April 09 titles
Hope Springs Eternal
by Ginger Simpson
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-62-3
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-70-8
With Chloe nestled at her feet, Hope settled back at her desk, relieved to
have her annual exam behind her. Now she had only to wait for the test
results before taking a deep breath. She prayed for no unpleasant
After adjusting her headphones, she reached over to push the start
button on the recorder, but paused. Visions of Dr. Carlson flashed
through her mind. Those eyes, the slight dimples when he smiled. He
possessed masculine qualities that would make a nun consider changing
her faith. At least Hope would, except she wasn’t Catholic. There was
something about the man that drew her like a magnet.
At first she wondered if perhaps it had to do with the fact she’d gone
without sex for so long, but that wasn’t it. If she’d been intimate ten
minutes before she saw him, she’d still be attracted.
by Rhonda Parrish
Heat rating: 1 flame
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-63-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-71-5
Xaphan had a lot of minions—a lot. They swarmed on Bayne like flies on
shit, a living wave of fists and feet, all determined to bring him down.
None of them reached him. His face, contorted by battle fury, looked
every bit like a demon, all trace of humanity erased. He moved the
sword as though it were an extension of himself, each movement
calculated to destroy as many of his foes as possible. Within minutes, the
roar of battle subsided to the whimpering of wounded and Bayne’s once
white hair was stained pink with blood. An occasional cut ripped
through his shirt; one or two even managed to draw blood. But in less
than ten minutes, he’d reduced the vampire’s army to a pile of mangled
corpses and unidentified gore.
I entered as he replaced his sword in the scabbard strapped across his
back, careful to watch my step lest I slip on the blood and goo and find
myself covered in things I’d rather not contemplate. From a far corner,
buried in shadows that mortal eyes couldn’t hope to penetrate, the
distinct sound of feminine sobs could be heard. The leech had hostages
after all. Good thing I’d decided against the fireball.
A Gift of Love
by Wendy Stone
Heat rating: 2 flames
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-64-7
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-72-2
Danielle had no idea what would happen to her when her cruel stepmother called for her. She didn’t know she was being sold in marriage to a man she’d never met. And when she did meet him, she couldn’t see beyond the foreboding mask he wore.
Christopher would pay any price to win Danielle as his own, even respecting her request for separate bedrooms. But can his gentleness win her over, or will she always see him as the beast?
"My Lord," she said, her words almost whisper soft and breathless with
nervous anticipation of his reaction. "I...I need to ask something of you."
Christopher sat down his fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and
gave her his full attention. "Whatever I can do, Danielle, you have but to
ask," he said simply and with a gentle smile.
Danielle could hear David's insidious voice in her ear, his words of
previous wives and the horror of her husband's perversions making her
even more nervous. And confused. His actions with her, his manner had
been kind and gentle, not that of a horrible beast who planned
abominable things that she couldn't even imagine.
"What is it, my Lady?"
"I... I don't want to share your bed." The words blurted from her
mouth quickly and without thought. As soon as they were spoken, she
wished she could call them back. She saw the look in his eyes grow
bitter, and he stared down at his gloved hand with animosity. Did he
think his scars were....
"No, Christopher. Oh, God, no, it's not that." She flew from her chair around the small table until she knelt by his legs,looking up at him. "I just mean, we have only just met and don't knowhow we will deal with the other yet. A few days, time for both of us to
grow accustomed to the other." Her hand reached out and touched his
face, her fingers gentle on his unscarred cheek. "Can you not give me this, Husband?”
by Regina Paul
Heat rating: 5 flames
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-65-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-73-9
Crew left his older lover Eagle to go into space, realizing his lifelong
dream. He was not ready to settle down when Eagle wanted to make
their bond formal. Eagle, a professor, has no use for space faring. Crew
knows Eagle was deeply hurt and angered by what he believed was
Now Crew is back. He’s not sure what kind of homecoming he will
find. Will the man who still holds the keys to his heart and desire make
him welcome or only tease and then reject him in revenge?
