Andie Devaux's Blog, page 6
October 5, 2014
Long Term Deal
*ADULTS ONLY*
Faith could barely breathe around the pain for days. Because Lawrence hadn’t stopped her from walking away. Because Lawrence hadn’t called her after.
Because Lawrence didn’t care.
Somehow, she’d fallen for a man who didn’t love her back.
If her mother had still been with her, she would have told her to keep her chin up. To remember she was strong enough to deal with this. And if her brother had been there—her adorable, sweet baby brother—he would have hugged her and then convinced her to play video games with him.
And with their love, it would have been almost okay.
At least, she might have been able to breathe around the wretched pain in her chest.
But they weren’t there. For the whole of the first day, there was no one save her goldfish, Puff, and he wasn’t even huggable. Then someone had come to her door. Knocking and finally shouting until Faith answered, if only to keep the neighbors from calling the police.
Tara.
Her friend had been a comfort. Not like her mom. Not like her baby brother. Different, but still pretty darn wonderful. And talking Tara out of marching into Lawrence’s office and confessing had at least given her a distraction.
The momentary reprieve, followed by the intense pain the second she allowed herself to slip back into thinking of him after Tara was out the door, decided it for her. She couldn’t let herself wallow.
Dressed in her normal business attire—because, for some reason it made her feel better, stronger—she was on the phone to Tara the first thing the next morning.
“What’s up, hon?” Tara asked, not bothering with a hello.
She’d called the business line, counting on Tara to pick up. This was a business call, after all. “I would like to speak to Mr. Black, please.”
“Are you sure?” Tara asked, her voice full of concern.
Whatever Tara was worried about, Faith couldn’t add it to her list of distractions right now. She had to do this while she was still strong enough to get through the call.
“Yes.”
A hesitation on the other end of the line. “One moment, please.”
The line clicked, then after a few seconds, it rang once.
“Faith,” Black answered. “Are you all right?”
Unlike Lawrence’s, Black’s number appeared on her caller ID the first day of work she’d missed. A call she hadn’t answered. A voicemail she hadn’t yet been strong enough to listen to.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Her voice caught, and she swallowed hard. Black didn’t call her on the lie. “I am calling to request a recommendation.”
This time the silence was longer. “A recommendation.”
“Yes. I’m afraid I won’t be returning—” Her voice warbled and she swallowed a gulp of her coffee and forced a breath before continuing. But her professional veneer was wiped from the brief conversation, and she couldn’t bring it back. “I need a job, David. I know I didn’t give notice, but—”
“Of course I’ll give you a recommendation. This whole thing is just—” A heavy sigh. “You’ll have it by this afternoon. And I’ll make inquiries.”
“I’d appreciate that. Really.”
“And if you want to talk—“
“Thank you. You’ll be the first to know.” Another lie, and they both knew it. But again, gentleman that he was, Black pretended she told the truth.
Why couldn’t she fall for a man like Black—or heck, forget the “man like” part altogether. It was obvious that Black had feelings for her. He might not be in love with her, but he cared. And she cared about him, too. It would be nice to have a man in her life who actually gave a damn. One who wasn’t so terribly complicated. It would be the easier choice.
But it wasn’t enough.
October 1, 2014
Broken Prime #NewRelease #Paranormal #Free
Hi all! I have a new release this week, and for a very short period of time, I’m offering it for free on Amazon. This is a short story set in the same world as Claiming Their Royal Mate. It’s a short story, but it’s super hot, and (I think) pretty fun. I hope you’ll check it out!
Broken PrimeIn The Series Royals Genres: Erotic Romance, Erotica, New Adult, Paranormal AmazonWhen Evie loses her way in the woods during a terrible storm, she is determined not to die. But snow and darkness close in and all seems lost—until a stranger finds her. Warm and safe at his cabin, she can’t help notice how sexy her rescuer is, and things go from warm to scorching hot.
But Nicolas lives alone on the mountain for a reason. And his secrets may be more dangerous to Evie than the cold.
Broken Prime is a 7,600-word short story, and a prequel to a longer tale featuring Evie and Nicolas. The story contains erotic situations and is intended for mature readers.
For those of you waiting for other books of mine (I’m sorry I’m slow!), Office Party: Part Five is headed to the editor tonight, and Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part Two is being drafted, and I hope to have that released before mid-month. I apologize for getting a little behind, but I think the stories will be worth the short wait.
Broken Prime
*ADULTS ONLY*
Evie Lane refused to die at twenty-one.
