Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Born Into Fire - KyAnn Waters and Tarah Scott
Just released from Loose id!

to purchase

Ryalda, the Element heroes of old, leak from the void and bring with them beauty, desire...and destruction.

Change is hard, but the unexpected metamorphosis into fire goes beyond any change Kenna Lang could ever have imagined. When she discovers her ancestors are actually ancient beings who exist in a void beyond our universe and the dragons of her childhood dreams are real, life as she knows it is over.

Erion, an Air Element, answers the call of Kenna’s emerging fire to discover a woman on the cusp of transformation. He’s drawn to her, the need to mate overwhelming. However, Erion killed once before by having sex in element form, and has sworn not to merge with another Element. But the discovery that a male Fire Element is intent upon enslaving Kenna’s soul forces Erion to get involved. He will save her. But he aches to do more than protect her. He wants to touch her -- to pleasure her, but he can't risk bonding his Element to hers.

Erion is unprepared for the emotions Kenna awakens in him -- or the lengths to which she will go to save him.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Sex while in shifted Element form


A breeze -- that was him -- fluttered the ivory curtains. Moonlight streamed through the open window, outlining the sleeping form beneath the sheet covering the queen-size bed. He hovered. Why had he answered the call of her element? He had no right. Anguish wrenched through him. Long ago, he’d answered the call of another Element, and she’d paid with her life. The memory -- the pain -- didn’t stop the rake of his gaze down the cotton sheet that revealed every lush curve of the sleeping woman’s body. Desire streaked through him. The fabric ruffled in response to his command, then slid downward.

He sucked in a harsh breath. Softly molded shoulders gave way to rounded breasts tipped with quarter-size nipples, then a flat tummy and trim thighs led to long, toned legs. An unexpected vision surfaced of those legs wrapped tight around his waist while he thrust into her. The swirling vortex that was his core leaped into a furious dance.

Go, his mind commanded.

Fluid veins of amber light erupted beneath her skin. He stood frozen, her fire a drag on his wind that lay open the ache buried deep within.

Leave, came a second panicked admonition.

She inhaled.

Realization hit. Too late.

She drew him deep into her lungs. Warmth infused him in a heady rush. He struggled in desperation to escape the current, but each beat of her heart thrummed through him, echoing in his mind in a thunderous rhythm. The flow of blood through her veins washed over him like a thick velvet river.

And he gave in.

As if sensing him, she hesitated, then breathed him out on a shaky exhale. He shuddered, the loss tearing a howl of fury from him.

More. She wanted more. He needed more.

As wind, he lay beyond tangible comprehension, a cool breeze, nothing more. He could take a small piece and not imprint on her. This woman would be born into fire -- without him.

In one decadent breath, he draped himself over her, touched all of her. Her heated skin cooled. No mortal man could experience her as he did. No mortal man could touch her as he could. He chilled the air over her nipples, then watched as they peaked and felt them pucker. Commanding a gentle breeze, he caressed her contours, fitting his shape to hers.

She moaned. Excitement rocketed through him, and the current within him swirled. She shivered beneath him. He hesitated. Even a second too long would leave her with a sense of familiarity. He must leave or risk revealing himself -- or worse, bonding.

Heat pooled between her legs. Every fiber of his being screamed go. Yet, as if anchored by unseen chains, he remained motionless, unable to tear his eyes from the sight of energy that built in her erogenous points.

Only a moment, his heart urged. A mere whisper of her essence to ease the emptiness. Then he would leave.

He focused hot pressure, the wispy kiss of an Air Element, to her neck. As he trailed the pressure to her nipple, he turned the air icy. She bowed off the bed. He filled the space behind her arched back, curving up toward her neck and down across her rounded buttocks. Her breath came in quick pants, frosting in the air -- in him.

Frigid pressure tightened her nipples to erect peaks. He swirled air around the tips. She collapsed, thrashing on the pillow, and covered her breasts as if to ease the aching cold he created. Her hands heated until they glowed. The fire within her.

The glow spread up her arms, radiated out from her torso, and emitted a scorching heat that heightened his frequency to a fevered pitch. Fire. Fiera. His heart constricted. He had no right to name her. He would not be the one to bring her into being. She would seek another. But he would have this memory.

Air spun around her body. Faster, hotter. The friction against her skin hardened him. His core grew heavier. Spread your legs. The unbidden words echoed in his mind, but the unspoken command carried on the current of his breath and caressed her ear. She pulled her legs up and, knees bent, opened wide for him. He glided downward until his breath disturbed the auburn curls covering her mound.

