Sunday, February 18, 2018

Birthday Fantasy Goes Horribly Wrong!

Happy birthday to you February babies!

I was born in February too. I'm a card-carrying picture-perfect Pisces. My creative juices usually come out in my books, but well, sometimes, they're released in other ways. I jotted this little scene last year. Why? Because I turned 50 and realized some of my darker fantasies were getting further and further out of reach.  If you're like me, you have a list of kinky, dangerous, or simply romantic fantasies that you want to try before you die. I've got a bunch that probably won't happen, but they're nice motivation to keep up my remedial yoga classes. They make for excellent daydreams, but when it comes to actually doing these things, well ... The mind says YES! Let's do that! The out of shape body says UM, is that even physically possible now? Seriously? You'll never walk upright again!

Can you relate? If so, read on and chuckle with me.

BDSM Fantasy No. 1

She was in pain.
And not the good kind either. This was ordinary pain. Stubbed toe, sprained ankle, pulled muscle kind of pain. It was the kind of pain that made you want to jump around holding the offending body part and swearing like the proverbial sailor. Or maybe a pirate if the toe happened to be the pinky and you ripped the nail off.

It was her birthday. This was her gift to herself. She was living a fantasy. Sure. That’s what she was telling herself over and over again in a desperate attempt to escape the pain.

The books never mention what happens when an out-of-shape middle-aged woman who’s had several babies is tied up for too long. Nope. They never describe how the sexy ropes dig into the cellulite, or how the knots press into just the right spot so you get a charley horse. Apparently no one in the books ever has to pee either. Probably she should’ve skipped that third glass of wine.

Those fictional pain junkies must be in great shape. Yoga or Pilates? Has to be one or the other, right? No one ever talks about cramping. In the books, these women have orgasms flying left and right while trussed up like a luau pig. Maybe she should’ve tried exercising before agreeing to this. A few stretches would’ve been a good idea. Ow. Her overly-tight hamstrings were screaming in protest. How far could they stretch before one of them snapped like a rubber band? No one in the books ever gets a cramp in their big toe either. She wiggled it and the cramp shot straight across the arch of her foot. 

Hey, buddy, let’s hurry up with that orgasm so I can pee.

Really didn’t need that third glass. She tried to shift her thigh to the right with the hope that would take some pressure from her bladder before she embarrassed herself. She thought about smiling. Her dom for the night wanted to know if she squirted.

Well... not usually.

Totally oblivious to her inner monologue, said dom circled her while dragging the leather flogger across her ass. Hard to miss it, really. It was the size of a Fiat at the moment--A blindingly white Fiat that hadn’t seen the rays of the sun in, oh, maybe never.

So it was her birthday and here she was lying on her face, hands bound, legs bound, mouth gagged, wincing as sweat ran into her eyes. Her bare ass stuck straight in the air with her pussy hanging out for him to tease. He ran the handle of the flogger between her cheeks to tap the entrance to her backdoor. Or was the correct term ‘rosebud’ or ‘puckered love knot?’ Who the fuck cares? The tiny little hole folded in on itself in an attempt to remain ‘exit only.’ Tap, tap, tap.

Knock all you want, big bad wolf. This little door’s locked up tight.

Too bad her front door, pussy, cunt, channel, man cave, whatever the hell it was called, wasn’t as shy. It was twitching like an exposed electrical wire. Uh-oh. Every little movement tickled her bladder. The man in the mask chuckled again. The evil sound didn’t bode well. The last time he’d made that sound was just before he shoved the ball gag into her mouth. Squeezing her eyes shut and wishing she’d done more Kegels, she squealed in protest as a stream of cold, oily gunk flowed down the center of her crease.

“Hold still now. This is my favorite,” the dom said. He sounded so happy with himself.

What was he doing back there?
His next question answered hers. “How do you feel about butt plugs?”

No, No! Wait! That is not okay, mister!

Before she knew it, the tip of something much bigger than his finger nudged at the tight little opening. She stiffened and tried to move away. Busily twisting and turning the thing in her ass, he murmured something encouraging and no doubt bossy, before stopping to douse her in an extra glob of cold lube.

You know how when you have to pee really badly, and when you jump into the cold water of the pool, you have to pee more?

Um, yeah. It was just like that.

So it turns out she’s a squirter after all.

I've got three new books coming in 2018! Want to keep up with me? Here are some ways to do that:

Friday, February 16, 2018

Black Light: Roulette Redux: Now that’s the way to celebrate Valentine’s Day!

I hope you had a wonderful Valentine’s Day, whether you spent it with your significant other or your girlfriends. I actually love the idea of Galentine’s Day. I don’t think we celebrate our friendships as much as we should. I know that the women in my life provide the bedrock of support, whether I interact with them personally in my day-to-day life or online through my writer and reader support groups. 

I spent the latter part of my Valentine’s Day evening diving into Black Light: Roulette Redux. As I mentioned in last month’s blog, I met a wonderful group of writers at A Dark and Seductive Affair, many of whom are featured in this volume of titillating, unique, fun, and sexy stories. The premise is a matching of Doms and subs at Black Light, an exclusive BDSM club, using a roulette wheel, and then determining how they will play by using another one with a listing of BDSM activities. As they did in the first volume last year (hence the Redux in the title), the stories explore varied kinds of play, many of which expand the boundaries of the usual BDSM novels. 

This is an incredibly talented group of writers. There isn’t a clinker in the bunch. Jennifer Bene and Livia Grant not only write their own stories but they write the intro and wrap-up of the anthology. They are also the publishers of the book, along with a number of other noteworthy titles from their publishing company Black Collar Press. You should definitely check them out.

