Romantic suspense fiction is my thing, but the truth is that I love writing a diverse range of subjects. Whether I'm writing about love on the run in KISS ME SLOWLY, revenge and murder in RIPTIDE, wounded Marines and human trafficking in RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT, starting life over after suicide in my memoir FREE FALL, new beginnings and adventure in my fun contemporary romance ANONYMITY, escaping to Italy for a once-in-a-lifetime romance in my blog exclusive romance IN BETWEEN, or breaking free of the status quo to live a life of extraordinary possibility in my contemporary romance drama DANCING BAREFOOT
I'm a happy lady livin' the dream.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Let me tell you my secrets... #Masquerade #BDSM #EroticRomance #Paranormal

We all have our secrets...

Let's take a peek beneath the covers of 
#NewRelease Available Worldwide NOW 

Vampires, menages, witches, BDSM, sex clubs, Dommes, subs, zombies. These eight original stories by some of today's hottest erotic romance writers have one thing in common – a Masquerade. Behind a facade, the constraints of society fade, and fantasies come to life. Lose yourself in the Masquerade, and explore your wildest desires. Let's have some fun...


C.P. Mandara - Dancing With Death
Monsieur Martinet is no ordinary vampire. He is a master at his craft and can control humans with the merest flick of his eyelids. The vampire huntress with the porcelain skin and flaming red hair has killed all of his brethren, without exception and he now seeks the ultimate revenge: her submission in HIS bed.

Alisa Easton - Masked Desires
Clara had been accused of many things but daring had never been one of them. Everything changes the night she attends a masquerade ball with her best friend. Her identity hidden behind a mask, Clara is free of her inhibitions to live her wildest fantasies.

Paige Matthews – Secrets
Secrets are always hidden. Masquerade balls hide what we don't want known. Combine them together and you have one erotic tale of firsts, secrets and reveals.

Glenda Horsfall – Under Cover
Learn how the punishment for disobeying her master can be both pleasure and pain.

Gale Stanley – Optical Illusions
Once upon a time, Maggie was easy prey for a pedophile. Now she prefers fantasy to physicality. Then one enchanted evening she meets a man who tempts her beyond all reason.

Kayla Lords – The Iron Maiden
Sir and Babygirl have tested their limits before. This time, they're taking it to whole new level - and making a new friend along the way.

Hunter S. Jones – Fables Deux 
Fables Deux, follow up to the erotic steampunk novella, Fables of the Reconstruction, finds the time traveling zombies Pierre von Minxle and Mary Montague in 2014. You’ll never believe where they are and what they are into now.

Dakota Skye – Dominating Justice
Lawyer by day, sex den owner by night, witch all the time, Melinda Dubois is an expert at keeping secrets. When the thorn-in-her-side Judge Bradley Bennett becomes The Den's newest elite client, she looks forward to playing Domme and doling out some justice of her own. As vulnerabilities are exposed and masks removed, the question becomes---who is dominating whom?

Turning the spotlight on Dakota Skye's Dominating Justice
Brad stared at his bare feet resting on cold hardwood and wondered when he'd lost his mind. Mark had mentioned The Den to him months ago, but he'd laughed it off. Stress relief, his friend had claimed, a break from always being in control. At first he'd assumed Mark had made up this place. After all, as a judge, the risks involved in being here were insurmountable. He'd gone out of his way to avoid anything that would cast a shadow on his judgeship, but between his divorce, his ex remarrying, his children calling some other man 'dad,' shallow women he dated more interested in his political career than bed, and dissatisfaction with his job, he felt distinctly out of control. 
One night over drinks, Mark had slipped him the invitation and told him to ask for Mistress M. That had been months ago, but for some reason today he'd been compelled to act on it. It had been an all-consuming need that drummed mercilessly into him until he'd found himself standing at the entrance, invitation in hand, and eager to surrender inhibition. 
But if he were caught here...or if Mark's assurances about discretion were false...then he'd lose the last shred of dignity he possessed. 
Dignity? Hadn't he just signed that away when he'd agreed to the menu of services provided? 

