Hot Blood Series: The Braided Crop Ranch, Book Four by AE Lister New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 

Title:  Hot Blood

Series: The Braided Crop Ranch, Book Four

Author: AE Lister

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/07/2023

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 50300

Genre: Contemporary, BDSM, pony play, kink, photographer, hurt/comfort, grief, public sex, voyeurism

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Oliver Lambert has taken his photography skills and run with them. By the time he’s thirty, he’s made a name for himself and now has jobs whenever he needs them. He likes to be behind the camera, watching the world through a safe lens, protected from actually engaging with it.

An unexpected referral takes him somewhere he never expected—a kinky fetish ranch in the Muskokas, where men pay to play pony and trainers teach them how to behave.

Adam Marsland needs a visual record of the Braided Crop Ranch and it’s been a while since the website photographs were updated. When he’s given Oliver’s name, he immediately hires the man to come for the summer session to immerse himself in the ranch and its activities.

Oliver is out of his depth, but the challenge of photographing the beautiful men at the BCR is something he can focus on. Safe behind the lens of his camera, Oliver finds the ranch to be seductive and shocking. He can’t help admitting a fascination for the people who make the Braided Crop Ranch what it is.

But just because he knows how to take a great photo doesn’t mean he’s prepared for everything he encounters, especially when it comes to a recalcitrant ponyboy named Puck.

Contains: voyeurism, second-hand embarrassment, awkward conversations, a very introverted photographer, and several surprising developments, along with all the regular kink and pony play elements.

*Note: The timeline of Hotblood is prior to the events in Stable Hand but should be read either as the fourth book in the series or as a standalone.

Hot Blood

AE Lister © 2023

All Rights Reserved

Editing digital photos to make fruits and vegetables appear perfectly ripe, juicy, and seductive was not where I thought my life would end up.

When I’d chosen photography as the focus of my fine arts degree at the University of Waterloo in Southern Ontario, I had imagined somewhat more exciting subject matter. But most of my assignments these days involved long hours spent hunched on my elbows in the dirt, taking alluring shots of farm produce.

On my very fancy and expensive computer monitor, a ray of morning sunlight bounced off the red skin of a plump tomato. I’d tried several filters and a range of exposures to get it just right, but something wasn’t working.

I clicked on another set of tools and looked for a different approach. While I perused the list, my phone pinged from where it lay on the desk.

I glanced at the screen to see a text from an unknown number:

Mr. Lambert, is it OK if I give you a call in a few moments? My name is Adam Marsland. I was given your name and contact info by Jaden Stevenson. I’m looking for a photographer.

Since referrals had gotten me to where I was in my life at the moment—a recognized purveyor of outstanding photographic interpretations of reality—I texted Mr. Marsland back immediately.

Of course. Give me five minutes.

I input Adam Marsland as a contact and stood from my chair. My neck cracked when I stretched it to the side, and again when I repeated the motion in the other direction. I was only thirty years old, but sitting in one position for too long was bad for anyone. I reached my arms up and over my head, feeling the pull in my muscles.

Moving into the kitchen of my small condo on Toronto’s East Side, I grabbed a tumbler, pressed the button on my fridge for cold water, and watched the stream of liquid splash into the glass. It would be fortuitous if Mr. Marsland could offer me a contract for some images. I was booked up until mid-June but, after that, things looked a bit sparse.

I carried my drink to the living room window and gazed out on the city. Living on the fifteenth floor afforded me the luxury of a stunning view, even if the square footage was small. At least the finishes and upgrades in this unit were of the highest quality and done according to the latest trends. I’d been able to furnish the tiny apartment with quality pieces, like the Eames chair and a tan leather love seat from West Elm, since I didn’t need many.

When my ringtone sounded, I walked back to my desk, put the glass down, and pressed the answer button, remaining on my feet since I’d been sitting for the past hour and a half.

“Mr. Marsland,” I said.

“Mr. Lambert. Good afternoon. How are you today?”

