Monday, 31 May 2010

Magenta Starling - Coming Soon!

What a beaut of a cover! I absolutely adore it. Thanks, Dar, you super woman, you!

We’re hoping for a July release of Magenta Starling. It has gone off to final line edits, God bless it, well on its way to going out into the world by itself, Mummy no longer there with the umbilical cord attached. It was fun to write about a demon meeting a ‘normal’ woman, and I loved dipping into the past, sending Morgan and Dion into a world where things happen differently to ours. And of course, the evil Jistin was a delight to write—gotta love a baddie!

So here is the excerpt for Magenta. Hope you enjoy, my beauties!

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.


Copyright © NATALIE DAE, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

At anchor in the deepest part of the bay, Morgan’s large yacht, The Magenta Starling, bobbed intermittently on languid evening waves. Morgan stood on deck, leaned on the prow rail and took in the lit shoreline, a pitch sky the backdrop to golden lights. The ocean crept up the beach as though unsure of its welcome, yet retreated just as slowly. Music filtered from the bars and clubs, a cacophony of mingled beats, unrecognizable as any individual tune. A carnival atmosphere raged ashore, the same as every other summer night—nothing unusual for this part of the world, where holidaymakers partied hard and spent their cash fluidly.

Morgan smiled. If only they knew what their cash could buy here.

A taxi-boat chugged toward her yacht, the tall floodlights illuminating white foam in the smaller vessel’s wake. Morgan made out two occupants—the captain and her client. He’d telephoned earlier and requested an evening appointment, but she’d been fully booked this sultry Friday. As soon as the call had ended, her cell rang again—her last evening client cancelling. She’d contemplated another night alone before a rush of abandonment gripped her. She’d contacted Dion and informed him of the free slot.

Now she released a harsh laugh at the pun. She hadn’t been filled in a long time. Unwilling to give herself to just anyone, she rebuffed any offers from clients wishing to include sex with their spankings. No. She wanted a genuine relationship, not men who visited her for what they couldn’t get at home.

Morgan sighed and ousted the dismal thoughts. Tonight she would once again play a part. The role of a woman in total control. And revel at being in Dion’s company.

The boat drew nearer, so she straightened and smoothed the front of her dress. Unusual for a client to request a little black frock that wasn’t made of rubber, but Dion always did. Still, she wasn’t complaining. Her normal attire would have been hell to work in tonight. The heat still lingered despite the cooler breeze, an almost stubborn refusal to be gone and give respite. She wiggled her toes in strappy black sandals and peered at the boat as it chugged alongside hers with a splutter-chug-burp. The captain waved and smiled, his gap-toothed grin dull in a face tanned deeply by the merciless sun. Dion stood, his back to her, hands in suit trouser pockets. The cut of his jacket appeared expensive, as did that of his blond, wavy hair, and Morgan deduced he’d had it trimmed since she last saw him.

“All right there, missus? I’ll be back at eleven then?” the captain shouted, the engine noise and burble of the ocean from its propeller muffling his words.

“Yes, thank you.” Morgan smiled, though her gaze remained on the man in his boat.

Dion turned in slow motion and revealed his profile, one she had seen in her dreams day and night since he’d first set foot on her yacht. He faced her, his skin bronzed, white shirt open at the neck. Tawny chest hairs peeked through the gap and set her heart racing.

God, I want to fuck him.

He gave a lazy smile and stooped to pick up a picnic basket, his gaze remaining on her. Excitement fluttered in her stomach and she swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat. He walked toward the side of the taxi-boat and Morgan leaned over the rail to relieve him of the basket he held aloft. Though curious as to what lay inside, she stilled her tongue and placed the basket on deck.

Dion turned to the captain. “I will call you later. I may not be ready by eleven.”

His voice, so cultured, reminded her of olden-day gentry. The captain saluted and Morgan frowned. For all Dion knew, she had another client booked after him. But in truth his audacity heightened her desire.

Dion held the rails of her yacht ladder and Morgan stepped back as he hauled himself aboard. His aftershave wafted in the humid air and she inhaled as deeply as she dared without alerting him to what she was doing. Undertones of bergamot and lemon assailed her, images of him naked and at her mercy dancing through her mind. Her cheeks heated and her pussy grew wet. Dion eyed her, his brown eyes harboring…lust?

Morgan swallowed again and clasped her hands in front of her. The taxi-boat sped off back to shore, and she bent down and gripped the basket handle. Dion’s hand covered hers and he lifted the basket between them. Dion’s palm was warm against her fingers and Morgan stared up at him, into eyes that set her clit to throbbing, and wished, wished…

“Good evening, Morgan.”

His smile, a slight tilt of his head and a wink jellied her knees.

Damn him for making me feel like this when I can’t have him!

