Wicked Pens are proud to announce…

welcome allie


Allie lives in Southern Illinois, right in the middle of Smalltown, USA. When she isn’t enjoying fun family time, making wine, crafts, baking, music, and reading, she’d busy creating new worlds and unforgettable characters who will always get a happily ever after ending.

Here is one of Allie’s Book links:


CamdenPlace Amazon





Jessica finally focused on him and met his gaze.

Dylan saw fear, as well as unshed tears, in her beautiful blue-green eyes. And the overwhelming desire of rip the throat out of the guy who had put it there burned through him like a firestorm. Then he pulled it under control. She was his main focus. Gaining her trust and protecting her were his main objectives.

“Am I ever going to be normal again?”

“Yes.” I’ll make sure of it. “Did you hurt anything when you fell?”

He scooped her into his arms and stood as if she weighed nothing.

“Just my pride. I’m naked.” She tried to cover her breasts.

He wished she didn’t.

“Yes, I noticed that, too. Relax.”



“Where are you taking me?”

It didn’t matter as long as she stayed in his arms. He could walk miles through the snow with her in his arms. “Near the fire.”

Her skin beneath his hands was cool and hot at the same time. Her softness seemed to melt into him. He heard her heart beat. The soft scent of her lavender soap Charlotte had obviously brought her along with fresh pajamas filled him and made his mouth water with the need to taste her. His cock was suddenly so hard and straight, it could help him hold her in his arms.

“I shouldn’t let you hold me.”

Funny, she didn’t sound at all as if she wanted him to let her go. Still, he asked, “Why not?”

“Because I don’t really know you, no matter how good it feels when you touch me.”

So it’s good when I touch you?

“Besides,” she went on, “You could be my abductor, and I’d never know.”

He wondered when the last time was she took one of her pain pills, and if it was medication talking now, not that he cared. “I’m not.”

“How would I know you aren’t him?”

“Because when I want a woman, I tell her.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. He’d wanted Jess from the first moment he’d seen her, and he hadn’t told her. Not yet.

“Is that so?”

Gently he laid her down on the closest chaise to the fire in the hearth and stepped back, his hands suddenly cold without her. She still used her hands to cover her breasts. He ached with the need to grasp her wrists and move her hands away. He looked deeply into her eyes. “When I look into her eyes, she’ll know.”

She stared back him. He hoped to hell she knew he wanted her.

“I’ll make her feel beautiful when I look at her.”

She swallowed hard. He saw her Adam’s apple move with the brunt of it, and he knew she understood. He almost smiled, but the last thing he wanted was to burst the bubble he’d suddenly built around them. “I’ll make her feel wanted not tortured with every touch, and I won’t forcibly take anything she isn’t willing to give.”

“You can really do all that?”

He thought he’d already showed her when he kissed her and drank from her and touched her and held her as she slept in the hospital. But apparently, he needed to show her more. He needed to keep showing her. He liked that idea. “Close your eyes and turn over. I’ll show you.”

She was going to refuse. He saw her refusal in her eyes. In a flash, it was gone, and she carefully rolled over. Her actions were slightly clumsy, given the weight of the cast on her foot. He swallowed hard, wanting to savor this moment. Yet, at the same time, he was terrified if he didn’t move, she’d change her mind and slip from his grasp.

He took a pillow and propped it under her injured foot. Then he took in her smooth back, her skin was perfect except for the bruise on her right shoulder. He worked it ignore it. He refused to allow his rage and his need for vengeance against her abductor to mar this moment. No, this moment was about her. For her.

She wanted to feel normal.

He planned, hoped, to make her feel beautiful as he slid his fingers across her skin as if to test the feel of her.

“Are your eyes closed?” He knew they were, but he wanted her to trust him.

In the span of a heartbeat, she whispered, “Yes.”

“You’re as tight as the horsehair on a violin bow,” he muttered. Beneath his palms, her skin was warm and softer than he imagined. He moved his hands in a balanced pressure of not too hard and still kneading her muscles. As he massaged her, he fell into rhythm, sliding across her shoulders and down her back in mirrored circles. He felt air enter her lungs. He felt the beat of her heart. He felt the tremble his touch sent through her.

“What would you know about a violin bow?”

“I used to play.”


Dylan continued his symphony of touch. In every flex of his fingers, every rub of his palms, he wanted her to feel desired, as well as comfortable. He hoped to rub out of her the tension and fear and apprehension an unknown assailant had easily slipped into her. Carefully, he moved her hair out of the way. He could have spent a few seconds relishing in the soft silkiness of her locks, but he’d have to save that for another time. Right now he concentrated on her way her skin warmed beneath his touch.

“Mmmhumm.” Her soft purr was music to his ears and was harmonized by the crackle of the fire.

He leaned close. “Relax. You are safe. You will always be safe with me.” He gave into the wild urge to simply place his lips on her, to feel her softness with his lips again. It wasn’t exactly a kiss. It wasn’t really a taste because his tongue and his teeth never came close. It was merely a hot touch.

Yet, it connected him to her.

He didn’t allow himself to enjoy the moment. Nor did he give into his urge to slide her hot pink panties out of the way take his massage to a lower, more intimate level. There was no sense to losing the distance he was gaining no matter how much his dick wanted to get lost in her. This was about helping her, not giving into his own wants. He simply continued to give to her with each press of his fingertips.


He had to clear his throat. “Yes?”

“I need more than your fingers. Please.”

