Chroma Agents Are Not To Be Trifled With ...

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BLURB:

Spectrum, 1

As a Chroma agent, one of the elite operatives for the Spectrum Intelligence Agency, Jonah Gray was skilled enough to handle most anything that came his way. If not, Jonah knew he could always rely on his handler, the clever Mr. Fox, to pull him through. Drawn to the seductive voice and commanding strength of the man on the other end of the line, Jonah wavers between his attraction to his handler and the knowledge that handlers and operatives are never supposed to meet. 

Then a mission goes horribly wrong and Jonah finds himself on the wrong end of a kill order. With Jonah on the run, both handler and operative are desperate to finally meet so they can face this new threat head on. Together they struggle to discover who wants Jonah dead while they finally take the opportunity to embrace the passion that has always simmered between them.

EXCERPT:

“Are your eyes closed?”  Silas asked him quieter than before, softer and gentler.

“Yes Sir.”  Jonah felt vulnerable in that moment, in a way he thought he’d left behind a long time ago.  To distract himself a bit he let his hands come down to rest on his stomach, let his fingers slide gently over the skin there, but no lower.  He didn’t have permission for that yet, after all.

“I’ve got you,” Silas promised almost as if he could tell what Jonah was feeling without even being able to see him. “You’re safe with me remember?  You can relax and trust me Jonah.  You can trust me to keep you safe, to tell you what to do.  You can trust me with all of that.  With all of you.”      

“I know.  I do.”  Jonah fought back the swell of emotions in his chest as the mixture of devotion and affection that he always felt towards Silas threatened to burst free.  Slowly, deliberately, he inhaled again.  Exhaled.  Inhaled, exhaled, repeated it until he felt himself even out, felt himself center.

“Good.”  Silas said it roughly, voice ragged in a way that let Jonah know just how much his admittance meant to Silas.  “I wish I could see you right now.  You’re gorgeous Jonah, you know that don’t you?  I bet you’re beautiful the way you are right now, laid back on that bed with your eyes closed, cock hard and body open.  I bet you’re perfect.  I’ve always thought you would be.  Ever since the first time I saw you.”

Jonah’s eyes flew open in stunned surprise before he slammed them shut again.  Silas’s voice was ragged but honest, deep and thick with that hot, honey drawl that Jonah loved so much.

“You’ve seen me?”  The thought that Silas had seen him, knew what he looked like, and so obviously approved, made Jonah feel slightly giddy with a mixture of pride and relief.

“Oh yes.”  Silas sounded amused for a moment then.  “I’ve seen you many times Jonah.  I am your handler after all.  I’ve read your file, seen videos.  Sometimes I watch you on the security cameras on missions.  You’re a thing of beauty, Jonah.  All lethal grace and power that draws the eye.  Even when you’re off mission, even when you’re wandering around whatever city or town you decide to spend your time in, you’re still fascinating.  Captivating.”

“And do I?”  Jonah couldn’t help but ask.  He needed to know, burned to know for certain whether or not the fascination he felt was mutual.  “Do I captivate you?”

“Completely,” Silas admitted quietly and with that sort of brutal honesty in his voice that Jonah adored.

Nothing's more important than Finding Home!

I'm pleased to be back with my newest story Finding Home.

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BLURB:

Left adrift after escaping from an abusive relationship has left Salem Rooks with little in the way of personal connections in his life.  So when Salem bumps into an attractive stranger on his way to work one morning he isn’t expecting it to lead anywhere.  He certainly isn’t expecting it to change his life.

Wyatt Pendleton is handsome, sweet natured, and homeless.  Drawn to the quiet strength Wyatt exudes, Salem finds himself pulled back to the man’s side time and time again.  Working through their differences is a challenge, as is the ever looming shadow of Salem’s abusive ex.  Despite that, Salem finds that he and Wyatt are both willing to fight to protect the home that they’ve found in each other.

EXCERPT:

He wanted Wyatt fiercely in that instance and his hands moved down of their own accord to pluck at the waistband of Wyatt’s pants.  He was all set to tug at it, to finally see what Wyatt’s cock looked like when one of Wyatt’s hands suddenly wrapped around his fingers and tugged them away.  Startled, Salem pulled back far enough to look Wyatt in the face.

Wyatt was flushed, his cheeks red above the dark line of his beard, his lips kiss swollen and his eyes bright with want.  Salem’s own face felt hot, the skin of his cheeks and around his mouth rubbed tender by Wyatt’s beard.  He leaned forward to kiss Wyatt again, but to his surprise and slight hurt Wyatt shook his head slowly.  Salem sat frozen as Wyatt raised a hand up to slowly, carefully, cup his jaw in the warmth of his palm instead in a gesture that had quickly grown familiar between the two of them.