“Fine, thanks. What can I do for you?” I asked, taking a sip from my glass.

Mr. Marsland cleared his throat, and I heard the click of a pen. “I’m hoping you can come to my ranch and take some photos for me. You come highly recommended.”

I smiled, because it was always nice to hear that. “Thanks. Jaden mentioned me?”

“Yes. He thinks you’d be perfect for what we need.”

“I’m pretty booked up at the moment. What time frame are we looking at?”

“I’d need you to spend part of the summer here, if you’re available, and interested. You’ll be compensated well and we can put you in a room at the main house during your stay.”

Perfect.

“I do have most of the summer free at the moment. Are you talking three weeks? Six?”

Papers rustled on Mr. Marsland’s end. “Six weeks. From mid-July to the end of August.”

I walked back to my computer and put the glass down beside it. “And I’d be photographing horses? Riders? The landscape, too, I suppose?”

There was a pause, and he laughed. “We’re not that kind of ranch, Mr. Lambert.”

I narrowed my eyes at the red tomato that had tortured me with its saucy round form all morning. Mr. Marsland’s comment intrigued me.

“Call me Oliver. And what exactly do you mean?”

“The name of my…business…is the Braided Crop Ranch. We’re really a club, of sorts, with a resort hotel on the premises.”

Hmm. “Oh. And you offer riding as part of the resort experience?”

Mr. Marsland laughed. “No. No riding. Only ponies.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a bit confused about—”

“We’re a fetish ranch, Oliver. Pony play. Human ponies. In leather harnesses and other…accoutrements.”

I blinked quickly, my eyes flitting from the tomato to the glass of water on my desk as my mouth went dry.

“Oh. I see.”

Holy… That was not where I thought this conversation was going. A fetish ranch? My mind conjured up bizarre images of people in horse costumes. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

Adam laughed again. “Look, why don’t I text you the link to our website, where we have some older images, and you can call me back if you’re interested. And just text me a ‘No, thanks’ if you’re not.”

That…made sense. My mind reeled from the information but also honed in razor-sharp on the fact that this would be a very different assignment from anything I’d done in the past.

“All right. That sounds fine.”

“I hope to hear from you within the next hour. But if I don’t, no harm, no foul. What we’d be looking for are updated, artistic images for the website and our brochures—maybe a selection of shots to sell in our gift shop. Have a look, and if you think you can work with us, call me back. At any rate, it was great to speak with you, Oliver.”

“Same, Mr. Marsland.”

“Adam. Please.”

“Okay. Thanks, Adam. I’ve got your text, so I’ll have a look.”

“Excellent. Hope to speak to you soon.”

I closed the call and clicked the link in the text from Adam. My browser opened, and a “Welcome” page loaded.

The Braided Crop Ranch scrolled in elegant but readable script overtop an idyllic scene of what looked like a regular farmhouse and barns in a woodland setting. Then a warning window popped up, informing me I had to be eighteen or older to enter the site.

Hmm. Well, I was thirty, so I clicked it.

Welcome to the Braided Crop Ranch.

A fetish farm for pony play enthusiasts…

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AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published many other books, one of which (Beyond the Edge) received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association–International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

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Grumpy Beignet Boss by @melissachambersauthor Book Blitz! ⁣⁣#melissachambers #grumpybeignetboss #XpressoTours⁣ @XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣

 

Grumpy Beignet Boss
Melissa Chambers

(Broussard Brothers, #1)
Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He’s betrayed her before, but she won’t fall into his trap again…

After the seventh loan denial, Peyton Boudreaux knows she’ll never get the money to start her own healthy junk food restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She’s left with no other choice than to trudge back home to New Orleans to claim her trust fund with her tail between her legs. But before the money is hers, she’s got to complete the required hours, cleaning grease traps and mopping floors at Boudreaux’s: Home of the Chocolate Hazelnut Beignet. On top of that, she must face the CEO of the dual family business – former love of her life, Braxton Broussard, Traitor. He shot her down both romantically and professionally years ago, and now he’s the one whose butt she’s got to kiss.

