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Secret Fire (Uniform Encounters 5) Hot Excerpt Plus Contest

This has been a busy month for me so far - Secret Fire came out on May 1st and I'm readying for another Gin & Jazz release on June 6th, as well as putting the finishing touches on the next Uniform Encounters installment! Phew, I'm tired. But never too tired to share naughty excerpts or contest info.

From now until May 21st, Totally Bound is running an exciting contest where you can win 3 M/M e-books: Secret Fire by me, Riding & Regrets by Bailey Bradford and Ask the Oracle by JJ Black. To enter into the drawing CLICK HERE. Winners will be announced at the Facebook party on May 21st where you can also chat up me, Bailey and JJ. Come and join the party HERE.

Okay, now for the naughty excerpt part. In this scene, police officer Zach and Fire Marshal Daryl are right at the beginning of what they hope will become a lasting relationship. The one thing where neither one of them have any doubts is in the bedroom. They are so compatible in fact, that Daryl is hoping to share even more kinky fun with Zach - if he agrees....

“You want me to grab us another beer? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
A look passed over Daryl’s face that appeared to border on fear.
“Is that because I’m going to need it?”
Already standing, Zach bent to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Relax. It’s nothing bad.”
Looking uncertain, Daryl nodded. After getting the beers and sitting back down again, Zach considered Daryl. The vulnerability in him was more present than ever. And the seriousness he had initially assumed meant that Daryl was boring and hostile, Zach recognised as being something else entirely. It was actually more of an indicator of the depth of feeling inside of him.
A person I can get serious about.
That didn’t mean they still shouldn’t discuss things—especially things that related to the intimate part of their relationship.
“Last night was easily the best, most erotic, satisfying night of my life.” He chuckled. “Especially once we got to the part where I was satisfied.”
Daryl frowned. “But?”
“Um, so, are you like a Dom or something?”
Daryl widened his eyes. “What? You think I got a dungeon in the garage along with the treadmill?”
“Don’t dungeons need to be underground?”
Daryl shook his head and rubbed his hand across his beard. “I don’t know what is involved with dungeon etiquette and I’m most certainly not a Dom.” He frowned at Zach. “Is it that you like to top too?”
“No, that’s not it at all. I’m perfectly happy with the assignment of roles in our relationship. I was just curious because that was pretty intense last night. I’d like to know what to expect, what you expect from me.”
Zach could see that Daryl was lost in thought, frowning, his lips pressed in a hard line. “You really liked what we did last night?”
“My God, yes. I don’t know how else to express it to you.”
He nodded. “Then would you like to experiment some more with me, doing things like that?”
Zach sucked in a deep breath. He was trying to remain detached and conversational about the whole subject but his dick had its own ideas.
“Define ‘things like that’.”
Daryl shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
“How about whatever we want?”
“Yeah, okay.” He paused, a struggle seemingly going on inside him. “Just so you know, I’m not a true BDSM guy or anything like that. But I like being the top, controlling my man, controlling his pleasure. Things like tying up, blindfolding.” Daryl coughed and wiggled in his chair, his face flushing. “If you ever wanted, I wouldn’t be averse to trying other things like spanking or… You know…plugs, dildos, whatever you want.”
After Zach was sure that his jaw hadn’t hit the ground of the bar, he gaped at Daryl. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced about the room, his embarrassment a tangible thing.
Daryl peeked at him. “Too much?”
“Not at all. I haven’t done a lot of that stuff before, but hearing you talk about it leads me to suggest we get the hell out of here, put in some practice then do some shopping online at Kinky Toys R Us.”
“Is that a real shop?”
“I have no fucking idea.” Zach stood. “Let’s worry about it later.” He clapped his hands. “Why are you still seated? Let’s go.”
Daryl snorted. “I enjoy you, Zach.”
“I’ll be more enjoyable tied to your bed. Time’s wasting.”
Daryl shook his head. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”
To read about some more fun with Zach and Daryl, pick up your copy of Secret Fire HERE



A young hot lover man to fulfil your every desire—No strings attached—Satisfaction guaranteed.


That is the premise for my latest release!

 A lover so good he's PLATINUM—

Marcus....Platinum Pleasures

A wickedly sexy case of mistaken identity lands our heroine in a whole lot of amazing sex when she hires a lover for the evening. 


Ainsley’s doorbell chimed again. Oh goodie. She clasped her hands together and shivered with anticipation. Whoever her mystery man was, he was back—and she was ready to play.

Standing tall, holding in her stomach in and smiling widely, she braced herself for what lay ahead as she headed for the foyer. She was intrigued by whether anyone would be there or not this time. Maybe it was some kind of hide and seek. 

Kinky hide and seek, she hoped.

Her hand trembled on the knob as she opened her front door.
“Oh,” she said, surprised to see a man holding a large box of chocolates out to her. A very good looking younger man with intense blue eyes. Good, she’d asked for that. So good.
“Chocolates,” she purred, eyeing the trademark famous wrapping. “I love chocolate, especially Swiss.” 

Casting her eyes up, she surveyed the hunk before her. Suit and tie. Umm. Not quite what she’d been expecting, but then what did someone who came to fulfill your deepest sexual desires wear? They couldn’t very well parade around in their undies. Embarrassed, she glanced down at her mostly naked self then back up at her guest. His vivid blue eyes were glued to her body, his mouth agape.

“Oh, do come in,” she said, flattered that his gaze lingered on her as she held the door wide for him to enter. 
“Uh...uhhh,” he said after a pause, stepping cautiously across the threshold and into the marble foyer.

