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Blogger Appreciation Giveaway

 

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The super talented Skye Callahan and Gemma James put their heads together and decided to organize a giveaway for bloggers. That’s right, we’re talking about you guys who tirelessly promote us authors. We wanted to show our gratitude for all you do, for your enthusiasm of all things books, and for being all-around great people in this amazing community.

We got together with a group of authors and put together five prize packs, all including signed paperbacks, gift cards, and swag. The best part? The giveaway is open Internationally, so no matter where you live, every book blogger has the opportunity to enter!

This is our way of saying THANK YOU!!!

And, to give a shout out to the authors who donated to the giveaway, we’ve created a Listmania! on Amazon highlighting some of their books. If you have a moment, be sure to take a look!

Below you’ll find five separate Rafflecopters. There are no strings attached. Every blogger gets one free entry just by entering the URL of their blog. You can also earn extra entries by tweeting about the giveaway. Good luck, all!

 

 PRIZE PACK 1

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FREE: Baumgartners Plus One + HUGE Giveaway – $300 Amazon Gift Cards!

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The Baumgartners Plus One

FREE on AMAZON

When Danielle Stuart meets the Baumgartners, her life doesn’t need to get any more complicated. Studying Italian on scholarship at the University of Michigan, Dani is haunted by a horrible tragedy that her husband, Mason, simply can’t come to terms with. But when she meets Carrie Baumgartner, and then her handsome husband, Doc, she finds her attraction to the couple irresistible, no matter how complicated things might get. While the two women bond over being childless and yet surrounded by children in the university’s married housing complex, it’s Doc Baumgartner who really brings them together with a game-changing idea that serves to reshape all of their lives.

Warnings: This title contains erotic situations and graphic language, and makes mention of porn, strippers, high heels, snow angels, wishbones, micro bikinis, white hot sand, Victoria’s Secret,birth control, mittens, kitty cats, margaritas and various other alcoholic beverages, plus a plethora of sex including girl on girl, anal sex and a (mff) threesome in true Selena Kitt style.

RAVE REVIEWS FOR THE BAUMGARTNERS PLUS ONE

Black Raven, BlackRaven’s Reviews, 5/5 RAVENS – RECOMMENDED READ

“Ms. Kitt continues to amaze me with the depth that she brings to this series… I read this story in one sitting. If you’re looking for a captivating story, full of heart, laughter, and joy, with sex scenes that are guaranteed to keep you wet and wanton throughout the story, then The Baumgartners Plus One is definitely the book to read.”

Isis, Sizzling Hot Reads

“… a lot of graphically erotic scenes that tantalize your senses. The Baumgartners Plus One is a steamy erotic romance… a really good story about friendship and love. It is filled with many great sex scenes… It is the perfect erotic read.”

KB, Dark Diva Reviews, 4/5 Divas!

… sinfully sexy… a delightful addition to the Baumgartner line… Selena Kitt is one of my guilty pleasures, and I highly recommend she become one of yours too.”

Some Like It Hot Erotic Novel Reviews

“[T]his is the prequel to the scorchers Babysitting the Baumgartners and Meet the Baumgartners. And what a suitable addition to the set this turned out to be… This story works because it’s both a good mix of fantasy and reality… Selena Kitt kept me engaged in the story beyond the sex…”

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EXCERPT:

I met the Baumgartners because, as my mother was too fond of saying, “Danielle is nosier than a cat in a tuna fish factory.” Maybe that was true and maybe it wasn’t. But what was I supposed to do when someone started sunbathing nude right outside my back door—just close the blinds?

Besides, a fully-clothed Carrie Baumgartner would have been pretty hard to ignore, let alone a topless, unbelievably bronze one, completely covered in coconut-scented oil. The stuff was so strong I could smell it from the window.

Maybe if I’d been a prude, or if I’d had kids like everyone else in University of Michigan married housing, or if Carrie had been just a little less attractive in her black bikini bottoms, I might have called campus security like a good girl. But I didn’t.

Instead, I was a very bad girl. I knelt up on my bed—our bed still, not that Mason came home to it much anymore—and peeked around the white sheet I’d tacked to the wall as a curtain when we moved in. According to our lease, we were supposed to cover our windows, and I’d just never gotten around to buying blinds. Besides, I didn’t know how to hang them, and I couldn’t rely on Mason for much of anything.