Hell, she didn’t even sound dopey from any pain medication. He had to pull in two deep breaths before he could reply. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” The last thing either of them needed was any regret. Jess had enough emotional baggage to carry. He didn’t want to add to it.

“I want it. I need it. I need you. Please. Make love to me. Whisper in my ear. Touch me with your lips. If you don’t, I think I might die.”

There was no way he could deny his mate. Ever.

A new release by Angora Shade

Congratulations Angora Shade on your new release The Queer Collection….


A Blurb…

Four stories of gay and lesbian erotica and romance await you in this compilation of Angora Shade’s best short stories. There’s something for all tastes, ranging from sweet romance to hot and spicy encounters. From drive bars to city buses, military uniforms to theatre costumes, you’ll find it all in this exciting collection.

Why not one click here and start reading now?

The Queer Collection Amazon

Wicked Pens are proud to announce

welcome muirghein


“Be serious? Seriously? Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

A fan of books and reading from around the fourth grade on, I have devoured a huge library of published works by a vast variety of authors in a dozen genres. This leads me to the simple fact that I love to read. If I love to read, I must love to write, stands to reason. So, I gave it a try right out of high school. Let’s simply say the results were not great.

While at that time I did possess a greater knowledge of technical grammar than I do now, what I lacked was the seasoning of life. I had not lived and was trying to write about life. And that lack of “seasoning” showed clearly in a dozen rejections and some humbling comments from people who edited/proofread for me.

So I let it lie, still reading like a fiend anything I could get my hands on. Sci-Fi/fantasy was my go-to choice, but I read all types of stories. Westerns, classics, murder mysteries you name it, I would give it a look. I also began to gather to me a collection of erotica novels, the better part of them Victorian style, published under Anonymous. Those were harder to find on the used book store shelves than Piers Anthony and Robert E. Howard. That difficulty, in the end lead me to a website. Literotica.

I went there. Read the stories. Enjoyed what I read, some of it anyway. And, around my fortieth birthday, I began to think of giving writing a try again.

Since then, I have posted more than a hundred stories. I’ve won contests, wrote stories that stand in that website’s Hall of Fame and have earned myself a place in the Top 250 Author’s List on what is the largest erotica website online.

But more than that, I made friends. Other erotica writers, without whose support you would not now be reading this, short bio. Their enjoyment of my writing and encouragement has given me the confidence to attempt to go even further with my writing. Beyond my comfort zone, to distant unsighted shores, to places where the waters are no long familiar and even the stars are strange. That’s where I’m going; come join me.

Please see an excerpt from one of Muirghein’s books…



My Observations

# One Anyone can be a writer.

You have the same opportunities that any big name writer you have ever heard of had. Every one of them stood where you stand now, a want-to-be writer. Simply a dreamer with a dream, and a voice longing to be heard. To make those dreams come true, you have to write. And to make that voice be heard … well, you have to work till your eyes burn, your brain hurts, and your fingers are numb. Remember this, the only thing that can hold you back is yourself.

# Two Writing is a Job, which means it takes “Work.”

At no point in the life of a writer (be it a person who simply wants to write as a hobby or a multimillion-dollar best-selling author) will you ever have enough time to do what you wish to do. You must find that time, make that time, or chisel that time free from other places. And when you get that writing time, you must work. Those precious moments are minutes of your life you are dedicating to making a dream come true. Do not waste them.

Also, know that your only reward for all that time and hard work will be–(like most jobs)–more work. But it can become the job you love to wake up and go do.

# Three Understand that being a writer is not a reward.

You were not given a piece of paper that said, “This person is a writer.” No one got together and determined if you deserved that title. Your actions, I’ll say it again, your actions are moving you forward as a writer.

No matter what the end goal you have in mind is … it will be you that gets you there. Or not …

“99% of all writers kill their own dream of becoming a writer.”- Jim Butcher

# Four Writing is not a solution, but it can become a problem.

There is no cake walk. There is no free lunch. If being a writer is what you want to be, then be it, but don’t expect it to take care of all that you want to take care of. Most mainstream writers hold a second job or have a spouse that supports their endeavor financially.

Yes, there are writers that do nothing but write and they bring in large sums of money. I’m sure you know a handful of them … because that is about all of them there are.

And that level of writing is a life commitment. You put your soul into it. It becomes what you wake up in the morning for. Ever have heard of people that have taken small companies and made them into huge mega-million dollar corporations? They worked from their garages. Mortgaged their houses, bet the whole farm on a roll of the dice. Their marriages sometimes suffered, their families looked at them like they had gone mad. But in the end, they made it big.

But for as many that made it, ten times that number failed.

Now, knowing those odds, and realizing it takes that level of commitment and equally that level of not knowing what the end of the day may bring, why write? Why try? Because all that you can hope for is that, in the end, you leave the world with something like this to remember you by.

“Till shade is gone, till water is gone,

into the Shadow with teeth bared,

screaming defiance with the last breath,

to spit in Sightblinder’s eye on the last Day.” –an Aiel Oath, The Wheel of Time series, by Robert Jordan

“Step right up and shoot the pasties off the nipples of a ten-foot bull dyke! Win a cotton candy goat!”– by Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.” –Friedrich Nietzsche

“To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell’s heart, I stab at thee; For hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.” –Herman Melville

Want to read more?

Click below to start reading now…

Buy Link: 100ObservationsOnWriting Amazon

Please see link for more information on M. S. Tarot:

Wicked Pens M. S. Tarot

Wicked Pens are proud to announce

welcome pandora


Pandora Spocks is a sassy ginger and hopeless romantic, living her happily ever after in South Florida.

