Category Archives: New Releases

Reading Slam and Launch Party — Twice the Celebration, Twice the Fun

How much fun can be crammed into one weekend? Well, I’m going to do my best to find out the last weekend in February, the 24th and 25th. And since fun is always best when it’s shared, I’m hoping you’ll help me find out as I do my best to double the celebration for the launch of Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of my paranormal Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy.

The Evolution of a Reading Slam

I’m very lucky to have lots of great writing friends in the UK, some who live in London, but many who live outside of London, all over the UK. Some of these fabulous friends are making me very happy by planning to come down to London for my launch party. That being the case, I wanted a way to let them know how much I appreciated their efforts. So, I thought up the idea of having a reading slam the night before the launch so that everyone could read if they wanted to and have a chance to promote and share their own work.

I was surprised and touched by the positive response to the idea, an idea which I actually found a little bit scary, as I’d never organized an event like a reading slam before. But everyone seemed so excited.

Then, a dear friend and sister writer suggested we make it into a charity event. My pulse rate went up, I bit off the rest of my nails, and when I finally stopped hyperventilating, I emailed the amazing Sarah Berry and put the idea to her. Sarah quickly calmed my panic attack and assured me that not only COULD we do a reading slam as a fundraiser for charity, but we SHOULD!

Viola! That’s how a simple reading slam evolved into the More Bang Reading Slam Fundraiser! Am I still scared? Yes! Am I still nervous? Yes! Am I excited and glad we’re doing it and all a flutter with anticipation? Yes, yes, yes!

More Bang Reading Slam Fund Raiser
24 February 2012
Sh! Portobello

To help celebrate the launch of her new novel, Body Temperature and Rising, K D Grace, with her fabulous co-sponsors, the Fannies Rule Groups headed up by amazing Sarah Berry present the More Bang Reading Slam (That’s short for more bang for your buck).

This evening of hot reading is very special because all proceeds will go to the Sexual Advice Association. There’ll be a charge of £5 for guests and participants, all for a good cause!

There’ll also be raffles and giveaways. There’ll be fizz and cupcakes. But mostly there’ll be lots of fun and lots of sexy readings from lots of sexy readers strutting their stuff and making the audience squirm deliciously in their seats.

Wanna read? Come prepared with five minutes worth of filth and fun. Warning, any attempt to read longer will result in a good spanking.

Wanna just listen and sip fizz? Come prepared for a good time. Warning, those not prepared for a good time may also be spanked at the digression of the management.

Fun for a good cause is the yummiest kind of fun. Come celebrate with us!

Friday 24th February at 6:30 at Sh! Portobello.

Cost £5

Launch Party

25 February 2012
Sh! Hoxton

You’re invited to celebrate with K D Grace at the launch party for her new novel, BODY TEMPERATURE AND RISING, the first book of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy!

Blurb:
Can the power of lust overcome deadly intentions?
For American transplant, Marie Warren, a magical encounter on the Lakeland fells ends in sex with a charming ghost and the discovery that she has the ability to unleash demons and ghosts. Her powers bring her to a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that allows ghosts access to pleasures of the flesh.

Ancient grudges unfold, and Deacon, the demon Marie inadvertently unleashed, will stop at nothing to destroy everything the coven’s high priestess, Tara Stone, holds dear, including Marie, the charming ghost, Anderson, and sexy farmer, Tim Meriwether. Only the power unleashed by Marie and Tim’s lust can stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and innocent people die. But is lust enough?

Come celebrate with witches and ghosts and all the very naughtiest people from far and wide. While the author promises no one will be turned into a newt, it is recommended that all guests come prepared for love spells and squirming in the seats, both of which, Sh! is well equipped to handle.

There’ll be fizz and cupcakes all served up in the fabulously sexy surrounds of Sh! Hoxton! Don’t miss the magic!

Where: Sh! Hoxton
When: Saturday 25th February 6:30 pm
No charge

Justine Elyot’s Novel, Meeting Her Match — Wicked, Unnatural, Delicious

I’m elated to welcome back one of my very favourite writers, Justine Elyot, here on her blog tour to promote the hot new JE novel we’ve been waiting for, Meeting Her Match. Tell us details, Justine, details!

Wicked and Unnatural

It’s lovely to be back here at K D’s gracious place. Her hospitality is second to none, so I’d like to thank her for hosting me today.

I’m a fan of K D’s and, on reading her latest terrific novel, The Pet Shop, it occurred to me that, in some ways, we are opposite sides of a coin. I thought it might be interesting to elaborate on that a little.

