Friday, July 15, 2016

RELEASE DAY- INSATIABLE-STARMEN BOOK 1 +AO Excerpt




Sizzling Time Travel, M/M, M/M/M BDSM Erotic Romance.


It is 4300 and life on a distant planet as a Dom with an endless supply of delicious hot and oh so willing subs is a dream come true for Deon Winchester, especially as his enhancements have made him insatiable.
Oh yeah, he can last all night and performing in front of a few exclusive and well-paying patrons is a big turn-on, but Deon craves the love of a boy of his own. Problem is—his contract forbids any form of a relationship. He wants out and must convince his friend, Arjun, to escape with him.
If they succeed, will the BDSM scene on Earth be ready for two insatiable edge playing Doms from the future?

 Excerpt: 

Tye tipped his head back, and his face held an expression of bliss. His full mouth opened slightly, and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips. Deon sat on the side of the bed and slowly caressed his thighs. He slid his hands around his buttocks, spreading him and sinking his fingers deep into the soft flesh. “Do you like it rough, Tye?”
“Oh yes, Apollo … yes.”
This one would enjoy spanking. He lifted him across his knees. Tye’s hard nipples pressed against his thigh, and his silky hair brushed his legs. Inhaling his rich, masculine scent, Deon pushed his mind into the character of Apollo. He needed to provide the ultimate experience in the hope that Jamil would give him more assignments like this one. He ran his hand over Tye’s back in a long, sensual caress and cupped his muscular bottom again. He squeezed. He had such smooth skin, unmarked and the color of alabaster. The Commissioner’s son had never received discipline.
Deon stroked him from knee to thigh then took his time exploring the cleft of his ass. He used one finger to probe his tight hole, finding him stretched and ready for fucking. Interesting. Have you just removed a butt plug? Never mind, I will stretch you more than ever before. Tye moaned under his touch, and his pale skin pebbled into goose flesh. He pressed his fingers into the muscles of the man’s thighs. “You are a very bad boy to seek a droid lover. You should have a boyfriend to please you. I think I should punish you.”
“Yes, I’ve been bad.” Tye lifted his hips. “Punish me, Apollo.”
“Oh, I’ll punish you, pup.” Deon chuckled. “Then I’m going to fuck you… You do want me to fuck your tight ass, don’t you?”
“Please…”
He spanked him along each thigh, lingering on the sweet spot where the buttocks met the leg. Alternating harsh slaps with slow, soothing strokes of his hand. The loud smacks echoed around the room, punctuated by Tye’s shrieks of delight. By the time he moved to his bottom, he was writhing in ecstasy. Handprints covered his flesh, and his skin glowed like a ripe peach. He reached for a tube of lube and applied a generous amount to his tight hole. Sliding his fingers inside, he finger fucked him slowly until Tye trembled against his knees.
Deon groaned. Tye’s scent filled his nostrils, and his cock pressed hard into his belly. His temperature rose, sweat coated his body. I must find release. Deon dipped his fingers into his hot ass and found his pleasure spot. He caressed the grape, and the boy jerked and cried out. He removed his finger. “Do you want me to stop? No? I think you enjoy punishment.” He jammed his thumb into his ass.
“You take me so close to climax and yet deny me release.” Tye lifted his head. “Fuck me, Apollo, fuck me now.”




https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/insatiable-71

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/insatiable-hc-brown/1124103893?ean=2940156912964

Thursday, July 7, 2016

My day, H.C. Brown





A lot of people ask me how I keep track of multiple genre WIP at one time. I use a whiteboard. I've used all sorts of organizers, notebooks, post it notes, programs etc. etc to keep track of ideas, odd scenes, characters names etc. All of them meant loosing my train of thought and leaving the manuscript to look up whatever I needed. As I work on different projects at the same time, I need a memory jog mid sentence sometimes. Going old school and using a whiteboard, works so well. At a glance I get the information/ research, color of someone's eyes etc in a second. It really makes my life easier.

Two new releases on the horizon:

15 July: Insatiable, M/M BDSM

20 September :Master Luke, One Night in a Dungeon Anthology.

Hugs, HC
http://www.hcbrown-author.com

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

RELEASE DAY! HARD TRUTH-FLOGGERS 3



M/M  erotic BDSM romance...no girls :-)
Brad Morrison wants a man, in him, over him, dominating him.
But having a gay son wasn’t in his father’s vocabulary and to please him, Brad marries Jane.   They agree to live separate lives but the moment Jane tries to involve him in a ménage, he ends the marriage.
 He needs to come out but informing his father won’t be easy.
Turning to his best friend, Jett, for advice, he discovers the man he has drooled over for years is interested in him not only as a lover but as a sub.
With his homophobic father on the rampage, and  an ex-sub waiting to take his place, will Brad’s fragile and oh, so hot relationship with Jett survive?