Not even the ten years Braxton has spent apart from Peyton have been enough to shake the brown-eyed girl from his fantasies. As much as he loves to see her dressed as a fairy, sitting in his office on Mardi Gras day, he was really hoping he could get the money back into her faux trust fund before she came home to claim it. He can’t let her know her deceased father gambled her cash away. He’s got to find another way to get her the money she’s owed. But more importantly, he’s got to work his way back into her heart, because now that she’s home, he never wants her to leave again.

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He held eye contact with her, but she was too chicken this time to be the last one to look away. She contained her grin and reached for his drink. “What’s this? Whiskey?”

“Yep. Bourbon,” he said.

She nodded. “Big boy drinks. Last time I saw you with a drink it was the King of Beers.”

She took a sip, trying like crazy to keep her face stoic while the liquor assaulted her throat. She never drank liquor.

“I still drink that, too,” he said. “What about you? What do you drink up in Manhattan?”

“Brooklyn.”

“Brooklyn,” he confirmed.

She shrugged. “Wine. Beer. Cocktail of the hour.”

He furrowed his brow. “What is that now, something with bitters or ginger beer?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so two years ago, Braxton. It’s the Boudreaux Booty. Everyone knows that.”

A grin stretched across his face, causing her core to light up like a firecracker. “What’s in it?”

She bit her lip, looking to the sky. “Oh, a little bit of vodka, cranberry juice, OJ, and peach schnapps.”

He furrowed his brow. “I think that’s a sex on the beach.”

She put her hand to her chest. “Is it? I’ve never had that. Have you?” This cheesy flirting was so far out of the realm of the two of them, and Peyton was loving every second of it.

He chuckled, and then shrugged. “Maybe. I can’t really remember. It’s been a while since I…had a cocktail.”

She loved his implication. “Oh, yeah? I had one somewhat recently.”

He lifted an eyebrow, and she could swear his lip curled a little. “You did?”

“Yeah. In Manhattan, actually. I was there for an event. Fleet Week. I had lots of cocktails that night.”

He let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sounds like a good time. I hope you were safe…didn’t have too many cocktails.”

“Oh, yes. I’m always safe.” She ran her finger around the rim of his glass. “But you wouldn’t know that about me. We never drank cocktails together before.”

His biceps flexed. “No, we haven’t. I’m a few years older than you, ya know.”

Her chest stung. “I do know.”

“You were never really old enough to have a cocktail with me, were you?”

She shrugged. “Depends. Sometimes people don’t wait until they’re twenty-one to have their first drink.”

He stared deep into her gaze. This time she wouldn’t have let go to save a drowning puppy.

“If we would have had a cocktail together on your prom night,” he said, “before you were twenty-one, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have been able to stop.”

She would have traded no ice cream for the rest of her life to hear those words all these years. She nudged his arm with hers. “Maybe that wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. Cocktails for months. At least until you went back to Vanderbilt and had cocktails with someone else.”

She stood close to him now, her feet inside his legs, loving using her sexuality in a way she never could have when they were younger.

He uncrossed his arms and tugged on her skirt. “Maybe I was afraid if I had cocktails with you, I’d never want to have them with anyone else.”

She closed her eyes, inhaling hard at his words, which tickled every inch of her body. She leaned in closer. “I guess that would have been hard…staying sober at Vandy for four years.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

She opened her eyes, and met his gaze, moving close to his mouth. She hovered there, their lips almost brushing. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

She stepped backward and then turned and walked toward the house.

Melissa Chambers writes contemporary novels for young, new, and actual adults. A Nashville native, she spends her days working in the music industry and her nights tapping away at her keyboard. While she’s slightly obsessed with alt rock, she leaves the guitar playing to her husband and kid. She never misses a chance to play a tennis match, listen to an audiobook, or eat a bowl of ice cream. (Rocky road, please!) She has served as president for the Music City Romance Writers and is the author of the Love Along Hwy 30A series, the Before Forever series (YA), and Courting Carlyn (YA).

