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What Gets Us There?

“If you do your part, I guarantee I’ll get you there.”

 

That’s Wolf Jennings’ motto. And to some degree, it’s the theme of my story In Training, Anyone who knows me knows that I love spending time in the gym. For me, it’s been a major life-changing experience, one I thoroughly enjoy. One of the reasons I do enjoy it is because I consider a workout a creative process. I know how to put together a routine for myself with any equipment or with none at all. But I didn’t always, and I didn’t always love it either. I suppose that’s a part of the reason why the big question of my story In Training, from the fabulous British Bad Boys Anthology, is what does it take to get you there? What inspires you enough to make you pull out all the stops and totally go for … well for anything that really matters?

 

As far as getting fit goes, my answer was that I was losing strength, gaining weight and stress from writing four novels in one year was doing a real number on me. Mr. Grace kept nagging me to get to the gym and get a trainer. For a long time I ignored him, but one too many panic attacks in the middle of the night finally made the decision for me. I got a trainer. I figured if I had to pay, I’d make the commitment. In the beginning I paid someone twice a week, and I kept the commitment.

 

It didn’t take long to discover that not only was I feeling better, calmer, but I really enjoyed it. That was four years ago. Now I do it as much because I love it as because I love the benefits. That being the case, it’s not surprising that my heroine, PR guru Lauren Michaels, has to find her own reason for pushing herself. A gym is the last place she wants to be, but her boss has just made her the ‘get fit’ star in a reality fitness show with bad boy personal trainer, Wolf Jennings, who will get her there even if he has to drag her kicking and screaming. At least that’s his plan. But it’s only when she finds her reason to push that Lauren decides she really wants to “get there,” and she wants to do it with Wolf Jennings. Here’s a little excerpt.

 

British Bad Boys Box Set Blurb:

Indulge yourself with this boxed set of stories written by bestselling and award-winning British romance authors. No one knows British bad boys better than they do!

Come and spend time with a dirty-talking London tattoo artist, a Scottish bad boy, a British gangster who won’t take no for an answer, and MORE! These men are all hotter than hell and have accents to die for. Whatever your desire, you’ll find it within these pages.

Packed full of brand new standalone, steamy stories with no cliff-hangers. With happily-ever-afters guaranteed, you won’t want to miss out on this limited collection, available for a short time only!

In Training Blurb:

Getting fit on reality TV is PR guru, Lauren Michael’s, brainchild for gym equipment and fitness company Physicality, Inc. The brilliant PR stunt involves one brave volunteer who wants to be fit badly enough to submit to the not so tender training techniques of personal trainer, Wolf Jennings, whose successful, but non-conventional, methods would make a drill sergeant look like a fluff ball. But when CEO and owner of Physicality, Inc, Claire Amos, decides her PR ace in the hole needs to walk the talk , Lauren finds herself between a kettle bell and a hard place … er a hard trainer. That’s nightmare enough, but for six weeks, 24/7 the explosive chemistry between the two will be sweated out live on camera for the whole world to see. What could possibly go wrong?

 

Wanna Bet? In Training Excerpt:

“On your knees, Michaels! Do it on your knees. You can’t do a full press-up until we strengthen those spaghetti arms. Do it like this.” He demonstrated the modified press-up. “Now I want you to do as many as you can in thirty seconds.” While thirty seconds lasted forever, as many press-ups as Lauren could do didn’t take long at all before she fell to the mat with her arms trembling. “Damn it Michaels, you gotta be willing to push yourself. I can’t do it for you.” He reset his timer. “Do it again.”

 

“Well this isn’t an auspicious beginning, Misty,” Del Allan said as they observed the training session going on in the gym below. “As much as I admire Claire Amos for believing her people should walk the talk, it’s clear to me that Lauren Michaels’ heart just isn’t in it. One has to wonder why the waste of time, energy and money for someone who doesn’t want to be here when there are so many who really do. I’ve said it before, I hope Physicality has a back-up plan because I’m betting Lauren Michaels won’t make it to the end of the week.”

 

“The real question, Del, is not whether Wolf Jennings can ‘get someone there,’ but whether he can motivate someone to want him to. Certainly this is a world away from what Lauren is used to, and apparently she didn’t know she’d be participating until twenty-four hours before.”