Pandora has had stories pinballing around in her head for years. At one point, she spent hours daydreaming in Mrs. Howe’s ninth grade algebra class. She didn’t learn much algebra, but she had some really good ideas. Recently she decided to try her hand at sharing those stories with others.

She enjoys reading and writing literary erotic romance. She is the author of the three-novel epic romance Rannigan’s Redemption, and a naughty little romantic novella, Just One Night. Lost & Bound joins Luke & Bella as the second book in The Dream Dominant Collection, a series of light BDSM stand-alone novels.

Pandora is currently at work on her next spicy romance.

Here is an excerpt from one of Pandora’s books…



“Looking for this, baby girl?”  Luke was leaning against the bathroom counter, completely dressed in faded jeans and a grey t-shirt, a fluffy white towel folded in his hands.  He placed the towel on the floor.

“I’ll be back in one minute.  Be in the ready position here,” he said firmly, indicating the towel on the floor.  “Don’t bother drying off.”  With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Bella stood blinking for a moment then stepped out of the shower.  She knelt on the towel, water dripping all over the floor, and tried to relax.  Her heart was pounding.  His tone had been quiet and intense.  She wondered what he had in mind and, struggling to calm her thoughts, she closed her eyes and waited.

She heard him return, opened her eyes briefly and saw his bare feet, then closed her eyes again.  He walked around her slowly then stopped in front of her and pulled her head to his leg, stroking her hair gently.

“Good morning, baby girl,” he purred.  “How are you feeling today?”

Keeping her head down, Bella answered, “I’m well, Sir.”

He gripped her chin roughly and forced her head up.  “I’ve told you, baby girl, that I want to see your eyes.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“The reason I ask about how you’re feeling is that you had a rough night last night.  You got drunk and you conducted yourself in a most disrespectful manner.  Would you agree?”  As he asked, he slipped his belt around her neck and pulled it snug.

She blinked and hesitated.  “Um, yes, Sir, I had a lot to drink,” she said.

“As my baby girl, it’s your position to reflect well on me in public.  Would you agree?” he asked.  “Lift your hands.”  He dropped the end of the belt and secured her hands in front of her using the belt from her robe.

“Um, yes, Sir,” she answered.

“You’ve seen enough.”  He covered her eyes with the tie he’d worn that night in Edinburgh.

“And did you do that last night, baby girl?  Did you reflect well on me?” he whispered in her ear.

“No, Sir.”

“So you would agree that you have earned punishment?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Come with me.”  Luke took her hands and helped her stand.  She was still wet from the shower and she slipped a little on the tile.  “I’ve got you, baby girl.  Trust me,” he said softly as he walked her into the bedroom.

Bella felt her knees against the bed.  “Now bend over across the bed, baby girl.  Rest your torso on the bed and reach your arms up over your head.” She did as he directed.

He left her standing, leaning on the bed as he walked around and took her tied hands, pulling them straight and securing them to the opposite side of the bed.  With her feet on the floor, Bella couldn’t move.

He returned to her and lightly stroked her backside and down the backs of her thighs.  “Move your feet apart,” he commanded.  She did as she was told.  He slipped his hand between her legs and moved it up to her sex, gently stroking before sliding a finger inside.  “You’re a little wet now.  We’ll check again after,” he said softly.

Want to read more?

Click below to start reading now…

Buy Link:  books2read.com/LukeAndBella

You can find more information on Pandora Spocks, please click the following:

Wicked Pens Pandora Spocks

Wicked Pens are proud to announce

welcome bryce



Depraved, Violent, Tender-Loving Erotica

Bryce Calderwood’s erotica. stories usually combine paranormal elements with either futanari or BDSM (or both). Bryce likes to explore the boundaries between sex and violence, between pleasure and pain, and between the human and the monstrous.

Every day, Bryce writes smut, drinks insane amounts of black coffee, and grows his beard.

Here is an excerpt from one of Bryce Calderwood’s books



Futanari Vampires 1

All was blood from the neck down. The girl was absolutely covered in blood. Under her black jacket was a top that had perhaps been white, but which was now soaked dark red. Cut into her neck was a deep gash that made Ashlyn’s stomach sick and hot. It was like someone had taken to her neck with an axe, chopped at her like a tree trunk. And, somehow, she still moved.
With a gasp the girl’s eyes opened, and Ashlyn saw they were an incandescent shade of rose. Even with her horrible injuries and blood-spattered face, Ashlyn could see she was extraordinarily beautiful. Were those contacts? The girl breathed quickly and shallowly and Ashlyn heard faint whistling in and out through the gash in her throat. The girl’s hand flew up to Ashlyn’s face and she pushed her bloody fingers into her mouth.
Ashlyn spasmed from the sudden intrusion and taste. She knew what her own blood tasted like but had no idea someone else’s could taste so different. It was smoky and sweet and almost… meaty. She shuddered and gagged, but she also swallowed before she realized it.
Before Ashlyn could think about what she just did, the girl snatched at the lapel of her jacket with shocking strength. Ashlyn looked at the girl’s face and the girl looked right at her.
Help me, she mouthed.
The girl had fangs. Long ones.
Impossible, thought Ashlyn.

Want to read more?

