown eyes to his, and he couldn’t help notice the pink flush on her cheeks.
He found himself captivated by the redness of her lips, their natural color, he assumed, now that she’d warmed up. He missed seeing her knee, though, which connected with his cock with unerring accuracy.
“Now I am,” she sassed, sounding all too pleased with herself.
Tren gritted his teeth through the burning pain, and before she could inflict more damage, he grabbed her and upended her over his shoulder.