Dragons, Diamonds, and a Spanking #BDSM #Sexy #Excerpt

James Bond taught us that Diamonds are forever, but diamonds are for dragons too.

Dragons are famous for their love of baubles and treasure. There’s no better treasure than a rare, sparkly mineral. Here's one gem any dragon would part with his best scale to add add to his collection. Of course, it comes with a curse.  

The Hope Diamond

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, or so Marilyn Monroe sang. However, some are best left well alone—the Hope Diamond among them. Jean Baptiste Tavernier stole an enormous diamond from the statue of the Hindu Goddess, Sita, and sold it to Louis XlV—the Sun King. Tavernier came to a sticky end. Wild dogs tore him apart when he visited Russia. Sita - 1, Tavernier – 0.

The diamond became part of the French crown jewels - the Blue Diamond of the Crown. 78 years later, Louis XVl had it recut to make a decoration for the Order of the Golden Fleece. During the French Revolution, both he and his wife, Marie Antoinette were beheaded. Sita - 2. French Royalty - 0

Looters stole the diamond, but when it re-emerged, Wilhelm Fals, a Dutch jeweler had the diamond again. His son ended up murdering him and then killing himself. Sita – 3, Fals – 0.

Simon Maoncharides, a Greek merchant, owned the diamond for a while. He drove his car over a cliff and killed himself, his wife, and his child. Sita – 4. Merchant - 0

 After Evalyn Walsh McLean wore the diamond, her mother-in-law died, her son died at the age of nine, her husband left her for another woman and Evalyn later died in a mental hospital. Her daughter died of a drug overdose at 25 and she eventually had to sell her newspaper the Washington Post - and died owing huge debts. Sita – 5. Socialites 0.

Her surviving family sold the diamond to Harry Winston. Nine years later, in 1958 he mailed the gem to the Smithsonian for $2.44 in postage and $155 insurance.  

Even that went wrong. James Todd, the mailman who delivered the diamond to the Smithsonian, apparently had his leg crushed in a truck accident shortly thereafter. He also suffered a head injury in a separate accident. Add in that his house burned down and you have to wonder if the Hindu Goddess, Sita, was enjoying her game. The score’s now Sita – 6, Mailman – 0

 Love the idea of dragons and diamonds? Then you'll love my book, Dominated By The Dragon, is about a dragon shifter and the heiress to a diamond company. And guess what? She’s called Hope. Best of all, Hope enjoys a spanking.

Blurb

A former super soldier turned dragon demon must choose between his soul mate and saving the world from a nuclear winter.

The British army’s nuclear testing bonded a dragon into Flynn Hemsworth’s soul. Military scientists vivisected and tortured him until he escaped two years later. Although he’s never aged, he’s been alone and on the run for almost six decades. When he prevents a naked woman from being the prize lot in a coven’s slave auction, he realizes she has an unexplored submissive streak.

Hope Mathews—a sassy blonde with killer keyboard skills—is a strong independent woman. When Flynn prevents her being sold to a demon, she discovers she enjoys spankings and light bondage.

Together Hope and Flynn must shut down a coven of black magicians, rescue kidnapped demons, and stop a black ops nuclear missile hitting the UK. Even if they manage all that, Hope’s the granddaughter of a billionaire while Flynn’s still on the run from the military who want to dissect him again. Can they find common ground and build a life together?

Reader Advisory: Contains explicit language, a virginal heroine who discovers she enjoys spanking and bondage. Add in some serious dragon demon loving, light the blue touch paper, stand back, and watch the sparks fly.

PUBLISHER NOTE: Paranormal BDSM Romance – 63,094 words. BDSM, Exhibitionism, Orgies and Spanking.

Buy Links

Lu  Luminosity                http://luminositypublishing.com/product/dominated-by-the-dragon/ 

