Tuesday, March 9th, 2021
This novelette (it’s a little longer than a short story) is FREE for the next few days only! Get your copy! But be warned—it’s a menage, and it’s hot!!
Archive for 'menage'
Friday, January 8th, 2021
UPDATE: The winners are Annie Kavanagh and Amy Dudley!
*~*~*
Depending on how long you’ve been reading me, you might not be aware of my naughty, nine-book, cowboy ménage series, Lone Star Lovers. All my sexiest fantasies are rolled up in those stories. Two cowboys, three cowboys, four… All that attention on one lucky girl… Heck, it’s not really fair, and there must be something in the water in Two Mule, Texas because there’s a whole lotta sharin’ goin’ on. 🙂
Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of my Lone Star Lovers books!
Family Values
Three brothers competing for one woman’s heart learn the values of patience and sharing….
Angelina Flores lived a perfect ranch-kid childhood, complete with three princes on horseback who treated their housekeeper’s daughter like a princess. At age eighteen, the fairytale came crashing down when she realized she had to choose between Brand, Nate, and Eli McAffee. And when she did choose one—she lost all three.
She’s older now. Wiser, thanks to her college education and a few years’ distance. A distance she’d planned to maintain…until her mother begs her to fill in at the ranch while she takes care of a sick relative.
The minute her boots hit the front porch, the memories come flooding back, right along with the hunger. It’s tough to put the past behind her when temptation is so close. Especially since the brothers seem bound and determined to woo her. Separately. Together. Whatever it takes to keep her right where she belongs—in their arms.
An Excerpt from Family Values…
For Angelina Flores, stepping across the threshold of the MacAfee ranch house was a moment filled with both nostalgia and pain. The dull thud her boots made on the natural, planed-oak flooring was a familiar sound—and not one she’d heard anywhere else. The faint smells of beeswax and Pine-Sol mixed with the scent of the freshly cut roses in the Mexican crockery atop the rugged fireplace mantel. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself at ten years old, running with her muddy boots through the family room to tell her mother about her day, about the animals and the cowboys—her new friends, who’d let her ride behind them on their tall horses.
Her childhood had felt enchanted. And she’d had three handsome princes fawning over her, showering her with pretty clothes and dolls. Even then, she’d dreamed of growing up and having a fairytale wedding, and when they’d teased her and asked her which one she’d choose for her husband, she’d asked why she couldn’t choose them all.
How prophetic that now seemed. As, when she’d approached graduation from high school, two of the McAfee men had suddenly let her know of their individual interest.
Oh, she’d been flattered. And thrilled. Until the moment she’d realized she really would have to choose. Then she’d been filled with dread, because she didn’t want to hurt any of them, and she didn’t know how she could favor one over the other, especially when she was also interested in the third.
Angelina shook her head to rid herself of the painful memories and entered with trepidation, wondering what her welcome would be like once the brothers returned home. The last time she’d been here, in this room, she’d been led through it by a hard hand clamped around her upper arm. She’d been escorted crying and half-dressed back to her room off the kitchen, and then her door closed in her face.
The next morning, she’d been taken by the same hard-faced man through the back door to his Expedition parked beside the porch. The chill in the morning air not nearly as cold as his final goodbye at the Dallas airport.
She’d been eighteen, and the only place she’d ever called home was her home no more.
Angelina took a deep breath and stepped farther into the room. She set her suitcase on the floor beside her and tilted her head to listen for any sounds of movement in the house. Her mother had said the MacAfee boys were at an auction in San Angelo, and that she’d have the place to herself for the weekend, to acclimate and to shore up her nerves.
“Mama, you know why I can’t be there,” she’d said in the early morning hours, holding back her hair and squinting at the digital alarm beside her bed.
“I have no one else I can trust, mija. It’s been years. Things have changed. You have changed. No one will say a word about the past. Have I ever asked anything of you, Angel?”
Angelina’s shoulders had slumped. “I don’t know if I can go there,” she’d whispered.
“I know it will be hard, Angel. I know. But you must take my place and look after the boys while I am away. Do this for me, please?”
She’d taken a deep breath and gripped her cellphone harder. “How long? How long must I stay?”
“Your Aunt Cecilia is having a hysterectomy. I might be weeks.”
