An interview with author, M.A. Jewell, on her novel, Jungle Rapture

Hello, M.A., your new novel, Jungle Rapture, sounds intriguing. Jaguars and shifting, that’s so cool!

This is the first book in your series, The Jaguar Queens. How exciting!

What would you like readers to know about your book?

As I researched poaching and the plight of those endangered species, I developed a passion for my subject. The injuries incurred by Cinnamon (a natural jaguar in Jungle Rapture), were taken directly from a shameful account of a jaguar snared in the United States. Truthfully, I scaled back from real life. That jaguar ultimately died due to his injuries.

What was it like to write the story? Did you face any difficulties/challenges?

Thrilling!  Once I visualized the opening scene and outlined the plot, I couldn’t stop. I hand wrote most of the first draft during an over-night flight to Bangkok.  During my stay at a Thailand hotel, I transcribed the story into Word.

While there, my computer was attacked by who-knows-what and froze solid.  In my frenzy to write, I hadn’t once backed up the manuscript. After a nail-biting trip to the mall, I mimed my problem to a scary-looking computer person who didn’t speak English. I left with my laptop running, manuscript intact…but all the text read in Thai.


What do you love about your story, and why?

I truly adore my characters. Kelsi is real, she is strong, and she is flawed. Jaime is a sensitive, protective male with too much pride. Together, they meet in the middle and save each other.

What have you learned from the main characters in your story?

Courage. I came to writing later in life, mostly due to cowardice. Fear of what others may think or say about my work intimidated me. When I wrote Jungle Rapture, I held nothing back. I leapt out the window of my own choosing.

Do you write in other genres and if so, what are they? What genres would you like to try that you haven’t already?

Critique partners have talked me into trying contemporary, which is amazing since I don’t usually read this subgenre. One day I may try a historical. I love to read them.

What or who influences your writing?

I think every book I’ve ever read has influenced me to a degree. I credit voracious reading with my interest in writing.

Where do you find your inspiration?

From childhood, events have always triggered daydreams. For me, a spoken phrase or an emotional exchange between people triggers a “what if?”.  A well-done photo or painting makes me think of a scene to accompany the image. Last, but most effective, is writing. Drafting Jungle Rapture triggered plots and characters for Book II & III. Any emotion-evoking stimulus prompts a scene in my head.

Who are your author idols and if you met them what would you say to them?

Nalini Singh, Diana Gabaldon, Jeaniene Frost are a few.  I would thank them for the hours of entertainment!

If you had to choose your three favorite books by other authors, what would they be and why? 

Outlander (Gabaldon) would be my overall favorite. I love epic reads that combine history with characters who come alive in my head. I still remember skipping an activity to race home to see how Claire would save Jaime. Admittedly, I even worried about them during my work shift. The level of skill required to involve a reader to that degree – pretty impressive.

Do you have any interests outside of writing, and if so, what are they?

The biggest draw in my life is my first grandson. Perfect of course. So if babysitting is an outside interest, I’m all over it.

What is your next literary project?

Falling: Small Town Love Anthology will be self-published by my critique group, Omaha Romance Writers and Critique Group -led by Jules Dixon. My contribution will be a contemporary novella titled Autumn Renewal.

Somewhere between that and Christmas, I hope to submit a full length novel,  Jungle Salvation, The Jaguar Queens Book II to Evernight.

Blurb for your book:

Jungle Rapture

An advocate for endangered species, journalist Kelsi Gorman travels to the Brazilian Amazon to locate a mysterious black jaguar the size of a saber-toothed tiger. Instead, the enormous cat finds her knee deep in mud, blood, and smugglers.

Jaime Salazar, one of a few surviving all-male jaguar shifters, encounters a scent he never thought to find –female jag shifter. Jag queens exist only in the elders’ stories, but someone staked out a she-cat like poacher bait.

In a fit of primal instinct, Jaime marks Kelsi as his mate. Now, no other female will arouse him. To avoid a long celibate life, he is forced to woo his reluctant mate-to-be. But first, he must keep her alive.

