Release Day for MY THREE MASTERS

It's here! This is my most-requested sequel, the continuation of the story of MY THREE LORDS. In MY THREE MASTERS, the Marquis de Beaumont takes center stage, as he falls in love with a mysterious servant girl. His arrangement with Alicia, the Countess of Dorchester, her husband the Earl, and the devastating Duke of Warrington is just as fascinating and complicated as ever.

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It’s been years since the Marquis de Beaumont, London’s most notorious rake, felt anything more than sexual need. But something about the mysterious nursemaid Miranda Brown catches his eye. Why is her face so terribly scarred? Why does her speech slip into the cadence of the upper class? Why is she haunting his dreams?

Miranda is used to hiding in plain sight. After fleeing her vicious guardian, she’s wary of everyone, especially the Marquis, who stars in her most secret nighttime fantasies. But not even her fantasies could prepare her for the truth about the Marquis, the Duke, the Earl and the Countess…or for the intense passion that flares between them. As the secrets from her past begin to surface, she fears their fragile bond won’t survive, and that not even her three masters will be able to save her from a cruel fate.

Inside Scoop: This Regency-set tale boasts ménage, BDSM…just about everything you could possibly want in a hot historical. 

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Go Wild and Deep in print

Exciting news! For the first time, I will actually have a book out in print. It's called GO WILD AND DEEP and it combines two novellas, GO WILD and GO DEEP, in one lovely book. Here's what it looks like:

Isn't that beautiful? It's already available for order on the Ellora's Cave website:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10308-go-wild-and-deep.aspx

This is a first for me, so I'm quite thrilled. I can't wait to hold one in my hands!

Have a great weekend!

Juniper

On Sale for June

Great news for budget-conscious readers (and who isn't?) Every single Ellora's Cave title is 30% off at All Romance EBooks for the entire month of June.

All Romance EBooks


Dude. That's a lot of books. And that includes four of my books:

MY THREE LORDS

GO WILD

GO DEEP

BEAUTIFUL OBSESSION

So go! Check it out! Go wild! (Or deep.) Enjoy!

Chatting with Lily Harlem

When I was little I had a pen-pal in the UK. We wrote every month or so about our friends and our schoolwork and our pets and so forth. Eventually we fell out of touch but that’s okay, because now I have Lily! That’s author Lily Harlem and I’m just getting to know her. But I already know we have a lot in common. We both write contemporary erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave and … our first names are plants. Bonus … she lives in the UK!

So here we go … my first pen-pal/fangirl conversation with Lily. And by the way, make sure to pop over to her blog because she's talking about me today. (Good things, I hope.)

Hiya, Lily! First of all, I know you live in Wales, but what’s it like there? I imagine lots of sheep and meadows and hot British guys. True?

Hey, Juniper, it really is awesome to be having a natter across the miles, and I have to say Alaska is somewhere I would absolutely love to visit. Shows like Northern Exposure, Men in Trees and that fabulous Ryan Reynolds/Sandra Bullock film, The Proposal, has given me the bug!

I have lived in Scotland, Northern Ireland, England and now Wales, so I am a definite anglophile. There is something wonderful and unique about each country, and every time I’ve moved on I’ve been both sad and excited. Scotland is just beautiful, the Irish people a joy to be around, and England always makes me feel warm and content, probably because that is where the majority of my family live. But for now I am in Wales and I have to say feeling very settled here. And yes, there are lots of sheep. Lots of sheep, horses, cattle and some amazing coastline which Mr. H and I spend many a happy hour exploring with our dogs.

As for hot guys, then yeah, there’s plenty of them too, as long as you like them rough and ready. The Welsh men are hard working, rugged farmers, they play rugby like it is a religion and speak their minds. So if you like a man who is really a man, and don’t mind calloused hands and an occasional black eye, then Wales might just have to go on your to-visit-list.

Rough and ready – you’re talking my language, no matter what the accent. Okay, next question:

 

You often write in the first person. For instance, Cold Nights, Hot Bodies (which I loved!)  is from the point of view of naughty virgin Ashley. What is it that draws you to that way of telling a story?

Yes, I do write in the first person a lot. I guess I like the intimacy of it. The way I can really get into a character’s head and share all of her thoughts and experiences with absolutely nothing in the way. I also love how the protagonist has to be in every scene and the reader gets to see through her eyes, the hunky object of her desires.

Creating a hero whose thoughts you can’t write down on a page is a challenge I enjoy. His interest, disapproval, lust, foul mood, desperation has to be shown and not told. His dialogue, actions are what brings him to live. And I like that, because it is how we all go through life, reading other peoples body language and either believing or disbelieving what they say to form our opinion of them.

Oh, and the other thing I like about the first person – the sex scenes. I love going into the head of my heroine while she is have hot, no-holds-barred sex with that sexy rock-star, big and tough hockey player or cute guy she has just persuaded to take her virginity!

Oh yes, there’s that naughty Ashley again! She might be a virgin, but she does read lots of erotic romance. Her reading habits make her very openminded once she gets involved with the uber-hot Shane Galloway. Do you think that’s true to life? In other words, can reading erotic romance improve your sex life?

