Thank you so much for allowing me to crash your blog, Erin!
Are you ready for a Scorching Summer? On June 11th some smokin’ RED HOT Samhain
reads will be released from authors Mari Carr, Erin Nicholas, Harper Fox and
Shelli Stevens, and I’m honored to have my book, Her Grace’s Stable, included in such a fantastic lineup!
What a mix it is, too, offering contemporary to historical
M/M to what I call “A Jane Austen Space Opera.”
Her Grace’s Stable is a crazy
fun mix of steampunk/SF, femdom, MMF ménage, and yes, pony play.
Now don’t be alarmed if pony play isn’t quite your thing. I was scared to death when Arthur showed up
and showed me all the things he wanted…needed…to
explore. The deeper I went into his
fantasy, the hotter it got. He’s not
into humiliation play at all, but is in search of a loving, healing
relationship. He can only find his way
back to humanity by freeing his secret need and embracing his darkest side.
Luckily, Violet, the Black Duchess of the Queen’s Light
Dragoons, knows exactly how to unbridle that wild stallion.
Get your copy of Her
Grace’s Stable at Samhain,
Amazon,
or Barnes
and Noble.
We’re giving away
some incredible prizes including a $50 gift certificate as well as individual
gifts like my Jane Austen Royal Mail stamp set!
Silence is his only defense. But no truth escapes his lady’s whip.
A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 2
Lady Violet Blackmyre, the daring “Black Duchess” of the Queen’s Light Dragoons, never thought she’d die a slow, miserable death. Yet only days after being named Field Marshal of the Britannian Army, she’s been diagnosed with consumption.
Giving Cole, her devoted stable hand and “pony”, his freedom is as easy as removing his collar. Convincing him to seek another mistress will be impossible should he learn of her condition. At all costs, she must spare him the pain of witnessing her demise.
Cole will not be pushed away so easily. When he stumbles across a magnificent “stallion” being abused at an illegal human auction, he is sure this wild, untamed brute is the challenge that will re-engage his mistress’s interest.
Arthur is desperate to return to the Iberian front, but betrayal and relentless torture have left him unable to trust himself with a weapon, much less lead soldiers into battle. What’s more, Lady Blackmyre’s dreadful secret is becoming more obvious by the day…and the scourge tearing at her lungs may not be natural at all.
A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 2
Lady Violet Blackmyre, the daring “Black Duchess” of the Queen’s Light Dragoons, never thought she’d die a slow, miserable death. Yet only days after being named Field Marshal of the Britannian Army, she’s been diagnosed with consumption.
Giving Cole, her devoted stable hand and “pony”, his freedom is as easy as removing his collar. Convincing him to seek another mistress will be impossible should he learn of her condition. At all costs, she must spare him the pain of witnessing her demise.
Cole will not be pushed away so easily. When he stumbles across a magnificent “stallion” being abused at an illegal human auction, he is sure this wild, untamed brute is the challenge that will re-engage his mistress’s interest.
Arthur is desperate to return to the Iberian front, but betrayal and relentless torture have left him unable to trust himself with a weapon, much less lead soldiers into battle. What’s more, Lady Blackmyre’s dreadful secret is becoming more obvious by the day…and the scourge tearing at her lungs may not be natural at all.
Product Warnings
Ladies in positions of power and technological advances invented by the infamous Lady Doctor Wyre. A ménage a trois featuring a brute of a stallion, a mischievous pony, and the Mistress with the will (and the whip) to tame them both.
Excerpt:
Jerking awake in a cold sweat, Arthur seized whoever hovered
nearby and prepared to rip the attacker apart.
“You’re safe,” Cole whispered, albeit raggedly since Arthur
had his throat gripped in his hand. “You’re dreaming.”
If only the past weeks could be just a bad dream. If only he
hadn’t returned to Britannia on a short but necessary leave. If only he hadn’t
admitted his secret desires to anyone. If only…
Releasing Cole was surprisingly difficult. The
non-threatening human contact was warm, safe and comforting like nothing he’d
known in years. Even if from another man.
“Are you in pain?” Cole asked.
He closed his eyes. He hurt all over, but the worst was the
constant throb in his groin that kept him on the knife’s edge of rage every
single waking moment. “No.”
The man smelled faintly of straw and leather, a lingering
testimony to his work in the stable, both as a man and pony. Maybe that’s why he feels so familiar and
safe. I can’t see another pony ever harming me.
The mattress dipped beside him, making him tense. He fisted
his hands, fighting to ignore the fire spreading through his body. I’m a man, not an animal. I can control
myself. I can!
Cole’s palm touched his forehead and cheeks as if he was
searching for a fever. Even such an innocent, nurturing touch made Arthur’s
blood simmer. It’d been too long. After days—weeks?—of torture with sexual
need, he couldn’t ignore the desire pulsing through his body. Sweat poured off
him to soak the sheets. At least it was dark, so the man couldn’t see his
erection. “You do feel warm.”
Arthur bit back an unpleasant laugh. I’m burning up with need, slowly slipping into madness like a rabid
dog. No one’s safe with me. God help me, I’ve killed people with this rage.
That dangerous hand slipped down to touch his chest. “You’re
sweaty.” Fire spread with each touch as Cole touched fingers to his throat.
“And your pulse is rapid. Let me give Dr. Miles a ring—”
Cole started to get up. Without thinking, Arthur seized his
arm and hauled him back down. His bare arm. Muscle moved beneath his palm, warm
and alive. He couldn’t help but remember the damnable pleasure of the man’s
gentle care that first night. Those strong, soothing hands.
He trembled, fighting to keep the tide of lust contained.
Cole might be a man, not a slim slip of a woman like the Duchess, but he was
still smaller. In a fair fight, he wouldn’t have a chance against Arthur. The
memory of pounding with his fists, tearing at his tormenters, the screams, the
vicious need searing his mind, driving him insane…
I can’t risk it. Never
again. I’m too rough, too big, too—
Cole made a low, delicious sound, somewhere between a husky
laugh and a pleased sigh, and it was too much to deny.
Thanks again for having me on your blog, Erin!
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