K D’s work gets deep down in the organic nature of the human sex drive, finding that primitive pulse within us all that urges us to scratch our sensual itches. A dedicated gardener and keen walker, she’s a writer who sees how we are linked with all of nature around us and she expresses this eloquently and very erotically in her stories!

I’m on the other side of the (man-made) fence. I’m fascinated by how humans try to impose their own ideals and tastes on the natural order. How our relationships and experiences impact on our sexuality, how we create rituals around it, and how those rituals evolve as time passes and cultural perspectives shift.

Meeting Her Match concerns the exploration of perhaps the most ritualistic of all sexual practices, BDSM. Although the dominant/submissive dynamic is found all over the place in nature, the cerebral and ceremonial aspects that make it so thrilling are entirely human. Some kinksters would argue that the sex itself is almost the cherry on the cake – what makes the pulse race and the blood rush is everything else that accompanies and precedes the meeting of genitals. Above all, it takes place in the mind – getting hit with sticks is only sexy if your mind is telling you so.

But enough of my blether. I assure you, the book is much sexier than I’m making it sound. Want to try an excerpt?

Excerpt:

The egg timer buzzed and my pulse raced. I wasn’t ready to come out of the corner and face my fate. I needed to stand there for longer, letting the dread seep into my pores and permeate my being. But he would be waiting for me, so I padded over to the computer and typed in the words, “I’m ready, Sir,” even though I wasn’t.

“Good. Did you behave yourself in the corner?”

“Yes, Sir! I thought about…doing things…but I didn’t.”

“Good. I won’t enquire…So? Your thoughts? What might your just desserts be?”

I almost typed ‘trifle’ but I held back, knowing that this would hardly be in the spirit of contrition SecretSadist had hoped to instil.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I should get sent to bed without supper.”

“Maybe.”

Ugh, no. Not sexy. Don’t do that!

“Or…”

“???”

“Something embarrassing…I can’t say it…”

“Say it. Go on.”

“If you were here…”

“If I were there…”

“You could put me over your knee…”

“And?”

“Give me what I deserve.”

“Which is?”

“Argh! Don’t make me say it!”

“I’m not. This is typeface. I’ll make you say it when we meet, though, make no mistake. So? I’m waiting. It’ll be worse for you if you make me hang on much longer.”

“Damn it! You could spank me.”

“Language, young lady! Yes, I certainly think you’ve earned a spanking. If only I were there, I’d have you over my knee right now.”

“…”

“I’d pull your scanty silky knickers down to your knees, Miss, and then I’d smack your bare bottom hard until it glowed redder than fire.”

“Ouch.”

“And if you weren’t sorry, I’d make you fetch your hairbrush and I’d apply it to your stinging rump until you begged for mercy. And then I’d spank you some more.”

“I’ll bear it in mind.”

“You’ll bear it on your bottom. Your bare bottom. One day. Soon.”

“Eek. (Can’t wait).”

And if you can’t wait to find out what happens next, here’s some more detail:

In the internet age, it should be easy for like-minded fetishists to find and connect with each other. Or so Cherry thought. Her decision to enter the wild and wonderful world of BDSM leads her to some interesting and unexpected places. She soon finds herself on ‘the scene’ and her insatiable curiosity takes her to orgies, slave auctions and mansion houses full of trainee submissives, but where will she find her perfect dom? Will Cherry ever meet her match?

Buy in paperback: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Meeting-Her-Match-Justine-Elyot/dp/1908086157/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpi_3

And on Kindle: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Meeting-Her-Match-ebook/dp/B006C4C3SK/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=A3TVV12T0I6NSM

Justine Elyot is the UK bestselling author of On Demand, The Business of Pleasure and Erotic Amusements. When she isn’t buried under a pile of new projects, you can find her waving at the world from her website http://justineelyot.com/ or gassing about trivialities on Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/JustineElyot.

 

 

 

 

Susie White and the Right Hand Man — Snow White Sizzles Felthouse Style

A wedding, an evil plan, a love story and a sacrifice are the order of the day in this modern retelling of Snow White and the Huntsman.

Susie White and her stepmother-to-be have never seen eye to eye, despite all of Susie’s best efforts to be friendly. Eager not to spoil her father’s happiness, Susie still agrees to be bridesmaid at their wedding. When the big day comes, she meets Louise’s right hand man, Scott. Susie had never believed in love at first sight until that moment. The pair hit it off, sharing a mutual dislike of Louise and her wicked ways. Their camaraderie quickly develops into something more, and they date in secret until it’s time for Susie to leave for University – and freedom. Unfortunately, Scott has an earth-shattering revelation, which means the two of them of them must work together to unravel Louise’s evil plan, before it’s too late.