 

It was near the end of the fourth day when Lauren finally broke. “I can’t do any more,” she gasped after what seemed like miles of lunge walking back and forth across the gym with a dumb bell in each hand — dumb bells that got heavier with each step. “I need the hot tub. When do I get to use the hot tub?”

“When you’ve earned it,” Jennings growled. “Now do it again.”

“I hate you,” she forced the words out, no longer caring if the ever-present cameras picked up her remark or not. She reckoned that would be one more reason for the ‘sack Lauren and hire me’ faction to tweet nasty things about her. It’s not as if she wouldn’t trade places with them in a heartbeat.

“I’m not here for you to like,” came the reply. “Keep your back straight, shoulders back. Head up!”

She was halfway across the gym when one of the dumb bells slipped from her sweaty fingers, hit the floor with a loud crash, and she tripped over it doing into a belly flop in the middle of the gym.

“Get up. Keep going,” Wolf yelled, jogging effortlessly to her side. “Don’t be a wimp, Michaels. Finish it. I don’t train babies. Stop whinging and keep going.”

“I hate you.” This time she all but yelled it as she hefted the sweaty dumb bell and forced her way forward a couple more steps before she dropped the weight again — this time on her foot. It was only a glancing blow. She jerked away just in time, but it was enough. It was fucking enough! She dropped the other weight next to its fallen compadre and stormed back across the gym.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He said, “You’re not done yet.”

“Oh yes I am.” She grabbed up her sports drink and her towel.

“What? Are you a quitter, Michaels?” Jennings stepped in front of her effectively blocking her way, “Is that it?”

“What I am is sick of you yelling at me, sick of you treating me like a sub-human.” She hadn’t planned it, but when he didn’t move, it just happened. A quick twist of the lid on her sports drink and she let it fly. Her aim was true, hitting Jennings in the face with a shower of bright orange Lukozade. Then she stomped off toward her room. She hadn’t expected him to follow her, but then there were a lot of things she hadn’t expected about the man she’d met at the pub less than a week ago.

Legs still screaming from the workout, she took the stairs two at a time with him gaining on her fast. At the top, he called after her. “They’re taking bets on how soon you’ll quit. Did you know that, Michaels?”

She stopped, dead in her tracks, as though she were suddenly frozen to the spot. For a second she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and headed back toward the stairs, stopping in front of him to meet his cold glare. “Then they’ll lose.”

Fucking hell! Did she just say that? Surely she didn’t mean it. She would do almost anything to get out of this chamber of horrors, and yet here she was marching back downstairs, picking up the goddamned dumb bells, taking a deep breath and willing her legs to move forward. When she got to the end, instead of stopping, she gave Jennings a defiant glare, from where he now stood at the foot of the stairs, then she turned and headed back across. Somewhere a long way off, she could hear gasps and chatter from Wolf’s mezzanine fan club, but it didn’t matter. The world around her narrowed to the in and out drag of her breath, the pain in her quads and the slow step and lunge, step and lunge, that pulled her forward.

At the end, she dropped the dumb bells and bent over gasping, eyes clenched shut, hands on her knees. When at last she had the strength to stand up, she was surprised to find him next to, hair still dewed in orange. He handed her a bottle of water and a towel. While she drank, he wiped his face on his shirt.

She didn’t look at him, she was still battling the urge to cry. She knew all eyes were on her. After the drama she was now embarrassed to have caused, that was a given. But it was only Wolf Jenning’s eyes she felt in ways that were somehow even more intimate than his kiss at the pub. At last she handed him back the bottle and struggled to meet his gaze.

“That’s better,” he said. “Now drop and give me ten. Pull a stunt like that again and I’ll shove you on the treadmill till your Reeboks wear out.”

She did as he ordered, counting each press-up out loud and hardly feeling the effort, dazed as she was by what had just happened.

 

Buy Links:

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Amazon US
Amazon AU
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The Collared Collection Shameless Selfie: Part 2

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Aaaaand! As promised, this weekend is part two of The Collared Collection double whammy Shameless Selfie. This is weekend two in which I’m shamelessly promoting two books at once — that’s right, I’m promoting The Collared Collection, which is a fabulous two-book box set of kinky Ks! Kay Jaybee’s fabulous novel, The Voyeur is cover to cover, cheek to cheek with my novel, The Pet Shop. Both of us agree that while these two novels are among our favourite erotic efforts, they don’t exactly fit in anywhere else, and yet, together side by side, the do quite nicely. This week, I’m very happy to share with you a sizzler from my novel, The Pet Shop. Enjoy!