Panic pushed her pace to a jog, but though the whited-out landscape flew by faster, nothing looked familiar. Snow continued to fall, and she cursed loudly, blinking back tears that threatened to burn their way down her cheeks.
So stupid to tell the others to go ahead on their snowshoe trek. The sun had been out, the cabin smoke clearly visible in the sky, and she hadn’t realized there was zero cell service to be found. If she’d done what she’d said, taken a few pictures and caught up with her friends a little ways down the trail, things would have been fine. But she’d gotten distracted. Found a few shots she couldn’t resist. Decided to wait a little longer until the sun was perfect in the sky, providing just the right angle to the light.
And then the sun disappeared.
The storm rolled in so quickly, she’d barely noticed the first cloud on the horizon before the entire sky blotted out. She’d trudged on, even as snow started to fall, in the same direction the other girls had gone. When it got too dark to really see where she was going, she’d relied on their trail in the snow. Then the fresh snow piled high so fast that the trail disappeared, and she wasn’t even sure she was headed the right direction.
She forced a deep breath, then shivered violently. The air was cold, and her feet colder. She’d lost a glove at some point when she was still taking pictures, and her pocket didn’t seem to do much to keep out the chill.
Exhaustion seeped into her as she slowed to a walk.
“Help!” she yelled—or tried to. Her voice was wispy and thin after hours of calling out for her friends.
She crumpled in front of a tree and leaned against the solid wood, putting her face between her knees.
So tired.
The angry howl of the wind around her seemed to insulate her from the world, and for a while, time stood still. Regret filled her. She should have listened to her parents, gone with them to Europe. Might have been stressful, watching them try not to fight in front of her the whole time, but it would have been safe. Heck, she could have stayed at the dorm, used her break to study.
She’d wanted an adventure.
“Hey. Hey?”
Someone shook her, dragging her back into reality. She opened her eyes. The area around her was almost as dark as the one behind her eyelids. But she could make out a form, large and human-shaped, kneeling in front of her.
“I’m going to pick you up. Take you somewhere warm.”
Her mind moved slowly, and it took a few moments before she comprehended his words. But before she could nod in reply, the man had swept her into his arms and was moving. And either her perception was really messed up because of the cold and her freezing state, or the man moved fast.
Even with the wind blowing hard around them, with her face buried against his jacket, she could smell him. Masculine and wild, he smelled like the forest before the snow. His jacket was too light for the weather, but he didn’t seem to have been caught unaware like she had. He strode with confidence, never pausing to find his way.
Minutes later, they arrived. The thud of the door shutting behind them roused her from her half-stupor, and delicious heat stung her nose.
The man brought her close to the source, holding her while she warmed. He pulled her camera off her neck, tugged her boots from her feet and rubbed them, then did the same with her hands. Gradually, the world came back into focus.
The only source of light seemed to be the wood stove that burned somberly, but it was clear he’d brought her to a cabin even tinier than the one she’d rented with her girlfriends for their winter break from college. Theirs was made to look rustic. This one really was rustic, if the low lighting was anything to judge it by.
But the heat was welcome, as was the rescue. She squirmed a bit in her rescuer’s arms, but he continued to rub her feet, his motions slow and smooth, his big hands soothing the cold away.
“How do you feel?” he asked, his delicious baritone rolling over her in a way that made her shiver again, but not from the cold. The snow and wind had obviously addled her brain, because no way was she getting a little turned on from the guy’s voice alone. Especially not in her current state. Some kind of weird effect from the shock of it all.
Wordlessly, he helped her to her feet.
“I’m fine, thanks to you.” To her surprise, her voice came out strong, if a bit raspy from yelling so much earlier. She flexed her fingers, and wiggled her toes. “Seem to still have all my limbs.”
The man pulled off his hat and the mask he’d worn to protect his face from the cold. “Luckily for you, it’s warm tonight.”
Words escaped her for a moment, as she took in the man who’d saved her. His size had been apparent, even in her frozen, panicked state, but while he peeled off his coat, she had a moment to appreciate the rest of him. Big, yes. Not more than a few years older than her—maybe late twenties at the most. Chestnut hair brushed his shoulders, and his equally dark eyes sparkled in the low light.
Suddenly, his words hit her. “Warm? You call that warm?”
He chuckled, a sexy sound that filled the room. “Warm enough to snow.”
Whatever that meant. “Didn’t feel too toasty to me.”
“Like you said, you’ve got your fingers and your toes. What I can’t figure out is what an obvious city girl like you is doing all by herself in the mountains, freezing to death on my land.”
