Featured Author: D.L. Jackson

Today D.L. Jackson is sharing her awesome and exciting Blown Away series!


I got my start writing science fiction/military romance and the sub-genres have always been near and dear to my heart. In my opinion, there’s nothing sexier than a man or woman in uniform.

My Blown Away series is no exception, getting its inspiration from the men and women who serve in EOD, explosive ordnance disposal. It’s got sexy in spades.

I’m going to share some of my favorite scenes from the series.

*Below scenes contain sexual situations and graphic language*


Blown Away (#1) 

The door to the shower opened. 

MacKay turned, stared through the twisting steam, and found herself without breath. There Boomer stood in his pajama bottoms, chest bare. Her heart raced, pounding so hard against her ribs, she feared they may fracture. 

“What do you mean, don’t worry about them?” he demanded. 

What did she mean? She had to get the hell of here. No time for breakfast or further mistakes. 

“I’m going home.” She closed her lids and tried to ignore him, hoping he’d get the hint and shut the door.

 “I thought you were staying the night?” 

“I have too much to do in the office tomorrow.” MacKay opened her eyes again and did her best to pack her expression full of “we had a good time, now go away.” But the longer she held his gaze, the more she wanted to stay and dig herself deeper into trouble. Worse yet, something told her he wouldn’t back down. 

He didn’t say anything. As Boomer stepped into the shower, his PJ bottoms turned translucent. The thin fabric clung to his body and accentuated every muscle he possessed along with a hard cock she’d gotten more than familiar with through the night. Her stomach fluttered, and a small gasp escaped her lips. 

He slid his hands along both sides of her face and backed her against the tile wall, staring at her, hunger all over his face. “I warned you, I don’t do one-night stands.” He lowered his mouth to hers. No, she wasn’t leaving any time soon. 

MacKay ran her hands up his chest and around his neck. She should say no. She should push him out of the shower, get dressed, and leave. Both of them needed to forget this had even happened. And gods, he’d sounded serious about the one-night stand thing. Perhaps she’d been mistaken, and it meant more to him. She broke the kiss and leaned back. “Boomer, I’m—” 

“Pushing me away.” He leaned in and nipped her bottom lip, kissed the corner of her mouth, and stroked his thumb along her jaw. “Not going to let you.” 


He pressed his lips to her ear and spoke in Odroxian. She’d no clue what he said, but each word jolted through her body. Her heart slammed against her ribs, racing. The man would undo her. 

“Please. This isn’t a good idea.” 

“What isn’t a good idea? Letting go? Living? Loving? Feeling something for someone? The harder you push, the more I want to melt the slush moving through your veins and take away the pain I see all over your face. You’ve been too long inside the iron fortress you’ve erected. I’m going to knock those walls down and show you it’s okay to let someone in.” 

“I can’t.” But even as she said it, the walls he promised to knock down cracked. Her heart swelled, and breathing seemed impossible. 

“I don’t believe it. Because, when we made love, I saw a woman who could. Open up, Alice. Let me in.” 

“Don’t call me—” He leaned in and kissed her silent. MacKay surrendered her soul. She couldn’t deny the feelings growing inside her. She wanted him to knock down her walls, hold her, make her feel human again. She couldn’t fight the need or the hunger. Her hands slipped to his waistband and tugged the tie free. She pushed the fabric off his hips, and the water-laden pajama bottoms dropped to the tile.

Blown Away (#1)







Explosive Affairs (#2)

Happy trail: That sexy little strip of hair running from a man’s belly button to his—towel. Jenna stared at the fluffy white barrier blocking her view from traveling any farther south. She’d enjoyed the scenic route, visually devoured the hard ridges of his six-pack abs and the way the water trickled over his flesh while it took the path of least resistance. She shouldn’t stare. It was inappropriate to ogle the higher-ranking beefcake, but she couldn’t stop. What woman in her right mind would be able to?

He cleared his throat, and Jenna remembered her mission. She looked up. “Captain Rivers….” Gods he could stop a stampede with his stare. Jenna dropped her focus to something safer and began to examine the decking under his feet. Hard metal, gray. Nothing special. “Sir, I….” She swallowed, and her gaze drifted up, stopping on his midsection. He watched her, she could feel it, but Jenna couldn’t manage to bring her eyes up to his, no matter how hard she tried. So, she stared at his naked stomach, dying a little from embarrassment with each passing second. 

What an uncomfortable predicament. She’d been ordered to find the explosives ordnance officer, and find him she had. For the last fifteen minutes, Jenna had searched the ship, from the galley to the indoor gym. The Gold Digger’s head had been her last stop, and her timing couldn’t have been worse. Tyson Rivers, the ordnance officer, had stepped out of the cleansing unit as she’d entered. 

And she’d run head on into him.

No wonder he hadn’t been answering the com. The edge of the towel rode just under his hips, dipping where he’d tucked it in. Jenna bit her lip. “Sir, I’ve been sent—” 

“I’m up here.” A deep voice invaded her wet daydream. 

Jenna sighed. She could listen to him all day. 

Oh gods! She blinked. Up where? Her brain connected the verbal dots. What he’d said sank into the mushy gray matter between her ears, sending a jolt of horror rocketing through her body. Heat rushed to her face, and she lifted her chin to address the subject of every naughty dream she’d had on the ship since she’d boarded, and found herself without a coherent thing to say. Jenna opened her mouth, and all that came out was silence. What would be the appropriate thing to say in this situation? 