A    Amazon US              http://amzn.to/2agfoFI

A    Amazon UK              http://amzn.to/2dvXUIS

All   All Romance             http://bit.ly/29ZkMei

Hope’s First Spanking

She kicked at his shins and tried to duck beneath his arm. Instead, he caught her around her midriff and swung her in front of him. He walked backward toward the open van door, sat on the sill, and draped her over his knee. “Little girl, didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?” He splayed one hand over the small of her back. “Are you done? Or should I spank some sense into you.”
Lost in her adrenaline-fueled haze, Hope still railed at him. “Get off me. Gramps will kill you for this.”
His free hand moved lower, running back and forth across her bare buttocks. His hand felt hot and heavy against her cold flesh. She wriggled and squirmed on his lap, rubbing against his cock as his touch sent shivers through her pussy.
This should be humiliating, but instead, it stoked her desires and sent her into sensual overload. Her breath caught in her lungs, and her heart turned cartwheels in her chest. She felt his erection grow still bigger beneath his jeans. It dug into her belly, rock-hard against her bare flesh. She wondered what it would feel like, naked, skin-to-skin. Yeah, I’m definitely up for hot sex. Or a hot bath. A carb drink and a goodnight’s sleep wouldn’t go amiss either.
She wanted him to teach her about sex and seduction, to make her body submit to his darkest desires. He ran his free hand down her spine, slowly, softly, teasing her until… What is happening here? I’m squished up against his cock and moaning like a whore. “Take your hands off me.”
His palm landed on her bare buttocks, making her thrash and squeal. He increased the pressure on the small of her back, pinning her in place. “You’re going nowhere until you calm down and listen.”
Callous Bastard. How dare he! No one manhandled her like this. Hope felt his dick pulse and grow, and she … liked it. He was hung like a freaking dragon, maybe because he was one. Bill, her verbally abusive ex, could have sung castrato compared to him, but that didn’t give this monster free rein to assault her. Determined to break free, she raked her nails down his calf and tried to sink her teeth into his leg.
His hand came down on her bare behind again. “Well, little girl, I’m waiting.”
Sharp pain made her ass sting as he landed another slap on her tender butt cheeks. She yelped and thrashed against him. Despite her cheeks burning with anger, her pussy grew damper still. How embarrassing is this, and how can I be so turned on?
Her buttocks burned hotter than her cheeks and still he smacked her ass. Feet kicking like a swimmer sprinting for the finish, Hope stiffened her legs. Somehow, when she tried to stand, she ended up on tiptoe, her sore ass high in the air. He ran his hand over it, soothing where he’d spanked. As a powerful, modern-day woman, she wanted to hate the feel of his hand on her bare skin. Only, she didn’t. That didn’t make her any less angry, though. She’d make him pay for this once he released her.
Pinned in place, she gasped when his erection swelled again. She wondered if it tasted as good as it felt. She wanted to suck it between her lips and run her tongue along it until he shuddered and moaned.
Slap. His hand landed so hard she grit her teeth and winced. Her breath came out with an “Ugh.”
She blushed, partly from desire, partly from the way her blanket poncho rode up and bared her bottom. She gave her derriere a pert wiggle she thought might entice him to… No! She wasn’t easy, but damn, she was eager.
She struggled to regain her dignity—too late—and ignored the liquid heat of her arousal pooling between her legs. Finally, she admitted defeat and forced herself to lay still. “Okay, I’m sorry. Now get off me. Gramps won’t pay you a penny if you hurt me.”
He landed a final slap on her buttocks, more playful than punishing, then he stroked his hand between her legs. “What’s a little spanking between friends?”
His fingers came away coated with her hot, sticky cream. Sparks of excitement flowed through her blood, building her unspoken desires. Then, as quickly as he’d upended her across his knee, he released her.
She jumped upright, staggered, and almost fell. He moved faster than she’d thought possible and looped his arm around her waist. She almost sighed at his touch. His touch set her body tingling, and for an instant, she forgot the pain in her buttocks and the constant itch of brimstone on her skin. Rather than meet Flynn’s gaze, she swallowed, kept her eyes downcast, and backed away. Great. Now I’m staring at his crotch.
He grinned and raised his sticky fingers to his lips. “My dragon wants a taste.”

One night in a Dungeon - Read Extracts and Meet the Authors #BDSM #MM #MMM

ONE NIGHT IN A DUNGEON

Are you ready to step into the dungeons and minds of three edge-playing Doms?  Luminosity Publishing brings you the much anticipated, One Night in a Dungeon anthology.  

A collection of red-hot M/M, M/M/M, BDSM stories written especially for you by three international bestselling authors, H.C. Brown, Tamsin Baker, and Dylan McEwan.  

Whatever your flavor, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this erotic mixture of hot stories, chosen by me, especially for the connoisseurs of kink. . . .H.C. Brown

Master Luke by H.C. Brown: 

After so many subs, the men’s names have faded into sated memories of lust, with one exception, Master Luke’s vanilla virgin, Brian, and the one night in his dungeon, he will never forget. 