Heat crawled up her cheeks. “I didn’t know I was on your land. My friends and I, we’re renting a cabin,”—she waved vaguely—“somewhere around here. We’re on our winter break, thought it would be fun to come out here, hike around. Do a little skiing.” Mostly they’d wanted to hit on hot skier guys, but that hadn’t worked out so well since most of the snow bums they’d run into at the out-of-the-way ski resort had turned out to be less than panty-melting, and more stoners looking for women to buy them beer. That would teach them to book at the last minute, and to go somewhere not exactly known for catering to a lot of out-of-towners.
He snorted. “You wandered well off the path if you were headed for the rental cabins closer to the resort, city girl.”
His lack of seriousness about her near-death rankled. “Well, excuse me if I accidentally trespassed while trying not to die.”
“You’re excused.” He grinned. The expression took years off his face, and she mentally revised his age to a couple of years closer to her own.
“Well, thank you very much,” she replied, injecting as much sarcasm as she could into the words.
“You’re very welcome,” he said, still grinning.
She huffed at him and he laughed.
“Are you hungry, city girl?”
Her stomach rumbled in response. “It’s Evie.”
“I’ll warm us up some soup, Evie.” His gaze caught hers, and his amusement disappeared. “Evie,” he repeated, as if tasting her name.
September 9, 2014
Claiming Their Royal Mate #1 – New Release
Super excited to let you all know about my new release, Claiming Their Royal Mate. This is the first part of a new paranormal romance menage serial, and it’s a fun, spicy story. I hope you’ll check it out!
Claiming Their Royal Mate #1In The Series Claiming Their Royal Mate Genres: Erotic Romance, Menage, New Adult, Paranormal AmazonDaniella Clark has never fit in—a fact she’s always blamed on being adopted. But when her body is overtaken by a need so fierce it defies human explanation, she turns to the one man she instinctively knows must have the answers she seeks—her sexy-as-sin neighbor. But his explanation isn’t one she can easily accept.
No matter how much he wants Daniella, Owen Shaw’s orders are to keep her safe while keeping his hands off. Because even though he is a powerful weretiger in his own right, Daniella doesn’t belong to him, she belongs to his alpha.
Erick is more beast than man, and as the alpha of his clan, he will do anything to preserve his people. Their future rests in the hands of a female who finds him detestable, but Erick is a hunter, and will not let Daniella go so easily. No matter that she desires his best friend.
Even as Daniella revels in the sensuality of the weretiger males, she fights to maintain her sense of self. She might be one of them, but she’s not going to be the submissive female Erick seems to be hoping for. But when old enemies arise, the weretigers’ fate may be out of their hands.
Excerpt:
*ADULTS ONLY*
She struggled into the hallway and banged on his door; the sound hurt her sensitive ears. Three knocks and the door opened.
Owen stood in the doorway, his large, muscular body bare save for a pair of boxer briefs. He pulled her inside, a motion so quick she barely felt his hands grip her arms before he released her on the other side of the doorframe. Then he wasn’t touching her. Instead, he peered out into the hallway, as if he thought she might not be alone.
“Are you all right? Did someone—”
“What the hell is wrong with me?” That wasn’t what she’d meant to ask, dammit. There was no real reason to believe Owen would have any idea what ailed her, but her instincts screamed he knew the answer.
Or maybe she was just confused. She couldn’t even manage a rational conversation at the moment. She clenched her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching out and touching him. And oh, how she wanted to touch the man who even now made her angry. Feel the muscles barely contained by his skin. Take in his scent, which teased the edge of her senses.
He stared at her, then took a long breath. His eyes widened. “Ah, hell, Daniella.”
The simple act of him saying her name pushed her blood pressure up a notch. She licked her lips and took an involuntary step toward him before stopping herself in her tracks.
“What is wrong with me?” She ground out every word.
“It’s not my place to say.” He shut the door behind him, turning his back to her.
She laughed, but the sound held no amusement. She was about ready to either jump out of her skin, or shove this man who she didn’t even care for to the ground so she could screw him seven ways from Sunday, and he was keeping secrets?
“Tell me!”
“It’s—you’re special. There’s something that your adoptive parents never prepared you for, didn’t know to prepare you for. But I’m only here to keep you safe. I can’t go into any more detail.” His eyes met hers, more amber than brown, and just his gaze sent a jolt of lust through her body.
