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I Survived a Tour of Wade’s Dungeon!

Interviewing WadeWith all the excitement of launch weekend and with the Interviewing Wade Blog Tour & Giveaway beginning today, I threw caution to the wind and asked Wade for a tour of the Dungeon, and I was totally surprised when he agreed. And it didn’t take me long to realize that this tour might not be for the faint of heart.

For those of you who don’t know, the Dungeon is the name Wade’s colleagues gave the basement and sub-basements of the Pneuma building, which became Wade’s domain. Though Pneuma Inc has a state of the art R&D wing, and employ some of the best minds in the world there, the real cutting edge stuff, the stuff that comes straight from Wade’s incredible mind, happens in the Dungeon. Over the years, what originally started out simply as a private place for Wade to work and do research evolved into so much more.

Wade meets me by the elevator in the Executive Suites of the Pneuma building where I’ve been chatting with Ellis Thorne and Dee Henning. He’s dressed in his usual hoodie and jeans and his hair is mussed. I smile to myself imagining how it got that way. He nods a greeting to Dee and Ellis then motions me to the elevator. ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

I know that Wade is uncomfortable about having people in the Dungeon and, until Carla came along, only Dee and Ellis had ever been into some of the more restricted areas, but the little smile that Ellis offers him and the slight nod that passes between them tells me that I’ve not violated Wade’s privacy too badly, and I know that, for Wade, saying ‘no’ is not a problem.

It seems like the elevator descends forever. The last two days I’ve entered the Dungeon through the sub-basement parking garage. ‘There’s a code,’ Wade says, as though he’s read my mind, ‘When it’s entered, the elevator goes directly between the Executive Offices and the Dungeon, no stops in between. I hate a crowded elevator, and I hate extra stops.’ Before the elevator reaches its destination, my ears have popped twice. ‘We’re quite a ways down,’ he says. ‘And the four levels of sub basements quite a ways farther.’

My pulse jumps at the mention of the sub-levels. ‘Will I see them?’

‘Not all of them,’ he answers, his jaw suddenly tight and his lips pressed in a thin line. Then he adds, ‘Even if I wanted to show it all to you, which I don’t, there isn’t enough time.’ He shrugs. ‘You’d have to overnight in the Suite, and even then … Well, some places are just off limits.’

Though I relish the idea of a night in the Suite, I have to admit, there are parts of Wade’s Dungeon that I’m not all that sure I really want to see.

The doors open with a whisper and we walk through a deserted reception area that I know is just for looks. Wade has no receptionist and no PA. Pretty much it’s invitation only to the Dungeon. As we pass through the reception area, he punches in a door code and I find myself in what I know is the main living area, and the only real public area. And yes, Wade really does live here. Still, writing about it, and actually seeing it up close and personal are two different things. The best way I can describe it is a cross between my grandmother’s kitchen, a 1950s diner, and romp through a flea market.

Carla is ensconced at an ancient Formica table with her laptop open. She greets me with a smile. ‘Sorry I can’t join you on the tour. I’m on a tight deadline for a story about sustainability, but Wade’s a great tour guide.’

He growls at her, and she blows him a kiss, then goes back to work. Teen Angel is playing on a jukebox that adds to the hamburger joint feel with its pastel lighting and its glass bubble top that shows off the 45s. A quick peek, and I see that there are selections all the way back to the 40s along with lots of classic rock and a few pop pieces as well. Next to it is a red Naugahyde stool with a heavy-bodied black phone from the 1950s that reminds me a bit of a kettle bell. ‘The land line,’ Wade says. ‘Doesn’t get used much, but Ellis insists I have one.’

On the wall above the stool is a black and white plastic cat clock, with numbers and hands on the exposed white belly. As the seconds tick, the tail swishes and the eyes roll from side to side. ‘You a cat person?’ I ask.

He shrugs. ‘I just liked the clock.’

The ratty Naugahyde and chrome sofa along the back wall must have been the colour of gray marble at one time, but it’s surface is rubbed clean from lots of butts sitting on it. In front of it is a battered oak coffee table that must weigh as much as a small car, and I can’t keep from thinking of Wade feeding Carla Chinese food on that couch. Best not think of that! ‘Garage sale?’ I nod to the couch.

‘From Ellis’ parent’s basement, believe it or not,’ he says. ‘Though some of this stuff is from garage sales and flea markets.’

‘I never would have expected you to frequent such places,’ I say.

‘Who knows what you’ll find there. And next to bowling with Clyde, I find a good flea market the next best thing for thinking and inspiration.’ He grabs a plastic glass from a small Formica counter and I watch as he fills it with ice from the kind of ice machine one would find in a hotel lobby. Then from a refrigerator that looks like it came straight from grandma’s kitchen, he pulls out a pitcher of iced tea fills the glass, slaps a plastic lid on it and stuff in a straw. ‘Your drink of choice, just like Dee’s if I’m not mistaken.’ He hands it to me, and I’m moved that he knew.

Carla watches as I drink deeply and moan my approval. ‘You’ll need fortification for this tour,’ she says. ‘We’re ordering Mexican for lunch after. You up for it?’

How can I refuse such an offer! Wade bends and kisses Carla on the cheek, then leads me into a long hallway. And I become very aware of the quirk of a man who could buy half of Portland without even batting an eye, but chooses to furnish his most personal spaces with flea-market hodge-podge and yet I can just see inside the first room we pass, a home cinema that would put any mall cinema I’ve ever been to to shame.