Angelina shook her head. Her stomach twisted in a knot, and sudden nausea made her skin clammy. “I’ll have to call my boss. Damn, he’ll probably let me go. I just started there.”
“Gracias, mija. You will see. You worry for nothing. The past is the past.”
But the past wasn’t so distant that she didn’t feel the same longing as she gazed around the room for dreams she’d shattered when she’d followed her heart to make the biggest mistake of her life. And she would never forget the shame.
After picking up her bag, she trudged toward the kitchen and beyond it, to the small bedroom that had been her own when she was a child and the world had seemed such a bright place, full of romantic possibilities.
But princes didn’t exist, at least not in her realm. And she wasn’t a starry-eyed chatterbox anymore, eager to sit on certain cowboys’ knees. She was a college graduate. Had her own job—maybe. Her own place. She’d made a life for herself. The fact she still felt pangs of loneliness late at night when she went to bed alone was something she’d eventually outgrow. Someday. And somewhere far from the MacAfee ranch.
Wednesday, November 25th, 2020
Dear Delilah Fans,
My new release is a real scorcher. When the idea for this novella started forming in my mind, the story unfolded in quick bursts. Then I panicked. It was way over the top.
So I shelved it. Over a couple of years, I’d go back and do what writers do, pick at it, think about it. Then the ending became clear, and that pulled it back from the danger zone.
It’s still an edgy story and for those of you with trigger issues, please note that the story involves initial dubious consent.
Allison is an independent woman with strong ideas about what her life should be. Her relationship with Dane is steady and comfortable for them both. I can’t say much more without giving away too much of the story – it’s full of surprises.
MMF romance has always been hard for me to imagine. Men aren’t generally comfortable with same-sex experimentation. Most menage a trois involves one man and two women. But that’s not what women like to imagine. The idea of two men touching you is, well, pretty damn hot!
Him & Her…and Him
Christmas Eve. Iced in at her boyfriend Dane’s business, Allison Spears mouths off to a man working there, daring him to, well, take her by force, if she has to be blunt about it. Next thing she knows, he has her backed up to the wall, his eyes glinting with lewd intent. And damn it, he’s taking her breath away.
Where is Dane? Why won’t this stud Hank back off? She knows there are ways to force him, but things are getting heated and maybe… Maybe she doesn’t want him to quit.
What begins as a rough and tumble encounter turns into something completely unexpected as Hank reveals what Dane had asked him to do. Next thing Allison knows, she and Hank and Dane are connecting in ways she never imagined. Her secrets aren’t the only ones popping up around here.
Excerpt from Him & Her…and Him
“Do you want me, little girl?” Hank said, his lips curling into a sardonic grin.
Was this his game, some kind of fucking ego trip where she was supposed to beg?
“No, hell no,” she snapped, trying to gain control. If she could get her knee in position… “I don’t even know you. And I’m not a ‘little girl,’ you sick pervert.”
He barked a laugh that echoed off the walls. “I noticed. And sure you do. I’m the guy you think about when you’re lying in bed all alone and touch yourself.”
“Of all the… I don’t…”
“Don’t lie to me, sweetness. You get punished for lying.”
In a half-hearted attempt to free herself, she shoved against his hard chest. He didn’t move a centimeter. Instead, he laughed again. Fear spiked up her throat. What if…
Then a darker emotion swept down her belly where it coiled and waited like a low-lying reptile, a most degrading sensation. Her desire for him to force her doubled, tripled. Take her right there on the cold concrete garage floor. An image of being bent over his knees, her naked buttocks stinging under his big palm as blow after blow slapped her—her thighs squeezed together at the thought.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I touch myself.”
“Fuck.” He stepped back, his glittering eyes raking her up and down until she felt stripped bare. She straightened her clothes with short jerky motions, trying to regain control.
~~~
Novella of 22,200 words: MMF erotica romance
Only 99 cents!
Buy links:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1053915
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08NC8V3LP
Saturday, February 1st, 2020
UPDATE: The winners are… Delaine McLafferty, Misty Dawn Cecil, and Elaine Swinney!
*~*~*
Besides my series, I have written some very sexy standalone stories, too! I forget about them because I’m so busy trying to keep up with series, but I shouldn’t. In fact, I should go back and look at my workplan, because I deserve to write something completely fun and one-off!