Scent of her arousal penetrated his core. Need to shift into human form and taste her sweet nectar pooled energy into his center. He moved upward, concentrating until he held the gossamer form of a man, and settled vaporous hips between her thighs. In air form, he couldn’t slip his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth, couldn’t spread her damp folds, or plunge his rigid cock into the forbidden depths of her. But he could feel the heat.

Open for me, he coaxed.

Fiera moaned and reached between her legs. With a delicate stroke, she traced the seam of her pussy. He vibrated the air over her clit. A soft smile tilted her lips. Satisfaction rippled through him. She wanted more.

In a cyclone of current, he swirled around her. Strands of her flaming red hair danced in the static-filled air. Her peach-hued nipples puckered, her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took.

More energy. Faster wind. Yes. Her hips rose off the bed, and she plunged a finger inside her channel. When she fit a second finger into her drenched opening and thrust deep, energy shot in a jagged pattern from his core to her channel. She cried out. Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t wake.

With her free hand she touched her clit and thrust wildly against an unseen force. Him. Gyrating her hips, bucking and arching, she fucked him, but used her own fingers. His mind whirled with her energy. It was as if she swirled around him.

© KyAnn Waters & Tarah Scott, November 2010
All Rights Reserved

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Erotic content - 18+ Only

The Naughty List
KyAnn Waters
Ellora's Cave
Releasing Dec 8th!!


T’was a week before Christmas and Mrs. Claus conspires. Proposition Jack Frost to give Santa his greatest desire…

Santa ceased struggling against his bindings. Blindfolded and mute, he could do little more than grunt and anticipate the inevitable conclusion of this seditious act of perfidy. After Jack had removed Santa’s boots, he wound leather straps around Santa’s ankles. A two-inch thick leather collar buckled around his neck. He could swallow, but the movement put pressure on his Adam’s apple. Even if tape wasn’t stretched across his mouth, he doubted he’d be able to call out for help. A shudder ripped over his flesh. Heaviness weighted on his chest and his head lightened with euphoric intoxication. He was bound, gagged and apparently at the mercy of Jack Frost. That thought both thrilled and terrified.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand why Abby would conspire against him. Why would she trust the devious Jack Frost?

Just today he’d checked the list, checked it twice! Jack was still naughty and Abby was still nice.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Jack hollered. Santa cringed. The reindeer didn’t respond well to harsh commands. The sleigh bumped and rolled over the frozen rivers and through the woods to Jack’s abode. Santa tried to keep from rolling off the rear seat of the sleigh by bracing his feet.

For as long as Santa had been on the job, Jack had been on the naughty list. He’d done some wily acts in his years, but he’d never fucked with Santa Claus. Never truly broken North Pole laws. Until now.

The sleigh came to a jarring halt. Santa grunted.

“Almost home,” Jack said as he pulled the warm fur blanket from Santa. Jack jumped into the sleigh, helped Santa to sit, then straddled Santa’s lap and tugged off the blindfold. “I don’t live in North Pole city limits. No one is around.” He tightened his thighs to Santa’s flanks. “No one will know what I do to you.” He rocked his pelvis, crushing his groin to Santa’s. “No one will hear you call out for help.”

With each seductive word from Jack, Santa began to understand what was about to happen, what he was unwilling to acknowledge he wanted. To do so would be naughty—and Santa was never naughty.

A shiver of apprehension skated over Santa. Was Jack going to give him a choice?

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you in my workshop, Santa?” He grinned as he carefully worked the corner of the tape loose. “I have toys.” Jack’s gray eyes clouded with lust. “Bats and balls. Paddles and rope.” The tape slowly peeled away from Santa’s tingling lips. Santa didn’t have a long beard, rather sported neatly trimmed whiskers and a tightly groomed mustache. The tape tugged on the hairs as Jack pried it away. “Or would you rather play with blow-up dolls and Silly Putty?”

The Naughty List by KyAnn Waters



Sunday, May 09, 2010

Just released from Siren Publishing!

Cinderella Undercover
copyright KyAnn Waters
All Rights Reserved Siren-Bookstrand

To Purchase http://www.bookstrand.com/cinderella-undercover

Victoria Rosso works for Echelon Shield, an elite group of special agents. Their assignments sometimes require they work outside legal boundaries. Her assignment--to help the one man who'd ever gotten under her skin. Jaron Quinn was the best lover she'd ever had--and the one who left her six months ago without an explanation.