‘We’re watching X-Men First Class tonight if you want to join us,’ Wade says, taking in my view. ‘Stacie and Harris Walker will be here. You know them.’

‘Why Wade, you’re practically turning into a social butterfly,’ I tease.

He growls and leads me down to the Incident Room, and I’m suddenly speechless as he brings everything on line with several clicks on a random keyboard. The room is wall-to-wall flat-screen monitors the size of … well the size of walls. There are keyboards and electronics and a device that looks like a cross between a gas pump and an iron maiden. In spite of all the amazing tech around me, though, my eyes stray to the metal support beam in the middle of the room, with its hook at arm’s reach.

Before I can look away, he follows my gaze, and this time he growls louder. ‘We’re not going there, so don’t ask.’ His face is suddenly bright red and I’m sure mine is too. I can’t keep the picture of him and Carla out of my head, her there bound with her hands up over her hand and him … I catch my breath. ‘I wasn’t pleased about you writing that,’ he says to me. ‘I wasn’t at my best just then.’

I thought he was pretty damned amazing, but I don’t say that. ‘I didn’t mean to intrude on a private moment,’ I manage, wondering if I made a mistake in asking him to take me on this tour. What happened in the Incident Room is only one of the events that make this tour way more personal and invasive for me than it would be for anyone else.

‘Yes you did,’ he says. ‘You meant to do exactly that, and you did it over and over again.’

‘And you let me.’

For a moment we stand there in silence, with only the soft whisper of the air conditioning in the background, surrounded by technology that I know he has used to help the police and secret service agencies all over the world solve crimes. His genius is so much more than technical, though, and yet I am most moved by the sight of that metal support post and what happened there.

At last, his shoulders relax and the sigh that passes his lips seems loud in the quiet. ‘I did. You’re right.’ He runs a hand through his already mussed hair and looks around the room. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just not used to … to people knowing … stuff about me.’

‘Hey guys, Mexican just arrived.’ We both jump and turn to find Carla standing barefoot at the door. ‘I’m starving. Either come join me or delay at your own risk.’

Wade, still holding my gaze, takes a deep breath and offers a genuine smile. ‘I think we could both use a break.’ He motions me out into the hall. ‘Sustenance first, and then we finish the tour,’ his voice turns dangerous, ‘if you think you’re up for it.’

I can’t help but wonder if I am. I can’t help but wonder if either of us is.

 

The Interviewing Wade Blog Tour and Giveaway Begins today and I’m over at the fabulous L.C.
Wilkinson’s blog Do join us there!

 

Wade_teaser

 

For the next two weeks find Carla, Wade and me on these fabulous blogs! 

Mar 23   L. C. Wilkinson   http://lcwilkinson.com/

Mar 24   Jan Graham http://jangraham.blogspot.com/

Mar 25   Lynelle Clark http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/

Mar 26   Nice Ladies, Naughty Books http://niceladiesnaughtybooks.com/

Mar 27   Love Bites & Silk Ties http://www.lovebitessilkties.co.uk/

Mar 30   Books and Banter   http://locglin.blogspot.com

Mar 31   Case Sharidan   http://casesheridan.wordpress.com/

Apr 1   Lisabet Sarai http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Ap 2   Gale Stanley http://galestanley.blogspot.com/

Ap 3   Illustrious Illusions http://www.illustriousillusions.com/

 

INTERVIEWING WADE is an Executive Decision novel (Click Here for Book One | Book Two | Book Three)

The Executive Decisions Trilogy may be over, but the story continues. Intrepid reporter, Carla Flannery, wants to interview Wade Crittenden, the secretive creative genius behind Pneuma Inc. But when, against all odds, Wade actually agrees to the interview, Carla suspects ulterior motives.

Carla has made a lot of enemies in her work and when Wade discovers she’s being stalked, he agrees to the interview to keep her close and safe. As the situation turns deadly, lives and hearts are on the line, and the interview reveals far more about both than either ever expected.

 

Interviewing Wad is available from:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

 

Interviewing Wade Launch Day Celebratory Breakfast with Wade & Carla

Interviewing WadeIt’s the first day of spring! Flowers are blooming, birds are singing and, at long last, it’s launch day for Wade and Carla! I’ve been waiting for it, readers have been waiting for it and though, at first, Wade wasn’t keen on letting his story be known, thanks to Carla’s cajoling and teasing, he finally agreed. It’s totally true! Still waters do run deep, and the currents you don’t see beneath the surface can be very wild and dangerous indeed.

To celebrate, Wade has invited me to the Dungeon for breakfast. Carla’s cooking. Just so you know; both Wade and Carla are sort of … well … food Philistines. Wade has downloaded all the apps for his favorite take-out and delivery places, and he knows all the really good ones in and around Portland. Carla knows all the local drive-throughs and can eat just about any meal that can be ordered from a ‘to-go’ menu while driving in Portland traffic and doing an interview on her cell phone, but don’t tell her father that. He’s in the security business and wishes his daughter would be a little more safety-conscious. Since both Carla and Wade have the metabolism of mountain goats, I’m not expecting health food.

