Keeper: Avenging Angels MC!

Author promotion.

Today I am thrilled to once again host my fellow Wicked Pen author, Nia Farrell. Her upcoming new release, Keeper: Avenging Angels MC (Book 2) is out next month, so she’s here to whet our appetites with some juicy details about the book!

Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan and Isabella Castellari have a history. Kind of. He’s a member of the Avenging Angels MC and one of four brothers whom she thinks slept with her sister three years ago. Or did they? Nothing is as it seems. Isabella’s world is turned upside down when lies are exposed, truths revealed, and the man she’s been fantasizing about for three long years makes her an offer that she should refuse but can’t.

When Mad Dog recognizes Isabella stranded on a rural country road, remembering her toxic sister, he almost doesn’t stop. Seeing her as an end to a means, he brings her back to the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse and quickly learns that she’s different—very different—than what he expected. She’s a curious innocent, and willing to submit to his domination. But there are complications.  A mob boss uncle, protective parents, a traitorous friend, and secrets that have been kept for far too long. Secrets that will either bind them together or tear them apart.

This book has adult content and may contain triggers. Written for ages 18+.

Ready for a naughty little excerpt? Go on then (but be warned this is for adults ONLY!)

 ***

He couldn’t deny, it was a huge ego stroke to know that he was her first.  But she was also Isabella F**king Castellari.  Never Miss Little Italy like her sister, but they shared the same blood ties to the f**king mob.

 Of course, Isabella didn’t know that he knew about her crime family connection.  He’d been keeping too many f**king secrets for too f**king long.  Her sister Krissy and her Uncle Giovanni were just some of many.

 Rather than open that can of worms, he chose a safer subject.

 “So, tell me.”  Reaching, he smoothed her hair back from her face and traced the line of her jaw with two fingers.  “Before tonight, did you know that Anna was seeing Richie?”

 She sighed softly.  “No.  I mean, I thought that she was seeing someone, but she always had an excuse.  Usually, it was homework, but then we graduated and she was still too busy.”

 F**k.

 Mad Dog forced his voice to stay calm.  “How old are you, Isabella?”  Please tell me you’re not jail bait on top of a mob boss’s niece.

 “I turned eighteen on March sixth.  Michelangelo’s birthday.  And the day the Alamo fell, if you’re into Texas history.  How old are you?”

 “Thirty.”  Twelve years her senior.  He rubbed a hand across his face and blew out softly.  “Jesus, that sounds old.”

 Reaching across, she caught his dog tags, weighed them in her hand, and said solemnly, “You’re not old.  You’re experienced.  And I’m hoping that you’ll teach me.”

 He levelled a look at her.  He needed to be honest, at least in this.  “Clubhouse life isn’t for everyone,” he told her.  “We do things different here.  We’re all in the BDSM lifestyle as well as the club.  The men here Dominate.  The women submit.  Did you read Fifty Shades or watch the movies?”

 Isabella nodded.

 “Well, f**k that shit.  That’s not how things are done.  You want to learn?  We’ll get cleaned up and go downstairs.  The lounge is your classroom.  You’ll learn things there that they don’t teach in college.  Are you signed up to go anywhere this fall?”

 “SIU,” she said.  “For photography and graphic design.”

 He remembered the point-and-shoot he’d found in her purse.  “You a shutterbug?”

 “You could say that.  I took my first picture when I was four.  Got my own camera when I was six.  I never leave home without one.”

 “And the graphic design?”

 “You know all those books on my reader? Someone does the covers.  Might as well be me.  Take the pictures, offer premades and customs.  It’s something that I think I’d enjoy and be good at.  I’ve already done one for my cousin.  She uses a pen name so that no one knows she writes erotica.  She tells people that she’s a ghost writer and can’t disclose anything.”

 “She had you do a cover?  Like, with models?  Naked models?”

 Isabella bit her lip and coiled a strand of hair around her finger.  “Well, it is erotica,” she said coyly.

 He wasn’t smiling.  She was eighteen, for Christ’s sake.  What the hell was her cousin thinking?

 “Just teasing!”  She traced his lips with the pad of her index finger.  He caught it between his teeth and refused to give it back until her eyes had gone smoky and her thoughts were disjointed.  “She, um…”  Isabella cleared her throat and tried again.  “She dressed up like a cheerleader.  The cover shows her chest and midriff.  You…um…you can’t see her face.”

 “Paperback or just e-book?”

 “Both.”  She smiled with quiet pride.  “I have a copy, if you’d like to see it.”