Master Luke is always looking for a well-lubricated willing ass, and unmarked flesh to flog. He loves men, all men, the twinks, the bears, young, old, innocent or man-whores makes no difference once they are tied to his bench and under his flogger. After so many subs, the men’s names he enjoyed have all faded into sated memories of lust, with one exception, his vanilla virgin, Brian, and the one night in his dungeon, he will never forget.

Excerpt:

I’m looking for down and dirty, hot and willing, so if you’re looking for a happy every after in my dungeon, you’ve come to the wrong guy.

The BDSM club, Red, is my domain. I enjoy the scent of men, especially when wrapped in the rich musky male smell of sex and leather. I like to take my time looking over the mix of subs on offer. They say there is someone for everyone but for me it makes no difference once I have them tied to my bench, and begging for my cock … and they all do … beg, I mean. It is the sweetest sound and almost as good as the little moans they make when they come.

Red is a safe environment with regulation testing for all members, and tonight I’ve set my sights on a sweet piece of virgin ass by the name of Brian. Fuck! The moment, he walked past, his face all flushed, looking around excited, he could have stood on a table and shouted, “Look at me. I’m a vanilla virgin.”

Fuck, my cock hardened so damn hard it made my head spin. He had that cute look, unsullied, fresh, and oh so innocent. I almost came in my pants when he did the unforgivable and met my gaze with a challenge I couldn’t ignore. The noise around me faded into a buzz, and I grabbed his arm to spin him around to face me. “You looking for some action, pup?”

He gave me that, “who me” look and wet his bottom lip in an unconscious come-on. The blush staining his cheeks made my cock grow an extra inch. The damp head pressed against the rough zipper of my pants sending waves of delicious sensation straight to my balls. I wanted to throw him over the nearest table, rip off his pants, and do him dry. I bit back the wave of insatiable need and sucked in a deep breath trying to curb my enthusiasm.

“I–I’m not sure.” He shuffled his feet and his gaze settled on my hard-on. “Maybe…”

Master Tony by Tamsin Baker  

Master Tony is ready to fulfill Nathan's wicked fantasies, and if his sub can go the distance, he might decide to keep him. 

Nathan needs a Dom and a good, long night more than anything. He enters Club Extreme with hopes of meeting Big D Dom—a Dom he’s met online. What he doesn’t expect is for Master Tony to fulfill every fantasy Nathan has ever had, and he invites him back for another night!

Master Tony wants a sub to serve him, to love and whip. Nathan makes all the right noises online, and when they meet in real life, the chemistry is incredible. But he has a decision to make, his sub lives in another state. So what’s a big Dom meant to do when his perfect boy lives so far away?

Excerpt:

The first crack of the whip felt almost soothing. The leather wrapped itself around my belly then flicked back. I grabbed onto the chains and let my head drop.

Over and over the sting of the whip made me cry out, and I loved the burn. My cock was back to half mast, and I let the pain drop me down, down, and further down. I was one with the moment, swaying my hips to the music in my head.

Master Tony flicked the whip in a particularly quick arch, and I’d cried out “yellow” before I made the conscious choice to end the session. He stopped instantly, moving close to press his now naked chest to my burning back.

“Good boy, pretty boy, brave boy.” Master Tony crooned to me and stroked my hair, while the burn in my back turned to something pleasing.

He untied me from the chains, and I cried out at the pain my sore limbs protested. Master Tony rubbed my aching arms as I fell back onto him. He wrapped his arms around me. My eyes were still closed.

“Lie on your tummy, baby boy, and I’ll get the cream.”

I moved forward, but Daddy helped me lie on my belly, my stiff prick hard under me. I didn’t know if he meant lube or cream for my back but at that moment I didn’t care.

Cool fingers rubbed into my back, and I moaned, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Daddy” almost seemed an appropriate term for Master Tony as he cared for me. He massaged the cream into my back in a soothing rhythm, moving down my spine until he found my still-burning ass. I lifted myself up wantonly, and he chuckled.

“On your knees.”

I moved to my knees, lethargy pushed to the back of my mind as my body began to throb with awareness.

Ranulf by Dylan McEwan

With his Viking physique, Nordic godlike features, and insatiable sexual appetite, Ranulf is the supreme Alpha male, a Dom’s Dom—and his underground dungeon is by no means his darkest secret.

Submissive Ryan is head-over-heels in love with the handsome, dominant Brandon Lewis. Ryan doesn’t care that the man can’t commit to monogamy but enjoys an endless string of casual hook-ups and one-night-stands. On the contrary, the masochist revels in being humiliated by Brandon’s boasting of his many conquests. But while the man is so totally open about his casual promiscuity, he is very secretive about the rest of his life, and Ryan knows nothing about his background.

