After their night of passion...from Viking in Tartan

My assignment from TPTB at Book Boyfriends Cafe is "the morning after." Breakfast in bed would be too predictable for most of my characters, especiallly if they hailed from thirteenth-century Scotland.

This selection is from Viking in Tartan, which is found in the best-selling boxed set, the Naughty List. This is a group of winter holiday stories, and mine takes place on Yule, 1260. In the story, the arrival of a Viking raider spells change for little Clan Kilbirnie, especially for the headman's daughter.

As you might imagine, the Viking and the virgin spend a passionate night together. And what happened the next day?

Her other swain came to call.

They dressed, Erland in his customary black—a rough tunic, trews and

boots, with a short sword scabbarded in his belt. Rhona’s pleated chansil smock was embroidered around the neck and hem, and her cyrtel tightly woven green wool. He hadn’t doubted her word that she was the local laird’s daughter, but her clothing, despite their dampness and salt-stains, proved her honesty.

He led the way out of the cave and into the thin daylight. The storm had passed, and the sun struggled through low-hanging fog to glitter off the weapons of a half-dozen warriors surrounding the cave’s mouth.

Energy shot through his veins. He shoved Rhona behind him and snapped, “Get back in there and do not come out ’til I say.”

White-faced, she obeyed without protest. He advanced, dropping one hand to his sword’s hilt. “Who threatens me and my lady without cause?”

“Without cause?” One of the warriors broke from the group. He was protected by a bronze chest plate over a tunic and black trews, and wore a plaidie of red, white and green wrapped around his shoulders. Erland recognized the pattern. Stuart of Bute.

So this was the swain his lady had risked death to flee. Bute’s narrow, cruel eyes and seamed face contrasted with full, almost girlish lips. Though he seemed fit, he was indeed older, and certainly Erland could defeat him in a fair fight.

But fights were rarely fair. He shifted his gaze to the rest of the group. Some wore bows slung over their shoulders, less helpful in close quarters. But all wore swords.

Erland tugged on his ear. Six against one. Not great odds, but not impossible. Mayhap he could improve his chances. “I challenge you for the lady’s hand.”

Bute snorted. “I wouldnae have the whore on a golden platter.”

    Erland sprang at him, seized his head and with a mighty twist, wrenched it off.  

If what you've read intrigues you, buy it here:

Amazon: http://indi.uno/1taThiO

iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/nogyvpe

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/naughty-list-2

Google: http://tinyurl.com/nqdnq3k

Remember, this is a blog hop...find other talented authors' writing here:

http://www.bookboyfriendscafe.com/2015/01/hot-for-friday-hot-morning-after.html

The Vampire's Kiss--from Blood is Thicker by Suz deMello (#vampire #romance #kiss @MFRW_ORG)

           This week's assignment from TPTB at Book Boyfriends Cafe is a "hot kiss" scene. There's nothing hotter than an immortal's kiss...

           Before I had time to register what he’d said, he gave me his pussy-warming smile, then leaned forward and kissed me.  He thrust his tongue into my mouth, and when it scraped past my sharp canines, I tasted his blood.

            Yes.  I sucked greedily.  Sweet.  Rich.  John was a vampire, and he’d fed recently on young, healthy prey.  I let myself drown in that lushness for a moment.  It suffused my every cell with rapture, energizing me even though I went weak from pleasure.  Then I returned the favor, pushing my tongue into his mouth and searching for his canines, deliberately pressing into their edges to give him a part of myself, my blood.  The tiny cuts would heal quickly, while the mingling, the sharing would last forever.

            An otherworldly tingle started in my lips and tongue, spreading over

my flesh like magic rainbows dancing over my skin.  All-encompassing pleasure wrapped me in ecstasy.  His kiss transported me into another world, a private, magical universe of bliss.  For a brief moment, nothing and no one else existed.  Desire flamed into violent life, capturing me with unbreakable bonds.  My clit quivered, and my pussy clenched with need.  I reached for John, grasping his jacket’s lapels, uncaring when I gripped so tight that my greedy, needy fingers tore the gray gabardine.