(If you missed last week’s Shameless Selfie featuring a steamy except from Kay Jaybee, don’t fret. Here’s the link)

The Collared Collection Blurb:

The Collared Collection is a two novel boxed set from the pens of multi-award winning erotica writers, K D Grace
and Kay Jaybee.

In the Voyeur by Kay Jaybee, wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of 13 fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite BDSM club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff – his personal assistant, Anya Grant, and his housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy, Fantasy 13, can take place. But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does Bridge’s gentleman’s club, Anya’s previous employer and a place she was delighted to escape from, have over Mark?

In order to find out, the girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they had left behind them all over again.

In The Pet Shop by K D Grace, in appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a pet, a human pet. The mischievous Tino comes straight from The Pet Shop complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, it’s extremely addicting. Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

 

Available from Amazon (universal link)http://mybook.to/collaredcollection

 

Pets Don’t like to Eat Alone Excerpt from The Pet Shop:

Pets don’t like to eat alone. They prefer to sit on the floor by the table next to their keeper’s chair, where they enjoy being hand-fed. If this is not possible, place food in a bowl next to the water dish. Make sure meat is always cut into bite-sized chunks.

collared-bundle-copyNote: The former is preferable, as most Pets and Pet keepers find sharing a meal in this fashion very enjoyable and a part of their bonding experience.

The manual was right. Once she got the hang of offering Tino choice morsels in her open hand, the laving of his velvety wet tongue, the slight nipping of teeth and curling of lips was lovely. He sat on his haunches, once again fully erect, resting his head on her naked thigh in between bites. If she hadn‟t been ravenous, she would have never been able to concentrate on eating. He was as happy to nibble the mushrooms and tomatoes as he was the bacon and eggs. The toast with honey forced him to lick the sweet stickiness off the tips of her fingers, even occasionally off her thigh when her efforts were clumsy with the excitement of having such an exquisite creature eating from her hand.

She’d had a similar sense of excitement the first time a horse had taken a sugar lump from her hand. That something so powerful, something potentially wild and dangerous had allowed itself to be fed by her was an exhilarating experience. At present, the magnificent beast on the floor insinuated himself a little closer to her with each bite, and she was pretty sure this wild animal had more than food in mind.

Tino scooted and wriggled himself until, at last, he sat between her legs, his humid breath warming her mons.

With each morsel of food, he insinuated his waiting face a little closer to her pussy until her open palm with its offered tidbit was practically resting against her pubis. When a particularly sticky morsel of toast ended up on the chair between her legs, he carefully licked up every bit from the chair, and then he continued lapping his way right on up between her legs.

She caught her breath with a little whimper and a jerk. The bite of toast she was about to offer slipped from her hand onto her belly. Tino wasn‟t bothered. He simply squeezed in between the table and her body, forcing her chair back just enough that he could nibble and lick the toast and honey from her tightening abdominal muscles. That done, he picked up where he’d left off, nibbling and licking between her pouting labia.

Fascinated and aroused by his eating habits, she grabbed a handful of egg and wiped it across her breasts and down her stomach, licking the remains from her fingers, feeling a bit animal herself. He raised his head again and worked his way up her belly nibbling scrambled eggs as he went, pushing her chair back farther and farther from the table.

She gave up on any semblance of proper table etiquette and slid onto the floor next to him. She grabbed the plate from the table on her way down, shoving a handful of egg into her own mouth before smearing more egg and a bit of tomato across her breasts and belly. Lying back she let Tino nibble and lap his breakfast off her body until she was writhing and grinding on the floor beneath his enthusiastic tongue.

He surprised her by taking a rasher of bacon from the plate and offering it to her, mouth to mouth. It was almost like a porn version of Lady and the Tramp as they gnawed and nibbled their way to each other’s mouth, tongues lapping and lips smacking the salty savoury taste of the meat.

She plucked a nice plump mushroom from the plate. It reminded her of the tip of a cock as she eased it between her slippery folds far enough that Tino had to work to get it out.

