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Excerpts From: ELLORA’S CAVEMEN:
FLAVORS OF ECSTASY II
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's
Cave Publishing, Inc.
An Excerpt From: CELTIC RHYTHM
Copyright © ARI THATCHER, 2009
Another drummer moved through the crowd. His bearing
demanded her attention, not to mention his height, noticeably taller than
the line of people standing at the edge of the space. He carried a large
side drum hanging by a strap around his neck, and he beat out the marching
meter as he wound his way through the large crowd. She felt the music as if
his drum controlled the pulse of her heart. The man’s long chestnut hair
fell in waves almost to his waist, moving in the breeze that snuck in
through the tent flaps. His white peasant shirt was open in a vee to mid-chest and tucked into his knee-length kilt.
His tartan proclaimed he was a Ferguson.
Cait couldn’t take her eyes off his body, the way it
moved, the way it filled his clothes. His sleeves fit tight against his
muscled forearms as he swung the drumsticks. He worked the crowd, smiling,
nodding, pausing in front of some. His arms kept
the beat as if by rote. He turned her way, met her look and licked his
lips. With the barest of grins, he nodded. Her heart fluttered and she
clamped her legs together, even knowing no one could see the sudden
dampness that tongue had caused. Wool skirts served a purpose after all.
The drummer turned his head toward the front of the
crowd and played on, stopping before an awestruck boy of two or three. The
boy’s gaze locked on the moving sticks, entranced. The drummer knelt and
set the drum down in front of the boy, pounded a few beats and offered the
sticks to the child.
The child picked up the sticks and bonked the drumhead,
his grin spreading. His eyes never left the instrument.
Cait’s chest tightened. This Celtic
drum god liked children, too. He was too good to be true. She forced her
lungs to fill and blew the air out through pursed lips as she left the
tent. Lily awaited her in their booth. She’d only left to find a restroom,
but her heart led her to the tent where the pipe and drum band played.
She loved traditional Celtic music, one of her favorite
parts of being a vendor at Scottish Highland Games around the western
states. A good, strong drumbeat was the hottest part of music. It didn’t
really matter what type of drum, as long as the pulse came through hard and
constant and driven.
When the drummer was a hottie
to boot, well, who needed more?
An Excerpt From: FOR THE KING’S PLEASURE
Copyright © CARA CARNES, 2009
“Why is that not
acceptable?”
“It could be, my King, but…” Laken
gasped a breath. His eyes darted to the three court guards on either side
of the doorway. “Selecting someone is only good if she is used.”
Ladarius fisted the ancient
wooden handle and took a deep breath. Anger boiled within him, but he knew
better than react. That was what had started this nightmare a month ago.
Several advisors had been quick to point out his increased agitation and
foul temperament. Everyone had immediately cited the cause as sexual
frustration.
“I’ll fuck the woman of your choosing before the royal
council and any of our people who wish to watch. It is required, so it
shall be.”
Laken cleared his throat and
whispered, “My King, I wish to mention that there are a couple of other
options available to you.”
“Such as?” The nervousness in the man’s voice made Ladarius’ skin crawl and his stomach knot. Whatever was
racing through Laken’s mind could not be good.
“There are quite a few rather fetching men who…”
“Finish that and I will gut you like an animal and toss
your remains to the wild beasts in the cages.” Outrage filled him, his
brain reeled at the fact his trusted friend and advisor would entertain the
idea of bringing men in for him. That would never happen in his palace. At
least not for him. “Women only if I must deal with this nonsense in the
first place, Laken.”
Ladarius removed the royal
robe and tossed it to one of the servants flittering nervously behind them.
Rubbing his hand across his neck, he willed his thinning patience to last a
few more moments.
“Forgive me. I had to offer it to you. A byrna would perhaps be an ideal option.” The
man’s hopefulness never ceased.
An Excerpt From: HELL TO PAY
Copyright © KIMBERLY DEAN, 2009
Rafer Long was waiting for
her. Watching and waiting…
His body tensed the moment he saw her. Sitting on the
deck next to him was her dog.