            I cannot begin to describe the communion that’s created when two immortals connect.  Kissing is like an orgasm not only of the body, but of the mind and soul as well. (Yes, we have souls, unnatural though they may be). 

            I tugged him closer, frantic to feel his chest against mine, desperate for his cock to enter me. It had been so long... Besides, up close and personal, John’s sheer masculinity overwhelmed me.  I’d forgotten how seductive lust could be.  I could become addicted to his kiss, the hard planes of his body beneath my questing fingertips, his raw animal blood-scent. 

            I wanted to kiss John forever, and make love with him throughout eternity, but I was wary of becoming ensnared.  We immortals are a suspicious lot.  We don’t love very often.  We fear our fellows, and with good reason. 

            John could kill me.  The tiny sips we’d shared were tasty, but my heart’s blood would make him immensely powerful.  

           This kiss is from Blood is Thicker, a short story. Here's what it's about:

Genre: Paranormal action-adventure.

A century-old vampire, Rama is used to shadows and loneliness. 

She uses the name Hestia White and lives in a coastal town working as a private investigator. If some bad guys disappear on her shift, no one cares…until John van Helsing shows up. Bearing the name of the vamps’ greatest foe, he interferes in her case and in her life.

Friend, lover or enemy?

Buy it here: http://www.ellorascave.com/blood-is-thicker.html

                   http://tinyurl.com/mof6y7r (Amazon) 

This is a blog hop! Find other talented authors' kiss excerpts here:

http://www.bookboyfriendscafe.com/

Evoking a Mood--Highland Vampire by Suz deMello (@MFRW_ORG #MFRWHooks #highland)

         I love to write about setting, because setting is a great way to evoke a 

mood in the reader. That may be the reason I love Gothics. Damsels in distress 

in mysterious castles with broody owners...Yum. I used to adore Victoria Holt, 

Mary Stewart and Daphne du Maurier even before I really got into reading and 

writing romance. 

         Here's the beginning of a Gothic I wrote a few years ago, a short story 

called Highland Vampire:

I had fled as fast and as far as I could. I could run no farther than to the edge of the world, here at the northwestern corner of Scotland.

The gloaming was deep upon the land when I found Kilburn Castle. Isn’t that what Scots called it, the gloaming? That mysterious time between day and night, when blue dusk dims the sky and magical beings wander forth.

I let my little rented Vauxhall roll to a stop and considered the broody hulk of a castle high on a hill above the sea, silhouetted against the deepening night. The crash of the waves against the cliff was interrupted by a car roaring out of the fortress’s gate. It sped past me, almost clipping my bumper in its haste, and raced down the hill, its headlights switching on as it traversed a curve in the narrow road. 

Here's what the story is about:

Natasha Desmond is a woman on the run. But the castle in which she seeks refuge may harbor a greater menace. Though she welcomes the attentions of the castle's broody owner, she awakens with two tiny punctures on the side of her neck...

Intrigued? Score your copy here:

               

         http://tinyurl.com/HighlandVampHQ (publisher's site)

http://bit.ly/HighlandVamp (Amazon)

This is a blog hop! Find other talented authors' snippets:

A Scottish Wedding on My Sexy Saturday (@naughtyLiterati #NaughtyList @MFRW_ORG #highlandwedding)

This week's theme on My Sexy Saturday is family and love--appropriate for Thanksgiving week. However, back in the  thirteenth century, Thanksgiving didn't exist.

But family and gratitude did. 

In this snippet from Viking in Tartan, Rhona Kilbirnie finds gratitude in the happy turn her life unexpectedly has taken.

And that eve, Da joined them, reciting the solemn but joyous words that would bind her to her Viking warrior forever. She glanced around. Their Great Hall wasna so great, but on this afternoon the servants had outdone themselves. They’d cleared away the remains of the previous night’s revelry and decorated every table, mantel and window ledge with fresh evergreen and holly boughs. Their fragrance and bright berries lent a festive atmosphere to the ceremony. Pale moonlight struggled through the few arrow slits uncovered by tapestries.

