We Host – The End Game by Kera Faire

 

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A Scottish-based author with the love of the unexpected, Kera writes stories to make your heart miss a beat. Living in the land of the spirits helps her to get in the right frame of mind and find light in the dark side of life.

Let’s hope you think The End Game does just that.

www.evernightpublishing.com/the-end-game-by-kera-faire

www.ravenmcallan.com

Blurb Skinny

the-end-game-evernightpublishing-2016-finalimageAs an undercover operative, your life is not your own and you can’t trust anyone.

Emma MacKay is only too aware of that, but it still sucks when you have to take out a friend’s fiancé, because he’s suspected of being a traitor.

Milo Dorn is more than an undercover operative. He’s one of the dispatchers, secret killers for the department.

When someone is feeding his pigs fresh meat he needs to find answers.

What he finds instead is the woman of his dreams. While the sex is mind blowing, and makes him want to throw away the rule book, he cannot forget the first rule of the game.

Trust no one.

When the truth comes out, can Milo and Emma find a way to each other, or are their jobs an obstacle to high to overcome?

The End Game is on.

 

Excerpt skinny

‘What sort of person accepts what’s going on and makes the best of it?”

“A horny one?” She laughed throatily. “And let’s face it, what else can I do? I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

That made him grin. “Yeah. So go on, sweet cheeks, what next?”

She bit her lip and looked pointedly at her ankles where her trousers and underwear were in a crumpled heap. “Take off my shoes and trousers for me and I’ll show you.”

That seemed reasonable. Milo tugged and pulled where necessary until she was as near as dammit naked. Now he had a chance to look at her closely, he could see red patches where he’d rubbed his stubble over her soft skin. Her bra and t shirt were pushed up and her luscious breasts with puckered nipples called to him like a siren.

He traced one red patch gently. “Shit, sorry, I guess I was a bit rough.”

She nodded. “Just a bit, but did you hear me complain?”

Well, no, she has a point.

Okay so what next? “Over to you, sweet cheeks. It seems you’re the one directing the traffic.”

“You better believe it,” she drawled and closed her legs. Disappointment stabbed at him, until he saw the speculative expression on her face.

“Pity, pet,” he drawled. “That was a great view.”

She dipped her head. “Not pet, I don’t bark or meow, just purr on occasion.”

He laughed. “Sweet cheeks?”

She sighed, very dramatically. “If you must. Put your leg either side of mine, not too close, lean back and think of Scotland.”

“What?” Now he was puzzled. Excited, aroused, but puzzled.

She tilted her head “Are you chicken, Sir?” She clucked and he burst out laughing.

“Nope. Okay.” He did as she bid and found himself with his cock between her feet before he had a chance to say ‘what’s next?’.

Milo swallowed. “Ah and now?”

“Now this.” The soles of her feet encased his cock and slowly began to move up and down his hard length.

Milo swore his eyes crossed as she varied the speed and depth of her strokes. Why had this never happened before? Fucking hell her feet moved in such a way his pre-cum covered them within seconds.

Stroke, sigh. “Ah that is so good to do. Oh my.Better to fe… ah sweet jesus.” Somehow she’d nipped his foreskin between her toes, just enough to sting. “Bloody… sweet cheeks you’re killing me here.”

“No… not yet…  now more eh… like this…” Her words made little sense to him. Every fiber of his being was concentrated on those magic feet stroking his dick. Milo stopped thinking and let his climax roll through his overheated body.

He stiffened and she chuckled before tightening her hold on him, and he came in a roar. Cum spurted all over her feet, his balls and the grass beneath him.

“Sweet cheeks, you are a genius,” he said as soon as he had enough breath to speak. “I’ll never look at feet in the same way again.”

“I bet not.” Her toes tightened on him, and them she moved. “Sorry, Sir. I have no option.”

Milo didn’t even see it coming.

