Hi all, great to see you. I want to give big thank you to Paige for inviting me… Okay I was ready to get down on my knees and beg, pretty please with bells on, but she said yes before I had to, (my knees are very happy about that) and here I am.
With my dark side, Kera Faire and the latest Death Isle book, The Furnace Man.
This story evolved when I was lucky enough to go to the opening of a new furnace at a glassworks.
As ever someone asked about my books, someone mentioned The Dispatcher, the first book in the series and then the talk turned to how else they could get ride of traitors, other than feeding them to pigs.
Someone said about how you could dispose of one in a furnace, and two hours later, after picking everyone’s brains, the idea for this book was born.
I had so much fun writing it. My Kera side sure does have her own ideas on how a romance evolves, even if it is just that bit different to the norm. Anyway, what is the norm?
Don’t piss off the furnace man.
It might be a standing joke around the glass factory— he’ll mix you with the sand and burn you, leaving nothing left to discover—but Lindsey Earnshaw is about to find out the truth behind it.
Placed there to spy on the place on behalf of the government, a warning message brings forth not only a dead body, but also the one man she’s never forgotten.
Michael Hoult cannot believe his eyes, when his ex-wife turns out to be the receptionist on duty. Having to drug her in order to not blow his cover will not earn him her renewed submission, neither will whisking her away to the Death Isle.
Duty first, though. It cost him his marriage all those years ago, but with Lindsey now working for the same side, can they not only catch a killer, but also rediscover each other?
And a wee tease…
“Pet, you need to listen carefully.” The hand on her ass was hard, stinging, and she welcomed the pain. “I’m going to fuck you deep and fast. From behind, and enjoy watching those luscious red cheeks move for me. Five more on each side I think, to make them glow. Count for me pet. Color?”
“Green, oh god, ahhh…” The spanks rained down on her bottom and she arched into them, embracing the sensation of being wanted by her Sir.
Lindsey moaned and counted the strikes. By the tenth she was floating. As he entered her, and his balls slapped against her she pushed back, to help him get even further inside her. To connect with him. To be his pet. His sub. His. Only his.
Her boobs swayed and he reached around and pinched one nipple hard.
“Next time I’m putting clamps and a chain on. Watch your tits sway and feel you come alive to that pain.” His breath grew harsh as she matched him, panting with each thrust. The pictures he conjured up gathered her juices and made her even more wet and needy.
He stiffened, and she groaned.
“Now pet, come for me … now.” He roared the words, bent so his chest hair rasped across her back and before she could beg for more, he bit her neck.
Hot cum filled her as he shouted out his completion.
Her climax overwhelmed her and she screamed. “Michael.”
The name echoed around her mind.
Lindsey writhed in the bed. The empty except for her bed.
Outside the early predawn showed it wasn’t time to get up.
Inside the sheets were twisted around her legs and her hair was plastered to her face. She swore and pushed the damp strands back with shaking hands.
That bloody dream again. She glanced at the clock. Plenty of time.
Now where the hell was her bullet?