I find Carla in the kitchen of the Suite, dressed in jeans and a blue Portland State t-shirt, her hair caught up in a sloppy ponytail. She’s manning the toaster. Surrounded by half a dozen open boxes of various flavors of Pop Tarts. She smiled up at me and nearly misses a pair of Pop Tarts as they catapult into the air.

‘Hi K D! Congratulations! Help yourselves to the Pop Tarts.’ She nods to a platter near the microwave. ‘Those are already buttered. There are four different kinds, but I forgot what’s where. It’ll be a surprise.’ Then she adds, ‘I was going to make scrambled eggs and bacon, but I had a phone interview run long with someone on the East Coast for an article I’m doing on illegal cage fighting on the East Coast.

‘Don’t worry about the eggs, Carla’s the Pop Tart Queen,’ Wade says, coming up behind her and kissing her ear just as the coffee maker on the counter stops gurgling. He’s wearing his usual baggy black hoodie and faded jeans. ‘She puts butter on ‘em and melts it in the microwave. Excuse me, K D. I’m making coffee.’ He shoves his way past us to the steaming carafe and pulls out three enormous mugs with the Pheuma Inc logo from the cupboard. I watch in fascination as he rips open three packets of cocoa mix and dumps them into the cups. He notices I’m looking and offers a twitch of a smile. ‘It’s Carla’s recipe. Coffee and Cocoa together.’ As he slops coffee into each of the cups with one hand, he reaches a long arm up to the top shelf and pulls down a huge jar of Marshmallow Cream.

‘The Marshmallow Cream’s Wade’s idea,’ Carla says, watching him stir each cup and plop a mound the size of a snowball on top of the mixture. That done he hands us each one and nods to the table. Carla grabs the big platter of Pop Tarts ala Microwave and follows.

Once I’ve selected a very well buttered blueberry Pop Tart, and I can’t keep from smiling.

‘What?’ Wade says. ‘You were expecting eggs Benedict? You know we’re all busy around here.’

‘No!’ I reply. ‘This is exactly what I was expecting, and I can’t think of anything more appropriate than Pop Tarts and Chocolate Coffee to launch your book, Wade.’

Pop Tarts 2‘I can,’ Carla says. She disappears into the kitchen and returns with a huge bakery box. ‘Dee’s secretary, Sandra, brought these down for us, in honor of the occasion.’ She opens box to display some of the most succulent pastries I’ve ever seen, and some of the biggest, fattest chocolate éclairs on the planet. I can’t help it. I moan, and Wade and Carla both nod knowingly. ‘The éclairs, they’re perfect with the coffee,’ Wade says.

‘What could be better with chocolate and coffee than more chocolate and some whipped cream,’ Carla says. She takes a huge bite of her éclair, managing the suggestive spurt of whipped cream with a quick flick of her tongue.

I’m halfway through my éclair before I get up the courage to ask. ‘So, have you read the book yet?’

‘I have,’ Carla says. ‘She gives Wade a chocolatey kiss on the cheek. ‘Wade never reads anything that’s been written about him, but you know that.’

Before I can respond, he adds. ‘Carla’s reading it to me, though. It’s amazing I ever get anything done around her,’ he grumps. ‘She’s always hounding me to read the next chapter.’

Carla elbows him in the ribs, but I see the twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips, and I can’t keep from smiling back. ‘Thank you, Wade, for letting me write it.’

He’s trying hard not to smile now. ‘I figured I’d better let you have your fun, or you’d never leave me alone and let me get back to work. I’d like to finish the photovoltaic cell prototype before Christmas, you know.’ He shoves half a Pop Tart in his mouth.

I turn my attention to Carla, who is grazing her way through a luscious looking pastry filled with lemon cream. ‘And thank you. I know your part in the story was no easier than Wade’s, and I don’t mind telling you, you scared the hell out of me a few times.’

‘She’s good at that,’ Wade interjects, sliding a proprietary arm around her shoulders.

The blush is so visible up over her porcelain Celtic cheeks and in between the smattering of freckles. ‘I’m used to hard stories,’ she says. ‘I’m a journalist, remember?’ Then she changes the topic. ‘I want some chocolate milk. Anyone else want some chocolate milk?’

eclairI decline, but Wade is happy to take her up on her offer, pulling her down on his lap when she returns from the refrigerator and hands him a carton. I can’t keep from thinking how nice it is to see him so relaxed. She musses his dark hair, which just touches the collar of his hoodie, and he gives her a squeeze, then they both turn to me. ‘Good luck with the book, KD,’ she says. He nods.

Wade glances down at his watch. ‘I’ve asked Clyde open the bowling alley this morning. Thought maybe you’d like to celebrate with us over a couple of frames. You do bowl, don’t you?’

‘Not well,’ I reply, ‘but I’d love to join you anyway.’

‘Good,’ he says. ‘Finish your breakfast and I’ll tell Clyde to expect us.’