Our backyards were tiny little postage stamps and only semi-private. There was a black wooden head-high sort of half-fence at the end of all of the apartment yards, but instead of a divider between each, there was only a divider between every two, as if the apartments had been meant to connect at some point. The Baumgartner’s yard and ours meshed together and while the blue and yellow U of M blanket was spread out on their side, I could still see everything from my vantage point. And I mean everything.

I watched her drizzle oil over the copper colored flesh of her belly, her hands kneading it over the sloping curve of her ribs and onto the generous swell of her breasts, brazenly bared to the sun. I stayed quiet, swallowing my breath, as her palms made slow, lazy circles over her nipples and then dipped gently into the hollow of her throat, her slender, oily fingers stroking her neck down to her collarbone.

I heard her sigh, saw her hips shift as her hands moved back downward once again, lingering on the fullness of her breasts. She was so beautiful I could barely breathe, her honey-colored hair like spun gold against the navy blue blanket, her limbs long and shapely. I bit my lip when I saw her pinch her nipples, hearing her again, a soft cry.

I ducked down when she sat up on her elbows, sliding the dark glasses she wore down so she could look around. It was nearly noon on a Monday, the late August sun high and bright, still hot although it was moving steadily toward autumn now. The kids were back in school just this week, the neighborhood quieter than it had been all summer.

She glanced around and thought she was alone. She didn’t see me watching from the window as she slid her oily hand down the flat, sloping surface of her belly and under the elastic band of her black bikini bottoms. At first, I thought she was going to take those off too, but when her hand moved under them, fully between her legs, I understood.

And I watched, breathless, as she began to touch herself. I looked around, worried she might get caught, that someone might walk by. Our apartments backed up to a small, wooded area. The kids liked to play there, but today there were no calls of “You’re it!”, no one fighting over the tire swing someone had hung on a tree back there.

We were alone, she and I, two women longing for something, looking to ease a throbbing ache. I should have just turned away and gone back to studying my Italian phrasing, which is what I’d been doing before I heard the sound of her back door opening and closing, that tell-tale squeak and bang. But, as my mother would also attest to, I rarely did the things I should do in life. Instead, I usually did the things people told me I shouldn’t, and more importantly, I did the things I wanted to do.

And I wanted to watch. I was wearing jeans, too confining, but they were quickly unbuttoned and unzipped. I sought my own heat, my pussy moist, still shaved smooth the way Mason liked it. God, how long had it been since he’d touched me? I shoved that dark thought away and turned my attention to the luminous sight of the woman writhing on the lawn next door, taking her own unabashed pleasure.

Her hand moved rhythmically under the stretched crotch of her bikini bottoms, her face turned toward me. The dark sunglasses she wore kept her eyes from me, but I saw the part of her lips, the way the pink tip of her tongue slipped out and licked them. Her chest moved with her increasing breath, her breasts rising and falling, faster and faster.

My clit hid, untouched for so long, in the swollen folds of my flesh, but I managed to find it, shuddering at the sudden sensation, as if I had an instant “on” switch I’d just rediscovered. I teased it to life, back and forth, round and round, my breath coming faster, my nipples hard under my t-shirt as I pressed close to the wall, straining to see out the window.

The blond on the blanket flicked and tugged at her own nipples. They were brown and hard, like my own, although I was far more pale than she was, her breasts a little bigger. We were both pretty well-endowed in that department though, and I cupped my breast though my bra with my other hand, rubbing my thumb over the ridge of my nipple, feeling the weight of it, wondering what her breast would feel like in my hand—heavy, oily, fleshy.

It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d been with a woman. Before Mason, I’d been with Dee. My mother insisted I was “going through a phase,” and when Dee and I broke up in the midst of a huge drama over, what else, some guy, my mother said I’d proven her right, that I wasn’t a lesbian after all. I didn’t know what I was—I just knew that women turned me on and men turned me on, and maybe aliens would turn me on, too, but I’d never met one. Maybe I was just greedy, insatiable. I had always wanted more than the world could ever give me.