“Fuck your secrets.” Her sex ached so badly that it hurt. And he smelled good, so damn good. Like a twisted mix of man and cinnamon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to sleep with him or eat him. She pressed her thighs together, but the pressure only served to make her sensitive skin more inflamed.
His eyes narrowed in understanding. “Dammit. You’re in full heat. Come with me.”
He led her to a couch and had her sit. But she couldn’t sit—pressure seemed to only make it worse. So she lay down instead. The world was surreal, and Owen’s scent seemed to inundate the couch—a deep, masculine scent that teased her desire. A murmured voice caressed her ears and she realized he was on the phone.
What had he said—full heat? She had no clue what that could be. Was he calling an ambulance? She might be ill. She certainly didn’t feel right, although she didn’t feel sick, either. Could she have been poisoned? The pipes in the apartment building had to be old as dirt, probably filled with lead. Maybe she’d been drugged. But she hadn’t left her apartment all day, so how was that possible? Time-released Ecstasy wasn’t a thing, as far as she knew. It felt as though something—something outside of herself, outside of her control—was assaulting her.
“I’m going to try to help you,” Owen said, his voice strained.
Daniella opened her eyes and blinked against the brightness. She hadn’t noticed him approaching.
“Need you,” she managed.
“I know, kitten. I can’t give you that. But I can help you. Maybe make it not hurt so much. But to do that I have to touch you.” His voice deepened and her sex throbbed in response. “Do you want me to help you?”
September 8, 2014
Claiming Their Royal Mate #1
*ADULTS ONLY*
She struggled into the hallway and banged on his door; the sound hurt her sensitive ears. Three knocks and the door opened.
Owen stood in the doorway, his large, muscular body bare save for a pair of boxer briefs. He pulled her inside, a motion so quick she barely felt his hands grip her arms before he released her on the other side of the doorframe. Then he wasn’t touching her. Instead, he peered out into the hallway, as if he thought she might not be alone.
“Are you all right? Did someone—”
“What the hell is wrong with me?” That wasn’t what she’d meant to ask, dammit. There was no real reason to believe Owen would have any idea what ailed her, but her instincts screamed he knew the answer.
Or maybe she was just confused. She couldn’t even manage a rational conversation at the moment. She clenched her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching out and touching him. And oh, how she wanted to touch the man who even now made her angry. Feel the muscles barely contained by his skin. Take in his scent, which teased the edge of her senses.
He stared at her, then took a long breath. His eyes widened. “Ah, hell, Daniella.”
The simple act of him saying her name pushed her blood pressure up a notch. She licked her lips and took an involuntary step toward him before stopping herself in her tracks.
“What is wrong with me?” She ground out every word.
“It’s not my place to say.” He shut the door behind him, turning his back to her.
She laughed, but the sound held no amusement. She was about ready to either jump out of her skin, or shove this man who she didn’t even care for to the ground so she could screw him seven ways from Sunday, and he was keeping secrets?
“Tell me!”
“It’s—you’re special. There’s something that your adoptive parents never prepared you for, didn’t know to prepare you for. But I’m only here to keep you safe. I can’t go into any more detail.” His eyes met hers, more amber than brown, and just his gaze sent a jolt of lust through her body.
“Fuck your secrets.” Her sex ached so badly that it hurt. And he smelled good, so damn good. Like a twisted mix of man and cinnamon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to sleep with him or eat him. She pressed her thighs together, but the pressure only served to make her sensitive skin more inflamed.
His eyes narrowed in understanding. “Dammit. You’re in full heat. Come with me.”
He led her to a couch and had her sit. But she couldn’t sit—pressure seemed to only make it worse. So she lay down instead. The world was surreal, and Owen’s scent seemed to inundate the couch—a deep, masculine scent that teased her desire. A murmured voice caressed her ears and she realized he was on the phone.
What had he said—full heat? She had no clue what that could be. Was he calling an ambulance? She might be ill. She certainly didn’t feel right, although she didn’t feel sick, either. Could she have been poisoned? The pipes in the apartment building had to be old as dirt, probably filled with lead. Maybe she’d been drugged. But she hadn’t left her apartment all day, so how was that possible? Time-released Ecstasy wasn’t a thing, as far as she knew. It felt as though something—something outside of herself, outside of her control—was assaulting her.
“I’m going to try to help you,” Owen said, his voice strained.
Daniella opened her eyes and blinked against the brightness. She hadn’t noticed him approaching.
“Need you,” she managed.