Click below to start reading now…

Buy Link: Entralled Amazon


Bryce Calderwood Wicked Pens



I know what you fantasize about. You should be ashamed of yourself. But you’re not, and neither am I. I take those dark fantasies, the ones you don’t dare tell anyone about, and I write them into stories. Stories you can read to sate those lusts—at least, for a little while. Come into my world with me. Mind the darkness and watch out: you might get hurt. But then again, you like that, don’t you?



Kaden Montgomery Wicked Pens

The Wicked Pens are proud to announce

welcome karen


A self-confessed reading addict, Karen is usually found either writing or with her nose stuck in a book. Or Adulting because apparently, she should do that too sometimes!

She’s a lover of wildly inappropriate humour, has an addiction to swear words and lands her foot in her mouth daily… but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Karen can be summed up with 5 words:

Friendly, loyal, thankful, funny and above all… Smutty!

Here is an excerpt from one of Karen Raine’s books…



Kiss me Kit.” My eyes slowly open as I tilt my head to his. A gentle brush, lip against lip, over and over again until my knees feel weak. “You taste like heaven,” he murmurs against my lips, swooping back in for another caress. He relaxes his grip on my top, only to slide it up my stomach, his knuckles skimming the skin revealed. The kiss is broken long enough for him to pull the top over my head as I raise my arms. He drops it behind me, his hands running down my arms and sides and circling my waist. His lips grab my own again, this time with purpose as he seeks entrance with his tongue.

I’m dimly aware that he is moving us backwards towards the bed, but I’m too wrapped up in his kiss to do anything but let him lead. I hear the snap of my bra being unfastened, the cool air hitting my aching nipples breaks through the cloud of lust as he gently lowers the straps down my arms. Needing a moment, I sit myself on the edge of the bed and scoot back against the pillows. Nate follows, a predatory look to his face that has my body warming all over. His muscles flex as he leans over my body, his arms on either side of my thighs as he lowers his face to my stomach. He blows warm air across the flesh, and then inhales my skin, rubbing his nose below my belly button.

“Been dreaming about this body.” His tongue laps against my skin as he makes his way up towards my breasts. “These incredible nipples, how you came for me with just a touch.” He rests his body on top of mine and I welcome the weight, my legs instinctively parting for him. His abs press against my core and I groan at the contact.

“Babe, I’m hanging on by a thread here,” he moans, his hands cupping my breasts. His gaze is fixed on the large mounds and he dips his head to nuzzle between the flesh, licking at the underside of one boob, then the other. Back and forth he continues, slowly working his way to the aching peaks on top, my body tight with anticipation until finally he takes one into his mouth. His eyes find mine, sparkling in the dim light from the landing and then he sucks. Hard.


Want to read more?

Click below to start reading now…

Buy Link: LovedKit’sSpiral Amazon

You can find more information on Karen here: Karen Raines Wicked Pen page

We are proud to announce some exciting news.

welcome kay



Kay Brandt is a seductive storyteller, award-winning adult filmmaker and bestselling author, delivering a passionate blend of story and explicit, graphic content. In the 1990’s her creative expression was writing erotic stage plays like the critically acclaimed “Kiss Me Twisted”, which many years later evolved into the X-rated films, “Cherry episode 1” and “Cherry 2” and then evolved again into “The World of Cherry” ebook series. Since 2009 Kay has written/directed/produced more than forty X-rated films, many winning AVN and XBIZ awards, for top companies like Adam&Eve, Digital Playground, New Sensations and Girlfriends Films. The “Cherry” films, are the two biggest budget lesbian adult films ever made and since their release in 2011 have been deemed erotic classics. Kay’s current creative passions include writing/directing a new genre of adult films based on erotic books. “Safe Landings,” a feature based on Kay’s dramatic romance novel and the epic film based on Selena Kitt’s New York Times bestseller “Babysitting the Baumgartners” are the first two offerings in Adam&Eve’s books-to-films series. She also released her first horror novella, “Soles” through Fido publishing in 2016 and there’s more twisted horror stories coming soon. Share the journey and indulge in the wild fantasy worlds she creates for your pleasure.

Would you like to see more information on Kay Brandt? 

Click the following: Wicked Pen Kay Brandt page

Here is one of Kay Brandt’s books:





Kevin blew in my ear while kissing the sensitive areas of my neck—the spots that made
me shiver with chills—melting me with his lips. I sighed, circling my fingernails on his
washboard abs until I reached his belt buckle. Kevin’s erection was pronounced through his jeans, and I placed my hand over it, patting his stiffness like an obedient pet.
Casey and Paul made out with uninhibited lust, hands roaming as freely as their mouths.
Casey told her husband, “On your back.” And he obeyed, reclining on the fancy floor rug with his meaty beast aimed like a rocket ready for launch. I knew his cock well, having had the pleasure of screwing it and remembered how delicious it felt, oversized in my cunt, stretching me open with its girth.
She grabbed hold of his shaft and ran her grip up and down his length, softening and
constricting around it as his moans filled the room. Casey’s mouth landed on Paul’s red, pulsating head, and she engulfed it, working her saliva-coated tongue downward while twisting her wrist to match the corkscrewing motions. Massaging his heavy balls in her other hand, she lifted them to her lips as her mouth reached the base, and gently slipped and swiped her tongue across them.
“Fuck, baby,” Paul groaned through gritted teeth, his hands covered by Casey’s long,
blonde curls as he held the sides of her head. He guided her head-bobbing, holding her on his manhood till his dripping head hit the back of her throat. Casey obliged him, coughing first, then making slight gurgles as she opened her throat and allowed his cock to go in further. “You suck me so good.”
Torn between wanting to verbally encourage their lovemaking and wanting to remain a
silent observer, I instinctively cleared my own throat, wanting to mirror Casey and blow Kevin’s rod, too. But that’s not why we were invited to watch, and so I politely rubbed my chest, smiling for Casey to continue.
Choking and spitting on her man’s meat, Casey used both hands, twisting and turning on
his shaft while she breathed through her nostrils, her throat completely occupied. She gurgled louder, his head hitting her gag reflex, then suddenly withdrew, inhaling then swallowing. The devil was in her eyes as she looked down at her husband, and commanded, “Don’t you dare come yet.”
Paul just laughed, totally in control of his tool. “And short change our guests?”
Playfully, Casey smacked his chest and gave his cock a hard squeeze. I gasped at the
sheer size of it, and fought the urge to jump in and join them.
Berlin read my mind, and blurted, “You sure you don’t need my help, Casey?”
“Or mine?” I added, sending a wink to Berlin.
“Thank you, but…” Crawling over Paul’s body, Casey wedged his shaft between her
thighs, teasing his tip with her cunt’s opening as she swung her hips in slow circles, “…next time, ladies.” Slipping his bulging head inside her tender folds, and letting it slip inch by inch till she landed on his hairy, pelvic base, Casey gave her pussy a moment to simply enjoy him inside of her.

