Thursday, January 10, 2013

The Lotus Trilogy's Shocking Conclusion!'ll never guess what happens!

Hello, friends and fans! We're glad you've stopped by to get a glimpse into the exciting, surprising, and erotic conclusion to the Lotus Trilogy. We're giving away a free copy of The Lotus Ascension, so comment below and tell us something surprising about your own love story. Don't forget your email address!

How can Sillara marry a far-away king she's never met when she's already in love?

This is the story of Soren and Sillara, twins looking for love in a city where they both enjoy the benefits of their high social station and labor under the weight of their family name and duties.

Konas Seranimesti was present eighteen years ago when the last Lotus in Arinport gave birth to twins, Soren and Sillara. Sillara was betrothed to Konas's brother on the day of her birth, but Konas has fallen in love with his brother's promised wife.

But what can Konas do? Sillara is the daughter of a Lotus, and her life has been planned out in advance. She has never been allowed to choose anything for herself. But when her twin brother, Soren, who is himself feeling the pressures of his station, joins her on a desert hunting trip, everyone's plans for Sillara are ruined.

Lost in the desert and assumed dead, Sillara is given choices for the first time in her life, but how can she choose a love she has never recognized? Will Sillara's choice ruin Soren's chance for love? And can Konas win a heart promised to another man?

Be Warned: public exhibition, anal sex, multiple partners, m/m sex, f/f sex, bondage, spanking, erotic asphyxiation


This excerpt is beyond hot, readers, so make sure you've got a cold drink ready...

Soren had no more time to pursue his dark thoughts, for the shaking of the tambourines summoned everyone to the main tent. A male and female pleasure slave, clad in near-nothingness, stood at the entrance and greeted the revelers. Nathen gave Orien a light kick.

“Get up, sleepyhead. Delight calls.”

Orien groaned, squinted against the light, and rolled over. He rose, shook the sand from his massive, muscular frame, and stretched. His face broke into a wide grin. “Is it time to travel the marshes already?”

Soren nodded.

“Merieke brought plenty of herbs, so no one has to worry about bastards, so I am going to take one of the girls for myself. You all can fight it out over whoever's left.”

Orien, Nathen, and Soren entered the tent and were carried along on waves of music, incense, and herbs. Soren watched as a slave crushed the petals of a purple flower in his hand and threw it into the brazier. Immediately he felt his mind slipping away to that thrilling realm of supreme carnal gratification. The slaves had some touch of their master, and though Konas was not here, his influence remained. Soren knew he was in for another unforgettable orgy.

Merieke came, too, and her natural beauty shamed the crafted appearances of the pleasure slaves. She wore nothing save her jewelry, and even her brothers turned and gasped at her arrival. Gold and malachite earrings dangled from her lovely earlobes, and a wide necklace of gold and silver fashioned in the likeness of two birds' heads looking in opposite directions lay across the upper half of her breasts. Her lips were red as the ripest apples, and black wings of kohl rose from her eyes, giving her a cat-like look. Soren was almost convinced that she was purring. A belt of thin gold coins linked together hung on her hips, drawing his attention to her exposed and beautiful pussy. Clean. No hair. Just the way the Sunjaa liked it. But most magnificent of all was Merieke's headpiece, an ornate black wig decorated with cold-worked glass of varying colors.

“Hello, boys,” she said.

No one responded, so stunned were the men by the sudden revelation of her charms.

Soren noticed that she held something in her hand, but whatever it was, it was small enough to be concealed in her closed fist. The only thing he could see was the long ribbon of silk that hung from her hand. It put him in mind of something fun, and with a grin, he walked over to a nearby casket and rummaged through its contents of toys in search of a blindfold.

Orien took one of the slave-girls and commandeered her. Due to Orien's unpleasantly oversized cock, that was no more than Soren expected. That left two male pleasure slaves, one female, and Merieke.

Merieke walked over to Soren, reached up inside his skirt without breaking eye contact with him, and grabbed his cock. “It's about time, don't you think? We've known each other all our lives, and still we haven't fucked?”

Soren untied his skirt and let it fall. “Well, I've been at sea.” He liked bantering with her.

Merieke's eyes glowed. “From what I hear about what you sailors do to each other at sea, I'd say you're more than ready to take what I'm offering.”

Soren grinned and ran his hands through his long hair, freeing any small tangles from his horns. “I'll make your first time with an Ausir something to remember.”

Merieke went up on her tiptoes and kissed Soren's mouth. “And I'll make your first time with me unforgettable.”

Soren smiled back at Nathen, who nodded his approval. Merieke's brother turned his attention toward a female pleasure slave, invited a male pleasure slave to join them, and moved off. Knowing that he was going to tell Sillara everything about this afterward, Soren resolved to thoroughly thank Merieke for her kindness in giving Sillara her first climax.