Excerpt:
The moment Brad walked from the lawyer’s office, a great burden lifted from his shoulders. He had lived a lie, played a part to please his father and denied his sexuality. He wanted more, a true relationship with a man and someone to explore the kinkier side of his nature. Deep inside, he craved domination and a man of his own. Living under his father’s thumb was over. He’d come out, recognized his true self, and wanted to wallow in the joy of personal freedom. Hell yeah, he’d had a tasty “experiment” but now craved a Dom, a man, he could trust with his total submission.
He turned into the hall and grinned at the sight of Jett Silver waiting by the elevator. He’d developed a close friendship with Jett over the past year. His friend had a brooding quality, a take charge, in your face, don’t fuck with me, persona and he craved to be under a flogger wielded by him, or licking a wet path up his tight leather pants. Oh, man, if only you were a Dom.
Jett sure resembled a Dom, especially with the black leather armbands he wore exercising. He worked in a building across the road, as some high-flying agent for rock bands. He’d met him at the local sports club, and the sexual God had approached him seeking someone to spot him on the weights. Since then they’d worked out together, hitting the weights four times a week. Oh boy, he loved how this man ordered him around in the gym. He’d wondered about Jett’s sexuality, but his friend had made no sexual moves in his direction. Surely Jett couldn’t have failed to notice his attraction toward him? Fuck, the moment, Jett bent over him to support the bar, Brad’s shorts had done nothing to hide his arousal.
He bit back a chuckle. Spotting Jett on the weights had become an enjoyable pastime. Man, he had to stop himself drooling over the delicious slide of taut muscles under his damp, tanned skin. He wanted to sink his fingers into the sheet of ebony liquid silk brushing the man’s broad shoulders. The handsome man had become an obsession—too bad if the guy was straight.
He wet his lips and his gaze feasted on his friend’s hard muscular body. His attention went to Jett’s amazing green eyes, shaded by long ebony lashes. His friend’s soulful expression sent heat straight to his balls. So yeah, saying he lusted after the hunk was an understatement.
He dropped his gaze, relieved when the metallic doors slid open.
“You look happy. Did you buy another company?” Jett followed him inside the elevator.
Brad shrugged. “Nah, I’ve just divorced my wife.”
“Jane? Wow! You’ve kept that information a secret from me. What happened? She’s a real doll. Couldn’t you keep it in your pants?”
Brad’s eyes narrowed. “Me? No, I’m the faithful kind. Unfortunately, my time with her is a long, painful story.”
“Well, as you’re free from her clutches now, how about joining me to celebrate? We could go for dinner and have a few drinks. I’m a very good listener, and you look like you need to get this off your chest.” Jett slapped him on the back.
Brad ran both hands through his unruly curls. “Yeah, why not. If I stay home, my father will be on the phone chewing my ear all night. When I told him I intended divorcing Jane, he went ballistic and threatened to disinherit me.” He sighed. “A meal will be good because I’ve not eaten very well for months with all this hassle.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit depressed of late, but I didn’t want to intrude.” Jett smiled. “You could’ve come to me. We are friends, and I am a great sounding board. I’m not the type to spread your private business all over town. You shouldn’t have tried to cope with a bad divorce on your own—that’s what friends are for.”
Oh Lord, Brad wanted to sink into the man’s arms, seek comfort from his strength and inhale his warm musky scent. He swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to lose your friendship by burdening you with my problems. I like what we have, I’m myself with you.”
A flicker of awareness caressed Jett’s gaze. His full delicious mouth curled into a smile. “You won’t lose my friendship. Divorcing your wife will make us closer, I guarantee it.”
A wave of relief spilled over Brad. He squeezed Jett’s muscular arm and smiled. “Thanks, I know I can trust you. Stupid pride got the better of me I guess. How about meeting me at the steak house on Third about eight?”
“That sounds good.” Jett rubbed his chin. “He couldn’t, could he? Disinherit you, I mean.”
Brad shrugged. “He might break the partnership if he bought me out, but I don’t want his money. What I do need is a father. He’s not getting any younger, and all this stress is more than he needs right now after the bypass surgery.”
The elevator doors opened with a swish and Brad followed Jett down the dark, tiled corridor and out the large, glass doors into the summer heat. He paused on the sidewalk and drew a deep breath. “So this is what freedom feels like. This past year has been a nightmare—well apart from meeting you.”
“Well, I for one, can’t wait to hear all the gory details.” Jett grinned. “I’ll see you later.” He turned on his heel, and with a wave headed toward the large glass building holding his office.
Brad watched him walk away. The enticing scent of Jett’s aftershave still lingered in the air, a much more delightful scent than the overbearing perfume Jane wore. His attention lingered on Jett’s ass until he disappeared into the building’s lobby. He shook his head to dislodge the image and strode to his glossy black Italian sports car. He unlocked the driver’s door, and sank into the low leather seat then turned the key and the car purred into life. He moved into the line of traffic then turned onto the expressway, heading toward home. The air conditioner blew refreshing cold air onto his heated skin. He took a deep breath and sighed. Would he lose Jett’s friendship and his father’s respect, if they knew the real reason for his divorce?