His mind made up, Crew walked over to Eagle, slid the jacket down his arms and threw it aside. Then holding his lover’s black gaze with his own, he unbuckled the belt at Eagle’s waist. He almost smiled when he saw Eagle’s eyes narrow, but kept it inside instead. Grabbing the end of the belt that held the buckle he pulled until it slid out of the loops of Eagle’s dress pants. Then still holding Eagle’s eyes, he dropped to his knees and rubbed his cheek against Eagle’s cloth covered erection. His lover’s scent wafted from the cloth, and Crew’s own cock which had never really gone down from before, hardened even further. He pushed his face into Eagle and continued to inhale the beloved scent. Eagle’s hands tangled in Crew’s sunny locks holding Crew in place as a groan wafted from above him. Long minutes later Crew unbuttoned and unzipped the man’s pants, sliding both the pants and Eagle’s boxers down his legs to his knees.
by Andrew Richardson
Heat rating: 2 flames
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-66-1
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-74-6
The Wood is a terrifying, fast paced horror that will thrill the most devout horror fans.
Kath Mahoney has never believed in ancient myths—she has even written a book debunking the Celtic Legends. To celebrate the book’s launch, Kath and a group of friends are invited to join in a ‘live’ role playing adventure focusing on the stories she has managed to disprove. The group soon find themselves in a mysterious wood, where Kath meets some of the creatures from the Celtic myths. The friends find themselves in a violent struggle for survival, fighting against beasts and beings none of them thought, still existed.
On the journey, Kath Mahoney is forced to re-evaluate her beliefs.
“Maybe there’s some truth in fairy tales, after all…”
“The omens are not favorable to your quest.”
“That’s bullshit.” Darren responded to the Arch-druid’s words by
placing his hands firmly on his hips. He glared from face to face, as if daring
anyone to disagree with him.
The withered old man gave a heavy sigh and raised his blood-splattered
hands to the ceiling once more. Drops fell to the straw as he spoke through
his red-tinted beard. “But I have sacrificed a lamb and divined the omens
from its entrails—”
“You might still believe that claptrap. But Kath and I have proved in our
book, that sort of thing never really happened.”
Mandi gave a quiet gag as she clutched her holdall against her chest.
“But I have asked Dana, Lady of the Earth, and Balor, Lord of the
Shadow World, about the success of your visit to their realm…” The
bloodied old man’s voice was quiet but firm.
Authoritative, Kath thought. But he actually believes this, she realized,
feeling the knot that the mead had loosened retighten in her stomach.
“Danger will be your companion should you choose to undertake your
“Cool,” Aaron muttered.
Darren’s eyes narrowed. “So, I’ve come all this way, into the middle of
nowhere, to take part in this adventure. And now you’re saying I can’t
because some dead sheep has a gammy stomach?” His fists clenched at the
side of his body. “Give me strength,” he muttered.”
Now, dear boy, I don’t think there’s any need to get excited,” Max said.
The Arch-druid’s face remained tight, the hearth-fire giving his greying
eyes a burning light that complemented the sheep’s blood splattering his
features. “With nine of you, protected by your number, the gods may have
been prepared to overlook the omens. But you lack the safeguard of the
sacred triple three. You are only twice three…” He shrugged, the gesture
seeming to Kath to be out of keeping with his imposing stature and scarlet tinted
The Sarran Plague
by A.C. Katt
Heat rting: 4 flames
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-67-8
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-75-3
“Thirsty,” she whispered. Then a strong, gentle hand lifted Anya's head.
She nuzzled closer, breathing deeply of fresh linen, vanilla, and man—
“Drink, Pa Mici, drink,” a deep basso voice rumbled.
Anya’s eye caught a snapshot of dark blue eyes, tousled midnight
black hair. A thin white scar traced along the outline of a square jaw. Her
vision was fuzzy around the edges. The hair on his muscled arm tickled
across her back. His palm cupped the nape of her neck, supporting her
head. The thumb stroked downward. She trembled, leaning into the light
The thick fingers of his other hand curved around a filigreed silver
tumbler with maroon and gold swirls.