A fire crackled and glowed, fed by the great Yule log that smoldered in the hearth. She was relieved to notice that because the storm wind had died down, the chimney didna smoke—for they were standing in front of the hearth for the short ceremony.

Clearly aware of the event’s importance, Erland had cleaned his boots, combed his long hair and shaved with a borrowed razor. He had found the largest plaid available and, with her brother’s help, had pleated it into a kilt and wore it belted atop immaculate linen borrowed from her da. The shirt almost fit, Da having gained more than a little weight as he’d aged. 

Everyone had washed and was clad in their best. She’d done her part, choosing

her finest cyrtel for the event. ’Twas fashioned of a soft red wool that looked especially well with her dark hair and eyes.

Erland looked down, caught her glance and smiled gently, in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. She smiled back, her heart warmed, her pride swelling. Her man was an unexpected treasure. He’d already shown he could defend as well as love her. And he’d managed to get on with Da and Keith, despite his Viking heritage. 

What would their bairns be like? Though she was still a mite sore, she could scarce wait to have Erland again and begin their new life.

How everything had changed in less than a day! She found it hard to remember she’d been willing to die rather than be joined to a man she detested. Indeed, she had promised herself she’d never wed, would never allow herself to be used as a pawn in her da’s schemes. And she hadna. Fate had chosen her man.

Interested? Here's what the short story is about:

Medieval romance from the Highland Vampires series. A Viking raider brings change to little Clan Kilbirnie, especially to the chieftain’s daughter Rhona.

     Find a list of the entire Highland Vampires series here:

http://www.suzdemello.com/highlandvampireseries.html

Viking in Tartan is part of the Naughty List boxed set, forthcoming on December first! Preorder now to lock in the low low introductory price of $.99

Amazon: http://indi.uno/1taThiO

iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/nogyvpe

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/naughty-list-2

Google: http://tinyurl.com/nqdnq3k

Remember, this is a blog hop. Find other authors' sexy snippets here:

Rhona and her #Viking #Vampire from "Viking in Tartan" in the new NAUGHTY LIST #boxedset (#romance #medieval #Scotland @MFRW_ORG)

It's a pleasure to participate in the very first Book Boyfriends Cafe blog hop, and I hope to be a regular contributor here.

Today I'm blogging about a short story that will appear in the Naughty List, a boxed set a group of us created to warm up your chilly winter nights. It'll be published on December first.

Here's the 4-1-1 about Viking in Tartan, a Medieval romance from the Highland Vampires series. A Viking raider brings change to little Clan Kilbirnie, especially to the chieftain’s daughter Rhona.

And here's a sexy little snippet to jumpstart your weekend:

He kissed her neck, feathering his tongue over the sensitive skin, and all conscious thought fled. She gripped his shoulders, then stroked them, admiring his strength, a contrast to his sweet, sweet kisses.

Her body was heating, tingling, sizzling, and she wanted to touch herself the way she did when she was alone at night, but... Wasn’t that wanton? Would he cease to treat her kindly if he knew the desires that drove her?

He lifted his head. “Touch yourself. Touch yourself in whatever way feels good to you.”

She inhaled a startled breath.

“Aye,” he said. “’Tis all right. Do it.”

She kissed him and dropped a hand to her quim. ’Twas damp and needy,

and she couldna resist pushing in one finger, then two, moaning.

“Aye,” he whispered. “Are you ready?”

“I... Should we?”

“You’re asking me?” He laughed.

“Truly, sir, I ken not what I should do.”

He pulled away and regarded her, his expression thoughtful, and rubbed his chin. “What troubles you, Mistress Rhona?”

“I, er... I ken that a man will reject used goods. That the Bute would reject me as would every other well-born man because I am with ye tonight.” She rose and picked up her shift. “But what if ye should do the same?”

He shook his head. “I will not.”

She pressed her lips together. Well she knew the ways of men, having seen more than one lass broken-hearted by a lad’s inconstancy. “I should go.”

“Is that what you truly wish?” He fixed her with those eyes again, those impossibly deep, soulful eyes.