I have started a new Facebook group called Rose's Garden of Delights. I will be posting about my writing progress, talking about kink, and have already featured many recipes for my #Tasty Tuesday, with a new recipe each week. Come join me at

Thursday, February 15, 2018


I'm a sucker for romantic comedies, and while I've tried to coerce the boy into getting in touch with his feminine side by watching some with me, alas, his 15-year-old self says, "Uh, no thanks. I'm going to watch anime on my phone." 

That's okay. I've seen these rom-coms so many times, I feel like I'm in them. Behold, my top 10!

10. Pretty Woman

      If you can get over the whole Cinderella hooker thing and forget the fact that most prostitutes on Hollywood Blvd. wind up dead from an overdose in a back alley somewhere, this is an adorable movie. Why? Because Julia Roberts is freaking adorable in it. Her charm is undeniable. And even though no one watching will ever believe Ms. Roberts is hooker material, she and Richard Gere have great chemistry together.  

9. 50 First Dates

    Many people cannot stomach Adam Sandler films because most of them are, well, dumb, but this one is actually quite endearing. I love Drew Barrymore, and she brings a lot of heart to this role as someone who replays the same day over and over again. The ending always makes me cry, further reinforcing my belief that every woman deserves a man who loves her that much, despite the obstacles. 

8. Crazy, Stupid Love

    A surprisingly insightful film about marriage and relationships, and believing the grass is always greener...This was my first time seeing Emma Stone in anything, and I now have an official fangirl crush on her because she's so damn cute in this. Ryan Gosling pulls off the whole Casanova player thing without being a douchebag, but I gotta say, even if he had been a big ole D-bag, it wouldn't have mattered once he takes off his shirt. Yes, he's that yummy. Meow. 

7. Moonstruck

    I have a special place in my heart for this one, probably because I grew up in an Italian family so I can relate to many of the elements in this movie, and also because they filmed the bakery scenes a block from my childhood home, so that was pretty exciting. Cher is feisty in this one; she does the best slap across the face out of anyone. And anyone who has been married for more than 20 years will appreciate the rocky-patch realism of Cher's parents, the ever talented Olympia Dukakis and Vincent Gardenia. 

6. Love Actually

    You either love it or hate it. People argue it's not a Christmas movie, but I watch it every year during Christmas. There's a storyline for everyone, with a great cast of characters, so unless your heart is made of stone (in which case, Die Hard may be more your speed), I can almost guarantee you'll be singing "All I Want for Christmas Is You" for 2 entire weeks after. If nothing else, watching it for Bill Nighy's cheekiness alone makes it worth it.

5. Hitch

    Kevin James as a leading man? I know, I know, but he pulls it off with a lot of help from Will Smith, who excels in the art of smooth-talking the ladies. And even though supermodels who are thrown into movies usually bomb heavily, Amber Valletta manages to convey a nerdy charm that makes it a bit more believable that she could ever fall for a bumbling idiot like James. 

4. The Proposal

    Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. Enough said.

3. You've Got Mail

     This movie captures that delicate, still somewhat innocent period right before the explosion of the digital age, when you had to wait to get home before you could check your email. Ooooh, the anticipation was positively delicious, and Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks convey it well. Unfortunately, it accurately depicts the downfall of small mom and pop businesses due to being swallowed up by huge corporate entities (an inevitable phenomenon that makes me cry), but if you focus on this enemies-to-friends budding romance, it'll take you back to a kinder, gentler time.    

2. Dirty Dancing

    Where do I start with this one? Bad boy/good girl is one of my favorite tropes and no one does it better than Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. The dancing, the bodies, the music, the heat between these two...make for one hot film. 

1. When Harry Met Sally

    I've probably seen this movie a thousand times and still, it never gets old. Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal are masters of timing. The dialogue is fast, tight, and so spot on, and director Rob Reiner does a fabulous job with the 10-year + time span. The unlikeliest of couples ultimately become the couple you cannot imagine apart, or coupled with anyone else in this friends to lovers story. There is still no better Profession of Love speech than this one by Crystal at the end. Sigh. Swoon.

What are some of your favorites?

Tiffany N. York wishes she lived every day in a romantic comedy, preferably with either of the two Ryans (Reynolds or Gosling), or both. To learn about her two romantic comedies, The Accidental Cougar and The Meatball Mistress, visit her website at 


Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Love by Jennifer Kacey

This Valentine's Day my wish for everyone is a day filled with love.
Whether that be from an amazingly sexy significant other, a sibling, a parent, a child, a furry friend, a co worker, a one night stand, or even a stranger on the street. 

Find a moment to stop and be thankful for something you love.
Good sleep.
A day with no pain.
A coffee cup shaped like poop. :)
A new show you found on Netflix.
Your favorite chocolate you found at the store.
A stranger whistling at your hotness.
Anything that makes you smile and reminds you to keep going and keep fighting for your own level of awesome, whatever that may be.

 Happy Happy Valentine's Day from all of us at the....

Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Sunday, February 4, 2018

Consent- 2018

Consent. A year ago I posted a blog about consent and look where we are now. (insert sigh and eyeroll)

There are many, many, many different directions the topic of consent can take and should take. These are important discussions we as a society need to have to better communicate with our fellow human beings. And we need more of these discussions. Now, I am not going to tackle all of them here, but I am going to address one topic that I saw recently on Twitter because it ties directly into my world.

There was a Twitter user who made a comment about how discussing one’s sexual preferences during courtship made sex boring and passionless. I so wish I could find that tweet to share here. But to this man I say, “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!”

If you cannot discuss your wants and desires with a potential partner, you are not ready to have sex. Not only is it establishing an open line of communication, but you are also establishing consent. Not to mention engaging in one of the best parts of sex- foreplay.

Of course, there is a right and wrong way to begin that line of dialogue. Please, do not approach a person you have just become acquainted with and vomit out a sentence resembling “So, do you wanna suck my dick?” or something of the like. That is not effective or constructive communication.