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We Host – Re/Leased Doms of the FBI by Michele Zurlo

Michele Zurlo is the author of over 20 romance novels. She writes contemporary and paranormal, BDSM and mainstream—whatever it takes to give her characters the happy endings they deserve.

She confesses that she’s not half as interesting as her characters. Her childhood dreams tended to stretch no further than the next book in her to-be-read pile, and she aspired to be a librarian so she could read all day. She ended up teaching middle school, so that fulfilled part of her dream. Some words of wisdom from an inspiring lady had her tapping out stories on her first laptop, so in the evenings, romantic tales flow from her fingertips.

She’s pretty impulsive when it comes to big decisions, especially when it’s something she’s never done before. Writing is just one in a long line of impulsive decisions that turned out to showcase her great instincts. Find out more at www.michelezurloauthor.com or @MZurloAuthor.

Swirl

released 500Honoring a promise he made to his late mother, David Eastridge, part owner of SAFE Security, returns home one final time—to help his father find the culprit responsible for embezzling three million dollars from his company. It should be an easy job—his father already has a suspect in mind.

After a series of tragic events that robbed her of a father and put her sister in a coma, Autumn Sullivan was forced to take on several jobs just to get by. She’s an accounting assistant by day, an occasional service Domme on the weekend, and a thief-for-hire by night.

David’s strategy of hiring Autumn—as a submissive—backfires when he finds himself enchanted by her sense of humor and playful attitude. Determined to prove her innocence, he enlists the help of Malcolm Legato and Agent Keith Rossetti to dig deeper. This enigmatic submissive is openly hiding things from him. Her secretive nature and the bread crumbs she drops about her past don’t add up—not even when he assigns Jesse Foraker, his SAFE Security buddy—to tail her and search her apartment. None of them are prepared for what the FBI uncovers.

Falling in love wasn’t in the plan, but David makes her believe that she isn’t doomed to live a solitary life. Plunged into a world of lies and espionage—with a serial killer after her—Autumn is forced to come to terms with her past if she is to have any hope of a future with David.

Warnings: BDSM party games, sex toys, bondage, flogging, spanking, and a trip to the beach

Swirl

He parked, and they walked to the entrance. Autumn’s pace slowed considerably as they approached the gates. He paused to let her take in the magnificence of the entrance. “It’s impressive.”

She panned the area, taking it all in. “That’s a very large tiger statue.”

Darcy tugged at Malcolm’s arm. “Let’s get our picture with it.” She thrust her camera at Autumn. “Will you take it?”

“Sure.” Autumn waited until they were positioned, and then she clicked several photos. Then she whirled, her hand shooting out to grab the wrist of a passerby. She twisted it, putting enough pressure near the base of the thumb to cause serious pain. The boy cried out, but she lacked mercy. She twisted harder. “You sincerely don’t want to do that. My boyfriend is a mercenary, and he’s not the forgiving type.”

David wasn’t sure what she was doing, but he knew he needed to intervene. Before he could say anything, the boy reached in his pocket and handed over a wallet—David’s wallet. Too wrapped up in Autumn, he’d let down his guard. He checked to make sure nothing was gone. “Thanks.”

Autumn eased the pressure on the boy’s wrist. “This isn’t the life you want. You should think about choosing another career.” She let go, and the boy disappeared into the crowd.

Malcolm and Darcy returned, and Autumn gave Darcy her phone back.

“What happened?” Malcolm asked.

“A pickpocket tried for my wallet, and Sugar caught him.”

A light blush stole up her cheeks, probably at his public use of the nickname. “Crowds make for easy targets. You have to watch out.”

Darcy looked impressed. “It’s a good thing you were watching. I’m not that observant.” She gestured toward the tiger statue. “Your turn.”

After handing his phone to Darcy, he slung his arm around Autumn’s waist and steered her toward the statue. “I’d love it if you didn’t call me a mercenary in public. It sends the wrong message.”

“Yeah, but ‘security specialist’ just makes you sound like a mall cop. Nothing against mall cops, but they’re not big, bad, and dangerous like you.”

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