Marrick's Promise - Available Now

Hi everyone!

Marrick’s Promise is now available from Resplendence Publishing. It’s book two in the Thrown to the Lions Series, and it’s best read in sequence as part of that series. It’s also Male/Male/Male, BDSM and werelions.

Just click on the cover art to buy :)

Here’s the blurb:

Marrick thinks that being thrown to the lions will be the ultimate adrenaline rush, and he’s not disappointed. But his plan is to try everything life has to offer once. He has no intention of visiting the lions again.

Blaine and Luther don’t expect to give any of the human sacrifices they share another thought once they leave the den. This man’s different. They have no intention of letting this one go. The only question is, while they are willing to share Marrick with each other, are they willing to share each other with a human who could become as important to each of them as they are to each other?

And here’s a quick excerpt:

As far as Marrick Powell was concerned, there was only one thing better than one naked man pressed intimately against his skin, and that was two naked bodies, completely surrounding him with a solid wall of heat and strength.

Lions…the very thought of the shifters had kept him hard ever since the guys at the pub had first put him, bound and blindfolded, in the back of the limo. The reality of it was so much better than any of the possibilities his imagination had managed to cook up—especially since there seemed to be a fantastic buy one get one free offer on werelions that night.

Rough gravel bit into Marrick’s feet as he wriggled between the two shifters, but that wasn’t important. His squirming informed him that the guy behind him was just as hard as he was. Sore feet couldn’t compete with that sort of knowledge. Arching his back, he explored the other man as best he could while his hands were still bound behind his back.

The man…the lion…the…whatever the hell he should be called, was all gloriously hard muscle. Marrick pushed his arse back in encouragement as the tip of the other guys cock nudged against the cleft between his buttocks.

Someone purred in his ear. Rough palms slid down his arms. Another set of equally demanding hands slid up his chest, exploring him as if it was their right—as if he’d given them that right when he agreed to be their human sacrifice for the night. Marrick grinned blindly into the night air as an extra shot of adrenaline raced through his veins as the truth of his situation sunk in. He redoubled his efforts to explore the other men in return.

Great builds, equally impressive cocks—there were some things he was soon certain of. But the men could still have been twins for all Marrick was able to tell them apart through his blindfold. They moved around him, caressing and assessing him, changing places with each other until he had no idea which man had originally been where.

A tiny part of him cared which man was which. Most of him really didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t as if he was ever going to see their faces, as if he’d ever meet them again. The pure anonymity of it all made his heart race faster, his body arch into their touch even more eagerly.

Bungee jumping had been a rush. White water rafting better than he’d ever imagined it could be. But, in that moment, Marrick knew that being thrown to the lions was easily going to be the best thing he’d ever tick off the extensive list of things he was determined to squeeze into his life. Even the whips wielded by the local doms couldn’t compete with the endorphins just being close to the lions sent swirling through him.

One of Marrick’s soon to be lovers purred his approval against his neck as Marrick managed to force his restrained hands into a position where he could wrap his fist around the shifter’s cock.

He was just like a very well hung human—except for the fact his whole body was hotter than any man Marrick had ever known. The cool air that blew across the driveway didn’t seem to worry either shifter. Caught between them, Marrick found himself content to let the party start wherever the hell they wanted it too.

Gravel marks on his knees probably wouldn’t be that much more painful than carpet burns, and if the sharp little stones broke the skin, Marrick gave a mental shrug—he knew he’d enjoy looking at the scars when the blindfold came off.

“Inside—all of you!”

The voice didn’t come from either of his new friends. Disorientated from the lions’ inspection of him, Marrick could only assume it originated from inside the house. He moaned his disapproval as the other men slipped away from him, leaving him with nothing more than their hands gripping his arms as they led him forward.

He stumbled along between them, into the mild warmth of one room, then into the heat of another. The softness of a rug under his feet tempered his silent curses a little. He’d had gravel rash a time or two when his faith in his mountain biking ability wasn’t matched by his actual talent—it hadn’t been a particularly erotic sort of pain. A rug would probably be more fun. Besides, they had the whole evening. No point staying out there the whole time and catching a chill…

The hands on Marrick’s arms remained long after they came to a halt. It didn’t take him long to realize that all three of them were facing someone else now. Marrick tried to get a sense of the room and who might be studying him and his new friends.

He had the distinct impression he was being inspected, but it was nothing like feeling a voyeur’s gaze traverse his skin—he’d felt that often enough in the clubs. The gaze felt more like the way he imagined a betting man might judge the worth of a boxer about to step into the ring. It was impersonal, practical, and had a strange way of making a man hope it would declare him up to scratch for the bout.