 “I would.”  If they were going to try and make a go of this, he needed to know what she was doing.  What she had planned.  Then he’d expand her horizons where he could.

 “And the graphic design—apart from the book covers.  Can you draw?”

 “Yes.”

 “Paint?”

 Her brow scrunched.  “Yes?  Some?  That’s not my—”

 “Sweet.  You could learn to tattoo.”

 “Wait.  What?”  She looked at him, confused.  He’d gone too fast and lost her.  Now she was trying to get her bearings.

 He shifted gears.  “How about a summer job?  You working anywhere?”

 “No.  I’m taking two online classes. Getting some of the required subjects taken care of so that I can immerse myself in the good stuff come fall.”

 “The club owns a tat shop.  Angel Ink.  Flynn will need to see what you can do, but if you pass muster and want a full- or part-time job, he can use the help.  Front desk scheduling, answering the phone, checking in deliveries.  Normal receptionist-office assistant stuff.  He can teach you on the side, if you want to learn.  Never hurts to learn another job skill, just in case the market for photography tanks, no one’s hiring graphic designers, and your cousin can’t afford what you’re worth.”

 That last bit seemed to perk her up.  “How do you know what I’m worth?” she challenged.  “My professors might think that I suck.”

 He begged to differ.  “As your teacher, I would say that your oral skills need developed, but the student shows promise.  Think you’re ready for your next lesson?”

 Mad Dog caught her hand and wrapped her fingers around his half-hard shaft.  “Just a hint.  The correct answer is yes….”

***

Biker girl riding on a motorcycle. Bottom view of the legs in leather boots.

Yummy, right?!

Read more sexy teasers here, and get ready to grab your copy next month! You can do so at Amazon!

Find out more about Nia and myself over at the Wicked Pens’ site and Facebook page!


 

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Tempered Steel Series Books 4-6

Author promotion.

On August 8th, author and fellow Wicked Pen, Maggie Adams brings the Tempered Steel series (books 4-6) to our e-readers!

In this edition, The Coalson family saga continues with only small clues leading to the person responsible for the downfall of the family business and the ever-increasing presence of criminal activity in their small town. They vow to wreak vengeance on those responsible, but unforeseen circumstances may put the brothers and the ones they love in jeopardy.

Brandon and Nick foil an attempt to assassinate a pretty private eye and her sweet sister. Together with Sam and his best SEAL buddies, Jax and Noah, they vow to bring the ringleader to justice and rid their town of the criminals. But nothing goes according to plan, and the men must fight Mother Nature, a murderer, and the local law enforcement. Not to mention that the new secretary, Anna Meeks, is definitely hiding something, and Brandon is determined to uncover her secrets, and the luscious body she’s trying to hide under those ridiculously conservative clothes.

Lucky Coalson’s luck has run out. He’s been accused of murder and it’s up to the Coalsons and the Morgan sisters to find the real killer. Lucky cringes to know that the very woman who threw him in the river is going to be the one to save him from a prison cell. And feisty P. I. Renee Morgan isn’t too happy herself about it because every time she’s near him, her body responds in a very unprofessional manner.

Although Nick Coalson is attracted to the fiery redhead, Rebecca Morgan, her dangerous job makes her off limits, especially as she is almost killed during their investigation. He wants quiet and submissive, not reckless and determined. But her sweet curves and sexy smile are melting his resolve and his heart. When she is kidnapped by a human trafficker, Nick will need the help of an outside source who wants Rebecca for himself. So, who will come out the victor?

Don’t forget to read the story from the beginning with Whistlin’ Dixie, and meet all brothers and the sexy, strong-willed women that win their hearts. Grab the beginning of the saga now!

Buy the new series right here!

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Maggie Adams teaser…

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Replay Book 7: Wing Men…

Author promotion.

Today, I am thrilled to host the awesome Nia Farrell, and her latest new release, Wing Men (Replay Book 7)

This time around at the Replay resort, it’s World War I weekend, and vocalist Lara Eastman is one of the entertainers hired to help bring the past to life.  The offer comes at a time when she’s worried about how to pay her bills.  She accepts the job but declines getting vetted to play—something that she quickly regrets when she meets not one but two very attractive—and very Dominant—pilots.

 Alexander Boulton is the resort owner’s cousin.  This weekend, the handsome Brit is flying a Sopwith Camel against his rival Dmitry Chezhekov, a Russian-born pilot who portrays a German flying ace.  On the ground, the red-haired singer comes under both men’s sights. 

