Monday, May 20, 2019

Vyolet's Stryfe @ceereefields


She's a thief bent on vengeance. He's a fighter determined to steal his thief's heart.

Vyolet is a thief and mistress of many disguises. Every city knows her by a different name. It comes in handy when she's running from her psychotic cousin. A cousin she has always stayed one step ahead until her boss forces Vyolet to turn the tables and hunt her archnemesis. Captured and left to die in a Scavenger Installation, she's hellbent on escaping before her cousin returns to kill her.

Stryfe is a fighter born and raised in the deepest pits the Scavenger Installations had to offer until he escaped. Years later, he now helps rescue others from his fate within the Installations. However, this last mission goes horribly wrong when the installation he infiltrates explodes.

Crammed into a box with a thief as they both await death, Stryfe is intrigued by her fearlessness. Hearing that the thief expects to die on her own mission, he refuses to let that happen. However, in helping her, he didn't expect his heart to be stolen during the mission.

Joining forces, Vyolet and Stryfe bring both beauty and brawn to bear on the most dangerous enemy either has faced. Will the
y be enough to take her nemesis down? Or will she be forced to sacrifice the man she loves to save the cities of the MFZ?


Vyolet turned toward him. Her hand absently stroked one of his braids and then her eyes met his. Fire sparked in the rich chocolate orbs turning them molten.

"You need to be sure, Vy." Stryfe's gaze delved into hers.

"I am," she whispered as she stood on her toes to reach his mouth.

"I won't let you go after this." He gave her one more chance. He knew living with him wouldn't be easy, there were too many demons knocking around inside of him to ever be a comfortable companion. She was the first person who had been able to quiet the demons and let more of his personality show. With her he was happy for the first time... and he'd kill anyone who threatened to take her from him.

"You will not be with anyone else ever."

Startled eyes swung up and clung with his. "What?"

"You will not be with anyone else. If we continue you need to understand from this moment on you will be mine." He punctuated that statement by pressing his lips against her opened mouth. Darting his tongue in for a brief taste her gaze held doubt as she followed her meandering hand that trailed down his neck.

"I don't care what markings you have, because I have them too and you find me attractive." He knew he was smirking when she didn't contradict him, she did find him attractive he scented it on her even now.

"You're crazy, wild man to think anyone else will do."

He melded her body to his lifting her into him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she met his tongue with hers. Fire licked across his skin making his clothes uncomfortable. He separated them briefly to get his shirt and pants off.
Leaving his underwear on, he watched as she disrobed, in the little light that shone through the windows he saw where her creamy flesh ended and the black and white bandings from the regenned hand and foot that stood stark now that he could see them up close. The contrast was beautiful to him.

When their clothes were dealt with, he pulled her back to him. She let out a startled gasp.

He stopped. "Did I hurt you?"

"You just forget your own strength I think." She patted his chest. “Not that it's a bad thing.”

He immediately released her and stepped back. "I've never done this before and I want you too much."

She froze. "Never done what?"

"This." He gestured between them. Heat flood into his face, embarrassed that he even had to explain. "Sex."

Her eyes widened and then her lips pulled into a slow smile. "Really?"

He took a hesitant step back when she began to saunter toward him.

"Oh no, wild man. Come here." She crooked a finger at him.

His head told him he couldn't handle her, but his heart wanted to claim her.
Instead of remaining froze, his feet shuffled toward Vyolet of their own accord. She couldn't hurt him physically but emotionally... she could devastate him.

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Author Bio ~

CeeRee Fields currently lives in Groningen, the Netherlands with her husband and cat. Since she was born in Alabama and moved to the Netherlands, Dutch is not her first language which gets her into mischief in various stores around town when she tries to speak it.

She loves writing, building worlds that her characters can explore and break if they feel the need. Action, adventure and love are her favorite things. And when stuff gets blown up who says the guy is the only one who gets to do it?

She can be found at:

Monday, May 13, 2019

Branwyn's Love by Daryl Devore

D Devore – Branwyn’s Love
Genre – medieval erotic romance

A Brief Interview with Prince Malacke

     What impression do you make when a person first meets you?

The impression I always make – a proud, strong prince. Although, Branwyn did tell me, she thought I was rude and arrogant when she first met me.

     What is your greatest fear?

To be killed in battle and not spend the rest of my life with Branwyn.

     What is your profession?

I am the Gon-dra. The prince of the realm. Heir to the throne. I fight battles and am learning how to benevolently rule the kingdom.

     What skill do you have that you’re proud of?

I have been informed that stating my greatest skill might not be appropriate, so I will simply say – I am a great swordsman.