Nice towel? 

“Do you have a reason to be here, or do you make a habit of hanging out in the male showers?”

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Explosive Affairs (#2)







Bomb Voyage (#3) 

Sam. Any other Sam would be male and not a big pain in the ass. When Captain Jayson Rivers requested a mechanic, the Trios Mechanic’s Union told him they’d send the best. So naturally he hadn’t expected a redheaded solar storm—a one-woman, wrecking force with freckles sprinkled over a cute little button nose. A woman who diligently worked at dismantling his ship, making his much needed shower impossible.

“Fuck!” She flung a part from under the boiler. It rolled across the deck and hit the toe of his boot. 

Fuck? Did her eloquent choice of words mean he wasn’t getting his shower today? Time and patience weren’t on the agenda. He’d long since run out of both. “Is there a problem?” Jayson clamped his teeth to keep from growling.

“Working as fast as I can, sir,” her sweet voice called from under several tons of rugged metal. 

Deceptive, her voice. The woman underneath might look compliant, but he’d quickly discovered the opposite five minutes after she’d stepped her pretty ass onboard his ship and handed him her bags like he was some kind of valet on a pleasure cruiser. Bossy, yes. On her own schedule—most definitely. Stubborn—yeah. Opinionated—when didn’t she have one? Bendable, flexible, compliant—hell no.

Hmm, hmmm, hm, hm…. 

And not gifted with musical talent. 

Jayson braced for the inevitable. He knew what came next. She’d start to sing. Then the howling would commence, followed by several hours of strangled versions of what used to be some of his favorite songs. He’d endured enough. The woman had put him to the test for last two hours, and he wouldn’t abide another minute.


The boiler room dropped into blessed silence. He sighed deep and leaned back against the iron monster, which, if she’d done her job, would have heated the water for the cleansing unit. Instead, if one jumped inside to wash up, they were hit with icy blasts of mist, and though mist didn’t sound like a big thing, when the temperature sat close to freezing, you didn’t want it anywhere near your naked skin. 

With his ballistics officer and personal assistant away on their honeymoon, it didn’t take Jayson long to sink up to his pits in ordnance and Jenna’s administrative shit, doing the work of three people. Dealing with Tyson’s bomb inventory turned out to be a dirty job, and by the end of the week, he couldn’t stand his stench anymore. A good scrubbing was in order. Except he didn’t have any hot water.

The simple technology Sam tried to fix had existed for hundreds of years. Primitive, but most the time it ran, and in the past, if it went down, it only required a kick or two to bring it back online. The heating system had basic engineering behind it. The boiler captured cold air and extracted heat from it. Since the inside of the ship had live bodies, and the crew generated more heat than space, no matter how cold the air outside the ship, the interior would always be warmer. In addition, as long as the technology functioned normally, the boiler could extract the warmth and multiply it.

Then, if the piece of shit worked like it should, it would continue to recycle the air, drawing heat from it until the water in the boiler turned scalding hot. Man created the heat, the machine harvested it—simple enough technology. 

So why couldn’t she get the blasted thing to run? Jayson resisted abusing it more, not sure the toe of his boot could handle it, but damn, any time now would be good. He’d lived with the smell of his own funk and ice-cold sponge baths for four days now. He refused to go another day. Hence the reason he didn’t want to leave engine room, or at least that’s what he told himself.

Hmmm, hummmn, hum, hummmmmm. 

Jayson growled. Pretty soon she’d be in concert. He clamped his hands over his ears and not a second too soon. 

“Baby, ooooh babbbbbeeee…oooooooooo babeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy.”

Didn’t she ever lose her voice? 

Jayson cringed as the last high note shot up his spine—pretty damn sure it hit about five octaves too high on the musical scale. At least, if he remembered his songs correctly, it did—but he could be wrong. 

Jayson tipped his head side to side, cracking his neck. Before the tall redhead had arrived on his ship, he hadn’t thought anyone could sing that bad, the kind of awful which cracked glass, made dogs howl and small children cry. Hell, it could bring a grown man to tears.

“Come over hereeeeeeeeee! Woooo, woooo hooooo.” 

And then he’d met her. “Gods damn it, Rose! Enough.” 

“Oooo, oooo, ooooo, oh.” 

But she didn’t seem to hear him, or maybe she’d rendered herself deaf? Jayson looked down. Her boots poked out from under the heating system, and her toes tapped in cadence with whatever song she butchered and he tried his hardest to ignore. Attached to the boots was a pair of incredible long legs and a body which shouldn’t belong to a grease monkey. Ever since he saw those stilts, all he could think about was how they’d feel wrapped around him while he pounded into her.

“Did you want something, sir?” That sweet voice again. Yeah, she’d heard him all right.

“Work faster.” He shifted on his feet, trying to focus on something other than the bane of his existence and forbidden fruit. A captain didn’t touch his subordinates. He didn’t dream about them night and day, no matter how bad they sang, and he sure as hell didn’t get hard every time they passed him in the corridor and gave him a smile.

“Do you want me to work faster, or do you want it done right, sir?”

“I want to get into the cleansing unit sometime this week, and since this is the end of the week, today.”

“I’m not stopping you, sir.”

“I’m not taking a cold shower.” Though her suggestion did have merit, and the longer he stood there staring at her bare legs, the more sense it made.