Buy Links:

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hardtruth-2061127-147.html





Sunday, May 22, 2016

Release Day!!! Floggers' Slave Auction +AO excerpt and links


H.C. Brown's Floggers series is an edgeplaying down and dirty series. The stories are sizzling and push the boundaries. Come into my dungeon if you dare .... Master Nash Mage.







Blurb:
Paul Martin’s fantasy to lose his virginity in public to a Dom becomes a reality when he decides to enter a slave auction at Floggers BDSM Club.
His nerve crashes to subzero when the highest bidder is the feared edge playing Dom, Nash Mage.
Nash bitter from a breakup with his mindfucking sub is looking for down and dirty sex and a pup to control. He doesn’t expect his auction prize and vanilla virgin, Paul, to earn his respect and melt his frozen heart.




Excerpt :

“Please, Master.” Sweat dripped off the house sub’s chin. “Ride me to hell.”

Nash Mage gazed down at the glowing, red marks on the sub’s naked body and lifted the flogger. He brought the customized leather down in artful, even blows. How he enjoyed watching a sub squirm under his touch. He groaned. So much soft, white flesh, striped red from the thin, leather straps made him hot as hell.

Damn, he loved the sharp intake of breath the sub gave with each, satisfying thwack. The raised welts were hot against his palm; he fought the desire to lick a soothing path along each stinging cut. Blood rushed into his heavy cock, pressing it hard against his tight, leather pants. He ground his teeth and stood back to admire his work.

“Please… Fuck me, Master.” The sub lifted his glossy ass in invitation, straining against the rope tying him securely to the bench.

With a snort, he turned to the table and selected a candle. He hated nothing more than a sub who begged. A sub should keep his damn mouth shut! No way would he give the annoying little wimp the pleasure of his expert fucking. He pulled his cigarette lighter from the tight, front pocket of his pants, flipped open the top, and lit the candle. He inhaled; the smell of hot wax aroused and soothed him. After allowing the melted wax to pool around the wick, he flicked his hand to send a shower of hot wax across the sub’s red striped bottom. He chuckled and set the candle in a holder that angled over the man.

He stood back to admire his handiwork. The candle flame hovered just above the subs balls, hot wax dripping closer with each second. Without hesitation, Nash turned on his heel and left the room. He ran both hands through his long hair, the thought of offering a cool down cuddle abhorrent to him. He had turned into an asshole and didn’t give a fuck. Why the hell did I decide to pick that particular house sub? The boy was not pretty, was well used, and not nearly submissive enough. No, he required complete surrender and the true lick-my-boots-and-ass devotion only an innocent could provide. Now he had a hard-on that only a sweet, submissive mouth would relieve. At this point in time, no one came close to fitting his requirements. He walked into the bar and scanned the room. He pointed to a house sub. “Go into my dungeon and untie the asshole.”

* * *

Later that morning, Nash leaned casually against the wrought iron railing beside the entrance to The Floggers’ Club. With rising disgust, he watched the retreating back of the disgruntled sub. His hand ached from the punishment he’d inflicted. He clenched and unclenched his fingers then stared at the indentation from the flogger handle across the palm. Damn, he would have to remember to wear his gloves next time. He lifted his chin and gazed at the sub limping away in the distance. He’d offered the sub no cool down—nothing—and broken every damn rule in the book. What is wrong with me?