Jaron is undercover and has missed his extraction date. He works best under pressure and as former Navy SEAL, he's been in harried situations before. Apparently ES has concerns. What in the hell is Victoria doing on his mission? It doesn’t take long to realize Cinderella Undercover is there for Jaron. So much for a simple operation. Now he has to deal with the one woman who knows exactly how to push his buttons--especially the switch that turns him on.


"Are you here for me?" he whispered, knowing Maxwell's security team would be listening through the devices placed throughout the room. The house was wired, but there were a few safe locations. The most sophisticated equipment wasn't failsafe. ES's intel had been detailed and extensive but hadn't sufficiently profiled what Jaron would encounter.

"Not you, specifically." The breathy words whispered near his ear. The seductive scent of her perfume lingered close to her skin. He breathed deeply. "But I'm sure I could be of service to you."

"Maybe I'm not interested." A slow surging of blood to his dick made a liar of him.

Inhaling, she brushed her breasts against his chest. Then she released a shuddering exhale. The angle of her hips rubbed her against the hard bulge of his cock swelling against the zipper of his jeans. "I assure you." She rocked against him, playing her role perfectly. "I can assist you with your not-so-small problem."

He growled, gripped her hips, and let her feel the full measure of his arousal. "Are you sure you know what you're asking for? I like to play rough, dirty."

"Then you think it's dangerous for me to play with you?"

"Damn straight. A smart, beautiful woman should know when she's in over her head."

"Hmm. Maybe I like to play with fire." She nipped his chin. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wait until after I speak with Mr. Evenson. I believe he has plans for me this evening."

Rage, white and hot, flashed through him. Six months ago, his future was too uncertain to continue his involvement with Victoria. But if she thought for a minute he'd be able to stand by and watch her flirt or anything else with a brutal man like Maxwell Evenson, she was out of her beautiful mind.

Jaron didn't give a damn why Amine thought he needed to send her in. He could handle Evenson. No way was he letting Tory involve herself.

He leaned in, pinning her to the wall. "You should know we're under surveillance."

"I like an audience." She cocked her head coyly to the side. "Do you want to watch?"

He released a breath. "What do you think?" She knew he did. The last time they were together, Victoria draped across the bed, her thighs open while she fingered her clit. Small gentle circles at first built pressure until she bit hard on her lower lip and cream trickled from her center. He'd delved between her thighs, lapped her honey until they'd both been drunk with lust.

Jaron convinced himself what he'd felt for her couldn't be love, because he'd had to protect her--by leaving her. Staying together put her at too much risk. Frank had shown him that. Shown him that a man who lived on the edge and risked his life for the cause couldn't love a woman like Victoria. Yes, she was part of ES, but she would never infiltrate cave camps in Afghanistan, or become part of a Central American drug cartel to stop the flow of cocaine over the border. Amine had pointed out the hard truths. Jaron might not come home one day. They both loved Victoria enough not to put her through the loss of another person she loved.

Jaron brought their faces close together. "If you push me, princess, I'm going to give you exactly what you want."

"Princess? Perhaps you should be on your knees."

He chuckled. Breath mingled. "A tempting offer." One he remembered sampling often. He recalled her swollen pink lips, parting her silken inner folds with his thumbs, and tonguing the pearl of her pussy, making her cream against his mouth. Swallowing hard, he salivated with want for a taste.

"I was given the impression that my services were needed." Her pulse fluttered in the long column of her neck. She trembled at his nearness.

"You have no idea." His hand molded to her hip. "But not here. Not now." He spoke close to her lips. All he had to do was close the space between them. Their lips would touch, but that would compromise an already-delicate situation.

Eventually, any new connection between them would complicate their precarious situation. Whatever they once had, and as bitter as the notion was, this was a connection they shouldn't have again. He wasn't good for her, and she was too good for him.

Tell that to his cock.

Memories of her throaty laugh when she reached orgasm came rushing through his mind with the force of a tidal wave. He'd thought incessantly of her since the night he'd left her bed...her life. Yet here she was and he felt the same carnal desires jack hammering through his body.

He hesitated less than a minute. "Fuck." He had to kiss her. "I can't believe you're here. God, but I wish you weren't." His mouth descended, hot, demanding, thoroughly kissing her. He pinned her to the wall, crushing her soft curves to his hard lines.

"Liar." She moaned, melted against him as her arms circled his shoulders, gripping him. He wasn't sure if she pushed him to get away, or clawed at him to move closer. He only knew he couldn't stop the onslaught of need and desire. Applying pressure, he urged her mouth open, slipped his tongue past her teeth and exerted mild suction. Fuck. She tasted better than he remembered. Warm and soft lips pressed more firmly against his. Not light, tentative, or cautious. Deepening the heated kiss, he coaxed her tongue to dance with his.