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/susie-white-and-the-right-hand-

Excerpt:

I should have known my stepmother was up to something when she offered to help me move all my stuff to my University digs. It wasn’t like her to be civil, much less helpful, but I figured that she was happy I was moving hundreds of miles away, and therefore would do anything to make sure it happened as quickly as possible.

As my father’s only child, I’m the sole heir to White’s Bites, a massively profitable confectionary company based in Wiltshire, England. My stepmother had made no secret of the fact she resented that she wouldn’t get a stake in the business, should anything happen to my father. Of course, the reason for this was that my father knew the first thing the witch would do was put the business on the market to get her greedy little hands on the cash. I, on the other hand, loved White’s Bites and would continue to run it to the best of my ability.

We’d never seen eye to eye, my stepmother and I. However, it wasn’t the usual ‘child resents someone trying to replace their parent’ syndrome, it was her that resented me.

My mom had died of cancer when I was fifteen. My father and I were devastated, as you’d expect, but I’d always urged him to get on with his life. After all, it’s what mom would have wanted, and I certainly didn’t want my dad to be lonely when I got married and left home.

So, a couple of years later, when dad met Louise and they started dating, I was thrilled. He was happy, therefore so was I. Soon it became more serious and dad wanted me to meet her. I was excited, but nervous.

When the time came and Louise had walked into our house, I’d been in awe. Don’t get me wrong, my mom had been beautiful, but in a natural way, as if she didn’t realise, or care. But Louise clearly did. Her gorgeous hair was perfectly quaffed, and her attractive features were enhanced by expertly applied makeup. Her outfit looked like something from a fashion magazine. I managed to pull myself together before she saw me standing there, all slack-jawed and stupid-looking. Walking towards her, I’d held out a hand.

“Louise!” I’d said, beaming, “I’m so pleased to finally meet you. Dad’s told me so much about you.”

She’d smiled thinly and without any real emotion. “Charmed, I’m sure, Susan.” She’d shaken my hand gingerly, as though she was afraid she’d catch something. I’d half expected her to wipe her hand on her clothes afterwards.

“Oh please, call me Susie.” I’d said, ignoring her odd behaviour. I’d been eager to get on with the woman, knowing it would please my father. “Everyone does.”

Another tight-lipped smile. I’d tried hard to make conversation with her and make her feel comfortable in our home. But I never felt like I was succeeding. At first, I put it down to her being nervous or shy, but as weeks and months passed, I still never felt as though Louise warmed to me. I never bothered my father with my concerns. After all, as long as she liked him, what did it matter?

While Louise and my father were just dating, things weren’t too bad. They went to restaurants, the theatre, the cinema, and so on. I didn’t see her very often, and therefore didn’t have to put up with her frosty behaviour towards me.

Naturally, everything changed when dad told me he was going to ask Louise to marry him. He’d sat me down to break the news – fortunately – and I’d done my best to act delighted. Luckily, dad hadn’t noticed anything was amiss, and as he’d chatted about ceremonies, honeymoons and Louise moving in, a cold shiver had run up my back. This could not end well.

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/susie-white-and-the-right-hand-man/

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

Victoria Blisse Tells Why it’s Always Christmas in Lincoln

The lovely Victoria Blisse has taken time out from the festivities of  the fabulous Blissemas Blog Hop to stop in and tell us a story behind the story. And in keeping with the spirit of the season, she’s going to tell us what inspired her hot new story, Always Christmas in Lincoln. Welcome, Victoria, and happy holidays!

There’s always more to a story than meets the eye and that is certainly true for Always Christmas in Lincoln.

It was back in May when I came up with the idea. I went down to Lincoln to join in with the Lincoln book festival with one of my publishers, Total-E-Bound. I experienced Steep Hill very soon after arriving, in fact I had to drag my luggage up it! I was very relieved to find a lovely ice cream shop at the top of that hill I can tell you!

So it was the second time I’d visited Lincoln, I’d been a few years earlier for the Christmas Markets with my mum. It was a lovely trip and it was extra cold and frosty at the time we went, very festive indeed. I was reminded of that visit in the evening when I was enjoying a meal with Nikki, Claire and Heidi from the TEB gang and fellow authors Liz Coldwell and Serena Yates.