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Illuminated Series: Vampire Tales by Alexa Piper New Release Blitz

 

 

Title:  Illuminated

Series: Vampire Tales 1

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 10, 2023

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 126 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Bisexual, Multisexual & Pansexual, Gay, Magic, Sorcery, and Witchcraft, Murder Mystery, Vampires

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Ethan is a photographer who loves the interplay of light and shadow in his work and what it reveals. While working on his latest project, he finds himself at an abandoned church after nightfall. Lured by the prospect of capturing something unique with his camera, he ventures inside.

What Ethan discovers in that forgotten place is not what he expected. Instead of sights unseen for decades, Ethan finds a man -- bleeding, hurt, and in need of help.

What Ethan doesn’t know is that he isn’t freeing an ordinary man, but an ancient vampire.

Through a haze of blood and violence, Ethan will have to come to terms with a situation nothing could have ever prepared him for. Auris drinks blood and deals death with ease, but Ethan soon discovers that the vampire is not just a monster. Auris is more, so much more. As if it were illuminated with a camera flash, Ethan can almost see himself and Auris have a shared future. Yet, those who tried destroying Auris once will stop at nothing to do so again.

Content Warnings: Illuminated (Vampire Tales 1) contains scenes of violence, murder, kidnapping, and torture that may be triggers for some readers.

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2023 Alexa Piper

I felt the cold fingers of the changing season reach across the café’s outdoor terrace and right up my spine. The warm fall day drew to a close with the trees all along the coast colored in vermilion and gold, and darkness rolled in with the tide, the sky above pretty as pulped roses.

“Need another?” said the very attentive server. Her eyes were ocean blue, and her golden earrings caught the fading light slanting in from across the water. She wore a surgical mask like most of the staff in the region I’d come across, even though they were no longer mandatory. “You seem to inhale them. You know that might cost you sleep, right?”

I smiled back at her and finished the last of my latte. “I always inhale great coffee, but this will have to be my last. I like to work at night.”

True enough, even if I had captured mostly sunlight and shadows, leaves and people today, not my normal fare. The touristy charm of the place had simply lured me in. That all the cafés I found here had great service, view, and coffee didn’t help me regain my work attitude.

She looked me up and down, no doubt taking in my slightly over shoulder-length caramel brown hair, the piercing blue eyes most people liked to comment on, and -- last but not least -- my pseudo-geeky Schrödinger’s Cat tee.

“My mother would tell you that a good boy like yourself should be in bed at night. What do you do?”

I laughed and tugged a strand of my hair back behind my ear. “I’m a photographer, and I like editing when it’s dark out. Just a night owl thing. Could I get the check, please?” This was beginning to feel more and more like a vacation, even though I was working. I wanted abandoned places for my next exhibition, and if you didn’t mind a bit of driving, this area had plenty.

“Wow, an artist. You’re the first in Brightam this season, or at least my first. Be right back.” She winked at me.

I nodded, and she took my empty glass and walked away.

My bag sat on the chair to my right. I dug for my notebook and phone. My slightly battered but trusty notebook contained my longhand list of places I wanted to go see. I unwound the elastic that held the notebook closed and checked the list I’d bookmarked with an old receipt for a bagel and coffee against a map on my phone to see if I could still get something done today. If I didn’t, this really would be a vacation day, and I was firmly not on vacation. Besides, I was sure some lowlight photos might add a creepy aspect to my work people often told me was there to begin with, even if I never saw it.

The seventh item on my list was a church that had been abandoned for decades, complete with a garden of headstones surrounding it, and it was only a thirty-minute detour from my way back to Cromere where I had booked my hotel for the month. I had my external flash in the car. Going to the church and getting photos of headstones and a dilapidated building in the background in the almost dark would be perfect.

“Here you go,” the server said and dropped the check on the table. “I put my number on there in case you’re staying in town and want to do something later. Together.”