Want to read more?

Click below and start reading now…

Buy Link: HotWivesandtheirDirtyDesiresBookOne Amazon

New Release by Linz Bassett

Congratulations Linz on your recent release, SLADE The First Touch (The Alastor Chronicles – Book One)

You can find more information on Linz Bassett on her Wicked Pen Page: Linz Bassett Wicked Pen page

B1 Slade LB CoverLinz

SLADE The First Touch

The Alastor Chronicles – Book One

They had no defense against the emotions that raged through them

¸.•´.•´¨) ¸.•¨)
(¸.•´(¸.•´ (¸.•¨¯`* ღ


“Are you sure about this, sweets? Once I’ve done this, our mating is inevitable. Neither one of us would be able to walk away from it.”

Chiara struggled to hear his words, let alone decipher them, but something inside her demanded that she submitted to him. Not just here, sexually, but give her entire being into his hands.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispered against his lips as her hands found the hard planes of his back. She tightened her legs around him while orbiting her hips in an erotic dance of temptation. Her labia spread open and coated his hard shaft sliding back and forth between them. “God, yes! I’m sure.”

Her nipples turned into hard stones when he brushed his palms over them and then pinched them between two fingers to twist and pull. A flood of reckless desire overpowered her, but instead of fighting against it, she embraced it.

She could feel the sharpness of his canines as they elongated, graze her skin when he pulled a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. Chiara was amazed that she wasn’t scared. He could so easily bite into her breast and drink her blood as she’d heard vampires did during sex. What floored her mind was the desire to feel those sharp teeth sink into her skin, to feast from her.

Do they even drink blood? She wondered, remembering the massive meal he’d eaten earlier.

“Yes, sweets, we do drink blood but we don’t need it to sustain ourselves,” he answered her thoughts against her breasts as he lapped at the tips which were sensitive after his ministrations.

There was no way to describe the intense effect Slade had on her. Not just her body but her entire being. He shouldn’t have felt so familiar; like she’d known him her entire life instead of just two days.

He dragged her hands above her head and pinned them with one of his. The hoarseness of his voice was proof of the effect she had on him. “I’m not a gentle lover, Chiara. If I get too rough, stop me.”

For a fraction of a second, his warning caused her heart to stop beating as excitement rushed through her.

Slade pressed his painfully hard cock against her softness. He caught her hair in his free hand and pulled her head back to expose the curved line of her throat. He ran his sharp fangs gently over the erratic pulse he found there. “You are so tempting, Chiara. You have no idea,” he murmured in a smooth alto-tone.

A heated tremor passed through her loins at the growl that echoed around them when he slowly pushed his cock inside her pussy. She could feel a shudder run through his body when her heat engulfed his girth.

“You have no idea how badly I want a taste of you, sweets.” His chest vibrated with his words.

Chiara couldn’t deny that she him to taste her. Consume her. Somehow, common sense prevailed, and she bit back the words that were about to tumble from her lips. She concentrated on her senses—his hard body on top of her and his thick cock pulsing inside her. This was what she had been craving—the constant need; the burning heat rushing through her veins. She could no longer deny that she needed this. Needed him.

She spread her legs wide and bent her knees, canting her hips upward. She could feel him holding back and it annoyed her. She wasn’t a porcelain doll and the sooner he realized it, the better.

Besides, I’m greedy. I want all of him.

“Deeper. I need to feel all of you. Aah!”

 Like what you read? Why not one click now and get the full story?

Buy Link: Slade: The First Touch Amazon US

Buy Link: Slade: The First Touch Amazon UK


New Release by Nia Farrell

Congratulations to Nia Farrell on your recent new releases Find Her: Avenging Angels MC Series and Wicked Lady.  You can find more information on Nia, please visit her Wicked Pen page: Nia Farrell Wicked Pen page

Please see the following excerpts from Nia’s recent releases…

sensual kiss


Avenging Angels MC Book 1

Blurb: Rose McLanahan is the princess of the Avenging Angels MC, daughter of its president and sister to four of its members, including Vice President Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan.  But Rose has a secret.  She wants out of the clubhouse—and getting her CPA is her chance to have the normal life that she dreams about.