“Ohhhh!” The soft cry that rose up from her throat drew my attention back to the spectacle next door. She was biting her lip, her tanned thighs spread and shining with oil, glistening in the sunlight. I wished then that she had taken her bottoms off too so I could watch her fingers plunging into her pussy, as fast and furious as my own, wishing for a cock, a tongue, something, everything at once.

I arched my back and rocked up and down, back and forth, riding my own hand, my nipples rubbing hard against the windowsill, forgetting myself, forgetting that I was supposed to stay quiet, unnoticed. I pressed my nose to the screen, catching the scent of fresh cut grass and coconut oil, imagining that I could smell her too, the pungent aroma of her pussy. Was she shaved, like me? Was she blond down there or dark, I wondered? Just thinking about it was so exciting I had to slow down or I was going to climax right that second, and I wanted to wait.

I wanted to come with her.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” She gasped and gave three short, sharp cries, her hips thrusting upward, her thighs butterflied wide, one hand rubbing herself frantically, the other clutching her breast, tweaking her nipple. The sight of her was enthralling, but it was the low, throaty growl she finally gave and the way her head thrashed from side to side as she came that finally sent me soaring.

I didn’t just fall, I leapt, moaning and thrusting and diving headlong into the precipice, that same delicious edge I’d been flirting with and yet trying to avoid since the moment I unzipped my jeans. I came so hard I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I didn’t let myself go—there was no choice involved—I simply went, plunging headlong into pleasure.

And that’s when the screen fell out of the window.

I’d been pressing on it so hard, it was no wonder. The springs that held it in just gave way and if I hadn’t caught myself, I would have fallen too. It wasn’t a high fall, but it would have been an embarrassing one, considering that my hand was still plunged into the front of my unzipped jeans. It was embarrassing enough as it was as Carrie scrambled to grab her bikini top, tying it quickly on, and I zipped and tucked and yelled out some sort of apology across the yard.

It was Jezebel who gave me an excuse. I used her wanton lust to defend my own, claiming that it was our cat who had knocked out the screen. She’d been sitting quietly next to me on the sill the whole while, occasionally licking a fat, black paw and rubbing it over one velvety ear, the only other witness to our sin. Jezebel looked askance at me when I offered her up as a sacrifice, her expression even more indignant than usual.

“It should just pop right back in.” The blond walked across her yard and into mine, bending down to pick up the screen. “I’ve knocked ours out a couple times.”

“Thanks.” I took it awkwardly, shoving the sheet-curtain aside as I brought it through the window and dropped it next to the bed. As the screen passed between us, our hands touched—hers oily and smelling of coconut and mine still wet with my juices—and she smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“I was just working on my tan.” She glanced over to the blanket she’d been touching herself on and then looked back at me. Did she know I’d been watching? “Want to join me?”

“I—” I searched for some excuse. I didn’t want to embarrass myself any further. “I don’t own a bikini.”

“You can borrow one of mine, if you want. I was only wearing half of one anyway.” She grinned, adjusting her bikini top. She didn’t even flush—but I did. “I’m Carrie Baumgartner, by the way. Nice to meet you, neighbor.”

“Danielle Stuart.” I replied. “They call me Dani.”

“Come on, Dani.” She waved me out, as if the decision had already been made. “Let’s get some sun together.”

And that was how it began.

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Blog Hop: Provocative Paranormal Publications – Howling Good!

 Join us for a little Halloween fun in the Fright Night blog hop! Stop by each blog to check out their favorite paranormal or spooky reads and enter their giveaways!
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It’s that time of year – when you start craving the paranormal like zombies love brains! :D

This is the hottest, most provocative paranormal publication you’ll find this season -

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT by Selena Kitt

It’s Outlander meets True Blood – Wolf Shifters in Kilts

Does it get any better than that?

Oh wait, it does – it’s just $0.99 for a limited time!

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180+ Reviews

4.8 Star Average

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BARNES & NOBLE
APPLE
KOBO

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180+ Reviews

4.8 Star Average

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BARNES & NOBLE
APPLE
KOBO

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT by Selena Kitt

Sibyl Blackthorne isn’t afraid of anything—except maybe being sold into marriage to a man she doesn’t love. A man she’s never even met. A man who, by reputation, is one of Scotland’s cruelest lairds in over a century.