I had seen that coming about two lattes ago, and I did consider it. Yet, the church actually sounded interesting, more interesting than vacation sex when I wasn’t even on vacation.

“I’m afraid I have to get some work done, actually.” I indicated my notebook before putting the receipt back to mark my spot and packing everything back into my bag. “But thanks for the offer. Maybe another time,” I said and tipped her generously.

She shrugged. “Keep the number. In case you change your mind.”

I did and smiled at her over my shoulder when I left the café.

Over the ocean, the pinks were surrendering to indigo and teal. Night’s breath was icy on the breeze.

* * *

I pulled on my jacket and left the car back at the mouth of the path that led to the church. It was a short walk of not even ten minutes, and I was glad that I also kept a flashlight in the trunk, because even with an almost full moon above, it was dark out here.

The trees grew tall on all sides, branches eating at the dusky sky. Insect noises and the sound of me walking were the only things I could hear, and there was something wonderfully peaceful about that.

I hadn’t lied to the server, I was a night owl and always had been, but I lived in the city, and night in the city was never really dark nor silent. Being out here was a different experience and refreshing in its way.

The church came up ahead of me like a looming scarecrow, raggedy and weather-beaten, but its former function clear even in its current condition. It was slightly uphill, which helped with that perception, but there was something… I had the overwhelming sense that the church had been waiting for me. That was nonsense. Buildings didn’t wait or want. They just were and aged and crumbled, but the fact this place did make me feel like the church was a living being boded well for the photos. I snapped a couple, looking up toward the church.

The church itself was really just a small building that might have held a congregation of maybe two hundred. From what I had read, there had been an abandoned mining town nearby, and the church had been left behind when the ore ran out. The bodies already in the earth had been left as well, a strange sort of exchange for the ore, iron paid for with bone.

When I reached the cemetery grounds, my flashlight licked against dark headstones that were leaning this way and that in time’s pull. With the dark church behind them, all this needed to be a perfect set for a horror movie was some fog and maybe a wolf howling. I chuckled. This was wonderful.

I decided that I would just walk around a bit so I could get a feel for the place, take some shots as I did so to begin with. I turned the flashlight off, put it in my camera bag, and started. The strobing light of my camera flash threw odd shadows that lingered on my retinas. I made my way toward the church doors in a slow half circle, not really planning anything, just going by instinct. Then, with a shot of a cracked church window, I saw that the door to the building was open, just enough to draw a hard shadow in the light of my camera flash.

I stopped and turned my flashlight back on, aiming it at the door. I took another picture even if the flashlight would mess up the lighting. I wasn’t sure why, because I was pretty good about not wasting shots. Some instinct maybe, or a random muscle jerk.

“Oh, opportunity, you call me,” I whispered, running the flashlight up the door, which was indeed open.

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Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

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Fireball by @authorlaineydavis Book Blitz! #Fireball #laineydavis #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣ @XpressoTours⁣⁣

 

Fireball
Lainey Davis

(Bridges and Bitters, #1)
Publication date: May 10th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

He hates her for some reason. She will not rest until she changes his mind.

People always like Samantha Vine. It’s kind of her thing. All the employees at her tech startup think she’s the best boss, and the community partners and investors she woos not only trust, but adore her.

Everyone likes her, except him.

Sam may have been caught off guard when she accidentally insulted science teacher AJ Trachtenberg, but she’s pulling out all the stops trying to make it up to him…and it’s not working. Offering his students a swanky field trip doesn’t win him over—it only seems to make him grumpier.

Unfortunately, grumpy looks very good on him. AJ is tall, dark, and annoyingly handsome and he’s got a giant chip on his shoulder. Honestly, his smoldering is distracting.

Sam can’t afford any distractions right now, not with the media hounding her as she tries to take her company public. Maybe she can swing a one-time naked distraction, though. That doesn’t have to mean anything, right? She’s not looking for a happily-ever-after here. She’s just trying to get him out of her head.