“I know, kitten. I can’t give you that. But I can help you. Maybe make it not hurt so much. But to do that I have to touch you.” His voice deepened and her sex throbbed in response. “Do you want me to help you?”
August 25, 2014
Sculptor’s Desire by Kerry Adrienne #Romance #MM #Erotic
Hi guys! Today I’m sharing a new release and sale announcement for a fellow writer, Kerry Adrienne. Sculptor’s Desire is a M/M contemporary erotic romance, and is sooo hot. As is the first book in the series, which is going on sale for 99 cents this week. Here’s the pertinent info, and I hope you’ll check out the books!
Sculptor’s Desire by Kerry Adrienne releases August 27~
To celebrate the release of Sculptor’s Desire, Artist’s Touch (book one in the series) will be on sale for 99cents from August 25-31.
Artist’s Touch
Blurb:Every starlet wants master painter Kenon Alavi to do her portrait…and more. But Kenon prefers firm to soft and sates his desires with the boyfriends of the women he paints, enjoying the diversity of many lovers but shunning any attachments.
Wallace Harte’s English degree isn’t helping him find a job and working at a bar is the closest he’s gotten to being the Second Coming of Faulkner. Something’s gotta give soon or he’ll be out on the street.
Kenon zeroes in on the bartender at an art exhibition, intending to add him to his long list of conquests, but Wally bolts, initiating a heated game of cat and mouse. Kenon delights in the game until he discovers what Wally is writing. Feeling betrayed, Kenon swears off all entanglements until he reads Wally’s story and discovers true love is sometimes between the pages and not the sheets.
Inside Scoop: This book contains hot, sexy scenes of M/M interaction of an artistic nature. Who knew having your portrait painted could be so hot?
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Buy Artist’s Touch for only 99 cents this week:
Sculptor’s Desire
Blurb:
Rocco Lazzaro is on a mission to find the perfect male body to sculpt. His inability to find “the one” has affected his creativity and he’s frustrated by his failure. With a Guild charity auction coming up, he’s expected to provide high quality sculptures, but the pieces he creates feel soulless.
When Devin, a yoga instructor, approaches him and offers to help, Rocco can’t quit thinking about the red-hot ginger. Devin’s New Age beliefs push Rocco away—he can’t deal with reality, much less mysticism. No auras and rainbows for Rocco—just stone and chisel and hammer.
But Devin is persistent. He knows he’s supposed to help Rocco find his muse—and he’ll stop at nothing to show him that the line between art and skin is very thin and a true muse can provide inspiration in many ways.
This story contains hot, sexy artistic scenes of M/M interaction as our sculptor goes hands on in more ways than one.
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
I’d love for you to add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads.
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: SCULPTOR’S DESIRE
Copyright © KERRY ADRIENNE, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Rocco clutched the purple fliers and stared out at the busy park from his seat. He’d posted enough of the papers for the day, not that it mattered. He’d never had luck distributing them before—the responses had never lived up to his expectations. He set his backpack on the ground and leaned back against the wooden bench. Why bother? Not like the perfect man was going to walk up, pick up the flier and actually respond. Not in this lifetime.
He lowered the sunglasses over his eyes. The late afternoon sunlight didn’t thread through the full-summer trees in this part of Central Park, but his shades allowed him to “bulge watch” as the throngs of tourists and New Yorkers paid homage at the mosaic shrine to John Lennon. The circular black and white medallion with “Imagine” scripted across its center was a place of reverence. Disciples had outlined the medallion with a peace sign made of fresh-cut flowers, and tourists took turns posing and taking pictures in front of the makeshift altar.
Rocco scanned the visitors. The place was a people-watcher’s dream, and for a Monday, the crowd was huge. Summer in the city always brought the tourists in droves of asinine clothing and hats and noise. Still, he had hope he’d find the one he was looking for.
The man who’d make his dreams come true.
He set the fliers on the bench beside him, then picked up one purple sheet and folded it into a fan, carefully creasing each fold. He tried to breathe out the hot air, but no doubt about it, the June day was steaming. New York was a sweltering change from the Adirondack cabin where he’d spent most of his time in the last month. Still, he was happy to be back in the city—his second home. The cabin was great as a quiet place to work, even though it was small, but its remoteness made it impossible to people-watch and gain inspiration.
Rocco crimped the last crease. His apartment in one of the Guild’s brownstones felt like home away from home. The Guild’s large studio provided the best space he’d ever had to work—tons of light and plenty of quiet. And his guildmates were like brothers, always ready to support each other through any artistic struggle, though he supposed they too were growing tired of his search for a perfect man. No one had actually voiced it, but he felt a distinct difference in the tone of the conversation when he brought the search up in conversation. With the upcoming charity auction in October, most of the artists would be working overtime and even less inclined to listen to his plight.