Excerpt from your book:

Chapter One

Tears blurred Kelsi Gorman’s view of David’s body, face down in the mud, only feet from her in the tight Amazon clearing. His camera pack rested against his side with a strap still looped over one shoulder. She was too terrified to mourn, as her grief-numbing dread consumed her.

A few yards to the south, a limp, muddied jaguar appeared just as dead. Wire cable stretched taut from a rust-colored front paw to a tree-embedded anchor about knee high. Jungle-floor sludge painted over her rosettes.

Kelsi almost wished the poachers had tranquilized her, too. Twine scored her wrists secured behind a tree trunk. Her hidden hands trembled with mounting panic as she picked at the knotted hemp.

A twenty-something Brazilian with coffee-toned skin stepped toward her, his pungent body odor preceding him. He stood nose to nose to her five-foot-seven height. Dark eyes scanned her body. Kelsi turned from his scrutiny and swallowed against the stench.

His steel rifle barrel lifted her chin. He turned a questioning look to his partner. Kelsi stilled. This was it. She strained to catch meaning in their Portuguese. “Carlos? Green eyes … sell … Manaus. Good money.”

Sexual enslavement terrified her, but also ignited hope. Stay alive. Traffickers dealt in drugs, exotic animals, and human cargo—and Brazil was a hotbed for all three. These poachers would be connected to the slave trade. An escape into Manaus, the capital of Amazonas, seemed possible, unlike here, surrounded by savage rainforest.

Stocky, with close-cropped, graying hair, and equally fragrant, Carlos appeared in charge. His hands stilled on a portable cage he assembled. “Too old, Julio! White … United States!”

Bile rose to Kelsi’s throat. She tilted her head and widened her eyes, willing the older man to find her marketable, a challenge, since her shoulder-length, chestnut hair stuck to her face in damp clumps. Nor did her sweat-ringed shirt and baggy pants show her figure to any advantage.

Disgust plain on his face, Carlos berated his partner, gesturing to David’s body. They spoke too fast for Kelsi’s elementary Portuguese. But apparently, Julio had erred when he killed her photographer.

If they didn’t sell her… Kelsi’s blood ran cold

Finally, Carlos leveled a black-eyed glare at Julio. “Police … kill her.”

Julio sent Kelsi a startled look. For an instant, she thought he’d refuse. A defeated expression lined his face before he pulled his gaze away.

Heart pounding a staccato beat, she pushed back at the eruption that clawed inside her chest. Not now! Panic-filled eyes would give her away. If the poachers realized she understood them, she’d lose her only advantage. She jerked her gaze to the tangled foliage behind them.

Deafening bird racket burst from the canopy high above. As the pandemonium died down, a cough came from the undergrowth. The poachers froze. Both men leapt to the center of the space and stood back to back. Carlos lifted a tranquilizer rifle against his shoulder, loaded a dart, and slammed the bolt into firing position. Julio mirrored him with his own lethal weapon.

They turned in sync, scanning the green morass. Kelsi shuddered when the business end of Julio’s loaded rifle passed over her. Behind the two men, giant spade-shaped leaves pulsed as a shadow moved between them. Her heart jumped under her sternum. Maybe the cowardly guide she’d hired had returned. She dared to hope for a rescue.

“I’m an American! U.S. Army Rangers will come for me!” She shouted nonsense to distract the two men. Unless the no-good jungle expert returned, she and the poachers were the only humans within fifty miles.

Carlos gave her a dismissive glance, but appeared satisfied nothing lurked outside the clearing. Julio ignored her and paced to the immobile cat.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to David. Tears streamed her face.

She’d lured him to his death with promises of publication in the National Geographic. An article on a black jaguar, rumored to be the size of a saber-toothed tiger, had meant so much to her. Now, she’d join David.

Carlos strode to the man’s body and pulled it to its side. No longer flaccid, the corpse turned board-like. Various sized ants traveled his skin, already doing Mother Nature’s work. Nausea churned her stomach. If rigor mortis had set in, she’d been tied up for at least two hours.

After taking their wallets from their backpacks, Carlos grabbed the camera and used his machete to cut the strap from David’s neck. He fumbled the memory card from its slot then dropped the high-end Canon into the mud.

Images of the two poachers charging the thrashing jaguar had earned David a bullet to the chest.