Who is the mysterious Ranulf and what is his relationship with Brandon?

Does his Dom have a Dom of his own?

When promised ‘one helluva night’ and taken to a mysterious underground dungeon, he has no idea that submitting to the Thor-like Nordic Master Ranulf is going to change his life forever, in the most incredulous fantastical way.

A sexually charged, explicit BDSM romance.

Excerpt:

“I knew they'd make a cute cage couple," the leather-clad master commented. “It’s fun watching two subs together.” He went up to the cage and reached a hand between the bars to stroke Kristztian’s hair. “Kiss” he ordered, stepping back again to stand beside the other, lesser Dom.

Ryan pulled back a little from the other lad and looked to Brandon. No matter how many other men they had sex with, the rules were no kissing and no sleeping with. As magnetic and intense as Ranulf was, he couldn’t break their rules for him or for anyone, not without consulting his boyfriend first. Ranulf’s eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together in a hard thin line for a few seconds before speaking.

“My dungeon, my rules. Down here, you do what I say. If you refuse, you will be hurt.”

Adrenalin rushed through Ryan’s body in a fearful glorious surge. He was a little scared, yes, but elated at the same time. After all, as long as he was compliant, there was surely no need to be really afraid; and if Ranulf went too far, Brandon would step in anyway, he would always protect him. He looked back at Kristztian, met his gaze briefly, then leaned in and pressed his mouth against his. He was cool and moist and tasted of cinnamon. He tentatively, slowly, drew his tongue across his lips as an erotic invitation. The invite was accepted – he parted his lips just enough to allow the gentle oral penetration. He lightly rested his hands on the other slave’s shoulders and felt a hand tangling into his hair.

“Tell me, has Ryan ever fucked? Been the top?” Ranulf asked Brandon, still keeping his gaze fixed on their two boys kissing and lightly petting.

“No, never” he replied, shaking his head. “He’s completely submissive. Why?”

“The top isn't always the dominant partner in a relationship, you know, that’s a common misconception” he told him. “And in a BDSM relationship, a total submissive can definitely top if it’s done right. It all depends on how it’s played out. If you have an established and recognized Power Dynamic, then getting your Bottom to Top doesn’t threaten to blur the lines. You’re still completely in control. You can humiliate, embarrass and discomfit a sub by forcing them to fuck, though they usually discover it’s fun after the initial awkwardness is past. You’re getting turned on watching them making out. Imagine watching them screw!” Suppressing a smirk, the more assertive male sat down on the fuck stool beside him, legs wide, hands in pockets. “Kristztian, get his cock out. Make him hard.” he ordered his slave boy, who obeyed without any hesitation.

Buy Links:

http://luminositypublishing.com/product/one-night-in-a-dungeon/

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-onenightinadungeon-2098421-166.html

https://www.amazon.com/One-Night-Dungeon-H-C-Brown-ebook/dp/B01LWVIPDE

      https://play.google.com/store/books/details/H_C_Brown_One_Night_in_a_Dungeon?id=jxgTDQAAQBAJ

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/one-night-in-a-dungeon-2

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

H.C. BROWN

H.C. Brown is a multi-published, bestselling, award-winning author of Historical, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, BDSM, Time Travel, Action Adventure, Suspense, and Contemporary Romance.

In 2016, she was delighted to be named Luminosity Publishing’s Bestselling Author of 2015.

In 2015, she was delighted to be named Luminosity Publishing’s Bestselling Author of 2014.

In 2015, Highlander in the Mist was placed 3rd in Historical and Rock ‘n’ Leather was placed 3rd GLBT in the Easychair Bookshop Competition.

In 2015, Highlander in The Mist was nominated in The Romance Reviews 2015 Readers’ Awards.

In 2011, she was delighted to receive nominations in three categories in the 2011 CAPA Awards: Favorite Author, Best GLBT Romance, and Best Science Fiction Romance.

She was nominated for Best Historical M/M in the 2013, Goodreads Book of Year Awards.

H.C writes about strong alpha male heroes and girl next door heroines in complex settings, and all her stories have happy endings.

H.C. welcomes feedback from her readers.

Connect with H.C.

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

TAMSIN BAKER

Tamsin Baker loves everything erotic. Her books can be long, short and everything in between, but they’ll all be fast-paced with snappy dialogue and lots of sex. No Tamsin Baker book is the same, except there won’t be a lot of angst, as she wants her books to be everything that a fictional world can be—full of happily ever afters, dirty words, and sweet love.

