BEDDING THE HIGHLANDER by Sabrina York

BEDDING THE HIGHLANDER

By Sabrina York

Only a Scot can steal her heart.

There's nothing ladylike about Katherine Killin. She's a spitfire who cannot be tamed. To rid himself of her, and to honor a truce set by the Duke of Glencoe, her father agrees to wed her to his clan's mortal enemy, Ben Rannoch. But when Katherine meets the enticingly masculine Kurt Rannoch, brother of her betrothed, she suddenly craves domination.

BookShots Flames

Original romances presented by JAMES PATTERSON

Novels you can devour in a few hours

Impossible to stop reading

READ AN EXCERPT!

It was a glorious ride. Kate wanted to throw out her arms, turn her face to the downpour, and revel in the moment. Racing across the lea with Kirk, warm and strong behind her, was magnificent.

She’d always loved storms and the savage beauty of nature. It made her feel one with the world. Alive. But there had never been a more exhilarating tempest than this.

She could taste the acrid scent of lightning on her tongue, feel the crackle of its energy in her hair. Danger stalked them, and it excited her.

But something else did too.

An enormous, muscled man, held her tightly, breathing against her neck in harsh pants. The movement of their bodies against each other created a friction as they rode in manic union. The damp heat of the plaid conjoined them and an earthy scent rose between them.

Ah, it was splendid.

It was nearly a disappointment when it ended, when he slowed and guided the horse to an outcropping protruding from the rocky tor.

And then, he slid from the horse, leaving her alone and suddenly cold. When she frowned at him as he reached up for her, he stilled. “Are you all right, lassie?”

“Aye,” she said, setting her hands on his broad shoulders and allowing him to ease her down. Lord, he was large. So hard and strong. So…tantalizing with his fierce expression. She didn’t bother to hide her shudder.

“You’re freezing,” he said in a low, feral growl.

She was not. She was on fire.

The thrill of the manic ride, the exhilaration of their near disaster, and the pure elation of life and living pulsed in her veins. Which was why she stepped toward him, rather than stepping away. Why she reached up and cupped his nape. Why she tugged him down and whispered, “You saved me.”

And she kissed him.

Surely she intended it only to be a kiss of gratitude, one of pure and simple thanks. It was meant to be quick and passionless and chaste.

Perhaps she had been deluding herself, because she fiercely wanted, to the depth of her being, to taste him.

Glory. It was a mind-numbing kiss. It began as a brush of her lips against his. But then, transfixed by the flavor of his breath, the velvet caress of his mouth, she lingered. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tightened. She eased closer and sealed them together from chest to groin.

Though he allowed this familiarity, she could tell he was resisting the urge to kiss her back. His muscles bunched, he arched away.

The thought annoyed her so she tipped her head and deepened the kiss, pressing her tongue between his lips.

He made a sound, something like a growl, and he broke the kiss completely.

In a rush, he whipped her into his embrace and backed her against the wall. She loved his power, the heat of his muscles, his raging passion. But even more, she loved that he did not give rein to his savagery.

Even now, as he consumed her in a series of hungry kisses, he held back. Refrained from crushing her against the granite tor.

With a growl, he reared back and stared at her. “Lass, you tempt me,” he said in a gravely tone.

She tried to hold back her smile, and failed.

“We canna do this.”

Ah, her mood plummeted. And the least of her despair was her plot to scuttle the wedding to his brother. Her body hummed with a desire she’d never experienced before. It was a soul-deep yearning. A need.

To her surprise, he chuckled, and that irked her. “What is so funny?” she snapped. Did he not know how she ached?

“Lass, lass.” He stroked her hair and cupped her cheek in an attempt to soothe her. She scowled at him. He would have to do better than that. Yet what did he do? He chuckled again and pulled her into his arms, though she remained stiff. “I have work to do before we play,” he murmured. He said this in a teasing tone, one that indicated there would indeed be more kissing.

More of…everything.

