Lillian Grant's Male Order – Reigning Men book One

Male Order – Reigning Men book One

Sleeping with her flatmate, Sam had been a mistake—becoming a strip club manager's pimp was a disaster

Blurb: Meg’s mother can't even say the word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept with left her frustrated.  The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwitting visual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s, cowboy style, wanking session. No wonder her libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream and chocolate for sex.

With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why is hunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell does she invest in a male escort business offering extra services?

Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing G spot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be...with the right man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sex with no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

His new life turns nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishman steal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business lead to a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship is more than a sexual rodeo?

www.lilliangrant.com
 

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/books/maleorder.htm

Excerpt

A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied by yells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.

“For fuck sake, can you keep it down in there, literally?”

Laura glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door. “What’s he doing?”

Meg shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.

“Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’ll have to go find out for myself.”

Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleam in her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laid back in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with his hand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, would freak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserved a girl a little fussier about where she slept.

Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm, spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, why couldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?

“If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”

Laura retook her seat, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”

Meg glanced at the bedroom door. Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached the lounge room.

“Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”

She looked back at Laura then stared at a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam had after she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowed slob, but a slob nonetheless.

“Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”

Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”

Laura snorted coffee all over the place. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Laura died from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’s wanking caused her death.

Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked, “And you found this out how?”

Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big deal really. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had him yelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doing in there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.

She had shoved the door open and there he lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eye contact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.

The thought of that monster in his hand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red and engorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable to move until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of his warm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.

The spell had finally been broken when he winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. She had turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressed in her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.

“I went to check on him one afternoon when he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off. Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”

Laura leaned forward, her face flushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”

Having Laura over was a mistake, she made no secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body and rippling abs. No way was she going to add anything else to her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactive imagination.

Despite all but chasing after him with drool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wondered why. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled long blonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Sam hadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered, the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if the women he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and pale blue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on her when he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone to flat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curl around her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.

Meg shrugged. “More like My Little Pony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped out without guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”

With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cup on the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need a slogan for Wonder Bites.”

“I thought we did that already?”

“I ran them by Bill. His exact words were ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwich boards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”

“Such a lovely turn of phrase, no wonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours truly sucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” She giggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.

“I was focusing on the health aspects of the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award for advertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”

“They do smell funky. I was just being honest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap in New South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couch in catchy slogans to sell garbage no one wanted? If only she had a product she believed in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?”

“Every day, hun, I’ve even researched what else I could do with my skills.”

A kernel of an idea had been growing in Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her. “I was thinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”

“Doing what?”

Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”

Laura leaned forward into Meg’s peripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’ve been thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”

The door to Sam’s room banged open. Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a little further, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his only attire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, but thankfully not the full length of anything else.

He grinned at them, flashing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “How to kill noisy flat mates.”

She didn’t need to look to know he had moved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her nose announced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearing me almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more you wouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, but you’re too sexually repressed to let go.”

His face hovered above hers. Screw him. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression on his mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered with barely contained laughter.

“For someone so ready to hand out dating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies of late.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for the right jockey.”

Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe you can’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”

Her jibe missed the mark. He laughed before bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickled her neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in the saddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just how big my stallion really is.”

Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him away. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had felt more intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing. “Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”

SD Grady New Release The Silver Scream

One of my friends just had a release.  I love her cover!! 

Publisher:  Purple Sword Publications
Author:  S.D. Grady


Film school student, Gilda Albright, has taken a job in the newly refurbished Orpheum Theatre as a movie projectionist. The gem from another era prompts her imagination to take flight, and she invites her boyfriend Seth to a private screening. Looking like a movie star from the 50’s, she strips in the spotlight, ensnaring Seth’s lust and drawing the eager eyes of another to her buxom figure. The building takes on a life of its own—fear invades Gilda’s workdays. Will the unseen gremlin let her go or fulfill its erotic obsession with a vision from the past?

Excerpt

Wrapped in Seth’s arms, warm in the afterglow of passion, Gilda listened to the remaining tracks on her CD. She closed her eyes and hummed along. His nose nuzzled her throat; his hands roamed her wide hips.

A buzzing joined the music.

Must be a bad mp3 file, she mused.

It became louder.

She wiggled, pushing Seth off her. “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

She shoved his arms down. “That? The hum? It’s louder, isn’t it?”

He tried to pull her back down. “That’s just me, Gil. Come here, I want another go. Will you dance again?”

“No. Stop it, Seth. The lights are brighter, too.”