He wanted more. He wanted her. But they were being watched. He already risked revealing their familiarity in their whispered words. Therefore, he wrenched his mouth from hers. His chest heaved as he regained his control. Yeah, right. With Victoria, he never felt in control.

Cinderella Undercover
Erotic Romance Author

Friday, April 30, 2010

Johnny Loves Krissy is Here!! Just Released

Johnny Loves Krissy
Copyright KyAnn Waters
All Rights Reserved, The Wild Rose Press
Erotic Contemporary
The Wilder Roses
e-book novel $6.00
rated double rose

To Purchase http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=182&products_id=770

Kristina Taylor's biological clock just went off. She has endometriosis. Now “who's your baby's daddy” just took on a completely new meaning. A brilliant plan for conception includes her hot best friend Johnny

Knock her up? Krissy has to be crazy. Or is she? Johnny has loved her since high school. Her plan might not include life after baby. His does. But how is he going to show her how good they can be together with all her rules--no kissing, no touching, no caressing. He can make love to her, but she's determined not to enjoy it. To hell with that and to hell with her rules. He's determined to show her friendship is the best foundation for a relationship.

But there are always complications. ..

With Johnny, Krissy is afraid to look to the future. Right now, she can't get enough of the present, and she dreads the thought of losing what she's had with him in the past. Huston. Taking him to bed won't be a hardship--if she can only get him to play by her rules. After all, she wants to maintain their friendship. Not easy if he ends up being the best sex of her life.


"Our baby," she whispered with awe and wonder discernable in her voice. "Is this really happening?"

Her eyes filled with tears. Johnny set the frying pan on the stove and pulled her out of the kitchen chair and into his arms. "Scary when it finally becomes real, isn't it?" He stroked her back. He felt her head nod against his chest. Then she went rigid and pushed against him. "What?"

"We have bigger problems." She took two retreating steps. "The when, where and how."

"Pardon me?"

"I don't want some magical date etched into my mind reminding me of the day we conceived our baby. Where are we actually going to have sex? Not my bed. I'm not going to remember us every time I crawl beneath the covers. Not your bed either. I don't want you thinking about me when you go to sleep."

Good thing she wasn't in his head. He'd already taken her to his bed hundreds of times. In his dreams. "The where won't matter. You and I both know we'll never forget."

"As for the when, I'm ready when you are." Krissy put her hands on her hips. "Actually, I should rephrase that. I'll be ready after you make breakfast and we eat. If we can decide where, then we can do it tonight. We just need to think of sex as the first step in a series of steps to reach the desired conclusion of having a baby."

As if he could just forget he'd be making love while Krissy only thought of their being together as a means to an end. "At least we don't need to discuss the how."

"Actually, I think we do."

Johnny nearly crushed the egg he was holding in his hand instead of cracking it into the frying pan. He looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. Krissy sat at the table again with a serious look on her face, not a trace of humor in the straight line of her mouth. "I'm capable."

She rolled her eyes. "We both know what happens in relationships when one falls hard and not the other. That can't happen to us. So we need rules about the how." She held up one finger. "No kissing. That includes oral. I'm not sucking your dick."

"What if I need help getting an erection? You won't be my fluff girl?"

She pursed her lips. "I'll get you a Viagra."

Her mouth turned up on the left and he weakened. "Okay, let me hear the rest of your rules."

"No caressing. I know you're an ass man. Mine is off limits. No touching outside of what is absolutely necessary. No grabbing hair."

"Are your tits off limits, too?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Laughter rolled from deep within his chest. Unbelievable. His dreams had come true and then morphed into his worst nightmare. He could make love to Krissy, but by god, he wasn't allowed to enjoy it.

"If you make me come, I'll clobber you the minute you get off of me. I don't want you to be good."

Did she read minds now? "I can't control whether it's good or not."

"Yes, you can! Just get on, come, and get off. Hopefully, we'll only have to fuck once."

"Do I get to enjoy myself at all or is that against the rules as well?" Johnny flipped the eggs in the pan, then snatched the bread off the top of the refrigerator. He needed to calm down. Krissy's unrealistic ideal situation was a long way from his.

"Of course." She stood and poured them coffee. "You have to enjoy sex in order to reach orgasm. How else am I going to get pregnant? Coming is ejaculation. I don't suppose you're a premature ejaculator. The faster the better."