But Tino didn’t mind working for his breakfast. And by the time he had extricated the mushroom, she was completely convinced his tongue was prehensile. His face glistening with her juices, the mushroom pressed daintily between his lips, he slid up her sticky body and offered her the morsel with its unique sauce of their lovemaking. Together they gulped down the tangy fungus between gasps for breath, breath which seemed to be harder and harder to get as their meal continued.

 

 

 

 

A Collared Collection Shameless Selfie: Part 1

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Oh yes! You’re getting a double whammy Shameless Selfie Weekend this time because I’m shamelessly promoting two books at once — that’s right, I’m promoting The Collared Collection, which is a fabulous two-book box set of kinky Ks! Kay Jaybee’s fabulous novel, The Voyeur is cover to cover, cheek to cheek with my novel, The Pet Shop. Both of us agree that while these two novels are among our favourite erotic efforts, they don’t exactly fit in anywhere else, and yet, together side by side, the do quite nicely. This week, I’m very happy to share with you a delicious excerpt from Kay Jaybee’s The Voyeur. Here’s an excerpt from the very beginning of The Voyeur to whet your appetite… Enjoy!

 

The Collared Collection Blurb:

The Collared Collection is a two novel boxed set from the pens of multi-award winning erotica writers, K D Grace and Kay Jaybee.

In the Voyeur by Kay Jaybee, wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of 13 fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite BDSM club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff – his personal assistant, Anya Grant, and his housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy, Fantasy 13, can take place. But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does Bridge’s gentleman’s club, Anya’s previous employer and a place she was delighted to escape from, have over Mark?

In order to find out, the girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they had left behind them all over again.

In The Pet Shop by K D Grace, in appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a pet, a human pet. The mischievous Tino comes straight from The Pet Shop complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, it’s extremely addicting. Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

 

 

Available from Amazon (universal link)http://mybook.to/collaredcollection

His evening meal complete, Mark sat back, contentedly sipping his cup of strong black coffee. Pulling a small, battered notebook from his pocket, he read thoughtfully for a moment. His self-restraint, although immense, was beginning to run out. It was time for them to progress to the end of the list. Pressing the intercom button, Mark summoned his personal assistant, Anya, and his housekeeper, Clara, to the dining room.

collared-bundle-copyThe women arrived swiftly, both aware of the importance of not keeping Mark waiting. Standing on the opposite side of the highly polished dining room table, his employees braced themselves for the coming instructions.

‘I have decided that we will take a trip to Discreet this evening. We will turn our attention to the next fantasy on my list. Fantasy 12.’ Mark’s cool blue eyes deliberately weighed up the reaction of his staff as he delivered his news.

Discreet was the reason that Mark spent such a large proportion of his time in his London flat, rather than in his mini-mansion in Oxfordshire, where his software business was based. It was only at Discreet, the most exclusive of the city’s BDSM clubs, that his increasingly imaginative fantasies could be publically appreciated; most of which involved the observation of other people’s erotic aspirations. Mark Parker was the ultimate voyeur.

Trying hard not to exchange glances with her colleague, Anya could sense the stiffening of Clara’s body as they listened to their boss. She knew that Clara’s mind, like her own, would already be racing; madly trying to guess what Mark’s latest erotic scenario would involve. Having survived fantasies one to eleven, they already understood the nature of the challenges they were likely to experience during the evening that loomed ominously ahead.

‘Anya, you will be less delighted than Clara, perhaps, when I tell you that this trip is intended as a lesson for you; possibly a punishment.’

Forgetting herself for a second, the PA lifted her head and stared Mark squarely in the face.

His lips smiled; his eyes, however, did not. ‘You wonder why? Why, when you are forever questioning my instructions?’

‘But Mark, I …’ Anya stopped talking, aware that by asking why she was simply proving his point. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath her white shirt, as her employer continued to stare at her.

‘Oh my dear Anya, you may never question me out loud.’ Mark’s voice was velvety soft, yet the potential danger of disagreeing with him shone in his eyes. ‘But I know that you constantly query my actions by your reaction to them. Subconscious or not, it has to stop.’

Anya couldn’t believe it; she had always been so dutiful. The perfect assistant. The willing slave. How could Mark know she privately questioned her existence; her choice at being here with him and Clara, living this less than “ordinary” existence?

Clara was hovering uncomfortably next to Anya as Mark came closer. ‘Tonight,’ he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, ‘you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task from our list, girls?’

They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten his questions were rhetorical.

Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write “Fantasy 1”, “Fantasy 2” and so on, all the way down – the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words “Fantasy 13”. The first 11 rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.

‘Only two more tasks to go.’

This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other, exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.

Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.

Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be both more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it. They also longed for it. Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs closer and closer to his own. Making them as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied Mark on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.

A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. ‘You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.’ Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.

As she considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, Anya privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 might not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than she’d survived before. She could handle this. They both could – no problem.

Then Anya saw her outfit.

Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar…

 

 

Release Day for the Complete Lakeland Witches Box Set!

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YAY! Today’s the day I’ve waited for a long while! Today is the official release day for the Lakeland Witches Box Set, and it’s delightful to see all my witches and their stories together in one yummy set. If you’re looking for a nice autumn binge-read, something perfect for the crisp evenings with mulled wine in front of a crackling fire, this is it!

When the mist descends on the high fells of the English Lake District, danger lurks. Demons, witches, ghosts and more gravitate to the powerful Elemental Coven – some as friends and allies, some as deadly enemies. The battle in the mist is a battle for power and love and lust, but most of all, for Tara Stone and the Lakeland Witches, it’s a battle for survival.

At last the entire Lakeland Witches Saga is available in a box set. One giant chilling, sizzling, dark and lusty binge read just in time for a Halloween Treat.

 

Sex is magic for the Elemental Coven — powerful magic. But will it be enough to defeat the hate-driven demon determined to destroy them with the very magic of their own lust?

 

Body Temperature and Rising Book: 1 of the Lakeland Witches Series

 

American transplant to the Lake District, MARIE WARREN, didn’t know she could unleash demons and enflesh ghosts until a voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with the charming ghost, ANDERSON, and night visits from a demon. To help her cope with her embarrassing and dangerous new abilities, Anderson brings her to the ELEMENTALS, a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that temporarily allows needy ghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

 

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and lakeland-witch-boxsetwill stop at nothing to destroy all she holds dear. Marie and her landlord, the reluctant young farmer, TIM MERIWETHER, are at the top of his list. Marie and Tim must learn to wield coven magic and the numinous power of their lust to stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and more innocent people die.

 

Riding the Ether: Book 2 of the Lakeland Witches Series

 

Cassandra Larkin keeps her ravenous and dangerous sexual appetite secret until she seduces Anderson in the mysterious void of the Ether.  Anderson is the sexy, insatiable ghost who can give her exactly what she needs.

But sex is dangerous in a place like the Ether…

 

When the treacherous demon, Deacon, discovers the truth about the origin of Cassandra’s powerful lust, he plots to use her sex magic for revenge on Tara Stone and the Elemental Coven, who practice their own brand of sex magic.

Cassandra must embrace the lust and sexuality she fears and learn to use its power. Will she stand with Anderson, Tara, and the Elemental Coven against Deacon’s wrath or suffer the loss of friendship, magic and love?

 

Elemental Fire: Book 3 of the Lakeland Witches Series

 

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

 

Demon Interrupted: Book 4 of the Lakeland Witches Seriescastlerigg_stone_circle1

 

What secrets does a man have that would cause him to chooses to live under a spell that magically erased his past? When that spell is broken Ferris Ryder must choose to remember all that he was, all that he has done and all that drove him to willingly forget. If he chooses not to remember, the consequences will be dire for himself and the Elemental Coven, who are now his family.

 

Is the mysterious Elaine, who both fears and desires Ferris, a ghost with a past all her own, or merely a figment of his fevered dreams as he struggles against time to remember the past he fears or destroy the very people for whom he chose to forget.

 

 Buy the Lakeland Witches Box Set Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Amazon DE

 

 

 

Shameless Selfie On the Fells with the Demons

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As most of you know, I’m very excited about the release of the entire Lakeland Witches series in a box set! While the release date isn’t until the 29th of October, you can preorder the Lakeland Witches Box Set now and get the jump on everyone else.  Plus there’s a delicious giveaway for a £20/$30 Amazon gift card going on until then. Follow the GIVEAWAY LINK and find out how you can enter in the fun.

And with demons and witches and ghosts in mind, it’s Shameless Selfie time again, and of course I’m going to take you back to the delicious mists of the Lakeland Fells. Hubby and I had a good taste of navigating in heavy mist the last time we were there, and I actually got a couple of piccies, so it’s rather appropriate that I give you a very juicy snippet from the final book of the Lakeland Witches Series, Demon Interrupted. Enjoy!