“Love is love” and she tries to show that in a range of sub-genres, from M/M contemporary to paranormal ménage. She has a need to shock people and bring up embarrassing topics at the most inappropriate times.

Connect with Tamsin

Website

Facebook

Twitter

DYLAN McEWAN

Dylan asked for a typewriter for his seventh birthday and has been writing ever since. He had his first short story published in a children’s comic when he was 12 when his main inspiration was Enid Blyton!

Dylan has played with lions, lived in an Iron Age round-hut, slept in a 5000-year-old rock tomb and kayaked white water rapids but now lives a quiet family life in the north of England with his daughter and two sons. He enjoys hiking, camping, ancient history, archaeology, reading, writing poetry, vegan cookery, ancient crafts, LARP costume making, pagan/spiritual activities, and his guilty pleasure is watching yaoi anime.

Dylan writes fantasy, sci-fi, fairy-tale, historical, BDSM, and contemporary gay romance stories and novellas, most with happy endings or at least happy-for-now endings.

Connect with Dylan

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Facebook

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Dominated by the Dragon - Read the 1st chapter here. #BDSM #Spanking #Dragon

Blurb

A former super soldier turned dragon demon must choose between his soul mate and saving the world from a nuclear winter.
The British army’s nuclear testing bonded a dragon into Flynn Hemsworth’s soul. Military scientists vivisected and tortured him until he escaped two years later. Although he’s never aged, he’s been alone and on the run for almost six decades. When he prevents a naked woman from being the prize lot in a coven’s slave auction, he realizes she has an unexplored submissive streak.

Hope Mathews—a sassy blonde with killer keyboard skills—is a strong independent woman. When Flynn prevents her being sold to a demon, she discovers she enjoys spankings and light bondage.
Together Hope and Flynn must shut down a coven of black magicians, rescue kidnapped demons, and stop a black ops nuclear missile hitting the UK. Even if they manage all that, Hope’s the granddaughter of a billionaire while Flynn’s still on the run from the military who want to dissect him again. Can they find common ground and build a life together?

Reader Advisory: Contains explicit language, a virginal heroine who discovers she enjoys spanking and bondage. Add in some serious dragon demon loving, light the blue touch paper, stand back, and watch the sparks fly.
PUBLISHER NOTE: Paranormal BDSM Romance – 63,094 words. BDSM, Exhibitionism, Orgies and Spanking.

Buy links

Luminosity             http://luminositypublishing.com/product/dominated-by-the-dragon/ 

Amazon US              http://amzn.to/2agfoFI

All Romance           http://bit.ly/29ZkMei

Chapter One

CUFFS HELD HOPE’S hands behind her, and a leash ran from the collar at her neck to the top of the cage. Barely able to move, she shivered on the exposed Yorkshire moor. “Hey! That wind’s freezing. We need some clothes here.”

Heads swiveled in her direction, but not one coven member came to her aid. She shivered anew at the malice in their collective gaze. Wrists tensed, she strained at her bonds, but the cuffs didn’t give an inch.

The wind whipped over her bare nipples and whistled around her ears. Legs crossed in an illusion of modesty, she longed for a fur coat. Even pants and bra would be good. Turning her back wasn’t an option since she didn’t dare take her gaze off her captors.

In the second cage, another woman whimpered, “Don’t antagonize them. They’ll only hurt us worse.”

Hope couldn’t imagine worse. Well, since she was about to be the prize lot in their slave auction she could, but she refused to think about that. When they’d learned she was a virgin, she’d become their star attraction. If she could only move, she’d kick the stuffing out of her captors when they came for her. Instead, the metal collar and leash kept her tethered and helpless. She shivered her ass off while the black coven performed perverted sex acts around her.

The full moon splayed the landscape in silver light. The wind carried drops of drizzle. Black boulders, head high or taller, dotted the moor. A stone altar rose out the heather, midway between the skyline and the makeshift car park at the foot of the hill.

Wind rustled the long grass. Before the coven had started going at it like rabbits, she’d heard owls hoot in the distance. Dark magic swirled over the hillside, chilling her soul and setting her trembling inside. Her skin itched and her stomach heaved. Fear constricted her throat, but humiliated and frozen, she clung to the last shreds of her anger. Head high, she studied the alfresco sex going on all around her.

A woman screamed out her satisfaction as one man lay atop her and banged her missionary style. Another man lay beneath her, and ass fucked her from below. Hope couldn’t take her eyes off them. Other women knelt on all fours, uncaring who screwed them. One exhibitionist writhed atop the altar while her triad of lovers took turns to suck on her breasts or her pussy.