 Lara meets Alex first, but she’s equally attracted to Dmitry.  She rarely hooks up at events, but Alex and Dmitry will prove the exception to her rules.  The truth is, she wants them both.  Unwilling to settle for one when she can have it all, Lara proposes a threesome.

 The men are fierce competitors.  Each is determined to bring her the ultimate in pleasure.  Only one thing is certain.  If they want her, they’ll have to learn to share.

 Written for ages 18+.

Ready to dive into Replay 7? Check out this tempting little teaser…

***

An air raid signal sounded.  German soldiers grabbed their guns and took their places behind the sandbag barriers.  The planes came in low, strafing the field.  Bursts of blank rounds sounded from the German rifles.  Puffs of dirt flew into the air from charges that had been laid earlier.  The way that they detonated, it looked like bullets from the planes were hitting the ground.

Meanwhile, the German pilots were scrambling, climbing in their fighters, strapping on goggles, and preparing to start their engines.  Five ground crew members each took hold of a propeller and gave it a spin.  The radial engines roared to life.  Freed of their wheel chocks, the planes headed for the runway.

Dmitry was the last to take off, but his Fokker’s superb climbing ability allowed him to quickly join the others.  They flew only far enough to turn and meet the British head on.

From her vantage point, Dmitry and Alex’s planes seemed to be on a collision course.  She held her breath and fisted her gloved hands, watching, hoping, trusting that nothing went wrong.  At the last minute, the Sopwith Camel pulled up, barely missing the Fokker.

More passes were made.  Planes were “disabled.”  Billowing trails of blue smoke, the downed German planes landed here.  The “crippled” British planes returned to their imaginary base.

Finally, only three were left.  Dmitry, Alex, and another British pilot engaged in a stunning display of aerial combat, with all the climbs, rolls, and maneuvers that you’d expect in a big-budget motion picture.  Eventually, Dmitry simulated being shot, leaving a trail of smoke as he landed.  The two British planes flew off, victorious after their successful raid.

Cheers broke out from the crowd.  When the applause had quieted, Sir Piers addressed the spectators who’d come out for the morning battle.

“Thank you,” he said.  “What an amazing display!  The pilots shall all return shortly and will be joining us.  Lunch will be served at eleven thirty, to our reenactors, patrons, staff members, and guests.  The next reenactment, scheduled this afternoon at one, will be a German attack on a French airfield.  The final battle today at five pm will be a different version of this scenario.  Meanwhile, the bar will soon be open in the casino tent, where games of chance, music, and conversation may be found for those who wish to stay the day.”

While they had been watching the combat demonstration, a crew of workers had erected yet another tent, yellow striped with two massive center posts and a roof that would cover a one-ring circus.  She guessed that tables, chairs, and equipment were being carried in through a back opening.  The casino’s front door flaps were closed.

“I’m afraid that it is off limits to you, my dear,” Sir Piers said, “where you are not vetted.  Pity, but rules are rules where scenes are concerned.”

“I understand,” she assured him.  “But the day is lovely.  You’ve provided food, and shelter from the sun.  A place to sit and things to see.  I’m hoping to get a closer look at the planes, if they’ll let me.”

“I’m certain that can be arranged.”  He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper.  “I know people.”

Lara laughed.  “I’m sure that you do.  Hopefully, he’ll be back soon.”

Sir Piers strained his ear, listening.  “I do believe that I hear a familiar stutter headed this way.  Alex should be here shortly.  I must leave soon to check on the situation at home.  With luck, I will not return alone.  We shall see.”

The German soldiers were already headed for the food tent.  The ground crews and pilots followed.  Lara sat in one of four folding chairs at a small round table in a shady corner of the space. With tea to drink and a scone to nibble on, she settled in to people watch.  It always fascinated her when costumed civilians and military reenactors intermingled.  And she loved listening to the reenactors who regaled each other with stories.  It truly was like stepping back in time.

Being a single female, sitting alone and therefore perceived as available, she halfway expected to be approached by the men, and possibly some of the women.  Introducing herself as a non-vetted performer worked like a charm.  Most of these people were here to play.

The only one who seemed to not mind that she couldn’t was Dmitry.  But then, she suspected that he looked upon her as a special challenge.  He took his time coming over, accepting accolades from the other reenactors and chatting with a few other guests.  Helping himself to a plate of late breakfast and a cup of coffee, he headed straight for her.

“I sit here, da?”