GET IT NOW ON AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/Bedding-Highlander-Bookshots-Flames-Sabrina/dp/0316466972

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous romances. Her titles range from sweet & snarky to scorching romance in historical, contemporary and fantasy sub-genres. Represented by Nicole Rescinti at the Seymour Agency  Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bj8tKb

CONNECT   

Follow my Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/sabrinayork

Friend my Facebook Profile Page https://www.facebook.com/sabrina.york.14

Like my Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/SabrinaYorkBooks  

Follow me on Twitter @sabrina_york https://twitter.com/sabrina_york

Follow me on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5817917.Sabrina_York

Check out my Pintrest boards: http://www.pinterest.com/sabrinayork/boards/

Street Team: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/12s46UGgNUze1c3o3L8jIlXiLuhR5cFZjR83SCMElfw8/viewform?c=0&w=1&usp=mail_form_link  

Join the conversation on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/SabrinaYorkChatAndContests/

Lured into the Mists of Venice... #RB4U #RomFantasy #MFRWauthor

A few years back, while listening to the music of my friend Riccardo Foresi, an idea settled into my mind… months later another friend took photos for me while in Venice and caught the image that was to become the cover for this short, eerie little tale… I hope you enjoy this peek into an almost psychological seduction and terror…

Inspired by the music of Riccardo Foresi, the photography of Vincenzo Chiofalo, and the eternal lure of Gaston LeRoux’s The Phantom of the Opera… discover what awaits… 

WITHIN THE MIST

(Short sensual paranormal)

Amazon • Smashwords • Kobo • Barnes & Noble • iTunes

Tagline: The evening air of a Winter in Venice cloaks many things… Passion, destiny, sorrow… Perhaps even the spectre of death waits within the mist…

Blurb: The misty evening air of a Winter in Venice cloaks many things…. Some who are passionate lovers hoping for stolen moments….. others who are merely the cutthroats and thieves that plague any city filled with the wealth of visitors and citizens of palaces….. But what else lies hidden within the mist? The voice of an angel lures…. each perfect note beckons and promises untold pleasures…. until, finally, a broken heart succumbs to desire…. and Fate weaves a new thread into the tapestry that is the mystery of life itself….

Excerpt:

He continued to sing, the lyrical, lilting Italian words caressing her spirit and pulling her closer to him. When she finally stepped into the chamber where he was, she stared in wonder. The room was lit with what appeared to be a thousand candles, their soft glow reflecting off the polished wooden floor and throwing frenetic shadows everywhere. Seated at the piano was a slender man, dressed all in black. His hair was dark, and the hands that whispered over the keys of the instrument were long-fingered and elegant. Hands shaped for making love in any form he chose.

He played the last notes of the mesmerizing song and slowly turned to look at her. His dark eyes glittered, flames dancing wildly in their ebony depths, and he held out his hand to draw her forward. She went to him and dropped to her knees, head bowed, tears streaking her face as she let the hood of her cape fall to hide her shame.

“You came to end my life. Why?”

“I cannot bear the pain of not knowing you.”

“But you do know me. I am part of you.”

“You are madness!” She retorted with real anger surging into her being, giving her strength and making her look up at him. “You have taken everything!”

“I took nothing,” he admonished with gentle warmth. “I am part of you.”

“How can that be?”

He smiled. She felt the kiss of his indulgence touch her heart.

“You created me,” he murmured. “The night he died, you gave me life.”

She was confused, and the room was suddenly growing colder with each beat of her heart.

“Why did you let me find you?”

He tilted his head to one side and considered her question.

“Perhaps because it is time for me to return the gift of life to you, tesoro mio?”

“You can’t,” she whispered, the quiet words shaken and harsh. “There is no life for me now.”

“There is always life in death, amore,” he murmured as he leaned closer and pried the blade from her hand beneath the heavy cloak. “Let me show you forever.”

She gasped in fright and pain as he slashed the dagger’s edge across her palm and brought the bleeding hand to his mouth. When his tongue played over her flesh she felt the mists of the night invade her brain, and blackness reached out to pull her into a chasm that exploded into fire racing along her veins… As the world changed around her and within her, she heard his sweet voice whispering to her…

There is always life in death, amore mio… when I am death… come with me, share our journey…

“Yes…”

She heard the word, distant, torn from her soul purely by the power and depth of her need to know him, to know all of him, at whatever price he asked. The ache in her body pulled at her, made her feel light and heavy with conflicting desires.