Lately, no one could keep his interest. He missed Damien. Fuck, his boy had left him cold, no note, and no fucking reason. Nash sucked in a freezing breath. He needed new blood. One with trusting eyes and that smooth, porcelain skin that deserved to carry his marks. Steam billowed from the drains in the gutter, in spasmodic, white clouds. It would be a white Christmas this year. The weather bureau forecast snow for the entire holidays. Nash took the toothpick from his mouth and flicked it into the road. Fuck, he needed a cigarette. Just one drag would soothe the craziness. I am losing it big time. Hell, he usually had pride in his self-control. He snorted and turned to his friend. “His nose is out of joint because I didn’t want to fuck the weasel.” He rubbed his hands together. “I hate it when they start making demands. If I’d had a smoke, I’d have ground it out on his balls.”

“Giving up smoking is a bitch.” Roger Connell pushed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He stared after the sub and grimaced. “And that bitch will be telling everyone you’re an edge player.”

With a shrug, Nash stared at the gray piles of snow banked up at the curb. He lifted his chin, met Roger’s hazel eyes, and smiled. “I beat the crap out of the little do-me queen. Bitch thought he could Dominate me—fat chance.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe I am taking it to the edge. I’m looking for the same thrill I got from Damien. What I need is a sweet sub who appreciates my skills.” He sighed. “I gave that whining bastard what he asked for and more, but no way was I going to fuck him.”

“It was consensual. That house sub wasn’t an innocent and he should have expected a good flogging with your reputation.” Roger slapped him on the back. “It’s freezing out here. Come downstairs, and I’ll buy you a drink.”

At the bottom of the steps, the comforting scent of wax and leather, laced with the enticing aroma of musky, male sweat, wafted over him. The owner of the club, Lance Booker, met them at the VIP section of the polished mahogany bar. Nash shrugged out of his long, leather coat and threw it to a house sub. He met Lance’s disgruntled gaze. “I’m not banned again, am I? Not when Roger has just returned from overseas—we have some serious ass to claim.”

“Four house subs have fled in a week, Nash. At this rate, we’ll need to put ads in the newspapers for replacements.” Lance balled his fists on his hips. “I think it’s time you put a collar on your own sub.”

Nash took a toothpick from a jar on the bar and pushed it between his lips. He straightened his shoulders and glared at Lance. “Fuck, that’s worse than getting married. I’ll flog and fuck who I choose when I choose.”

“Sure,” Lance growled, turned, and strode away. Two seconds later, he was back in his face glaring at him. “But keep your hands off the subs for the auction.”

With a grin, Nash met his gaze. Lance intimidated most members of Floggers but not him or Roger. “I hope you’ve got some pretty boys this year.” He grimaced. “I’m getting bored with the ugly asses around here.”

“I put a notice up in Handcuffs and Whips two weeks ago.” Lance gave him a slow smile. “I’m looking for a new sub too. There’s a group giving us the once over tonight.” He turned to go. “Try not to spoil Christmas again this year.”

With a sigh, Nash removed the toothpick and stabbed it into the ashtray. He reached for the bottle of bourbon on the bar and poured himself a drink. He threw it back and poured another. Yeah, yeah rave on. He turned to speak to Roger. His friend was staring at a delicious sub, who was dancing slowly, obviously lost in a world of his own. He nudged his friend. “Nice but unobtainable.”

“I’m working on it.” Roger turned back to the bar. “Fresh meat at two o’clock.”

He ran his gaze over the group of four men removing their coats in the foyer. Three were definitely subs—cropped hair and wearing plenty of metal. The group moved into the bar and paused as if undecided where to go. He moved his attention over the fourth man—young, barely legal, with a slight build—just the way he liked his subs. Brown hair with gold highlights curled around a cherubic face. A long, gold earring hung from one ear. Damn, the man had big, brown eyes and long, “dominate me” lashes. Nash whistled. “It must be Christmas. My sac’s full, and I just found Santa’s little helper.”

Turning around, Nash leaned his elbows on the bar to get a better view. The group moved to a table beside the dance floor. The sweet sub wore jeans low on his hips. He snorted. To wear jeans in Floggers was almost heresy. Two buttons undone at the fly showed the top of the man’s white boxers and a flat, smooth, hairless stomach. Nice. “The young one is mine.”