Hah, fab question and something I actually did a little undercover research on before writing this book. I have a lovely friend who complained to me that bedroom antics with her fella were waning. There was no real reason for it they were in love, both hot etc.

When I asked her what she was reading (in another conversation) she told me she only read murder mystery, always had and always would. Well me being a little bossy, I told her to get something raunchy to read and stop with the depressing stuff.

When a week later, she was still reading some awful thing about people getting chopped up in tents and thrown into a lake to be eaten by crocs, I took matters into my own hands.

I raided my secret shelf of sexy paperbacks. Plucked out a combination of blushing romances to down and dirty hotness, and marched down to her house. She was a little hesitant at first but once she started reading she couldn’t stop. She kept texting me – “OMG! You gave me a book that refers to his thing as a shaft!” and “They’ve only just met and they are shagging like rabbits!”. LOL! She was soon back for more, and has now just about depleted my stash.

Has it helped? Hell, yeah, she’s ‘in the mood’ when the bedroom light goes off now and is planning a ‘sex for breakfast, lunch and dinner holiday’ with her man.

Is he happy about the change? Abso-bloody-lutely!!

So in answer to your question, Juniper, yes, I really do think erotic romance can help your sex life. It can make you feel like you are getting some if you’re not, and give you new ideas and put you in the mood if you are!

I like that -- it’s nice to feel you’re doing a public service, isn’t it? We’re both members of the “When One is Not Enough” blog, featuring ten bestselling ménage romance authors. I always love your blog posts because they have such extensive information in them. (If you don’t believe me, check the archives, y’all!) Do you do a lot of research for your posts, or do you rely on information you’ve already gathered for your books?

I love being part of WOINE, such a great bunch of authors and readers to hang out and have fun with.

Usually I start from scratch when researching a post. Sometimes I know exactly what I am going to do, other times I wander around the web until something grabs my attention and I realize I want to know more.

I have a bit of an obsessive personality which effects lots of what I do, so once I start on something, whether it is writing a WOINE post, scrubbing the house, planning a trip. I tend not to get distracted until it’s done. This has advantages and disadvantages, for instance when a novel takes a month or so to write everything else goes to the wind. It’s good for the novel, but not so good for anyone who has a birthday I’m supposed to remember or for clearing up dog hairs from the corners!

I know what you mean – regular life tends to fall off the radar when you’re wrapped up in a story. I like the way you set Cold Nights, Hot Bodies in a very ordinary office world where the big events are the boss’s impending retirement and Ashley’s “employee of the year” prize. I was wondering if that’s why you write contemporary, so you can bring characters like that – people you might run into on the street – to life. Is that the case? Have you ever been drawn to historical or paranormal?

Thank you, I am pleased you liked Ashley’s big events and so pleased that they came across as important to her and brought her character to life.

Bringing every day people and experiences to the page is most definitely why I am drawn to contemporary. I like to write about what I see around me, real experiences, real emotions. Not that a reader can’t lose themselves in my books, they most certainly can, its just stepping into someone else’s world for a little while and pretty much knowing what you will get. There are no other worlds to learn about, or vampire/shifter rules – though in some you will have to meet a team of hot hockey players. But of course you know all about that, Juniper, we share the same appreciation for the bad boys of the ice, don’t we?!

Historical, paranormal, sci-fi, no. I don’t particularly read them and have never done more than dabble with writing them. (Though there is a free read/podcast on my website about Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s wedding night which was a bit of saucy fun to write!)

I have published a fairytale fantasy, Enchanted Submission, about Rapunzel and the newly divorced Beast getting it together. But I kind of made it contemporary, with Cinderella and the girls knocking back shots of vodka before going to a BDSM club. Prince Charming is a completely insatiable womanizer and Tinkerbell a little nymphomaniac!

OMG, that sounds hilarious, I have to check that out! One last question: when can I get the next Lily Harlem book?

Two in the pipeline!

At Total-E-Bound, my UK publisher, I have my first co-author due for release on 2^nd of April. It is called That Filthy Book and is written with the amazingly talented Natalie Dae.

It is again contemporary and is about a married couple going on a journey of sexual discovery, re-awakening what it once was that made them so crazy for one another. Then with the help of a very dirty book, they take their regained confidence and urge to experiment to a whole new level. It was enormous fun to write, and Nat and I completely bounced off one another, the scenes just got filthier and filthier and in the end, when it came to picking a title, we just called it what we’d called it all along – That Filthy Book!

At Ellora’s Cave I have a free read called Stockholm Seduction. It was released eighteen months ago and I’ve had lots of reader comments to the tune of ‘We want more”, “Great start, where is the rest?”.

The story of Penny Tipping, the British Foreign Secretary’s daughter, getting kidnapped down-under by the seriously sexy Ty, seemed to hit the right spot for many. So, I let the characters talk to me again and told the rest of their story. Stockholm Surrender is due out at Ellora’s Cave in the spring, and is a full-length novel with the original freebie as the prologue. Its hot and sexy and I loved the twists and turns that went with Penny falling for her captor and longing to be taken again.