We should take a cue from the BDSM community where it’s all about open communication and consent. While under their care, a good Dom will see not only to your physical needs, but emotional ones too. *Side note- If you meet someone who claims to be in the lifestyle and doesn’t ask you about your preferences, they are a fraud and you run away as quick as you can.

In the early days of my relationship with my boyfriend, one of the first things we did was go down a list of sexual preferences and communication styles to see if we were compatible. Let me tell you, that was not a boring conversation. I had a handsome man willing to listen to what I had to say and sharing all of the ways he wanted to make me scream- uh, happy. Make me happy. ;) Come on. How is that a bad thing?

Get your copy today
That night reminded me of a scene from my book Only at The Cavern. The hero, police captain Marco DeWinter, wanted to enter into a D/s relationship with the sexy emergency room doctor he had just discovered was a dominatrix. At first she does not want to mix anyone and anything from her personal life with her BDSM life, but she decides to give it a try and sends him an invitation to join her. The invitation blows his mind along with the lengthy questionnaire attached asking him about his preferences. When the two meet at an elegant restaurant to discuss the deal, more sparks fly.


She sat back, straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Bam. Mistress Jasmina had returned. “Did you bring the contract with you?”

“I did.” He withdrew the tri-folded pages from his inside jacket pocket and set them before her.

On the surface, Jasmine was like a serene lake. Quiet, tranquil, nary a ripple disturbing the placid scene. But as he sipped his beer and watched as she read over the pages, he saw the myriad emotions cross her features that were so slight, only his knowledge of micro-expressions caught the movements.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly in concentration. When she was pleased, she tilted her head to the left in a tiny nod. The briefest flicker of a brow, a tick near the corner of her mouth when she was amused, all her thoughts played out across her beautiful face.

Then she came to the page of the long list of acts he was willing to engage in. He sat up in his seat as she ran her finger down each checked box. Occasionally she would glance his way with a calculating eye, and he felt sweat began to gather on his upper lip. What had she read that made her look at him as if she already imagined him at her mercy?

She tapped at the paper. “You have no desire at all in a homoerotic encounter?”

At the mention of the word, his ass clenched tight and his heart skipped a beat. “Nope. Not in the slightest. Sorry, Doc.”

A grin tugged at her lips and she sighed. “Pity.”

There were a lot of things he marked as undecided, but touching another dude in that way? Or have another dude touch him? Uh-uh. Not going there.

“Well, there is certainly enough here for me to work with.” She set the contract down and skimmed her hands down her side. “Did you have any questions for me?”

“Yeah, what exactly is expected of me? I know in the contract we have a designated meeting time, but will I be at your beck and call?”

“Not at all. What I expect from you is your respect and courtesy. The moment you walk through The Cavern’s door, your time belongs to me. I understand that your work schedule is unpredictable, as is mine, but when we’re together, nothing else exists. When you are out and about your day, you are welcome to do as you wish. If a work situation arises, you will give me as much notice as possible. On occasion I may send you an instruction, but don’t fret. I will never ask you to do anything that may cause an embarrassing situation.”

“So no orders for me to wear a pink g-string under my work clothes?”

The husky notes of her laughter made his abs clench and his hands flinch, eager to gather her close to feel the vibrations against his skin.

“What you wear to work is entirely up to you.”

“That’s a relief.” He slid the chalice back and forth on the tabletop and hoped he sounded nonchalant as he asked, “And we’re to refrain from intimate relationships outside the, uh, dungeon, right?”

The question was more to confirm her stance than his. Between pining for Brett and the Smithwick case, a girlfriend never fit into his life, and he had grown tired of one-night stands years ago. And selfish as it might seem, considering she wasn’t his girlfriend, he wanted Jasmine all to himself.

She chuckled again. “I have yet to meet a woman who allowed her significant other to visit a dominatrix. Although I guess there might be one or two in existence. So, yes. I will insist that we remain exclusive. I like to devote all of my attention to one man. However, I may bring in another on occasion to assist with a scene, for the most part it will be just you and I.”

A hundred different scenarios of who those people might be and how they were going to assist flashed through his mind, one dirtier then the next, and he felt the buzz of anticipation raise the fine hairs on his neck and arms.

“Where do I sign?” he asked in a voice far raspier than he intended.

Respect. That is the key. Being open to another’s thoughts and being open with yours. Respect the person enough to listen. Respectfully say no if not interested. And most important, respectfully accept that no if given.

The first person you must demand respect from is you. Respect yourself and be honest with what you want. Take charge of your passions and desires and demand to be heard if respect is not given. Easier said than done. I know. Believe me, I know. But you have to start somewhere, and being honest with yourself is step one.

Until next time y'all!

Anna- The Super Diva

Amazon Page

Saturday, February 3, 2018

Valentine's Day Prep by @elle_rush

I like Valentine's Day. I like it now that I have someone to share it with. And I liked it when I was single. I always got chocolate (I swear all my posts relate back to food) and Valentine's Day presents, even if I bought them for myself. Because I'm worth it, dammit.

I'm aware I can come off sounding like a Pollyanna, being chipper and smiling all the time. I work hard at staying positive, because the world doesn't need my help coming up with bad news. (Like everyone, I have my down days, but I fight through them, either alone or with help.)

But Valentine's Day shouldn't be work for anyone.