The click of the door caused him to swallow apprehension and glance up. His eyes narrowed through the dimly lit room illuminated by candles and lamps casting long golden shadows across the dark hardwood floors. Not much like a dungeon, he thought. Decorated tastefully in dark golds, reds and browns, the room exuded a sense of wealth and indulgence. 
Mistress M stepped out of the darkness. Ebony hair cascaded past her shoulders, bare breasts showcased by a leather bustier that kept them pert and separated by a diamond studded strap that wound around her shoulders like a halter. Emerald green eyes peered at him from behind a leather mask as she strode slowly toward him, long legs encased in boots that went to mid thigh, high-heels clicking ominously on the floor, and a crop dangling loosely from her fingers. 
He touched fingertips to the matching collar he'd been instructed to wear and felt his cock tingling in response. He belonged to this exotic woman for the night. Knowing that eased his doubts. 
"Stand up and take off your robe, pet. I want to see you," she instructed as she moved in a slow circle around him. 

He stood slowly, not sure what to say, and undid the sash at his waist. When the satin material slid off his body, he felt the tip of the crop slide up his spine. He held his breath, unsure what to say or do despite the lengthy instructions he'd read prior to signing the agreement. 
"You're missing something." Her hot breath slid against the skin beneath his ear. "Are you already disobeying me?" 
Smack. The blow to his ass made him cry out with both surprise and pain. 
"No, I—"
Smack went the crop against his tender backside. 
"Address me as Mistress M or Mistress. Always."
"Yes, Mistress." He turned his head to look at her and was surprised to see her smiling at him. 
"Do you know what you've forgotten yet?" she asked. 
He looked into her eyes, fascinated by the intensity of their color and the confidence burning in them. He glanced down at the bondage belt he'd been instructed to put on but had forgotten while caught up in the troubling thoughts torturing his mind. 
He reached for it while she watched, more excited than he'd imagined he could be when he'd first stepped into the room. He placed the belt around his waist while his cock rose to the moment. He knew the rules, no actual intercourse, but when he noticed her bare ass exposed by the leather thong, he couldn't help but wish their roles were reversed.
"You're thinking of all the lovely things you could do to me aren't you, pet? Well," she poked him in the center of his chest with the crop, slid it up his throat, and used it to tilt his chin up until they looked at each other eye-to-eye, "I'm not a whore."
"I know—"
"What did you say?" Gloved fingers gripped his jaw and held him firm. 
"Mistress, I'm sorry."
"Get on the table." 
He complied, the cool of the wood against his back awkward as his long legs dangled over the edge while his cock pointed at the ceiling, the air teasing the tip. He hid his surprise when shackles clasped his ankles against the table, his legs spread wide. She grabbed one of his hands, kissed his the inside of his wrist, and snapped handcuffs on him. She repeated the process with his other hand, her kiss warm on his skin, almost gentle. When he tried to arch his back to accommodate the uncomfortable position, she secured clamps to the belt at his waist and held him firm. 
Her nipples teased the hair on his chest when she leaned over him and looked into his eyes. "Do you trust me?" 
"Yes, Mistress, I do." And he did. Maybe it was the way she looked at him from behind the mask, but he felt like he knew her, that she wasn't as anonymous as she'd like him to believe.  


Amazon UK

More about today's featured author...

Dakota Skye is an author fascinated by the paranormal. After having several personal "unexplained experiences" in her life, she started exploring the idea of the "other side." Ghosts, angels, Spirit Guides...what are they and do we interact with them more than we know? In her stories, she incorporates that fascination with fantasy while always focusing on the love. 

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Amazon UK


nook/Barnes & Noble

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Oh, the places I'll go if you tell me no. #amwriting #creativelive #creativity #life

"The author shouldn't have gone there."---a recent comment from a reader of mine about a controversial storyline. Hey, whatever. It's not your cup of tea, fine. I honestly don't care. I'm not one of those authors who obsesses over reviews. Love me or hate me, it's your prerogative. Seriously. But the term "shouldn't have gone there" resonated me for other reasons. I mean...who are you to tell me how far I should go? I will go where I choose in both life and work because I am first and foremost a creative person.