If you haven’t read the books below, now’s your time to peruse, and I’m including an excerpt from one of them so you can sample some of the fun. Several of them are menage stories, so if that’s your thing, be sure to check them out!
Contest
For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me your weekend plans!
Click on any cover to learn more about the story!
Excerpt from Handy Men…
The impulse came like a flash of lightning—hot and searing—all the way to the bone. An idea born of a need she hadn’t felt in a long, long time…and inspired by one red-hot handyman in butt-hugging jeans and a snug T-shirt.
The man fired the militant gleam in her eyes as she brushed bronzing powder across her cheeks and swiped carmine “eat me” red lip stain across her mouth.
She didn’t give herself time to rethink the decision, reaching for the phone before her usual, cautious self reasserted control. No more couch potato cry-ins for her. No more self-imposed exclusion while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. Today, a new Pamela Dwyer was reaching for the goddamn gusto.
The anger felt good. Especially after the shock she’d received moments ago when she’d surfed the internet for the latest gossip about her ex.
One glance at Andrew’s Facebook page, and Pamela’s confusion over what the hell had happened to her life dried up. He’d blocked her from his page, but his profile picture had been changed from Andrew’s handsome, craggy face to the soft innocence of his newborn son’s.
The picture said it all. And no doubt every one of their friends here in Austin, who’d rallied around her when he’d left, would now pour out their congratulations to him, while privately agreeing he’d done the only thing he could do to be happy.
Tears had stung her eyes, but she’d refused to let them fall. Instead, she’d blinked them away, closed out the screen and glanced through the blinds at her immaculate lawn. The perfect lawn and landscaping to surround the perfectly appointed house she’d won in the divorce settlement.
But back to that lightning strike…
Across the street, a man had stood atop a ladder while he fished leaves from old Mr. Johnson’s gutters. It wasn’t the fact the old man had spent money to hire someone to do odd jobs around his place that caught her attention, although that was plenty unusual all by itself. It was the way the sunlight glinted on the younger man’s hair. Glints of gold she could see from over thirty feet away. And once her attention was snagged by that halo-like glow, her gaze couldn’t help but trail down the long, lean, buff lines of his healthy frame.
From the back, the man was perfection. Then he’d turned to the side, no doubt to say something to Mr. Johnson who hovered at the bottom of the ladder. The old skinflint would supervise the handyman to make sure he got every nickel’s worth of his money. However, not a hint of irritation showed in the handyman’s expression. His smile had been quick—a flash of white teeth against a tanned face.
Pamela had breathed deeply, enjoying the surge of heat flowing through her veins. So much better than the cold, hollow feeling in her womb. Arousal had bloomed, fresh and unexpected, washing over her, lapping away the disappointment. Leaving her…expectant. Feeling younger than her thirty-eight years.
There were times in a woman’s life when she had to grab the bull by the horns or she’d never taste passion again. Pamela decided then and there that her time was now.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed.
Christ, do I really have the guts? She’d had twenty minutes to get icy cold feet.
She held her hand in front of her face and blew against her palm then sniffed. Mouthwash still works.
Before opening her door, Pamela bent over, shook her head then straightened, giving her straight blonde hair an extra fluff. She pasted on a smile—not too wide or eager—one she’d practiced in front of the bathroom mirror to make sure it reflected just the right amount of casual interest. She didn’t want to scare him away. At least not before she had a chance to practice being a femme fatale.
However, after opening the door, her smile faltered just a bit. Up close, the repairman was more of a rangy lion than a bull, and even more attractive than her secretive glances through the blinds had revealed. Thickly muscled arms and a broad chest stretching a green Handy Men tee filled her vision.
Maybe she should have targeted someone more in her league—and at least fifteen years older. However, when she’d seen him working on the rain gutters of her neighbor’s house and watched the way he moved gracefully up and down the ladder, a plan had begun to form. One she was too invested in to back out of now.
“Your neighbor said you were havin’ trouble with a garbage disposal?”
Good Lord, his voice was deep and sinful. Her greedy glance shot up to meet his, and she noted the crinkles of amusement at the sides of his eyes. Blue eyes with golden coronas around the pupils. Yum.
Realizing her mouth hung open, she snapped her jaw closed. “Uh, yes. Trouble with the disposal. That’s why you’re here.”
