Re-Awakening by Ashe Barker
Her Master gone, is she destined to spend the rest of her life alone. Or can she bring herself to surrender–again?
Too busy trying to make a living out of her guest house in the Yorkshire Dales, Imogen hadn’t time to be lonely, or even think about having fun. And surrender to her innermost submissive desires is just a distant memory.
A widow for six years, Imogen is not looking for another lover, let alone a Master. She had one of those, once, and no-one could ever compare. Certainly not a handsome, cocky young man, passing through the area and needing a room for the weekend.
But when sexy Zack Latimer turns up on her doorstep he instantly recognises the underlying grief cocooning Imogen from the world outside. The intuitive young Dom makes himself at home in her house, and quickly exposes her most private needs and fears. He sees straight through her facade of self-sufficiency to expose the yearning she tries so hard to stifle. Unable to deny or resist the intense attraction she feels for her sensual guest, Imogen is quickly drawn in as he invites her to rediscover her submissive nature. Can she surrender once more, perhaps even find happiness and fulfilment again with a new Master?
And is Zack that Master, or has he also gone for good?
Maestro by Elizabeth Coldwell
She admires his dominance on stage, but does Jax have the courage to let this gorgeous young opera singer dominate her in the bedroom?
Opera is Jaclyn ‘Jax’ Wiltshire’s great passion, and she loves her job as chief costume designer for the prestigious London Opera Company. However, at 40 she’s still single, and she can’t help but envy her best friend Helen’s happy home life with her husband and children. Jaclyn’s world is turned on its head when world-renowned tenor Kieran Vale arrives at the opera house. The company’s artistic director sees the chance to stage a production he hopes will be talked about for years, with a scene that requires Kieran to strip naked on stage.
The handsome, demanding Kieran is very comfortable in his own skin, and when Jax begins to fit him for costumes, she realises what a great body he has, and how attracted she is to him. Kieran enjoys flirting with her. Their teasing develops into something more intimate as she begins to realise he has a distinctly dominant side. But she can’t really believe that a man eleven years her junior could be seriously interested in her?
Kieran makes it clear to Jax he needs a woman who will submit to him. With a fiery leading lady who has the hots for Kieran waiting in the wings, can Jax find the courage to let her guard down and allow this gorgeous Dom to make her his?
Raspberries and Wine by Ayla Ruse
When Stacy opens her door on Valentine’s Day, it’s not to the man she expected, but to the man who’ll give her what she needs.
It’s Valentine’s day and newly liberated divorcee Stacy Dalton has a plan: seduce her former classmate and end the post-divorce intimacy drought. She’s cooked a meal, she’s dressed to the nines, and she is crossing her fingers that tonight she will not go to bed alone. There is a slight hiccup in the plan when it’s not her former classmate that shows up with an easy smile and a hungry look--but his drop-dead gorgeous son.
Twenty-nine year old Graham Rosen has always been attracted to older women. So making last-minute plans to take out his father’s cancelled date seems an effortless and enjoyable task--especially when he sees the sable-haired beauty who opens the door. Unfortunately, Stacy seems hung up on their age. Even after giving in to Graham’s erotic attentions, the beautiful cook refuses to acknowledge any possible future to their relationship.
Some women need a strong man--with an even stronger hand. Graham is no mere boy to shy away from a challenge and he is more than willing to show Stacy he’s serious about his desire for her beyond just one lustful night. But will his erotic discipline succeed in dissolving Stacy’s hesitations and bring her closer to him? Or will it scare her away?
Reader Advisory: These books contain scenes of dominance and submission, including the use of sex toys, pain play, anal play, and restraints. There are scenes of sex in semi-public places.