Even as a kid, I'd be the one who found out what the rules were so that I could break a few. If you tell me I can't do something, I will go out of my way to do it. Am I a brat? Probably. 

But because I push the boundaries, I live a nonconformist life. I don't work in a cubicle or keep 'normal' 9 to 5 hours. I take risks that sometimes end up as failures, but I never regret them because I can say I tried my best. 

Don't go there? I'm a writer, it's my job to go there. It's my job to delve into the darkness of the human heart and the shadowy parts of life to illuminate them in a way that makes people pay attention. I write romantic thrillers so some think that the word 'romance' means lighthearted glee. Well, not in my stories, although I do try to temper the drama with humor here and there--and a lot of sex. I mean, the characters need to blow off some steam after all that suspense, right? But I'm more than willing to push the boundaries of the genre. I explore the mind of stalkers, human traffickers, murderers, wounded Marines with PTSD, drug addiction, dangers of being locked up abroad where torture happens, witness protection, kidnappers, get the idea. I'm not afraid of the dark side of human nature. I definitely go there and I do so without apology. 

Here's what I say to people who keep trying to put limits on others: Stop trying to infringe your narrow world view on those who dare to put themselves on the line. This isn't just about writing, but in regards to all things. Simply because you're afraid to take a risk, doesn't mean that those who are out there risking it all are wrong. 

Each of us is different. We all have lives that have shaped our fears and dreams. When we start respecting those differences rather than criticizing them, that's when true magic happens. That's when we realize how fascinating we all are because of the various experiences we bring to the conversation. When we stop fearing and start accepting, we become better human beings who might learn something if we take the stick out of our asses long enough to sit down and listen. 

I admit that I've become intolerant of being censored--professionally, yes, but especially personally. Guess what? I go there all the time. If I have an opinion, I express it. But here's the thing...I welcome yours. I want you to go there, too. It makes you much more interesting in my eyes if you're not afraid to be your irreverent, sassy, kind-hearted, genuine, outrageous self. 

History is filled with individuals who broke a few rules, who busted free of the status-quo, who went boldly over those lines people like to cling to for their own safety, and who gave the finger to anyone who tried to hold them back. 

So as for the reader who thinks I went too far...and my personal critics who attempt to reign me in...I probably haven't gone far enough and, if given the chance, I'll blow your fucking mind with how far I'm willing to go. 

Go ahead...say it...tell me what I can't do...try to put a limit on my imagination or my potential...I dare you. 

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Love is Madness--"Be mad with me" IN BETWEEN #Romance #KindleUnlimited

Tingle Thursday travels to Italy for a peek into the Book One of Dancing Barefoot--IN BETWEEN, a contemporary romance drama about risking it all on a dream and on love.  
Two strangers become lovers and everything seems possible, but the weight of duty and obligations threaten to seal their Fate. Will love be enough? 
Exclusively on Amazon (for a limited time) 
Tingle worthy excerpt for the 18+ crowd...
"Tell me one thing about yourself that you're scared to admit. One thing."

She met his gaze in the reflection on the window and saw the dare in his eyes. Swallowing the doubt and shrugging off the thoughts of her mother, she faced him.
Life back in Boston equaled friends, a career, and dysfunctional relationships with her mother and with a certain man named Marc who had convinced everyone they were getting married when she returned from her self-indulgent trip to Italy. They weren't. The mere idea of it all squeezed the air from her chest and dampened the enjoyment of the moment.
"No one back home knows exactly where I am because I don't want them showing up here trying to take me back," she whispered without breaking eye contact. "They know I am in Florence, yes, but that is all. I don't want anyone from there ruining this for me."