The dagger flashed again, slowly, gently slicing through the tie that held her cape together at her throat. It slid away and he smiled with satisfaction when he saw the crimson silk she wore, a simple dress that wrapped around her like the arms of a lover… She had been wearing this pretty gown the night they’d first seen each other, choosing it had seem right somehow.

The gleaming stiletto blade moved once more, and candlelight flickered against the shining silver as he delicately cut the tie that held the dress up. He set the knife on the piano and with the backs of his hands barely touching her skin, he smoothed the shape of her collarbones, then retraced them with the sensitive pads of his fingertips. The calluses from hours spent playing the piano added another sensual layer to the rippling sensation that was fanning outward, running though her veins like blood.

Amazon • Smashwords • Kobo • Barnes & Noble • iTunes

As an award-winning, best-selling author, Denysé Bridger writes about a multitude of things, always with a touch of romance, passion, and fantasy. Her heroes are solid, driven alpha men who are willing to do whatever it takes to win the heroine’s heart and trust, while her heroines are strong, emotionally courageous women who put their hearts on the line for the men they love. Passionate, honorable characters drive Denysé’s stories, in whatever genre you find them in.

Website  *  Blog  *  Newsletter

Cats by Janice Seagraves

Photo purchased from fotolia

Cats seem to find their way into my stories.

In Windswept Shores Two, Megan is finally home but finds out her philandering husband has gotten rid of everything of hers, including her cat.

In Werecat Love (no longer available), the main character is a cat shifter.

In Matrix Crystal River, the heroine bonds with a shadow cat she names Fluffy. (The name of the  kitten I had as a child.)

In Alien Heart, the Arcons living Goddess is a cat. The Egyptian Cat Goddess Bast (Basset) to be precise.

And the funny thing is, I'm not really all that partial to cats. I'm more of a dog person.

Don't get me wrong, I do like cats and we have a cat named Freya.

photo taken by Janice Seagraves

Jared in Werecat love was inspired by my cat Baron. I miss him.

Photo taken by Janice Seagraves

And, I'm not seeing any end in sight for my fascination with thrusting cats into my stories, novels, and romances. Which is good news if you're a cat lover and enjoying reading about my felines. 

Currently I'm planing on republishing Werecat Love with the second story, which is much too long now to add to the anthology I was intending it for.

The second story called Year of the Cat, start off the following day after Werecat Love ends.

Here's an unedited excerpt:

Jared found the plates and set the table. He also brought over glasses and filled them with milk. They dished out the food and dug in, but Jared only picked at his meal.

Morgan frowned. “I ordered you fish and shrimp Chow Mein. I thought being a werecat you’d love it.”

“I do.” He speared a shrimp with his fork and slowly ate it.

“That was for show.” She pointed her chopsticks at him. “What’s with you?”

“Nothin’.” He picked up his glass and drank. Over the rim of his glass his gaze locked on to hers, she scowled, and he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

He sat his empty glass with a thunk. “I’ve been challenged.”

~*~

Look for Year of the Cat sometime this year (2017)

Re/Viewed (Doms of the FBI 6) by Michele Zurlo

I have a new release out this month, the sixth installment of my Doms of the FBI series.

Blurb:

As a writer for The Eclectic Traveler, adventuresome daredevil Tru Martin indulges her penchant for travel and thrills of all sorts. After her discovery of a murder victim brings two sexy FBI agents into her life, Tru suggests combining their efforts instead of letting their interest in her divide them.

With a murderer on the loose and a crime ring known as The Eye to bring down, Jed Kinsley and Liam Adair are game to give it a try. Though Liam is new to the lifestyle, Jed is an experienced Dom, and the trio goes undercover to a private, fetish-friendly inn and there assume the roles of a submissive and her two Doms. As the investigation heats up, so does their chemistry. Jed and Liam soon discover they want more from this uniquely sensual woman, and they’ll do whatever it takes to make her fall in love with them.