The part of Soren that was the attentive lover wished he had asked Nathen what kind of lover Merieke was, what she liked and disliked, and what she liked even if she did not know she liked it or just would not admit it to herself. But the other side of Soren, that adventurous side that liked a bit of a surprise, was glad to be sailing into uncharted waters. The sea had never looked more inviting.

Soren sensed that Merieke, in her excitement, wanted to lead, and he obliged her. He knew that some people dealt with their nervousness by overcompensating in matters of control. Soren could wait to assert himself; besides, he was happy to see what Merieke would do.

Merieke laid Soren down on a pile of soft pillows and leaned over him, arching her fingers in order to press her nails into his chest. Her hands played with Soren's body, traveling over his shoulders, and down his muscular arms. She traced the wide wings of the proud falcon tattooed beautifully across his chest. She leaned in closer to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and as she tousled his locks, she kissed his throat. Soren moaned and relaxed into the pillows. Merieke only used her left hand. Her right hand still held her secret.

The passion of Merieke's kisses increased, and she, too, moaned as she rubbed her tits against Soren's skin. Soren kneaded her breasts, ending each long caress in a pinch of her nipples. He breathed deep of the spices in the fibers of her wig, and his cock surged to life. In moments it was achingly hard. Merieke trailed her kisses across his collarbone and down his chest. She stopped at his nipple for a nibble, and Soren thrust his cock up into her stomach. The hard shaft slapped against her skin, and she looked up into his eyes and smiled.

Her kisses continued down to his navel, and there she paused to lick. With her left hand, she reached down and grasped Soren's cock, working it in preparation for her tongue. She jacked him off against her throat, moving the head of his cock down her jawline and across her chin. Merieke's tongue flicked out, almost touching it but not quite. Soren smiled at her game. Soon it would be his turn.

Without warning, Merieke devoured Soren's cock, the pleasure of which caused him to suck in his breath and hold it. Her lips held his hard shaft against her ever-moving tongue. Her head bobbed up and down, and Soren groaned in pleasure to see his cock disappearing into the mouth he had wanted to fuck for so long. Merieke looked up into his eyes while she sucked. She knew exactly what to do.

But then something happened that surprised and impressed Soren, a man impressed by nothing where sex was concerned. Soren was so far more advanced than any of his lovers that no one had ever been able to catch him unawares in the bedroom.

Merieke did. As she sucked, she dropped both her hands below Soren's legs so that her hands were out of sight. Soren knew she was up to something, but he could not guess what. Then he felt something cool against his asshole, and he looked down in surprise. Merieke managed to smile while still keeping his cock in her mouth.

Soren was open to anything, so he trusted Merieke to please him. So far she was doing an excellent job. He relaxed his asshole and let Merieke slip inside whatever she wanted to put there. Whatever it was, it was not very big. Not as big as a cock. And then a most pleasing vibrating sensation filled his back passage.


A little surprise for Soren right there at the end, eh? There's so much more to what Soren has to offer in The Lotus Ascension! But this is the end of the trilogy--if you want to start at the beginning, dive into the erotic, exciting world of the Lotuses in the first two books.

What happens when love and revenge come head to head?

Two kingdoms. Two broken hearts. One last chance at love.


Where we are:
FB author page

How to purchase:
Evernight Publishing
Burn Like Ice (free)

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Prophecy of Blood

One hundred ninety-eight seasons after the mushroom-shaped clouds first blossom to poison the humans of the Rising Sun, near the beginning of the Season of Inundation, Atlantis will return. 

With those words ringing in their ears, vampires Christine Javert and Jordan MacNaught find themselves in a race against time to stop the return of Atlantis. As they hunt for the deadly Ares, they discover the true depths of his plot to incite a world-wide species war, turning the humans against all the non-humans, not just the vampires as they’d originally thought.

“Dude, next time just tap me on the shoulder.”

She needed to lodge the protest, though her body sang at the familiar touch. She and her body needed to have a good, long talk about this situation. He shouldn’t be able to make her go mushy just by putting an arm around her. Not when they’d sated their lust so recently.

As expected, Jordan wore a suit that evening, and it suited him perfectly. No tie for a change though, and his crisp shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. So for him, he was going for a casual look.

The arm around her back drifted south until his hand rested on her ass and gave it a gentle squeeze. “My way’s more fun. Admit it, wasn’t it fun, seeing him slink off?”

He grinned. How a grown man frozen in his early twenties could continually look like a mischievous little boy when he grinned was beyond her. But it worked for him. Chris shook her head and groaned. Protest. Remember? You’re doing the whole friend thing, and friends don’t grab friends’ asses. Not even friends you bounce at every opportunity. With an effort, she leveled out her breathing. “I didn’t expect to see you here so early. I was heading out soon.”

Even with the attempt to moderate her voice, her words came out breathy. She cringed internally. If Jordan noticed, he didn’t comment. “You need a keeper. I’ve appointed myself to the task.”