He fanned himself with the folded flier. Nothing to see at the moment. Not a single possibility in the groups of people gathered in the small courtyard. He scanned the area. The top edge of the Dakota Apartments peeked over the trees and Rocco glanced over the rows of tightly curtained windows. He’d never been inside the lavish building, though he knew several Guild members had been to private parties there. Rocco had been invited many times but had always declined. Wealth and showmanship weren’t his thing. He preferred the simple life where nature set the style, not John Varvatos and Marc Jacobs.
Strawberry Fields was a prime tourist spot. Too bad today’s mob held few specimens worthy of a glance, much less a stare. I’d think the simple math odds would warrant at least a couple prospects. Add in summer shorts, and there should be at least a good bulge or two…
He glanced at the stack of fliers—about fifty of them left. He’d put up as many papers as he could around the park over the last hour. Who was he kidding? After years of searching, he might as well give up on finding the ideal male. He set the fan on the bench and shoved the stack of fliers into the front pocket of his backpack and zipped it up.
He’d held several open calls with no luck. Something inside him pushed him to keep looking, keep trying, no matter how many times he failed. The same something kept him awake at night and tore apart his thoughts during the day. He’d find what he was looking for and he wouldn’t stop until he did, no matter what it took. It didn’t matter if it cost him his friends, his guildmates, his sanity. That was art, wasn’t it?
“May I sit here?”
The soft, lilting voice wove through Rocco’s thoughts and he paused. He looked up and his breath caught in his throat when he saw where the voice originated. Broad shoulders and a flat abdomen encased in a perfectly tight white T-shirt. Tall, but not overly so. Blue jean shorts, snug. Red cropped hair that glistened gold at the tips and fell over in a lock of bangs. Rocco gazed from top to bottom and licked his dry lips.
Red, white, blue, and all American.
“May I?” the man repeated.
“Sure.” Rocco fumbled with his pack and slid over to make room on the wooden park bench, pushing his folded fan behind him and out of the way so the stranger could sit down.
“Thanks,” the man said, dropping onto the bench.
No, thank you. But not so close. The vibrations of the man sitting raced through the wood of the bench into wood between Rocco’s legs. He swallowed hard, pushing back the anxiety. “No problem,” he said, half-whispering. He peeked then gazed down again. Finally, someone worth looking at. Only the man was so freaking near, Rocco felt as if he could feel the heat emanating from the man’s hotness.
Too close. No comfort.
The man scooted back on the bench and stretched out his legs. “Long day. I’m exhausted. Didn’t expect there to still be such a crowd here this time of day.” He blew out a long breath and closed his eyes.
Despite the heat, a shiver raced through Rocco and he eyed the fluid line of the man’s form. If he’d had a sketchpad, he’d do a quick gesture drawing of the long stroke of torso and limbs.
Not knowing what to say, Rocco turned away. A group of noisy teens descended on the mosaic like a swarm of bees, laughing and shouting and taking photos of themselves in stupid poses. Rocco blinked away the distraction and looked back to the man sitting beside him.
Not bad. “Yeah.” Hell, not bad at all. “It’s crowded.” He squeezed his thighs together to control his body’s reaction. Why couldn’t the man have chosen to sit on the other side of the path where Rocco could observe without having to talk?
“Such a loud crowd, at that.” The man opened his eyes and peered at the teen spectacle then shook his head. “They need to relax. Chill. You’d think they’d never been outside before.”
Rocco nodded and followed his gaze. A teen had picked up one of the flowers from the medallion and was tossing it into the air and catching it. “Tourists. New York can’t live with them, or without them.”
“Tourist?” The man asked. “Aren’t you? I can’t place that accent, so I assumed you were. Where are you from?”
“Italy.” Rocco sat up straight, trying to not be obvious in staring at the man’s muscular legs. He must be some kind of athlete. Was this man a candidate or had the hour of staring at subpar specimens clouded Rocco’s judgment? “Well, born in Italy, but I’ve lived in the city for several years. Many, actually. I consider myself a New Yorker now.”
“Ah, so Italian with some city dialect. Not a tourist. What’s your name?”
Rocco flipped his sunglasses up onto his head. “Rocco Lazzaro. Not a tourist.” He forced a smile. Meeting new people in person wasn’t something he was used to doing.