Idiota.” Carlos spat at the ground. With a booted foot, he shoved David back into the muck. The wet slurp broke something inside her.

“You disgusting pig! Don’t touch him!” Angry sobs punctuated her outburst. Without sparing her a glance, Carlos joined Julio near the unconscious jaguar.

Kelsi scanned her surroundings with new determination. Trees, a couple feet apart, reached skyward in a palisade-style cage while congested vines and ferns defended the ground beneath. All home to myriad toxic plants and venomous creatures. Beyond the jungle gauntlet—a three-day hike to the north—lay the only route to civilization, a caiman-infested river. Escape would be short-lived, but she had to try.

A few feet away, Carlos propped his machete against a stump. “Cage … jaguar.”

Kelsi plotted her moves to escape her bonds. She’d grab the blade, decapitate Julio, and run Carlos through mid-body. The men struggled to load the cat into the kennel. Both laid their guns down to use their hands. Her best shot at freedom had materialized.

With all her might, she jerked her left arm once, then twice to no avail.

Carlos and Julio turned toward her as one. Julio retrieved his rifle as he rose. Time to pay for her long-odds wager. Black seeped into her vision. Tears obscured her executioner’s face. “Please, Julio. Don’t.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. The squish of his mired steps halted at her side. Metal grated as the rifle’s bolt slid back. A round clicked into the chamber. Cool steel pressed to her temple.

“Our Father, who…” Her shaky words trailed away.

Buy links:

Evernight Publishing


Social Media Links:






An interview with author, Ravenna Tate, on her latest release, Spanked into Submission

Hello, Ravenna, your new novel, Spanked into Submission, sounds hot! It creates all kinds of questions!

What would you like readers to know about your book?

This is the second book in The Spanking Experiments series, and it introduces the second of three Doms who own the BDSM club Sensations. Each of these books are erotic, contemporary, BDSM, May-December, and Rubenesque.

What was it like to write the story? Did you face any difficulties/challenges?

The hero and heroine in this book are both biracial, and the decision to make them so stemmed from a presentation the mega-talented Shyla Colt gave to our Indiana RWA chapter on diversity in erotic romance. I wanted to honor her challenge to each of us to become more aware of the need for diversity in the genre.

What do you love about your story, and why?

I love the uncomplicated plots of each of the books in this series. They’re a nice change from my usual twists and turns.

What have you learned from the main characters in your story?

That falling in love has no time limits.

Do you write in other genres and if so, what are they? What genres would you like to try that you haven’t already?

I’ve written just about everything except MC romance, and I’m trying that next. ☺

What or who influences your writing?

Too many to name.

Where do you find your inspiration?

From just about anywhere, really.

Who are your author idols and if you met them what would you say to them?

I’d fall down at Stephen King’s feet and say, “I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!” I’d also love to sit and have a cuppa with J.K. Rowling. ☺

If you had to choose your three favorite books by other authors, what would they be and why?

A Rose in Winter by Kathleen Woodiwiss, Sweet, Savage Love by Rosemary Rogers, The Other Side of Midnight by Sidney Sheldon

Why? Because after all these years (decades), those stories still stand out in my mind.

Do you have any interests outside of writing, and if so, what are they?

Sleeping ☺

What is your next literary project?

The Spanking Experiments will have ten books in all. I’m also working on two MC romance series that will share story threads.

Blurb for Spanked into Submission:

Macie Brooks has entertained fantasies of being spanked all her adult life. But until she decided to answer an ad on a BDSM site, seeking participants for a survey on impact play, she had given up hope of fulfilling those fantasies in real life. Intimate relationships haven’t worked out for Macie. She’s been told she’s a freak because of her secret needs. And, because of her poor body image, she doesn’t believe herself desirable.

Dakar Garcia, the Dom at Sensations who introduces her to impact play during one erotic night at the club, is everything she’s ever dreamed of. Handsome, charming, and in control. Dakar has been searching for the woman of his dreams, but without much luck. Is it possible he’s found the perfect submissive, and the perfect lover, in Macie?

Excerpt from Spanked into Submission:

“Do you know what this is?”

“A spanking glove, Sir?”