But what choice does she have, with her father dead and her uncle now married to his brother’s widow, putting him in charge of not only the Blackthorne fortune, but Sibyl’s future as well?

Then her betrothed turns out to actually be far worse than his reputation, so headstrong Sibyl decides life as a peasant, or even death, would be preferable to a future with such a despicable man, and makes plans to run away.

On an organized hunt for wolves—or, as the Scots call them, wulvers—Sybil escapes her fiancé’s clutches, only to find she’s run into something far more untamed and dangerous in the middle of the woods.

When a big, brawny, long-haired man, who only speaks to her in Gaelic and calls himself Raife, simply picks her up and carries her off with him into the Scottish wild, Sibyl knows she’s in trouble.

When he takes her to a place no human has ever been, she knows she’s gone over the edge.

And when he, at last, marks her as his own, she discovers that only one wild heart can claim another.

EXCERPT:

“What are you doing?” Sibyl protested, but barely had time to get the words out before the big man had divested her of her weapon and had thrown her over his shoulder and began carrying her downstream. “Stop! Let me go!”

Her words were lost in the rush of the water and he didn’t seem to hear her at all as he moved quickly—much faster and more nimbly than she expected of a man of his size—down the shoreline. She beat at his back with her fists, but he didn’t seem to notice that either, and before long, her hands ached. It was like hitting a slab of rock. When he stopped, she lifted her head to look around, noting their position, away from the protection of the tree line now.

And then she heard it. Could he really have detected the sound, so far away? The dogs were barking again. On the hunt. She imagined Alistair telling the story to his men, making up something so he, of course, looked like the wounded hero. Perhaps he would tell them she had been kidnapped by the massive brute who now had her thrown over his shoulder—and really, was that far from the truth? She knew he wouldn’t tell them she had put an arrow through him. That much he would leave out, she was sure. She hoped.

“They’re coming!” she hissed, beating at the human rock’s back again. She hit him in the side, eliciting a satisfying grunt from the man, and did it again, pleased when she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Let me go! They’re coming for me!”

“Bidh modhail!” he snapped, his hand coming down hard on her behind. Sibyl hadn’t been spanked since she was a child and, while it really didn’t hurt, given how much padding she had on under her skirts, the humiliation of it reddened her cheeks and made her instantly quiet.

And then they were flying.

It wasn’t really flying, but it felt that way. He was so agile, so quick and light on his feet, it felt as if he had simply taken flight as they crossed the stream. Behind them, the dogs grew closer. They were onto a scent—likely her own and she cursed herself for not grabbing her hat, which would allow the dogs to pick up her trail—and pursued it with fervor. Sibyl bounced on the big man’s shoulder, squealing at one point, thinking surely he would fall and she would go tumbling head-first to her death onto the slippery, moss-covered rocks, but then they were across, heading into the cover of the woods on the other side.

Once they were a sight distance from the tree line, the man upended her with a grunt, putting her back onto her feet. Sibyl pushed an already tangled mass of auburn hair away from her face and glared up at him. He didn’t smile, but his eyes danced, clearly amused at her stance—hands on her hips, face upturned—and the words that came tumbling out of her mouth.

“You bumbling idiot! You could have killed us both!” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for your help. Do you understand me? I don’t want your help! No! Go! Away with you!”

She shooed him away like an annoying fly but the man didn’t move. He just looked down at her with those devilish blue eyes.

“Goodbye! Mar sin leibh!” She didn’t know many phrases in Scottish Gaelic, but she had learned a few from Moira. Hello, goodbye, please and thank you. So she said the words, hoping he would understand, and from the look on his face, it was clear he got her meaning. “I’m going! Mar sin leibh! Goodbye!”

She turned and stalked off, getting as far as the nearest tree before he grabbed her again.

“Will you stop that?” she cried, pushing at his arms as they encircled her and turned her to him. “No! Chan eil! Chan eil!”

She repeated the Gaelic word for no, seeing the frown on his face at her protest.

“Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

“Chan eil,” she objected again, but this time, the word came out in a mere whisper. “No… please…”

“Tha.” His thumb traced her jawline as he looked down at her, the sunlight dappled across his face and chest. She knew the word—tha. Yes. It meant “yes.” Sibyl felt her breath quicken as the stranger traced her lips with one finger, his gaze falling to her mouth, then to her throat, then further down still, to the way her breasts nearly overflowed the top of her disheveled dress.

“Tha,” he said again, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. So blue. His eyes were so blue. “Yes.”

“You… you speak English?” she whispered, cocking her head at him in wonder. “Who… who are you?”

highlandwolfpactMED

180+ Reviews

4.8 Star Average

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BARNES & NOBLE
APPLE
KOBO

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT by Selena Kitt

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HALLOWEEN FREEBIE!

October 31, 2014

Bookmark this post and set a reminder to come back on Halloween to get this FREEBIE!

SOMETHING WICKED

The brightest lights cast the deepest shadows. Our eXcessica authors have reached into the darkest reaches of their writer’s hearts to offer you erotic horror stories that will steal you–heart, body and soul!

Stories included by: Selena Kitt, Roxanne Rhoads, Jim Baker, G.R. Richards, D.B. Story, Piers Anthony, Sam Kepfield, Jack Osprey, J.L. Dillard, Jennifer Campbell and M.E. Hydra

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Hachette Authors Cry Censorship – Welcome to My World!

92583Hachette authors are crying “censorship!”

Ursula K. Le Guin has been quoted as saying, “We’re talking about censorship: deliberately making a book hard or impossible to get, ‘disappearing’ an author.”

Welcome to my world, Ms. Le Guin. Were you among the authors who, years ago when Amazon started banning erotica, slapping on the adult filter, making it generally difficult to find, who said, “Hey, listen, you whiners! Amazon is a corporation! Amazon can do what they want! It’s THEIR store! If they don’t want this filth on their site, then more power to them!” I hope you weren’t. Because that would make you an awful hypocrite right now.

And honestly, Ms. Le Guin, you haven’t seen anything yet. You have NO idea what Amazon can do to you and your book(s) to kill your sales. You’re only getting a tiny little taste of what’s possible. You should see what it’s like from over here, in the erotica red light district, where we’re stomped on daily, for no reason whatsoever. Our books our disappeared, our accounts are blocked and banned. Have you ever been making $30,000 a month on Amazon, only to see that dry up practically overnight? I know erotica authors this has happened to. Have you ever released a book, had it hit Amazon’s top 10, only to have it blocked, with no reason given other than it violates some vague Amazon guideline? I know erotica authors who have had to deal with that too.

Honestly, Ms. Le Guin, and all the rest of the Hachette authors, I get it. It royally sucks when Amazon decides to bring its jackboot down on your neck. I’ve been there, done that – have been doing it for the past five years, thank you very much. This is why I cried “censorship!” back then. This is why I tried to get other authors to rally around erotica authors and their books. But do you know what I got? Crickets. Either that, or I heard, “Stop whining, Amazon is a corporation and can do what they want! It isn’t censorship unless the government is doing it, so shut up!”

Well guess what? Here it is, five years later, and Amazon is now turning the tables on traditionally published authors. They’re taking away all the fancy bells and whistles you’re used to getting because you publish with legacy. Trust me when I tell you that I’m tempted to just laugh in your face. Or to say, “I told you so!” But I know what that’s like. I know what it’s like to be beaten down time and again, with no recourse, no way to fight back. You can make all the petitions you like. You can even get Stephen King and James Patterson to appeal to the mass media. But you aren’t going to win.

How do I know? Because I’ve lived under Amazon’s regime and have been subject to their thug tactics a lot longer than you have.

The reality of this fight is that Hachette is going to have to adapt or die. And I’m afraid they’re heading for the latter. Instead of screaming at Amazon – which isn’t going to do you any good and is only going to make you hoarse – I am going to tell you, from a very long, arduous experience with Amazon’s stronghold on the market, that you’d better do the same, authors. Adapt or die. Erotic writers have had to do a LOT of adapting in the past five years, and I imagine we’ll have to do a lot more in the future. But that’s part of the business. We’re used to it. We know that Amazon is a retailer, they’re out to make money, and we’re simply a means to their end. And the fact is, we’re replaceable. And, Ms. Le Guin (and all the other Hachette authors) SO. ARE. YOU.