General Release Date: 2nd February 2021
Excerpt from Re-Awakening
As the car pulled out of her driveway, Imogen flicked over the ‘Vacancies’ sign in her street-level window to indicate that she once again had space for a weary traveller or two. It was February, definitely the quiet season in the Yorkshire Dales, but there was always the possibility of passing trade. A stray hiker or maybe a die-hard Three Peaker who didn’t mind the rain and the fog and the probability of being cut off for days by sudden snow. And she had to face it, she needed the business. After Easter things would pick up, always did, but until then…
Imogen’s little guest house was situated in the hamlet of Countersett, close to Bainbridge, in the heart of the Dales. The perfect getaway for intrepid outdoorsy souls or those seeking solitude and inspiration. All Imogen was seeking was a decent living, but every year that seemed more and more difficult to achieve. Foot and Mouth hadn’t helped, but that was years ago now. These days it was the recession, and ever more severe weather that reduced the once steady flow of hungry, tired tourists to a meagre trickle. The family whose tail lights were now disappearing around the bend in her lane had been her first customers this week, though between the five of them they’d occupied all three of her available guest rooms, so she’d been glad enough to see them. Imogen had a sinking suspicion they might be her last. She had no more bookings for ten days, and meanwhile she had electricity to pay for, she badly needed to order a new load of logs, and her washing machine was on its last legs.
She saw no alternative if she wanted to carry on basking in such luxuries as light and heat. She needed a job. Anything would do, as long as it brought in a steady wage, and left her free in the mornings to dish up hearty breakfasts to any guests she might just manage to drag in off the fells. Sighing, reluctant to compromise on her dream of running a successful country guest house, but at heart a pragmatist, Imogen headed into her large kitchen to fire up her laptop. She Googled ‘temps in North Yorkshire’ and sat back to see what emerged.
An hour and a half later, Imogen had managed to register with three temp agencies. She’d possibly been a little overenthusiastic regarding her range of skills, but needs must. She had to get in the door, get in front of some prospective employer at an interview, then, maybe, she could sell herself. She was personable enough, if unremarkable in her appearance. She would never see her forty-second birthday again, but Imogen knew she looked no older than thirty five. Small and slim, she was always on the move, always bustling around, always busy. She kept herself fit, loved walking and cycling and chose not to own a car. Well, she might choose to own one if business ever picked up enough. Pedal power was cheaper, though. Shoulder-length ash-blonde hair—these days helped along by regular visits to a salon in Skipton—and a deft hand with cosmetics meant she could look decent. Presentable even. Add to that honesty, trustworthiness, reliability, reasonably literate. And she was definitely good with money despite having none to speak of. She could do shop work for sure, and would probably manage okay in an office, at a pinch. She wasn’t going to win any prizes for accurate typing, but she could find her way around a spreadsheet. Oh yes, she was definitely employable. Now all she had to do was convince someone who could offer her a job.
Excerpt from Maestro
Mercury, the messenger of the gods, stood basking in the afternoon sunshine. His broad, bare chest gleamed with sweat, and his winged sandals were laced all the way up his muscular calves. Seemingly lost in thought, he nonetheless turned his head at my approach.
“Hey, Jax, pet. How’s it going?”
Any illusion of his actual divinity that hadn’t already been dispelled by the cigarette he held between his fingers was shattered by his ringing Geordie accent.
“I’m fine, Richie. Looking good by the way.” My gaze lingered on his pleated leather kilt. It had taken a couple of nights’ hard work in my studio to stitch the thing together, but the result, even at close range, was pleasingly authentic. So was his staff, adorned with a pair of writhing snakes, that had been manufactured out of wood and plastic. For anyone sitting high in the circle, or at the back of the stalls, Richie Beresford would truly appear godlike.
He flashed me a smile, clearly appreciating the compliment. “Hey, I heard that Marshall’s going to be announcing who’s got the lead in Perpetua today. Rumour is it’s Kieran Vale.”
“Really?” I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice. Marshall Wincott had promised a big name for what would be the centrepiece of the London Opera Company’s two hundred and fiftieth season. Announcing that he would be performing Giuseppi dalla Bonna’s masterpiece Perpetua, a work that had fallen out of favour due to its notorious difficulty to bring to the stage, had already raised eyebrows in critical circles. Securing Kieran Vale, currently the hottest property in opera, to play the leading role would be a real coup.
“Well, I’d better be off.” Richie ground out his cigarette beneath his sandaled heel. “I’m due to make my curtain call.”