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Bomb Voyage (#3)








Collateral Lives (#4) – Releases Friday, June 15th

Lesson one—don’t piss off your controller. 

Trouble staggered up from where Avery had thrown her, certain her backside would be black and blue in the morning. Rage burned through her, generated by Avery. It promised they’d have an intense workout—a very intense workout—and Avery had only just started.

“I said focus.”

She had the overwhelming urge to stick her tongue out, but the juvenile act would certainly be rewarded with another trip to the hard decking. She put her fists up. “I was focusing.”

“Not enough.”

“Stop that. I’m sick of you being in my head. For once, talk like a normal person.”

“I told you to use telepathy, and we’re not normal. Were linked and expected to use our link, and it means we train for it.”

“You fucking piss me off.”

The band tightened around her head, dropping her to her knees and wrenching the rebellion right out of her. 

“Don’t bring your filth to my temple,” he growled.

“Ease up.” Trouble placed a hand to her forehead and rubbed. “Please. I was kidding.” 

The pressure released. 

Avery had this thing about bodies and temples, and it hadn’t taken her long to learn he worshipped his. The man didn’t eat anything unhealthy, he exercised several times a day, and he didn’t like cursing. He wasn’t religious—or at least she hadn’t seen him practice any kind of faith. There were just some things he couldn’t abide, and cursing, she’d discovered, topped the list. She’d give anything to know the story behind his distaste of colorful language. A killer with manners—who’d have known?

“I told you, I don’t have a sense of humor.” 

“I thought you said to use telepathy?” Trouble couldn’t help goading him. She’d take her digs when she could, but not without cost. Sometimes she counted it a major score—other times, she should have left well enough alone. This time, she felt lucky, or perhaps his anger fueled her recklessness.

“I’m running out of patience, Devoe. When I start talking, it’s time for you to shut up and focus.”

Trouble dropped to her side. “All right, I get it. I need to be a good little girl or you’re going to spank my a—”

“Don’t say it.” He pointed at her. 

The intensity in his eyes reminded her of a caged predator at a zoo, daring someone to remove the barrier.

Trouble clamped her mouth shut, knowing if she pushed it any further, she’d have a miserable day. Avery would make sure she paid for her attitude with one bitch of a migraine, and it wouldn’t be the only reward for her misbehavior.

And oh, the many ways he could make her pay. Who thought EOD training would include long-distance running, which he claimed would build her endurance, enabling her to work on planets with a weak atmosphere or strong gravity. And then there was the martial arts, bruised backsides, and bloody lips and noses. Avery took it to the extreme and gave her the same treatment her enemy would—or so he claimed, since EOD was considered a primary target for anyone who didn’t want their bomb disarmed. And her favorite new skill—telepathy, designed to make her insane.

“It won’t make you insane if you learn how to use it, and the only way you’re going to learn, is to use it.”

“Oh, you read thoughts, too. Swell. How come I didn’t see it in the Welcome to Hell brochure?”

“I don’t have to read your thoughts when you project them at me. Conversation—over. Focus.”

“Aye, sir.” Crushing pressure filled her head, and she rolled to her hands and knees, using all her willpower to avoid crying out. Okay, she shouldn’t have pushed. Sometimes her mouth—brain—ran away from her.

“Get up.”

Trouble stood and braced her hands on her knees, doing her best to catch her breath.

“Put up your guard.” 

Back to verbal commands. Fantastic. What was it he’d said? When he started talking, it was time for her to shut up and do what he told her? Prick. She lifted her chin and glared at the bane of her existence. He caught her with a roundhouse kick to her jaw, sending her flying back to the hard floor with a loud oomph. Trouble blinked and stared at the ceiling, stunned, with little stars circling her head. The room did the wave, and she blinked again, bringing it back into focus. Ouch. She reached up and rubbed her jaw. Another bruise to go with the three dozen he’d already given her. Good thing she already had purple skin. Bastard.

She turned her head, and Avery lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling as she had been, also rubbing his jaw. Not without cost. Every lesson was a lesson for Avery, too. Trouble smiled. Served him right. Maybe she should punch herself in the lip.

“How’d that feel, big guy?”

“Wonderful.” He drew his knees to his chest and snapped to his feet. Avery cocked his head from side to side, cracking his neck. To look at him, one wouldn’t even know he’d been down and stunned moments before. “Get up.”

“Can we give it a break and practice basket weaving or something?”

“Get up.”

She did as ordered but took her time getting there. “I hate you.”

“Okay. Now put some of it into your attack and quit being a sissy.”

“First, tell me why we have to be linked if it makes us so vulnerable?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Don’t you get it? It’s the League’s way of ensuring our cooperation. You’re linked to me because of your crime—running. I’m linked to you because of my crime—mutiny. They designed our punishment to fit the offense. You can’t run no matter how bad you want, and if I don’t keep you alive and under control, the orders handed down to me, I die. So suck it up, princess, and put your guard up. This is going to hurt me as much as it does you.”

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Collateral Lives (#4)







Rebel Souls (#5)

This would be the only excuse the League needed to finish off the Rebels and bring their form of peace back to the galaxy. They always had a ship sitting outside every safe harbor, in this case, four, waiting for someone to slip up and give them a chance to take into custody any they considered revolutionaries.