Don’t think for a minute that because you’ve sold X amount of books, Amazon cares about you. In the end, you’re expendable, and if you (or your publishing company) don’t want to sell books to Amazon on Amazon’s terms, well – there are plenty of authors lined up behind you who will. Books aren’t “special” simply because they’re books. And you aren’t special simply because you write them. Trust me when I tell you that there are plenty of talented people in the world who can write books. And many of them are leaner, hungrier and smarter than you are. Many of them have already begun self-publishing and making a name for themselves as the higher echeleon of legacy publishing crumbles.

So my advice to you, Hachette authors, coming from someone who has had Amazon’s hand around my throat more than once — is adapt or die. You can cry censorship all you like – I have, and will continue to do so. You can stomp your foot and say, “It’s not fair!” And you’re right, it isn’t. But life isn’t fair. That’s one of the first things we learn, right? Complaining about Amazon’s tactics, signing petitions, it’s all well and good, but it’s not going to change anything.

The fact remains that the face of publishing is changing. The writing is on the wall – and it’s about time you started reading it and paying attention to it, instead of trying to run from it.

Adapt or die, authors. Your mommy publisher isn’t going to do it for you.



Selena Kitt
Erotic Fiction You Won’t Forget
www.selenakitt.com
LATEST RELEASE: Highland Wolf Pact
180+ Amazon Reviews – 4.8 Stars!
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NEW RELEASE + GIVEAWAY: Highland Wolf Pact – Outlander Meets True Blood!

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT

SCROLL DOWN for BIG GIVEAWAY!

$300 in Amazon Gift Cards!

100+ Reviews

4.8 Star Average

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT

AMAZON
BARNES & NOBLE
GOODREADS
APPLE
KOBO

Outlander Meets True Blood

If I could explain this book with random, completely stolen pictures from the Interwebs, it would look like this:

highlander7

 

highlander13

highlander3

highlander14

highlander1

highlander12

highlander5

highlander15

highlander2

 

Because SHIFTERS, YO! 

highlandwolfpactMED

BOOK DESCRIPTION

100+ Reviews

4.8 Star Average

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT

AMAZON
BARNES & NOBLE
GOODREADS
APPLE
KOBO

Sibyl Blackthorne isn’t afraid of anything—except maybe being sold into marriage to a man she doesn’t love. A man she’s never even met. A man who, by reputation, is one of Scotland’s cruelest lairds in over a century.

But what choice does she have, with her father dead and her uncle now married to his brother’s widow, putting him in charge of not only the Blackthorne fortune, but Sibyl’s future as well?

Then her betrothed turns out to actually be far worse than his reputation, so headstrong Sibyl decides life as a peasant, or even death, would be preferable to a future with such a despicable man, and makes plans to run away.

On an organized hunt for wolves—or, as the Scots call them, wulvers—Sybil escapes her fiancé’s clutches, only to find she’s run into something far more untamed and dangerous in the middle of the woods.

When a big, brawny, long-haired man, who only speaks to her in Gaelic and calls himself Raife, simply picks her up and carries her off with him into the Scottish wild, Sibyl knows she’s in trouble.

When he takes her to a place no human has ever been, she knows she’s gone over the edge.

And when he, at last, marks her as his own, she discovers that only one wild heart can claim another.

Psssst: If you read this in a boxed set – this version contains 10K words of BRAND NEW material AND a BONUS epilogue and preview chapter of the upcoming SEQUEL!

EXCERPT:

“What are you doing?” Sibyl protested, but barely had time to get the words out before the big man had divested her of her weapon and had thrown her over his shoulder and began carrying her downstream. “Stop! Let me go!”

Her words were lost in the rush of the water and he didn’t seem to hear her at all as he moved quickly—much faster and more nimbly than she expected of a man of his size—down the shoreline. She beat at his back with her fists, but he didn’t seem to notice that either, and before long, her hands ached. It was like hitting a slab of rock. When he stopped, she lifted her head to look around, noting their position, away from the protection of the tree line now.