Alas, when it comes to business and bossy men, Samantha Vine has trouble letting go.

Fireball is the laugh-out-loud first stand-alone installment of the Bridges and Bitters series. If you love found family, hilarious antics, and off-the-charts heat, you’ll devour these sexy romantic comedies.

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SAMANTHA The only thing saving me from curling in a ball and crying is the promise of meeting up with my friends. We call our little group Foof…Fresh out of fucks. It’s a sort of ridiculous name for a bad-ass group of entrepreneurs, engineers and queens of the Steel City.

I feel so at ease when I’m with them, like I really don’t have to pretend or put on a fake smile or any of that. I can actually free my fucks with these gals…and I need that, because everyone else claws at me, demanding attention I can’t spare and hurling mean words at me if I say as much.

As often as we can, Foof huddles up in the event room of our friend Esther’s bar, Bridges and Bitters, and these meetings are my recharge. Esther bought an old building in Lawrenceville and transformed it into the most amazing spot. She went for a speakeasy feel, with reclaimed wooden everything and these cozy settees. But honestly, we could meet on a milk crate by the river and I’d still walk away energized from these women.

A few days later, and I’m still reeling after I chased off Mr. Grumpy Teacher from our meeting and stumbled through the rest of my interview with the guy from Forbes. I definitely appreciate Esther’s vintage velvet furniture as I collapse in a heap.

“That bad?” She arches a dark brow at me as she moves some furniture around the room to get ready for the rest of Foof to arrive.

I drape a wrist across my forehead. “If I had a corset on, I’d be asking you to slice the laces.” She pats me on the shoulder and heads back up front to mix a batch of cocktails for us. My friends shuffle in, some of them excited about their day and others looking like they want to join me tying one on.

Logan links arms with her sisters-in-law as they make their way in. As they all chat about life, I sit up and rest my elbows on my lap, propping my forehead against my palms. “I wish I could have a do-over,” I mutter.

“Tell me about it.” Celeste Sheffield, actual grandma and the oldest member of Foof, sits next to me, patiently waiting for me to spill my guts.

I take a deep breath, thinking back over the wretched day, from the annoying call from my dad to my magazine interview not going well. I bite my lip, trying to decide the worst part of it all. “I told a middle school science teacher I didn’t think young students would gain much from touring Vinea,” I tell her. “So now this guy thinks I think his students are too stupid, because of poverty.” Celeste pats my leg in a motherly sort of way I really appreciate.

“I was just so overwhelmed with the Forbes reporter there and thinking about how much work it’ll be to prepare for going public. Who has time to prep for a bunch of tween visitors? But I guess what I said came out wrong and AJ took offense.”

Celeste swirls around the ice in her drink and looks at me. “What if you called and explained? Said you realized your mistake? You could extend your invitation to the students after all.”

I cringe. “Ugh. Apologies are the worst, though. Like, now this guy is going to know I say dumb things when I go off book.” Men thinking I’m stupid is a big, fat trigger for me after living with the Colonel. He’s so domineering and immersed in a hyper-macho military world. Everything has to be precise with him. Language, thought processes, all of it. “Can I make Logan call?”

Logan laughs and shakes her head, wagging a finger at me. “I just run the numbers, boss. You’re the one with your name on the building.”

It’s true. My name is on the damn building. So why do I feel like such an imposter all the time? I’ve spent my entire life trying to fill someone else’s shoes…I got thrust into that role after my mother died. I didn’t mean to start a company in my free time from my dorm room, but I did. Now, ten years along the way, I’m on the cusp of going public with my business-baby and I can’t drum up the ovary power to call someone and apologize?

“Gah. Fine. I know, I know. I’ll call him and grovel.”

“That’s the winning spirit!” Esther winks as she slides me a glass of something magical.

Lainey Davis lives in Pittsburgh in the USA with her 3 feral sons, 2 rescued rabbits, and 1 tired husband. She loves brooding heroes, fiery heroines, and happily ever afters.