Is it not obvious? As a great swordsman, I can defeat an enemy, protect my land and my woman.

     Describe your ideal woman.
A strong-willed woman. One who will not cower before me, but will stand up to me. Although, I fear I am going to spend a lot of time regretting that characteristic in Branwyn.

     What trait do you like most about the person you fell in love with?

Her strength. Not physical strength, after all, she is a woman. But her personal strength. She was forced into a situation that she had no control over because of the greed of her family. But she did not wither like a flower. She accepted her fate and challenged it.

Daryl Devoré pens another hot read – the medieval romance -Branwyn’s Love.

The tale of a young woman sold as a courtesan in training. Branwyn arrives in a new land to begin daily lessons in the bewildering art of bedding a man.
The noblewoman chosen to be Prince Malacke’s bride rejects him by bedding his hated rival. Malacke turns his anger towards increasing the power and wealth of Black Dorn castle. And he succeeds until his attention is captured by the face of the woman who will be his queen.

Note: This book contains elements of domination, submission, and fetishes. If these concepts disturb you, please do not purchase or read this book. Branwyn’s Love was formerly known as Black Dorn and published by New Dawning.


“Stop that crying or by all that is powerful, I will beat you.”
“Do not yell so. You will frighten the poor child.”
Through tears, Branwyn stared at her uncle and aunt. “I… I do not understand. Why must I go?”
Her aunt sat next to her. “It is your time, child. A husband has been chosen. You must leave us to join with him.”
“About time it is!” Her uncle’s face grew redder with each word. “One year shy of a score she is, and still unwed. She must fall to her knees to thank God someone wishes to marry such an old spinster.”
Branwyn slapped the arm of her chair. “I decline. It is my right. I shall not marry this man!”
“How many men do you think you can refuse?” Her uncle paced about the small room. “This is the fourth suitor to ask for your hand. You cannot. It is done. Your things are being loaded as we speak.” He jerked back a curtain in the window and pointed.
The door opened and in stepped a tall broad-shouldered soldier. “The carriage awaits.”
“Branwyn.” Aunt Selda patted her hand. “You have no dowry. This is a good match. He is a rich man. He will give you babies.”
Suspicion gnawed at Branwyn’s stomach. “And what did he give you?”
“Gold.” Uncle Egbert picked up his purse and dropped it, with a rattle, back onto the table.
Branwyn dried her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, stood, kissed her aunt on the cheek and strode out the door to face her destiny.
A carriage with two strong, brown horses stood at the entrance. Two guardsmen on horseback waited. The driver offered his hand to help her mount.
Branwyn paused and turned. No one waited to say goodbye. The door of her uncle’s manor closed with a determined firmness. Warm tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She blinked them back, then settled herself, pulled a blanket over her legs and snapped the curtains closed. If the family she’d grown up with refused to cry and wish her well, she would not shed a tear or turn for a final glance at her adopted home. With a shout and a shudder, the carriage pulled away.

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Bio and Social Media Links
Two writers in one. Daryl Devoré writes hot romances with sexy heroes and strong heroines. Victoria Adams is Daryl's alter ego when she's inspired to write sweet romances with little to no heat.

Daryl (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two black cats - Licorice and Ginny-Furr Purrkins - and some house ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks on her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth, and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter, and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.

Sentry: Requires Rescue @Liza0Connor

Saving Sentry

Liza O’Connor

Requires Rescue Series
Contemporary Suspense
Sometimes even the strong
requires a helping hand.
The largest, strongest dog in the pack was miserable. He was born to be a leader, yet he wasn’t. He was born to be special, yet he wasn’t. He was called “Grumpy” by the humans. And while he was grumpy and sad, he had every right to be. This was not the life he was meant to have!
When Sean, Molly, and Eliza returned to their home, the mass of twenty-five giant Shiloh Shepherds frightened Eliza. She wanted her puppies!  Still, she could see the great sadness in the massive dog’s eyes as he crawled submissively into her room. Her father explained that Grumpy expected to be pack leader, but none of the dogs will accept him.
She objected to his name at once, and once Sean discovered how smart and gentle the dog was with Molly, he suggested they rename him Sentry. When Eliza learned a sentry watches and protects, she agreed with the name change. Sean explained to Sentry that he was to protect Eliza at all times. The change in Sentry was remarkable. He now had the most important job in the world: protecting Eliza.


Don’t think about growling

Molly hurried to the garage, eventually making her way through the kennel, into the fenced in lawn. The pack of dogs turned and stared at her.

She sensed their tension. They didn’t recognize her.