And then she heard it. Could he really have detected the sound, so far away? The dogs were barking again. On the hunt. She imagined Alistair telling the story to his men, making up something so he, of course, looked like the wounded hero. Perhaps he would tell them she had been kidnapped by the massive brute who now had her thrown over his shoulder—and really, was that far from the truth? She knew he wouldn’t tell them she had put an arrow through him. That much he would leave out, she was sure. She hoped.

“They’re coming!” she hissed, beating at the human rock’s back again. She hit him in the side, eliciting a satisfying grunt from the man, and did it again, pleased when she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Let me go! They’re coming for me!”

“Bidh modhail!” he snapped, his hand coming down hard on her behind. Sibyl hadn’t been spanked since she was a child and, while it really didn’t hurt, given how much padding she had on under her skirts, the humiliation of it reddened her cheeks and made her instantly quiet.

And then they were flying.

It wasn’t really flying, but it felt that way. He was so agile, so quick and light on his feet, it felt as if he had simply taken flight as they crossed the stream. Behind them, the dogs grew closer. They were onto a scent—likely her own and she cursed herself for not grabbing her hat, which would allow the dogs to pick up her trail—and pursued it with fervor. Sibyl bounced on the big man’s shoulder, squealing at one point, thinking surely he would fall and she would go tumbling head-first to her death onto the slippery, moss-covered rocks, but then they were across, heading into the cover of the woods on the other side.

Once they were a sight distance from the tree line, the man upended her with a grunt, putting her back onto her feet. Sibyl pushed an already tangled mass of auburn hair away from her face and glared up at him. He didn’t smile, but his eyes danced, clearly amused at her stance—hands on her hips, face upturned—and the words that came tumbling out of her mouth.

“You bumbling idiot! You could have killed us both!” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for your help. Do you understand me? I don’t want your help! No! Go! Away with you!”

She shooed him away like an annoying fly but the man didn’t move. He just looked down at her with those devilish blue eyes.

“Goodbye! Mar sin leibh!” She didn’t know many phrases in Scottish Gaelic, but she had learned a few from Moira. Hello, goodbye, please and thank you. So she said the words, hoping he would understand, and from the look on his face, it was clear he got her meaning. “I’m going! Mar sin leibh! Goodbye!”

She turned and stalked off, getting as far as the nearest tree before he grabbed her again.

“Will you stop that?” she cried, pushing at his arms as they encircled her and turned her to him. “No! Chan eil! Chan eil!”

She repeated the Gaelic word for no, seeing the frown on his face at her protest.

“Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

“Chan eil,” she objected again, but this time, the word came out in a mere whisper. “No… please…”

“Tha.” His thumb traced her jawline as he looked down at her, the sunlight dappled across his face and chest. She knew the word—tha. Yes. It meant “yes.” Sibyl felt her breath quicken as the stranger traced her lips with one finger, his gaze falling to her mouth, then to her throat, then further down still, to the way her breasts nearly overflowed the top of her disheveled dress.

“Tha,” he said again, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. So blue. His eyes were so blue. “Yes.”

“You… you speak English?” she whispered, cocking her head at him in wonder. “Who… who are you?”

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Amazon’s Continued Double Standard – About What You’d Expect

If you’re an erotica writer, you know that Amazon has a double standard. If you publish a title and put it into the “erotica” category, there are certain things that aren’t allowed in the title or on blurb. But if you put that same title and blurb into the “romance” category, it’s fine. Half-naked couples in a hot, torrid embrace are just fine in romance, but strangely, in the erotica category, they’re often filtered and sometimes even blocked. Earlier this year, I posted the double standard about covers, comparing my cover with Mia Sheridan’s, both with what we call “Hand-Bras” (i.e. hands covering breasts). Mia’s cover was allowed in the romance category, but mine wasn’t allowed in the erotica category.

It seems strange that the “dirtier” covers, blurbs and titles are allowed in romance, but not in erotica. You’d think erotica is where those types of things would be located. I mean, isn’t that where the adults are looking for more adult reading fare? It seems a little backwards to me to allow STEPBROTHER DEAREST in the New Adult/College Romance category, but Amazon banned, blocked and ADULT filtered every title I had with the mention of a family relation. They absolutely killed my sales of these books, forced me to change not only titles, but blurbs, take out ANY reference to a family name (we had to resort to phrasing like “man of the house” and “mother’s new husband” when referring to a stepfather, for example) and even pay to have covers changed to match the newly stripped titles.