Thank so much for having me today, Juniper. I hope you will stop by my blog soon for a cup of tea and a chat. There is nothing better than being able to get together for a gossip about sexy novels.

Hugs

Lily x

Thanks for chatting with me, Lily! I'd love to do it again some time over at your place. In the meantime, for more about Lily's books, visit her website. You can also click on each cover to find out more about the book.

www.lilyharlem.com

Have a great week!

Juniper 

Go Deep Cover Art

I just learned this cover has been approved for posting! This is for Go Deep, the next story in my Wild, Alaska series. It'll be out soon from Ellora's Cave, but I don't have the release date yet. Dar Albert designed the cover and I absolutely love it. Thanks, Dar!

Juniper

Guest: Cindy Jacks

The fabulous Cindy Jacks has a new release out with Ellora's Cave -- and it's one of my favorite themes, a sexy Cougar story. Here's a delicious Hump Day sample of WAKING MAGGIE.

BLURB

Maggie’s just decided she’s been stood up when she bumps into hard-bodied guitarist Calvin—literally. Once the shock of their abrupt meeting wears off, Calvin asks Maggie out for a drink and she figures, why not? She’s all dressed up for a date…just not this one.

She enjoys his company, even if he’s only twenty-seven and she’s forty…something. And while witty conversation’s all good, they’re just as compatible in bed. One drink turns into multiple romps between the sheets. He’s old enough to know how to make love to a woman and young enough to look damn fine doing it…and doing it. He even manages to convince Maggie she’s still pretty hot herself.

Now if he would just stop serenading her with that infernal Rod Stewart song.

An Excerpt From: WAKING MAGGIE

Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

The sound of a gently strummed guitar roused Maggie from sleep. Eyelids flickering open, she saw Calvin sitting in the tufted chair next to the bed, his acoustic guitar on his lap. A lazy smile tugged at her lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Good morning, babe.” He shifted his grip on the fretboard to strike a chord and then slid his fingers back to another. “I’m serenading you…obviously.”

“Is it after ten?” Maggie sat up, stretched.

“Of course. And there’s coffee on your nightstand.”

With delight, she picked up the steaming mug and inhaled—Viennese roast, her favorite. The first sip slid down her throat, smooth as velvet.

He turned his attention to the guitar again and started singing under his breath.

She rolled her eyes. “You know I hate that song.”

Calvin chuckled, a boyish gleam in his hazel eyes. “But I’m sure Rod Stewart wrote it for you.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not that old.”

Continuing to strum the melody, he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

As Maggie’s gaze roamed over the young man’s taut, muscular body, she noticed he was sitting there stark naked, the guitar covering some of his most admirable attributes.

Her eye grew wide. “What have I done to deserve a morning serenade with you au naturel?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, plucking individual notes.

A gust of wind outside the bedroom window drew her attention. The great oak out back danced, shaking loose a few vermillion leaves.

“Of course I remember,” she murmured, setting down her cup and rising from the bed. Smoothing her silk nightie over her ample curves, she padded across the shag carpet and kissed his soft cheek. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

He stopped playing and set aside the guitar, revealing a red ribbon around his cock. “Are you ready for your present?”

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Maggie let out a yelp of amusement. “You’re certifiable, you know that?”

She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Messy blonde curls cascaded down to her shoulders and her eyes looked a little puffy from sleep. Skin not quite as fresh and tight as his—maybe the morning sun really did show her age, as the song stated. Still, not bad for a women of forty-something.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her onto his lap. She twined her fingers through his longish bronze hair. A hungry smirk on his face, he brushed his lips over hers. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh.

“We should unwrap you before you cut off your circulation,” she said, pulling one end of the ribbon.

CLICK TO BUY

Happy Wednesday! Soon I'll have some information about an Easter Blog Hop I'll be taking part in. Lots of great authors and prizes. More to come!

Peace and Love,

Juniper

Welcome Darah Lace!

I'd like to welcome my fellow Ellora's Cave author Darah Lace to my blog! If you like hot cowboys (what's not to like?) and a little kink, you should definitely check out BUCKING HARD.

Here's the blurb and an excerpt:

All her life, tomboy Bradi Kincaid has wanted two things—a career as a veterinarian in her hometown Grayson, Texas…and Mason Montgomery. Problem is, he’s her best friend and according to him she’s “one of the guys”. Convinced he’ll never see her otherwise, Bradi comes up with a sure-fire plan to get over Mason—flirt a little, dance a lot and get laid.

What Mason imagines doing to Bradi is just all kinds of wrong. But the woman on the dance floor isn’t the girl he grew up with. She’s hot and sexy and turning him on. Him and every other man in the bar. She’s also had too much to drink and is unaware of the trouble she’s inviting. He does what any friend would, he steps in, then sets out to teach her a lesson.

But before the sun rises, Mason discovers Bradi has a thing or two to teach him.

This story contains spanking, biting and some “tie me up”, bucking-hard sex.

An Excerpt From: BUCKING HARD

Copyright © DARAH LACE, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Mason crested the hill overlooking the creek and reined in Rocky, his favored mount for riding the range. He’d heard the bawling calf a quarter mile away and figured he’d find it stuck in the mud. He hadn’t expected to find Bradi Kincaid. In fact if he’d known she’d already ridden to the rescue, he would have headed the other way.