“I take it there’s no need to ask if you two are interested in him.” The voice was deep and rich, and whoever it belonged to wasn’t making any attempt to hide his amusement. Marrick grinned, guessing the other two men were still just as hard as he was.

“Yes,” someone said to his left. The man on his right said nothing. Marrick could only hope that was because he’d offered up a silent nod instead.

“He’ll probably enjoy himself far more if you leave his arms in working order.” A hint of seriousness crept into the voice facing them.

The hands on his arms instantly eased their grips. Behind the blindfold, Marrick frowned. They’d felt pretty bloody good as they were. The grips didn’t tighten again, but the men’s hold did alter as he felt someone step in front of him. Barely a fraction of a moment later, the other man’s hand slid against his skin and Marrick felt the second shifter move behind him.

“Manners, Luther,” the deep, serious voice bit out.

The lion in front of Marrick pulled back a little as he seemed to hesitate. “If you say ‘sword’, we have to let you go.” The words were little more than a rough purr.

The still un-named lion behind Marrick lined his body up against him, pressing a hard shifter-cock against his arse. “If you don’t say it, we can do whatever we want with you.” His voice was harsher, and dominant enough to send an expectant thrill down Marrick’s spine.

He waited impatiently for one of the men to move. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting with him. A full minute passed.

“They won’t do anything until you give them your answer.” That was the deeper voice again.

Marrick blinked in the darkness behind the blindfold as he realized they weren’t waiting with him, but for him. “I understand. Safe word’s sword. Got it.”

The words before hadn’t been a purr. The noise the shifter in front of him made as he brought their lips together was a purr. The vibrations shot down Marrick’s spine and rushed straight to his cock, making him moan as he parted his lips and invited the other man to deepen the kiss.

Once more surrounded by naked skin as the shifter behind him pulled him closer, Marrick rocked his hips rubbing his arse against one lion, his cock against the other, and any bit of skin he could, against any available portion of the other men’s bodies.

Tugging at the bindings around his wrists, he tried to work out if he could squirm his way out of the cuffs. The blindfold was fair enough. Anonymity—a few hours stolen away from the real world where a man could do whatever the hell he liked and never have to face the other guy, or guys, in the morning. He was all on board for that. The blindfold was hot. The cuffs were just bloody well annoying.

Either the lions didn’t notice that he was trying to get rid of them, or they didn’t care. The lion in front of him, the one called Luther, broke the kiss. A moment later Marrick’s face was turned, his mouth captured by another eager pair of lips.

A rough tongue thrust into his mouth demanding to taste him. Marrick’s tongue stroked against the shifter’s, eagerly sparring with him as he tried to explore the other man’s mouth in return.

The lion slid his hands into Marrick’s hair as they fought each other for control of the kiss, but the shifter’s grip on him provided scant advantage, especially when he kind of liked the way the guy tugged at the short black strands.

Marrick was almost as good at controlling a kiss as the other guy—almost. Pleasure rushed through him as the other guy wrangled control from him and refused to give any scrap of it back.

As one kiss was broken and the other lion took his turn possessing Marrick’s mouth, one of the shifters wrapped his fingers around Marrick’s cock. His grip was strong, his strokes rapid, but at the same time, he could tell the other man was holding back on him, gentling his touch when he could easily have been rougher.

Sod that. There was no way he was going to stand for being treated like some fragile little princess. That wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He could hold his own in the best leather clubs in the city, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do the same in the lions’ den too.

Just click on the cover art to buy.

Gay Man Seeks Same

Hi everyone,

Gay Man Seeks Same is out today from Total-e-bound. It’s Male/Male, BDSM. It’s the 8th book in the G-A-Y Lust Bite series, but it can be read as a standalone.

Just click on the pic to find out more.

Here’s the blurb:

Can a man who wants nothing more than to be part of a boring old married couple really find happiness with a man whose relationships have only ever lasted until he zips up his fly?

Craig knows what he’s looking for in a lover. He wants someone just like him—a nice guy he can build a nice, simple, uneventful life with. He’s hoping that’s just the sort of man who will answer his internet ad.

Donovan’s nothing like Craig. He’s all about leather, fast cars and relationships that last hours rather than years. They may work at neighbouring desks, and Craig may have a crush on his colleague, but that doesn’t mean he should forget about the kind of man he’s sure will make him happy in the long run.

The only trouble with internet ads is you never know who will answer them…

And here’s a quick excerpt:

“You realise the guy’s never going to recognise you from that ad?”

Craig McKinley ignored the question and frowned at the choice of ties laying on his desk. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. He reached for the blue, hesitated and went back to looking at each strip of fabric in turn.