  *****

The Interviewing Wade Blog Tour and Giveaway Begins Monday, the 23rd on these fabulous blogs

 Mar 23   L. C. Wilkinson   http://lcwilkinson.com/

Mar 24   Jan Graham http://jangraham.blogspot.com/

Mar 25   Lynelle Clark http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/

Mar 26   Nice Ladies, Naughty Books http://niceladiesnaughtybooks.com/

Mar 27   Love Bites & Silk Ties http://www.lovebitessilkties.co.uk/

Mar 30   Books and Banter   http://locglin.blogspot.com/

Mar 31   Case Sharidan   http://casesheridan.wordpress.com/

Apr 1   Lisabet Sarai http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Ap 2   Gale Stanley http://galestanley.blogspot.com/

Ap 3   Illustrious Illusions http://www.illustriousillusions.com/

*****

INTERVIEWING WADE: An Executive Decision novel

(Click Here for Book One | Book Two | Book Three)

The Executive Decisions Trilogy may be over, but the story continues. Intrepid reporter, Carla Flannery, wants to interview Wade Crittenden, the secretive creative genius behind Pneuma Inc. But when, against all odds, Wade actually agrees to the interview, Carla suspects ulterior motives.

Carla has made a lot of enemies in her work and when Wade discovers she’s being stalked, he agrees to the interview to keep her close and safe. As the situation turns deadly, lives and hearts are on the line, and the interview reveals far more about both than either ever expected.

Excerpt:

Carla popped the last of her bacon into her mouth and spoke around it. ‘So tell me, is Fort Flannery as unassailable as my father assured me, or are we in need of an upgrade?’

He drained his glass of orange juice and pushed back from the table. ‘Your father did a good job. I didn’t have to do hardly anything.’

‘He’ll be glad to hear that,’ she said. ‘Sorry you had to waste your valuable time in the wee hours. I know how busy you are.’

‘Yes, well, it was on my mind. If you’ll let me see your Android, I’ll give it a little upgrade too.’

‘Will I be able to watch Russian porn on it?’ she asked.

‘Japanese and Chinese porn as well, if you like.’ There was that quirk of a smile that she really would love to eat right off his face.

‘And I’ll assume you’ve given it a test-drive.’

To her delight, the smile didn’t disappear, even though the blush was hot on those chiseled cheeks. ‘I’m my own best guinea pig.’

‘Wade Crittenden, that borders on too much information, but in the interest of consumer protection and all, I thank you.’ The blush grew, but the smile stayed put as she offered him a salute and went into her bedroom to get the device.

She returned to find that he’d shed his hoodie and was filling the sink with soapy water, his broad back mantling the counter like a giant bird of prey. For a second her stomach bottomed at the sight of Wade Crittenden doing dishes at her sink. She stood, Android crushed to her chest, feeling flushed and slightly off-balance. His t-shirt was a loose fit, misshapen and short in the back from too many washings for something that should have migrated to the rag drawer some time ago, and when he reached across the sink to add still more soap, the shirt rode up to reveal the slim line of his back and the muscles where his hips joined his torso just above the swell of his buttocks. The baggy jeans gave enough of an intimation of that swelling to leave Carla breathless and hot enough to want to throw off her own hoodie and splash herself with the soapy water in which he was nearly elbow-deep.

As though he sensed her watching, he turned, slopped water down the front of his shirt and onto his jeans and uttered a surprised curse.

Without thinking she rushed to his side, dropping the device on the table. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she managed, in a breathless gasp. ‘Sometimes I go for weeks without ever washing so much as a coffee cup.’ She stretched around him, grabbed for a dish towel and offered it to him instead of patting him dry herself, which was what she really wanted to do.

He reached for the towel, holding her gaze. ‘You cook for me, I do the cleanup for you. Fair’s fair.’ His hand slid into the cloth and around her fingers as he drew it to his chest. His breath caught, his lips parted as though to speak, and God help her, she couldn’t resist, she leaned into him on tippy-toe and planted a kiss firmly on his mouth. She only meant for it to be a friendly peck, a way of saying thanks for checking up on her and for doing the dishes, but his other hand, covered with soapy water, swooped in and grabbed the front of her hoodie reeling her to him. Then he curled his fingers in the tangle of her wild hair and cradled the back of her head, pulling her still further up on her toes. ‘Oh God,’ he whispered, his tongue darting deep, his lips, soft and hard and bruising all at the same time, meeting hers in a clash of wills and a heroic effort to get closer and deeper. ‘Oh God, Carla, why did you do that,’ he gasped against her mouth.

‘Just being friendly,’ she managed, before the tongue sparring got serious. He gave the towel a toss and yanked down the zipper of her hoodie, shoving it off onto the floor, his hands skimming her breasts in his efforts, thumbs lingering to rake her nipples that were already painful in their peaking. His jeans might have been loose, but they were not loose enough to disguise his erection, and he didn’t seem to care. Both hands slid to cup her bottom and he lifted her, settling her onto the kitchen table, pushing her legs apart with his knees and moving in between her thighs as she went to work on his fly.

‘I have lots of friends,’ he breathed. ‘None of them do that to me.’

‘How about this,’ she said biting his lower lip and sliding her hand down inside his boxers. ‘Do they do this?’

‘No,’ he returned the nip. ‘Never, none of them.’ For a second he faltered. ‘Carla, I –’

‘Shut up, Wade. I don’t wanna hear it.’ This time she bit his tongue before she took his hand and guided it down into her baggy sweat bottoms and into her own boxers.

Interviewing Wad is available from:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

 

Lily Harlem’s Seriously Hot BDSM Billionaire Novel, IN EXPERT HANDS is now available!

IEH smallLook what’s new and sizzling from my good friend, sister Brit Babe and fabulous writer, Lily Harlem! 