“Bandy, Coco, Panda, here!” she called, hoping the three they had cared for as pups would remember her despite the time she’d been away.

Three dogs broke from the pack and ran to her with wagging tails. The rest moved closer with tails down, but slowly wagging.

She focused on her three, kneeling down, greeting them with hugs and pets. “It’s so good to be back.”

The three shepherds whined with happiness and washed her face and hands with excessive enthusiasm. The other dogs now moved closer, wanting to be petted too, which she did. When she reached to pet one dog, it snarled and within seconds Panda and Coco had the dog on the ground, with their teeth on its neck.

Molly froze, having no idea what she was supposed to do. From her reading she knew what Panda and Coco were both saying was, ‘I am dominant. You will do as I say.’ She wanted to gently call Panda and Coco off, but given those dogs remembered and loved her, she decided not to interfere with them being dominant.

Choose your favorite book dealer
Using this universal link.

You may read in any order.

Liza O’Connor lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels.

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Monday, April 29, 2019

Calla's Summer Fantasy - by Amber Daulton

Calla’s Summer Fantasy

Publisher: Daulton Publishing
Release Date: March 18, 2019
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance 
Word Count: 13k
Heat Level: 5 Flames


Calla Lansky needed help at playing the field.
She scheduled two dates for the same night at her favorite seafood restaurant, and she owed her shocked boyfriends an explanation. To her surprise, Nathan Risley and Sam Tomlin handled the awkward situation like pros and happily agreed to her ultimate fantasy: a ménage à trois.
After the hottest night of her life, Calla faced the ultimate decision.
Should she commit to the one man who secretly loved her all along, or keep her options open and indulge in her summer fantasy again and again?


Calla laughed, almost strangling on a bite of grilled salmon as a dirty thought crossed her mind. She forced the food down her throat and chased it with her drink.

“You okay? What’s so funny?” Nathan forked a popcorn shrimp into his mouth. “You only giggle like that when your mind is in the gutter.”

“She crinkles her nose too.” Sam chuckled as Calla covered her twitching nose with her palm. “C’mon, babe. There’s no need to act shy after everything that already happened.” He tugged on her forearm until she dropped her hand.

“Okay, just hear me out.” Calla tapped her feet, drumming her hands on her knees to gather her courage. Then she leaned forward and braced her elbows on the tabletop. The neckline of her dress dipped, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. “I have a silly little fantasy. I’ve always wanted to have a threesome with two hot men who would tease and play with me for hours. Are you interested?” Hope filled her chest, but then Nathan’s mouth dropped open and Sam’s eyes bugged out as though she stood up and stripped naked in the restaurant. She swished her hand in the air. “It’s crazy, I know, and you aren’t into it. I understand. Never mind.”

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About the Author

Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
Amber lives in North Carolina with her husband and four demanding cats. Feel free to visit her at