Arrogant jackanapes. Rather than draw a scene by having a conversation in the middle of the dance floor without dancing, she sighed and looped his arms around his neck. At least she didn’t have to bother with the intricacies of a waltz. The last time she’d danced with him had been in London, the night before he buried her.

The hand on her butt squeezed again. “What was that thought? You just scowled.”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He frowned, but let the matter drop. “You look smashing, Chrissy. Why were you wasting it on the dog?”

“It was a dance, nothing more. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Dozens of people surrounded them, but she saw only Jordan. Felt him as his other hand trailed lazily down her back. His lips brushed her ear as he leaned close. “After earlier, I might just make it my business.”

Her mouth went dry, and she blinked at him. “Huh, wha’?”

“I make a lousy friend, as you well know.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her. Her knees threatened to buckle. “And since I intend to be inside you again at the earliest possible moment, the ‘friend’ label doesn’t fit.”

Oh. Wowser. She licked her lips, saw an answering flare of arousal flash in the green eyes staring into hers. “You’re not serious. Like, you want to date?” He blew my mind, but it was that good for him, too?

“Such a dull word, but sufficient.” He drew her closer. Fire followed the path of his lips around the bottom of the dark-blue choker she wore to cover up the nasty scar from the attack that left her almost dead. He took a long sniff, no doubt smelling the Princess perfume she daubed on. “You smell good enough to eat, Chrissy. I could spend hours doing just that.”

The already warm nightclub turned scorching. Maybe it was just her temperature.

“In that obnoxious pink bed of yours.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, tried not to picture them in her room. It definitely was her temperature soaring, not the club’s.

Jordan’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Arms and legs restrained, holding you open for me. No escape, no retreat.”

Her non-existent imagination conjured the image up in startling detail, bolstered by the memory of the handcuffs around her wrists earlier. She whimpered, couldn’t help the moisture that trickled from her to soak her panties. Oh damn, no. That should not turn me on. Not him. Not like this, not again.

She moved with the music, turning to press her back into him. His strong, sure hands pulled her hips against his in a dance they’d done so many times together, one that had nothing to do with music.

“And the thought, being with me like that, excites you. Letting control go earlier like you did, gave you a rush you’ve never gotten before in sex.” Jordan pushed the hair at her neck to the side. Sharp fangs sank against her throat, not quite breaking the skin, his other hand drifting up to cup her breast. The fabric of her dress did nothing to shield her against the heat of his palm. “Did you sneak out afterward because of how it made you feel?”

Teasing touches trades down her sides until he reached the hem of her skirt. His hand slid beneath to caress the skin of her thigh just above her garter.

Take back control, Chris. You steam-roller. Men don’t do this shit to you. Nor did she want them to. Right? Except him, damn it all to hell. And he was talking about feelings? What the fuck? Struggling to keep her head against the sensuality he dragged out of her, she clamped her hands over his wrists to still his movements. With only a hint of her normal forcefulness, she said, “Knock it off, MacNaught.”

“Or what, hmm? Let go, Chrissy. You’d enjoy yourself more if you relaxed. Remember?”

He twisted his wrist, broke her admittedly weak grip on him, and the exploration of her leg continued. She colored, prayed no one was staring at them. The display, while making her hornier than a bitch in heat, was mild for the ‘Cor. It didn’t matter, because she flat out didn’t do public affection. None of her boyfriends crossed the line with her, knowing she’d flatten them if they pushed too far.

She couldn’t flatten Jordan though. To make it worse, she didn’t want to.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of his caresses over her thighs. His fingers inched upward, just brushing her mound, only blocked by the flimsy barrier of her soaked panties.

He laughed softly in her ear. “You say no, but your body, your oh-so-pretty pussy says yes, doesn’t it?”

Chris twitched. If she didn’t move away, didn’t break this off, the bastard would think he could maul her whenever he wanted. And what’s wrong with that? So what if he does the caveman thing? You read the trashy romance novels, and are surprised when someone acting like those alpha assholes turns you on?

A harsh blast of noise from behind her head where it plastered against Jordan’s suit coat worked as effectively as a bucket of water.


Originally from the Sacramento Valley, Tory packed up and moved all the way to Southwest Florida in 2004 with her husband (a Florida native) under the premise that ‘hurricanes almost never hit that part of the state.’ That year, 4 blasted the area. 4 more came the following year, and her husband blames her for bringing the hurricanes. She now resides in Jacksonville and is relieved that, thus far, no more hurricanes have followed her around.

She began writing in kindergarten when a turnip wished to be human and, other than a hiatus shortly after getting married, has never stopped. Her love of vampires began somewhere in junior high, and combining the two loves didn’t take long. She loves music, considers herself a ‘book slut’ whose reading habits would break her family financially if given free reign, and is (usually) delighted to be a mommy of twin Shrimpettes and a Shrimp.

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