Be your own Valentine. Instead of dreading it, make it good for you. It's a Wednesday this year, so most of us will be working. Fill the whole day with "you" stuff. Sharing your day with others is optional (although probably appreciated if you have a significant other.)
  1. Spritz on the expensive perfume.
  2. Wear the fancy underwear.
  3. Do you like chocolate? Get yourself some good stuff. You don't need the whole heart-shaped box (but if you want it, go ahead) At the very least you should get yourself a chocolate bar.
  4. Wine? Open that bottle. Use a crystal wine glass. You are worth the dirty dishes.
  5. Are you on a diet because you are working hard on your health? Pick up a fancy ingredient or two for your lunch salad or supper, or an exotic fruit for dessert. Eat dinner off your good china. 
  6. Light the fancy candle you've been saving.
  7. Let the pampering continue. Do you like bubble baths? Fill that tub. Relax in that steamy showers? Give yourself a pedicure. Heck, do the whole spa thing if you can afford it.
  8. Watch that movie. Do you want a romantic comedy to fill your heart? Or do you need to watch shit blow up because some people have it coming by proxy? You get to pick. Or, start looking for the perfect book to dive into. You have ten days--you can find something.
Some of us have kids. Tell them now that you expect a Valentine. Subtly is overrated. Put it out there. To S.O.'s too. If they fall down on the job, you have yourself covered, but the extra "I love you" never hurts.

Some of us don't have extra money to spend on ourselves. Take the time to acknowledge what you do have for yourself. You did that. You are doing awesome, and getting through every day is a huge accomplishment. Even if you can't celebrate all the ways you want to, you still deserve to know you are awesome.

Start getting ready now. You can have the Valentine's Day you deserve. And it should be amazing, because you are.

SCREEN IDOL is a sweet romance set in Hollywood on Valentine's Day. It's only 99 cents. Check it out.

Sydney Richardson should have trusted her instincts and locked the door when a Greek god appeared on her doorstep at sunrise. After months of work, she needs every second of the day to wrap up a two-part fundraiser for burn victims like herself and she can't afford to waste time with a TV hunk, no matter how good he looks in a toga. 

Chris Peck, worshipped by millions as Zeus on the hit drama Olympus, desperately wants to prove to the producers of a soon-to-be-cast romantic comedy that he doesn’t need fight scenes or special effects to make the jump to the big screen. Acting as the slave-for-a-day in the show’s fan appreciation contest was supposed to cement his everyman credibility but the winner wants nothing to do with him. 

Chris is captivated by the woman who refuses to fawn over his looks and fame, and he promises to put her fundraising efforts over the top if she’ll spend the day with him. However, just when he convinces Sydney they could have a chance together, the movie’s producers offer him an audition that would mean breaking his promise and leaving Sydney in the lurch. The king of the gods has until sunset to prove to his new off-screen love interest that Hollywood magic and reality can co-exist.

Friday, February 2, 2018

Loving the Alien... By Ripley Proserpina

This summer, I was introduced to an amazing group of authors who had one thing in common they all wrote sci-fi and sci-fi romance. Now, I love science fiction and romance, but it was only in the last two or three years that I found books that combined the genres. Sci-fi is a bit intimidating. Not only are there literal worlds to create, but all those things we take for granted, measurements of distance and time, human biology, not to mention physics, are up for debate. 
Then these wonderful authors, these ones I'd come to admire, had a great idea. Let's write a universe together. 
And so the Valos of Sonhadra were born. I'm going to share with you the nine books, due for releasing FEBRUARY 15TH! The authors of the series were nice enough to share some very spicy excerpts with you! Enjoy! 

Valos of Sonhadra is a standalone series of nine-books. All nine books will be released on the same day, but don't need to be read in order!

Welcome to Sonhadra
A prison ship fell through a wormhole and crashed into an uninhabited world. 
Now it’s every woman for herself in a scramble to flee the wreckage. Can they survive on an alien planet, especially since it’s not as undiscovered as they originally thought? 

Poppy Rhys kicks off the series with Tempest.

They can’t break me.

I wasn’t prepared for what came after I got arrested and sent to prison. Finding my sister in that hellhole should’ve been easy.

I wasn’t prepared to survive an alien planet straight out of a prehistoric nightmare. Facing my fears to withstand the creatures that wanted to eat me, and the four alien men that watched me like a morsel they wanted to sink their teeth into…

I wasn’t prepared for any of it.

But I sure as hell wouldn’t let it break me.
Poppy's Amazon page is here!
Here's a sneak peek from Poppy!

I cuddled closer to my body pillow, one of those feel-good spasms running through my muscles and relaxing me further.
Mmmm,” my pillow groaned, and my lips spread into a sleepy grin.
I froze.
A pillow wouldn’t groan, or feel warm, or have a heartbeat that thundered in my ear.
I opened my eyes.
My immediate sight was a dusky, gray-blue chest, and matching arms caging me. I peeled my cheek away from the rippling muscle and blinked repeatedly, seconds ticking by as I tried to understand what was going on.


Amanda Milo is up next with Alluvial!
Someone’s using me as leverage against my family. I was your average citizen, innocent of any crime worth going to prison for, and yet here I am.
But this isn’t a regular prison ship.
They alter me. And when the ship crashes on an alien planet, some of my new abilities come in quite handy—it’s the side effects that aren’t entirely welcome.
Not by me, anyway. The tribe of aliens that have taken me captive?
They don’t seem to mind.

 Amanda's Amazon page is here!

And she's given us a tasty little teaser!