Erotic Romance Author
www.KyAnnWaters. com

JohnnyLovesKrissy_w5081_680.jpg picture by KyAnnWaters

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Just released!

Roped and Branded
Copyright KyAnn Waters, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Roped and Branded

by KyAnn Waters

To Purchase http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8280-50-roped-and-branded.aspx

Price $4.45

Southern Texas is in the grips of a heat wave and DaniLee Hunter needs a distraction. The man she wants refuses to see she's a
ll grown up, but the sexy ranch hand Waco is more than willing for an erotic roll in the hay.

Everything in South Texas stings, bites, or prickles...including Cord Stiles. As foreman of the Iron H, he has enough to deal with--including his growing attraction for DaniLee. She's wild and reckless--and impossible to ignore. It's time she's roped and branded...and he's just the man to do it.

The stakes are high in a late night poke-her game. Cord, Dani and Waco lay their cards are on the table. Winner takes all.


"Dani, slow down."

"We can't." DaniLee Hunter chuckled. She wasn't sure of the cowboy's real name because everyone called him Waco. She glanced from his dreamy, moss green eyes to the tempting bulge of his cock beneath the brass buckle cinching the waist of his faded Wranglers. She traced the impression of the rodeo steer on the belt buckle. Waco groaned and his bulge flexed.

Dani grabbed his shirt and yanked. Snaps popped and the fabric parted. She stared, mesmerized by the tough, lean muscle and skin bronzed by wind and sun. She trailed a finger down his sternum and over his corded abdominals. His flesh quivered under her fingertips. Damn, the man was cut.

Ranch work hardened a body, even hers. She'd been called a tomboy since she climbed onto that first paint at four years old. At twenty-three, she was grown up and no longer had the small, lean build of a boy. She insisted she be treated like one of the men, but didn't have to look like one.

Waco grinned, shifted his broad shoulders and shrugged the shirt from his body. "We're playing with fire." His gaze darted to the closed barn door. "If your daddy--"

"Are you afraid to get burned?" She cocked her head to the side and slipped the button of her sleeveless cotton shirt free. "Feel how hot I am." Another button. Her shirt gaped.

Waco's stare dropped from her face to her exposed cleavage and his eyes darkened. "Fuck, Dani, how is a man supposed to keep his head around you?" He grazed a work-rough knuckle across a beaded nipple. Pleasure snaked from tip to clit.

"Oh baby, you aren't." She stepped closer and took Waco's tan cowboy hat from his head. Sweat dampened the chestnut curls at his temples. He wore his hair long enough to run her fingers though, and hold on tight to while she sat on his face and rode his thin mustache.

She laughed as Waco impatiently pushed her into an empty horse stall. Her boots crunched the fresh straw on the dirt floor. The musky scent of horse and hay hung in the air.

He worked his belt loose. "There will be hell to pay if we get caught." His voice held an edge of laughter.

"That's part of the excitement." She arched one eyebrow and smirked. "And you know it isn't gentlemanly to tell a girl she isn't worth a little risk."

"I never professed to be a gentleman."

"Good because I don't want gentle."

He chuckled and jerked the zipper down. "I think you know you're worth a trip through hell." He parted the fly and his cock thrust forward from a thatch of dark springy hair.

"Yeah, I know all about you and your hedonistic ways. As long as it feels good--"

A devilish smile tilted his lips. "And, fuck, that feels good." She held his thick length in both hands and squeezed as he hardened further. Soft, smooth skin stretched tight over solid steel. The large bulbous head darkened to a deep red and pearly liquid seeped from the slit. She stroked him once...twice. Her grip was firm and she slid the skin over his rod.

He leaned his head back against the wood beam between stalls and hissed. "Harder, Dani." She squeezed, but his shaft was like rock. "Damn, your hands are strong."

So was her determination. She squatted into the fresh hay. Waco's dick was long and thick with veins bulging in high relief. A rich, earthy smell clung to his skin. She breathed deep, leaned in and tasted his length from base to tip. She circled the crown with her tongue, then took him between her lips and sucked.

Waco fisted his hands at his sides and thrust his hips toward her face. God, everything about the man was whipcord lean. His muscular thighs bent, giving her a better position to take more of his shaft into her mouth. She hummed in the back of her throat and savored the hard, heated length.

His velvety flesh was salty sweet and pulsed within her mouth. She curled her tongue around the ridge then flicked the tip against the slit. Her left hand wrapped around the back of his thigh and her right twisted gently and pumped his cock. She sucked hard, fist meeting mouth in the middle, making him wet and slick with saliva. She pumped faster, working her mouth up and down the shaft.