Caught in their spell, she sank to her knees before him. “Nay,” she whispered.

AVAILABLE DECEMBER FIRST!

It's a Party! Sunday Snog #150 (#sundaysnog @fetlife #free @MFRW_ORG)

To celebrate the 150th Sunday Snog--

Hey! you ask. What's a "Sunday Snog"?

The Sunday Snog is a blog hop created and hosted by the fabulous Victoria Blisse, a nice British lady who writes really smutty books--and celebrates that as much as she can. She holds events like "Smut by the Sea," an annual gathering in Scarborough. If you don't know where that is, don't worry. Unless you're English, the odds are very small that you would. She also does various promotional events all around the web as well as the in-person ones in England.

The point of the Sunday snog is that we post a snog--that's British for a kiss. (Remember what Shaw said? "England and America are two countries separated by the same language.")

So here's a special snog--it's a party snog, because this is a 150th birthday party. And parties always have gifts, so I'm giving away a copy of my latest ebook, Kinky Toes, to a lucky commenter!

And here's the snog, from Rakes in Tartan. In this scene, Dagmar and Andrew, who have recently become lovers, have left a ball to enjoy a different kind of pleasure:

He took her face in his hands, clasping firmly. His voice was deep and a little rough. “I want ye, madame, and I will have ye as often as I can. Do ye agree?”

“Ja. I…I agree.” She trembled with more than a little fear. She’d belonged completely to Ragnar, but Andrew did not love her and Ragnar had.

She kissed his mouth, looking into his blue eyes, now narrow and hot with lust. She pushed in her tongue to taste his desire, and he responded by biting it, drawing blood and sucking it hard. He then grabbed her hair to drag away her head. “If I want yer tongue, I’ll go in and get it. Do ye understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She clung to him, limbs weak.

“That’s right, hold onto me tight. I willnae let ye go, willnae let ye fall.” 

If you like what you read of this BDSM-laced historical, find it here:

http://www.ellorascave.com/rakes-in-tartan.html

Remember--this is a blog hop, and every one of the authors in the hop is giving something away to celebrate the Sunday Snog's 150th birthday!

Find them here:

http://blissekiss.co.uk/

Rebekah R. Ganiere retells Snow White in a very #sexy way!

Don't let the subject matter fool you--this is a very steamy tale!

Snow the Vampire Slayer, Book Two in Rebekah's Farielle Series, is one you shouldn't miss. 

Lady Snow Gwyn is tired of playing "mother" to her seven Vampire Slaying brothers. For the past two years, she's yearned to be out there fighting at their side as they hunt for bloodsuckers in the black of night. Snow is as good a fighter as any man, but she wasn't called to be a Slayer. A mere formality in her book.

Prince Sageren, Son of Lothar, has spent the last fifty years in exile, awaiting the day when he can finally avenge his family and take back his throne. Barely existing, he's forced to face his inner demons and the monster he once was, compelling him to vow to never drink from humans again. A simple enough task--until he crosses paths with a human who makes his fangs ache to drain her.

When Snow runs into Prince Sage on a late night trip to the woods, she's torn between the urge to kill him and the desire to succumb to the feeling he stirs within her. And when Snow's life is threatened by the same evil that murdered his family, Prince Sage must enlist the aid of Snow's brothers to not only help him save her life, but to also regain his rightful place as King of the Vampires.

If Sage can keep the Slayers from killing him first.

EXCERPT

She inhaled the scent of his leather jacket. It mixed with the musky scent of his skin and she was overcome with a sudden longing deep inside that had her pulse quickening. She cleared her throat and tried to calm the rush of heat in her veins.

An aura of danger surrounded him and the risk of the encounter thrilled her. But the graceful way he moved, the way he tracked her, stirred a note of warning inside her.

She tried to grab her sword, but his gaze fell upon her heavily and she found she couldn’t.

“What are you doing to me?”

He inched even closer, bent his neck and breathed her in. Her stomach clenched. She’d never craved a man’s touch so badly. She didn’t like it. “You’re using magick on me. I command you to stop.”