The guard’s collective, brilliant plan is to send a few unlucky persons—a.k.a cannon fodder—out into the alien landscape we’ve crashed into.
It’s dark, and creepy, but thanks to the ship, we’ve got some floodlights, which manage to provide exactly enough illumination into the forest to scare the bejeesus out of us.
A tree off to my right is dripping a slightly opaque substance off of it’s branches like a Saint Bernard slobbers.  A naked, wrinkled green beastie clings to the underside of a branch, gobbling up everything its little mouth can catch, and its stomach is expanding right before our very eyes.  It looks like it could almost pop—
It explodes.
We all throw ourselves down to the ground, with various exclamations of horror.
This is not Earth.
“Get your asses up!” comes the thoroughly unfriendly request.  “If you want to live, you best start walking when we tell you to walk and find out what won’t kill you.”
That’s right: we’re test dummies.  The guards aren’t going to risk dying from a poisonous berry, or eating explosive tree slime.  Total cowards!
Alright; I can’t blame them for that last one—I’m staying the hell away from that tree too.
“There is NO way I’m going in there!” an inmate shrieks.
I don’t normally agree with the prisoners, but right now, I’m so with her on this.  I am not going any deeper into this place.
She’s still screaming.  “You can’t make—”
The bullet kills her before the discharge from the handgun even registers as a sound.
I’ve always wanted to see the jungle.
These boys could teach classes on settling disputes.  I don’t speak only for myself when I say that watching this has instantly instilled an invigorating air of motivation.
“Look at that,” the guard drawls.  “When the others get their bitches here, we’ll have five in each group.  Doesn’t that work slick?”
Does he expect us to clap?
“You, the bony whore: get over here.”
Everyone looks at me.
When I don’t immediately move, he uses the gun to both direct me and remind me that my choices are follow or die.  Stiffly, I force myself to approach him.  And that’s how Drogan finds me; being given the choice between eating the berries the guard has shoved at me, or eating a bullet.
The berries are a little bitter.
“What the fuck, man!”  Drogan is shouting at this boss-guard.  “She’s on a special regimen!  She gets the Project-45’s; what the hell are you making her eat?”
The boss-guard dismisses this with simple but factual logic: “This one’s got nothing left to her.”  He follows this with a disturbing, distressing, somewhat erroneous plan: “If shit’s poisonous, she’ll be the first to get it through her system and drop, right?  We can use her to test out what food is safe to eat tonight.”
My job here is to eat food and live, or eat food and die, and until it hits my stomach and causes one of those two outcomes to either continue or end my reality, my work for the moment is on hold, thus the boss-guard doesn’t protest when Drogan drags me away.  Drogan is a man though, and he’s doing that man-thing where he glares down his opponent—even as we’re retreating—and if doesn’t quit, he’s going to get himself killed.
I hate to do it, but I try to break his side of the staredown.  “He was so thoughtful.  He even took my cuffs off first, see?”  He doesn’t look, but that’s okay, I keep talking.  “He didn’t even make me forage for the creepy berries—they were growing right next to where the ship crashed, totally unharmed!  I’m so lucky.”
“It’s not fucking funny!” Drogan snaps, but his eyes flicker down to me, worried, and it’s just enough of a concession that the boss-guard can walk away with his ego and pride fully intact.
I’m sorry, Drogan.
Drogan’s glare locks on the man’s back.
“Let it go,” I whisper.
I go unheard.  Or at least unheeded.
“Permission to retrieve the inmates’ Project Rations,” he calls out.  To me, he mutters under his breath, “Killing all the doctors may have been a bad call.”
“We didn’t kill all the doctors.  We didn’t kill all of the scientists either,” I quickly add, figuring what he’ll try to come back with.  I experience a rapid series of flashbacks.  Slowly, I shake my head.  “And No.  It wasn’t.”
He drags an impatient hand over his hair, but his voice sounds a little amused by my antics.  As he should.  They’re on his behalf, after all.  “All of your docs and scientists then—fucking hell woman, you fight with me like we’re friggin’ married.”
“You should be so lucky,” I tease.
When he looks down at me… he… is not teasing anymore.  “I should be.”

Wait… “What?”

Book 3 in the series, (and remember, these are all standalone! You don't have to read in order!!) is Nancy Cummings and Blazing

Lucie is a survivor. She survived a fire that took her family and she survived three hellish years in prison. She even survived being sucked through a wormhole and crashing into an alien planet. They called her lucky but it was more than luck.
All she wants is to go home. She wants her life back and nothing will stop her: not prison, not an alien planet and not three strangely hot aliens determined to claim her.
Sarsen, Ertale and Asche spent the last thousand years waiting for release from their bonds. When the little female bursts into their lives, she frees them from their unending servitude and ignites the fire in their heartstones. Now she thinks she can just leave them behind?
No. The trio will do whatever it takes to make Lucie understand that she belongs to them. She denies the heat in their eyes but she can’t deny the scorching fire in their kisses.

Nancy's amazon page is here:
Enjoy this excerpt from Blazing!
Seven days had passed since his Lucie fell from the stars. On the first day, the ak’rena tried to take her from him and his brothers. On the second, her human companion tried to take her from him. On the fourth, they burned the remains of her people. On the sixth day, a ferix pack tried and nearly succeeded in taking her.
Asche was done with being patient. Waiting for her to heal and waiting for her to adjust to life on Sonhadra was time wasted. Her life could end so easily.
His life could end now, too.
He saw the way she responded to Sarsen’s forceful demeanor, how the pulse jumped in her throat and the way her musk perfumed the air. He noted the way she curled into the safety of Ertale, calm and peaceful.
He wanted all those things and more. He wanted that moment shared only between them, the piece of herself that she did not share with her brothers, and he was tired of waiting.
She slept alone in a bed designed for multiple partners. Other than the night in the abandoned village, the valos triad had given her space and let her sleep alone. Even last night when she finally fell asleep hysterical and tear stained, Ertale let her be.

No more. No more wasted time.

Whirlwind is my book. And of course- it has a reverse harem twist- you know I love those. 