It was the truth, so she didn’t stutter over it. However, she didn’t mention she’d thrown a handful of screws into the sink to make sure the old disposal seized. Her plan to lure him into her house was working like a charm. She wished her ex could see her now. Plain Pam, reliable Pam, boring, defective Pam had a few tricks left.
“I’m Jeff McCaffrey,” he said, and held out his hand.
Blowing out a little breath to release her tension, she gave him her hand and shook. “Pamela,” she said quickly.
His palms were callused and large. She slid her hand slowly from his, enjoying the scrape. Even if things didn’t work out, she’d have plenty of sensory details to savor later to go along with the lovely picture he made.
“Um…” He lifted the toolbox with a flex of impressive biceps and raised his eyebrows.
It took a second to register that he needed her to move away from the door. Feeling flustered, she stood back and waved him inside. She closed the door behind him and followed eagerly on his heels into the hallway.
He halted abruptly.
Unable to stop her forward momentum, Pamela held out her hands to brace herself—and cupped his ass.
His head swiveled to glance back at her, a slight, dazed smile curving his mouth.
She paused a second too long before removing them, but it was his own damn fault. His ass was too much temptation for her to resist a little squeeze. “Sorry about that,” she muttered, palms and face burning. Lord, she was thirty-eight, and he had her blushing like a teenager. Her flirting skills were woefully rusty.
He cleared his throat and pointed toward the door on the left. “The kitchen?”
“Yeah,” she said, sounding a little winded, but her fingers tingled and her skin felt on fire. She hadn’t wanted to come on to the younger man like a cougar in heat, but he was fine-fine-fine.
He swung open the door and walked to the counter, where he set his toolbox beside the sink. “What sort of noises was it makin’?”
“Crunchy?”
“Crunchy?” His lips twitched.
She shrugged. He was the “Mr. Fix-It”. He’d figure out soon enough what the problem was. Maybe he’d think the screws in the disposal had gotten there by accident.
He reached beneath the cabinet next to the sink and flipped the switch.
Metallic grating made her wince. The poor thing ground worse than her ex’s teeth.
Without looking back, he said, “Don’t touch the switch. I don’t have my tongs, so I’m gonna stick my hand down there to see what’s happenin’.”
In his hand went, and he turned slightly to the side, his gaze meeting hers while a frown drew his honey-brown brows together. When he pulled free, he held a screw. “Wonder how that happened?” he drawled.
She grinned brightly. “Serendipity?”
“Wha—?”
So maybe not a brain surgeon, or even much of a reader, but the calculated stare he returned told her he wasn’t stupid. He pulled out another and laid it on the countertop, and then another. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me, Pamela?”
Saturday, November 30th, 2019
Hello Sexy Readers,
Thanks for joining me on Delilah Devlin’s blog today, and a huge shout out to her as well. I hope everyone is excited for the holidays. I know I am. I plan on making great memories. So what if my kids are twenty, eighteen, and fourteen? We’ll still be making gingerbread houses, decking the halls, watching all the animated Christmas movies, and enjoying our favorite homemade goodies.
While I was writing Triple Naughty Christmas, I incorporated a few of my family’s holiday rituals here and there, including the all-important sausage balls. I know: Everyone makes them, but mine are the best. I cook up a bunch of those tasty hors d’oeuvres every year and take a batch of them to every family gathering I attend. Everyone raves and no one understands why their sausage balls don’t come out as well. Friends and relatives always ask for the recipe which I graciously provide with a smile on my face.
Now I won’t bore you with my sausage ball recipe. It’s the same one you’ll find on any number of websites, and having it means nothing. What I will do you, is fill you lovelies in on all my secrets (Yay for pen names—can’t let my in-laws know I’ve been holding out on them.). The first trick is simple enough: milk. The high calcium drink isn’t listed in the ingredients for sausage balls in my cookbook, and it’s usually omitted in most, but you need it. If you try to mix two or more cups of baking mix in with your sausage and cheese without a few splashes, you are going to have some hard, dry balls (yuck!) Don’t ask how much to add. It depends on how much baking mix you use. I’ve seen recipes call for anywhere between one cup (amateurs) to three and a half to pair with their shredded cheese and one pound of sausage (What are they thinking?) Trust me. Two cups are all you need. The consistency will tell you if you’ve used the right amount of milk or if you need to add more. If you manage to put too much milk in, well, bless your heart. You can salvage by adding some more baking mix but all bets are off on you reaching holiday pork nirvana.