“You command me?” He gave her a wry smile that she wanted to smack off his face.

“Are you fae? A mage? What are you?”

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

“I fell. You didn’t answer my question.”

“No, I didn’t. Let me see it.”

Snow’s arm lifted though she willed it to stay down. “You’re infuriating.”

He took her palm gently in his cool grasp and unwrapped it. “Thank you.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“To make sure it heals,” he whispered. He lifted her palm, examining it, and let out a shuddered breath.

“Don’t touch it. I’ve already disinfected it.” Snow’s mind felt cloudy and thick, like she’d taken too much medicine. She wanted to pull her hand away, but she couldn’t. His touch was gentle and cool on her skin.

Something nagged at the edge of her mind. She should be afraid, but she couldn’t concentrate long enough to figure out why.

Sage reached down and sniffed her palm. Snow’s instincts screamed for her to run. When he licked her wound, she sucked in a breath. Somehow the feel of his skin touching hers made her knees almost buckle.

“What are you?” she asked again.

He lifted his mouth from her skin, his eyes glowing brightly in the moonlight.

Her brain finally caught up with her. No! It wasn’t possible. Her brothers had said that vampires were vile and evil. They were dead, blood-sucking killers. How could this handsome, sensual man possibly be the monster they hunted at night?

Buy it here:

Author bio:

Rebekah is an award winning author. Her novel Dead Awakenings, debuted in January 2014. Red the Were Hunter, the first in her Farielle Series, released in May. The second book Snow the Vampire

Slayer will be releasing in September 22, 2014. And her trilogy The Society will be released Nov. 17th 2014 by Kensington's Lyrical Press.

Rebekah is the VP of Communications of the RWA FFP Chapter as well as a member of her local Los Angeles and Orange County chapters. In her spare time when she isn't writing you can find her moderating on SavvyAuthors.com or hanging out with her husband, four children and her English Bulldog, rabbit, two bearded dragons, and two tortoises. The escaped snake has yet to be found.

LINKS:

Newsletter ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ Book Trailers

Amazon, BN, Kobo & ARE

Spank Me If You Can--excerpt from Bridling His Vampire by Suz deMello (#SatSpanks #spanking #BDSM @MFRW_ORG)

All of us have to be introduced to the joy of spanking--the pleasure of this activity isn't readily apparent. In this snippet. Isobel Kilburn, budding vampire and affianced bride of Edgar MacReiver, gets her first sexy spanking.

But wait! What's the story about? Inquiring minds want to know.

Scotland, 1766.

Edgar, Laird MacReiver, has never regretted his decision to wed Isobel, daughter of Clan Kilburn’s laird, until she bites his tongue and drinks his blood. Still, he's determined to bridle the wild child of the infamous vampire clan by any means necessary, including bondage and discipline.

But are some women impossible to tame? 

And here's that heavenly sound of palm on flesh:

The world became a bright blur as he grabbed her and flipped her over. She landed facedown, sprawled over his thighs, naked buttocks thrust into the air as though they were presented to him.

She squirmed. “This is…very unbecoming.”

“Then ‘tis suitable, for you have behaved in an unbecoming way.” He swatted her rump.

“Edgar, ye-ye’re hitting me.”

“I’m spanking your lovely arse, darling.”

There's more--a lot more. Score your copy here:

This is a blog hop. Find other authors' spanking snippets here:
http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com 

Be Tempted by "Temptation in Tartan" (#MFRWAuthor #MFRWHooks @MFRW_ORG #vampires)

Check out one of my more popular books, Temptation in Tartan. This book sat on the ARE bestseller list for a week! 

Stop! You cry. What’s it about?

Okay—here’s the blurbage:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new

young Laird would lack his ancestors' ferocity.

She was wrong.

And now, here’s the excerpt:

Edinburgh, 1747

He inclined his head toward her. His lips were carved marble in the moon’s silver rays. “Ye desire me, do ye not?”

“Desire isn’t enough.” She’d desired William, and her marriage bed had been either empty of her husband or the scene of brief trysts devoid of pleasure. She wouldn’t be seduced by a handsome stranger. What for?