Around her, masked witches and warlocks shagged as though the world ended tonight. For her, if she didn’t find a way out of here, it might. Her captors looked like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in those masks. She’d laugh if her situation weren’t so dire.

Hope had never seen so many naked people or imagined they’d perform sex acts in public. Most of the coven had red diamonds tattooed on their arms, the way gang members sported their insignia. After tonight, she’d never admire a man’s tattoos again.

The endless variety of sex fascinated her, and her gaze felt glued to the coven as they indulged in wild sex. She hadn’t known so many different positions were possible, and some of them must hurt. When she looked closer, the coven all still wore their shoes. Who knew black magicians didn’t mind getting their hands dirty but liked to keep their feet clean?

The woman in the next cell wept noisily. Her long brown hair tumbled over her breasts, hiding them so well only her nipples poked through. Hope wore her hair in a short, pixie style, and while platinum blonde spikes framed her face, they didn't hide her bare body. Much as she loved her short, easy-care hairstyle, she wished she’d let her hair grow as long as Lady Godiva’s.

Another gust of wind set her shivering again. Unnaturally thin, she could practically hear her grandfather telling her to eat more. She’d only throw up if she did. Her captors hadn’t fed them, but all skinny hips and toned muscle, she greeted hunger like an old friend.

Hope dreamed of being a curvy hipped beauty, but she’d have to recover from her food allergy first. Only, caged on a windswept moor, this wasn’t the time to worry about her eating disorder. Soon they’d auction her off to some sleazebag with a perform-in-public fetish.

Fear rolled red-hot through her gut—fireballs that pierced her shield of anger and threatened to consume her. She leaned as close to the brunette as the damn leash would allow her. “Try to stay strong.”

The brunette sobbed harder. “I’m Krystal Ellis. If you make it out of here, tell the police my name. Don’t let them forget me. God, all I want is to go home. I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

Hope shivered again. “Probably drugs. The last thing I remember was drinking a coffee that tasted off. When I woke up, I was naked and chained. What about you?”

Krystal sniffed hard, trying to stem her tears. “My boyfriend. Well, my ex. He asked me to meet him for lunch and like a fool I did. I don’t remember anything after he bought me a super-spiced samosa. Maybe there was something off in them.”

Like Krystal, Hope wanted out of the cage and off the windswept moor. Not knowing how to answer, she called out to her captors. “You lot out there, do you want us to die of exposure? We won’t be worth anything if we’re dead.”

The orgy’s participants ignored her. The more they screwed, the stronger the stench of brimstone became. As the dark miasma thickened, clouds blotted out the night sky. The wind gusted around the captives. Hope shivered so hard that even her goose bumps turned blue.

One of her captors—the pompous, pigeon-chested one—shoved at the woman writhing atop the stone slab. Without opening her eyes, she let rip a string of cuss words.

The warlock growled something inaudible. The woman’s eyebrows rose so high they vanished beneath her fringe, and she skedaddled to the rear of the circle so fast her feet could have been on fire. Her collection of lovers weren’t far behind.

Pigeon-chest grinned and stepped onto the slab. Arms aloft, he surveyed the spectators and smiled. Hope hated how he didn’t shiver when the wind whistled around his exposed bits. He didn’t even have goose bumps. His giant hard-on could have poked someone’s eye out, and his grin—pure evil—chipped away at her confidence.

Transfixed by his stare, Krystal finally whispered, “What’s he doing?”

Hope swallowed hard. Her eyes opened like china blue saucers and her lips thinned into a narrow line. “I’m no expert, but my mom had a stash of books about spells, demons, and other supernatural stuff. I think he’s feeding off the dark power those idiots create as they fuck—if such a thing’s possible.

Just before her twenty-first birthday, she’d found her mother’s occult books in the loft. She’d settled down to read them, but her grandfather hated anything that smacked of magic. The only time he’d ever raised his voice to her was when he caught her studying the arcane rites contained in those books. She’d given in gracefully and let him take them. Later, when she stumbled on her mom’s annotated copy of Secrets of the Occult, she’d kept it hidden. The illustrations of demons and monsters had fascinated her.

Close by, Krystal wailed. Fear spiraled out from her and spread over the moor like spiderwebs. Her terror battered at Hope’s courage and left her trembling in her bonds.