“I’m sorry,” Cassidy blurted. Instinctively she hurried
forward, wanting to stave off his anger.
“He wasn’t leashed.”
The cool voice whipped across the lawn, sending a chill
over her skin. Or something like a chill… Only it
was hotter. Hotter and, in its own way, invigorating.
“I put in an invisible fence,” she explained quickly. “I
don’t know why it’s not working.”
“This is the third time this week.”
“I know. I’m not sure how to contain him anymore. He
seems to have found a way off the chain when I use it. I feel like I’m
living with the Houdini of the canine world.”
Rafer didn’t smile and she was
rambling. The words just kept coming faster and quieter the more he watched
her. Finally, they trailed off to nothing. They stared at each other, two
on-edge combatants waiting for the other to make the first move.
Sensing something at play, Thunder rolled onto his stomach.
He’d been using Long’s deck as a scratching post for his back, oblivious to
the fact that he wasn’t wanted there. Propping himself up, he smiled at
her, panting with his pink tongue lolling carelessly.
“I’m sorry if he bothered you,” Cassidy said quietly.
In one smooth rolling motion, Rafer
pushed himself to his feet. “He seems to be spending as much time over here
as he is at his own home.”
“I know.” Her heart took off like a racehorse as her
enemy approached her. Tall and lean, he moved in a way that was
just…sexual. Or menacing. There was such a fine line between the two. Like
a tiger on the hunt, he had a lethal beauty that she couldn’t tear her gaze
from.
And God, he was beautiful. Dark-haired, blue-eyed and
hard-muscled.
“I’m beginning to think you send him over here
intentionally,” he said, stalking towards her.
“No! I swear.”
“Are you trying to rile me, Cassidy?”
Her mouth went dry.
When he stopped, he was in her space. “Because it’s
working.”
Pinpricks caught her skin. “He just seems intent on exploring.
Something over here must have caught his interest.”
Something or someone… Razor blue eyes suddenly focused
on her, seemingly peering into her soul, and her stomach dropped to
somewhere around her feet. She knew she had always had a fascination
for things that frightened her. Thunderstorms, horror movies, this man…
“That doesn’t make it all right.” His voice had gotten
even lower and raspier.
Sexier.
Embarrassment crept through her when her nipples
tightened almost painfully. “I know. You’re right. I’ll keep a closer eye
on him.”
“Not good enough.” He stepped closer until their bodies
nearly brushed.
“I warned you,” he said quietly. “What did I tell you
would happen if I found him on my land again?”
His jaw was tense, a muscle throbbing way back under his
ear. He radiated heat, frustration and aggression.
And pure and utter temptation.
“What did I tell you, Cass?”
Every muscle in her body trembled. “There’d be hell to
pay.”
“That’s right.” His blue eyes flashed. “And the devil is
here to collect.”
An Excerpt From: THE PROPER WIFE
Copyright © JANNE LEWIS, 2009
Elizabeth
watched men shouting and rushing about the busy wharf, but her attention
was soon caught by noises from the other side of the carriage, like the
grunting of an animal. She turned her head to find the source of the noise.
In the dark she could make out only the dim outlines of the barrels. She
moved closer to the carriage door.
A man spoke.
“You minx, you minx, I’ll have you.”
A woman laughed in response.
“Give me your titties, you
slut, you beauty.”
Elizabeth’s
heart beat faster. She knew she should look no further. She knew she should
leave the carriage and find Captain Warren. But before she could move, the
clouds parted and the light of the moon illuminated her view.
A woman with wild hair sat on the ground, leaning
against a barrel, her legs sprawled open. Her dress was pulled down to her
waist, her large breasts exposed.
A man sat next to her, reaching for her breasts. She
pushed his hands away.
“Let me have a drink first, you old sod,” the woman
said. She raised a bottle to her lips and took a deep swig. Then she poured
some of the liquid from the bottle on her breasts.
“Suck!” she commanded the man.
He groaned and put his mouth to her breasts, lapping at
them as if he were a dog.
He licked her nipples, sucked them, bit them.
“Such beauties,” the man said. He squeezed the woman’s breasts.
