Monday, July 25, 2011


Double Bang!
I neglected to tell you about the new story I have with Tarah Scott. Double Banghttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif released with the Wild Rose Press.

http://www.wilderroses.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=823

Sara Martin has a problem. And it’s not the attraction she has for her co-worker Devon Curran…or the lust she feels for her sexy neighbor, Rigg. Yes, those are problems. But she has bigger issues. There’s been a security breach in the impenetrable computer system at work. Suddenly Devon doesn’t look happy. And that is a gun in his pocket!

Devon is working undercover…and Sara is about to blow his case. He’d rather she blow him. She’s as smart as she is beautiful. But he’s lied to protect her. What will she do when she discovers he works with a partner? Tonight, they are going to keep her close…very close…in their protective custody.




This title contains: explicit language, anal sex, and ménage a trios (m/f/m).



Adult Excerpt (contains graphic language):

Fear lanced through her. Were they going to leave her? She searched Devon’s face. “Do you have to go, too? I mean, you’re partners, right? Do you do everything together?”

Devon stared hard at Rigg, and the tension in the room thickened. “We haven’t done everything together.”

It didn’t take a folder of evidence to know they were talking about more than the investigation. The fear and anger at her forced confinement morphed into a simmering heat deep in her core.

Devon’s cell rang, shattering the moment. “Excuse me.” Devon stood and glanced at the display screen. “It’s our contact.” He strode across the room, slid open the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, and stepped outside. His quietly whispered words cut off when the door slid shut.

Rigg rested a hand on her thigh. “We never meant to hurt you.”

She glanced at his hand, then lifted half-lowered lashes and stared into the dark smoldering depths of Rigg’s obsidian eyes. “Will you hurt me now?”

“No, but I won’t pretend not to want you.” His fingertips scorched a trail higher.

Sara abruptly stood and crossed to the sliding glass door “What about Devon?” The man on her mind leaned against the railing, speaking into his cell phone. He smiled when he saw her then his gaze shifted over her shoulder and the easy smile hardened.

The lights dimmed, only a small lamp at the table illuminated near where she stood. A tingle shivered along her spine. Warm breath caressed the nape of her neck. Rigg pressed in close…and from the other side of glass and a sheer curtain, Devon watched.

“I don’t want the same thing as Devon.”

“And what do you think he wants?” Her heart pounded as Rigg’s palms rested on her hips and his chest pressed against her back.

“You.”

She clung to the simple word. How much of her? Tonight? “What about tomorrow when the investigation is over? What will you want?”

“I’m partnered up with Devon for this assignment, but tomorrow I could be in a meth ring or bringing down a drug cartel. You wouldn’t want to know me then. I’m not stable like Devon.” His lips brushed her shoulder and blood whooshed through her ears. “Devon’s looking for more.” Rigg nestled his hard cock against her ass. “But I still want to fuck you.”

Monday, April 18, 2011

The Wild Rose Press turns 5!

Join me at
www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses
for a week of celebration.
April 27 - May 1 2011

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Miranda's Rights
KyAnn Waters
2.50
BDSM

Miranda's Rights

To Purchase


She needs pain…she needs punishment…she needs him.

Jase Ralston gets hot under his very blue collar just thinking about his friend and neighbor, Miranda Carlucci. Yet she can’t possibly be interested—not when she could have champagne, caviar and her pick of Vegas high rollers.

The bruises change everything. She denies she’s in an abusive relationship, but his cop instincts won’t let him rest until he finds out the truth. When he follows her to a BDSM club and finds her writhing under a flogger’s stinging kiss, his Dom instincts kick in.

Jase takes command of the scene—and Miranda—at Club Creed. This is what she’s always wanted. Pleasure, pain…and rough-around-the-edges Jase. Yet after his domination transports her to a level of subspace she’s never known, he leaves her—unwilling to continue the scene.

Confusion gives way to hurt…then anger. He’s claimed her and Miranda wants more. Even if it means confronting Jase and making demands of her own.


Product Warnings
This submissive woman has the right to be silent. Anything she says could result in being tied up, flogged, and spanked. Law enforcement has never been hotter.