"Please, thirsty," Anya mumbled as her lips pursed round the
“Careful, Pa Mici, lips that shape beg a kiss,” the deep voice
The juice flowed through her mouth and down her throat, easing the
dryness. Voices in her mind, one was here, the basso. The other, a
baritone, was close by. The vibrations sang sweet music to her sex.
Anya’s skin flushed rose. She reached up and traced a finger along the
“Your skin is exquisite, Pa Mici. Do you feel us yet? ” His soft, mobile
lips swept light kisses across her cheek and nibbled at the corner of her
“Name?” she insisted, sticking out her lower lip, her mouth in moue.
"Jonal. Rest now,” the voice soothed.
“’Tis such a good dream,” Anya whispered, as she grabbed his arm.
“Please, don't make me wake up.”
Rome’s Perfect Boy
By Alex Fox
Heat rating: 5 flames
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647-69-2
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647-77-7
Marcus - a Roman slave boy kept purely for his physical beauty is now sold off by his old master, only to be bought by a new master, the handsome and powerful Equestrian, Antonius Caius Lucien, who intends put Marcus to a new kind of use. The kind of use Marcus has never known before, or could even possibly imagine in his innocence.
Will Marcus accept this new life of complete submission with Antonius? Will he be the one perfect slave Antonius has always looked for? And will Marcus truly become to Master Antonius, Rome's Perfect Boy?
Hurry up and buy me!
Bargaining began between two matrons, but the women were
stopped by a tall, lean man with short dark hair; he looked like a
centurion to me even though he was not in his armour. I took eyes with
him, as I should not, but I was so hot standing here, sweating a rivulet
down my naked chest. The man eyed me very carefully. I saw him go to
speak to my old master and begin bargaining a price. I could not hear
them over the noise of the slave market, but my heart began to race with
excitement…the tall man was so handsome and lean, muscled and
powerful to look at. Yes, I was sure he was a centurion, for he carried a
military bearing about him.
And he wanted me.
He bargained strongly, forcefully, and solidus coins were given out to
my old master—how much did I sell for? I saw my old master smiling
and laughing, so, I must be a good price for him. And I almost wept
when he went off to sign the selling papers and not once did he look
back at me. He had owned me for years, and now, not even a goodbye
glance…my eyes filled with tears of sorrow, and a fly settled in the
corner of my left eye and I squinted it away. The tall man came for me.
My heart raced when I took eyes with him again. So handsome! Oh…so
The Golden Hour
Heat rating: 3 flames
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926647- 68-5
Print ISBN: 978-1-926647- 76-0
First loves never really go away. Let just get relegated to dreams…or nightmares.
In The Golden Hour sex is intoxicating, empowering and self-defining.
Sex is a tool and a weapon. It is also a reminiscence. Sarah and Malek had a passionate and destructive relationship. At their last encounter, they promised to meet twenty years later in that exact hour at their favorite restaurant in Nice. Now forty-two, Sarah waits at the Il Fortuna Cafe in the golden light of late afternoon Nice.
Will Malek be the same mysterious man he was? Will he still want her? Will he even come?
Sarah doesn’t mind the heat. She sits on the terrace of Il Fortuna, a small
café pinched into a corner of Old Nice, the same corner she sat in twenty
years ago. The café is mostly unchanged except for the large green
awning protecting the terrace from the oppressive sun. The old town has
a haunted, run-down feeling. Paint peels off its walls. Yellowed dust
cloths cover the furniture. The few people who still have business here
flit through the shadows of the afternoon like wraiths. Brightly colored
scarves protect their faces. Their footsteps ring out on the cobblestones,
an echo of when metal-shod horses cantered through the streets.
From the terrace, Sarah listens for these footsteps thinking, “Is that
him?” She tries not to peer down the winding lane, but inevitably gives
in to nervous curiosity. When it turns out not to be her date, she sits back
heavily in her chair, fiddles her napkin and checks her teeth for stray
lipstick in a cosmetic mirror.