We were in a very nice Thai restaurant enjoying a very delicious meal when we noticed that running all round the windows and over the ceiling were…Christmas decorations! Reindeers and Angels if I remember correctly! We made comment about them then and there but the conversation moved on. We found out about Serena Yates love of spreadsheets which she shares with Nikki in fact and talked books, promotion and life.

Anyway, after lovely food we went for drinkies together in the hotel and as we walked up the driveway we noticed all the bushes were lit up with bright white fairy lights and Liz commented. “It’s always Christmas in Lincoln.” And bam, I had a book title and all I needed to do was write the story to go with it! As I lay in bed that night I thought over ideas for my story and by morning I’d thumbed out a quick plot on my phone.

So I have to thanks the authors there that night and especially Liz because without them this story wouldn’t have been born!

It was June when I wrote Always Christmas in Lincoln and so the story starts in Summer! I found it really interesting to be writing something so festive set in the middle of a heatwave. How did I do it? I created a year-round Christmas shop in Lincoln!

Now you know the inspiration behind the story, let’s find out about the actual story!

It isn’t really always Christmas in Lincoln but when Felicity gets her man it feels like it.

Felicity hates Christmas. It reminds her of a traumatic event from her childhood. She thinks the Permanent Christmas shop is tacky, with its windows full of trees and tinsel all year round and would rather it disappeared from her picturesque home town.

When she discovers that Carl, who she lusts over every time she sees him in the tea rooms, is in fact the owner of Ho, Ho, Ho! She’s not quite sure what to think. It takes a sexy meeting in the middle of a fake winter wonderland to make her realise the advantages of Christmas in the middle of summer.

As time passes, Carl and Felicity indulge in more sexy liaisons but as Christmas approaches Felicity doubts whether she is anything more than a sensual distraction for the festive shop owner and when her handsome ex, Sean, sweeps into town on a quest to win her back she finds she has a tough decision to make.

Can Carl and his Christmas cheer win over her hardened heart?

And now an excerpt, a very, very hot excerpt:

It was very surreal being surrounded by snow, even fake snow, in the middle of summer. Every time I bobbed my head up and down on his delicious dick—I swear it tasted of gingerbread and cinnamon—something different would catch my eye. The green and red- scarfed penguin lying on its side next to me or the grinning Santa on a rocking chair up on the shelf. Each had a smug smile that I was sure signaled how much they liked the show.

It was very hot—I suspect I was a little delirious at the time. I pulled my focus back to the man in front of me. I listened to his groans, his pants, and felt the push of his hips as he showed me exactly how much he was enjoying the feel of my mouth around his cock and encouraged me to take him deeper and to suck harder.

“Fuck, Fliss,” he gasped, “you’re amazing.”

I smiled up at him and winked. I slowly withdrew him from my mouth and ran my tongue around his tip.

“I really want to fuck you,” Carl groaned breathlessly. “Really want to. Really.”

“Say pretty please,” I teased, just as eager to feel his hardness inside me as he was to fill me.

“Please?” he begged.

I twirled my fingers around his tip and stroked down his shaft. I let my mischievous side out to play and grinned wickedly at him, but didn’t move an inch.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” he pleaded desperately.

“Well, since you ask so nicely…” I let the sentence linger and moved myself forward slightly. This was all the permission Carl needed. He lunged forward and caught me off balance. As we rolled around, tinkling and clanking noises surrounded us, but we weren’t worried about damaged or out of place stock. After much rolling and giggling, I ended up below him, my skirt around my waist and his cock straining against the material of my knickers.

“I’ve dreamt about this for so long.” He worked the damp fabric to one side and slid a thick, warm finger into me. “You’re gorgeous.”

I was surprised—I’d hardly realised he knew who I was and wouldn’t have ever even imagined he’d thought of me in a sexual way.

“I didn’t know.” The words came in between moans and panting breaths as he finger-fucked me, finding and manipulating my clit and seeking out the sensitive spots inside me. “I’ve been watching you for months and I didn’t realise you even knew I existed.”

“Oh, I knew.” He nodded. “I watched you all the time from behind my newspaper in the café.”His finger left me and I longed for more contact. A moment later, his dick pushed at my entrance and filled me. A streak of warm excitement flashed through my insides, creating a paradox of completion and desire that drove my hips up to meet his first thrust. “But believe it or not,” he continued, “I’m shy and I didn’t know how to approach you.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

“You conquered your shyness, then,” I said. “I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Always Christmas in Lincoln is available from Total-E-Bound now!