Aveline got what she deserved. An unlucky thief, she’s been caught and imprisoned on the Interstellar Penitentiary System station. For the rest of her natural life, she’ll be an unwilling subject in whatever experiments the psychopathetic Earth government scientists choose to use her for. 
But Aveline’s luck is about to change. 
When a wormhole opens near the space station, Aveline is sucked out of hell and into a world she never knew existed—Sonhadra. 
And she’s not alone. 
Locked away by a species known only as The Creators, the Ventos, a race of air elementals, have lived a half-life—alive but unaware of the passage of time, or who they are. 
Until Aveline arrives. 
The last four Ventos in Sonhandra, Aaddhar, Branesh, Ettan, and Thanasis, are awake now, and Aveline holds their hearts in her thieving little hands. Faced with a world utterly changed and unfamiliar, they decide to forge a new one. Together, they’ll create world of freedom and joy, and if the five of them are the only ones who enjoy it, that’s fine with the Ventos. 

But Aveline didn’t arrive alone. The person at the heart of her downfall, the one who pushed her onto the path that led to loss and pain, has fallen through the wormhole as well. And she threatens everything Aveline and her Ventos have created. Will they be strong enough to survive the threat they now face? Or will the Ventos be sent back into oblivion and Aveline into hell? 
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And here's something from me to you:) 
Emotions churning, he ran his fingers across her lips, spreading the wetness there. Her tongue swiped at her lips, and he nearly groaned aloud. What was she doing to him? Was she controlling him? One moment he was angry, the next settled, and now, something new moved inside him—yearning. Want. 
Aaddhar towered over Aveline. She was slight; it had taken hardly any effort to carry her to this strata. Confusing. When she spoke, or glared at him, he found himself thinking she was bigger than she truly was. 
But here, eyes gleaming with unshed liquid, he realized just how small she was. Not fragile, though. The scars on her body spoke to a toughness that wasn’t immediately evident. 
Aaddhar though, was looking deeper, and he saw it. 
“Lips,” he whispered, and Aveline’s eyes widened. 
What would her lips taste like? When his kind found the one they would tie themselves to, they became formless, their breath mixing, but Aveline couldn’t do that. 
Aaddhar felt a jolt, and imagined what it would be like to join with her while in this solid form. He had the ability, and had experimented with other Ventos, but he had never met his one. 
A surge of lust shot through his body, and from the way Aveline’s eyes widened, she could see it flash across his skin. He would be bright, each color the purest shade it could be. 
Dipping his head, Aaddhar pressed his mouth against Aveline’s. Her lips were soft, but clumsy. 
He liked that—liked the idea that maybe no one had ever done this to her before. He lost his form for a moment, dissipating into a stream of air and rushed around her body. He was warm, warmer than he’d been before, but she shivered. It vibrated the air around them, and aroused Aaddhar further. Her desire was tangible. Quickly, he reformed, focusing his energy on staying solid. 
His hand was bright red when he touched her neck, gently turning her head to expose her throat. There were the scars. An impulse came over him, and he didn’t deny it. He leaned over, trailing his lips along the scar, reveling in the way the skin would be smooth, and then ridged, before becoming smooth again.
Aveline sighed, and Aaddhar shifted again. He wanted to catch her sigh, wind it around his air so he could feel everything it contained. 
He knew, the instant his air touched hers, why joining in Ventos form was only for those who had found their one. 
Desire, arousal, uncertainty, all of it was contained in her breath. Without conscious thought, he reformed and kissed her again. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and groaned. She was warm, so warm here. Her tongue tangled with his, swirling and stroking. 
He needed to be closer, wanted to melt himself completely with her. Wrapping his arms around her body, he lifted her, carrying her until his knees knocked hollowly into the capsule he’d found earlier. 
Aveline wound her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles as if to keep her anchored to him. He could feel heat between her legs, and wanted more of it. 

Naomi Lucas writes book 5, Radiant

Yahiro never thought she would end up in prison. Let alone on a prison ship where escape was impossible. But none of that mattered anymore because while she was curled up in the corner of her cell, the lights went out.
And when they turned back on it was worse.
Ending up on a planet—one so different than Earth—greeted by the screams of those who were injured in the crash and the corpses of those who didn't make it, she sets off with the survivors in hopes of finding a way home.
What she finds instead are three golden aliens that won't let her out of their sight, a city on the back of a giant beast, and a ghost world that will never let her leave.

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Here's a teaser from Naomi:)

She turned away from him and stepped into the water, loving and hating the cool feel of it over her skin. Loving and hating it as much as her turmoiled emotions. Once she was crouched with her waist below the shallow middle, she tugged off her orange pants and clutched the material in her hands while she dared a look back at the alien.
His eyes bore into her and his wings were as stiff as two towers at his sides. “What does nudity mean in your world?” she asked, her belly rolling and her heart racing, her fingers playing at the bottom edge of her shirt.
“It has no meaning.”
“So this,” she indicated herself, “has no meaning?” Yahiro hoped.
“It does and it doesn’t.”
“I don’t understand?”
“I’ve never wanted to see what happens next so much as I do now.”

Shadowed is the sixth book in the series, and was written by Isabel Wroth. 

Deja thought she could fear nothing more than the daily treatments she received during her imprisonment on the Concord. The horrible experiments which rack her body with unimaginable, searing pain. But she discovers the true meaning of terror as she clings to life pod’s harness while plummeting toward the surface of an unknown planet.

Struggling to outrun the beasts hunting her, fighting to outrun the light, Deja hastens for the only cover she can find — between the feet of a giant stone statue. Only statues aren’t supposed to move, or wrap you in their arms and carry you off INTO SHADOW…

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She was weakening, her body processing the adrenaline too quickly as the pain became her everything. Every breath, every heartbeat, every thought.   
With tears in her eyes, Deja reached up and found handholds in the statue to pull herself up. Again, and again, another toe hold, another ledge to curl her fingers in, until she was clinging to the statue with her shoes curled into the ledge of its belt and her face resting against the chest plate.
The cut on her cheek oozed fresh blood, the hot slide of it down her face such a contrast to where it lay against the cool stone.
A flash of bright light made her jerk her head back, gasping to see the rock directly in front of her turning a vibrant glowing white. The smear of blood disappeared into the rock face, spreading out like it was filling an intricate web of previously empty veins and capillaries. It expanded across the chest for at least two of her own hand spans.
The statue moved.