 

In Expert Hands Blurb:

Imogen White has it all—a high-flying career, a prestigious London home and friends she knows will fight her corner. She’s going up, and she’s in control, she’s also got the hots for one very important, very sexy client.

Kane Ward is a self-made billionaire whose determination to be the best of the best has left him alone. He has everything money can buy, yachts, jets, and villas in all four corners of the globe, but even he can’t buy time to suit his needs.

And his needs are very specific, his desires a particular shade of kink and his tastes anything but vanilla. So when he sets his sights on Imogen it’s a given that things are going to get dark, that pleasure will be laced with pain and determining his success will be measured by her blushes and gasps and cries of delight. But Imogen doesn’t need to worry, she’s in expert hands and her every fantasy is about to come true—and then some she’d never imagined in her wildest dreams.

IN EXPERT HANDS has a spin-off short story, IN SAFE HANDS which is featured in the Brit Babes SEXY JUST GOT RICH anthology. Go grab your copy – it’s available from all good ebook retail outlets at a bargain introductory price – and let yourself fall into the dark, erotic world of the Ward brothers, but remember to call them Sir if you’re wearing their collar!

In Expert Hands Buy Links

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TI0T5KE

Amazon UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00TI0T5KE?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Amazon Ca http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00TI0T5KE?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Amazon AU http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00TI0T5KE?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24916749-in-expert-hands?ac=1

 

Excerpt from IN EXPERT HANDS 18+

“Would you like a drink?” he asked over the sound of the music.

“I’m okay, unless you want one.”

“No. I drank water after my workout.” He urged her forward. “So shall we go straight into a playroom?”

“If that’s what you want?”

He glanced at his watch. “There should be something going on to satisfy our voyeur plans for the evening.”

They stepped toward the bar.

Kane indicated another doorway at the opposite end that had a chain mail curtain hanging from its frame. “It’s through there.”

“Ah, K. Long time no see.” A man wearing a similar jacket to Kane’s but with only two stars over the breast pocket extended his hand.

He didn’t wear a mask and Imogen could see that his smile was genuine.

“Nate, how have you been?” Kane took his hand and they shook.

“Great, been in the City for a few weeks on business. Making the most of my free time by coming here.” Nate turned to kane 1Imogen and raised his eyebrows. “You have company.”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Kane squeezed Imogen a little closer.

“I am. You don’t usually bring guests. Special occasion?”

Imogen felt Kane tense. She sensed he wasn’t enjoying having his break from the ordinary commented on. “

No occasion,” Kane said. “Good to see you, Nate, perhaps we’ll get a chance to catch up later.”

“Yep. That would be cool.” Nate held up what appeared to be a glass of fizzy water and nodded. He kept his attention on Imogen. “Enjoy your evening here at Sub Space. I’m sure Master K will address your every need.”

“Thank you.” Imogen smiled then felt her cheeks heat as Nate swept his gaze down her body—starting at the collar, then lingering on her breasts and finally on her boots.

Kane stepped forward, tugging her with him. “This way.”

After several paces she touched the collar. “This, around my neck,” she said quietly. “What would happen if I wasn’t wearing it?”

“It would make you fair bait for men like Nate, who are just out to play in a scene, find someone to hook up with.” He glanced at her. “He had no right to look at you like that.”

“Well, the outfit kind of screams look at me.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh.” She was confused. “It’s not?”

“No. You’re with me. I’ve claimed you with a collar. What’s more, I outrank him. He should show more respect.”

“You outrank him?”

“Of course.” He pulled back the chain curtain and opened a door. He ushered Imogen into the new room.

Imogen opened her mouth and stared around, thoughts of Nate vanishing.

Kane moved her from the doorway and into the shadows. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What are your first impressions?” he asked by her ear, his lips brushing her lobe and his breath heating a trail down her neck.

She leant back into him, loving being so close, held by him. But she couldn’t concentrate fully on his embrace because of what was before her. “It’s…sexy.”

“Mmm, I’m glad you think so,” he said, the soft material of his mask rubbing against her temple. “What else?”

She looked around. The room was sectioned into six large cubicles, each one decorated in dark tones and with a combination of low lights and spotlights. Each three-walled area held a bed or a table or some other piece of equipment in the center. Three spaces were occupied.

There was an audience, too, couples, singles, threesomes sitting on more large sofas. Imogen could only see the backs of their heads. Some appeared enraptured, others holding quiet conversations.

“Tell me,” Kane urged, slipping his hand over the smooth material covering her waist. “What do you think about that, over there, to your left.”

Imogen was already staring in that direction. It had been the main thing that had captured her attention.

Portrait of a young couple
A naked woman was bent double, tied to a skinny padded table with her ankles fastened to the legs and her arms stretched out on two platforms, crucifix-like. Her skin was pale except for her behind, which was scarlet.

Beside her stood a man—dressed like Kane in black trousers and a velvet jacket—wielding a flogger. He walked around the woman as if surveying the marks on her ass then cracked down the many strands over her skin.

Imogen jerked and a tingle traveled over her buttocks, as though her nerves were empathetic with what the woman on the table was going through.

The man hit again.

The woman groaned and moved her head, her face coming into Imogen’s view. She had her eyes screwed up tight and her lips were parted. There was a flush of red on her cheeks that matched the rosy blush on her backside.

“Talk to me,” Kane said softly.