Michael O’Flaherty is a computer whiz, security systems expert, and an associate of the Avenging Angels MC.  He’s Mad Dog’s best friend, as well as his brother in arms.  Their days in Marine RECON are put to use when Michael is called in to find the niece of the local mob boss.  Krissy Castellari has been kidnapped by a rival club, the Blackwater Demons MC.  Michael discovers where she’s being held, but she’s not alone.  The Demons have Rose McLanahan, too.

Mad Dog and Michael join forces to extract the girls, but Rose is still in danger, having been promised to the son of the Demon’s president Reaper.  Mad Dog is tasked with returning Krissy to her family, and Michael agrees to take Rose away until it’s safe for her to return.  War has been declared.  Blood will be spilled.  Alone in the Angels’ safehouse, the Dominant Michael and submissive Rose will finally discover each other.

Welcome to the Avenging Angels MC, full of Alpha males, Dominant bikers, and the submissive women who love them.  Written for ages 18+.


She’d noticed before all this that he was an attractive man.  She’d have to be blind not to, with that dark Irish coloring of his, thick black hair, a sinful brush of lashes framing his brilliant blue eyes, and the short scruff of beard that he wore that was so irresistible on men.  Trouble was, she was totally off his radar, like he had mental blinders that kept him from noticing her.  She had remained on the periphery of his vision, always out of focus…

Until now.

And he didn’t like it.  It was unsettling.  Disturbing.  Something that he couldn’t control, and his Dominant nature found that unacceptable.  Well, too bad.  He wasn’t her Sir—not yet, anyway.  He was just going to have to deal with it.

She didn’t tell him that she’d seen the movie before.  It had been a while, so she couldn’t remember everything that happened.  Let him think it was her first time.  It would serve him right for shutting her out.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, watching the opening sequence.  “She must not be wearing lipstick, or she’d ruin that page she just pulled out of the typewriter.  And then she’d get spanked for it.  Maybe she wants spanked for it.  No, she needs her other hand free for the coffee.  Ah, I see.  Interesting office wear.  After this movie, do you think businesses started addressing spreader bars in their dress code?”

Michael rubbed his face and said nothing.

“She’s leaving home.  Just graduated and her dad’s sending her off into the world alone.  No, someone’s picking her up.  A wedding?  And that’s her gay best friend.  She doesn’t like the older guy hugging her.  What’s that stuff?  Wait.  She’s a cutter?  No shit.  But she stops herself.  Good girl.”

She kept it up, getting some of it right, telling some of it wrong.  Michael didn’t seem to appreciate that she thought the spanking scene was fucking hot, or like listening to the extended argument she had with herself, whether or not there was penetration.  “He’s probably just dry humping her,” she decided.  “He seems the type, to deny a girl her pleasure.”

“She’s being punished,” Michael growled.  “She hasn’t earned his cock or an orgasm.”

Rose was feeling reckless after her second beer.  “And what the hell does it take to earn a fucking cock?  The woman has done whatever he asked, from dumpster diving to crawling.  I’d say she’s more than earned it.”

“When she’s not being punished, yeah.  I suppose you’re right.  But not now.  Anything else waits.”

She drained her bottle and pointed it at him like an accusing finger.  “You know, women get tired of waiting, same as men.  He’ll be lucky if she stays.  A woman with that kind of devotion who gets kicks from his kink?  We’re a rare breed, Michael, but then, I guess you know that, right?  No steady girlfriend.  No permanent sub.  Still banging that housesitter of yours?  Heidi?  Brunhilde?”

“Gretchen,” he snapped, glowering.  “Her name is Gretchen, and that’s none of your fucking business.  How much have you had to drink?”

She stopped to think.  “Dos,” she deliberately slurred and held up two fingers and a thumb.  “See?  You’re not the only one who knows a foreign language.  Yo hablo español.”

Michael tsked and shook his head.  “Well, that’s two too many, princess.  No more today, if that’s all the better you can handle it.”

Rose sat up straight.  “I can handle it,” she argued, pinning Michael with her gaze.  “I can handle a lot of things.”  Keeping her eyes on him, she wagged a finger at the movie they were watching.  “I bet I could handle his kink.  I bet I could handle your kink.”

Michael crossed his arms and smirked at her.  “Oh, really?  You think you can handle me?  Little girl, you have no idea.”

Rose cringed.  “Don’t call me that!  I’m not a little girl.  I’m fucking nineteen years old, Crash!  When are you gonna stop treating me like a child and see that I’m all grown up?”

“When you stop fucking acting like one.”

Michael leveled that look—the one that commanded respect, demanded obedience, while every fiber of her being was daring her to disobey.

Clutching her empty bottle to her chest, she gave him her own incredulous look and shook her head in disbelief.  “You,” she grated, “are so fucking clueless.  You have no idea.  None!”  She rolled her eyes and barked a harsh laugh.  “You know what?  It doesn’t matter.  Screw this.  Screw you!”

Rose shot out of her seat and started walking.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Michael said, his voice filled with displeasure.

“The kitchen,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.  “I’m going to throw away my trash.”

“That will wait until I goddamn say so,” he said tightly, rising from his seat and stalking towards her.  “Fucking lot of nerve you’ve got, after everything I’ve done for you.  You think you can disrespect me like that and fucking walk away?  Think again, little girl.  You tease me, you rouse the beast.  You say you can handle kink.  Let’s start with a spanking.  See how hot you think it is when it’s your ass on fire.”

