Caught in the Middle PRINT

Excerpt from: 'Swingtime' by Desiree Holt

Lanie Burrell flipped a page in the book she was reading and sighed. Since she’d taken a job as reviewer for erotic romance publishers, she’d become all too aware of how pitiful her own sex life was. She could only lose herself in the pages of someone else’s fantasy so many times before wondering if she’d ever get to live out her fantasies. If the closest she would get was reading about them while she sunned herself on her patio.

She turned a page and sighed. This particular book was about a ménage, and the heroine was in bed for the first time with both lovers. Naked, they lay back on the cool cotton sheets, hands stroking each other, touching each other’s sex organs in erotic exploration. The heroine had just—

“Lanie?”

The deep male voice startled her, and she jumped, dropping her book on the patio beside her chair.

“Ohmigod, Cody.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “You scared me out of ten years’ growth.”

Her neighbour didn’t usually sneak up on her this way. It was bad enough living on the same cul-de-sac with a man who made her mouth water, her nipples stand at attention and her crotch dampen whenever she laid eyes on him, but she usually had enough warning that she could keep herself under control. Today not only had he walked into her yard without notice, but if she’d been an aggressive, uninhibited female, she would have given in to her feelings and thrown herself at him, begging for wild, crazy sex.

Excerpt from: 'Charity's Auction' by Ashley Ladd

Charity “Char” Reynolds stared at Dr. Dexter Graham, her eyes narrowed, her heart doing the cha-cha while mathematical calculations flew around in her head. He was gorgeous with his dark, five o’clock shadow, the sexy glint in his eyes, and his broad, powerful shoulders. If it weren’t for that smirk on his lips, he’d be perfect. But he was far from it. He only looked perfect.

The good doctor was a bad boy through and through. It was a toss up whether he mended or broke more hearts. His record on the operating room table was stellar. Off, however, was horrendous. He’d broken so many hearts with that killer smile and huge dimples he should be thrown into solitary confinement for the rest of his miserable life.

Amy Koch, the hospital’s chief administrator, adjusted the microphone with her only hand. Then she tapped the instrument and blew into it. “Can you hear me?”

When the sound from the mic blasted through Char’s head, she clapped her hands over her ears in self-preservation. “Have mercy, woman.”

Once her brain stopped spinning and she was able to see again, she looked over a sea of other people holding their ears. Tentatively, she removed one hand, keeping it close just in case the mic went crazy again.

So far so good. Slowly, she lowered her other hand but kept it at the ready as she warily kept her eye on Amy.

Although, she felt sorry for Amy since the car wreck that had amputated the administrator’s left arm, that she couldn’t find anything to like about her caused her to war with feelings of guilt and distrust. Even before the accident, Amy had only been out for number one, stepping on anybody in her way, claiming it was for the greater good. Now people overlooked her mean tempered whining—until they came into her sights. Char had been dead centre in Amy’s far too often. As head surgical nurse, she and Amy butted heads daily.

Excerpt from: 'Between Tooth and Paw' by Kim Dare

“This is an incredibly stupid idea.”

“It is the only way.”

“If they kill each other off, that is one thing. But, I will not condone throwing the girl in the middle of it all.”

Jasmine Neal knelt naked in the middle of the hotel bedroom. Her training had long ago instilled in her that during a scene a submissive’s gaze should never rise from the floor. Unable to look up and see anyone’s face, she watched various pairs of expensive shoes walk around her as a dozen eyes trailed over her skin, examining her body from every angle.

Forcing herself to stay still under their casual inspection, she made yet another attempt to work out which voice belonged to which pair of circling shoes.

“Perhaps she will be a good influence on them.” A woman’s voice. High heeled stilettos—very expensive but discreetly so—they fitted the cultured tone of voice perfectly. Old money, a vampire perhaps.

“Huh!” That exclamation, no doubt, belonged to the scuffed loafers. The edge of the man’s trousers had frayed where they’d rubbed on the floor. Poor perhaps or, more likely given the situation, a man who was simply careless of clothes and appearances. Perhaps, a man who felt more at home in a fur coat than a tailored suit—a werewolf.

“Then perhaps she will distract them,” the woman suggested.

“The situation has been explained to her and humans are far more resilient than you give them credit for. I have every confidence she will survive the encounter.”

Jasmine didn’t need the help of footwear to identify that voice. She knew Mr. Washington’s voice very well. Harsh, commanding and undeniably dominant. Even if she hadn’t known already, she would have guessed he’d wear military boots—each one always polished to a gleam by another person’s hands. A submissive’s hands. In this particular case, by her hands.

Excerpt from: 'Mating Season' by Nadia Aidan

“I need you and Roarke to mate with me.”

Detective Gabriel Alekseev had just taken a sip of his morning coffee only to have it come spewing back up to stain the papers across his desk.

He stared at his partner and friend of almost two years, as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“You heard me, Gabriel. I need you and Roarke to mate with me,” Collette Talbot repeated as she folded her arms across her chest.

He stared at her in shock, unable to believe how calm she appeared, as if what she was suggesting wasn’t the least bit bizarre.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. Where did he even begin?

“Okay, putting your statement aside for just a moment, can I ask you why you require the services of me and my best friend?”

For the first time since she’d barged into his office, she actually looked distressed. Well good, because that made two of them. She flopped down in the leather chair on the other side of his desk and released a sigh, her lovely cinnamon face glowing red as if she could barely contain a fury that simmered just beneath the surface.

“I’m in heat, or at least I will be in a week.”

Seconds ticked by in silence before he realised she wasn’t going to elaborate. “Okay, and?” He hedged.

“And, this will be my tenth cycle in heat.”

Excerpt from: 'Magical Menage' by Crissy Smith

For the residents of Grand Falls, Colorado, their town was a haven, a safe place to be themselves. A mixture of the supernatural world that can be found in one place. The sheriff was a werewolf, the town mayor was a vampire, and the fire chief a witch. All the creatures who call this place home had the protection of not only the town but of all of its residents.

Madison Montgomery watched as the first snowflakes of the year fell outside the door of her bookstore. She loved this time of year—when the end of fall came and the first days of winter were upon them.

The town sheriff drove by in his SUV, and Madison stepped away from the window. She’d been avoiding Sheriff Tom since last winter, when on New Year’s they’d shared a deep sensual kiss. It had heated her blood and body and left her aching for more. By the look on his face, he’d also been surprised by the kiss.

Normally this wouldn’t have a problem, but Madison had also shared a kiss with another man—Dante—and that had thrown her through a loop. Dante was the Master Vampire to the others in the area. He was like a father to them, connected by the sharing of blood.

Excerpt from: 'Trouble for Three' by Sascha Illyvich

Anneke was so fucking through with this mess. Men like Jones were an incompetent lot, and there sure were a fuck load of them.

“Ugh,” she stormed around the office, aware of the lush furniture that complimented Jones and his seemingly expensive taste. In truth, she’d been with him when he’d made his last few purchases, all discount knock-offs of clothing and furniture that would make the average woman sick from the sheer amount of his cheapness.

But that was only one straw out of many on the camel’s back.

“You were fucking another man last night and that whore. What more is there to say?”

“But Anna, wait!” Standing, he reached out to her over his cluttered desk. His hair had been parted in the centre so that it curled upwards, showing off his dark skin, delicate jaw and soft features. Dressed in a power suit that showed off clean lines and a tailored appearance, he had the looks all right.

But she didn’t care. Anneke spun on a heel and marched towards the door. Reaching for the handle, she looked over her shoulder, an angry smirk on her face. “Fuck off, Jones. We’re through. Deal with it.”