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Voyeur by @the_real_ida Release Tour! @indie_pen_pr

Having sampled the forbidden fruits of her online antics, Savannah wants more. When her relationship with Arcas comes under pressure, Savannah must make a choice. Will she make the right one? Fans of Julia Quinn, Shayla Black, Tessa Dare, and EL James will love Voyeur by Ida Brady, a spicy, seductive, enemies-to-lovers, alpha/virgin, disability, BDSM, erotic romance.

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Having sampled the forbidden fruits of her online antics, Savannah wants more. Her penchant for voyeurism unlocks a new dimension in her relationship with Arcas, not to mention a boudoir of new thrills...RPGs, corsets and monsters, oh my!

With the success of her blog, demands from Savannah’s online fans means she can earn money from strangers and satisfy her curiosity.

And all those wicked Regency fantasies offer plenty of material. Namely, what the commanding Duke would do to Emmaline in the confines of the carriage. And the dressing room. And the masquerade ball. Savannah’s imagination knows no bounds, and her appetite for this historical couple is heightened by the arrival of Lady Dewberry and the devilish Lord Walcott.

But when Savannah finds herself targeted by zealots, the ugly truth about her childhood begins to emerge. As her relationship with Arcas comes under pressure, Savannah must make a choice: to conceal the past or finally confront her demons.

With Arcas’ encouragement, Savannah hovers between two worlds, indulging in her new online career and fantasizing about a fictional one she hasn’t had the pleasure of knowing. Yet.

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Copyright 2023 Ida Brady

Savannah’s desire always began in her clit. The tell-tale pulsing, the silent rhythmic throbbing captivated her, holding her in its thrall. Spellbound. 

She was learning so much about her sexuality, discovering new kinks and fetishes, finding out what it was that aroused her. 

A bit of dom/sub action. Super hot.

Pup play. Super not. 

But there was no judgment in her exploration. No shame. Nothing off limits. 

Arcas was a generous and open-minded lover. Their sex-life in the past three months had been like unlocking some secret level in a game. 

Wondrous, new, and a little fucking scary.

Which was why she was eager and yet nervous as she approached the luxurious estate miles away from the city, about to embark on her first orgy. 

The ranch-style home was one of many exclusive properties that dotted the Victorian coastline. Arcas had pointed out the sheer number of convertibles and boutique stores as she drove through Somerton, slowing to a crawl every now and then to gawk at the locals. Every person they spotted seemed to be out of some high-end fashion advertisement. Perfect hair, expensive clothes and a decent fake tan. It was odd and yet fascinating but not enough to distract her from the trepidation that danced along her spine. 

Savannah drove through the gated security of the estate and along the winding driveway, secured on either side by large hedgerows. She felt simultaneously comforted and claustrophobic. 

Until she spotted the house. It sprawled out in front of them, stretching across the paved drive and extending out farther than she could see. If the grandiosity of the home wasn’t enough to make her feel nervous, the sheer newness of this experience did. 

She took her time getting out of the car, smoothing down her dress, admiring the plants and flowers. But she couldn’t hang out in the driveway forever. Savannah straightened her spine as they approached the front door. 

Arcas waited patiently beside her, giving her a light pat on her butt for encouragement. A hell of a lot had changed in three months, including the spectacular success of her online sex blog, ‘Sexcapades.’ She was fast building up many sexual experiences, which meant a ton of material to write about, not that she could document everything. Lord knew, she tried. 

“You know you have to ring the bell to gain entry, right?”

Savannah turned to her boyfriend. His green eyes were bright with mischief.

“I think I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s totally normal.”

“Bec said she’d be coming, right?”

“She did. And that the people who rock up here are legit. It’s exclusive and selective. They know about your blog, and that you’ve got a private channel. It’s all above board.”

The private channel had been created when a few individuals wanted to take her journaling and sexual experiences to a new level. They’d wanted to watch her have sex online. To see her pleasure herself, making requests in the process.  