But here she was not ten feet away, ass in the air, up to her knees in green slime and mud, her arms around the struggling calf’s neck, and she still managed to light a fire in his gut. And dammit, that was just all wrong.

They were best friends, for Christ’s sake. Practically raised in the cradle together. They’d fished and hunted side by side, ridden drag to bring up the tail end of cattle drives. And they’d gotten into more trouble than a switch could whip out of them. She was his best bud, one of the guys.

So why did his dick suddenly become a divining rod every time she was near?

She wasn’t unattractive. But Bradi was nothing like the women he preferred. She wasn’t sleek or polished or sophisticated. Her fingernails were cut close to keep the dirt out instead of long and meticulously painted to match her outfit. Her dirty blonde hair was either in a ponytail or a braid, and as far as he knew, had never been streaked, colored or cut to the latest fashion. And she might carry ChapStick in her front right pocket to ward off the blistering Texas sun, but that was the extent of her makeup.

Bradi was Bradi—natural, earthy and blessed with athletic grace that made ranch work look easy—and more often than not these days left him wondering what that lithe and flexible body would be like in bed.

“You gonna sit there all day, or are you gonna help me?”

Leaning forward to rest his forearm on the saddle horn and hopefully hide his growing erection, he tilted his head to one side and smirked at the picture she made. “I don’t know. You look like you’re doing just fine on your own.”

She blew wispy bangs out of her green eyes and gave him a withering glare over her shoulder. “Throw me a rope.”

“Where’s yours?” He looked around for her horse but the only other animal in sight was a cow waiting for Bradi to rescue her calf. “Wait, don’t tell me. You were riding Dahlia.”

That damn horse had a habit of leaving Bradi high and—his gaze wandered over her again—not so dry. Covered in muck, the front of her faded yellow T-shirt was wet and clung to her breasts. Breasts he’d known she possessed but never really noticed until two weeks ago. His gaze locked on the words peeling across the chest. Not that he cared what they said with her nipples prodding so diligently through her bra.

Mentally castrating himself, Mason sat up and reached for the coiled rope attached to his saddle. “When are you going to take that piece-of-shit horse to the glue factory?”

“Just shut up and throw me your rope.”

Ignoring her demand, Mason swung the lasso and sent it sailing over the calf’s head. He pulled the rope taut, wrapped it around the saddle horn, and directed his horse to back up. The little bull cried louder as the mud slowly relinquished its hold. As soon as the calf’s legs found firm ground, he dug in, resisting the pull of the rope.

Bradi laughed and reached for the calf just as it wrenched to one side and kicked. Twisting, she dodged a hind leg, but her feet were still stuck in the mud and she went to her knees. Another kick and brown sludge splattered her chest and neck. “Shit.”

Mason chuckled. “Yep, I imagine so.”

Shooting him another scathing glare, she struggled to stand. “You’re an ass.” Able to finally extract one leg and then the other, she trudged out of the creek toward the calf. “Give me some slack.”

He signaled his horse forward and Bradi deftly slipped the rope from the calf’s neck. The bull bolted for its mama and together they ambled up and over the high bank then disappeared. Looking back at Bradi, Mason wished he hadn’t.

She’d moved up the creek and knelt in a spot of grass to wash the mud from her hands. Tight faded denim hugged her heart-shaped ass and his hands itched to palm those mounds. She stretched to wet a bandana, causing the waistband of her jeans to dip lower, and a strip of hot-pink lace played peek-a-boo between it and her shirt.

His jeans tightened as his cock strained against his fly. He’d never thought about what kind of underwear Bradi wore—she was naked in his recent fantasies—but if he had consciously thought about it, he wouldn’t have figured her for the lace panty type. Last time he’d seen her in her panties, she’d worn white cotton with a Barbie logo. They’d been six and he’d wanted to brag about his Ninja Turtle briefs.

As she rose, he looked away to gather the rope. He stowed it behind him and turned to find her standing beside his horse with her hand out. Fuck. She wanted a ride. And god, he wanted to give her one.

“Well?” She thrust her hand higher. “Give me a hand up.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He hadn’t thought this far ahead when he’d decided to stick around and help, and his brain certainly wasn’t working now. All he knew was he couldn’t have her sitting behind him, her tits rubbing his back, legs spread… Fuck. “You’re covered with mud.”

“Um, yeah. I kinda noticed that.” She stared up at him with expectant green eyes. Why hadn’t he ever noticed the flecks of gold or the ring of black that reminded him of the sun coming through shadowed forest trees? At his lack of response, her hand fell to her side. “You’re going to make me walk?”

“I don’t want that shit all over me.” Damn, he felt like an ass. He was an ass. He couldn’t let her walk. He’d just have to survive the ride home…and make sure it was a short one.

Before he could offer his hand or an apology, her eyes flashed with anger. And maybe a bit of hurt? “God, Mason, when did you turn into such a pussy?”