Rose shivered.  Michael took the beer bottle from her fingers and tossed it on the sofa.  He eyed the rounded end, then her.  “Bend over it.  Now!”

 Oh, God.

She draped herself over the end of the sofa, putting her hands on the seat cushion, bracing herself on straightened arms, preparing herself for what was coming.  When nothing came, she looked over her shoulder to find Michael staring at her ass.  Her T-shirt had ridden up, and her yoga pants had no panty lines.

Before she could chicken out, she reached behind her, hooked her thumbs in her waistband, and slid her pants to the middle of her thighs.  Reaching, she put her palms on the sofa cushion and waited for him to begin.

He stepped closer.  Covering one ass cheek with his large, capable hand, he tested it, mapping the contours, flexing his fingers, feeling the tone of her muscles, and judging resiliency.

The first spank smarted.  She grimaced but otherwise did not react.  The second blow fell hard enough to make her breath catch in her chest.  More strikes, on both sides, quicker, harder, working up to the flurry of them that they had watched.

By the time they finished, Rose was a sobbing mess and Michael had a raging hard on.

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Buy Link: Find Her AAMC1 Amazon

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Blurb:  In Restoration England, Catherine Fanshawe is a young widow without the means to run the estate that she has inherited.  Driven to desperation and inspired by her namesake (believed to have been a notorious female highwayman), Catherine decides that the Wicked Lady will ride once more.

Her target is Lord Leighton, James Devereaux, a scandalous bounder, handsome as sin, and rich as Croesus.  When she stops his carriage, she punishes his attempt to distract her by demanding more than money.

James resists, at first, until he realizes the masked highwayman is a woman.  When she leaves him bound to a tree and unsatisfied, he vows revenge.  Being a confidant of King Charles adds a world of privilege to his rank, and resources at his command.  He will not rest until he finds his Wicked Lady.  Whatever it takes, her crimes against him will not go unpunished, even if he must take the law into own hands.

Catherine doesn’t know it, but the tables are about to be turned.

Written for ages 18+.


Lady Donnelly did not protest when James took her arm and bade her accompany him to somewhere more private where they could…talk.

Both of them knew there would be little of that—at least in the near future.

Alone in his private chamber, he took an inordinate amount of pleasure in the way she trembled before him.  She should be frightened.  Her fate was in his hands.

“Nice mask,” James remarked.  “Much nicer than the plain one you wore in Hertfordshire.  Purchased with my coin, no doubt.  Take it off.”

Her hands shook as she did so, revealing a pert nose and smooth cheeks.  Her pale complexion contrasted sharply with her ebony hair and emerald eyes.  Framed with a thick brush of absurdly long lashes, they were stunning to behold.

“And the dress.”

She blinked, hard.  “What?”

James’s smile held no humor.  “You heard me.  The dress.  I know damned well it was purchased with my coin, too.  Be glad I do not choose to strip your brother, or make him privy to your shame.  Test me, and you will not be the only one who pays the price for treason.”

“Treason?!  But—”

“When you accost an officer of the King, you attack your sovereign.  Did you think that there would be no repercussion for your crimes against me?  Fortunately for you, Charles has agreed to let me handle this myself.  Now, I can order a hanging, but I have much more appealing uses for rope.  Your choice,” he said simply.  “Be taken, naked, to the Tower or submit freely to me.  Tell me, which is it to be?”

“I have no choice,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.  He’d remedy that soon enough.

“Nor did I,” he reminded her curtly.  “Your dress is still on.”

“I am sorry.  I need help, Sir.  Without a maid, I am afraid that I must beg your assistance.”

James used his considerable experience to dispense with her dress and underpinnings, leaving her clad only in her shoes and stockings, corset and chemise.  He circled her, judging her attributes with a critical eye and finding himself well pleased.  She was healthy, at least, with a soft curve to her belly, enough hips to hold onto, and creamy breasts that swelled above her stays.  With her height a good foot shorter than his, it would make for some interesting dynamics when he took her to bed.

He went to sit upon it.  “You shall lie across my lap with your head here and your arse here.”  He pointed to each in turn.  “I am going to spank you, blister that bottom of yours. You will keep count, and thank me for each blow.  Lose track, and we begin again.  You are not to speak otherwise.  When you are allowed to do so, in private, you will call me Master.  Nod if you understand.”

Mortification stained her cheeks.  She jerked her head and wrung her hands.

“Good.  You are intelligent, if unwise.  We shall see how biddable you are.  Now come.”

She approached him with as much eagerness as a convict did a hanging tree.  Stopping by his knee, she bent over it, settled herself, and waited for him to begin.

James grabbed a handful of soft, fine linen and pulled up the back of her chemise, not stopping until the fabric was bunched above her waist and her bottom was bared.  And what a lovely bottom it was.  He palmed each cheek in turn, squeezing, molding, warming the tissue, preparing her for what was to come.  She stifled a moan and clenched her thighs.  He could smell her arousal.

His Wicked Lady was proving a lusty wench.


“One,” she gasped.  “Thank you, Master.”

 Smack!  A matching strike on the other side.

“Two.  Thank you, Master.”

He kept going, alternating sides, keeping his strikes on the fleshy globes of her buttocks.  The flesh pinkened, then reddened, as she counted the cost.  He did not stop until she had dissolved into tears, gulping breaths between her choked responses, and her nether lips were swollen and slick with dew.

James thrust two fingers into her breach, pumped his hand, and pulled it out, licking his fingers and tasting her essence.  Delicious.  She moaned, no doubt feeling the emptiness and aching to be filled.