The stone armor grated together as it came to life, an enormous hand catching her as she flung herself back with a scream.

Phew! Lots of books, right! Don't forget, the drop the SAME DAY! And they'll be available on KINDLE UNLIMITED! 

The 7th book is written by Tiffany Roberts. Undying
Orishok is the last of his kind — a valo shaped by the Creators to embody death. He’s stood vigil over his people for centuries, watching them fade away, one by one succumbing to the entropic energies they hold inside. With his slightest touch unwillingly bringing death to all living things, he has remained isolated in his people’s city, his heart as empty as the buildings around him…until a pale, slight female arrives and shakes the foundations of his world. 


Quinn Dalton lost everything when she was convicted of murder — her sister, her niece, her budding career — but it isn’t until she’s transferred to an interstellar penitentiary that she realizes her very life is no longer her own. Her existence aboard the Concord is a nightmare, broken only when the station is torn through a wormhole and crash lands on an alien world. After waking up alone and bloodied, but somehow unharmed, she seeks shelter in an abandoned city — where she discovers an ancient, wondrous mystery. Can she survive alongside a being whose touch means death? 

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Tiffany has given me an excerpt to share!

He stared down at her, unable to form words. Her chest was bare, and her breasts were almost near enough to brush against his abdomen; gone was her mah dustee. His skin tingled beneath her touch. “Quinn…”
She leaned closer, her eyes searching his. The tips of her hard nipples brushed his chest. There was no more holding it back; the fires of desire flooded him.
Quinn hooked a hand behind his neck and tugged him down so their faces were close.
“What about now?” she asked, and then pressed her mouth against his.
Her lips were softer, smoother, warmer than he ever imagined, shaping themselves to his as though they were one. Orishok had never experienced such a thing; he had no name for it, no way of knowing its meaning or its purpose. He knew only that it was a taste of paradise.
She wrapped her other arm around his neck, locking her hands together as she pressed her body against his. Quinn’s heat radiated into him, filled him, overwhelmed his senses. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her closer, lifting her off her feet. She encircled his waist with her legs and pulled her mouth away, only to tilt her head and bring their lips together at a different angle.
Surprise and excitement swept through him as her tongue slid over the seam of his mouth. He opened it to her readily, and it slipped between his lips.
They were mating with their mouths.
And he loved it.
He dropped his hands to the backs of her thighs and slid his palms up to grip the soft flesh of her rear. Her skirt had ridden up, eliminating the barrier between them; he squeezed her ass and drew her pelvis against his middle, relishing in the direct heat of her core.
Quinn moaned and pressed her knees against his sides. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes. They were dark and half-lidded, framed by thick lashes.
“Kiss me back, Orishok.”
Kiss. A simple word for something so complex, so powerful, but now he knew what to call it. He cupped the back of her head, slipping his fingers into her hair, and brought their lips together again.
Orishok kissed her with the same ferocity as she’d kissed him, and soon it wasn’t just a meeting of lips, but a duel of tongues and nipping teeth. His heartstone vibrated with the beat of her heart and burned with her heat. Had he blood, it would be ablaze; had he veins, they would run with liquid fire. He had never wanted anything so much as he wanted Quinn in that moment.
He was not a thing to her, not a weapon, not a tool, not a slave. He was a man. She tasted him like he was flesh and blood, desired him as though he’d never been changed. And Orishok yearned to make her his.
Only his loincloth separated them. It would be so simple to sweep it aside and enter her. So simple to connect their bodies and know the truth and depth of her heat.
Quinn broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against his. Her warm, ragged breath tickled his lips, but they were already cooled by the loss of hers.
“We should stop,” she whispered. “We should.” Her fingers brushed over the back of his head.
“Why?” He had never felt so alive.
She laughed. “I don’t really want to stop…”
“We do not have to stop,” he moved his hand to her chin and tilted her face up, “but we can move slowly. I want to know you, Quinn.” 
A slow smile spread over her lips. “Okay.”
Orishok walked toward the water, dropping his hand to her thigh. He moved his palm up, beneath her skirt, sliced the fabric open, and tossed it aside.

“You have no idea how sekzee that was.”

But wait! There's more! Book 8, Enduring, is written by Marina Simcoe.

They say crime doesn’t pay . . . but what if it’s done in the name of love? Being left behind by my boyfriend and getting arrested wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was becoming a test subject for a mad scientist, a crash landing in the prison spaceship, and then struggling to survive in a deadly alien jungle. 
I could have paid with my life, instead, I was given two incredible reasons to love again, and this time the thing I need to do is to hold on to them.
Love condemned me, now it’s the only thing left that can save everything I hold dear.
Simply enduring is no longer enough. 
I want to truly live.
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Marina has shared an excerpt. Lucky ducks! 