“Yes. It’ll protect my hand from getting sore, but will still give your luscious round ass a nice burn.” After he moves the toys on his left to his right, he spreads his legs apart slightly and pats his left thigh. “Drape your lower torso over my thigh, facing me at an angle.”

I don’t quite picture what he means until I lie over his thigh and he moves me further to the left a bit, so that I’m almost lying next to him. His right leg pins both of mine across the backs, and he drapes his left forearm across my middle back. I’m trapped against his hard, muscled body. My pussy is soaked now, and tiny contractions flutter the walls once again. Underneath my lower abdomen, his muscled thigh presses against me.

“Are you comfortable?” That voice! It washes over me, deep and sexy, until I would do anything to hear it.

“Very, Sir.” Speaking is difficult.

“This will hurt, Macie.”

The first swats are delivered on one side, then the other, in rapid-fire succession. I yell and try to get away, but he has me held too tightly. Now I understand why he put on the glove. By the third swat on each cheek, tears stream down my face and I expect to smell the smoke from the fire on my ass.

At the same time, it’s so damn arousing that I’m having a tiny orgasm. I never would have believed such a thing was possible, except that each swat pushes my clit into his thigh. When he reaches six on each side, my yells have turned to moans, and the contractions inside my pussy are still going.

The combination of pain and pleasure is like a drug. I want more. If this happens from a simple spanking, what will those floggers and paddles do to me? My mind fills with erotic images as he delivers the last three smacks on each side. I picture him fucking me, his cock in every hole, and my ass raw from those toys he chose.

When it’s over, I simply lie there, letting my imagination run wild. Maybe if I don’t move, he’ll keep going?

“What have we here?” His voice breaks through my fog, and I gasp as fingertips brush my labia. “You are soaking wet, Macie.” He says it like he’s surprised. Good lord. Has the man ever looked into a mirror?

“Yes, Sir, I sure am.”

A soft chuckle accompanies him slipping a finger into my wetness. I moan loudly as he massages that perfect spot inside. “Very nice.” He removes his finger and slides two inside. While he moves them in and out, he rubs my clit with his thumb, and I turn to jelly.

Now I’m moaning and writhing against his touch as an intense orgasm begins to build. Not shy any longer about the silly skirt, I’m glad it’s open in the back. If this is the reward for letting him spank me until I cry, bring on that chainmail flogger and leather paddle!

Ravenna Tate’s biographical note:

Ravenna Tate lives in the Midwest where it’s cold six months out of the year, but inside her stories you’ll find plenty of heat. The sex is hot, the men are alpha, and the women give them a run for their money.

Buy links:


Evernight Author Page:


Facebook Author Page:


Social Media Links:


Manic Readers:


The Romance Reviews:



Barnes & Noble:





An interview with author, Raven McAllan, on her latest release, Cat with the Blue Eyes

Hello, Raven, your new novel about shifters sound exciting and what a cool cover!

What would you like readers to know about your book?

Cat with the Blue Eyes is the first book in a new series called The Cats of Craig Mhor.

Catlin can’t shift, even though her parents could, and she’s so unsure about how it will affect Dylan.

He of course is confident it doesn’t matter at all.

Does it?

Well, you’ll need to read the story to find out.

It’s just a short story, but one I hope people will find as satisfying to read as I did to write.

What was it like to write the story? Did you face any difficulties/challenges?

It’s set in The Trossachs, in Scotland an area I know and love very well. If we were to be very exact about Scottish Wild Cat’s territory it’s probably a bit far south for them, but as my cats are shifters, there is no reason they can’t live there. It’s perfect for them. Mountains, lochs and wooded glens.

The difficulty is I suppose to create a realistic scenario, where shifters can live and work, and still make it a place that if you visited you’d be able to say, ‘aha I bet this is where Cat lives.’

I much prefer to set my stories in places I know and love. The only thing I might do is move a house to a new part of the area. After all I’m not sure my neighbors won’t want people knocking on their door and asking to see the room Dylan shifts in, or the school Cat teaches at.

What have you learned from the main characters in your story?