The wind felt like sandpaper stripping the heat from her body. Her skin itched and burned. If her arms were loose, she’d have a damn good scratch. Instead, she backed against the cage’s bars and wriggled like a bear rubbing against a tree.

The crowd quieted. Krystal’s scream reverberated around damp moorland when two coven members dragged her toward the altar. The guy with the pigeon chest and a dick like the over-endowed Greek God, Priapus, enjoyed her distress.

His followers tethered Krystal’s leash to an iron ring hammered into the stone altar at his feet. They released her wrists, forced her atop the altar, and chained her legs wide open.

Clearly terrified, she punched one thug in the face. He backhanded her across her cheek. Hard as she struggled, she couldn’t break free. Finally, body trembling, breathing quick and shallow, she whimpered at Pigeon-chest’s feet.

Caged, bound, and helpless, all Hope could do was stare. She wanted to slap the grin off the chief warlock’s face, grab Krystal, and run. Horror sent cold chills down Hope’s spine, and she prayed she’d hold it together when they came for her.

Big Dick stood—all obscene genitals and medieval plague doctor mask—one foot either side of Krystal as she struggled beneath him. Hope hated the way he puffed out his chest and smirked with voyeuristic glee.

A small gesture, a tiny wave of his hand, and Krystal turned submissive. One minute she spat defiance and fought for her freedom. The next, she stroked her exposed clit and mewled like a she-cat in heat.

If Hope didn’t find some way to escape, they’d come for her next. She needed to make their captors see them as human, not commodities they could sell to the highest bidder. “Krystal, her name is Krystal. She just wants to go home.”

Krystal arched her back, making her generous breasts jiggle. At another gesture from the warlock, she slid one finger inside her pussy. Beneath her exhibitionist sex, she emanated fear and despair. Again the chief warlock gestured toward her, and she rode her own fingers.

The ridiculous cock he wore had to be a strap-on—didn’t it? Or maybe a magical, one-night-only extension. She could almost hear her grandfather’s protest. There’s no such thing as magic. It’s all hoodoo and power of suggestion. Only this felt all too real.

The monster straddling Krystal would never be able to wear trousers if that thing between his legs was for real. Hell, mothers would cover their children’s eyes if they spotted him walking along the street. Arms raised, he chanted a Latin incantation. The drizzle turned into steady rain, but the black coven didn’t cover up.

Malice spread across the moor in a sonic boom of black mist. When the thunderclap died away, five humanoids appeared in the mist. Krystal screamed and started to shake. “Are they banshees come for our souls?”

Hope didn’t know much about the occult, but those things had to be demons. Two of them linked arms, yipped, and exchanged juvenile grins. They ignored Hope and honed in on Krystal as she writhed on the altar. One sniffed her hair, and the other sniffed her between her legs. They looked exactly like the wolf demons in her mother’s book. There’s no such thing as demons, but…

The pair with a rash of black spots running down the left side of their faces—hyena demons, if she remembered rightly—fingered Krystal’s breasts. They were walking illustrations from Secrets of the Occult or an illustrated medieval manuscript. The fifth flicked his forked tongue along the vein in Krystal’s neck.

Krystal’s terror held a musky scent overlaid with the stench of brimstone as she orgasmed for the spectator’s delight—and still she rode her fingers. Her desperate smile didn’t touch her eyes, and her expression set so hard she looked like she’d overdosed on Botox.

For the first time, tears misted Hope’s vision. If her captors had cared enough to feed her, she’d have heaved. She hated feeling this helpless, and she hated the men who did this to them. Not as much as she hated this cage though. If she could break free, she’d grab Krystal, and they’d fight their way off the moor.

Big dick over there deserved a kick in the oversized balls. Martial arts trained, Hope longed to be the kicker. She gave those things with pointed ears and too much facial hair her fiercest death stare, not that they noticed.

The warlock chanted an incantation that put Krystal in deep stasis. Hope knew it was impossible, but even her computer-quick mind couldn’t find a rational explanation. And what are those creatures sniffing around Krystal? Monsters from my worst nightmare, perhaps.

They walked upright on two feet. Their bodies were humanoid, but they’d never pass as human. The pair with the pricked up ears—wolf demons—had faces like squashed up snouts. Tufts of hair sprouted around their faces and covered their hands. Their eyebrows almost merged with their hair.

The ones with dappled skins and sharp teeth giggled. Their faces looked like normal hyenas who’d been smacked in the face with smoothing irons. Now, if her hands were free and she had an iron…

The hyena creatures sneered at the wolfy ones in a Capulet and Montague type standoff. Ideally, they’d turn on each other. Hope swallowed hard and lifted her chin, trying to look brave and praying they didn’t want her.