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Sunday, April 21, 2019

Amulet of Darkness by Marianne Petit


  Excerpt  Amulet of Darkness
By Marianne Petit

     Every aroused muscle screamed in protest as Gareth recalled the way Cyrenne had stood watching him, her eyes filled with curiosity. Despite the brisk chill of the water, a lustful heat stirred his blood, continued to course, despite his best efforts.
     She’d demanded he stop; but he’d sensed her desire to see more. He’d heard the anticipation in her slumberous voice. 
     Gareth strapped the leather sandal around his ankle and shoved to his feet.
     He knew women, knew them well, thanks to Anacone. He’d become a man in her arms that winter when he was thirteen. She had taught him the fine art of pleasuring a woman, how to caress the right spots with more than his hands, how to tease and take his time till a woman was right for the taking.  Cyrenne had that look, sober or drunk. But, he’d kept his promise to her. After very little sleep, he had jumped into the river.
     Gareth slipped his leather jerkin over his wet shoulders and glanced into the thicket where she had disappeared.
     He did not intend to humiliate her. His jest was meant to quell her uneasiness.  That she’d drawn a bow on him was charming. That she’d bolted away and misunderstood him was unsettling.
    Hearing a commotion, he strapped his scabbard around his waist.
    Entering the campsite Boreas, his trusted comrade, lumbered toward him. Wrapped in his big beefy arms Cyrenne struggled against him.
    So she hadn’t gone far, hadn’t left for good like he’d thought. The idea pleased him.
    "Lukie here, Lad, I’ve pooked a bonnie lass from the woods.” Boreas smiled a wide toothless smile.
    Gareth stepped toward them then halted. If he remembered correctly, she insisted she could defend herself. “You’d best--“
    “Ow!” Boreas received a swift kick to his shin, gave up his captive and rubbed his leg.
    Gareth winced.
    Cyrenne swirled around and landed a solid punch to Boreas’ chest. His body stiffened with shock. His ruddy face a shade redder than his hair, he pulled out a sharp edged blade.
    “Boreas retreat,” Gareth ordered above the raucous laughter of his fellow companions. “She is with me.”
     Boreas grunted, knew better than to challenge his authority in front of the men, and lumbered toward the campfire.
    “Every time we meet you are in the arms of another man. I ask you, why?” Gareth grinned. The woman had spunk. He admired that.
     She swept hair from her cheek and stomped toward him.
     “That you jest on my account, knowing full well I am not myself, confirms my initial assessment of your character.”
     “Ah yes, that of a dragonwort. I do recall. And I recall being told you did not summon my help. Forgive me for not coming to your rescue - again.”
     Flushed, her braided hair coming undone, he held back the urge to brush a few loose tendrils away from her luscious mouth.
     She stopped within a hand’s pace between them.
     The passionate blaze in her dark, insolent, eyes…
      Deities be damned, he cursed silently, sunlight paled against their brilliance.
     “If your men weren’t such boors preying on innocent women—“
     “Innocent? You, Sunshine, can handle yourself quite well. No, I fear my poor friend, Boreas, faced greater danger.”
    “Do not call me by that ridiculous name.”
    “Ah, but it suits you so well, does it not?”
    She inhaled deep, tightened her stance, readying herself for battle.
    He would enjoy wrapping his arms around that luscious body; enjoy grappling strength against strength, lusty heat against heat. Gareth backed up. “I thought you’d left.”
    “If not for that disgusting attempt on my person I would be long gone. What kind of filthy animals do you call comrades?”
    Though he understood her need to lash out at him, her words punched his gut.
    “Those filthy animals are my friends,” he snapped. “I owe them my life, my respect and undying gratitude.”   
    “You should have better control over your friends.” Her lips thinned.
     For a second, the desire to ravish her cruel mouth, with a punishing kiss flit, across his mind. “They are of their own free will.”
    “Well, restrain them, or my blade shall leave them with no other employ apart from that of a eunuch.”
    Gareth grinned despite himself.
    “I am glad I amuse you. Do you fancy being mauled?  She grabbed his loins.
     He stiffened. This woman never ceased to amaze him. “Ah, Sunshine, I thought you an innocent, but if you could just squeeze a little hard—-“
     She gasped. Her hand dropped as though burnt. “You are...” she stepped back, stumbling over her own feet, “the most intolerable oaf I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”
      She was rather stunning flushed with anger and would be quite a feisty tumble in bed.
His gaze traveled over the leather ringed maille, under which her full molded breasts rose and fell with angered breath, traveled over her hips and powerful, bare, thighs colored golden by the sun. Ah, that he could slip his hands up beneath her short armor and feel the silken folds of her womanhood... Painfully erect beneath his own armor his gaze snapped around the clearing.   How many of his men felt the same lusty heat? He noticed two men observing them. His scowl spurt their quick departure.
     “You had best stay away from my men,” Gareth ordered forbidding further argument. “They have been without a woman for a long time.” A trip into town to be serviced by a few hetairais would do them all a bit of good.
    “Then shackle them and let me leave in peace.”
    “You wish to leave? Done!” Frustration coiled within him. “Go home. This is no place for a woman.” She’d be safer away from his men, away from him.
    “And find a rope for yourself as well.” She spun on her heel.

    Watching her walk away, Gareth realized no woman would grace his bed this night. Aggravating wench! He’d spend another restless night unable to get the thought of her, of her fingers curling around his shaft, out of his dreams.



Marianne Petit is a past President of the Long Island Chapter of the Romance Writers of America. Her love of writing stems back to high school. She spent hours reading Nancy Drew, Alfred Hitchcock and historical romances. At the age of fifteen, she wrote a short story for children, as well as numerous works of poetry. Her love of history stems from her father, Roger, a Frenchman, whose love of American history greatly influenced her writing interests.

Newsday and several local newspapers have written articles on Ms. Petit and she was interviewed on TV for her first book, a time travel entitled: A Find Through Time.
She is a past President of the Melville Lions club, and currently 1st Vice District Governor for the Lions of Suffolk County, Long Island NY, a service organization that raises money for the less fortunate - especially the sight impaired.

She loves to ski, raft, horseback ride, and enjoys the theater.

Marianne lives on Long Island and is happily married for 40years. She has two sons, two wonderful daughters-in-laws and four adorable grandchildren.

You can visit her website at for extensive research links and excerpts of Ms. Petit’s books.