Twirl me around and watch me spin, a modern day princess lives
Charisa has a perfect life. Just like her favored Princesses, she is
living the life every girl dreams of: her very own fairytale, but even the
sweetest fairytales must come to an end. When happiness is at its peak,
fate steps in and one by one she loses everything.
Picking up the pieces to a broken life can be long and bumpy. Most
often than not things get worse before they get better.
Despite her despair and the hell she's been drug through time and
time again, she finds love and begins to plan a future as none other than
Mrs. Prince Charming. Convinced she's going to finally get her happily ever
after fate steps in once again and she suffers betrayal and shame at the
Will she give the idea of love a second chance and find her one and
only or will her dark secrets prevent her from truly finding
Behind every prince is a story left untold.
Look behind the mask and you'll see it unfold...
Sawyer has lived a charmed life. He's the catch every girl is after
when dreaming of her very own storybook ending. In real life, though,
nothing is like it is in a fairytale. One childhood event can forever
affect how a man looks at love and relationships, even a golden guy like
Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. Isn't that what
everyone has always taught in history class? He doesn't have time for love
Even the most skeptical with love can sometimes find it in the
strangest of places, when that one special someone catches his eye,
suddenly leaving him dazed and confused.
The only way to reap the benefits of true love is to put your own
demons behind and give love a shot...
When secrets start to arise will the two beat the odds or part ways
and let it destroy them both?
Tonight is a big
I've taken my time to ensure that I look good.I stare in the mirror as I admire the new lingerie I
have to wear
tonight.I used my uniform
get this sexy getup.Roger expects us to
always be fresh, never wearing the same outfit within a month rotation
of the regulars. There are no lower class sleezeballs here.This is where the big dogs come out
play.This is the most private club
town.If you knew who some of our
highest paying customers were you would know why.
I have a birthday party
that's reserved the front table of the stage tonight, a group of ten men,
drunk off their asses already I'm sure.
I could tell when I peeked out the door as they arrived that a few of
them are newbies by their drooling, excited demeanor. This is what
makes my job interesting and
fun: breaking them in. A man gets a good first time and they'll
coming back for more, meaning more cash for me.
I place my tall heel into the seat of my chair and rub baby oil down my
leg, giving me a sexy edge. Plus, it
keeps the hands from going past the point of restriction.
finish the other leg and take one final look in the mirror. It's a
sexy version of a clown; a white baby
doll trimmed in all of the bright colors. The birthday hat and the sexy
top it off. My ruffle front thong is
orange and it is the final dessert of the hour.
I paint my lips with a matching cherry-red lipstick like my name and
smack them in the mirror.
you're up in ten. Don't keep them
waiting. This is my biggest payout of
roll my eyes in the mirror at the sound of Roger's voice as he pokes his
inside the door. Show the man green and
he'd lease us out in private hotels I'm sure.
He would never admit that though.
be right out, Roger."
likes me though, because something about my pretty face keeps his pockets
full. I've already been up on stage a
few times tonight, so for now I'll be circulating the room.
"Showtime," I mumble, and strut out into the
club, ready for action.
club is packed with businessmen lingering in various sections of the club. I
love weekends. It's when all of the high rollers come out to play. They each
have a different story: some leaving their wives at home for a fresh piece,
some making this their last stop before walking the aisle, and the rest
kids looking for a little fun. I don't care what they're here for as long as
their pockets are empty when they leave and they leave everything in the
after all, I didn't make them come here.
I look around the room,
spotting my party sitting in front of the stage. There are a few cute ones
this batch. This is going to be fun. My eyes lock on one. He takes me
in and gives me a smirk before he
starts to approach me. "Hey there, sexy. What can I do for
He broadens his smile
and gives me a wad of cash. "I need a favor."
"Oh yeah. What'll it be,
He leans in to whisper
in my ear, refraining from touching me because he knows it's against the
unless he's buying a dance. "It's my boy's birthday. There is enough there
a hefty tip if you'll take him to the VIP room for more privacy. I've
booked the dance."
I look around for Roger
to confirm. I find him standing across the room and he nods at me, giving
go ahead. This guy has some nice friends.
A private lap dance is easily a grand and paid up front to Roger. It
is explained that's before the tip, so
this guy knows the rules, meaning he's been here before. "Okay, sexy, but
that's an awfully generous gift to give someone else. Are you sure you don't
want it for yourself?" He's cute. I wouldn't mind giving him the
He leans back to look at
me. "As much as I would love to watch you grinding on top of me, my boy
first, sexy. Maybe another time; I'll be back." He winks and backs away
large grin on his face. I shrug seductively as I watch him leave. His loss.
head to the VIP room to get ready for my dance, greeting Gerry at the
door. All private rooms have a bouncer
keeping guard to ensure that the women are safe at all times. As I'm
getting my music queued up, I hum
softly under my breath and wait for my client to arrive. A few moments in
there is a knock at the door. I walk
over and open it. Greeting me on the other side of the door is an incredibly
sexy man. Hell yes, this is going to be
Something about his face
looks familiar, but I can't place it. He
has dark hair, intense green eyes, and is physically fit by the defined
protruding from his fitted shirt. He must
have come here right after work, because he is wearing a suit, but he's
the jacket and he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing
running up his arms. I don't know what
it is about a man with rolled up sleeves and tattoos, but it turns me on in
way I don't understand. Maybe it's the
business meets bad boy persona. Whatever
it is has me motivated to get closer to him, making my job easier.