“But very Italian, I see. Nice to meet you, Rocco.” The man held his hand out. “I’m Devin Johansson. Also not a tourist. I live on the East Side.”
Rocco took Devin’s hand in his own and shook it firmly, aware that his own hand was clammy with anxiety. “Good to meet you too, Devin.”
Devin clamped down on Rocco’s fingers and held on. “Oh. You have working hands,” he whispered. He pulled Rocco’s hand closer and rubbed Rocco’s palm with long, soft fingers. “And your aura shows great creativity.” He looked up. “What is it you do?”
The teens moved on down the park path, giggling and talking loudly as they went. Rocco glanced over at them, trying to still the shudder that played along his arm as Devin rubbed his hand. A calm, warm feeling flowed up through his arm and into his chest. Even in the summer heat, the warmth felt good. Too good. Wait, what did he say? What the hell?
“My what? My aura?” Rocco yanked his hand away, immediately aware of the loss of warmth. Great. The first good-looking guy he’d met this week was a fruit loop New-Ager.
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Kerry writes about love in its many forms, and enjoys exploring the dynamics of relationships and the quandaries people get themselves into. She lives in suburbia, but is making plans to escape to the ocean and NYC, as both places hold a piece of her heart.
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August 14, 2014
Office Party Part Four is out! #bdsm #menage #erotica
Super excited to let you all know that The Punishment, Office Party #4, is now out in the world. This is (if I do say so myself) the hottest part of the serial thus far. Faith finds herself in a precarious position (in more ways than one!). I hope you’ll check it out!
Part Five–the final installment of the main storyline–will be out in September. Sign up for my newsletter and you’ll get an email as soon as that is available!
The PunishmentIn The Series Office Party Serial Genres: Contemporary, Erotic Romance, Erotica, Menage AmazonBarnes & Noble
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All Romance eBooks
Faith has refused to bow to Mr. Lawrence’s wishes, and that decision costs her a night of pleasure and discipline the likes of which she could have never imagined. A night where her connection to her boss only grows. But when he pulls away, Faith has to decide if gaining his trust is worth putting her own convictions aside.
But if neither of them will bend, is she strong enough to walk away from the man she can’t resist?
The Punishment is an erotic short story with light BDSM elements and hot menage action. It is not intended for young readers due to mature content. Adults only.
9,700 words
Excerpt:
*ADULTS ONLY*
Emotions in a jumble, she stood from Tara’s desk and headed for Lawrence’s office. Tara would be back soon, and no one made the boss wait.
To her surprise, he wasn’t alone.
She gave Black and Martinson a tentative smile, hoping it didn’t look forced. Her heart dropped to her feet as the thread of hope escaped her.
Whatever he’d invited her in here for, it wasn’t to apologize. Nor, she was pretty sure, was it to tell her that he didn’t care about her little secret.
Lawrence’s expression was pure steel, which for some ridiculous reason made her breath catch and her panties immediately wet.
“You are to be rewarded today, Miss Wilson.”
“Re-rewarded? What are you talking about?” And why did it make her sex clench with need?
“I’m told you’re doing well at your job. You’ve been with the company for several weeks now, so I think a reward is in order.”
The words made sense but something was off. He didn’t look pleased with her—at all. In fact, he looked downright pissed off. And could she really have been here for several weeks? In some ways it felt like longer, but in others it seemed like she’d started here only the day before.
She glanced at Black, who smiled reassuringly at her, but Lawrence got up from his desk and walked around it to stand only a couple of feet from her, forcing her gaze back to him.
“Now if you can’t manage to follow directions today, we may have to punish you instead of reward you. But you can do what you’re told, can’t you, Miss Wilson? Because if you can’t, no one here will interfere with your punishment.” His voice was low, dangerous. Angry.
She blinked. Had she been looking to Black for a rescue?
No. Whatever was going to happen here today was something she’d enjoy—she was certain that Lawrence would never really hurt her—not physically, anyway. But Lawrence hadn’t liked her instinctive glance toward Black, that much was certain.
Suddenly it clicked. Lawrence’s anger and her supposed reward—only if she managed to do as she was told. He wanted to punish her. The man was going to make it impossible for her to follow his instructions somehow. But why the punishment? Because she wouldn’t tell him who had referred her for the job—or was it because she’d taken comfort in Black’s arms?
She stood straighter. “I’m a big girl. I can take my reward.” And my punishment.