Sighing, he sat up. With one eye closed, he looked up at the spotlight. “Those are always bright.”

On her knees, Gilda looked around the auditorium. She pointed at the screen. “That’s creepy.”

He turned to look. He tried to block the flicker from the rotating light and stared.

“Do you see it?” Gilda swallowed against a dry throat. “It’s…”

“It looks a bit like you.”

They both watched the shadowy figure insinuate itself across the silver screen. The ghost moved with the grace of a dancer, but displayed an atypical buxom figure.

Gilda stood up and turned to look up at the porthole. “The projector’s not on. How is it there?”

Seth began to pull on his pants and offered her the gown. “I don’t know, but that means somebody else is in here, and I think we’d better get going.”

“Yeah.” She continued to look from the mysterious figure to the projection booth. “I guess you’re right.” She slipped the dress over her head, settling the straps on her shoulders and smoothing the fabric over her breasts.

The humming returned.

She spun around, trying to focus on the source of the sound.

“Watch out!” Seth’s voice stunned her.

Shannon Leigh - Dark Tales 1: Vampyress

Originally, I, along with several other authors, had worked on a project for a now defunct publisher. It was based on the old Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer. Each author was given a character from the original storyline. I was given the Knight. We had to come up with our own version of our character, and believe me, they were a far cry from Chaucer's originals. While a knight is typically heroic, I wanted to write a different type of hero, one born from darkness and evil. I was really into vampires at the time so I came up with a story about a woman whose last name was Knight, but who became the first vampire. When I moved that story to a new publisher, I revisited the idea, changed, and recreated the main character into one a lot darker, sexier, and mysterious.

In the second version, I focused more on the history of Vlad Dracula and the supposed cruelty of his reigns (he had more than one) and gave the reader a chilling account of how Ivona's character developed as the actions of Vlad impacted her life. While the original had no romance involved, the romantic in me couldn't help but add a devilishly handsome character who hints at the possibility of a link with Ivona's history. I hope to continue this idea with a second story, one that focuses more on the man but develops the idea that he and Ivona do indeed have a link to each other, one neither anticipated. Since the first story focuses on one historical figure who (if the recounts are indeed true) did some things to people that couldn't be anything less than evil, I considered tying the second story in with another infamous person of history, one who committed some equally chilling crimes: Elizabeth Bathory. It was rumored that she had an illegitamate son, you know. Muahahahha....

On a more serious and personal note, while researching Vlad Dracul's history, there were several times when I found myself deeply disturbed and even horrified. There were things he did to people that are so grim and cruel that it makes you wonder if he were even human at all. I found myself in tears many times as I imagined what his victims went through. It certainly made me hope that some of the things I read were perhaps exagerated or even false. I know there's been others in history (Hitler for example) who seemed to have no heart or mercy when it came to killing off what he considered lesser humans. But to try and fathom the depth of wickedness that had to fill Vlad's soul is almost beyond my comprehension. I wonder if that's why I've put off writing the second story. Perhaps I'm not ready to delve into another gruesome history lesson.

DARK TALES 1: VAMPYRESS
Author: Shannon Leigh
ISBN-13: 9781935013105
Genre: Horror
Length: Short Story
Publisher: Wild Child Publishing
Purchase URL: Wild Child Publishing

BLURB:

Cursed to harbor the beast that drove the Prince of Walachia to perform unspeakable acts of cruelty upon her loved ones, Ivona Knight has spent the last five hundred years eliminating all descendants of the Dracula line. Trapped within a remote tavern by a hammering storm, she engages in a storytelling game with her fellow patrons. But as she conveys her tale, she senses a familiar presence emanating from one of the others that stirs emotions deep within her which only one other has ever evoked. Has she found her next target? Or has she become the hunted?

***

EXCERPT:

“What do you propose we do for the next several hours?” The deep voice had a strong southern drawl, the rich baritone filling the cold room with the warmth of vibrant sunshine on a lazy summer day.

Ivona vaguely remembered the sun. Centuries had passed since she’d felt its welcoming rays. It boggled her mind how the sound of this man’s voice brought forth such an ancient and precious memory.

Though he posed the question to the bartender, Ivona had the distinct feeling it held a silent proposition for her. She glanced toward the bar. Sure enough, her inquisitive gaze met a pair of striking blue eyes, overshadowed with thick, but neat, black brows.