The League restricted all traffic to and from the planet the metal was harvested from. What she’d hauled into Trios Port space was the last shipment smuggled out before the Regulators sealed the planet off tighter than a miser’s asshole. They didn’t want it out in the galaxy and were determined to take it upon themselves to police space. Both because of an embargo against the government of the mined planet for humanoid rights violations, and the unstable nature of the byproduct left after smelting, which could be used to create planet-crushing weapons and fuel for smugglers. Part of her believed the League wanted to keep the energy source for themselves. Who wouldn’t? With it, they could control most of the galaxy.

To get caught in League space with even one ounce of the substance would ensure twenty to life. Anything more and you were walking the proverbial plank, not to mention that the Rebels who took harbor on the planet to which you traveled would no longer be safe. Nobody wanted the unrefined metal or fuel byproduct on their world, or the people responsible for it. Ava had informed them she’d only do it once. She didn’t like moving the dangerous element around the chessboard and had only agreed because she owed friends a favor.

Some favor.

The skin of the Avira, her vessel, consisted of a little over fifty tons of the material. Add all that up and a backward ride, blind through a wormhole, looked pretty damned good.

She glanced down at the screen. A delay would help while she disengaged the rear engines and put the front thrusters online, but Uncle Theo was right, she needed to open the link. So she’d drag out the conversation until she had the engines fully engaged.

Ava lowered the zipper on her top, released her braid, and did a quick finger comb of the dark tresses she’d inherited from her Rebel father. One deep breath and she initiated the link. Ava gasped. “Oh damn.” The man on the screen before her fit her every fantasy and nightmare. Nice to look at with his earthy-brown hair, square jaw, and intense green eyes, but Ava knew appearances could be deceiving. Handsome or not, the man before her was dangerous, more trouble than she needed and the sooner she got out of his line of sight, the better.

“Your ship is out of compliance with regulation three-two-three of the Galactic Trade Agreement.” And he had to quote the damned regs in his smoking League uniform, giving her a visual feast of the forbidden, tempting her to throw her hands up and let him arrest her. Gods, it had been a long time since she’d seen a man like that. “And League regulation one-two-one.”

She blinked and snapped back to reality. “How’s that?” Ava disconnected the rear engines and flipped the control to the bow. She didn’t need to ask. She only did it to buy a little buy more time. Ava knew why she’d drawn the Regulator’s attention, but if she could delay a couple minutes, the Avira’s engines would be powered up, and they’d be gone before he could fire his cannons. “We’re not carrying anything in our hold that’s illegal. The ship is empty and headed for port for routine maintenance.” And to drop off an illegal load of ore. “We’re also not registered under League jurisdiction and therefore not subject to your Galactic Trade Agreement. Until you have the permission of the Trios Port government, you’ve no authority to detain us. Stand down and let us pass, Captain.”

What she’d said was a complete mind-fuck, and he knew it. The first clue, the Avira’s matte black paint job with a lack of registration, and it sure as the gods’ pit wasn’t because they were a Terran relief ship, the only vessel allowed to frequent space without registration. One glance at her and proved they weren’t on a mission of humanity, spreading love and peace, making amends for the destruction of their world.

Shaved heads and flagellation just weren’t her thing.

Neither was getting blown into space dust.

The paint covered any identifying mark, registering the Avira as a legally licensed freighter. Even if it didn’t, they were flying in League space, which gave him the right to search and seize. The League had an agreement with the Trios Port government, to protect their interests, more to a point, keep the port clear of criminals and those who would use the planet as an outpost for smuggling activities. The Avira might as well have been flying a Jolly Roger for all the laws they broke.

“Cut your engines and prepare your ship to be boarded.”

Yeah, like I’ll let that happen.

There were a lot of problems with that, the biggest being her uncle, catching a ride home. He’d retired a year ago and had gotten out of the family business. The League didn’t care. They were still jonesing to execute him for multiple crimes. She’d already lost her mother and father to the League’s hands—no way would she lose her uncle.

The engine-ready light on her panel illuminated, and she smiled. “Not that I wouldn’t like you to board,” she said as she eyed him with sincere appreciation. “I’ve got a sick grandmother at home and a basket of goodies to bring to her. Can I take a rain check on that, muffin?”

His expression didn’t change. Typical League officer. A regular by-the-regulation-never-break-or-stretch-the-rules kind of guy. So serious. In some areas of the galaxy, her looks got her out of a lot of trouble, but not here and not with him. What a waste of a dropped zipper. He hadn’t appeared to even take a peek. Maybe a little more incentive? She leaned forward giving him a great cleavage shot.

“Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded. We need to inspect your goodies.”

Ava sat back, crossed her arms, and raised a brow. “Isn’t that third date stuff?”

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Rebel Souls (#5)





Featured Author: Jessica E. Subject


Mars Squadron 17 #1

by Jessica E. Subject

Release date: May 25, 2018

Genres: Romance, Science Fiction, New Adult, Coming of Age

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-988428-09-3

Editor: Kate Richards

Cover artist: Fantasia Frog Designs

Keywords: romance, science fiction, new adult, space travel, coming of age, Mars colony, futuristic

word count: 25,500


Staff Sergeant Hannah Coriveau dedicated the last five years to the Space Military Command. Heading back to Earth, she’s ready to begin civilian life and reunite with her parents and the boyfriend she left behind. The person she’ll miss most is Garish—her wingman, best friend, and the one who made her regret not being single.