Damn, he was undeniably sexy, just what she’d asked for. And oh so young, what was he, twenty-five, if that? And that look on his face...he looked confused, as if unsure. Well she’d be only too happy to kiss that look right off him. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Miss Simmons?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

She pressed a finger across his lips to silence him. “Ah, no names, the company said so, remember?” she said, not removing her finger. “Call me...Mrs M.” She’d never been married, even though she’d lived with Charles for more years than proved wise. The very thought of going by a pseudonym sent an empowering thrill through her. Very Mrs Robinson, if she did say so herself.

“Mrs M,” he said, stepping back. Her finger fell from his lips. “I came to deliver”—he reached into his pocket as if looking for something—“to deliver... Damn,” he said, still searching for something.

“Later.” She was in no mood for any paperwork. It would just ruin the mood. As nervous as she was, now that her fantasy lover was there before her, she could barely wait for him to take control so she could just relax and be pleasured. Just as the Fantasies Incorporated’s website promised.
But he just stood there.

She waited, wondering if he was going to take charge soon. He didn’t make a move and she was nervous. Maybe she was supposed to make the first gesture? After all, she was the customer.

“Come...follow me,” she said, deciding she’d better make the first gesture. Leading the way through her cream and gold upholstered expanse of a living room, she stopped midway, sensing he wasn’t following. Glancing back, she saw he still stood in her wide front entrance.
“Well, come on,” she prompted, taking the moment to admire his sandy blond hair with the jagged edges that brushed just below his ears. She loved it when these young men wore their hair a little disheveled and longer like he did. She couldn’t wait to tangle her fingers through it while he pleasured her. Fucked her. Her cheeks flamed hot at the thought.

Her fantasy man smiled, almost shyly, his brow arching slightly. A cocky look, if ever she’d seen one. What a turn on that was, he must be playing into this whole Mrs Robinson theme. He nodded and stepped out of her foyer and into her home, following her to the opulent living room. Her body surged with anticipation. This was going to be the best Valentine’s present ever. Glancing back, she saw his eyes were riveted to her ass. She grew wet at the thought.

“I was expecting you.” She filled the silence with a nervous laugh as she stopped at the well-stocked bar on the far side of the room. The silver ice bucket gleamed with condensation, and the two crystal flutes she’d set beside it shimmered against the setting sun. Beyond their refreshments was one of the best views in Beverly Hills.

“You were?” He gulped, his Adam’s apple showing as he swallowed.

She nodded. “I have champagne do drink champagne, don’t you?” she inquired. Not waiting for the answer, she pulled the chilled bottle from the ice bucket. Slow droplets of condensation dripped onto the marble floor. “Here, you uncork it, I’m hopeless at it.” She handed him the bottle and sat down one of her bar stools, almost sliding off in her silky peignoir.

He smiled and loosened his tie. Oh, yum. He caught her gaze and he blushed. Fuck—did he really just blush? Oh, he played the Mrs Robinson thing better than she could have imagined.

Ainsley watched as he took the bottle and began to efficiently unwrap the foil, his nimble fingers working the cork loose with no effort. A slight pop uttered but no messy spillage. She liked that. Seemed he’d done this part before at least, as he poured two glasses.

“Thank you,” she said as he handed her a glass. “What should I call you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Mar...” he started. Again she pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him

“Ah.” She shook her head in disapproval. “Remember, no real names.”

“Okay.” He chuckled, and she smiled back.

It was the first time she’d seen him relax since he got in the door. She had to admit, when he flashed those melting blue eyes at her, and that drop dead sexy grin, she wanted to eat him up. All of him.

“Then call me...Mr...R,” he said, tentatively. “But really, I should give you your surprise, that is what I came here for.”

I hope you'll enjoy reading more about Ainsley's mystery lover....

Available for early download now!

General Release May 30th.



Not tonight, darling, I haven’t washed out the rubber…

(Image ©Depositphotos/everett225)

I’ve come across some interesting information whilst researching for my WIP, A Rancher for Rosie - the second book in The Duggans of Montana series. I won’t give too much away, but I wanted to find out more about contraceptive methods in the old Wild West. I really enjoy the research stage of writing, even when it pulls me out of the story because I need to check a fact or find something out.

Today, we have access to a range of ways to avoid getting pregnant or picking up some nasty sexually transmitted infection, even if no method (other than complete abstinence) is 100% effective. Back in the 1800s, the need for contraception was no different, but I’ll be honest…some of their methods weren’t pretty!
Here are a few examples of things women, especially prostitutes, did to avoid getting pregnant:

Relying on the rhythm method.

Using a womb veil, or cervical cap, which could be made out of the scraped out rind of half a lemon or treated sheep intestines.

Using early forms of condoms which were - ew - made out of sheep intestines or rubber. The latter could be washed out and reused. (Environmentally friendly!)

Inserting vinegar soaked sponges into the woman to create a hostile environment for ‘swimmers’.

Douching with a variety of substances such as pearlash, carbolic acid, quinine or lemon juice. Sometimes they created douches out of arsenic or mercury, combined with herbs like juniper, asafoetida and pennyroyal.

Having intercrural sex, which was simulating intercourse by holding the man’s erection between your thighs.

Indulging in anal sex.

The last resort - abortion - either by ingesting something with abortifacient properties, such as Queen Anne’s Lace seeds, or visiting an abortionist.

This list isn’t comprehensive, so let me know if you’re aware of any others.

Have a great month!

Molly xxx