After chatting with Arcas about the safety measures they would put in place, she had set up an exclusive, private group. Which meant that if anyone actually wanted to watch her orgasm, they could. If they paid.  

And boy did they pay. 

It had been more popular than she had expected. She was still becoming accustomed to this line of work, not to mention the wonderfully liberating nature of exploring her sexuality with strangers. Savannah nodded. Drawing in a deep breath, she rang the bell. “It’s orgy time.”

Ida Brady writes spicy contemporary and erotic romance that packs all the heat! From humour, to heartbreak, to happily ever after, you're guaranteed a steamy read with all the tropes. Enemies to lovers, billionaire, virgin, menage...you name it, she writes it!

Ida is a lover of chocolate and thunderstorms. When she isn't trying to tame her intractable curls, she's running after her little ones, usually with a book in hand. Ida lives in the hustle and bustle of Melbourne's CBD with her Irish husband and their out of control collection of books. She sometimes daydreams about having a huge library in her home but will settle for stacking novels in the kitchen drawers instead.

In her past life, Ida taught VCE Literature and English to a gaggle of teenagers. While she misses their enthusiasm, she sure as hell doesn't miss marking papers. You might find her dancing the Argentine tango in her spare time, which isn't often these days. She loves travelling with her family, observing strangers at cafés and getting lost in a good story.

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​Book Title:  DAWGS: A True Story of Lost Animals and the Kids Who Rescued Them by Diane Trull with Meredith Wargo
Category:  Adult Non-Fiction (18+), 256 pages
Genre: Narrative Non-Fiction 
Publisher:  Citadel Press - Kensington Publishing Corp.  
Release date:  March 2020
Content Rating: This non-fiction book is rated PG. There is one scene in which the shelter was broken into, and several puppies were killed. The author does not go into any gory details, but this information may trigger some sensitive readers. 

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Suitors & Sweethearts: An African Romance Box Set

Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

BOUND TO FATE by Kiru Taye
All Ike wants to do is to keep out of trouble and get through the one-year internship required for his degree program. But trouble finds him, in the form of the intelligent and brave Lara who turns his world upside down. Falling in love is forbidden. So why does it feel so right? Love like theirs cannot be denied. But catastrophe lies in wait and one-night changes their lives forever.

VEGAS NIGHTS by Unoma Nwankwor
A woman scared of being hurt again is bent on playing it safe.
A man determined to stay focused and never experience poverty again.
One night on the wild side that changes everything.

LOVE AND HIPLIFE by Nana Prah
Blaise is on the verge of taking African Francophone countries by storm with his new style of music. Learning how to sing in French without butchering the beautiful language is harder than he thought. Multi-linguist, Lamisi is the key to his success. When his presence in her life puts her in danger, will he end the budding relationship in order to keep her safe?

MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR by Empi Baryeh
When Lord—his given name, not a title—sets his sights on Chantelle, he has more than work on his mind. Yet, even the infamous playboy couldn’t have predicted the magnetic attraction from the moment they met, nor the evening ending with more than just an interview. But now he has to convince Chantelle that their one-night stand wasn’t a mistake… and that not all bachelors are heartbreakers.

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY by Zee Monodee
Eldest sister of the Hemant sibling trio, Lara, returns to Mauritius as a divorcee and she comes across Eric, the man she loved as a teenager and gave up because their interracial relationship would not stand a chance on this island. But here comes a second chance: Eric wants her back in his life, and he will stop at nothing to win her back. Will Lara be her own worst enemy and thus end up unhappy ever after?

BITTERSWEET BEGINNING by Nkem Akin
“Efe Sagay grew up and went to school in Nigeria. While attending school she met the love of her life, her soul mate, the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with…Kevwe Mukoro. And the feelings were duplicated by Kevwe. As soon as Efe graduated, they would be married. This was the dream and this was the plan. But real life doesn’t always see things the way we do. The perfect future can always be destroyed by unforeseen circumstances.” ~ Martha A. Cheves, Author.

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