Copyright © 2011 KyAnn Waters
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Jase acknowledged he wasn’t in Miranda’s league—not for more than friendship. He was blue-collar and hardworking. Miranda deserved diamonds and caviar. They might live in the same apartment complex, spend time together watching television and even grab dinner together several times a week, but those weren’t dates. Miranda dated up. Her work behind the scenes in the casino industry exposed her to the wealthy, powerful men of Vegas. Upscale scourge. Jase had a gut feeling that her latest guy wasn’t treating her well.

Jase was a Dom. He liked control, but he’d never abuse a woman. Lately he wasn’t sure if someone was hurting her, demeaning her—forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do. That was the problem. She wouldn’t open up to him about her late nights. His thoughts raced in a thousand different directions. Only one conclusion made sense. She didn’t want Jase to know.

Across the hall, a key worked into a lock. Jase stomped across the floor and swung the door open.

“Jase!” Miranda sucked in a sharp inhale, slapped a hand over her heart and spun in his direction. “You scared me.”

Perhaps he should have put on a shirt. Her gaze traveled his torso, igniting small fires over his flesh. She lingered on the open snap of his jeans riding low on his hips and trekked lower to his bare feet.

“And put on some clothes. If Ms. Perry in 3D sees you, you’ll have a stalker on your hands. She drools at anything with a nice body, especially a nice tight butt and—” Her gaze locked on his groin. “Well, and the right anatomy. If she gets her inch-long dragon-lady nails into your back, you’ll need surgery to remove her.”

“It’s close to four a.m. No one else is awake.”

She snorted. “This is Vegas. No one sleeps.”

“Where have you been?” In the span of a heartbeat, he glanced over her from her tousled hair to her askew clothing. The buttons on her blouse weren’t aligned and her stockings were torn. “What the hell happened?” Her sexy lips, normally pouty and pink, were slightly swollen. Dark circles shadowed her red-rimmed eyes.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she whispered. “I’m fine now, Detective. It’s late. You should be in bed.” Her lips curled into a smile.

“You aren’t fine.” His hands balled into fists. This craziness had gone on long enough. He couldn’t stand by and watch her self-destruct. He took a step back. “Get in here.”

Her head cocked to the side. “Jase, I’m tired.” She turned back toward her door and wiggled the key until it turned and the lock popped. “I had a rough night, but really. I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

She glanced at him and her tired eyes widened.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m sure whatever scolding you’re going to give me can wait until morning.”

“Now.”

“Okay.” Her hand paused on the knob without turning the handle. Her head bowed and her shoulders visibly trembled. She was petite, not more than five-foot-five. Jase had eight inches on her and outweighed her by eighty pounds. He could force her into his apartment. But he wouldn’t have to. The Dom in him stirred at her willingness to heed his words. Whether she’d ever acknowledge it, Miranda had submissive tendencies. He tamped down the small thrill and focused on the anger coiling in his gut instead.

“But I’m tired and don’t want to talk.” Miranda crossed the hall and entered his living room. “I just want to crawl into bed and sleep.” She clasped her hands in front of her, a small purse clutched in her fingers. The door closed with a thud and she jumped.

“What is going on with you?”

“Nothing. I went out.” She stood in his living room, glancing at his couch, the window, anything but his face. Normally her bubbly personality had him laughing. At the moment, she seemed almost afraid. He had an infuriating idea of why. The thought of someone hurting her… He growled and jammed his hands into his pockets. He had the mounting need to slam his fist into the wall, scour the city for the piece of shit and show him a little payback. Any bastard who could hurt a woman deserved his ass beat.

Jase understood BDSM. Power and dominance went hand in hand with trust and devotion. He understood the high from pain play. He’d been in the scene long enough to know that the glimmer in Miranda’s blue eyes wasn’t from being taken to the brink and pushed over the edge. She’d been broken, and that wasn’t willing submission. “What has he done to you?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Who? Christ, who do you think?” He stormed across the room and grasped her wrist.

She winced and tried to pull away. “Don’t.”