She spun around and the metallic whir of a zipper crawled up his thighs and into his balls. Lust rose high but panic shifted into overdrive. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes so you won’t get dirty.”

Oh, hell no! There was no way— Shit. She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her jeans, starting the downward motion that revealed a hint of one cheek.

“Just get on the damn horse.” He pulled his foot from the stirrup and stuck out his hand. “But I can’t take you home.” His place was closer. “I have things to do.”

A long second passed, then the zipper made a return trip up. His dick jerked in disappointment as she latched on to his hand, shoved her boot into the stirrup and swung herself onto the horse behind him, mimicking his irritated tone. “Things to do.”

The warmth of her body seared his back as she settled into place. His gaze dropped to one side, taking in the slender thigh nestled close to his. The thought of those long legs wrapped around his waist made his balls ache. If she had any idea what she was doing to him, she’d be glad to walk home. Hell, she’d probably run.

But Bradi wasn’t wired that way. He doubted she ever thought about sex. She’d never dated in high school and she never talked about anyone in particular at A&M. The only conversation they’d had about sex was short-lived when he confided his loss of virginity to Katrina Forbes and Bradi made it clear right away the subject of sex was off-limits.

The odds of her still being a virgin at twenty-five were slim, but somehow he couldn’t imagine her having sex with anyone.

Anyone but him.

Click here for more.

Darah's website.

GO WILD Release Date

I just got a big surprise from my Ellora's Cave editor (the fabulous Jillian B.) -- my newest book GO WILD is coming out on February 4! Whee!!

Here's the blurb and cover. I'm really excited about this book and am already working on the next one in the series. All the books are set in the fictional town of Wild, Alaska during a very naughty winter festival called Wild Nights. Enjoy!

Go Wild

Juniper Bell

Lars loves Katia. Katia loves Lars. Lars wants to marry Katia. Can he convince his free-spirited lover that marriage will be as fun as her sexually adventurous single days?

Never before has Katia been tempted to give up her carefree ways. She’s deeply in love with Lars, but she doesn’t know if he can handle her wild side—or needs.

But Lars is a hard man to resist. The former Olympic champion won’t give up—not when he knows just how to please her.

The people of Wild, Alaska know the best way to survive winter is to let off a little steam. When Lars’ buddies hit town for Wild Nights, a notorious winter festival with one rule—“anything goes, nothing counts”—he jumps at the chance to prove he’s the perfect man for Katia.

He vows to win her over, even if it takes four rugged Alaska men and one wildly erotic night in a sauna.

Note: Features an extended ménage (M/F/M/M/M), anal play and references to bondage experimentation and sexual escapades of all types.

My Three Lords - Now Available

My Three Lords is now available for download from Ellora's Cave. Enjoy!

My Three Lords - Official Excerpt

An Excerpt From: MY THREE LORDS
Copyright © JUNIPER BELL, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“I make you two promises, Alicia. The first is that I shall not take your maidenhead. Only one man may do so, and that is your husband. The second is that tonight you will experience more pleasure than you’ve ever imagined, thanks to me. If the Earl were here tonight, you’d receive no gentle caresses, no stroking such as I intend to give you. Your nipples would be left untouched, save for a rough tweak or two. Whereas I intend to savor their sweetness and watch them stand to attention like pink sentinels of your desire.”

Pinned as if I were a helpless butterfly, I lost myself in the soothing cadence of his speech. I became aware of the heat and strength of his body, and an unfamiliar tingling in my belly.

“You may think you prefer the Earl, but you’d regret it deeply. Your deflowering would be painful rather than pleasurable. Harsh rather than sweet. Such an event in a young girl’s life should bring tears of joy along with the tears of pain. That is what I offer, and the Earl, cognizant of your best interests as well as his own, has allowed me to provide this service. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and when he didn’t respond, whispered, “Yes.”

“Then come. Rise now.”

The weight lifted off me and he helped me to my feet. When I stood facing him, I saw a look such as I’d never seen on his jaded face before. He looked almost tender. Slowly, gently, he traced the skin along the edge of my loosened stays. I felt a prickling in the tips of my breasts. When I looked down at myself, my nipples were just as he said, pink and standing up under the layers of undergarments. He hooked his finger in the busk between my breasts. My breath caught.

“I won’t proceed further unless I have your full consent. Despite my reputation, I am not in the habit of forcing my attentions on unwilling girls. I must know that you accept what I’m offering you, fully and completely.”

His black gaze seared into me, as if he could see all the hidden corners of my soul. And perhaps he could, because God help me, I wanted the things he’d promised, and more. I wanted to lie down on the bed and roll myself in the bedclothes, or strip off my chemise and run outside under the stars. I didn’t fully understand what was happening to me. My body felt heavy and yet light at the same time.

“I do,” I whispered. “I accept.”