Elizabeth held her
breath, afraid they would see her watching them. She wanted them to stop.
She wanted them to go on.
An Excerpt From: TOUCH OF LUST
Copyright © LIDDY MIDNIGHT, 2009
Gavor drew in a slow breath as
he stood in the shadows near the wall of windows, surveying the crowd. The
scent of a ripe female teased him. Somewhere here was a woman worthy of his
attention. His kind could always tell.
He wasn’t often in the position of observer and enjoyed
the novelty, leisurely extending his awareness through the room. There! A
young woman, of maybe twenty Terran Standard
years, dressed in a dowdy garment that covered more than it revealed,
walked a precise two paces behind three older men. She kept her eyes downcast.
Her heavy clothing couldn’t conceal her generous curves.
The rich aroma of her sex—for it had to be hers—wrapped
around him, suffusing his entire being. Damn, but the pull was strong. A
tickle of fear mingled with the lust coursing through him. As a half-breed
shifter who couldn’t change his shape, he’d hoped his limited abilities
would leave him free of the mate-bond that characterized his mother’s
people.
He’d dreaded learning otherwise and finding his mate,
for it would put a stop to his licentious ways. And by the moons of Orsind, fucking whomever he liked wherever he liked was
what he lived for! Who would voluntarily give that up for monogamy? He had
inherited the were-folk charisma in cargo-loads. That made life much more
interesting and almost made up for not being able to run free in animal
form. He felt perfectly complete without a mate. That the mating bond was
involuntary was irrelevant.
The burnished gold of her hair drew his eye but when she
looked up, it was her perfect features that held his attention. By most
cultural preferences she was too tall, too long of nose, too plump, too
subservient in her demeanor, for beauty. To him, she was perfect.
What would she look like, bound spread-eagled and
waiting for him? Even better, rearing over him, ready to impale herself on
his ready cock. He longed to see her eyes darken with passion and desire, her lush breasts blush as she came for him again
and again. The beast that lived within him agreed with a snarl, pushing
against his control and urging him to take her, here, now.
An Excerpt From: WITH SWORD AND SALT
Copyright © B.J. MCCALL, 2009
His piercing blue gaze met hers. Heat spiked straight to
her pussy.
Fuck! Kitta understood
she had a sensual attraction to his kind, fearless men who tackled
impossible missions and defied the odds. In her former life as a mercenary
she’d had enough sweat-drenched fear and alpha males to last a lifetime.
But what was a black-ops guy doing on Raegel, a
planet well outside Alliance-controlled space?
His clean male scent hit her nostrils, awakening a smoldering
need Kitta eased nightly with an animated piece
of pliable plastic. Kitta inhaled, slowly, and
looked right into his cerulean eyes.
“What’s your pleasure?”
Hair as pale as snow fell in unruly waves to his broad
shoulders, but his arched eyebrows and long eyelashes were black. His nose
was a little long, his chin strong and his smile was utterly captivating.
“No volcano for me. Captain Donel
won’t be his best tomorrow, but one of us has to be functional.”
“Crewing with Donel. Lucky
you.”
Again, his lips curved into a devastating smile. “I’ll
have a beer. Whatever you recommend.”
Kitta poured her best and most
expensive brew and set the glass before him.
“Thanks.”
Donel’s crewmen were usually
hard drinkers, beer-chugging fucks that belched their approval and made
rude passes, but this one was handsome and polite.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure.” The answer popped out so quick Kitta couldn’t call it back. Okay, so she’d break a
rule and let a customer buy her a drink. “One drink.”
He nodded. “It’s nice talking to a real bartender
instead of a droid programmed in small talk. Even better when the bartender
is a beautiful woman.”
The blond wasn’t the first customer to flirt with her,
but he was definitely the sexiest.
Two off-duty security officers, the closest thing Raegel had to police officers, arrived and called out
to Kitta. She served them and moved along the bar
refilling drinks, working her way back to the sexy patron.
She caught his delicious scent, felt an almost forgotten
thrum deep in her middle. Maybe tonight, just this once, she’d make an
exception and allow herself a little pleasure.
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