“Please.” He asked, but then he took. His mouth felt cool on hers but with a touch of fire beneath...

There's more, of course...a lot more!

If you like what you read, buy it here in digital:

http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html

This is a blog hop! Find other talented authors' excerpts here:

http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com/

Can a Vamp and a Van Helsing Fall in Love? Find out in Blood Is Thicker by Suz deMello (@MFRW_ORG #MFRWAuthor #vampire #Vampireromance)

It's said that opposites attract...is that so?

A century-old vampire, Rama uses the name Hestia White and works as a private investigator in a small coastal town in northern California. If a few bad guys disappear on her watch, no one cares...until John van Helsing shows up, interfering in her case and her life.

Decide for yourself if this mismatched couple can make it in My Sexy Saturday's seven paragraphs:

The detective met my gaze without falter.  “I could arrest you for loitering.”  He leaned closer, partway into my window.  “Take you in.  Lock you up.”

“Oooh, handcuffs.”  I shivered theatrically.

            

“Actually, Ms. White, we’re on the job.”  His voice had gone crisp and businesslike.

            

“Actually, Detective Whoever, so am I.”  I flipped open my wallet to flash my P.I. license. “Hey, I’ve shown you mine, so why don’t you show me yours?”

            

I’d teased out a reluctant smile, one that reached deep inside to heat me from my brain to my box.  Yes, that box.  I was surprised.  Mortals don’t usually turn me on. 

            

He reached for his wallet to show me his shield and I.D.  John van Helsing.  A tremor ran through me, ruffling the tiny hairs on my nape and my arms.  Was it chance that this detective bore the name of the most famous enemy of my kind?

            

“John-boy,” I said with phony delight.

Like what you read? Get the book here:

This is a blog hop--find other authors' sexy snippets www.mysexysaturday.blogspot.com

And They Lived Happily Ever After... what happened to the H&H of Temptation in Tartan? (#MySexySaturday @MFRW_ORG @Scottishromance #outlander)

The lovely folk hosting the weekly blog hop, My Sexy Saturday, have provided an interesting assignment today--what happens after THE END?

In the case of a series, favorite characters can reappear to show us that they indeed enjoyed the happily ever after life promised in a prior book.

And so it is with Lydia and Kieran of Temptation in Tartan. Here's the blurb:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors' ferocity.

She was wrong.

****

And you may remember that they appeared prominently in the sequel, Desire in Tartan.

Here’s a little snippet to show that they maintained their loving, sexy relationship even though they’d had four children:

On Hogmanay morn, Alice stood in the hall and received a bundle of blankets

cocooning the slumbering Marian, destined to sleep in her light wooden cradle placed in the nursery. Then Lydia closed the bedroom door and firmly locked it. She turned to Kieran with a smile, shedding her dressing gown as she scurried on bare feet back to bed.

He reached for her bouncing breasts and latched onto the nearest one,

suckling deeply. She wrapped her hands around his head and buried her fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp with gentle fingertips.

“Ummm.” Still sucking her nipple, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her down onto their bed, where he happily buried his head between her breasts. She was still nursing Marian, and they were large, firm globes, absolutely perfect. She tasted sweeter than usual, too.

He raised his head. Lydia lay back on the pillows, smiling. She lifted her arms and grasped the headboard. Stretching, she arched her back and lifted her breasts even higher. He took the unspoken hint and rose, strolling to her dresser. Taking a strip of the worn linen that the clan used as towels, he turned and put on a stern expression.

She gave a slight gasp.

“Aye,” he said. Returning, he laced the cloth through the headboard’s slats and around her wrists, pinning them securely above her head. “Yer mine, now. All mine. Mine to use as I will.” He tweaked her nipple, then gave it a pinch.

This time her gasp was real.

If you like what you read, find Kier and Lydia's story in these books:

http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html

http://www.ellorascave.com/desire-in-tartan.html

http://www.ellorascave.com/bridling-his-vampire.html

This is a blog hop! Find other sexy snippets here:

http://www.mysexysaturday.blogspot.com