“I said—” Donovan began again, from the desk to Craig’s right.

“I told the truth,” Craig said. He wasn’t going to worry about the possibility he and his internet date might spend his entire lunch break lurking around the same bar without recognising each other. He wasn’t going to worry about any of the other things that could go wrong either.

The tie was the thing to concentrate on. Pick the right tie and everything would be fine—or, at least, he’d feel more appropriately dressed when everything went wrong and it all hit the fan.

“The ad said… Twenty-six year old gay man seeks same for long term relationship. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Slim build. Average appearance. Own home and car. Secure job.”

Craig nodded to each point as the slightly older man recited the ad at him. “Like I said—I told the truth.”

Donovan made a sceptical noise in the back of his throat. “Maybe—more or less.”

Craig frowned, wondering which part of the advertisement the other man thought he was lying about.

“You’re really selling yourself short on the whole average thing, sweetheart.”

Craig didn’t need to look to the side and see the other man’s expression. He’d spent long enough staring at Donovan over the months they’d worked at adjoining desks to know just how the other man’s eyes sparkled when he teased.

Heat rushed to Craig’s cheeks, despite the fact he knew Donovan flirted with everyone in the building, male and female, in exactly the same way. Craig mentally rolled his eyes at himself. Eight bloody months, and the guy could still get him all hot under the collar with nothing more than a casual compliment.

“But that’s not my point,” Donovan went on. “He won’t recognise you, because he’ll assume you were lying. No one tells the truth in that sort of advert.”

“The kind of man I’m hoping to meet would.”

Donovan let out a long suffering sigh. “If you’d let me take you to a club rather than put some ad on the internet then—”

“I don’t like clubs, and I’m not looking for some drunken one night stand.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Craig followed them up with a string of silent curses inside his head.

He gave in to temptation and glanced to his right. His colleague appeared more amused than offended. Donovan lounged back in his office chair, denim clad legs sprawled out under his desk as if he was relaxing in a pub rather than sitting in an office.

“The men I’d meet in the clubs around here would be…” Craig trailed off.

“Men like me?” Donovan’s lips twisted into a lopsided little smile. Craig was sure it was that smile that had all the guys in the local gay clubs queuing up to spend a night in Donovan’s bed, or to join him in the alley, or…Craig wasn’t sure of the details. He tried to avoid hearing any gossip regarding the other man’s sex life.

He didn’t need anyone to help him picture Donovan having sex. He was quite capable of doing that on his own—and it was far more fun to do so in private than while standing around the vending machine. Especially since the last thing he wanted, was for his colleagues to guess just how much he enjoyed imagining the other man doing a wide variety of interesting, x-rated things.

Donovan leaned even further back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head until they almost touched the work station behind them. Craig’s eyes raked down the other man’s body, from where his t-shirt pulled tight across his pecs and rucked up to expose his abs, then further down to the low slung waist of his jeans. A light dusting of brown hairs formed a pretty little happy trail that disappeared into his fly.

It wasn’t just the smile that made everyone so eager to spend an evening in Donovan’s company. Craig snapped his attention back to his ties and his plans for his lunch hour.

“I’m just looking for someone…someone more like me.” Yes, he repeated inside his head. That’s what he was looking for. Someone ready to settle down, someone who thought a relationship should be counted out in years rather than hours. He was not looking for a Donovan Stone.

Thanks for reading :)

Competition Winners Announced

Hi everyone,

First of all a huge thank you to everyone who joined me on my celebration post last week. All your comments really meant a lot.

The winners of the competition are: Sandy Jay and Nikyta.

All you have to do is e-mail me and let me know which book you’d like me to send you!

And, since I got a little bit carried away and forgot to actually tell you anything about the book that was released last week, lol, here’s the blurb and the excerpt…

Blurb:

All Constable Hadley wants to do is put the last few weeks behind him. As if being taken hostage wasn’t bad enough, he’s had to deal with all the stupid publicity that’s surrounded him ever since. And the fact that he hasn’t slept since that night isn’t helping him feel any better about the world either.

The last thing Hadley needs is a shrink wandering around inside his head trying to dig up all his dirty little secrets. When he finds out he’s being sent to Dr. Rawlings—the man he’s had a crush on for months—Hadley knows his life has finally hit rock bottom.

The only thing that could make things worse for Hadley would be Dr. Rawlings finding out how he feels about him. But fate wouldn’t be that cruel to him—would it?


And here’s the excerpt:

Just imagine him naked… Talk about the single worst piece of advice anyone had ever given a guy.