“We can’t, Salem.  Not now, not just yet.”  Wyatt’s voice was a deep, throaty rasp that made Salem’s stomach flutter for a brief second before he focused on what had been said.

“Why not?”  Salem cleared his throat and did his best to ignore the huskiness of his own voice as doubt crept up on him suddenly.  It was enough to break through the passionate haze that had fallen over him.  “Do you not want me?”  Salem shifted nervously where he was pressed against Wyatt’s body as he waited for the answer.  He was sure Wyatt did want him, but he still felt compelled to ask.  He could feel the line of his cock pressed against his own hip, a thick hot weight that made Salem want to sigh in anticipation, but it suddenly wasn’t proof enough.  He’d been wrong about so much in the past that Salem needed the reassurance.


“I want you.”  Wyatt replied instantly before he leaned back down into Salem’s space to nip and suck at his earlobe.  Salem shuddered.  “I’ve wanted you for weeks now.  I’ve imagined being with you, in you, a hundred times.  I’d daydream about kissing you, about how you’d taste, what you’d feel like.  Wanting’s not the issue, Salem.”

London Saint James Is Back!

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Blurb:

They fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human world... 

Petúr always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland. 

Ever since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys. 

With a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple the Dark?

EXCERPT:

“Where are we going?” Wyndi asked.

“My room.” Five rapid heartbeats later, they were inside his bedroom with Petúr kicking the door closed behind them. “I need to know something,” he said in his honey tones.

Wyndi glanced up at him from under her lashes, and shivered. He was staring at her with eyes glinting gold. The braid he wore in his hair dangled down the right side of his cheek, tickling her.

“What do you want to know?”

“This.”

Petúr bent his head, slanted his mouth over hers, tongue tasting the line of her lips until she parted them on an intake of breath. When their flesh met, she closed her eyes. Fireworks exploded inside her head, the luminous sparks floating, then falling, falling, and transitioning into a force crashing down over her—a title wave of longing. She moaned, tasting the summer sky, morning dew, the sweetness of rainbows, sultry nights, and rain storms.

Mind whirling, her body shifting, she was lying on her back, fingers tangled into the nape of Petúr’s satiny hair, the other hand pressed against the steely strength of his shirt-covered chest. Every part of her became aware of him on some sort of molecular level. Yet nothing could have prepared her for what she experienced when he tucked himself between her thighs and groaned. Heat slammed into her core. Her stomach quivered. Her panties dampened. An inferno. Yes, surely it must be an inferno which lapped at her skin while their tongues tangled into infinity.

****

 Petúr was lost in an ocean of sensation, wave after wave, pulling him under. The connection to this woman beneath him was undeniable. Everything about Wyndi filled him up until there was nothing but her. Her taste. Her touch. Her scent. His chest expanded.

Damn, her scent. She tasted better than the cotton candy fragrance that wafted from her skin. Skin. Oh, yes, skin. That’s what he needed, to feel her soft skin against his.

“Wyndi.” He breathed, saddened to break the kiss, reaching over his shoulder, yanking the material of his shirt, lifting up with the other hand, and pulling the garment from over his head. “I must feel your flesh against mine.”

Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Was she nervous? Well, he’d be the balm to soothe those nerves. He focused on her mouth. Those delicious lips were kiss swollen and moist, making his cock strain even more against the constraint of his pants.

“Okay,” she said in a small, breathy voice, the lids covering her blue eyes at half-mast.

He reached for the hem of the too big nightshirt covering the body he had to see, lifting until he revealed her little white panties and lacy bra covered breasts. Blood raced through his veins. He wanted to do everything with her. To her. Touch all over. Taste every inch of her. Put his fingers and cock into the tight, warm sheath he knew was awaiting him.

Take her. Hell yeah. Those two words became a chant within his mind. He wanted to take his woman in every position he could imagine and then some. His woman? Yes. Yes she was his, or would be. Slow your roll. You don’t want to scare her. He had to maintain. He couldn’t go at her like some out of control beast.

Leaning down, he kissed between the creamy mounds of her cleavage, skimmed his cheek across the apex of her right breast, watching goose bumps scatter across her flesh in a wanton invitation. Unable to stop himself from licking her, he lapped at her in one, long, lingering stroke, from the top edge of the bra, up her collarbone, only stopping because the material he’d lifted hindered his progress being bunched around her neck.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “You taste so good.”  

LINKS:

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/London-Saint-James/e/B005I7KJWY/

ARe Author Page: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=London+Saint+James

Barnes & Noble Author Page: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/london-saint-james

LSJ Romance: http://www.londonsaintjames.com/evernight-publishing.html

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-riseofthelostprince-1740485-340.html

Raven McAllan Is Back!