The boy’s black leather vest hung open to display an expanse of honey skin pulled tight over muscle. As the newcomer moved, he caught sight of his delicious, flat, biteable nipples. He groaned and his cock ached. I’ll fuck you ’til you scream. Dear Lord, the boy had that smooth, silken, tanned skin that drove him crazy. He wore no metal, no rings, nothing but the gold sparkling in his ear. The sub glanced around furtively keeping his long lashes at half-mast. An innocent. His mouth watered. “I think I just blew in my fucking pants.”

“Oh, that’s a sweet sub.” Roger laughed. “You’ll break him in half.”

With a snort, Nash pushed away from the bar and stared intently at the young man across the room. “That’s the idea.”




Saturday, April 23, 2016

H.C. Brown's Sizzling Release -Time to Love-Except + links

Jay Bannock is living a lie.
Sure, he likes women. In fact, he respects women but when he tries to kiss one and she does that tongue thing, he wants to spew.Confused by his growing attraction to men, Jay seeks help from the only gay club he knows—Floggers BDSM Club.
Has he lost his mind?
Realization, he has been batting for the wrong team all his life comes in the form of a six-foot-seven Adonis by the name of Matt Duffey.
Instantly attracted to the leather-clad Adonis, Jay’s complicated life spins out of control on a roller coaster ride wrapped in Matt’s arms.