It’s so much fun to discover who and what they are. I’m very much character driven in this book, and as they revealed themselves to me, I learned how they think, how they react and, most importantly, how I need to do as they say, not make them do as I say. (That never works. I learned that right back at the beginning of my career.)

Do you write in other genres and if so, what are they? 

I write romance in various guises, for quite sweet to quite hot, and I guess from sensual to dark. (Dark romance as Kera Faire)

I also write YA as J. Lilley. The reissued Shalean Moon series, about Leopard shifter in yes, you guessed it The Trossachs will be reissued in the late summer.

What genres would you like to try that you haven’t already?

Maybe a crime story one day, but you know? I’m really happy doing what I do.

What or who influences your writing?

My mood and my muse I guess. I just write.

Where do you find your inspiration?

Everywhere and anywhere. I got one idea for a story, as I washed up, and another when I was on holiday in Devon and decided the house we rented was perfect for one of my Regency heroines, as well as a contemporary. The village there and indeed the village I live in Scotland are often used, and I used a holiday villa in Majorca for the setting of another book.

Do you have any interests outside of writing, and if so, what are they?

Does wine, chocolate and travel count? I also like tapestry, and reading of course.

What is your next literary project?

A Regency—the next book in my Daring Ladies series. That’s a short series about unconventional ladies who don’t follow the rules of the times. Such great fun to write. This one is about a young girl who stands in for a dancer at short notice and attracts the attention of a Duke.

Blurb for Cat with Blue Eyes:

It’s not easy being among wild cat shifters, when you’re simply human. Especially, when you’re trying to keep your supposed mate at arm’s length.

Catlin Creamer isn’t buying into this destiny nonsense. What does that even mean?

Dylan MacSween might be her every fantasy on legs, but she will not be subjugated by any man, let alone an Alpha like him.

Give him a pack to rule any time. Wooing a female like Cat is a complete step into the unknown. However, this Alpha knows what he wants, and he wants his mate.

Persuading her might take some time, but when his leadership is challenged, Cat proves herself more than worthy as his life partner.

Take one red-haired blue-eyed Cat. 

That’s Catlin—she can’t shift.

Add Dylan—who can.

Stir in melodrama, malice, and mischief and watch the fur fly.


Excerpt from Cat with the Blue Eyes:

The cat next to her smiled—if that’s what you called the baring of canines—shook and morphed into a hot as hades male. One she’d sworn off ages ago.

He was bad enough as a cat. As a human, a naked human, he was ten times worse.

Dylan MacSween stretched and her mouth went dry.

God, he was magnificent. Long tawny tresses with those gold and dark streaks in them, just like his fur when he’d shifted. A torso sprinkled with short strands of gold and black, which arrowed downward to where dark, wiry, hair made a nest for his, she had to admit, rather magnificent cock. To say she drooled was an understatement.

Her mouth went dry as she thought of what he could do with that appendage…if she agreed to mate with him.

Unfortunately for her, he was her designated mate and she was having none of it. No way would she be told to mate, or subjugate herself to anyone. Even if it did mean she stayed single forever.

“You’d hate it.” Dylan shook his head and let his hair spin around and settle on his shoulders. “Being single for ever.”

“Dammit, keep out of my thoughts. It’s rude to listen in,” she said indignantly. “Mine all mine.”

“You forget as my life partner to be, I can read you without consciously trying. Hear you automatically,” Dylan said as he finger combed his hair and plaited it loosely. “Sod it, this needs cutting.  Have you got an elastic handy? Nowhere to hide one like this.” He regarded his naked body unselfconsciously.

Catlin rummaged in her pocket and brought out a pink scrunchy. “Only this.” She waited to see what he’d say as she dangled it from one finger and whirled it around in a circle.

“Thanks, that’s fine.” Dylan took it from her mid-swing, and secured the end of his plait. “Right, any clues where my jeans are?”

“Where you left them maybe?” Catlin said sweetly. Something in his tone annoyed her. “I’m not your servant. I have no idea where you dump stuff, because I have no need to.”

Dylan gave her a black look. His eyes glowed yellow and dangerous before he blinked and sheathed his inner cat.  She shivered. Why, oh why did she insist on challenging him?