The barn door rattled.

"Who's there?" Waco jerked his hips, pulled free of her mouth and spun toward the door.

"It's only the wind." She laughed and fell back onto her butt. "Are you that worried about being caught with me?" She reclined back on her elbows and stretched her legs out in front of her. "We're just having fun."

Waco dropped to the ground beside her. "I happen to like working on the Iron H. Your dad is a good man." He circled her bellybutton with the blunt tip of his finger. Her tummy quivered as he traced a squiggly pattern higher.

"My daddy is at the house." She glanced around the vacant barn. "We're alone." She trailed her fingertips up his forearm, combing the soft, dark hairs with her nails. "It's just you and me."

Waco cupped her breast and rasped his thumb over the taut tip. "Ray isn't the problem--it's your keeper."

"I don't have a keeper," she said as if she meant it.

Waco snorted.

"I don't. Cord Stiles has no say in what I do." She kicked off her boots. "I do who and what I want." And she wanted to do Waco. Dani lifted her hips and shimmied off her worn jeans. Then she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him down into the hay with her. "Less talk, cowboy."

Waco's lips were firm and demanding, but Dani knew what she liked and how she liked it and he wasn't aggressive enough. She spread her thighs and he maneuvered between them, grinding his rigid cock against her mound. With a shift of his hips, he emulated the slow thrusting of long, deep strokes. Only she still wore her thong. The string was soaked and rubbing against her sensitive clit.

She opened her mouth and glided her tongue along his. Sucking, nibbling and tasting fresh air and raw man. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her tummy fluttered. The delicious cock riding between her legs had her hotter than the Texas sun at high noon.

DaniLee wrapped her arms around his tapered torso and her legs around his lean hips. He groaned and plunged his hot, wet tongue deep into her mouth. Dani ate at his lips, but was growing tired of foreplay. She wanted to ride in his rodeo--wanted Waco to ride her hard and fast. Her pussy clenched, needing to be crammed full of his cock. She didn't want soft and gentle, but wanted on her hands and knees while he drove his dick into her cunt and thoroughly fucked her from behind.

"What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck off her!"

"Holy shit!" Waco leapt off, jerked up his pants, nearly zipping off his beautiful erection. Now that would have been a damn shame.

"Cord! Don't you knock?" Dani flopped back into the hay and draped one arm over her closed eyes.

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Erotic Romance Author

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

New Release from Ellora's Cave

Dark Man: Blood Slaves Book 3

Copyright © KyAnn Waters, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Vance is determined to discover the secrets hidden in The Catacombs, an exclusive all-male fetish club. Someone there was the last person to see his ex-lover alive and he intends seek revenge for the brutal murder. Once in, he meets Tac, the owner of the club. He’s secretive and hot as hell. The BDSM sex is unlike anything Vance has experienced. Tac is slipping under his skin, becoming an obsession, and keeping him from the truth.

Nothing can endanger the vampires’ existence. Theron, known in the club as Tac, will destroy any who try. He is dominant and dangerous—in total control of his world. He lives only for sex and blood. He has never been emotionally involved with anyone. Now, a human has slipped into his life and under his skin, making him want more than meaningless sex with blood slaves. But Theron will never allow a mere mortal to bring him to his knees.

Note: This book contains scenes of smoking-hot men engaged in multiple-partner sex and bondage.


Vise-like pressure gripped his chest. His gut clenched and his cock throbbed. Sweat beaded on his brow and upper lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swallowed hard. Muscles, strained from anticipation, burned like fire. Heat chased along every nerve into his groin and pooled in his heavy balls. Fantasy clashed with reality. The Catacombs. Vance Autry hadn't really known what to expect. He'd only known he'd had to get in.

"What do you want?" The words broke through the haze of lust swirling in his mind. What did he want? Since meeting Tac, that's what he'd been asking himself.

Tac palmed his ass. A blatant show of possession. There was a time he'd have gone off. He wasn't anyone's boy toy. He gave a mental snort. Apparently, that wasn't true. He glanced at Tac. He was devilishly handsome. Tall and lengthy but built. Lean muscles carved his form. Dark hair framed his angular face and draped past his broad shoulders in silken waves. Long lashes fringed amber eyes glinting with something intensely dangerous. Eyes to drown in. Eyes that saw too deeply--into the soul. Tac was dangerous because he was too sexy, too appealing, and Vance could feel himself being slowly sucked into Tac's world.