Senior Airman Colin Garish wants his squadron leader. Bad. After spending so much time by her side—both in the Martian skies and on the red planet—being her friend isn’t enough. When Hannah learns of her boyfriend’s infidelity, Colin is there to comfort her.

Before Colin has the chance to confess his feelings, Hannah receives worse news from home. Her father is dying. Seeing her devastation, Colin remains the friend she desperately needs. But in her grief, she pushes him away. Will Hannah let him back in her life when they land on Earth? Or will Colin never get the chance to win her heart?


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The shuttle lurched as it landed on the runway, jerking Hannah forward against her restraints. She and her crew had finally reached their destination. Earth’s moon. So close to home, and yet still so far away. With her mission almost over, she looked forward to outlasting the rest of the squadron during physical therapy then returning to the ones she loved. But first, she had to complete shutdown procedures. She pulled down levers and flicked off switches in unison with the rest of the squadron. A well-rehearsed dance they’d perfected when landing on Mars. This time, they flowed through the sequence with ease, as if they landed space shuttles every day.

The engine slowed in its vibrations until it stopped for the first time in two hundred and fifty days. Powered down. But tremors still quaked through Hannah’s body from the inertia. While the squadron waited for the noxious fumes to be blown away, she dreamed of sleep. Just a few hours to rest before she started reconditioning her body for Earth’s gravity. She’d tried to nap while in the crew quarters, but they’d been too close to their lunar landing for her to relax. Ramped up on energy for the past twenty-four hours, her excitement now wore thin, coming down from the rush.

And what was with Colin’s marriage proposal? He knew she had a boyfriend already. Was he delirious? Or maybe very homesick.

“Staff Sergeant Coriveau, is your squadron ready to depart the shuttle?”

Hannah glanced at four eager faces, guys she’d spent the last five years with. “As ready as we’ll ever be, Chief. We’re all very anxious to get back home.” And have a shower. Eat better meal bars. Sleep.

“In time, Staff Sergeant. We’re ready to open the shuttle doors.”

“Understood. See you soon.”


Jessica E. Subject is the author of science fiction romance, mostly alien romances, ranging from sweet to super hot. Sometimes she dabbles in paranormal and contemporary as well, bringing to life a wide variety of characters. In her stories, you can not only meet a sexy alien or two, but also clones and androids. You may be transported to a dystopian world where rebels are fighting to live and love, or to another planet for a romantic rendezvous.

When Jessica is not reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to go to fitness class, listen to BTS, and walk her Great Pyrenees/Retriever her family adopted from the local animal shelter.

Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at jessicasubject.com.


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Featured Author-Molly Evans

Alpha Wolf, book one, releases today.

Buy Link on Amazon

Not all men are bad… Strong, independent, and happy on her own, Hillary has grown from the naïve person she was four years ago after a brutal rape turned her into a werewolf. The normal life she’s made for herself is only upset once a month when the moon calls to her and she has an uncontrollable urge to turn furry and chase small creatures. And she doesn’t need a man for that. Until she finally meets another werewolf, this one a gorgeous, sexy guy who is determined to change her mind about one furry man in particular–him. No, some men are very, very good… The minute Zach scents Hillary he knows she’s the mate he’s been searching for. Though both the wolf and the man are itching to claim her, first he has to convince her that he’s one of the good guys, and that there are certain benefits to being an alpha werewolf. And there’s no better way of making Hillary see that, than giving her himself—body, mind, and soul.

Featured Author : Maddie Taylor

Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4)

Click here to purchase on Amazon




With one look he stirs something deep inside her.
A single touch is all it takes for her to awaken his soul.

She has a mission.
He has a duty.

He is her captor.
She is his destiny.

Fate draws them together, but danger and deceit will wrench them apart. Can they find their way back to one another while doing what they must to save their people? Or, will treachery keep them from claiming their happily forever after?


Lana Hartman intends to find a new planet for the desperate people of Earth to call home, but this explorer-turned-colonist is about to get more than she bargains for in the form of a seven-foot-tall alpha alien with enigmatic eyes and a devastating smile. Chased, manhandled, and carried off over a broad, muscular shoulder, Lana soon finds herself claimed as the gorgeous warrior’s lifelong mate.

Together, they are explosive. The primal male awakens something deep within Lana and proves himself quite skilled at bringing her to the most mind-blowing orgasms. But love isn’t enough for the beauty to abandon her mission.

Fate draws them together, but danger and deceit will wrench them apart. Can they find their way back to each other while doing what they must to save their people? Or, will treachery keep them from claiming their happily forever after?

Defying the General is book 4 in The Primarian Mates Series but may be read and enjoyed as a standalone HOT sci-fi romance!


Amazon  https://amzn.to/2vj6ao3

New Release through Decadent Publishing



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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0791CDSQQ/ 

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/turning-the-tide/id1335526123


After a year of unemployment, Daphne Wells comes to Wiccan Haus to learn hydrotherapy for a new career as a healer. When her assigned patient turns out to be the sexy ex-boss who laid her off, resentment gets in the way of healing.

Giovanni Denaro arrives at Wiccan Haus, desperate to find a cure for the debilitating tension that threatens his high-level financial career. But after some intimate healing sessions, everything loses value except his need for Daphne’s forgiveness.

When a mermaid, filled with her own bitterness, offers Daphne a chance to get revenge on the man who ruined her life, will she dare to turn the tide?