He dashed off, not quite reaching Mercury’s superhuman speed, in the direction of the backstage area. Being late for a cue was the surest way to earn the full hairdryer blast of one of Marshall Wincott’s dressing-downs, and Richie clearly didn’t want to risk that. More sedately, I headed for the costume department, clutching a ham salad sandwich and pot of fruit compote and yoghurt that formed a very late lunch. With all the costume changes for today’s matinee performance of Francesco Cavalli’s La Calisto completed, I’d at last been able to nip out for something to eat.
Excerpt from Strawberries and Wine
“Hold on, I’ll be right there,” Stacy Dalton called out when her doorbell rang. “Good Lord,” she muttered, snagging her heel on a throw rug, “he’s early.”
She double-checked the little details as she hurried to the front door. “Dining room table set, check. Dinner almost ready, check. Wine out, check. Dress, hair and make-up…” She trailed off as she inspected herself in the hall mirror. “Check. Well,” she whispered to her reflection, “here goes nothing.”
She opened the door and her smile froze. Damn, he’s not early after all. It’s not even him.
“Um, hi? Can I help you?” she asked the young man at her doorstep. She peered over his wide shoulder to see if Martin had pulled up yet.
“I hope so,” he said, his deep voice instantly capturing her attention. “Are you Stacy Dalton?”
She paused and gave him a more thorough inspection. He stood tall, maybe six feet, and wore an expensive suit. His short dark brown hair was neatly styled, but it was his eyes, deep hazel and intense, that held her attention once she stopped looking all over the place. Captivating. He smiled then, and she thought she might melt. She trailed her gaze over him again and blushed when he cocked a smooth brow.
“I am,” she finally answered.
He held out his hand, and she gave him hers, momentarily surprised by the kiss he placed on the backs of her fingers. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Graham Rosen. Martin Rosen’s son.”
“Oh,” she sighed, then registered what he’d said. “Oh! Oh, please come in.” She wondered what had happened.
He stepped over the threshold and she closed the door, turning at the same time as Graham.
“How is your dad? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, but didn’t you get his message?”
She shook her head, confused.
“My dad sent his regrets. He… Well, he apparently ran into my mother yesterday. They’ve been divorced for several years, but it seems like they hit it off again. He went to the mountains with her today. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”
Elizabeth Coldwell
Elizabeth Coldwell is a multi-published author and editor whose stories have appeared in a number of best-selling anthologies. She has written novels in a variety of different genres, from paranormal to BDSM and contemporary romance. She is the former editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine and the proud winner of an International Leather Award. When she is not busy writing, she is an avid supporter of Rotherham United Football Club and can be regularly found on the terraces at weekends, cheering her boys to victory (hopefully!).
Find her online at The (Really) Naughty Corner, http://elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com
Ayla Ruse
Handed a historical romance at the age of twelve, Ayla Ruse fell in love with love and with happy endings. Having grown up living life tasting a little of this and a little of that has not changed this attitude, but it's expanded her views. Love isn't always happy and it isn't always the way a person ?thinks it should be.? Sometimes it's outside the box, and it's always a challenge.
The challenge of finding and holding onto this love is what drives Ayla in her fiction. She likes stories that strip love ? among other things - down to the skin and tests the attachment and beliefs of the participants. Sometimes that test can come in the form of multiple partners, overcoming a desperate fear or even being sexually inventive.
Ashe Barker
Until 2010, Ashe was a director of a regeneration company before deciding there had to be more to life and leaving to pursue a lifetime goal of self-employment.
Ashe has been an avid reader of women's fiction for many years—erotic, historical, contemporary, fantasy, romance—you name it, as long as it's written by women, for women. Now, at last in control of her own time and working from her home in rural West Yorkshire, she has been able to realise her dream of writing erotic romance herself.
She draws on settings and anecdotes from her previous and current experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters, but her stories of love, challenge, resilience and compassion are the conjurings of her own imagination. She loves to craft strong, enigmatic men and bright, sassy women to give them a hard time—in every sense of the word.
When she's not writing, Ashe's time is divided between her role as resident taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, cats, rabbits, tortoises and a hamster.
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