"A drink," he said in response to the question. Only he was sure it wasn't the answer Tac was looking for. He wanted to know who they were going to fuck first.

Tac chuckled. "If getting you liquored up will let me have my way with you, I'll pour the alcohol myself." The statement surprised Vance. Tac didn't drink and had seemed to appreciate that Vance didn't either.

"Liquid motivation isn't required. Just a soda." Vance didn't drink alcohol because he didn't want his senses dulled. He needed to be in complete control of his faculties. He had to be ready for the unexpected.

Tac went for the cola and Vance stood at the perimeter of the Pit. A room with no limits and few rules. Tac didn't submit. He dominated. He fucked like a machine. At least, that was the conclusion Vance had come to in the few weeks he'd known Tac. It also brought about the hard reality that their involvement was temporary.

Temporary was fine. Tac was a means to an end.

Returning a few minutes later, Tac wrapped an arm around him with a soda in his hand. Positioned behind him, he pressed in close, riding the seam of Vance's ass with his thick, solid cock.

"Have a drink, because I've arranged our entertainment for the evening."

Vance's mouth went suddenly dry and his cock head grew moist. "What's his name?" He took the glass from Tac's fingers and brought it to his lips.

"No names."

In the Pit, with Tac, even if the players changed, the game was consistent. Always, at the end of the night, Vance came to the same conclusion--he and Tac were together, and with each encounter they shared, Tac slipped a little more under his skin. Becoming involved--emotionally involved--made for an impossible situation.

Vance tried to convince himself that this wasn't his scene. He had a bigger purpose for his behavior. Vance played in the Pit for Tac--because he needed him. Needed information. Vance was only in The Catacombs because he had to be. This was where he'd find the last man who'd seen Seth alive.

Deep down, where he kept his dirty little secret, he admitted he wanted Tac, wanted the club, the hot men and hot sex. He wanted to be fucked to the point of exhaustion. He was Tac's boy toy.

When he'd heard of the club, he hadn't known what to expect. Yet, Seth had been unable to get him in. Membership in the exclusive club wasn't like buying a Sam's Club membership. Not everyone was welcome. At first, Vance hadn't cared. Even though he'd moved on after he and Seth split, they'd remained friends. Good friends. Vance owed it to Seth to find out what had transpired. Vance had a damn good idea that whatever had happened to his friend had begun here, in the club, and ended with his mutilated body found tossed like trash in a back alley.

Vance had found a way into the club. A New Year's Eve house party had secured his invitation. He'd never have believed he'd encounter men, considered to be the influential echelon of Denver, who were members of The Catacombs. He'd never expected to meet someone like Tac. The man had become his obsession. He only hoped he wasn't connected to the individual responsible for Seth's death.

For the past eight weeks, he'd simply allowed Tac to pull him deeper into this deviant underground world of men. At least, that was what he'd believed he'd find in a secret fetish club. He hadn't realized that he would feel as though he belonged here too. However, for now, that didn't matter. He needed information from Tac.

Tac moved into the Pit and Vance quickly set his drink on a table then followed. With every step, he scanned the crowd--pulsing with sexual energy beneath dull ambient light. Leather, chains, loincloths and flesh. The Catacombs was a fetish club for patrons with a predilection for the extreme. But the Pit--the Pit was a fuck fest and Tac was the ringleader as well as the owner of the club.

Tac abruptly stopped and turned. Vance started. Before he could utter a word, Tac grasped the sides of his head and slammed his lips onto Vance's. He parted his lips and the intoxicating taste of Tac filled his mouth. Tac's tongue invaded, tried to conquer. Vance valiantly parried his thrust of taste and retreat. Tongues glided together, teeth clinked. If he wanted rough, he'd give him rough. Vance grasped Tac at the hips and crushed their groins together.

"Is this what you want?" Vance backed Tac against the wall. Lust unfurled in his gut, raged hot through his system. His balls tingled and his cock hardened. Whenever Tac touched him, responsibility and obligations slipped away. He was here for a purpose but when Tac rubbed their cocks together Vance's only purpose was to please and be pleased. Tac was toxic and Vance wanted more.

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Thursday, February 04, 2010

Sharing an excerpt from a fellow erotic writer.

Anita Philmar's

Banished Scoundrel

Known scoundrel Jack Avery must earn the queen's forgiveness by rescuing her missing daughter from the human world. His sources reveal the Princess Noelani is being held by a powerful man who likes a good game of chance. So with twenty borrowed pieces of gold Jack enters the high-stakes game. Only the lady he encounters is no princess. This pretty Kitty makes him want to hear her purr.