“Who is doing this to you?” He jerked back her sleeves. Angry red welts banded her delicate wrists. Deep purple and maroon bruises crisscrossed her porcelain flesh. Higher on her arm, four equally spaced marks bore the impression of someone squeezing her, restraining her. “Miranda, I see it all the time. I recognize an abused woman.”

“I’m not being abused!” She jerked her arm, yanking her wrist from his hands.

“That’s more than rough sex.”

“I’m not having sex either,” she snapped.

“And I’m not stupid. Are you going to tell me you did that—” he pointed to her wrists, “—to yourself?”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m ready to go ballistic.” He’d kill the bastard who put his hands on her. “I can help you.” He lowered his voice. “Please, let me take care of this, let me take care of you.”


Friday, March 25, 2011

Going Down Hard
KyAnn Waters
m/m/m Cowboy Menage
2.00

To purchase

Going Down Hard

Love sucks. Relationships suck. But Hale Reston loved Jesse Whitfield anyway—until he left without saying goodbye and without an explanation. Hale was going down…going down hard. Braden Owens picked him up and showed him loving someone doesn’t have to hurt. Just as Hale has convinced himself what he has with Braden is just sex, Jesse returns and Hale must accept that his emotions run deep, but not just for Braden. He’s still in love with Jesse, too.


This title contains: explicit language and ménage a trios (m/m/m).

Rosette (35 pages)


Excerpt:

Hale couldn’t turn away from the intensity in Jesse’s brown eyes. Those lashes and the dimples in his clean-shaven face. Sharp angles carved his square jaw. In the months he’d been gone, he’d gotten his hair cut. Now short on the sides and longer on the top, Jesse had lost the rancher edge and taken on a city sophistication. Damn, but it looked good on him.

Jesse leaned in closer. “I’m not walking away from us.”

The subtle scent of Jesse’s cologne reminded Hale of the intimate moments he’d spent kissing Jesse, of touching him and rubbing against him until they’d both come in their jeans. The bittersweet memories were more than Hale wanted to remember. “You already did.”

The barn door swung open, flooding the area with bright sunlight. Cowboy hat, worn jeans hugging slim hips, long legs and cowboy boots. Hale swallowed hard. Braden always had the same affect on him. As beautiful as Jesse was, Braden was rough and rugged. Jesse carried the scent of fine cologne…Braden smelled like sweat and man. He was hard, lean and tough as nails. And he wanted Hale.

“Hey, stranger,” he said to Jesse as he came into the barn, his determined gait eating up the distance between them. Braden’s friendly smile stretched across his tanned face, and his blue eyes sent heat into Hale’s groin. These were the two men he wanted, but only one could he have. Braden. And he needed him.

“You can get out now,” he said to Jesse.

Braden slapped Jesse on the shoulder. “You look good.”

“Fuck you,” Jesse spat and stormed out of the barn.

****

Hale’s gut clenched as the barn door slapped the wall hard, bounced back, then swung on its hinges.

Braden leaned against the beam and cocked an eyebrow. “So much for a quiet Sunday morning. Do I need to ask how it feels to have him back home?”

Hale didn’t want to feel anything at all, but he did. Seeing Jesse again hurt like hell. He knew it would because to see him was to want him. Nothing had changed. Except that this time, Hale had turned Jesse away. “I couldn’t care less.”

“You’re full of shit.” Braden tossed off his hat and closed in tight, pushing Hale against the stall wall.

Hale couldn’t speak. Desire coiled in his gut and threatened to snap. Need of Braden and want of Jesse. Braden’s whiskered jaw rasped against his cheek as Braden kissed his neck with his hot, wet mouth.

“I know you too well.” Braden nipped at Hale’s mouth. Fine lines creased the corner of his blue eyes. Braden was a few years older than Hale, but thirty looked good on him. Bronzed by the wind and sun. Hard from work. And he was experienced—skilled in everything from ranching to sex. “You do care.”

He slammed his lips onto Hale’s. Firm and demanding. Together their passion was explosive, consuming, and mutual. But more than that, Braden did know Hale. When Hale was going down—going down hard—Braden was there. He watched Hale crash…then picked him up.



Friday, February 25, 2011

Up Close and Personal
Available Now!