Warnings: Menage, D/s, anal sex, double penetration, base jumping, and an unpredictable sixth sense 

PG Excerpt/Tru's POV:

A low chuckle vibrated from his chest, and he resumed his quest for a kiss. His lips had barely grazed hers when they were interrupted.

“Seriously? This is how you keep an eye on her?”

Tru looked over to see Liam standing two feet away, hands on hips, and waves of anger emanating from his tight expression. She hadn’t expected to see him ever again. Her jaw dropped, and she jerked away from Jed’s kiss. “Liam?”

“I see you do remember me.” He came closer and directed the entirety of his ire at Jed. Rage simmered below the surface, giving her a first glimpse at just how powerful he could be. She’d known he was strong, and she’d suspected he was dominant, but she hadn’t realized that he had a dangerous edge. “I asked you to watch her, to be there for her, not to make a move on her.” His fists clenched and flexed, thick tendons clamoring to make contact with Jed’s face.

Though it looked like they were evenly matched, Jed didn’t appear concerned about the physical threat Liam posed. He released one of her hands in order to face Liam, but he kept hold of her other one. “You left. You didn’t bother to tell her you were going, and the two times you’ve called, you haven’t asked about her. We both assumed you’d moved on.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Shocked that Liam thought he had a claim, Tru didn’t know what to make of his jealousy. She’d liked him, but he’d left, exiting her life without saying goodbye. Whatever the issue and her role in it, she didn’t want to see them come to blows. “Liam, it was one kiss, not a promise or commitment. I mean, you said you’d see me for breakfast, and when I stopped by your room, I found out that you’d gone.”

“And that’s when Jed moved in. He sensed a weakness, and he took advantage of it.” His blue eyes flashed like a storm in the night.

“Hold up.” Jed put up a cautioning hand. “That’s not how it happened. I told her that you were gone, and later we went kayaking together. We hit it off, and the rest is history. You know the saying—once you have black, you never go back.”

Liam’s lips became a slash, the lightning of his internal storm. “You’re half Asian, asshole, a quarter white, and only a quarter black. That saying is stupid for a lot of reasons, and not just because it’s on the list of crap you say.”

Tru had wondered about the ingredients of Jed’s multiracial makeup, but she hadn’t asked because she felt it wasn’t her business unless he wanted to tell her. Right now she had other concerns. Jed dropped her hand and took a step toward Liam. Sliding between them, she parked one hand on Liam’s chest and the other on Jed’s. “Gentlemen, let’s not hurl insults. Really, there’s nothing to get upset about.”

“He moved in on my territory.” Liam’s lip curled, a sexy growl that made her want to rub her body against his. Damn, but these were two very attractive men—and dominant to boot. She imagined what it would be like to be sandwiched between their naked bodies, and a tingling began at the apex of her thighs. Alex, her former Master, had often indulged her love for ménage sex.

Shaking the thought away, Tru forced herself to focus on the real problem. She narrowed her eyes in Liam’s direction. “I’m not your territory.”

“Yeah, she’s mine.” Jed’s chest puffed out, pushing against her palm.

Tru hated to burst his bubble, but it had to be done. “I’m not yours either.”

He tore his glare from Liam and turned it on her. “What?”

It took a supreme act of will not to step back or lower her gaze. “Tonight is my last night here, and then I’m moving on to my next job. You’re almost finished here as well, and who knows where your investigation will take you next? It’s a fling, Jed. Neither of you has a claim to me.”

That seemed to take the wind out of both their sails, and though each man relaxed, neither backed off. They studied one another, and Tru had no idea what either of them was thinking.

“You’re friends, right?”

Silence greeted her question. After a time, Liam managed a curt nod, though his steady gaze remained glued to Jed.

“And you work together? You’re a team?”

This time she didn’t have to wait as long for a reply. Without seeming to move, Jed answered. “Yes.”

“Then maybe you should look at this as an opportunity to work together in a different way.” The need to keep them apart had passed. She slid her palms down each man’s chest as she let her hands drop away. “I’m game if you are.”

 

Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2kVZ1QD

       Apple, Nook, KOBO: https://www.books2read.com/u/bOrqwo