 

 

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Demon Interrupted Blurb:

What secrets does a man have that would cause him to chooses to live under a spell that magically erased his past? When that spell is broken Ferris Ryder must choose to remember all that he was, all that he has done and all that drove him to willingly forget. If he chooses not to remember, the consequences will be dire for himself and the Elemental Coven, who are now his family.

Is the mysterious Elaine, who both fears and desires Ferris, a ghost with a past all her own, or merely a figment of his fevered dreams as he struggles against time to remember the past he fears or destroy the very people for whom he chose to forget.

 

Demon Interrupted Excerpt: The Demon Meets the Witch:

‘What the hell?’ Ferris roared like an angry beast as he fought his way out of a blackberry bramble to land hard with his naked arse on the rocky ground. The thick summer night effervesced with the tingle of strong magic, and the sting and bite of the bramble were evidence that he had been called, very unceremoniously, into physical form, but who would have treated him with such disrespect? And other than Lucia, the Fire Demon, and the demon who now possessed that evil aberration spawned in the Americas — what was it he called himself Deacon — there were few who could have done such a thing. Besides, what would either of them want with him? And certainly it behoved them to treat him with a little more respect than to up-end him bare-arsed and bleeding in a thicket. Whoever had done it, when he found them, they would be sorry for humiliating him so. He would make certain that they …

The yelp of a female voice put a halt to thoughts of punishing the transgressor. As he turned, the dance of firelight dazzling his eyes made him think for a moment that it was Lucia, who had summoned him. The Fire Demon’s sense of humour was evil at best. But the flames were nothing more than a tiny blaze set in an insignificant fire pit. And then he saw her. Beyond the blaze the woman stood as naked as he was with lustrous dark hair that hung down her back and over the swell of her breasts. He would not have imagined it to be possible, but the slender woman, body burnished golden in the firelight was the source of the magic that had summoned him.

xcite1demon-interruptededit‘What do you want, little girl, and why have you called me in such an uncivilised manner?’ He said, making his voice as thunderous as possible and pulling the shadows around him like a cape because it lent him at least a little of the dignity she had stolen from him.

But she did not cower. Instead she squared her shoulders and stood to her full height, which, as with most mortal women, was not significant compared to his. ‘I am no little girl, Rider, and I have summoned you to do my bidding.’

Though he made no effort to hold back the roar of his laughter, the mortal did not so much as cringe. ‘You summoned me to do your bidding, little one? You are either very brave or very stupid.’ With a sudden flick of his wrist the wind rose and swirled around her, whipping her hair across her face and then back over her shoulders, and he saw that she was, indeed, no little girl. Her breasts were in the full bloom of womanhood crowned by roseate nipples that peaked in the cool kiss of the wind he had summoned. His cock rose in response to her, and for the first time since his unceremonious arrival, he was pleased to be in physical form. This human, this mortal woman was delicate of build, skin as pale as the finest porcelain, skin that seemed lit from within, skin that contrasted with hair that was night itself and eyes that were like a moonless sky. Her hips flared away from her center as though they hugged the soft pillowing of dark curls that caressed her womanhood, and she stood unladylike, with her feet set wide apart on the ground so that even his tempest did not unbalance her.

‘I am neither brave nor stupid,’ she said, when the wind settled enough that she could catch her breath to speak. ‘I am without recourse.’

He moved closer to her, so that the fire did not interfere with his vision of her, and still she did not flinch. ‘You must be desperate, indeed, if you would summon a Soul Rider to do your bidding.’

She ignored his statement. ‘You have it within your power to visit horrible hallucinations upon those who displease you, do you not? It is within your power to drive them form their sanity, and it is said that you have power even to drive them to their death. Is that not so?’

He moved still closer, until he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest that belied the nerves she hid so well, until he could feel her warm breath against the body that now held his essence. ‘Shall I demonstrate that of which I am capable upon you, little one?’ As he reached for her, she stepped back.

‘I do not need your demonstration, Rider. I only need you to use those powers in my service.’

This time he stepped close enough that she had to bend her slender neck back as far as she could to look up into his lakeland-witch-boxset
eyes. ‘And might I ask what’s in it for me?’