The added words didn’t pass her lips, but Lawrence heard them anyway. His lips curled into a smile, but darkness still lurked in his eyes. “Good.” He closed the distance between them and then reached out to tilt her chin up so she couldn’t look away. As if she could have, with his gaze locked on hers. “Let’s see if you can really lie in the bed you’ve made.”
August 13, 2014
The Punishment
*ADULTS ONLY*
Emotions in a jumble, she stood from Tara’s desk and headed for Lawrence’s office. Tara would be back soon, and no one made the boss wait.
To her surprise, he wasn’t alone.
She gave Black and Martinson a tentative smile, hoping it didn’t look forced. Her heart dropped to her feet as the thread of hope escaped her.
Whatever he’d invited her in here for, it wasn’t to apologize. Nor, she was pretty sure, was it to tell her that he didn’t care about her little secret.
Lawrence’s expression was pure steel, which for some ridiculous reason made her breath catch and her panties immediately wet.
“You are to be rewarded today, Miss Wilson.”
“Re-rewarded? What are you talking about?” And why did it make her sex clench with need?
“I’m told you’re doing well at your job. You’ve been with the company for several weeks now, so I think a reward is in order.”
The words made sense but something was off. He didn’t look pleased with her—at all. In fact, he looked downright pissed off. And could she really have been here for several weeks? In some ways it felt like longer, but in others it seemed like she’d started here only the day before.
She glanced at Black, who smiled reassuringly at her, but Lawrence got up from his desk and walked around it to stand only a couple of feet from her, forcing her gaze back to him.
“Now if you can’t manage to follow directions today, we may have to punish you instead of reward you. But you can do what you’re told, can’t you, Miss Wilson? Because if you can’t, no one here will interfere with your punishment.” His voice was low, dangerous. Angry.
She blinked. Had she been looking to Black for a rescue?
No. Whatever was going to happen here today was something she’d enjoy—she was certain that Lawrence would never really hurt her—not physically, anyway. But Lawrence hadn’t liked her instinctive glance toward Black, that much was certain.
Suddenly it clicked. Lawrence’s anger and her supposed reward—only if she managed to do as she was told. He wanted to punish her. The man was going to make it impossible for her to follow his instructions somehow. But why the punishment? Because she wouldn’t tell him who had referred her for the job—or was it because she’d taken comfort in Black’s arms?
She stood straighter. “I’m a big girl. I can take my reward.” And my punishment.
The added words didn’t pass her lips, but Lawrence heard them anyway. His lips curled into a smile, but darkness still lurked in his eyes. “Good.” He closed the distance between them and then reached out to tilt her chin up so she couldn’t look away. As if she could have, with his gaze locked on hers. “Let’s see if you can really lie in the bed you’ve made.”
June 25, 2014
Error with Customer Satisfaction on Amazon
I’m deeply sorry, but it has come to my attention that a file error has occurred and that readers who have purchased Customer Satisfaction (Office Party #2) during the last couple of days have actually been receiving the wrong book. Pushing the Limits (Office Party #3) has been loading instead of Customer Satisfaction. I have been working with Amazon and they are getting the file corrected as quickly as possible.
It should be fixed soon, but I really hate the idea of anyone having to wait for the story. So if you would like a copy in the next couple of days and have purchased it on Amazon, please shoot me an email (you can use the little envelope on the right sidebar to do so) and I will send you a copy of the story to read. I will also post when the book is fixed, and Amazon will likely send an email as well.
Again, I’m SO sorry about this. Thank you for your patience!
June 22, 2014
Office Party Part 3 is out now! #menage #erotic #romance
I’m so excited to share Office Party Part Three with you all! Things are really heating up at Lawrence and Associates.
Pushing the Limits is available at Amazon, and there is an excerpt available here. I hope you’ll check it out!
Pushing the LimitsIn The Series Office Party Genres: Contemporary, Erotic Romance, Erotica, Menage
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Faith is finally making progress with her elusive, sexy boss. Intimate lunch dates, easy conversations, and a little after-hours fun convinces her it’s safe to let her guard down. The trick is keeping the butterflies in her stomach at bay, because emotional attachments are all but forbidden at Lawrence and Associates.
But when the rug is pulled out from under her, will she have to turn to someone else for comfort?
Pushing the Limits is an erotic romance novelette with light BDSM elements. It is not intended for young readers due to mature content. Adults only.
8,300 words
Pushing the Limits is part three of the Office Party serial. While it can be enjoyed without reading the prior parts, readers may prefer to start with part one, The Interview.