The last demon had a completely bald head and no facial hair. His skin looked dry and flaky. She thought of him touching her and shuddered. Scaly skin and forked tongue—the one she feared most—glared in her direction and hissed, “Ssshee’ss mine.”

Isobel by @Aden__James #YA #Ghost #firefighter

Check out Isobel by Aden James
Please note; 
Two charities will EACH receive 35% of any net profit resulting from eBook sales of ‘Isobel’. The two charities are personal to the author and neither has participated nor endorsed the publication of this story. 
The two charities are: 
1. The Fire Fighters Charity is the UK’s leading provider of services that enhance the quality of life for serving and retired firefighters, fire personnel, and their families. Their vision is to make a positive difference by supporting people in the fire and rescue community when they are in need. 

2. The RSPCA (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) work hard to ensure that all animals can live a life free from pain and suffering. Through their campaigns, they raise standards of care and awareness of issues for the animals who have no voice. They push for laws to be changed, improving the welfare of animals on farms, in research labs, in the wild, in paddocks or in our homes Through investigations and prosecutions they stand up to those who deliberately harm animals. 

Thank you. 
Aden James 

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Blurb

People frequently take extra work home at end of their day; however, I doubt many take the 21-gram soul of a young woman. 

Following another fatal road accident, fire-fighter Steve Moran must now deal with the unexpected aftermath. ‘Isobel’ is a cautionary tale, that brings together the deceased casualty, the fire-fighter who extricated her impaled body from the wreckage on that sunny August day in 2010, and a malevolent spirit of a young soldier killed in 1944; that seeks retribution for his untimely death. Their sad union, and those of several others, all orchestrated by the Ferryman himself.  

#SastSpanks - Caleb ties and Spanks Sylvie.

Book bargain --- To Wed a Werewolf now less than half price on the Loose id website. 
Now an All Romance best seller.

Sylvie, the heroine of To Wed a Werewolf, is trying to stop an interspecies war, but she needs to stop her former fiance's wedding to do it. 
Believing she's a money grubbing whore, the Lyke King carries her off and sexually torments her. Her torment starts with a spanking.

He sat on the bed and slid his legs beneath her slender body. With infinite patience, he positioned her across his lap, then ran a gentle hand over her panties. Okay, her wolf-man liked it kinky, but as long as he let her come, she could live with that. Nervous, eager, and helpless, she ground her hips against him.

“Tempting me, sweetness? Sorry, but your power games don’t work on me.”

A sudden slap on her ass sent pain shooting through her and heightened her need. She couldn’t enjoy this, could she? He hurt and humiliated her, but her body thrashed with desire, and her hips gyrated over his dick. Another sharp slap made her shudder, but her pride came to her rescue, and she never made a sound. A third made her bite her tongue until blood filled her mouth. She held her breath and waited, but how could she want this? Somehow she’d escape him; then her brother would kill him and serve up his entrails on a plate.

“Don’t be stubborn, sweetness. Just ask me to stop.”

She tensed and said nothing. Four, five, and six left her butt bruised and hurting, but seven started a tingling heat that spread over her ass and into her pussy. She wanted to hate him, but eight had her moaning. Nine made her hips rotate and hunt for his prick, and ten… Oh God, ten was an avalanche of pain that pushed her to the edge of something momentous and huge.

“Damn it, Sylvie.” He stopped abruptly; then he rubbed his hand over her butt, soothing where he’d just spanked, “You drive me insane.”

Insane? She felt the madness inside him, and while she knew he wanted her body, she didn’t understand why she wanted him just as badly—not after the way he insulted and humiliated her. Sex. It had to come down to sex.

Blurb

Sylvie's more human librarian than half-blood Fae princess and she definitely prefers books to men. Then, she learns her unwanted Lykae fiancée is marrying someone else. If she doesn't stop the wedding, the Fae will resume the border war with the Werewolf nation. A high-handed Lykae security guard blocks her every move, and when her plans go awry, she's kidnapped, stripped, and bound for his pleasure.

Caleb the Cold, King of the Lykae, will do anything to make his younger brother's wedding special--even pretend he's a security guard and kidnap his brother's former fiancée. Punishing her is pure pleasure, until he realizes she's his mate. Now he needs to woo the woman he's tormented to the edge of madness, but is it too late to claim her heart, and make her his?

Buy Links

• Loose id
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• Amazon Australia
• All romance

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