His eyes glittered in the candlelight. I felt dizzy. For a moment, I was back in the barn at home, caught with a goatherd’s hand hovering over my breast. I’d looked up in alarm at the sound of soft laughter. The sight of the Marquis’ delighted, mocking smile had turned me to stone.
There had been another feeling as well, a charge in the air that had made my skin prickle.
I felt it again as his eyes deliberately consumed my body, top to toe. Under my eyelashes, I performed an inspection of my own. The Marquis was not a bad-looking man, slender of build, perhaps a head taller than myself. As always, he was dressed in the height of fashion, with an embroidered cream waistcoat and a splendid coat of dark blue superfine that fit him to perfection. He always appeared to be mocking the world around him, but over the years I had on occasion seen him perform small kindnesses that surprised me.

“There has always been a special feeling between us, has there not?” As he spoke, he deftly removed my stays until I stood in nothing more than my chemise. I shivered at his nearness. Not for the first time, I thought what a powerful man he was, not in physique but in presence…a powerful man inclined to darkness.

He picked up a candle and slowly walked around me, shining its light on my body. The warmth from the candle paled in comparison to the penetrating weight of his gaze. I fixed my eyes on the pretty dressing table on the far side of the room. I counted five silver-backed brushes and considered attempting to count the individual bristles to distract myself from the strange feelings stealing over me.

A gentle touch on my posterior made me start. His hand cupped my bottom and warmth flooded my being. How could such a simple touch create such an uproar within me? With a firm hand and wandering fingers, he stroked my flesh. I felt the back of my chemise inch up my legs. The feel of his fingertips roaming across the backs of my thighs was so exquisite, I closed my eyes so the pleasure would continue.

“Ah no, my dear, you are not allowed to close your eyes. I want you to fully comprehend that it is I, the dreaded Marquis de Beaumont, who is bringing you this enjoyment. Whose hands are now stroking your tender buttocks?”

Tendrils of fire seemed to spread across my bottom as he quickened his touch. “Yours,” I gasped.

“And who intends to remove this interfering chemise from your body?”

My throat became suddenly parched. If he removed my chemise, I would be naked before the most notorious rake in England. “You,” I whispered. “But, please…”

“Yes?” His fingers danced up the curve of my spine and my belly seemed to quiver in response. Cool air caressed my back as he drew up the chemise. “Ah, so lovely. I’ve waited a very long time for this moment.”

I clutched the front of it to my chest. My head was such a confusing swarm of thoughts, I didn’t know what I wanted to say. Please continue. Stop this instant. The two opposite impulses battled in my mind. “Why me?” I managed. “Why a long time?”

“Why you?” My question did not make him pause in his intrusions on my body. Every inch of exposed skin drew a caress or a pat from his relentless, curious, knowing hands. Every touch sent a cascade of shivers across my flesh. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but you first caught my eye as a girl dashing after your brothers. You ran directly into me, like a Spanish bull into a cape. I have been accustomed to find myself a figure of fright for young girls. But you seemed to have no fear of me. I plucked you off the ground and held you high. You looked back at me with those frank eyes of yours, whose color I find no words for, somewhere in the mysterious realm between gray and blue, and you said, quite simply, “You were directly in my path. You will please to put me down now.” And so I did, and watched, bemused, as you raced away to join your brothers. At that moment I knew you were an unusual girl.”

By this time he was in front of me, loosing my hands from their grip on my chemise. I looked up at him and found myself surprised by a hint of softness in his usually sharp eyes.

“This chemise,” he told me softly, “can hide nothing from me. I know your soul, ma chérie, perhaps better than you do yourself. You desire things you cannot name. You sense it in the springtime air, the moonlight over a stream, the scent of lilacs in the sunshine. The world promises you something just beyond your senses, something you cannot grasp, simply because you don’t yet know how. I will show you how, my dear."

Release Date for My Three Lords

July 28!

That's when Ellora's Cave will release My Three Lords as part of their Exotika line. That's the super-sexy one. Hey, this story may be a Regency, but it's also sizzling-hot.

Hmmm...aren't you just dying to know what those three bare-chested noblemen are going to do with that girl? All will be revealed on July 28. *smile*

Juniper Bell

My Three Lords - Excerpt (unedited)

My wonderful editor has given me permission to post this UNEDITED excerpt from My Three Lords. (As long as I point out that it's unedited.) So here goes.

“I make you two promises, Alicia. The first is that I shall not take your maidenhead. Only one man may do so, and that is your husband. The second is that tonight you will experience more pleasure than you’ve ever imagined, thanks to me. If the Earl were here tonight, you’d receive no gentle caresses, no stroking such as I intend to give you. Your nipples would be left untouched, save for a rough tweak or two. Whereas I intend to savor their sweetness and watch them stand to attention like pink sentinels of your desire.”

Pinned as if I were a helpless butterfly, I lost myself in the soothing cadence of his speech. I became aware of the heat and strength of his body, and an unfamiliar tingling in my belly.

“You may think you prefer the Earl, but you’d regret it deeply. Your deflowering would be painful rather than pleasurable. Harsh rather than sweet. Such an event in a young girl’s life should bring tears of joy along with the tears of pain. That is what I offer, and the Earl, cognizant of your best interests as well as his own, has allowed me to provide this service. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and when he didn’t respond, whispered, “Yes.”

“Then come. Rise now.”