It wasn’t the cold that woke me up way before the sunrise this time. It was low grunts and heavy breathing. The realization of what the sounds and their rhythmic pattern meant shot through me like lightning, startling me wide awake.
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes tighter, wishing I were anywhere else but here—listening to my newly found friends having sex in the bed across from mine.
This left no doubts about the nature of their relationship.
Mortified, I lay quiet as a mouse for a while, hoping I could just ignore the noises and fall back asleep again. What other behavior would be appropriate in this case? With all her long lists of rules, Aunt Judie failed to mention anything like this.
I couldn’t ignore the sounds, however. They were like nothing I’d heard before. Deep, low rumbles mixed with rough, muffled moans of pleasure. I found myself following their pattern in my head, rising and falling waves of building passion.
One of the voices stopped for a moment then suddenly erupted into a long, loud groan. The sound was so deep and raw. It felt like it shook the whole mountain to the core.
Now I needed to know what could have caused a man to roar with abandon like that. I opened my eyes a little to see Vlunn on the other bed propped on one arm. He was on his side, facing the opposite wall. His head was thrown back, and I could see the profile of his upturned face. His eyes were closed tight and his teeth bared as another roar of rapture tore deep from inside of his chest.
Enthralled by the raw masculine power of his climax, I forgot all about any proper behavior and stared unabashedly at the rippling muscles of his wide back and tight buttocks. The sound he made echoed off the walls of the tunnel, eventually dying off in the distance as the waves of his pleasure subsided.
Vlunn dipped his head back down towards the bed then, and Rock’s raised knee came into my view from behind Vlunn’s shoulder. I heard another long groan as Rock’s head and chest rose from behind Vlunn’s hips.
Propped on an elbow, Rock wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and his multifaceted red eyes met mine, catching me completely off guard.
My first instinct was to duck back under the cover and pretend that none of it had ever happened, but his glowing gaze stopped me.
He breathed hard, in sync with the new movement of Vlunn’s head in front of his hips. His eyes commanded me to stay with him, making me part of his pleasure whether I wanted it or not. 
I forgot how to breathe. Feeling every shudder of his body in my very core, I pressed my legs together in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pressure rapidly building up between my thighs.
His chest rose with every heaving breath he took. His eyes slid over my face, slowly moving lower. My cheek, my lips, my collarbone . . . Sweet tingles spread along my skin wherever his heated gaze landed. It felt like it burned through the cover and caressed my naked body.
Frantic with the arousal that his glowing eyes ignited in me, I pressed my thighs even closer together and rocked my hips. A small, teasing quiver of pleasure rippled through my body.
It was so good. Unintentionally, I let a soft moan slip past my parted lips, and to Rock, it must have sounded louder than a shotgun because his eyes immediately grew wild. He bared his sharp teeth and growled at me like a savage predator. His body bent in an arch, hovering over Vlunn, as he thrust his hips forward in the rhythmic, powerful spasms of his climax.
Through the deep rumble of his growl reverberating through the tunnel, I almost felt his orgasm vibrate through my own body, excruciatingly tantalizing and making me crave more.

Unfrozen, by Regine Abel, is the frosting (get it?) on the Valos of Sonhadra cupcake.
When the penitentiary ship she's incarcerated in gets sucked into an anomaly, Lydia barely survives the crash onto an alien planet. Only the sadistic experiments performed on her by the prison's scientist allow her to survive this harsh and dangerous world. The future looks grim until she stumbles upon a magnificent city of ice and its most unusual inhabitant.

Kai is fascinated by the delicate stranger fallen from the stars with the power to bring his hibernating city back to life. She stirs emotions long forgotten by his frozen heartstone. Can she be the salvation of his people or will the trap set by the Creators bring about their collective doom?
Regine is on Amazon:

Let's end with a wicked cool scene from Unfrozen! (Oh, the word play!!)

“Someone’s flaring up,” Lydia whispered against my chest. “What were you thinking about?”
Her fingertips drew little circles on my heartstone. She kissed my nipple then lifted her head to look at me.
“You,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What about me?”
Her fingers strayed to my other nipple and resumed their circular motion around it. I gnashed my teeth, swallowing the moan rising in my throat.
“Y… Your tunic… rode up in your sleep.”
She cast a glance at her exposed rear then looked back at me, her pale blue eyes darkening. 
“Does it bother you?” 
Her voice dropped into a husky whisper. My rod throbbed in response. I didn’t quite know how to respond. She frowned when I delayed to answer.
“Nudity doesn’t bother me or my people. It is natural.”
“But?” she persisted.
“Yours makes me feel things,” I said, eyeing her warily.
“Good things, I hope?” 
Her naked leg moved up over mine, her thigh brushing against my sack.
“Yes,” I said in a strangled voice. “But I know it offends your people.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Nudity doesn’t offend my people. We just don’t like showing ourselves naked in public. But I don’t mind being naked in front of you.” 
My abdominal muscles contracted as her palm slid down my stomach to rest right below my navel. 
“Only you,” she whispered before stretching her neck to kiss my lips. 
Unable to resist any further, I slipped my hand down her back to grab the bare flesh of her rounded backside. 
So soft and warm…
Lydia climbed on top of me, her breasts brushing against my chest. The weight and warmth of her wrapped around me, scalding my insides with desire. She slipped her hands behind my head and nipped my bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. I loved when she did that, or anything else that involved her touching me. 
“Someone is happy to see me,” she said, her breath caressing my lips.
Hips moving from side to side, she rubbed her groin on my erection. Heat spread further and a groan of pleasure rumbled in my chest. Grabbing her other bottom cheek with my left hand, I pressed her against me, hiding nothing of my desire. 
Lydia broke the kiss, her mouth trailing along my jawline to my ear. The warm wetness of her tongue traced its outline, fueling the fire within. I slipped one hand beneath her tunic, up the arched curve of her back. Searing heat met my palm. She was my sun; giving me life, lighting my heartstone, and melting the ice in my veins. 
She shivered, her skin erupting in those strange little bumps from the coolness of my touch. They tickled my palms as I ran my hands over the intriguing phenomenon. Pushing up and away from me, Lydia sat on her haunches, our sexes aligned. Eyes locked with mine, she grabbed the hem of the yellow tunic she had worn to bed last night, pulled it up and over her head. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it to the floor. My gaze roamed over her, mesmerized by the warm brown color of her skin and the darker circle around her generous breasts. I had never seen any this big. Round and perky, their hard buds pointed at me, taunting me. 

And finally... for those of you who like videos, a trailer:)