Under a memory spell, Kitty recalls nothing before the governor bought her from her parents and offered her protection from those he claims would kill her kind. So what if, in order to control her, he forces Kitty to morph then deprives her of sexual release after transformation. But the crafty card player she is assigned to “entertain” reveals himself as a kindred spirit—a shape shifter—and unravels the lie she’s been forced to live.

Together Jack and Kitty risk it all, for the stakes are high and the prize is worth it...freedom, forgiveness, love.

Purchase at

Excerpt -
“Have you dropped off your stipend for the game tomorrow?” She laid her finely, manicured hand on his arm. The dainty touch sent sparks of awareness through him, and his cock swelled. “The governor likes to put all the money in his strongbox for safekeeping before the party begins.”

Jack reined in his desire and reminded himself of his primary objective—to transport the lady back to Ardenia.

However, he liked Sloan’s clever rule. If a man didn’t contribute the required gold coins to the game, the governor shouldn’t waste resources entertaining him. “No, I can’t say that I have. I arrived just a few moments ago.”

“Then let me show you to the study, and I’ll fetch you a drink.” She touched his arm again and stepped into the foyer.

He bowed his head slightly and played the unfamiliar part of a refined gentleman. “And you are?”

She fluttered her hand over her face and brushed a wisp of light brown hair from her brow. “The governor calls me Kitty. It’d probably be best if you did, too.”

“What an alluring name? It makes me think of a cat with its lips covered by a luscious coat of cream.” Jack stared at Kitty’s mouth, and his tongue tingled at the idea of tasting her rich, flavorful lust.

She giggled and wove her hand through the crook in his arm. The soft swell of her breast bumped against his arm. “Oh, you’re naughty, but I love the alluring image.”

“Then, I hope you’ll let me have a taste later.” He didn’t crowd her but allowed her to step back. She led him across the entranceway to a door on the other side.

Remember she’s a princess.

Banished Scoundrel

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down
Copyright © KyAnn Waters, 2010
All Rights Reserved, The Wild Rose Press
Erotic, Western Contemporary
e-book novella $2.50
rated double rose

To Purchase

A big truck rolled into town. The cowboy wore a black Stetson. Tristan McKay. He knows how to tie her up, but she refuses to be the woman to tie him down.

Jaycee Craven hasn't had hot, tie-me-up sex since Tristan left town. Okay, so six weeks ago she'd told him to go to hell. Now he's back in her one-horse town for the rodeo, only she's the one who's about to get more than an 8-second ride.

Tristan McKay walked away, but he never had any intention of staying gone. Jaycee's temper flares with the same intensity as her arousal and he's been burned by both. Trouble is--he likes playing with fire.


Tristan opened the driver door, walked around the front of the vehicle, and opened her door. He put his hand on her left thigh and spun her around on the leather seat. Her skin was smooth and soft. His cock thickened with desire and swelled into the fly of his jeans. He relished the tortuous heat pooling in his balls and the tingle at the base of his spine. She wanted his truck? Fine. He wanted her.


He cut her off by slanting his lips over hers. He touched her silken lips with his tongue, silently demanding her surrender to what he knew still boiled between them. A fierce intensity that neither had ever wanted to fight--not until he’d pushed her too far.

Her lips parted and he slicked past her teeth. Tongue rubbed against tongue. He growled and spread her thighs with his hips. Reaching up, he tugged the elastic, freeing her hair to fall around her shoulders.

Her fingers clutched his shirt. His abdominals quivered. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips. Linking her feet, she dug her heels into his ass and urged him closer. Heat raced through his body. He dropped the keys to the floor mat then grasped her buttocks and lifted her hard against his groin. Her thighs spread wider.

Tristan ate at her mouth, trailed a hand higher, feeling each rib as he trekked toward her breast. When he finally cupped the soft mound, she whimpered and arched into his hand. Her taut nipple prodded into his palm. He pinched and rolled the beaded peak through her shirt. It wasn’t enough.

He backed away and tugged her tank top up and off. "Ah hell, Jaycee."

Damn, she was pretty. Rosy, nickel-sized nipples centered on gently slopping breasts. They were milky white against the tanned contours of her arms and shoulders. He recalled how sensitive and sweet she was. He bent and pulled one delicious tip into his mouth, slathering her with moist kisses. She moaned and cupped the side of his head.

"I hate you," she whispered.

Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down