Constable Joe Hadley held back a sigh and did his best not to gawp like a teenage boy who couldn’t sit opposite a grown man without making a compete pillock out of himself.

Dr. Rawlings gazed back at him across the desk—tall, dark and as perfect as ever.

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Hadley renewed his attempts not to stare. It wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t fair either. Psychiatrists weren’t supposed to look like that.

They were supposed to be…well, Hadley wasn’t entirely sure, but surely any man who spent all his time sitting behind a desk digging through other people’s minds should be… Shorter? Skinnier? Generally far less like the guy Hadley had been fantasizing about ever since he’d realized that gay porn was a damn sight more interesting than the straight kind?

And now that he’d started picturing the man stark bullock naked, he couldn’t stop. The mental image wasn’t making him the least bit less nervous. It was starting to make him hard.

Hadley cleared his throat. “Can we just get this over with?”

The other man’s lips twitched. Hadley had seen that smile creep out when Rawlings was at the police station consulting on a case. Except, back at the station, there were always a dozen other police officers in the room, and Hadley had some chance of blending into the background.

In the station, the feeling that his every reaction was being studied and dissected by the other man was obviously paranoia. In the psychiatrist’s office, it was hard to believe the idea was anything other than perfectly accurate.

“That’s good, Hadley,” Rawlings said, his voice slow and rich with amusement. “This sort of session is always far easier when everyone’s enthusiastic about it, right from the start.”

Hadley wasn’t going to blush. He was twenty-five years old, a serving police officer and lots of other things that meant he certainly wasn’t the sort of man who blushed like a little girl when confronted by a little bit of gentle sarcasm—even if it was drawled by the same voice he often imagined ordering him down onto his knees…

The constable felt the heat rush to his cheeks regardless of all the very logical things he told his blood supply. “I’m not traumatized,” he blurted out, suddenly desperate to just get it all over with as quickly as possible.

Rawlings raised an eyebrow at him. Well, Dr. Rawlings could cheerfully go to hell, because it was the truth. And no man was going to make him squirm like a naughty schoolboy called into the headmaster’s office just for telling the truth.

Hadley folded his arms as he leaned back in the deeply upholstered chair and crossed his ankles. A second later, he leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees.

“I’m not traumatized,” he repeated, slightly more calmly. “I don’t need a shrink.” When Dr. Rawlings said nothing, Hadley had no choice but to push on. “And, since I’m sure there are a great many people who really do need your help, I don’t want to waste any more of your time than I already have.”

“That makes sense,” Rawlings agreed.

Hadley managed a nervous smile. “So, if you’ll just show me the inkblots or tick the box that says I’m not psychotic then we could—”

“We could just get this over with?” Rawlings cut in.

Hadley leaned back in his chair once more. Not sure what else to say or do, he fell completely still and silent.

After a few seconds, Rawlings nodded to himself, as if that was what he’d been waiting for ever since Hadley arrived at his office. “Tell me what happened.”

Hadley was pretty sure it was supposed to sound like an invitation to share his deepest darkest secrets with a trained professional. Somehow his brain turned it into an order, a command to do as the other man said or accept the consequences when he was turned over Rawlings’ knee.

-------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

The book is available here :)

Double Celebration! (Win an e-book)

Hi everyone,

I'm having a double celebration today.

The first half of the celebration is kind of easy to explain. Handcuffs and Leather was released yesterday by Resplendence Publishing, and it's officially my 25th e-book to go on sale.

Needless to say, I'm really chuffed with that!

The other half of the celebration needs a bit more back ground.

*Deep breath* Here goes...

Two months ago, I thought I was going to have to give up writing for publication.

As some of you already know, I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome / ME. As well as the physical symptoms, there are a few psychological ones. They call it brain fog, where you're so exhausted and in so much pain that you just can't think properly.

Well, over the last two years, while things have gone really well for me writing wise, they've really sucked health wise and the brain fog in particular got progressively worse.

Fast forward to two months ago and I'd completely lost faith in my own mind. One of the reasons why I've managed to publish 25 books in so short a time (apart from the fact I write short books, lol) is fear. It's amazing how much writing you can do today, if you're not sure if tomorrow will be the day your mind finally topples over the edge and you completely lose the ability to write at all and that was a very real fear for me.

As far as I was concerned, I was on a mental downhill spiral and I'd pretty much hit rock bottom.

Then, seven weeks ago, I tried a new treatment. I don't use the word miraculous lightly, but it really is the only word that fits. With in a few days of taking my new tablets, my mind started to clear. Not only that, but the pain started to lift, the fatigue started to improve too. After almost two months on the tablets my mind is working better than it has through the last 13 years - since I'm 26 now, that's officially half my lifetime!