Rule two: Use your hands (Wash them well first, of course). I’ve seen people use mixers or expensive food processors so they don’t have to touch raw pork. Good luck with that—it’s not going to taste right unless you get your hands in there and mix it to perfection. This holiday treat is a tradition and a labor of love. You have to finesse it with your own fingers before rolling those puppies into pretty balls.
Now if you follow rules one and two, you will have some yummy sausage balls, but they still likely won’t be as good as mine because rule three is key. Buy premium sausage! I recommend the hot Bass Farms if it is available in your area. If not, you will have to labor with trial and error until you find what’s best and freshest in your neck of the woods. Of course, what’s really important is that you get your loved ones in the kitchen with you to knead your mixture and roll your balls. Have fun and Bon appetite!
*****
Two husbands, four kids, a gaggle of nosy neighbors, a car accident, the best present ever, a naughty party, and a mother-in-law expected for Christmas.
How will Trisha ever pull it off?
Triple Naughty Christmas by Sierra Brave
Series: Triple Passion Play – Book Four
Hashtags: #Menage #BisexualRomance #RomanticComedy #Holiday
Release date: 29th November 2019 (Preorder Available)
Amazon Buy Links: US, UK, CA, AU
Also Available at other Major Retailers: https://books2read.com/u/bzvGw9
What it’s all about…
Navigating the Yuletide season can be a challenge for anyone but after hosting their family Christmas celebration for more than fifteen years, forty-something mom, Trisha Marks-Davidson, believes she’s conquered Santa and tamed all of his reindeer. Anything but ordinary, Trisha’s family of seven consists of herself, her two husbands, Tommy and Ken, and their four kids. Despite their unusual situation, she’s cultivated a system for a fun-filled holiday packed with their own special traditions.
Trisha, Tommy, and Ken are pleased with the quiet, comfortable life they’ve built together but are disturbed to learn the novelty of their three-way union still hasn’t worn off for some members of their community even after nearly two decades. A last-minute decision to attend a neighborhood Christmas party could be the trio’s undoing. The opportunity to set the record straight is there for the taking but actions speak louder than words and temptation is all around them.
Excerpt:
Glancing at the mirror, Ken caught the reflection of a slight movement in the shadows just outside the door and sighed. “Just how long have you been skulking in the darkness?”
“Long enough.” Trisha stepped into the room with them. Bathed in the bathroom’s bright lights, her platinum highlights shimmered within her long, sandy-colored locks. Ken glanced at Thomas, noting the way he eyed Trisha’s tanned, toned and completely nude form. Ken couldn’t blame him. Even after all these years, she was an impressive beauty and Thomas hadn’t seen her for a few days. A primal yearning stirred within Ken as he watched his husband’s gaze eyes linger over Trisha’s breasts and taut nipples before breezing over her tummy to her bikini area’s neatly trimmed triangle of curls. Ken stepped closer to her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a smooch against her soft, warm lips. She smelled of sex and cinnamon-scented body lotion. “Why didn’t you join us?”
“You two seemed to be doing just fine on your own, and I didn’t want to interrupt your anniversary sex.” Ken ran his hands over the small of Trisha’s back before cupping her naked ass. She was in pretty good shape by any standards, but for a forty-four-year-old, mother of four, she was a goddess.
“I can’t believe you were hiding in the shadows like a stalker.” Thomas wagged his head at her.
“Well…I was awoken by the unmistakable sound of my husband receiving a blow job, and by the time I was able to force myself out of bed to check things out, you two were intensely focused on each other. Honestly, I couldn’t pry my eyes away. It was so hot!”
Ken smacked her butt playfully, eliciting a tiny squeal, “Naughty peeper. Maybe I should grab the hairbrush and punish you.” Trisha’s face lit up. She enjoyed playing the naughty college co-ed to his strict professor, and Ken loved the way her ass jiggled when he spanked her. Sadly, Thomas was never interested in playing those games with them. Ken’s cock twitched a hair at the mere thought of putting the big, sexy blond man over his knee.