“Is she enjoying it?” Imogen asked, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer. The woman appeared to be in ecstasy, as though she’d folded in on herself and only her body and sensation existed.

“Very much so,” Kane said. “Master Zen is very capable of working his sub towards orgasm just through striking her.”

“Are they just…playing a scene or are they…?”

“Lovers, committed to each other? Yes, actually those two are. They’re regulars here and live the lifestyle.”

“The lifestyle?”

“Yes.” He slid his hand to her collar and spanned it with his thumb and fingers. “They live full time as Dom and sub. He commands and she obeys.”

“It sounds…old-fashioned.” Imogen wasn’t sure about the obeying thing. She’d known friends who’d purposely had that removed from their wedding vows.

“It’s a symbiotic relationship,” Kane went on, smoothing his fingers around her collar and brushing her skin.

A small shiver ran down Imogen’s spine.

The woman was struck again—several times in fast succession.

Imogen stared at the spectacle.

“You see,” Kane said. “She needs to be adored, cared for, taken through life by the man she loves. He needs to protect her, satisfy her, ensure that everything is perfect for her at all times. That is what makes him feel complete.”

“And that includes this. Beating?”

“Beating, spanking, flogging, whatever you want to call it, yes, it includes this, because that’s what they both enjoy, it’s their thing. It’s their kink.”

Kane went quiet and Imogen watched as Master Zen stood directly behind his sub. He appeared to fiddle at his groin then his pants loosened around his hips. He pushed forward.

The woman arched her back and her cry echoed around the room.

He reached for her shoulders, dragged her onto him.

“He’s…” Imogen said.

“Yes. He’s clearly very pleased with her. She’s getting exactly what she wants tonight.” Kane’s voice was low and husky, as though the sight was turning him on.

Imogen watched, fascinated as the Dom began to fuck his woman with urgency. The sub couldn’t move, she was strapped down, but he was moving for them. Thrusting in and out, hard, frantic, gripping her shoulders, her hair, her hips. His hands were all over her.

Imogen’s knickers dampened and she shifted within Kane’s arms.

“Would you like to get fucked like that?” Kane whispered.

Imogen half turned to him, his words a shock, despite where they were and what they were watching.21 spanked in stockings

“Tell me,” he said, cupping her cheek and holding her face. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I…” Imogen was breathing heavily. Fuck. What was she thinking? That she wanted to get fucked like that? She wanted to feel the flogger?

“Would you like to be her, on that table, with Master Zen taking you to the exquisite high she is rocketing towards right now?” Kane asked. “Red and sore, filled to the max? Nothing else in your mind except claiming that pleasure?”

She did, but it wasn’t Master Zen she wanted behind her, yanking her hair, scratching and marking her skin. Sinking deep, so deep. Filling her to bursting point.

It was Kane, or K as he was known here. It was him she wanted.

“Imogen,” Kane murmured, his mouth almost touching hers. “Talk to me.”

“Yes.” The word scratched from her throat. “But—”

He pressed his thumb over her lips, flattening them against her teeth. “No buts. Or if there are, tell me later.” He gave a brief smile. “Yes is enough.”

 

lily-harlem lipsAbout Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, best-selling author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave and Sweetmeats Press. Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

meet the ward brothers

Lily Harlem Links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk

BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk

Hockey Romance http://www.hockeyromance.com

Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Hot Ice https://www.facebook.com/hoticeseries

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

 

 

 

 

Liz Coldwell Shares Hotel Secrets

Liz Coldwell hotel britannique romantic bed

There’s something deeply romantic about staying in a hotel. If you have the money, it’s a chance to surround yourself in

five-star luxury, with beautifully decorated rooms, access to gyms and spa facilities, 24-hour room service and staff on hand to attend to your every need. TripAdvisor hands out ‘Most Romantic Hotel’ Awards each year, with the winners offering such things as champagne and chocolates to guests on arrival as part of the package, and providing a cosy little bolthole from the stresses of everyday life. Even if your budget runs to nothing more exciting than a travel lodge just off the M4, you’ll still get a break from chores like cooking breakfast and making your own bed – and for some that’s the definition of romance.

For many people, though, a hotel stay offers the chance to live out any number of romantic and sexual fantasies. Towns like Brighton built their reputation on being a destination for ‘dirty weekends’, where couples could get away from their families, friends or even their spouse and indulge in all manner of naughtiness. One piece of advice often given to those wanting to spice up their sex lives is to book into a hotel under false names, or even to pretend to pick each other up in the bar before going upstairs for some hot between-the-sheets action. It appeals to the concept of hotels as places where everything is transient, full of people you’ll never see again and who have no idea of what you might be getting up to behind closed doors. And with reports of guest accidentally leaving saucy underwear and exotic sex toys behind when they check out, it’s a fair bet the couple in the next room to yours are letting their desires run wild. (The moral here, of course, is to check under the bed and behind the radiators before you hand your keys back…)

When I started plotting His Secret Boss, I was looking to set the book in Wales. I needed a business that was failing and the idea came to me to use a hotel as the backdrop, because if you’re part of the management so much rides on giving guests the best possible experience. Like the rest of the United Kingdom, Wales has some spectacular coastal scenery and beautiful seaside towns. Aberpentre, the fictional location where hotel chain CEO Claudia Anthony pitches up, isn’t one of those towns, with a high street that mostly consists of charity shops and a general air of neglect. The Anthony Hotel is equally rundown, with a lift that’s in desperate need of an overhaul, as Claudia and the hotel’s manager, Rhodri, discover to their cost in this extract:

 

His Secret Boss Extract: 

The lift arrived. We got in, and Rhodri pressed the button for the top floor. For two and a half floors, we ascended Liz ColdwellHis Secret Boss6smoothly, then there was the sound of metal grinding against metal, and the car juddered to a halt.