Up Close & Personal

Up Close and Personal
The Wilder Roses
Gay erotic contemporary
To Purchase
2.00

No way is Nate Sheppard attending the office celebration to kiss his new boss's ass. He's already been there and done that. And it literally screwed him out of a promotion. Now he's done with interoffice affairs. Especially when the only man he truly wants is off limits.

Graham Eddins knows Nate isn't opposed to office romances, but Nate's been screwing the wrong men. Until now Graham hasn't been willing to risk their friendship. However, if he wants more, he's going to have to offer Nate a new position...one that's up close and personal.

This title contains: explicit language, anal sex and m/m.


Excerpt:

Graham leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I never pegged you for a player." His gaze sizzled over Nate, over his chest, along his stomach and paused on the fly of Nate's trousers.

"I'm not a player."

"Then a slut."

"I can live with slut. I like sex." He'd like to have sex with someone he cared about, but he wasn't sure he was ready to care about anyone...except Graham. "But, unlike Joe, I never lied." Nate spun away. His cock strained against the fabric, the bulge becoming more defined. "I never pretended to want more from him. I don't do serious." Because of the barely banked heat he felt for Graham. Their friendship fed his need for everything but sex.

"Bullshit." Graham grabbed his arm and turned him back around. They stood together, nearly touching. Nate could see Graham's pulse pounding in the strong column of his neck, the flush of color in his cheeks, and feel the warmth of Graham's breath against his face. His lips looked soft, soft enough to kiss. Graham had mesmerizing eyes to drown in, to forget about everything but seeing those smoky irises darken with passion. "You're the most serious man I know."

"Graham," he whispered, afraid to say more, afraid to reveal too much about the rioting sensations firing through him. Kiss him. Touch him. Tell him how you feel.

"You're driven by your job, but not enough to fuck for a promotion." Graham rested his hand on Nate's hip.

Breath froze in Nate's lungs, his chest tightened, and his gut clenched. He found enough voice to whisper, "No."

Graham's fingertips hesitantly inched higher, onto Nate's waist. "What will you fuck for?"

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Beautiful Storm - Just released from Ellora's Cave!

0
Beautiful Storm
Erotic Contemporary
Ellora's Cave
To Purchase
$1.49


Adrian Beck lost everything, including his passion for designing beautiful buildings, after 9/11. Self-imposed exile on Long Caye Island gives him the sanctuary he needs to live a simple, uncomplicated life.

Isabelle Clemet, of Clemet Hotels, is ready to rebuild after Katrina. She wants the best to design her new project on the coast in Biloxi, Mississippi. She wants Adrian.

Can an erotic late-night encounter on a secluded beach help a lonely architect rediscover his lost passion?

Excerpt:


"No. My first time to Belize Island. It's beautiful."

"So are you."

She smiled and dipped her head.

"It's late for a swim."

"I'm restless. The moon is full." She glanced into the sky then returned her gaze to his. "I didn't expect to see anyone." She kept her legs tucked beneath her and his shirt covered most of her nudity. "I should've worn a suit."

He grazed a finger over the fabric. "I'm glad you didn't. And I'm the only one who saw you. We're alone." With each beat of his heart, he felt the pull to crush her flush against him and kiss her trembling lips. "This is a private beach."

"Then we're both trespassing." Her whispered words hinted at seduction.

"I don't kiss and tell."

"Good."

He took her word as consent. He cupped her cheek and brushed his lips over hers. A soft whimper slipped from her. With a heated touch, she melted against him. Twining her arms around his neck, she clung to his shoulders. Adrian flicked his tongue against her lips. Her mouth opened and he relished in the cool fresh taste of her. He growled, parting the fabric and touching her. Smooth bronzed skin fluttered beneath his fingertips. This was crazy. Beautiful women didn't materialize from the sea, like an erotic dream come to life and make love on the beach.

He gripped her tighter, trailing his palm to her hip. She was warm, soft and pliant in his arms. Trekking higher, he widened his hands, feeling each of her ribs. Her breath was shallow and her pulse raced in the same frenzied rhythm as his.