I feel like I've been given my mind back. I'm still ill, I know that. But I can see some sort of hope for the future now. I don't know how long the miracle will last, but I really am cherishing every day.

So, yes, a double celebration, and anyone who leaves a comment will be entered into a draw to win an e-book from my back list. (IOU's are available for future releases if you have all the back list ones you want!)

Competition closes midnight GMT Sunday 23rd, when the winner will be announced on this blog.

Thanks guys!

Kim.

Proudly presenting - Gay Pride!

Hi everyone,

I have a new e-book out today.

If you like the bratty subs from any of the previous books, Gay Pride one might be one for you!

Here’s the blurb:

A naked submissive and a rainbow coloured flag, what gay dominant could resist?

Crenshaw hasn’t had much time to hit the leather clubs since he got really involved in the gay pride movement, but when he finds a drunken submissive standing on his doorstep wearing nothing more than a rainbow coloured flag, it’s obviously time for him to get back into the game.

Jayden might not be really into the whole gay pride thing, but he’s very proud of his plan to get Crenshaw’s attention. All he has to do now, is convince the older man to keep him around once he’s sobered up.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

The young man was naked, bar the rainbow coloured flag. He’d wrapped the material around his shoulders and draped it over his body, but as the wind caught at the edge of the fabric it was impossible to miss just how bare he was behind the scant covering.

Mr. William Crenshaw looked his visitor up and down and quickly came to the conclusion that he’d never seen him before in his life. He’d have remembered a face like that. Bright blue eyes peeked out from behind a messy mop of blond hair as the breeze blew the several golden strands across the boy’s face.

As he reached up to push his hair out of the way, the boy almost lost his grip on his flag. Crenshaw caught a glimpse of beautiful lines of slim muscle before the younger man pulled the fluttering fabric back into place. He’d have remembered a body like that too.

“Hi.”

Crenshaw pulled his attention back up to the other man’s eyes. “Hello.” He waited for the other man to say something else, perhaps even to present some explanation of why he was standing on his doorstep. The guy offered him a hopeful little smile, but that seemed to be the only contribution he intended to make to the conversation.

Holding back a sigh, Crenshaw looked past the man who’d rung his door bell and glanced both ways along the quiet street. The car he expected to see parked a little way down the road wasn’t there. At least, there was an unfamiliar car, but it didn’t contain any of the men he’d assumed that it would.

On the positive side, the vehicle didn’t contain any paparazzi either. That was something to be grateful for, at least.

Crenshaw’s visitor turned and followed his gaze. “Were you expecting someone else, sir?” He sounded quite worried about the possibility.

“No, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He’d actually been quite content with the prospect of some peace and solitude after a day filled with meetings crammed full of men who thought their point would carry more weight if it was shouted very loudly.

A relieved light filled the younger man’s eyes. He smiled as he shrugged his shoulders in an effort to stop the flag from slipping away again. Crenshaw took a deep breath and resisted the temptation to let it out as a sigh. When the man facing him looked so young and clueless, it was hard not to feel old. The flag bearer couldn’t have been far into his twenties. His nervousness made him appear even younger.

“Exactly which of the leather clubs are you attempting to join?” Crenshaw asked with as much patience as he could muster. He hadn’t heard anything about any new subs being hazed in anywhere that weekend. Although, it had been so long since he’d found time to hit the clubs and play, it was hardly surprising that he’d lost track of what had been pencilled into the local kinky calendar.

The relief drained out of the younger man’s eyes to be replaced with confusion. “Sir?”

The honorific implied that he had some tiny clue about the world he was trying to work his way into but, if Crenshaw was any judge, that was the full extent of his knowledge. Whatever idiot thought the boy was ready to try and become a formal member of any club deserved to be soundly whipped—unless they were a masochist, of course, in which case they deserved to be soundly barred from the pleasure of a whipping for the foreseeable future.

The boy rocked back onto his heels. He righted himself just a moment before Crenshaw reached out to keep him on his feet. “You’re drunk.”

The younger man gave the matter considerable analysis. “Yes, sir.”

Crenshaw ground his teeth. “Who sent you here?” If nothing else, he would have to find out which club the sender belonged to—if only so he could make his opinions on getting young men drunk and sending them off to submit to strangers very clear.

If this was any indication of the way standards had slipped while he’d been focusing on other things, there was no doubt that he’d have to find the time to visit the clubs more often.

Being discreet about his taste in leather was one thing, but he was damned if he was going to let a certain type of reporter keep him out of the clubs forever—especially not when the local scene seemed to be going to the dogs in his absence.

Thanks for reading!

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?