‘What the …?’ Rhodri jabbed at buttons on the panel by the door, but nothing happened. He waited a moment, then tried again, with the same result. ‘Shit! It looks like we’re stuck.’ He sighed. ‘And I got the maintenance crew to look this thing over today as well.’

‘So what do we do now?’

Rhodri pressed another button, which bore the image of a bell. ‘That’s the alarm. It should let the company that monitors the lift know there’s a problem. Unfortunately, this thing’s so old, it doesn’t have any form of communication system built into it, so I can’t speak to them directly.’

‘Hopefully Bayo and Dean will realise something’s wrong when the lift doesn’t arrive at the top floor. They might be able to do something.

‘True, but even if they open the outside door, we’re halfway between floors. I don’t think we’d be able to climb out, and I don’t want to risk trying it.’

‘So we’ve just got to wait until someone arrives to get us out? How long is that going to take?’ I’d never suffered from claustrophobia, but something about being trapped in this little metal box caused nausea to churn in my belly. Even Rhodri’s solid presence by my side didn’t seem to help. I shivered, and wiped suddenly clammy palms on my skirt.

‘Hey, Jane, it’s going to be OK.’ He put an arm around me and gave me a reassuring hug. Though his intention was clearly to try and soothe me, he only succeeded in making things worse. I hadn’t cried since the day of Dad’s funeral, and now all the tears I’d been bottling up came flooding out.

‘But it’s the middle of the night,’ I babbled into his shoulder, no longer sure what was really upsetting me. ‘Who’s going to come now?’

‘They have people on call 24 hours a day. If anything, they’ll be here quicker than they otherwise might. No traffic on

the roads, no other idiots making demands on their attention by deciding to use an unreliable, thousand-year-old lift at midnight …’

He held me tighter as my sobs turned into giggles at his exaggerated response to our predicament. At last, I pulled away from him and removed my glasses so I could wipe at my eyes. Rhodri dug into his pocket and found a handkerchief, which he passed to me.

‘There you go, Jane. I just hate to see a woman cry.’

‘I’m sorry.’ I clutched the hankie in my fist. ‘I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I’ve watched too many horror films where people get trapped in lifts and terrible things happen to them.’

‘So would now be the right time to tell you that we have a ghost here?’

‘Really?’ I thought I’d heard all the stories about the hotel, but this was news to me.

He shook his head. ‘No. But it’d be pretty cool if there was. Just imagine if the spirit of some old hotel porter walked the landings, shining his torch as he went. Or if the place was haunted by an Edwardian lady who threw herself from one of the balconies because she’d been jilted by the man she was about to marry …’ His voice had dropped to a whisper, and as I spoke, something touched the back of my neck.

I shrieked and jumped backwards. Then realised what I had felt were Rhodri’s fingers, moving in a spidery trail over my skin.

‘That wasn’t funny,’ I snapped, as Rhodri fought to stifle his laughter. ‘You have a morbid imagination, you know that?’ 

‘So you don’t want to swap ghost stories, then? Never mind, I’m sure we can find some other way of passing the time …’

In the dim glow of the emergency lighting, Rhodri’s eyes were dark with desire. An air of anticipation hung between us, just as it had last night, in the moment before he kissed me. What had I told myself about not getting involved with him? It would be too complicated, too fraught with danger. Yet, as he pulled me into his arms again, I made no effort to resist.

Our lips were inches apart. I closed my eyes in anticipation.

 

His Secret Boss Blurb:

‘You have to admit, Claudia, it’ll be wonderful publicity for you …’

Fans of The Untwisted series, 50 shades of Grey and Sylvia Day’s Crossfire series will love His Secret Boss.

Claudia Anthony, the overachieving owner of a successful hotel chain, is recruited to take part in the reality TV show Secret CEO. Disguised as Jane Ennis, she takes on a job at The Anthony in Aberpentre, a Welsh seaside town that has seen better days. She finds herself working under young, headstrong Rhodri Wynn-Jones, who has no clue of her real identity. Soon, passion flares and although Claudia knows there are lines she can’t cross, she just can’t keep away.

Rhodri is falling in love with Jane – but what will happen if he learns he’s actually having an affair with his boss?

 

His Secret Boss Buy links:

Amazon UK/

Amazon US/

Accent Press

 

Abouy Liz Coldwell:

Formerly the editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine, co-founder of the Guild of Erotic Writers and editor in chief at Xcite Books, Elizabeth Coldwell has been writing erotic fiction for over twenty years and her work has been widely published in the UK and US. She enjoys writing across the spectrum of erotica genres, from m/m space opera to girl/girl messy fun, vanilla to BDSM, paranormal to contemporary.

Find Elizabeth Coldwell at

The (Really) Naughty Corner

 

 

 

 

 

TO ROME with LUST Launch Day!