Have you ever celebrated or thought about Christmas in Summer?

Body Temperature and Rising, the Long Way Around

Body Temperature and Rising, volume one of my Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, is now available in all ebook formats with most major distributors. It will be available in print in February. After a very strange, circuitous journey to completion, I’m very excited to be able to share my first ever paranormal erotic romance with the world.

Body Temperature and Rising didn’t start out to be a trilogy. In fact, it started out, three Novembers ago, as my first effort to write a novel in a month for National Novel Writing Month. (NaNoWriMo). During November, National Novel Writing Month, people everywhere of all ages from all walks of life attempt to write a novel in one month. For me, not only was it my first attempt to write a novel in a month, but it was my first ever attempt to write an erotic novel.

Considering the way it all began, Body Temperature and Rising could hardly have been anything BUT paranormal. My good friend Helen Callaghan and I decided to get the first day of our NaNoWriMo experience off to a good start by driving to Avebury to write at the pub there.

Avebury is a village set in the middle of the biggest Neolithic stone circle in Europe, a stone circle 500 years older than the Pyramids.

The Red Lion Inn. Taken on a much nicer, much less haunted day.

Because the stones are much easier than Stonehenge to access, and there is no charge, Avebury has become a gathering place for modern Pagans and other New Age folks. And our timing was perfect, as it was the day after the old Celtic holiday of Samhain and even in spite of the torrential downpour that we arrived in, we found ourselves surrounded by druids, witches, wiccans and all manner of Pagans celebrating what is essentially Celtic New Year. The people watching was fabulous, even with the drowned-rat effect.

Never mind that, Helen and I were there to write, so after a scuppered attempt at an inspiring walk in the wind and rain, we settled in at the Red Lion Inn, right in the centre of the stone circle. This 16th Century pub proudly boasts the reputation of being ‘the most haunted pub in England.’

It didn’t take us long to get pulled into the writing, so after lunch we wrote our way through numerous coffees and pots of tea, watching the super-saturated Pagans come and go in the pouring rains. There was a fire in the fireplace, and we were both in the zone.

By late afternoon, sharing leftover Halloween candy across the table while the Muse whispered in our ears the pub was nearly. Suddenly there was an enormous banging sound, like doors slamming. It seemed to be coming from the hall that led to the restroom behind us. The space that had felt toasty warm all at once felt chilled, and we were both shivering. Seconds later, one of the wait staff came running back to the restrooms looking very panicked and very pale. From behind the bar to the kitchen we heard murmurs and nervous laughter. We overheard mentions of the ghost, followed by more murmurs and mentions of supernatural phenomena when the volunteer returned unscathed to join the rest of the staff cowering behind the bar. And then the room was warm again. Helen and I ate more sweets, ordered another pot of tea and discussed our near-brush with the supernatural. Then we kept writing.

One of the Avebury stones on a nice day.

It was only as dark settled and the rain hadn’t let up even a little bit that we remembered two things. We weren’t parked in the pub car park, but in the National Trust car park on the other side of the village, a car park that closed at dark.

We quickly gathered our belongings and made a run for it, trying to hold umbrellas to protect us from horizontal rain, and struggling to see our way on the tiny, unlit path back to the car park, illuminated only by the pale green light of Helen’s mobile phone. With boots full of water and a banged knee from the metal fence post I ran into, we finally arrived at the Car Park to find it deserted except for Helen’s car, and thankfully for the National Trust Land Rover parked by the gate with a lovely NT employee waiting patiently to let us out.

Oh, and that intsy-weentsy little second thing we’d forgotten about… We’d been so busy talking on the way over to Avebury that we’d forgotten to get petrol for the car, and we were running on fumes. Avebury has a pub, several tourist shops and a post office. No garage. The next town of any size up the deserted highway was Marlborough. Everyone with any common sense was long since inside out of the horrid weather. It felt like we were the only people on the planet. We were only fifteen miles from Marlborough, but we weren’t sure we were even going to get to when we realized the Kennet River, which usually runs under the road was now running OVER the road. Thinking only of the fumes quickly dissipating in the petrol tank, we ploughed through the raging waters of the Kennet and continued on our way, a thought which still gives me a chill when I think what might have happened crossing a flooded river as we did. But only a few miles up the road, looking like the gates to paradise was a small Murco station. And it was open! We were saved! Thus began Lakeland Heatwave: Body Temperature and Rising, which at that time was called ‘Love Spell.’