‘Anything.’ Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time he felt the passion of her request with the intensity of the powerful magic she had just performed and what that magic had cost her. And was that passion tinged with more than a hint of despair? ‘Anything you ask.’

‘And if you are the payment I demand?’

Her eyelids fluttered and her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘As I have said. Anything you ask.’

That she did not frighten easily, that she was braver than most men who had, ultimately, cowered before him made him want to taste her fear all the more. ‘Then I shall have you.’ He pulled her to him and took her mouth, not expecting the full pout of her lips to part for him, not expecting her body to relax and soften into his embrace nor her arms to encircle his neck. As his tongue flicked over hers, he was stunned to find it was not fear he tasted; it was power, exhilaration, need, mixed again with a heavy patina of desperation, and all of those tastes in this woman made him want her even more. His cock stretched hard, pressed against the tensing muscles of her belly. The pillowed press of her breasts against him in her battle for breath made him want to take more of her breath, so that the pumping of her lungs would keep her fullness rising and falling and nestling against him.

He unclenched her fingers from behind his neck and guided her hand down between them, down to rest on his cock. ‘It has been long since I have worn flesh. My need is nearly beyond my control. It may well be that I would split your fragile frame in two, little girl.’

Before the words were off his tongue, she circled his hardness with slender, but strong fingers, and began to stroke the length of him, whispering in his ear. ‘I told you, whatever you asked, and I am not nearly so fragile as you might think.’ But then the brazen child did something he could have never anticipated. She stepped out of his embrace, back just enough that he could not easily touch her. ‘But I am not yours for the taking until you have done my bidding, Rider. Then split me in two, you may, or in a thousand pieces if it please you.’

He growled his frustration, and his cock bucked against his belly. ‘I do not need your permission to take you, little one.’ He took a menacing step closer to her, and she stepped back again until she stood flush with the bramble behind her. ‘Nor do I need to do your bidding. After all, your invitation was not very polite, now was it?’

‘There was no invitation, Demon. There was a summoning and a bargain to be struck.’

‘Again, I will ask you why should I not take what I want now rather than wait. I am the one who –’

His words died in his throat as her power buzzed over him, a bolt of lightning and a touch of silk and he sucked breath to keep from humiliating himself as the content of his balls threatened to spill at her feet. Though in truth, he was not sure that perhaps it was his very life force that this woman, this witch threatened to coax from his cock with her magic. He raised his hands, palms facing her, in a gesture of peace. ‘Tell me then, what is it you want, little witch.’

She studied him for a moment with eyes bottomless as the night sky. ‘I want you to ride the soul of my enemy. Make him suffer long and hard, make him pay for what he has done. If this you do for me, then I am yours to do with what you will.’

‘Are you sure this is a price you can afford to pay, little witch?’ With a move that was no more human than he was, he pulled her into his arms and fisted her thick mane of soft hair and shoved it off her shoulders, seeking to admire the delicacy of the mortal form, as one did art in a gallery — beautiful creations that were far too fragile for any practical purpose. Their fragility in itself a part of their attraction, and his ability to break them somehow made them even more valuable to him. With his eyes shut, he tracked the beat of her pulse to the soft spot on her throat, then bent to nuzzle her there, and just as she moaned a sigh, he bit her in that spot against the thud, thud, thud of her tenuous life force.

At first he thought the near sob that breeched her lips was a release of her pleasure, disappointingly easy, he thought. It was as he opened his eyes that he saw the bruises on her neck, green and angry in the dance of the flames, and he realised the sob had been one of pain. Though he was no fire demon, the thought of his little witch — for that is how he thought of her now, as his possession — the thought of her in pain kindled a strange inferno in his belly that burned with the same rage he would have felt if someone had so marred the Mona Lisa’s perfection. ‘Who did this to you?’ Even as he spoke, he noticed other bruises on her arms, on her hips … on the insides of her thighs. ‘Who did this to you,’ he growled.

She shoved her way free from his embrace and stumbled backward nearly falling before she caught herself. He could taste the rage rolling off her, overpowering the desperation, overpowering the longing, overpowering all else to the point that it was he who was rendered breathless by it. ‘The one whose soul I wish you to ride, the one who I seek revenge upon. He did this to me and more than even your demon eyes can ever see. He took everything from me, and I want him to pay! I want him to pay!’

 

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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