Excerpt
Lance Booker took in the man standing in the foyer of Floggers BDSM Club. He valued his ability to pick a sub or Dom at a glance, but this delectable guy’s BDSM predilection eluded him. To his experienced eye, he saw a confused man, albeit, a buff six-two, blond hunk of steel. Man, you are pretty. He plastered a warm smile on his face, strolled nonchalantly toward him, and extended his hand. “Lance Booker … how can I help you?”
“Jay Bannock.” He shook his hand with a look of chagrin. “I feel really stupid coming here.” He dragged in a long breath and his cheeks flushed bright red. “To be completely honest, I need to talk to someone gay and the Floggers’ website does say you’re looking for members. I thought you might be able to advise me.” He met Lance’s gaze. “Do you have a few minutes to spare?”
Bemused, Lance held his hand to check his reaction toward him, raised one brow, and eyed him critically. This guy didn’t look like he needed help and he sure didn’t have the confidence of a Dom or the submissive attitude he’d expect from a sub in his presence. He cleared his throat. “You’re not selling stuff are you?”
“Lord, no.” Jay gave a nervous laugh. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know any homosexual men and this being a gay club … well, I … I’m looking for some answers.” He shrugged and squeezed Lance’s hand. “I guess you think I’m crazy walking into a gay BDSM club looking for help, but I need to talk over something that’s bothering me, and I don’t think I’ll get what I need from a doctor or a shrink.”
After that confession, Lance held onto the man’s hand a little longer than necessary and rubbed his thumb over the back. Apart from the softening in Jay’s dark blue eyes, he made no effort to pull away and seemed to relax a little. Interesting. He inclined his head. “Sure, I always have time to speak to a new boy. Why don’t you come into my office? It’s more private in here for a chat.” He opened the door and ushered Jay inside. “I’ve just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
Placing two steaming cups on the long maple desk, Lance waved him into a seat. He rested his hip on the edge of the desk and gazed down at him, taking a Dominant position to check his reaction. When Jay dropped his gaze under Lance’s frank appraisal, he bit back a smile. Good sub material, strong but craves Domination. He had the guts to come in here, yeah a valuable quality in a sub. Sipping his coffee, he examined the cute guy. Nice skin. Jay had remarkably handsome features, high cheekbones, full lips, and those big, innocent, blue eyes that made him instantly hard. “So are you interested in BDSM?”
“I think I might be … yeah.” Jay lifted his chin and frowned. “That’s part of why I’m here.”
Lance leaned closer. Hmm, he smelled good too, clean with a hint of male musk. “So what’s the other part? Do you need to know what it costs to join a club like Floggers? The tests you need and the rules?”
“Yes, I’ll need all that but first”—Jay’s cheeks blushed again—“look, I’ll come straight to the point. How did you first discover you were gay?”
Fuck! “Well, the fact I prefer to have sex with men kind of tipped me off.” Lance ran a hand through his hair and stared at him with incredulity. This person had walked into Floggers and wasn’t sure if he was gay? What the fuck? He took a sip of his coffee. He would have to pull back and be gentle with him. “I have never had the slightest interest in women sexually. I’m also a Dom and like to dominate men sexually. I like to be on top and in charge all the time.”
“Were you always like … gay … or did you have a sexual experience with a man and liked it?” Jay reached for his coffee. “I’m so fucking confused. You see, although I appreciate a man’s body—a lot. I’ve never thought about one as a lover. Over the years, I’ve tried to date girls—women—but as soon as … you know… I can’t get it up. In fact, it never gets that far because I can’t even kiss them.”
Lance’s mind reeled. He’d picked Jay as gay the moment he set eyes on him. “I’ve always known I’m gay. I’ve never had any doubt. Are you suddenly attracted to men or did this come about because of a sexual encounter as you put it?”
A pained expression crossed Jay’s handsome face. “No!—The other night I tried to kiss a girlfriend—because she insisted and when I backed off, she kind of lost it. Fuck, she screamed at me and said I acted like a gay man … that I wasn’t normal.” Jay looked at Lance over the top of his cup. “The whole scene was pretty ugly.”
Lance scratched his cheek and stared down at him in complete amazement. “So why on earth do you hang out with women if you don’t find them attractive?”
“Fucked if I know—I guess in my mind, I thought I might eventually find one that actually attracted me.” Jay shrugged. “Rose … well, she was a good friend. I liked her company but she wanted more.”
Lance inclined his head. He needed more information. “Tell me about Rose, did she have big tits, nice ass and what made her a possibility in your eyes?”
“No, she is the opposite.” Jay sipped his drink. “Tall, muscular, slim and she didn’t have much in the way of tits to be honest. She liked to exercise.” He swallowed. “I met her in the gym and we worked out together.”
Very interesting. I see and what do you appreciate in a man?”
“I like the way a man smells, and … I dunno … muscles wet with sweat, a nice body.” Jay drained his coffee and set the cup down. “I like eyes too, some men’s eyes have a kindness I find attractive.”
You don’t say. “It’s a drastic step going from an argument with your girlfriend to fronting at a gay BDSM club. What the hell did the woman say to you?” Lance rubbed the back of his neck.
Jay’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear the boring details, but a lot of what she said rang true because I do appreciate the male form, like I said. Although, I believe I’ve been fooling myself about the reason why I find men attractive. So I bit the bullet, as they say, and rented some gay pornos including a BDSM one … nothing too extreme.” He ran a finger around the top of his cup and drew a deep breath. “Watching them turned me on big time, seeing two guys. You know it kind of felt right.” He leaned back in his chair. “Like I said before I don’t know any homosexual men so I don’t have anyone I can talk to about this. I think I might be gay, and I’m not sure what to do. How do I know for sure if I’m really gay?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “From what I’ve told you it’s obvious, isn’t it? I just can’t admit it to myself.”
You think, huh. “There’s no halfway here, Jay. You’re gay, or you’re not.” Lance stood and moved closer to him. Standing legs either side of him and leaning toward him, he cupped Jay’s cheek and stared into his eyes. “From what you have told me, and how you react to me, I think it’s obvious.” He snorted. “You’re sure sending out all the right signals.”
“Signals?”
Lance ran the pad of his thumb over Jay’s full bottom lip. “Uh-huh, a straight guy wouldn’t allow me to touch him like this.” He sighed at Jay’s wide-eyed expression of astonishment laced with a hint of fear. He needed to pull back a little and not frighten him. “Look, this was just a test to see if you’re gay. I didn’t mean to alarm you and I have a boy I’m attached to, so as much as I’d like to pursue this with you, I think I should introduce you to a Dom around your own age.”
“Don’t you think that’s kinda jumping in with both feet?” Jay frowned. “What if I’m wrong? The thought of being tied up and whipped… I’m not sure I could do something like that with a stranger.”
Lance headed for the door. “You should follow your instincts. No one here will ever push you into anything you don’t want to do, but I think you may need a little shove in the right direction. Floggers can open up a world of pleasure you didn’t know existed.” He grinned. “It’s time to love my friend.”
Buy links:



Also on iTunes and Google Play :-)

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Welcome Diane Demetre


It's great to have you here today.
I'm sure my readers are dying to discover all about you and the second book in the Dance of Love Series Tiny Dancer.
Take it away Diane :-)