During the month that I wrote BTR, a time when I already had a very full writing plate on top of the novel-in-a-month plan, the paranormal experience continued as I was magically transformed into The Bitch

Research is hard work

from Hell, a creature so unpredictable, so terrifying, so vile that only my husband, Raymond the Brave, could successfully handle being in her presence for long periods of time. The man has permanent psychological scars from that infamous November, I have no doubt.

In the meantime, I got trapped in the Eurostar Tunnel and The Initiation of Ms Holly was born, followed by The Pet Shop while BTR languished tucked away in my computer as a Word file. I just wasn’t confident enough to attempt anything paranormal. Then, maybe it was the influence of the Avebury Ghost, but I decided to propose Body Temperature and Rising to Xcite, knowing that it would need a lot of reworking because I had grown a lot as a writer. Once Xcite accepted my proposal, I found myself totally unable to continue with the rewrite. Every attempt felt like a false start, every effort felt like it wasn’t right somehow.

Just when I was about to lose heart, I took a long walk and realized that if it were going work as I envisioned it, Lakeland Heatwave would have to be a trilogy. Xcite went for the proposal and from that point on, the ghosts and witches practically wrote the story for me.

Of course with the action set in the Lake District and the first chapters set in a bad storm on the fells and in a slate mine shaft, I was forced to make several research trips to the Lakes. How I suffer for my art! I have no doubt I’ll need to do much such suffering as the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy unfolds.

Body Temperature and Rising will be available in print in February 2012, and as is the happy tradition, will be celebrated with wild partying and raunchy reading at Sh! Hoxton.

Blurb:

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 allowsghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and will 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.

Dale Head. The sight Marie would have seen without the mist.

Excerpt:

‘First you treat me like I don’t exist, then you go all big brother on me like I’m too delicate and soft-brained to take care of myself. Well I have news for you, Tim Meriwether, I was taking care of myself for a long time before you decided I needed looking after.’ She shoved again, and this time he grabbed her with such force that she felt the bones in her neck pop.

With her forward momentum, he stumbled over an uneven paving stone, lost his footing and went over backward into a manger full of fresh hay, pulling her on top of him.

Before she could shove and claw her way to her feet, He grabbed her around the waist and rolled, pinning her beneath the weight of his body. He gave her no time to think about it, but pulled her into a bruising kiss, forcing her lips apart, probing her hard pallet with his dexterous tongue, biting her lower lip before he came up fighting for the breath to speak. ‘I think about you a lot, Marie,’ His chest rose and fell in hungry gasps. ‘But I promise you, none of those thoughts were even remotely brotherly.’

She bucked underneath him and clawed at his shirt. ‘Then do something about it, damn it, and stop toying with me.’ Several buttons popped and flew across the stable floor. He forced her legs apart with his knee, moving it up to rub against the crotch of her jeans. She shoved his shirt open and arched up to him as he pushed her t-shirt up and manoeuvred and tugged, forcing her breasts free from her bra into his spayed hands and hungry lips.

She fumbles with the fly of his jeans, sliding an anxious hand into his boxers. He huffed a breathless grunt, and the muscles low in his stomach tense as she closed her fingers around his engorged penis and began to stroke.

He had just began the anxious efforts with her own fly when suddenly the stable door slammed shut, and the light bulb overhead exploded in a shower of fine glass plunging the two into total darkness.

Marie yelped, and Tim cursed. As they fought their way to their feet, the mare screamed, and they could hear her struggling.

Tim vaulted over the manger’s edge seconds before Marie, calling back to her. ‘Get the door. Get it open.’

Struggling to secure her jeans with one hand, Marie felt her way along the perimeter of the stable toward the door. The relief was short-lived when her fingers closed around the handle, and it wouldn’t budge.

‘It’s locked,’ she shouted above the desperate cries of the mare.

‘What do you mean, it’s locked,’ Tim shouted back. ‘It doesn’t have a lock. It’ can’t be locked.’

‘I’m telling you it won’t open,’ she yelled back, feeling an icy chill blasting her from behind. With one final tug, the door gave and she tumbled backward on her ass. The sharp knife edge of light that shot through the darkness was blinding, like a flashbulb going off, leaving a deep bruised after image dancing in front of her face, an after image of Deacon.

She cried out and crab walked backward, as he stepped toward her, unfurling his bullwhip, in what seemed like endless slow motion.