The man’s firm, sensual mouth pulled into an appealing grin, his straight white teeth a stark contrast in the weak light. He lifted his shot glass in mock salute before downing the amber colored contents in one gulp. Before either acknowledged the other’s attraction, someone posed another question.

“And what about food?” a mature gentleman called. “I don’t know about the rest of ya, but I’m starving!”
Several others nodded their head.

The bartender stroked his stubbled chin between a thick thumb and forefinger. “Well, I’ve got a sandwich and chips in the back. But it’s not enough to feed all of ya.”

Ivona couldn’t believe how quickly the others dismissed the roaring wind and thunderous blasts outside as the paltry meal became the center of everyone’s attention. Everyone excluding her and the blue jean-clad man propped at the bar. Voices once again rose in excitement as the patrons argued over how to divide the bartender’s offering.

Propping her chin in her palm, she silently watched while the chaos grew, males and females forming sides against each other. It seemed the men favored purchasing a share, but the women disagreed, claiming they should be chivalrous and donate their portion to them. Ivona snickered when one poor soul was threatened with being tossed outside to the tempest after suggesting drawing straws. No matter how much they fussed and argued, no one agreed on how to partition the food.

“I have an idea,” a slight feminine voice butted into the midst of the maelstrom.

Ivona glanced about the room, noticing that no one paid the woman any heed. “I said, I have an idea,” she repeated louder.

Everyone ceased bickering, turning all eyes toward the middle-aged woman seated in the far left-hand corner.

“We’re listening,” the man in the expensive suit sneered.

“I propose we play a game. The winner will get the entire sandwich and the chips. Everyone has an equal opportunity of winning, and since we’re obviously stuck here a while, it will also pass the time.”

Intrigued by the suggestion, the others settled back into their seats. A look of triumph pasted on her otherwise plain features, the woman stood up next to her chair. “Each participant will have a chance to tell a story—real or fictional— without interruption by any of the others. Once everyone is finished, the bartender will judge who gave the best anecdote. The winner takes the spoils.”

Ivona couldn’t believe the ridiculousness of the rules. She had no desire to sit for hours and listen to any of their silly tales. Besides, what qualified the bartender as judge?

She snorted with contempt when, despite her aversion to the idea, everyone else jumped up to make preparations to get started. The room bustled with animation as men hurried to move tables out of the way and women rearranged chairs into a big circle in the middle. Only the blue-jean clad man remained seated.
“Now what?” the young blonde asked, her voice shrill with excitement. “Who goes first?”

Ivona stared at her a moment. Seems she’s forgotten the waiting husband.

“I’d like to hear from the lady in red, if there’s no objection.”

The smooth baritone sung through Ivona’s veins like a bow across a well-tuned cello. A strange shudder worked its way up her legs and centered at the juncture of her thighs, followed by a flash of moisture, a rush of heat. She glanced back at the bar, taking in his attractive physique from the top of his dark head to the rounded toes of his black Harley boots.

He’s straightforward. She liked that. No beating around the bush.

Tall, muscular, well proportioned, the man looked like an athlete. A black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the taut garment stretching to the point of full. His worn jeans hung low on his trim waist and long legs, molding along his muscled thighs and outlining the form at his groin with delicious clarity.

Ivona’s gaze lingered there a while. Bold in her appraisal of his endowment, she had little concern for her bawdy behavior. Nice.

She moved her inspection upward, finding his rugged features equally appealing—face beardless and sharp, profile strong and rigid. He comes from good stock.

His overall form portrayed a lot of history within his genes, and perhaps, quite a bit within his jeans as well. She doubted he suffered from a lack of bed partners. I should like to explore that avenue later.

Amused by her careful scrutiny, he winked. Shifting to lean against the bar, he used one elbow to support his pleasing form. The movement drew her gaze to his muscled chest and flat abs. A leather coat would complete this bad boy appearance. She wondered if a motorcycle waited out back.

***

Shannon Leigh
Amber Quill Assistant Review Coordinator
"Giving readers the O in their erOtica."
Website: http://shannonleigh.org
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Shannon_Leigh_Newsletter/
*Nana's Little Black Book--calling all incubi*
*Chasing Booty--the payoff is too good to pass up.*
*Dark Tales--not your average bedtime story.*

Leading Men and Women: Who's your fav for your books?

I am guesting over at Some Write it Hot!  Talking about leading men and women who I would love to have the lead roles if one of my books is made into a movie.


So who would you chose?

Come by Some Write It Hot and let me know!

You can find me HERE.


Would love to hear from everyone!