I'm thrilled to say that the wonderfully talented Raven McAllan is back on the blog with His Boss Her Dom!

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Description:

Having a relationship with your boss is never easy, especially when it involves kink. Jamie might need to salute Eva and call her Ma'am at work, but when it's just the two of them, he is Master to his puss. 

They are determined to make their unusual situation work, but, first they have to solve the case of the shady next door neighbors. 

Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, public exhibition

Hiss Boss Excerpt:

Why the hell did she look familiar? Jamie scratched the ears of Russ, and searched his brain. He'd seen her before, he was sure of it, but for the life of him couldn't think where. He hoped to god it wasn't somewhere that could jeopardize this job.

The voluptuous woman standing in front of him was, he judged, in her early to mid forties, so around ten or twelve years older than him, with a body he itched to taste. Those curves were made for him to touch and hold and…whoa, hold it there. She's not one of the subbies who want a little bit of pain, nipple clamps, a nice crop mark over their ass, and a butt plug. She's just someone on this postal round that may or may not know something to help me. More's the pity. He coughed to regain her attention.

"Bad news?"

"What?" The woman—Eva—looked up from the paper in her hand with a peculiar smile on her face. "Oh no just the opposite. Am I last on your route like normal?"

He nodded. "Well you're last on my route anyway."

"Good, then you can come in and tell me all about it." She unlocked the door and preceded him into the kitchen. "Russ can come in as well. I can't be doing with chasing after him again. Although he has a well honed sense of preservation, and after the first kick up the jacksie the asshole, sorry my neighbor gave him, he only heads off in that direction when their car has gone down the lane."

Jamie shut the door behind them. Even though the day passed as warm for Scotland, there was enough humidity to make the midges a pain in the ass. A pain everywhere in all honesty. He scratched a bite and made a mental note to put repellant in the van the next day.

"Here." Eva handed him a small bottle. "Antihistamine. It'll stop you itching. At this time of year the midges are horrendous. Lovely long evenings that I admire from behind glass, and watch clouds of the buggers trying to get in. Remember, repellent is your best friend on this route." She picked up the kettle and turned on the tap.

Jamie laughed. "Yes, Ma'am."

Eva spun round from the sink, unheeding of the water that spilled over her hands and dripped onto the floor. "Why did you call me Ma’am?"

Now he was confused. "Well, you sounded bossy. Sorry, I thought you'd get the joke. You know Ma’am, in charge sort of thing. I'm sorry if it upset you." Shit, I hope she's not one of those touchy feminist types.

 "Not at all. I just wondered why Ma’am." She turned back to the sink, switched the tap off and then the kettle on before mopping the floor. Only then did she swivel around to face him again. "And yes, Sergeant, you can call me Ma’am, if you want to. Otherwise, here, Eva will be fine."

He knew fine well his jaw dropped. She'd made him? How the fuck?

Eva smiled at him. "Sorry Sergeant." She waved the letter he'd brought, and she'd signed for. "It doesn't matter how often I tell them that post to this neck of the woods takes longer than in the city, do they ever listen?" she asked—rhetorically he assumed. "Oh no," she went on. "They post this at some stupid hour of the night and expect me to get it the day after. Not only that some penny pinching asshat put a second class stamp on it. So, Sergeant James Swinton, from a different area of the force, How about telling me what you've found out."

He shut his mouth, and swallowed heavily. "Ah. Oh bollocks, am I deep in the shit?"

"Ah, indeed." Eva reached into a drawer and took out small leather wallet. "And no, not at all, unless you think you should be for not recognizing me." She went bright red. "Although I've only had brief contact with you. I…er…taught a session when you were on a training course last year." She, handed him the wallet, and he saw what was inside.

A warrant card with her photo on and stating she was a Chief Inspector in the Scottish Police force. Okay, he'd buy that, even though it was the biggest cock deflator since Sadie Stewart laughed at his attempt to find her clit. Mind you he was only a teenager at the time, and his aim and attention to the female body had improved considerably since then.

"Ma’am." He snapped to attention and she laughed.

"I'm allegedly on holiday, and you're allegedly a postie, so we can cut the formalities I reckon. Time enough to get out the tags and labels when we have to. You're a long way from home, why did they choose you?"

 Why did he think she was deliberately changing the subject? Oh she'd taught him, he didn't disbelieve that, but there was something else, he'd stake his pension on it. Now he thought about it, he couldn't believe he'd missed the connection. However this luscious woman with, he reckoned, braless breasts covered in a soft lawn gypsy style blouse, teamed with a long almost see through maxi skirt was nothing like the stern-faced woman in uniform that had addressed his class. Only the eyes were the same. A deep glittering blue-green that reminded him of the Caribbean Sea. As he stared into her eyes, a dim memory teased him. Where else had he seen eyes that beautiful color?