“Good evening, Dion. What’s in the basket?”

She began to lift the lid but his free hand pushed hers away, their fingers entwining. Heat rushed to her face and she cursed the telltale stain that would surely alert him to how she felt.

“Oh, just a few things.” He uncurled her fingers from the basket handle.

“Things?” She quirked a brow.

“Yes. Shall we?” He motioned to the steps that led below deck. “Or would you rather play outside tonight?”

Her stomach churned and excitement swirled through her. She glanced around—no other boats in sight—and said, “Oh, outside should be fine. Besides, if anyone approaches, we’ll hear their motor.”

“And if anyone watches us through a telescope, we will be none the wiser.”

Morgan stifled a gasp and Dion laughed, loud and hearty, quelling the momentary flare of panic inside her. She shoved the thought of Peeping Toms from her mind and breathed deeply, willing herself to take command. Without her tools, though, she floundered, hands by her sides.

“I’ll need to go down and get—”

“I told you,” he leaned in and whispered beside her mouth, “I’ve brought some things…in the basket.” He kissed her lower lip.

Startled, she jumped back and a high-pitched “Oh!” escaped her. Dion had never crossed the line before, had never kissed her.

Does that mean…?

“Right,” she said on a ragged sigh, heart skipping a beat, legs lust-addled. “Let’s have a look insi—”

“I rather thought we would reverse roles tonight. I want to take charge.”

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

Debut Day!

Today is my debut with Ellora’s Cave (too exciting!) and I’m typing this with a hair dye on my head. Oh yes, I could have done a number of more exotic things to celebrate, but to be honest, when I woke I got a case of the jitters. I’m a multi-published author in other pen names, but this name is special to me because, well, she just is. Also, being with Ellora’s was a long-time dream of mine, and to know my first book is out today is a little overwhelming. Okay, I’ll admit I cried this morning, then took myself off to a friend’s house to take my mind off the release.

So, my daughter just said, “Why’s your hair going purple?”

Purple? It’s meant to be burgundy. I looked in the mirror, and sure enough it looks a tad purple. No matter. So long as it covers the grey streak I don’t care. What’s a bit of purple among friends? And that grey streak down my parting had become so unsightly… I read the instructions to see how long I needed to keep the dye on for. It said: If they grey is abundant…

Cheeky buggers! How did they know? And yes, it’s abundant all right. And the dye is burning my head. I can only hope my hair doesn’t fall out. Now wouldn’t that be something to remember this day by?

“How did your release day go, Nat?”

“Great! I went bald!”

If you buy Soul Keeper, I really hope you enjoy it. Two more of my books are coming soon—Magenta Starling (novella) and His Beautiful Wench (novel). My editor is looking at a new novella, Come Find Me, and I’m writing another novel, so hopefully I can give you a range of books to choose from, if you so wish.

Well, I think it might be an idea to see if that abundant grey has disappeared. Though let’s pray the hair hasn’t, eh?

Monday, 24 May 2010

New Release from Tory Richards

Lilly has been in love with her brother’s best friend Blake for years. She lost her virginity to the oil driller on her eighteenth birthday, only to wake the next morning to find him gone. After he pulled that stunt twice more, she swore never to see or talk to him again. But now he’s back for her brother’s wedding, and he’s as irresistible as she remembers.

Blake thinks Lilly’s even sexier than ever. Unable to resist one another, they don’t make it out of the airport parking lot before taking up where they left off. As the two rediscover their passion for each other, nothing and nowhere is off-limits!

Friday, 21 May 2010

New Release for Mari Carr

In high school, Lily was too shy to do anything about her feelings for her best friends, Justin and Killian. Now she’s ready to put to rest her regrets with a proposal that might shock even her oversexed friends—the three of them, together, one night, multiple positions.

K and J are more than a little surprised to see Lily at their ten-year reunion. The plain Jane they remember is now a stunning woman—who wants to have sex with both of them. Who are they to deny her? Even if Killian suspects they might be treading on dangerous emotional territory.

The night stretches into the weekend and, as K suspected, none of them want it to end. But he and Lily know people live in pairs, not trios, and they call a halt now, before it’s too late.

Justin, however, knows a good thing when he sees it. He’s ready to fight for what he wants…what they all need. He just has to convince Lilly and Killian that unconventional can also be extraordinary.

Wednesday, 19 May 2010

New at Ellora's Cave!

One kiss was all he wanted. And one kiss was the only thing she denied him.

Dragon shape-shifter Ricardo wakes in a sweat, knowing he has telepathically contacted a woman in trouble. The same trouble he got into a year ago. With the help of STORM, he tracks her, the latest victim of the evil Dr. Bennett.