The weight lifted off me, and he helped me to my feet. When I stood facing him, I saw a look such as I’d never seen on his cynical face before. He looked almost tender. Slowly, gently, he traced the skin along the edge of my loosened petticoat. I felt a prickling in the tips of my breasts. When I looked down at myself, the nipples were just as he said, pink and standing up through the layers of undergarments. He hooked his finger in the lacy border between my breasts. My breath caught.

“I won’t proceed further unless I have your full consent. Despite my reputation, I am not in the habit of forcing my attentions on unwilling girls. I must know that you accept what I’m offering you, fully and completely.”

His black gaze seared into me, as if he could see all the hidden corners of my soul. And perhaps he could, because God help me, I wanted the things he’d promised, and more. I wanted to lie down on the bed and roll myself in the bedclothes, or strip off my chemise and run outside under the stars. I didn’t fully understand what was happening to me. My body felt heavy and yet light at the same time.

“I do,” I whispered. “I accept.”

His eyes glittered in the candlelight. I felt dizzy. For a moment, I was back in the barn at home, caught with a goatherd’s hand hovering over my breast. I’d looked up in alarm at the sound of soft laughter. The sight of the Marquis’s delighted, mocking smile had turned me to stone.

There had been another feeling as well, a charge in the air that made my skin prickle.

I felt it again as his eyes deliberately consumed my body, top to toe. Under my eyelashes, I performed an inspection of my own. The Marquis was not a bad-looking man, slender of build, perhaps a head taller than myself. As always, he was dressed in the height of fashion, with plum-colored breeches and a splendid coat of superfine that fit him to perfection. He always appeared to be mocking the world around him, but over the years I had on occasion seen him perform small kindnesses that surprised me.

“There has always been a special feeling between us, has there not?” As he spoke, he deftly removed my petticoat and stays until I stood in nothing more than a chemise. I shivered at his nearness. Not for the first time, I thought what a powerful man he was, not in physique but in presence…a powerful man inclined to darkness.

He picked up a candle and slowly walked around me, shining its light on my body. The warmth from the candle paled in comparison to the penetrating weight of his gaze. I fixed my eyes on the pretty vanity on the far side of the room. I counted five silver brushes and considered attempting to count the individual bristles to distract myself from the strange feelings stealing over me.

A gentle touch on my posterior made me start. His hand cupped my bottom and warmth flooded my being. How could such a simple touch create such an uproar within me? With a firm hand and wandering fingers, he stroked my flesh. I felt the back of my chemise inch up my legs. The feel of his fingertips roaming across the backs of my thighs was so exquisite, I closed my eyes so the pleasure would continue.

“Ah no, my dear, you are not allowed to close your eyes. I want you to fully comprehend that it is I, the dreaded Marquis de Beaumont, who is bringing you this enjoyment. Whose hands are now stroking your tender buttocks?”

Tendrils of fire seemed to spread across my bottom as he quickened his touch. “Yours,” I gasped.

“And who intends to remove this interfering chemise from your body?”

My throat became suddenly parched. If he removed my chemise, I would be naked before the most notorious rake in England. “You,” I whispered. “But, please…”

“Yes?” His fingers danced up the curve of my spine and my belly seemed to quiver in response. Cool air caressed my back as he drew up the chemise. “Ah, so lovely. I’ve waited a very long time for this moment.”

I clutched the front of it to my chest. My head was such a confusing swarm of thoughts, I didn’t know what I wanted to say. Please continue. Stop this instant. The two opposite impulses battled in my mind. “Why me?” I managed.

“Why you?” My question did not make him pause in his intrusions on my body. Every inch of exposed skin drew a caress or a pat from his relentless, curious, knowing hands. Every touch sent a cascade of shivers across my flesh. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but you first caught my eye as a girl dashing after your brothers. You ran directly into me, like a Spanish bull into a cape. I have been accustomed to find myself a figure of fright for young girls. But you seemed to have no fear of me. I plucked you off the ground and held you high. You looked back at me with those frank eyes of yours, whose color I find no words for, somewhere in the mysterious realm between gray and blue, and you said, quite simply, “You were directly in my path. You will please to put me down now.” And so I did, and watched, bemused, as you raced away to join your brothers. At that moment I knew you were an unusual girl.”

By this time he was in front of me, loosing my hands from their grip on my chemise. I looked up at him and found myself surprised by a hint of softness in his usually sharp eyes.

“This chemise,” he told me softly, “can hide nothing from me. I know your soul, my dear, perhaps better than you do yourself. You desire things you cannot name. You sense it in the springtime air, the moonlight over a stream, the scent of lilacs in the sunshine. The world promises you something just beyond your senses, something you cannot grasp, simply because you don’t yet know how. I will show you how, my dear."

Thanks for reading! Did I mention it's unedited? My Three Lords is coming soon from Ellora's Cave Exotika line. As soon as I know the release date, I'll share it here.

Peace and love, Juniper

Nicole Austin's "Kenna's Cowboy"

I'd like to welcome Ellora's Cave author Nicole Austin to my blog! Her 19th release, Kenna's Cowboy, is out today, and I get to share the hotness with a excerpt. This book is part of a 5 book series she's written with Ellora’s Cave authors TJ Michaels, Ciana Stone & NJ Walters.