Born to Dance… Dying to Love

At twenty-four, Samantha O’Brien scores her dream job as a dancer at the famous Moulin Rouge, only to arrive in Paris to find her well-laid plans in disarray. Fortuitously, Sam is rescued by the eccentric, tarot-card reading proprietress of Hotel Hollandaise, who cautions that Paris is for lovers, but not always love.
As Sam launches into her new career, the show’s super sexy, Sicilian stage director, Tony Di Falco reveals he is more than just a creative genius and hard taskmaster, leaving Sam to wonder whether secrets, specifically her own, are indeed best shared.
Meeting Philippe Lacroix, a struggling, young artist in Montmartre saves Sam from imploding under the pressure. He introduces her to the city of love, captivating her with his angelic good looks and sensuous touch. Yet the mounting attraction intensifies between Samantha and her passionate nemesis Tony, and a tense, sexually-charged relationship threatens to overwhelm them both. But the show must go on.

Filled with backstage bitchiness, tough rehearsals, a sprinkling of cocaine and the French addiction to cigarettes, Samantha grapples with her new life. Then without warning, Sam’s destiny changes literally before her eyes and she finally discovers that even in the most romantic city of the world, you don’t find love, love finds you.



Being a passionate woman who’s always done things a little differently, Diane spends her time living, loving and appreciating life. She began her professional journey as a school teacher before moving into an exhilarating career as a dancer, choreographer and director. A rebel with a cause, Diane followed her quest for truth into the field of self-development, where as a stress & life skills therapist, life coach and keynote speaker, she taught methodologies of self-empowerment and conscious living. Assuming the pseudonym of the Goddess of Love, she appeared on national radio and the television program Beauty & the Beast.
Now as an author, Diane writes sensual love stories with a twist. Laced with dance and the divine feminine, her works feature empowered heroines who live life to the fullest, much like the author herself. Her debut novel, Dancing Queen was voted Luminosity Publishing Reader’s Choice Best Book and Best Cover 2015. Connect with Diane www.dianedemetre.com




Buy Links:



Saturday, March 19, 2016

Slave of the Beast- Links and Excerpt

Slave of the Beast by H.C. Brown - 

Born into slavery, Lucas’s life changes dramatically when his master sells him to a werewolf alpha who intends to sacrifice him in a sexual ritual on the full moon. His only hope of survival is by placing his faith in Bolton, a wolf shifter, and the sworn enemy of his new master.

Full-length Gay Paranormal Romance Novel – 69,660 words
 

Khorish City

After rising before sunrise to clean the rooms of his master’s young son from top to bottom, Lucas made his way down the white marble stairs of the palace toward the kitchen. His heart pounded in anticipation of another secret meeting with Bolton, a handsome free man who had befriended him some months previously. Born into slavery and property of his master, the laws of Khorish City prevented him from befriending anyone, but his love for Bolton made him reckless. His friend had insisted he remain a virgin until his majority but he craved his kisses and their stolen moments together. If caught the penalty would be death or if lucky, he would be condemned to spend his remaining years working in the mines.

He collected the basket and credits from the cook, listening intently to the list of requirements needed from the market. Wishing he could write down the list rather than commit it to memory, he headed for the door. Gods only knew what penalty he would incur if his master discovered he could not only read, but had mastered several languages. He had a mind for figures and had the ability to keep the books for the financial running of the entire palace.

Slipping out of the gate adjacent to the kitchen garden, he checked behind him to ensure no one followed. Of late, he had become more cautious. The law decreed, at eighteen summers, he would become a man and to displease his master again so close to his majority would be disastrous. The thought worried him, because his master loved to make a profit and had already found an excuse to sell him on his birthday. He might be fortunate and a new master may purchase him as a house slave but he doubted he would have such luck. Being slim with long, blond curls made him valuable for sale to the slave masters who ran the brothels. He heaved a sigh. Worse of all, if he ended up in a pleasure slave auction, the only hope of ever seeing Bolton again would be if he paid to visit him for sex at a brothel. I so wanted Bolton to be my first lover.

Pushing the thought of being a sex slave for endless nameless men, he recited the list of items he required and headed toward the market square. He enjoyed his brief bouts of freedom and this day may well be his last. As a kitchen slave, his master allowed him one hour each day away from the palace to purchase fresh produce. One hour each day to walk as a free man and do as he pleased. Once he reached the narrow streets, he took one quick glance behind him then broke into a run. Every precious second counted toward his forbidden time with the love of his heart, Bolton.


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