“I already came, but if we have any more of those little, blue pills, I’ll be glad to give you equal time, Trish.” Thomas smiled at her from his partially slumped-over position on the side of the tub. Ken smirked, secretly proud to have drained the poor guy dry.
Leaning against the counter with her legs crossed at the ankles, Trisha shook her head, a smirk playing on her pouty lips. “I’m good. Why do you think Ken and I were naked when you got home?”
*****
Other books in the Triple Passion Play series: Can love between three survive?
Connect with Sierra
Website: https://sierrabrave.rocks/
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/BraveSierra
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sierrabraveauthor/
Wednesday, November 6th, 2019
Hi! I live in the deep dark woods of NW Wisconsin with one big happy mutt, three spoiled felines and my spousal unit. I love it up here. It’s quiet, peaceful and cold enough to freeze your gotchies off.
I began writing my make believe stories after being medically retired from the traditional workforce. I suppose my great need for escapism necessitated the birth of the Star Brides trilogy. It was either create a different world and alternate reality or run screaming into the woods! And as noted above, it gets pretty cold up here.
Throughout, I believe I’ve been true to the three women whose adventures I’ve chronicled. Each one, although very different in nature, has managed to be true to their principles while carving out a place for themselves in challenging cultural environments.
I guess you could say I believe in a woman’s strength and ability to stand up for herself, to yell, and kick, and fight for what she needs.
Janine Longo (Dept. of Corrections) continues that tradition. She’s a strong woman in a tough place making decisions about her future that some wouldn’t agree with. If you choose to share her journey, know that I write erotica. While the sex is explicit, there is no sex between the men in the book. My stories are all about her!
Star Brides 3: Dept. of Corrections
Inmate 1640, Janine Longo, would do anything to escape serving her long and well-deserved prison sentence. Anything. Including, leaving Earth with Zuntx warrior Kadir, to serve as mate to him and the three other men of his unit. Scarred and disfigured Kadir, is growing desperate. His third time as a Bridal Fair participant is about to end in failure, and the money has run out. Kadir can’t afford a fourth attempt. So, when the woman in the orange jumpsuit agrees to accompany him, he accepts her offer. The thriving bustling planet, Zuntx, that Kadir left behind is not the same place anymore. Riot torn, the planet’s homeless men now wander aimlessly seeking food, shelter and women. This is not at all what Janine had in mind. Can Janine find redemption on Zuntx? Is this her second chance? Can she learn to love all her men?
Buy links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Star-Brides-Corrections-Publishing-PolyAmour-ebook/dp/B07Y2CJ52X/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=star+brides%3A+dept.+of+corrections&qid
Siren Publishing: https://www.bookstrand.com/book/star-brides-dept-of-corrections-mfmmm
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/star-brides-pia-manning/1133652760?ean=9781642439571
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Star+Brides%3A+Dept.+of+Corrections
And as always, I would love to hear from you! Please feel free to leave a comment, or contact me at:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/piamanning3
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pia.manning.71
WordPress: https://wordpress.com/view/piamanning.wordpress.com
Email: pia.manning@yahoo.com
Thank you, again, for having me as a guest on your blog!
Take care,
Pia Manning
Tuesday, November 5th, 2019
I have a new release! WARNING: This one’s not for the faint of heart. However, if you’re ready for a very spicy ménage that involves some beasty-demon sex, this one’s for you! Hope you enjoy it! And remember, if you do read it, reviews are always appreciated!
Harvest Moon
In Jefferson Parish, deep in the bayou, is a place called Bonne Nuit. Off the beaten path, isolated by swamp and connected to the sea, there the Beaux Rêve Coven thrives.
Five witches…Too many demons to count…
Radha’s sister witches become concerned when her health begins to fail. Her sleep is never restful, but they are unable to pinpoint what is wrong.
Khan, a jinn who’s been tasked to serve as her guardian, has watched her restless sleep and believes he knows the answer. Her dreams may be haunted by a demon set on draining her of power. As much as Khan loathes the idea, he seeks an old enemy, a vanir, whose magic should allow him to enter Radha’s nightmares to slay the Mare, an enemy bent on taking advantage of Radha’s vulnerability to make her his own.Until the vanir arrives, Khan and the satyr who is her other guardian must keep her safe—even from their own lustful natures.
Get your copy now!
FREE to KU subscribers!