Because he’s too big for his paws that’s why. But was he? Or was he merely fulfilling his role in the Dowt—their group of Scottish Wild Cats that lived and worked as humans part of the time and shifted into their wild forms at others.

“Never said you were my servant, sweet Cat. I don’t want a servant. I want a partner.”

Buy links:

amazon uk

amazon .com

My stalking links

Well what can I say?

I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Oh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

http:/ / (my page) (author page)     (Amazon. com page)      (Amazon UK)






An interview with author, Erin Leaf, on her latest release, Dawn

I’m very excited to welcome author, Erin Leaf, to my blog. Hello, Erin, I’m so excited about your new novel! What an incredible cover!

What would you like readers to know about your book?

My latest release is Dawn, the third book of the Stronghold series:

The Sentries are territorial, guarded, and relentless in their duty to defend humanity from a secret, deadly menace. In order to remain vigilant, these semi-immortal men must remain aloof and solitary. No one, not even their true mate, will distract them from their mission to protect Earth from annihilation…

Blurb for Dawn:

Saige Ellis can spot a liar from a hundred yards away, and she knows her history professor is bad news. She hates the way he hides behind his stupid sunglasses and beard. She hates the way his ridiculously perfect body makes her feel. When he asks her to stay after class, she asks him what he’s trying to prove.

Isaac Dawn hates having to hide his identity, but it’s the only way he can get close to Saige without tipping everyone off about his identity as a Sentry. He knows she’s his perfect match, but she’s skittish and angry, and for good reason—her abusive father has been stalking her for years. When he asks her to give him a chance, Saige demands the truth, and he blows it.

However, when murderous aliens are real, and a mysterious shadow follows Saige home, is her demand for honesty worth her life? Can she accept Isaac’s help without losing herself?

What was it like to write the story? Did you face any difficulties/challenges?

Writing Dawn was like slipping into an old pair of slippers I’d forgotten I loved. I knew my characters and knew it was finally time to tell their story.

What do you love about your story, and why?

I love Saige, the heroine. She’s damaged, but she’s still strong. She has to work through a lot of trauma in order to let the hero love her.

What have you learned from the main characters in your story?

That love can sometimes happen when you least expect it!

Do you write in other genres and if so, what are they? What genres would you like to try that you haven’t already?

I write in all genres across romance: suspense, gay romance, ménage, sci-fi, contemporary, BDSM, humor, etc. I love playing around with tropes. Some of my favorite stories feature friends-to-lovers.

Where do you find your inspiration?

Inspiration is never the problem! Finding the time to write down all of my story ideas is the problem.

If you had to choose your three favorite books by other authors, what would they be and why?

I don’t have favorites! I read so much that it would be impossible to name a favorite writer.

Do you have any interests outside of writing, and if so, what are they?

I have a lot of other interests. I think living life to the fullest gives my stories a sense of place and character that they wouldn’t otherwise have. Some of my favorite things to do are: hiking, photography, cooking, reading, birding, dancing, and more.

What is your next literary project?

For my next book, I’m going to write something fun. It will probably be a gay romance, and I’m toying around with the idea of a very angry man meeting his match.

Excerpt from Dawn:

“Jesus, I hate these stupid glasses you wear,” she said unexpectedly, reaching up and pulling them off. She tossed the useless lenses onto her bed next to her cell phone. “You make me crazy.” She punctuated her words with a finger poking his chest. “Why are you being so nice to me?” She ended up with her palm pressed against him. “I’m not a good person.”

“You’re not a bad person, Saige.” Isaac said, almost holding his breath. This close up she couldn’t fail to see the silver shards in his green irises, but would she put the clues together? Right now, she had no idea who he really was. A voice at the back of his head told him that she’d figure it out soon. Saige wasn’t a stupid girl.

No, she isn’t a stupid woman, he corrected himself. The female looking up at him had too much life experience and determination to be anything other than a fully grown adult. “Saige,” he said, voice going low. “What are you doing?” His cock hardened as her warmth seeped through his clothes, and he shifted slightly so she wouldn’t feel it. God help him, he wanted her with a desperation bordering on insanity. Her emotions skittered over his senses, and he almost stopped breathing when he sensed her arousal suddenly spike.