BLURB

Cursed with unusual abilities, orphan McKenna Fulton has always been different, an outcast. But she’s been Chosen.

More accurately, she is one of the Chosen. Eight individuals—four women and four men—selected at birth to guard slices of crystal. The Heart of Fire.

The whole thing is more than a little farfetched. Kenna can handle the part of getting down and dirty with the bad dude. She’s even okay with guarding a crystal. But losing her free will and being stuck with some guy, her destined mate, uh-uh. Not happening.

Local mechanic Ryker Thomas is more than he appears and has his own set of abilities. Kenna wants nothing to do with the southern charmer. So what if he has a matching crystal and the damn things hum and vibrate whenever they’re close together. That doesn’t mean she’ll toe the line.

He can’t be the one she’s supposed to be with. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to send her a cowboy when what she wants is a bad boy.

EXCERPT

©Copyright Nicole Austin

Note: This excerpt is intended for those readers 18 years old or older.

Excerpt:

“Kiss me, cowboy.”

Ryker had every intention of fulfilling Kenna’s request and then some. He’d wanted to get to know the strong, enigmatic woman since her first day in town. She’d managed to keep her distance but not anymore. Now that he had her all to himself, he had no intention of letting go.

His hands slid around her waist and he pulled her soft curves against his solid frame. God, she fit him just right. Built like a brick house—tall, curvy and stacked—she was perfect. Full tits cushioned his chest almost as sweetly as her soft belly nestled the length of his aching cock.

With the first brush of their lips she purred and melted into him. Her lips parted in silent invitation, testing his resolve to go slow. He traced the pouty shape of her lush pink mouth, instantly addicted to her spicy cinnamon taste. It suited her, as did the dark, tough-chick clothes she wore.

Kenna was no fragile rose to be kept sheltered and there was nothing tentative in her kiss. She met his lips head on, her fierce passion draining all the blood from his thinking head and funneling it straight to his randy dick. Her tongue shot past his lips, delving and tasting, driving his hunger higher. He followed as she retreated only to have her suck on his lower lip and snap his control.

Following the curves of her ass, he cupped the firm cheeks and gave her a quick squeeze before grasping her thighs. As he lifted, she wrapped those gorgeous legs around his waist, hooking her ankles and holding on tight. He groaned and she drank down the sound as he set her on the fender of Joey’s car, freeing his hands to explore.

Kenna devoured him, plain and simple. She sucked on his tongue and he had no trouble picturing her on her knees showing such avid attention to his cock. Her hands got in on the act, first gripping his shoulders then moving lower, flowing over his chest as if she were blind and reading his body by Braille.

“Oh shit. You’re bleeding.” She went from feeling him up to ripping at his shirt. Two strong tugs and the material gave, splitting down the middle.

Bleeding?

Ryker glanced down, trying to figure out what she was going on about. A dark red stain marred the tattered blue material. He hadn’t taken part in the fight, didn’t feel any pain, so how the hell could he be bleeding?

She grabbed the braided leather around his neck and tossed the pendant over his shoulder. “Keep that away from me.”

Why the hell did she have against his necklace? She wore a strikingly similar one. Not that it mattered when the fingers stroking every inch of his chest into a frenzy almost distracted him from the genuine concern in her big violet-colored eyes.

Jesus! He couldn’t remember the last time someone worried about him. Kenna also looked fighting mad, ready to tear apart anyone stupid enough to have caused him harm.

His heart turned over in his chest and pounded a wild rhythm against his ribs. Ryker caught her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles with reverence. “I’m fine. It’s not my blood, darlin’.”

Kenna looked deep into his eyes for the space of several stuttered heartbeats then thrust her fingers into his hair, unseating his hat. She tugged, pulling him into a punishing kiss. They were both panting for air when they surfaced sometime later.

The loud slap of her palm connecting with his face echoed through the garage. Ryker rubbed at his stinging cheek and glared. “What the hell was that for?”

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

Damn, she had a lot of spunk. And the fierce protective gleam in her eyes—what a fucking turn-on. His cock jerked against the painful constriction of his jeans in agreement. While he was dying to plunge deep inside Kenna, he wouldn’t be rushed. Not with her. This was too important to screw up. “I’ll try my best, darlin’.”

The primitive instinct to claim and mark this woman as his was nearly overpowering his desire to give her more pleasure than she’d ever known. Deep down an inner conviction assured him they had a lifetime ahead of them but it didn’t ease his driving need to fuck her senseless.

“You have too many clothes on.”

“Mmm…so do you, cowboy.” Her lascivious smile had the same effect as a mainlined shot of pure adrenaline. “How about shucking those jeans.”

His cock throbbed and his jeans sported a wet spot. Ryker wasted no time toeing off his sneakers, peeling away both his jeans and briefs in one swoop, then shrugging off the tattered remains of his shirt. He pulled a foil packet from his pants pocket and held it in his hand.

“Your turn.”

To buy Kenna's Cowboy, click here. And to find out more about Nicole and her books, click here to visit her website.

Thanks for sharing, Nicole!