Turning the Tide: A Siren’s Revenge – Copyright © Decadent Publishing, 2018

Daphne’s heart accelerated, throbbing against the darkness around her. Much like her life, she couldn’t control anything on this lousy island, including the elevators. Next time, she’d take the stairs—if there were any.

Her senses converged on warm fingers, feather soft, brushing her cheek. Gripping more firmly. Harder. Then the mouth. Oh God, the mouth.

Giovanni’s lips followed the pattern of his fingers. Brushing softly at first. Then pressing into her flesh until she opened to him. When she stepped backward, her spine contacted the elevator wall. The handrail dug into her waist while his torso covered the front of her. His hands felt so hot on her bare shoulders. So why did she shiver?

How could she have forgotten how good he smelled? Warm and slightly spicy. Not like a high-level executive but best friend-turned-lover. Craving more, she inhaled to the depths of her lungs.

She heard and felt his fast, deep breaths, too. Oxygen rushed through her lungs, matching his pace. The small space they stood in had no boundaries. Walls, arms, hearts. They were all one.

“We c-can’t—” she uttered when she managed to twist her head away.

“Yes, we can,” he whispered. “We are.”

She’d forgotten how persuasive he could be. Despite its softness, his voice commanded her the way it did executives in the boardroom.

After drawing her closer, he inserted his tongue between her lips. It felt as if every muscle in her face had let go. She couldn’t keep him out—not that she wanted to.

You can’t stop me. I dare you to try.

Where readers can find me

Afton Locke is a USA Today Bestselling Author who prefers romantic fantasies to everyday reality. Fantasies take her to different times, races, places, and beyond. She lives with her husband, several unnamed dust bunnies, and a black cat that can be scary or cuddly, depending on the current book. When she’s not writing, Afton enjoys hiking, cooking, reading, and watching retro T.V.

Newsletter: http://www.aftonlocke.com/mailing-list.html

Web sitehttp://www.aftonlocke.com


Twitter: http://twitter.com/aftonlocke

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Afton_Locke

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/aftonlocke

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0791CDSQQ/

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/turning-the-tide/id1335526123



Featured Author: Elsa Kurt

The Awkward Woman’s Guide to Dating (after divorce)

Sexy. Funny. Awkward.
When thirty-something year old, mother of two, former stay-at-home mom Keira Travis finds herself single for the first time in her adult life, she jumps right in…to one hysterical disaster after another. With a little help from her friends (and one very snarky narrator) Keira navigates through the messy world of ‘adulting’ with a sense of humor (and a whole lot of awkwardness!). The Awkward Woman’s Guide To Dating (After Divorce) is one part comedy, one part romance, and an all-around good time!

Finding Beauty

“I am NOT an Expert” I use this disclaimer regularly in my motivational blog post because, well, it’s true. I’m not an expert in anything. I’m just living a really great, happy life and I want to share with you how I got here.
This little book is filled with inspiration, motivation and encouragements from someone who failed and succeeded, loved and lost, raised children, been married and divorced, and not only survived but THRIVED despite life’s curve balls.
Whether you’re looking for a pep talk or something deeper, look no further. Join me in finding the beauty in the imperfections of life!
Author info
Elsa Kurt is a multi-genre, indie published author to several children’s books (written as Melanie Cherniack), a book of empowerment & inspirations based on her life, as well as contemporary women’s fiction novels. Into the Everwood is her first novel. She is a lifelong New England resident and married mother of two grown children. Join her in ‘Finding Beauty in the Imperfections of Life’. at: http://www.elsakurt.com
 Follow Elsa on social media:

Featured Author-Elsa Kurt

Amazon Link

“A Modern Day Fairy-Tale For the Ages…”
Step through a mysterious door in the heart of a strange forest, and into a world like no other. Two small-town kids: Seventeen year old Mala: a strong-willed, self-described misfit. Jaime: her tall, handsome best friend. He’s the brooding rebel boy that all the girls love, but only has eyes for Mala, and she’s the girl looking to escape her mundane small town life.
When Jaime tells Mala about the door in the Everwood, she is certain it leads to an adventure, despite his insistence that it leads nowhere. Though he’s reluctance, he follows her back to the door in the dark of night. So begins an epic adventure or terror and thrills, with creatures great and terrible. Will they survive? Can they ever return from this strange world? Will Mala ever realize how much Jaime loves her? So many questions, so much to discover in… Into the Everwood.


Note from the Author ~ “Within a few days I’ll be releasing this new and improved version (which includes the first four chapters of Book Two, Out of the Everwood!) so stay tuned!”




At last they were alone, standing side by side facing the curtain of silvery green leaves that separated them from the retreating night beyond. Absently she reached up and pressed one surprisingly cool leaf between her fingertips, caressing the smooth surface with her thumb. This was a moment she didn’t even know she been waiting her whole life for, and now, here it was, and she was tongue tied and shy.

She snuck a glance up at him, and felt a catch in her throat. He was as beautiful- no, more so- as he was in her dreams, but now close and in minute detail. High cheekbones, strong jaw line, straight Grecian looking nose, and faint lines at the corner of his eye that she knew would deepen when he smiled. His long, dark blonde hair had the highlights of one who’d spent a lifetime in the sun, his skin, a golden hue. His physique was hidden mostly by the garment he wore, but she could still recall how muscular he appeared in her dreams.