To Rome with LustTODAY IS LAUNCH DAY! It’s official! All those of you who pre-ordered To Rome with Lust will have woken up this morning to find it waiting for you on your eReaders. Happy reading! For this of you with a little more patience, the wait is over. To Rome with Lust is now available in print and eBook formats for you reading pleasure.

To Rome with Lust:

The adventure that began with Rita Holly in London, then moved to Las Vegas with Nick Chase continues in Rome when a chance encounter among the Roman ruins has tourist, Liza Calendar, and perfumer, Paulo ‘The Nose’ Delacour, in sexy olfactory heaven. Paulo is the heir apparent of Martelli Fragrance, a roll Rita Holly abdicated to lead the Mount in London. With her magnificently sensitive nose leading the way, Liza uncovers Martelli’s hidden secret –it’s the front for the original Mount, an international secret society with sexual rites into which Paulo is more than willing to initiate her.

Excerpt:

‘People are looking. We should stop.’ Liza barely got the words out before he leaned in just a tiny bit further and, in his enthusiasm, his lips brushed hers. Everything spiked in a sharp stab of scent that settled right between her legs, as they both gasped and sat back, eyes wide, fingers pressed to lips. A flight to Paris was called over the intercom immediately after one to Frankfurt and, in the jostling and shifting and gathering of belongings, no one was paying any attention to them. Though she wasn’t sure it would have made any difference even if they’d suddenly been center stage. Their gaze locked on each other, cheeks flushed, chests heaving, they sat locked in a moment so tight, so full that its breaking apart was inevitable. It was ridiculous. She was seconds away from coming, and his cock was about to burst his trousers and his lips, my god his lips, she could think of so many places on her body she wanted those lips.

‘I have to know,’ he gasped. ‘Surely you want to know too.’ Then he did the unthinkable. He curled his fingers into the back of her hair and pulled her to him. This time their lips met with a clash of teeth and a gasping swallow of oxygen that transitioned into parted lips and darting tongues and an absolute explosion of scent. If he had smelled amazing by himself, if his scent had sharpened hers to the cutting edge of orgasm, then the mixing and blending that happened when they touched, when those two scents came together was shattering. ‘I’ve never smelled anything like it,’ she breathed into his mouth.

‘Me neither,’ He bit her lower lip and tugged and their blended smell became darker, more spicy, tones of earth and sea, pepper and honey and my god the guy could kiss!

View of Rome from Borghese GardensP1010033She came first with a guttural grunt that began deep in her center and washed over her like a riptide. She tried desperately to hide it, but he knew it. He felt it, she even thought he smelled it, and he tightened his fist in her hair, breathing her into his open mouth. Both his hands then slid to her shoulders in a grip that was almost painful as he pulled back, his gaze locked on hers, and his whole body convulsed, and again, and again, his deep mocha gaze holding her tight as pupils dilated and eyelids shuddered.

For a moment they sat stunned, staring at each other, struggling to catch their breath. He looked shell-shocked, and she must have looked at least as bad. ‘I’m sorry,’ they both said at the same time as they mirrored each other in a nervous laugh.

Then the intercom called the flight to Rome. ‘That’s my flight,’ she gasped, suddenly awash in a wave of embarrassment. She grabbed her bag and her laptop and fled, feeling certain everyone was watching, feeling certain everyone knew exactly what they had done. She left quickly, babbling on about duty free and gifts, sounding like a total idiot. It didn’t matter though, at the end of the day, she’d never see the man again. And she’d never smell him again. That saddened her.

 

To Rome with Lust is book three in The Mount Series. And for those of you who may not have read books one and two, no worries! These books don’t have to be read in order. But if you DO like to order your reading universe then here’s a little Mount primer:

 

 

Holly_teaserTHE INITIATION of MS HOLLY: Book One in The Mount Series (Click here for: Book Two | Book Three)

Journalist, Rita Holly, never dreamed sex with the mysterious Edward in the dark of a malfunctioning train would lead to a blindfolded, champagne-drenched tango, a spanking by a butch waitress, and an offer of initiation into the exclusive mysteries of The Mount. Desperate to save her threatened job, she agrees, scheming secretly to write an inside exposé on the club that will make her career. But as she delves deeper into the intrigue of The Mount and the lives of its members, she soon discovers that her heart may have other plans.

 

 

FULFILLING the CONTRACT: Book two of The Mount Series (Click here for Book One | Book Three)

FTC_teaserLimo driver, NICK CHASE’s bad night gets worse when he picks up TANYA POVIC at a bar only to discover the explosive sex they share lands her in breach of her very strange contract. Blaming himself that Tanya will lose the large completion bonus earmarked for her mother’s surgery, Nick negotiates with her boss, the tough and mysterious ELSA CRANE, to allow him to fulfill Tanya’s contract and secure her bonus.

Elsa runs Mount Vegas, which offers voyeuristic pleasures for a price. Nick’s job, with Elsa and her quirky team, is to give clients something worth watching through the plate glass windows of Vegas’s luxury hotels and beyond. The learning curve is steep and kinky. As Nick and Elsa’s relationship sizzles and ignites more than hotel room rendezvouses are exposed. In this sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly things get positively dangerous as Rita Holly and her team are called in from London to lend a helping hand. Bets are being placed. Will Nick fulfil the contract? Will he and Elsa take the gamble? And will they find a way to win at the high stakes, double or nothing, game of hearts?

 

 
 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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