Not yet.

He pushed her off his lap and let her crumple on the floor.  “Kneel,” he rumbled, reaching to open his breeches.  “I am going to fuck your mouth.  If you know what’s best, you shall keep your teeth away and your claws sheathed—and you shall swallow anything that I choose to give you.  Nod if you understand.”

The dark head bobbed.

“Have you done this before?  Taken a man in your mouth?”  He had discovered too little on her late husband to know his true measure as a man, let alone a sexual partner.  “You may answer me.”

She pushed herself up, keeping her eyes down, never raising her gaze above his chest.  “No, Master.”

For some reason, that pleased him, to learn he would be her first.  “I shall teach you,” he said, taking out his cock and stroking it fully erect.  “Show you how to give the greatest pleasure.  There are sensitive spots here, here, and here.”  He pointed to the base of his shaft, the whole of the crown, and the place underneath that could bring a man to his knees.  “The rim and the first few inches are the most sensitive.  You shall learn to take me down your throat—oh, yes, you shall do that, too.  Use your tongue to tempt and tease, the suction of your mouth to bring me to a satisfying end.  Swallow my seed, and I shall reward you.  Fail in any of this, and you shall suffer the consequences.  Now, begin.”

James fisted her hair and guided her to him, pushing his way between her lips and relishing the feel of her mouth and tongue.  He forged deeper, his glans rubbing against the ridges of her palate, pushing against the back of her throat.  She fought not to gag.

He drew back a little.  “Suck,” he ordered.  She obeyed, cheeks hollowing with her efforts.  He grabbed his sac and squeezed his testes, jacked his hips and deepened his strokes.  He fucked her face, pleased with her first efforts.  Feeling his balls draw up and his cock swell, he growled a warning.  “Get ready.  Here it comes.”

James exploded, pouring himself into the warmth of her mouth as she fought to swallow the volume.  When he had finished using her, he let go of her hair and let her sit back on her heels.  Her green eyes were tear-smacked, her nose red, and her lips swollen.


Her eyes widened when he grabbed her biceps, hauled her to her feet, and tossed her onto the bed.  He stripped her, bound her, spread her wide and secured her wrists and ankles to the four corners of his world.  Here, in this room, he was king.  He was her sovereign.  Lady Donnelly was here to serve his will and be the receptacle for his lust.  His to do with as he pleased.  To discard or to keep.

Power was intoxicating.  More so, when he could see her fear and smell her arousal.  He thrust two fingers into her slit and pumped until she climaxed.

Shedding his clothes, he climbed onto the end of the bed and crawled up her body, dragging his chest on her front, letting his thatch of hair abrade that incredible skin of hers, sensitizing her breasts, and teasing her nipples into tight, hard buds.  He took one in his teeth and plucked it, making her body arch and writhe beneath him.

Taking himself in hand, he parted her folds and found her opening, notched his head, and thrust inside, a primal claiming that tore a cry from her throat from the sheer force of it.  He pulled back and thrust again, just as hard, just as deep, hips flexing, finding his rhythm and maintaining it.  She was as perfect as he remembered.  Tight.  Wet.  Responsive to his touch and willing to do anything he wished.

Nothing was sacrosanct.  Everything was within his grasp.  The only limits were his imagination and the whim of mercy that would eventually surface, when she reached her breaking point, if not before.

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Buy Link: Wicked Lady Amazon

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New Release by A.L. Long

Congratulations to fellow Wicked Pen, A.L. Long on your recent release on June 7th. Gainer: Jagged Edge Series #6

For more information on A.L. Long, please visit her author page here: A.L. Long Wicked Pen  Page

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GAINER Jagged Edge Series #6

An Excerpt:

Feeling his body move, I rolled over and watched as his eyes began to open. I was pretty sure the magnificent color in his gray eyes was because of the reflection of the sun shining through the blinds that were slightly drawn. Placing my hand on his cheek, I said softly. “I could stare at you for hours.”

With a small chuckle, he smiled, “Only hours? Because I could look at you for days, maybe even years.”

His words were the sweetest thing I had ever heard. I leaned in, meaning only to give him a short kiss, but his arms wrapped around my body and soon I was on my back with his strong sexy body hovering above me. Gently moving the hair that had fallen in my face, he whispered softly, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Without another word, his mouth was over mine and the warmth of his tongue slipped between my waiting lips. I may have been overly excited, but I pulled him even closer, deepening our kiss. I was mystified by my own desire for this man as the thought of what would happen next sent my head into a wild swirl. Frantically going at each other like we would disappear into dust in a matter of seconds, our clothes were off and scattered everywhere in the room.

Lou slowly moved his mouth from mine, trickling soft, unrushed kisses down my neck to the swell of my breasts. The warmth of his mouth on my skin sent a wave of unbridled sensations down to the tip of my toes. If this was the beginning of something wonderful and beautiful between us, I never wanted it to end. Just as I was reeling in my blissful thoughts, Lou gently bit on the tip of my taut nipple. Although it wasn’t painful, it made my body jolt with pleasure. He exchanged the small nip with a soft, but very effective, swirl of his tongue, causing a surge of wetness to pool between my legs. It was only when his mouth completely surrounded the sensitized bud that my back came off of the bed, needing more of what he was offering

Feeling as though my body was going to burn with the tingling heat running through it, in a heated breath, I pleaded, “Please, Lou.”

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Buy Link: Gainer: Jagged Edge Series #6