Got me a guest today...
I'm over the moon to say happy release day to the lovely Doris o'Connor and showcase
Claimed at Christmas
and mega sorry, blogger won't let me add the cover picture...time to check it out on Evernight Publishing...
Blurb...
~Life starts at forty? Biggest lie ever told.
Leisha here—AKA crazy cat lady—resigned to live out my dotage with said felines. Okay, dotage might be pushing it a little, but, you know, sliding down the wrong side of forty is not the fun it’s cracked up to be.
Until I’m drafted in to help out at Santa’s grotto, and then… well crazy doesn’t come close. This new Santa is decidedly odd. Who ever heard of the man in the red suit 'not' granting wishes?
Still, when in Rome and all that…
Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think my wish for two Doms would be granted. However, when my two rescue cats magically transform into drop dead gorgeous hunks come Christmas morning, we’re all in for one hell of a ride.
Problem with magic is… can it last?~
and here's a wee tease
"Lie
still, sweet Leisha. You've earned yourself enough punishment as it is."
Good
God. It’s the voice from my dream. A voice so full
of authority and leashed passion, my breath hitches and excitement spreads
through my veins like wildfire.
"P-punishment?
What for?"
"Hmm,
let's see." The stranger, whose eyes hold me captive with their familiar
arrogance, smiles and presses his erection into my mound. "Does this feel
as though it ought to be castrated? And I won't even mention the fucking tags."
His
annoyed growl vibrates through me, until it settles in my swelling clit, and I
gasp as I take my first proper look at him.
It can’t be.
Yet,
there, right above me is the unmistakable evidence. My captor is missing his
right arm—just like Ben.
"Ease
up, Aran, you're scaring our woman. We need to explain this. Then we can paddle
that sweet ass of hers and give her the fucking she deserves."
"Paddle
… deserve?" I sound like a dimwitted parrot, but when one is staring at a
drop dead gorgeous human version of one's cat—and this one has a scar just like
Bill—surely a woman is allowed to sound like a feathered idiot. Or the Queen… Since
when do I sound as though I’ve swallowed a plum?
"You're
my cats. You're Bill and Ben." That statement comes out as a high-pitched
squeak, and both men growl.
Oh,
my goodness, those animalistic sounds… I just love a man who growls, don’t you?
"Another
ten swats to the tally for those ridiculous names, and we're not just
cats." Ben, Aran, or whoever the hell he is—right now I can’t bring myself
to care about the semantics of the situation—smiles. That action shows off a
set of razor-sharp teeth, and I forget to breathe altogether when his eyes
bleed to glowing amber. He leaps off me with all the speed and agility of a
large predator, and I can only watch in stunned fascination, as the men nod to
each other. The air shimmers around them, and in the blink of an eye, my
bedroom is filled by two huge, beautiful black panthers. They nudge each other
playfully, and before I have the chance to process of any of this, the air
shimmers and they’re back in their human, and very aroused, forms.
Two
impressive cocks bob up and down in front of me, and I can’t keep my eyes off
that poetry in motion. Heat rises in my cheeks at my thoughts, and the men
laugh. When I finally manage to wrench my eyes upwards, my insides clench in
need at the quiet way both men are studying me. A trickle of my essence seeps
out of my wet core, and both men pull in sharp breaths. Aran takes a step
toward me, but his brother stops him.
"Let
me go, Caid. She wants this as much as we do, don't you, sweet Leisha? Are you
not wondering how our cocks would feel buried deep inside your cunt and ass,
right now? Have you not fantasized about this many a night when you kicked the
covers off to use your toys?" He smirks at my far too telling rough inhale
and fists his cock slowly.
Unbidden,
my gaze follows the movements of his fist. The first drop of pre-cum aids the
glide of his hand, and I lick my lips in anticipation of his taste. It’s been
way too long since I last tasted cock, let alone one as magnificent as this
one.
"Aran." Caid's sharp command forces
a snarl from Aran’s wide chest. He flicks his unruly mop of hair out of his
face with an impatient toss of his head and the bed dips under his weight when
he sits down.
"Forgive
my brother, Leisha. It's been a while since we were able to shift in and out of
our true form. This," he waves his hand toward his own thick erection,
"is a side effect of the shift. Not that I don't have every intention of
fucking you until you can't walk straight, but first things first. Acting
rashly is what got us into this predicament in the first place."
My
head starts to pound again, and not due to any leftover hangover from my wine-induced
stupor the night before.
"I
don't understand. If you're panthers, why were you cats? Why stay with me? And
what predicament?" Something else occurs to me, and I pull the sheet up to
my nose to cover up. "And if you're only wanting to fuck me, 'cause shifting
makes you extra horny, then you can forget it."
I
hate the telltale wobble in my voice. Just my damn luck this is. Two gorgeous,
naked men are in my room, and they don’t even want me for me. So much for Santa granting my wish. Sick bastard!
Aran's
annoyed growl shakes the bed, and I squirm under the disapproving look Caid
pins on me. My nipples bead into hard nubs, my stomach lurches, and every
submissive bone in my body screams, God, yes!
"That
will be another ten. How much is the tally now, Aran?"
"Thirty,
brother. It's a shame we can't take her to the club, but I'm sure we can
improvise. That hairbrush she's been torturing us with should do the trick,
nicely." Aran chuckles, and I swear every hair on my body stands to
attention at that dangerously sexy laugh.
"I
… you wouldn't dare." My protest is far too breathy, and sure enough both
men just smirk. Excitement pools low in my belly at the determined expression
on their faces, and I clamp my thighs together to relieve the throbbing in my
clit.
Aran
grabs my foot and shakes his head. His suddenly clawed fingers dig in just
enough to hurt, and I can feel my eyes widen in shock, or maybe that’s just
pure unadulterated lust. I can’t believe how turned on I am already, and
they’ve barely touched me.
"Stop
fidgeting. From now on your orgasms belong to us. There will be no getting
yourself off unless we give you permission."
You can get your copy of Claimed at Christmas
Happy Reading,
love Raven xx