“Shut up, Isaac.” She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his head down. “I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, and then she put her lips against his.

She smelled like mint. Isaac shuddered, and then he pulled her tight against his body, seizing control of the kiss. He coaxed her lips open, dipping inside when she gasped.

“Holy moly,” Saige said, voice breathy.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Isaac said, hands splayed across her shoulder blades. “You’re playing with fire.” She felt so tiny against him, but her energy put the lie to her physical appearance. Her small frame held enough spirit for someone three times her size. He kissed her again, cock throbbing against her hip.

“God, you drive me nuts,” she said when he came up for air. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders. “Look at you. You have muscles on top of your muscles. And you hide them and pretend like you’re some nerdy academic.”

Isaac shrugged the jacket to the floor, wanting to feel her soft curves closer to his skin. “What are you talking about? I like this jacket. It’s comfortable, not nerdy.”

“It totally is nerdy,” she retorted, and then she kissed him again, clearly determined to steal every last shred of control that he had left.

Isaac slid his hands into her hair and nibbled her lower lip. “Fuck.” He couldn’t get enough of her. Energy flickered through his body like lightning on a hot summer day. “Are you sure about this? You were just flipping out over your father.” He hated having to remind her about the phone call, but he didn’t want her to want him for the wrong reasons.

“Yeah, I’m sure. And I know this is so stupid,” Saige said, panting as she leaned into him, wiggling her breasts against his chest. “You’re my professor. This is not a good idea.”

Isaac groaned and picked her up. She squeaked, but then she wrapped her legs around his hips, canting her body just right to rub against his erection. “Fuck, Saige. We have to stop.”

“Ha. Too late. I’ve made up my mind.” Saige had her hands in his hair. “Oh, I hate your beard, too, by the way.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “I don’t normally wear it this scraggly.” He staggered to the door, then pressed her against it. Her softness felt like heaven against his torso.

“Of course you don’t. Another pointless disguise,” she said, eyes bright with desire.

“Shit. Be sure, Saige. I’m losing the ability to care whether this is stupid.” Isaac slid his hands under her ass, squeezing until she trembled. She’s on some kind of emotional rebound, and this probably won’t help her, his mind reasoned, but his body had other ideas. His hips jammed up into her, grinding against her core.

“I’m sure we should stop, but I’m not going to.” She licked her lips, eyes fastened on his mouth. “You should shave that thing.”

“Fuck.” Isaac kissed her again, effectively shutting her up. I’ll trim it tonight, he vowed, like an idiot. She clung to him as he rolled his hips. Her arousal pushed his higher, and before he could figure out what was happening, he was on the edge of orgasm. “Jesus,” he said, voice shaking. “I’m so fucking close. You make me crazy, Saige.” With a supreme effort of will, he lurched away from the door and managed to stagger across the room. He dropped her on her mattress, going to his knees as he did so. As he’d suspected, her skin and eyes looked almost incandescent against the green of her bedding. “Beautiful,” he breathed, kneeling between her legs.

“Off,” she said, fighting with the snap on his jeans.

He put his hands over hers. “Saige.” He licked suddenly dry lips. He had a feeling that if they did this, nothing would be the same. Her emotions were all over the place: arousal, need, fear, frustration. It made him want to protect her even more. Is this how Greyson felt when he met Eva? he wondered.

“What?” She sounded cranky.

He smiled, amused by her belligerence. “I’m going to ask you one more time: are you sure you want to do this? There’s no going back if we do. This isn’t a hookup.”

“No going back where? It’s not like we’re getting married, Isaac,” she retorted impatiently. Her fingers yanked on his pants.

Shit. She has no idea. He exhaled as his empathy picked up on her uncertainty, despite her words. “This won’t be a one-time thing for me, Saige. I’m not a hookup kind of guy. And you’re the one who was freaking out because I’m your history professor. Be sure.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. God, he wanted to devour her. To make her scream. “I want you, but if we do this, I don’t want you to regret what you discover about me.”

Buy links:

 Evernight — Amazon — BookStrand — Smashwords — Kobo — Barnes & Noble — iBooks

Social Media Links:



Twitter: @erinmleaf