Lara managed to not smile.  “If that’s a question—May you sit here?—the answer is yes.  Yes, you may sit with me.”

Dmitry took the chair to her right.  His plate was heavy on protein and lower on carbs.  He spiked his coffee with a dash of whatever he was carrying in an antique silver flask.  Slipping it back inside his brown leather aviator’s jacket, he flashed an unrepentant grin.  “A touch,” he said.  “Safe to fly later.  Safe to sit now.  Tonight, I listen to you.  When done, maybe you listen to me.  We see.”

“Lara.”

Alex’s voice dashed the flame that Dmitry’s smoldering delivery had ignited inside her, but only for a moment.  Alex and Dmitry were rivals in the air, but were they willing to share?  She didn’t want to choose between them.  She wanted them both, if only for the weekend.

Which brought her to all of the obstacles that must be overcome.  She wasn’t vetted.  If the men could be talked into a threesome, it would be vanilla sex in Dmitry’s room at the resort, quiet kink at her bed and breakfast, or permission to use the St. Leger’s Dungeon for a full-blown session of kinky f**kery.

She knew what she wanted.

Lara wanted it all.

“Alex,” Lara chirped, hoping that she managed to sound relatively innocent.  So many naughty thoughts were in her head right now, her mind was doing a spin that would have earned her a nine point five at the Winter Olympics.  “Won’t you join us?”

Dmitry bristled, but she ignored it.  Better to find out now if there was hope for both men tonight.  They would have to agree on a number of things—first and foremost, could they play with her together, or would she need to keep them apart?

Alex looked at his plate, at Dmitry, at her.  “I believe that I shall.  Thank you.”  He took the chair to her left, sandwiching her between them.

 Delicious.

Alex’s plate was a balance of protein and carbs.  He and Dmitry had both taken sausage links and scrambled eggs, but Alex had added hash browns, a biscuit with butter and jelly, and several pieces of fresh fruit.  Dmitry had opted for half a biscuit smothered in sausage gravy and no potatoes.

Dmitry seemed to be enjoying the Russian equivalent of Irish coffee.  Alex drank milk and nodded approvingly at her tea.

“So, tell me,” she said, looking at Alex.  “This morning’s combat.  From down here, it looked like you two were going to take each other out.  When you’re sharing airspace, how close do you get before you pull away?”

He sliced an apologetic glance at Dmitry.  “Today, closer than I like.  The controls were slow to respond.  I’ll check it out before I take her up again.”

Lara took a breath and looked at Dmitry, too.  “You didn’t try to avoid him.  No evasive action that I saw, anyway.””

Dmitry shrugged as if it were no big deal.  “He was close.  I wait.  He move.”

“Well,” she said, glancing at each man, connecting them with her gaze, “I’ve seen you share airspace.  I was wondering if—hoping that?—I might tempt you to share more.  Just so you know, I’m not a trained submissive.  I’ve never done anything much beyond having my wrists tied, wearing a blindfold, and getting spanked.  Pretty vanilla, I know.  But I’m willing, if you are.  Except that not being vetted limits us to what we can do on Replay property.  I’m going to leave you two to figure it out.  Come tonight and hear me sing.  After the concert, you can tell me what you want to do.”

She left them sitting, speechless.  It was a temporary state, she was certain.  While she went to look at the airplanes, they were probably stabbing at their breakfasts and dueling with each other for supremacy.

 There can be only one…

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Could two Doms be in control?  She thought so.  She hoped so.  One thing was certain.  If they wanted her, they’d have to learn to share.

 ***

Wing Men Nia Farrell.jpg teaser

Read more red-hot excerpts from Wing Men here!

Add it to your TBR list at Goodreads!

Grab your copy of the latest hot instalment from Replay at Amazon.

Find Nia and myself over at the Wicked Pens site. You are very welcome to join us!


 

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What’s your pleasure?

New from the Wicked Pens…

Join me and several other great Wicked Pens next Tuesday for a special Ask The Authors session! On August 1st only, they’ll be 12 hours of fun, giveaways, and stimulated interaction. Come on over and find out what makes us tick, what gives us pleasure, and how that translates into our reading and writing. All of your questions are welcome, so don’t be shy… Join us! I’ll be there at 3pm EDT (8pm BST.)

Plus ONE lucky participant* will WIN a fabulous vibrator courtesy of the awesome Kink Crate!

Remember, you must be a member of the Wicked Pens to participate. Join us here, and see you on Tuesday. 🙂

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