I step aside to let him enter. "Hi, I'm
He studies me for a
moment with heated eyes. The way he
looks at me is as if he's seen me before, like he knows me.
"Hi, Cherry." My name rolls off his tongue in the most
sexual manner, causing a rush of excitement between my legs. This is
going to be one hell of a night: sexy
The music starts to play
and I place one hand in the center of my sexy stranger's chest, grabbing a
handful of black material. I walk
backward and drag him over to the seating area before turning, pushing him
backwards until he falls onto the couch behind him, giving me a deep, sexy
laugh along the way.
"Damn," he says, egging
me on. Not wasting any time, I place
each hand on the back of the couch to each side of his shoulders and flip my
hair from side to side. It starts the full
body roll that follows, pressing each segment of skin to his clothing,
with my pelvis. I stand and turn,
closing in on him, resting against him in a sitting position. I shake
my ass against his crotch, enjoying
the feel of it hardening beneath me.
While cupping my breasts I roll my head back, grinding to the beat of
the music. Turning my head to the side,
I watch his eyes glaze over as I touch my body, skimming my hands down in a
slow motion. I continue gyrating on his
lap, listening to his breathing pick up, confirming the arousal that is
pressing into the crack of my ass.
I breathe in deeply.... smelling his citrusy
aftershave; something I would say is unique to him. My hormones are
quickly running wild,
something different than normal. It doesn't take me long to get lost in the
music and this sexy man pressed against my backside as I allow him to become
familiar with my body. Time stands
still...for a while. I hear him grunt, praising
me for the havoc I'm causing on his cock and he isn't even naked.
I finish out the dance
as the song comes to an end, standing and adjusting my outfit. He
stands as I run my fingers through my hair
and I watch as he fishes in his pockets.
He pulls out a wad of cash, handing it all to me. I briefly stare at
him in shock, but brush it
off and reach for it. He doesn't immediately turn it loose.
"How much for house
I'm about to say
something, anything to deny his question, but he beats me to the
"Listen, I don't usually
come to places like this, but I'm here, and now that I am, I kind of like
it. You have a beautiful body. Let me show you what I can do
with mine," he
What a generous man, but
I can tell he enjoyed the dance from the large bulge at the front of his
so I know what he's referring to.
"I don't think so,
I'm ready to thank him
and leave when he grabs my hand, pulling me to him. He presses his
lips to mine before I even
know what's happening. I can taste the
whiskey on his breath. Poor guy is so
drunk I don't think he knows what he's asking me, but the way his hands
introduce themselves to my backside I can't be sure. He pulls away
and touches his index finger to
my lips, silencing me.
"Think about it. The club closes at two. I'll be
outside waiting if you decide to take
me up on my offer. Sometimes outside of
the norm can be freeing..."
He turns and walks away, leaving me standing
here alone. I'm not sure what the hell
just happened, but I find myself considering it. I never do
this. There's one reason why...."
Chrissy Snyder writes New Adult erotic
romance. She loves tattooed bad boys and
misunderstood women with happy ever afters.
She divides her time between writing and reading when not loving on her
very jealous fur baby, Mylo.
If she isn’t writing about heartache or second
chances, then she is managing her busy household with her very supportive hubby
and two teens.
She dreams of travelling to Europe, Costa Rica, and Hawaii.
What if nightmares, best kept in the dark, refuse to stay hidden?
Dr. Maya Kelbeck believes no matter how unusual her patients’ delusions, she can help. When billionaire Alden Caldwell seeks her counsel to escape a controlling relationship, she’s intrigued by his unusual diagnosis, lycanthropy—her patient actually believes he is over 400 years old and a werewolf.
Alden Caldwell’s life is not his own and hasn’t been since the middle ages, not since he was transformed into a werewolf. The once noble knight now finds himself no more than a slave to a female vampire who is without morals, without conscious, without a soul.
Maya promises Alden she can help him, and at first it looks like she can, until the supernatural world in which he lives wants him back. Can Alden convince Maya his delusions are real in time to save her, or has he just sentenced a woman who cares for him despite his past transgressions to a fate worse than death?