“This must be a shock for you. I am sorry.”

His voice was deep and quiet, his words slow and careful,  warm and rich,

like honey. She sighed, and could feel him looking down at her. But she stared hard at the leaf in her hand, tracing with her eyes the jagged veins on its narrow surface,  and willing herself not to cry.

It was the ‘I’m sorry.’ She was never much a fan of those words, sometimes they hurt as much as the offense that pre-empted them. ‘Sorry’ made her feel,and she worked so damn hard to not. So, she clenched her jaw, wrapped her arm, the one not fidgeting with the leaf, across her body and dug her nails into the back of her upper arm.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. But the telltale prickling sensation began behind her eyes and the leaf became a watery blur, and though she tried not to blink out a drop, one fat tear slid down the curve of her cheek, hot and betraying.

What she could not know, was that Makis’ heart was pained as well, more than even he could believe. This girl, this human, had captivated him for time beyond measure. Lifetimes. Yet he could be no more than an observer of her life, and not a participant. What cruel rules they lived by, both Gods and men…


About the Author ~ Elsa Kurt is a multi-genre, indie published author to several children’s books (written as Melanie Cherniack), a book of empowerment & inspirations based on her life, as well as contemporary women’s fiction novels. Into the Everwood is her first novel. She is a lifelong New England resident and married mother to two grown children. Visit her website, elsakurt.com, and join her in ‘Finding Beauty in the Imperfections of Life’. Follow Elsa on social media: Facebook & Instagram: @authorelsakurt

Featured Author – Misty Burke

Product details

Paperback: 92 pages

Publisher: lulu.com (June 12, 2017

The Genie of the Portrait by Misty Burke is an erotic version of an old classic…
“Your wish,” the masculine voice spoke again, “and your pleasure, are my command.”
Amanda slowly turned her head to find her picture-perfect gentleman standing in a darkened corner. “Did I fall and hit my head?” The question hung in the air.
“I do not believe so,” he walked closer into the candlelight. “I am the Genie of the Portrait.”
Amanda shook her head in confusion. Whoever, or whatever he was, he looked even more handsome than the man in the drawing. He was tall and built. His old-fashioned clothes added a certain sensuality to his appearance as did his rugged facial features that were topped with jet-black hair. “And do I get three wishes?” she whispered in hopes that this luscious mirage would not up and disappear.
“Three nights,” his voice was laced with a faint British accent, “and then my portrait will be no more.”


Author website – http://www.mistyburke.com/

Purchase on Barnes & Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-genie-of-the-portrait-misty-burke/1030288475?ean=9781365994685

Featured Author: Bonnie Dee

The Masterpiece by Bonnie Dee

Buy link


Built from the bottom up: one perfect gentleman.

Man about town Arthur Lawton spends his days pursuing entertainment while shoeshine Joe Sprat labors to better his family’s lives. When an argument about nature versus nurture sparks a wager, Arthur swears to a friend he can turn this working man into a gentleman who will pass at a society function.

Joe is happy to participate in the experiment for a fee but receives more than he bargained for after moving into Lawton’s house. Arthur is determined Joe won’t merely wear a veneer of sophistication but educates him in every way. As he creates his new and improved man, Arthur grows more deeply infatuated with him, while Joe falls equally hard for his charismatic mentor.

Underneath a growing friendship, desire simmers and one day explodes. After their relationship escalates, the pair exists in a dream bubble until the threat of exposure sharply reminds them they belong in different worlds. When the ball is over, each must resume his own life, changed by their encounter but destined for different courses.

Find out if love is strong enough to bridge the gap between peer and pauper in this take on My Fair Lady.

Order Ebook at Amazon.com Order Ebook at Barnes & Noble Order Ebook at Kobo Books Order Ebook at iBooks

Featured Authors – Lauren Baker and Bonnie Dee

Featured Authors today are Lauren Baker and Bonnie Dee with their book Finding Home.


Forbidden passion blooms on the gritty street.

Copy editor Megan works to make her journalistic dreams come true, but her piece on homeless teens brings unexpected consequences. A hustler with the street name Mouth rocks her to the core with his sad story, world weary air, and overwhelming magnetism.

Mouth aka Sean has dreams of his own, big plans to rise above his circumstances and forge a real career. When he’s beaten and his hard-earned savings stolen, he accepts Megan’s offer of a place to stay for a while.

A passionate affair is the last thing either intends. The power dynamic is wrong, the gap in their ages is wrong, and yet sexual attraction crackles between them like a slow burning fuse. When it finally explodes the impossible relationship exposes Megan to criticism from all sides. Meanwhile, Sean’s inner turmoil reaches a boiling point of its own as he doubts his worth and wonders if he’s being used yet again.

Can real love grow from such a beginning or are Megan and Sean fooling themselves that an ill-fated love can last?



Read an excerpt

Megan looked at the boy under the awning, bathed in the glow of pink neon. He shifted his back against the wall, finding a more comfortable position, and drew a long drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke out in a thin, steady stream through his nose.

It had been two years and one month since Megan’s last cigarette and the nicotine craving still ached like a sore tooth sometimes. Watching his sensual enjoyment of the cigarette awakened more than one kind of desire in her. She drew a deep breath and walked up to him. “Hi. Remember me from, uh, last night?”

He slid a sideways glance at her.

“That boy Ricky said you could help me with something. It’s a writing project I’m working on.”