But Kristen is no pushover. A bodyguard for the first openly Talented senator, Ricardo’s brother Sandro, she’s used to looking after herself and doesn’t wait for someone else to rescue her. She escapes, and Ricardo finds her naked and shivering on a crowded New York street.

Need sparks between them; they can’t resist each other. They set the night on fire and Kristen loves Ricardo’s sizzling passion, even as she resists loving him. But Bennett wants her back…which means the lovers could lose everything.

Cursed with unusual abilities, orphan McKenna Fulton has always been different, an outcast. But she’s been Chosen. More accurately, she is one of the Chosen. Eight individuals—four women and four men—selected at birth to guard slices of crystal. The Heart of Fire.

The whole thing is more than a little farfetched. Kenna can handle the part of getting down and dirty with the bad dude. She’s even okay with guarding a crystal. But losing her free will and being stuck with some guy, her destined mate, uh-uh. Not happening.

Local mechanic Ryker Thomas is more than he appears and has his own set of abilities. Kenna wants nothing to do with the Southern charmer. So what if he has a matching crystal and the damn thing hums and vibrates whenever they’re close together. That doesn’t mean she’ll toe the line.

He can’t be the one she’s supposed to be with. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to send her a cowboy when what she wants is a bad boy.

Monday, 17 May 2010

Another EC Acceptance

I have seen some truly beautiful prose and wished I could write like that. I have been through the self-doubt mill too many times to count, analyzed my many ‘voices’ and tried to capture that something that makes my work unique. I hope I’ve achieved it, but the beauty of writing is that there’s always room for improvement, always something new to learn. It makes this profession interesting, keeps me on my toes, and makes me strive to do better.

I received another acceptance with Ellora’s Cave and, apart from being stupidly excited to the point I felt sick, I was bowled over that my editor likes my work. I’m not complaining, but because I’m so hard on myself it makes it difficult to believe it when a contract is offered. I actually wanted to run around the house screaming, but my poor husband wouldn't have known what to do so I settled for stamping my feet several times on the spot and letting out a pathetic squeak.

I’ve been writing a loooooong time. I’ve had ups and downs, times when I thought I should give up, but something inside pushed me forward to where I wanted to be—Ellora’s Cave. When your dream comes true it’s hard to take in. Surreal, and the term pinching yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming was in effect the day I walked into the Cave. I still can’t believe it. Still can’t get to grips with the fact my debut book comes out this month. Still can’t get over seeing my name and book cover on the Coming Soon page of the place I used to visit with the words: Oh God, I wish my name was there in the author list.

Recently, I visited the site to look at the author list. My name was there, but it was like I looked at someone else’s name. No, my name can’t possibly be there because things like that don’t happen to me. It has, I know that, but when you’ve dreamed of something for so long and you finally get what you’ve wanted, it takes some getting used to.

I used to be scared of EC. Scared of how huge it is, how many authors are there, of the sheer ‘bigness’ of it all. But it isn’t like that at all. Scary, I mean. I wanted to let people know that EC staff are the most kind, polite, lovely bunch of people and submitting to them shouldn’t fill you with dread. Submit. Go for it. If you get an acceptance you’ll be embraced by a fabulous family.

Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Bound by Sunlight by KB Alan

Bound by Sunlight
KB Alan

Kyriana Price has spent nearly a year trapped at her evil day job. And she does mean evil. Her boss is a mage bent on power and lets nothing stand in the way of his quest to gain more of it. When she sees Connul Graysn wielding a flogger at a BDSM club, she formulates an escape plan that will require his considerable skills—as a mage and as a Dom. Going to another mage for help might not be the best plan, but it's the only one she's got, and at this point, she's willing to try just about anything.

The last thing Connul expects when he finds an intruder in his house is that he'll soon have her chained in his bedroom, her lovely body marked by his paddle. But she's begging for his help—how can a gentleman refuse? As they learn to trust each other, he begins to realize that the only thing he's not willing to do for her is let her go.


"You've never been bound?" he asked, picking up the straps of her tank top.

"No." It was more of a breath than a whisper, but he seemed satisfied with her answer. She felt a soft spark against her shoulders and looked down. He'd severed the straps of her top, which were left to dangle above her breasts. Magic. He'd used magic. A tiny niggle of fear tried to work its way through her. He seemed to know and brought his warm hands back to her face, tilting her head up enough that she knew she was supposed to meet his eyes. Why did she find that so difficult? She forced herself to follow his unspoken demand.

"I will not harm you tonight. Not with magic. Not with anything else. I will bring you pain, but only as much as will pleasure you. Do you understand?"

She saw patience and assurance in his eyes, wondered what he saw in hers. Shame washed through her now—that she had come to him so unprepared, unworthy. He shouldn't have to deal with a novice when he was used to those at the club. His fingers on her chin tightened.

"Do you understand?" he asked again.