Shea Berkley started out writing nonfiction (not so fun) and quickly moved into fiction (totally fun), and knew she'd found her calling. (Her family was thrilled she'd found friends to play with even if they weren't technically real.) She's still pleasantly surprised people are willing to pay to read her stories. Besides writing, her many diversions include kickboxing, reading awesome books and hanging out with her loud and rambunctious family. With five kids (all girls), her biggest job is to make sure the little darlings don't harass the neighbors and then play dumb when the cops come knocking on her door.
Amazon US http://amzn.to/1vzUdEc
Amazon UK http://amzn.to/1EsUSJE
The lift doors behind them slid open and he half dragged her inside the glittering, mirrored and thankfully empty chamber. As the doors closed, he pushed her against the back wall and lifted her clean off her feet, cradling her face in his hands as his crotch burned into her, hot and hard. His eyes told her that he was as far down the line as he was.
‘I can’t take my fucking eyes off you,’ he breathed. ‘Or my hands.’
Genie didn’t want him to take his hands off her. She wanted him to use them to rip her dress from her body and screw her right there against the wall of the lift.
This wasn’t about his business with her uncle any more. It was about the fact that no man had ever touched her like this, made her feel like this, in her entire life. It was about the fact that this was so far beyond turned on. He made her burn for him, as if she were stifling and the only thing that would give her air was the orgasm he was about to give her.
‘Then don’t,’ she said, her fingers on the buttons of his shirt. She wanted him out of it. ‘Don’t take your hands off me. Put them on me.’
His dark eyes glittered, and the lift juddered to a halt as his palm slammed over the emergency stop button. ‘We’ve got three minutes before the override kicks back in,’ he told her, and Genie gasped as he rucked her skirt up and slid his hand up her thigh. She had his shirt open and dragged it free of his trousers. Rock star beautiful, his hand skimmed her panties.
She was lost in how good he was. Three minutes would have to be enough. ‘Put your hands all over me, Abel.’
His tongue slid between her lips as he kissed her, his fingers stroking over the silk between her legs.
‘Is this where you want me to touch you, Beauty?’ He whispered. Beauty. The endearment on his lips flipped her stomach almost as much as his touch between her legs did. ‘Here?’ He pushed the satin aside and ran the back of his fingers over her. His tongue traced her mouth, mirroring the sensation. So much, and still nowhere near enough.
Yes, there. Yes, more. She rocked into his fingers, moaning as they moved into her folds. Abel held her steady between his body and the wall as he opened her, explored her. ‘You feel fucking amazing,’ he muttered, his voice barely there, raw.
Genie clung to him, her mouth on the bunched muscles of his tanned shoulder where she’d pushed his shirt back. He was beautiful in the most masculine sense of the word. Hard. Sexy. Lava hot. And very, very turned on, if his shallow breathing pattern was anything to go on. She knew now just how much he’d been holding back downstairs. He was like a sexual force of nature. Unstoppable.
She bit down and gasped as he drew patterns on her clitoris, his mouth hot on her ear.
‘I’m gonna slide my cock inside you,’ he whispered, switching to a steady rhythm.
‘Right here,’ he pushed two fingers inside her, his thumb still working her clit. Genie cried out, opening wider, clamping her leg around his thigh. ‘Beauty...’ he breathed as he ran his tongue over her ear. ‘Sweet Jesus...’ he groaned as she rode herself against his hand.
She was going to come. He had her rapt, spiralling, grinding down on his pumping fingers. She wanted everything he had. His hands, his mouth, his cock. All of it, right here in this lift. She couldn’t breathe, she was so close, so ready.
‘Oh my fucking God,’ she gasped, biting her lip as he slammed her harder against the wall, his mouth all over hers, his fingers knuckle deep inside her. She opened her eyes almost in shock as her orgasm started, and found his eyes open too, watching her. Dark. Lost. Possessive. Filthy. His lips parted slightly as his breath dragged out of his chest and his hips rocked against his hand between her legs. It was as close to fucking as it got. Every inch of Genie’s body tensed as he crooked his fingers inside her, massaging her g-spot.
He held her steady and kissed her through it. Through every dazzling, bone-melting second of her orgasm, every breathless gasp, every tremor. His lips roved over her mouth, drinking from her, connecting her to him in every way possible as her body broke hard for him.
‘That was pretty fucking sexy,’ he whispered a few seconds later, slowly straightening her panties and smoothing her dress over her hips before buttoning his shirt as the lift started to move again. She swallowed with difficulty as the doors slid open, unable to speak yet.
Hell, she could barely stand up.
‘Not our floor,’ Abel mouthed against her ear, moving to stand close behind her against the wall as several people stepped into the car. A couple. A businessman. Was it obvious to them what they’d just been doing? Surely it had to be written all over her face
that she’d just had the best orgasm of her life?