He frowned but did not look away. "Why would people who love you want to ruin anything for you?"
She shook her head and looked away, hating that the perfect evening now had a crack in it.
"So you are really all mine while you're here, then?" Jacques kissed her hand, his breath warm on her flesh.
"As long as I turn off the phone and not post on Instagram, we should be good."
"Ah, that is why I avoid all of those things. My assistant—"
"You have an assistant?"
"Is that so surprising?"
"Yes, I thought you were a nomad, beholden to no one, answered only to yourself, too good for social media like the rest of us commoners and all of that." She liked teasing him and seeing surprise light his eyes. "How does he get in touch with you if you are so mysterious?"
"I get in touch with him when I am in the mood to listen to his lectures about my lack of technological savvy." He winked before reaching for his drink. "You are skilled at changing the subject away from yourself. I doubt anything you could say would make me want you less."
"Maybe it's less about what you may think and more about me wanting to disconnect for awhile. You can relate to that, can't you, Mr. Invisible from the World?"
"I suppose I can." He paid extraordinary attention to the liquor in the glass as he swirled it side to side.
"It must be liberating to go wherever you want in life, simply pick a place on the map and disappear." She liked looking at their reflection superimposed on the window. They looked good together. Her fingers ached to draw, to paint, to throw all of her emotions onto a canvas and capture all that filled her heart.
"Isn't that what you have done? You said no one knows about Luca or his apartment building...or me or Ava. You picked a place on a map and disappeared from your life, Jessica. We are not that different."
She closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest. Sudden panic of having all that she'd created here shatter merely by mentioning home.
"Let's go to our home and get naked," he whispered against her ear. "That is what we are both thinking, yes?"
She twisted in her seat and smiled up at him. "Yes, that's exactly what I want."
"I like a woman who knows and says what she wants, especially when she wants me." He winked before standing to hold the chair out for her. "I will drive fast. Let's go."
He sped back to Florence whose gleaming lights spread out beneath them as the motorcycle conquered the twists and turns of the hills. She rested her head on his back, wrapped her arms around his waist, and allowed the rhythmic hum of the bike's tires on the pavement lull her into a sense of calm.
Need pumped through her blood, not only for Jacques, but also for Italy to somehow set her free. She'd read all the self-help books, heard all the stories about being in control of her own decisions and her own life; but complications entangled her and bound her like a net holding down a struggling porpoise who slowly drowned beneath the waves.
Once at their apartment building, she practically ran up the stairs, already thinking of the many ways she wanted to make love with him.
Clothes came off once the door closed behind them until they were both skin on skin and mouth to mouth on the bed. Slower than last night, the kisses lingered and the caresses discovered. Her hands roamed the hardness of his back to the roundness of his ass and back again while their tongues danced together. Eyes wide open they looked at each other in the moonlight that played across their skin and over the bed.
"Tell me you didn't stay in Florence because of me," she whispered against his lips.
"I stayed because of you. I do what I want. I want this, here and now."
Tears blurred her vision because she'd secretly hoped he had chosen to stay for her, but hadn't dared believe. "You don't know me."
"I know you." He silenced the rest of her words with a kiss that curled her toes.
"I don't want to be a speed bump in your life."
"Let it be, Jess. Let us be whatever we become...or not. Let it be."
He slid himself slowly inside of her, slow enough where she felt each inch fill her before he eased out in a torturous rhythm that both savored sensation and teased satisfaction. He propped himself above her, hair falling across his eyes, and let his gaze move down her naked torso.
She moved her hands up his chest, linked her heels behind his thighs, and glanced down to where their bodies joined. Moonlight perfectly spotlighted his hips moving against hers. Pushing up on her elbows, she kissed his neck, his chest, and his face.
They fused together, slowly, having all the time in the world to indulge in one another. With each stroke of his hips against hers, she felt dread fall away to be replaced with the crescendo of rightness drumming in her heart.
She clung to his shoulders when he kissed her. Freedom to do and be whatever she needed to be...possibilities...set her blood on fire.
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 Read it now!