Isabelle trembled. Strong hands warmed her chilled flesh and erotic heat scorched her from the inside out. Perhaps it had been crazy to slip into the soothing Caribbean waters for a midnight swim, but she was wound too tight and had to release some of the pent-up energy stressing her out. So much responsibility rested on her shoulders.

Perhaps the moon had drawn her to this distant shore. Or the enchanting tropical waters. Or the magic of this man.

The island dream kissed her with passion. She ached to feel the desire of a man who was interested in her—the woman. Oh, and with each wondrous glide of his tongue, she slipped a little more under his spell. She wanted more than kisses. Cream simmered in her pussy, hot and waiting for this man to fill her. She shouldn't be here. But who would know? His lips were tempting, his taste intoxicating. The moon, the ocean, the man all contributing to the madness in her mind.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Mercy of the Dragon - New GBLT in the Garden

I have been meaning to tell you about my latest releases in the Wilder Garden. Several months ago, my editor came to me because she knew I had a love of m/m romance. The Wild Rose Press was opening its Scarlet Rose line to gay erotic romance and would I be interested in writing a few stories to help get the genre launched. Well, absolutely. I actually had one complete, but I hadn't decided where to submit it. So the opportunity couldn't have come at a better time for Mercy of the Dragon.

Mercy of the Dragon released on Jan 28 to mixed reviews but a common thread was there. it's hot m/m shape-shifter romance. The one complaint is that the story is too short and they want more. That's a complaint I love. Nothing is more validating than to have someone say they wanted to read more about characters I've created.

Up Close and Personal is releasing and next month you'll meet three cowboys in Going Down Hard.

I love the tumble of two men falling in love so I'm especially proud to see this genre come to the garden.

Thank you to my wonderful editor, Diana, for asking me to bring these three short stories to the Wilder side of the garden.


Mercy of the Dragon
Gay BDSM Fantasy shape-shifter
The Wilder Roses
To Purchase
2.00


Ja'darien, slayer of Dracs, will stop at nothing to banish his deviant desire for the dragons. He won't rest until he rids the world of the beasts. On the edge of a ravine, he waits for his prey.

Kerkira, a winged dragon, hunts the slayer. Yet, when given the chance, he can't kill his enemy. The man is his mate. However, because of Ja'darien's sins against the Dracs, Kerkira vows the slayer's submission will not be pleasant.

The bond of mating is more intense than either is prepared for. Will Kerkira forgive him because Ja'darien is at the mercy of the dragon?


This title contains: explicit language, anal sex, bondage,
BDSM, and m/m.


Excerpt:

Kerkira approached the bedding. The slayer, naked and bound with cord to his pallet, continued to sleep. Kerkira swallowed hard. Ja'darien was beautiful in repose. His perfect form was seemingly at peace. His full lips softened to a half smile. High brows arched over expressive eyes.

On the ridge above the ravine, those emerald eyes had revealed more than fear and hatred. Passion and lust. Even if Kerkira hadn't scented the sweetness of his essence, he'd felt the heat radiating off Ja'darien. Ja'darien's engorged cock had pressed against his tunic. The arousing fluids dampened the protective cloth and sent shards of pleasure unfurling within Kerkira's dragon—awakening the man.

"How do I make you understand?" he whispered to the sleeping slayer. If only Ja'darien had realized he'd destroyed his destiny with his rage against dragons.

Kerkira had stripped him of clothes upon arriving at his lair. His mate was for his pleasure and the need to roam hand, mouth and cock over the muscular perfection was increasing with each passing moment. Instinct to mate, to claim him—to mark him—was overwhelming. But so was the need to discipline the slayer, to punish him with painful pleasure.

As he had tied the intricate knots in the rope, binding Ja'darien to the bed, Kerkira's clawed hands had trembled.

"You will never slaughter another Drac," Kerkira vowed. Ja'darien's destiny was to serve and Kerkira would see to his instruction. "For the pain and death you've rained upon my species, your submission to me will be total and complete." His eyes narrowed as he visualized a submissive Ja'darien accepting Kerkira's power and learning to take pleasure in punishment. Ja'darien had been fighting against his true nature. A dragon's mate was always submissive. "However, it may not always be pleasant."