Abel’s hand rested on her hip, and as the car began to move he drew her back and settled his still hard cock against her ass. ‘How do you want it?’ he spoke quietly, but Genie was pretty certain the other woman heard him. He kissed her neck slowly,sending a shudder of pleasure from her scalp to her toes. ‘Like this, from behind?’ he murmured as his fingers spanned her stomach, holding her against his erection as more people stepped in at the next floor. Clearly their three-minute lift stop had caused something of a backlog. It was getting a little crowded.
She all but yelped as his hand moved over her ass. ‘want you on your knees...’ he whispered, and she closed her eyes. The man melted her. ‘I want you on your back...’ his voice was lethal in her ear. ‘I want you on my cock, Beauty.’
The lift stopped again at the last but one floor and everyone except Genie and Abel stepped out of the car. As the doors slid closed, the woman turned back and flicked an appreciative glance towards Abel, and an envious one at Genie. She couldn’t blame her. The man radiated sex, and right now, late night and turned on, he was the dictionary definition of hot as hell.
USA Today Bestselling author Kitty French is a total romance junkie; she loves to read it, watch it, and most of all to write it. Her sizzling Lucien Knight trilogy topped the amazon erotic charts on both sides of the Atlantic ~ everyone went crazy for Lucien
Knight, the wise cracking Viking sex god who can melt underwear from ten paces away.
Kitty lives in England with her husband and two young sons, and she is mildly addicted to fairy lights, wine and stationery.
She also writes romantic comedy for HarperCollins under thepseudonym Kat French.
strongest man there. Give yourself to him in return for protection. It’s the
only way you’ll ever survive.
of a minor crime, Riana is sentenced to a prison planet—a dark primitive hold
filled with convicts vying for power. Her only chance of survival is with Cain,
a mysterious loner who has won his territory in the prison through intelligence
and brute strength. Sex is all she has to offer, so she uses it. She’s under no
delusions here. No one is ever released, and no one ever escapes. Survival is
all she can hope for—until Cain.
earlier version of this book was published under the same title and a different
penname by Ellora’s Cave. It has since been substantially revised and expanded.
“Is your face
okay?” she asked weakly, as she noticed him wiping away the blood.
He sure wasn’t
much of a conversationalist.
“I’m Riana.” She
had no idea what she was supposed to do. Her knees were shaky, so she sank down
to perch on the edge of the bed.
She blinked. He
wasn’t even going to tell her his name?
began, trying to speak clearly despite her nerves, “For your help. I mean,
He turned around
and stared down at her.
The man was pure
physicality. His closely shaved dark hair emphasized the sculpted curve of his
skull. His olive skin—it must be natural since there was no sun to tan his skin
here—was covered with a sheen of perspiration. He was wearing the kind of
sleeveless t-shirt her grandmother had called a “wife-beater,” and it showed
off his impressive shoulders and the rippling muscles of his arms. His
well-worn trousers were slung low on lean hips. His large build was natural too
and—although he was obviously in excellent shape—he didn’t look fake or
overblown like Asp.
were too starkly chiseled, and his expression too impassive to be labeled
traditionally handsome. But power and masculinity radiated off him in waves.
“Do you think I
helped you out of the goodness of my heart?”
It was the
longest sentence she’d heard him utter, and it made her heart leap into her
throat. “Uh, no, but I’m still grateful.”
I’m getting something in return.” His blue eyes seemed to impale her. “Right?”
Never for a
minute had she hoped he would generously give her a pass. Of course, she was
going to have to fuck him.
He took three
steps over until he was standing next to the bed, directly in front of where
she was sitting. “Take off your shirt.”
Riana gasped and
darted her eyes over to the bars of the cell. The other prisoners were still
milling outside, some blatantly staring at the two of them inside.
He followed her
look. “There’s no privacy here. You’ll get used to it.”
When he didn’t
say anything else, she realized she was going to have to deal with the
embarrassment. With trembling fingers, she started to undo the buttons on the
front of her shirt.
The man watched
her. His face didn’t change, but she thought she saw something almost hungry in
his gaze when she dared to meet his eyes.
unbuttoned her shirt, she slowly pushed it off over her shoulders, left only in
her stretchy camisole.
“That one too,”
the man directed, his voice even lower and thicker than before.
Might as well
get it over with. Riana turned on the bed so she wouldn’t expose her breasts to
any passing ogler and pulled her camisole off over her head.
Her bare breasts
jiggled slightly from the motion. She didn’t have an extraordinarily voluptuous
figure. Her limbs were long and lean, and she’d always been fairly athletic.
But her breasts were firm and rounded, so she hoped he wouldn’t be
She was almost
as terrified of his deciding not to bother with her as she was of having him
(No author photo)
Claire has been writing romance
novels since she was twelve years old. She has a PhD in British literature
and, when she's not writing, she teaches English at the university
She also writes romance novels under the penname Noelle Adams.