He looked away from her without answering. Either he was considering speaking or waiting for her to give up and walk away.

“I’m a reporter. I just want an interview. That’s all. Really.”

“What are you reporting?” He stared at the street, dropping the hand with the cigarette to his side.

“I’m writing about street kids, how they get in that situation and what they do to survive.” When the boy turned and looked through her with his cool blue eyes, Megan’s idea for her article suddenly sounded completely stupid. How could she understand his life from asking a few questions? But she was here and she had his attention. Bracing herself, she plunged on. “I have a few questions about your background, a little about your daily life and what your hopes are for your future.”

He snorted in derision.

“If you prefer the interview to be confidential, we could go to that diner.” She gestured down the street. “I’ll buy you dinner. You answer my questions. Quick and painless.” She smiled.

“How much?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fifty bucks for twenty minutes. My time is valuable.”

“Um.” Megan calculated the cash she had available and what bills she needed to pay. “I can give you, uh, twenty.” He seemed to be considering so she added, “Plus the meal. It’s all I can afford.” The ethics of paying for an interview were questionable, but she decided this was a one-time transaction.

His gaze slowly wandered over her from head to foot.

Megan wanted to wrap her arms around her body to cover it.

Finally he nodded. “Okay.”

“Great.” It sounded way too enthusiastic. She repeated in a less spunky tone, “Great.”

This young man was so self-possessed he made her feel like a child. He strolled toward the restaurant with long, easy strides. Megan had to walk quickly to keep up.

She sat across from him in the booth, torn vinyl scratching the back of her legs. Inside the diner, she could see the boy more clearly than in patches of neon and shadow. His eyes seemed a brighter shade of blue in the fluorescent light. He scanned the menu and placed his order. The strappy, once-white T-shirt he wore showed off his well-defined arm muscles when he passed the menu back to the waitress. The material of the shirt molded to his chest, outlining the bump of each nipple pressing against it.

Megan quickly lifted her gaze back to his face.

He stared at her, eyes flat and calm as a lake on a hot summer day.

She could read nothing in them and wondered what he could possibly be thinking of her.

“You have questions?” he prompted.

“Oh, uh, right.” Megan pulled out her notebook and a small recorder from her purse. “You don’t mind if I tape this? It’s easier than writing everything down.”

He considered a moment then nodded.

She pressed the button and spoke. “Interview with…Mouth. White male, age…?”


“Can you tell me a little about your family and your parents?”

“There was just my mom.” He didn’t offer anything else. Megan began to understand why Ricky had laughed when he suggested Mouth for an interview. He wasn’t a talker.

“How did you come to be on your own?”

“My mom was an addict. After we got evicted, there didn’t seem to be much point in sticking around anymore. I could take care of myself better than she could.”

“You didn’t have any relatives to stay with?”

“No. I stayed at a friend’s place for a while, but I couldn’t live there forever. Then I hooked up with some other kids who live in this abandoned building.”

“What about a foster home? Did you consider that?”

He stared at her for a second like she was stupid. “No. I’d rather be on my own.”

“How did you reach the point of,” she searched for a polite way to phrase the question, “considering prostitution as a source of income?”

“Some of the kids I knew were whoring, but I wouldn’t at first. I was sure I could find a job. But the days went on and I had no money. This kid, Donnie, convinced me sucking cock was a pretty simple way to make fifty bucks. So one night I did it.”

Megan swallowed. “How did you feel about it?”

“I didn’t feel anything. He was right. It wasn’t such a big deal and I had enough money to eat for a few days.” His voice was perfectly steady and emotionless.

Megan felt the cold reality of his answer hit her in the chest. Jesus, what kind of a life was that for a kid? She stared at her notepad, scribbling a few words, afraid he might see the pity in her eyes. “So how old were you when you did that? When you first sold sex?”


He hadn’t been on the game all that long then. Megan remembered what she’d been like at sixteen when the whole focus of her life was school, she had an unrequited crush on the captain of the football team and her knowledge of sex was still mostly theoretical except for a little fumbling with Ray Marsden at a house party one summer evening. And even then, nothing much had happened.

“May I ask about your early sexual experiences?” She referred to her list of questions. “How old were you when you first had sex?”

“Fourteen.” Again, his answer was succinct, and Megan had to ask him to elaborate.

“Kristina Taylor. Eighth grade formal. In back of the gym. Less than five minutes.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“Embarrassed. But she was cool about it and it was better the next time and even better after we’d had more practice.” There was a hint of humor in his tone despite his blank face.

“When did you realize you were gay?”

“I’m not.”

Megan paused, taken by surprise. “But your clients are male.”

“What I do is work. Doesn’t mean I like it. You know anybody who works at McDonald’s and loves the job?” He smiled slightly for the first time.

“True.” She returned his smile.

The waitress returned with Mouth’s meal and a soda for Megan, who turned off the recorder.

The boy tore into the burger, his jaws bulging as he chewed an oversize mouthful. He didn’t look at her as he methodically ate his way through the food, chased by great gulps of soda.

Megan wondered when he’d last eaten.

If it bothered him to be watched, he gave no sign of it, but then anyone who engaged in intimate acts with strangers on a daily basis must have long ago lost all self-consciousness.


For more books by Bonnie Dee visit http://www.bonniedee.com

For more books by Lauren Baker visit http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1166852.Lauren_Baker