He knew there was more, she could see it in his face, see him trying to figure it out. As long as he didn't ask, she wouldn't have to admit to her insecurities. He cocked his head as he studied her.

"What distressed you now?"

She wanted to look away. The feeling of easy surrender had vanished. But she had to answer him. Had to keep meeting his eyes. Not just because of the compulsion, but because she had asked for this. Asked him to help her. He deserved to have as much of her courage as she could muster.

"I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this. I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to know what to do. That's what I'm here for. You'll do what I tell you, when I tell you. Won't you?" His voice was hard, uncompromising.


"Then there's nothing for you to fail at. It's my responsibility to make sure this goes right, not yours. Your only responsibility is to tell me if I go too far." He stepped closer, allowing his heat to envelope her. She felt moisture gather in her pussy and it got a little bit harder to draw breath.

"Let's start over." He pulled her chin up higher now that he was closer to her. Her neck ached a little at the strain. It felt…good.

"Do you believe that I won't harm you, even though I have every intention of bringing you pain?"

"Yes." She didn't know why, and it might be foolish, but she believed him. It was the reason she was here.

He rewarded her with a small kiss to her lips. She opened for him but he drew away. She sighed.

"Do you believe that I will bring you pleasure?"


This time he smiled as he kissed her. She tried to chase his lips, but his hands kept her in position.

"Do you understand what you're supposed to do?"

Uh oh. What was she supposed to do? Hadn't he just told her—oh.

"Yes." Another kiss, she wanted another kiss. A real one this time, damn it.

"Tell me."

"Whatever you tell me to do." She parted her lips in preparation. She would have to be fast this time.


No kiss? What was he doing to her?

"And…umm. Oh, and use my safe word if you go too far."

"Good girl." He met her lips with his, but it wasn't gentle this time. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, taking what she had tried to take, giving what she needed. She whimpered when he pulled back.

"Tell me your safe word again."

She didn't want to, didn't want to ever say that word again. He seemed to understand.

"Choose another word. It doesn't need to be that one. Shouldn't be something you don't want to say."

"No, it's all right—"

His fingers tightened against her skin again, reminding her who was in charge. He wasn't asking. He was telling.

"I, maybe…Snowball!" God, all she could come up with was her childhood cat's name. Was he smirking at her? She narrowed her eyes at him but his face had gone expressionless again. He leaned down and gave her another quick kiss. Then he let her go, stepped back, taking his heat with him.

"If you use your safe word, I'll stop what I'm doing so we can talk about it. Don't be afraid to use it, it doesn't mean I'm going to send you away."

She managed to nod her understanding.

"You have a lovely body."

She didn't. Her size eight curves weren't quite proportioned the way she'd like and—

He smacked her ass and she jumped as much as the chains would allow, which wasn't much at all. Why she should be shocked she had no idea, but she looked at him for an explanation.

"You." He put his hands on top of her head then ran them over her face, rubbing her eyebrows, exploring her cheekbones, tickling her ears and caressing her chin.

"Have." Her skin tingled as his hands moved down her neck to her now heaving chest.

"A lovely." His fingers molded to her breasts, giving a sharp, barely painful squeeze before continuing their journey.

"Body." He reversed his hands so that his fingers led the way over the curve of her stomach to the juncture of her thighs. He folded his hands along the curve, careful not to touch the part of her that needed touching the most.

"Oh," she managed to whisper. Her whole body shuddered at his intense look and careful caress. The desire in his words and his eyes did more to relax her than anything else he could have done. She didn't realize how worried she'd been about the fact that by presenting herself to him, rather than having him choose her, she would have a hard time believing he wanted this, even a little bit.

She looked down at her top. He was running a finger down its center, from neck to hem. As his finger slid past, the fabric parted, splitting down the middle. It was almost like a breath of heat, but maybe she was imagining that. It didn't take long for the whole top to fall away.

Her naked breasts were damp with sweat, her nipples somewhat swollen. He ignored them and brought his finger to her pants, performing a similar magic to remove them in less than a minute. He took a step back, observing her dressed only in plain cotton panties. It looked as if he was fighting a smile. She tried not to blush and failed. Why hadn't she dressed up for him? She had the clothes, had been provided with the types of outfits that were supposed to entice him. Black leather, lace garters and more. Much more. It wasn't that she didn't like them, but she would have felt like a spy wearing them, like a fraud. So she'd come in the most Kyriana-like clothes she had.

He walked behind her, hooked a finger in the waistband and snapped the elastic against her skin. It didn't hurt, but it startled her. She hung her head as she tried to fight off the shame and misery working their way through her.

"Just checking to see if your name was embroidered in the back." His teasing words were spoken against her neck. She choked on her laugh as his lips moved down her neck to the top of her spine, where he bit, hard.