After all that drama and work, after bending over backwards to comply with Amazon’s crazy, ever-changing rules in self-publishing erotica on their site, now a title like “STEPBROTHER DEAREST” appears and hits #2 on the Amazon charts.

The irony is, if Amazon wasn’t gaming the system, I’d have books hitting #2 too. Easily. If readers were actually able to find our books, if they weren’t pushed down the ranks, hidden with filters, constantly beaten down by Amazon’s efforts, erotica writers would be able to have that same success. When Amazon’s top lists started filling with erotic titles and books, they started making new “rules” about what they would and wouldn’t allow. Of course, as you know, Amazon never tells us those rules. They continue to simply say, “We don’t allow pornography or obscene material” (they clearly do) and they define that as, “About what you’d expect.” Right. So helpful.

I don’t begrudge Ms. Ward her success. I’m glad her book is doing well – I hope she makes a million dollars. Honestly. Go buy her book – I did. I read it, I enjoyed it. It’s a romance between a girl and her estranged stepbrother. But let’s call a spade a spade. This book is, in effect, what we in the erotica industry have labeled, “pseudoincest.” It is a relationship not unlike anything I’ve written about myself when exploring “pseudoincest.” It’s a taboo relationship, on the fringes of what is acceptable in polite society. Woody Allen had a relationship with his stepdaughter. He wasn’t charged or arrested for that, but it was certainly taboo.

People like taboo subjects. They’re fascinating and intriguing, and when relationships push the boundaries between “right” and “wrong,” we’re interested. That’s one of the reasons Ms. Ward’s book is selling so well. With a title like, “STEPBROTHER DEAREST,” she knew she was pushing some hot buttons. And good for her! She found a niche and capitalized on it.

But what about all the other pseudoincest books? We can’t even SAY the word “stepbrother.” Not in our descriptions, and certainly not in our titles! We have been slammed again and again by Amazon for using family-relation words and have learned to be good little writers, if we want to continue to play in Amazon’s pool.

But then a book like this comes out and it rankles me. Not the book itself–what I’m angry about is Amazon’s double standard. Penelope Ward can write pseudoincest, put it in romance, call it “STEPBROTHER DEAREST,” and make it to #2 in the store. But I can’t do that, at least not in erotica. In fact, if *I* published that book – same story, same title, same cover – and I put it in romance, Amazon wouldn’t just ADULT filter it, they’d block it. A book by Selena Kitt (even if it contained the exact same material) is already marked. I’ve been labeled. I would have to create a whole new pen name (and likely a new account) to get away with what Penelope Ward is getting away with right now.

Of course, that’s like starting from zero, and Amazon knows it. I can no longer capitalize on my own brand. Amazon has tied my hands, bound and gagged me,  and thrown nipple clamps on for good measure.

Ouch. The hypocrisy is stunning. And their stranglehold on the market gives us all no choice except to comply. Theirs is slowly, inevitably becoming the only game in town.

I’ve been in this business since 2006 and I suppose Amazon’s continuing double standard shouldn’t be surprising. It’s about what you’d expect.

As erotica writers, we continue to change and adapt. We’ve all self-censored to the point of insanity. We now have all sorts of different phrases for things that are no longer allowed on Amazon. We can’t say daughter anyore (or even stepdaughter) so we say, “Brat” or “Princess.” We can’t say stepfather, so we say “Man of the House.” We can’t say incest, or even psuedoincest, so we say “Taboo.” We can’t say cheerleader (really, we can’t say cheerleader? yep…) so we say “Spirit Squad.” Penelope Ward has no such restrictions. She can publish a title like STEPBROTHER DEAREST without the fear of Amazon’s backlash.

I’d love to live in a world where I could do that too. But I don’t. I live in a world where I get “just about what you’d expect…” Thanks, Amazon.

Let’s take a best guess at what Amazon is attempting to do. I’m going to say, on the high road, what they’re trying to do is “protect the children” from sensitive topic. On the low road, they’re trying to protect the sales of their upstanding, vocal, moral minority by keeping the smut from their innocent, adult eyes. The irony is, Amazon’s policies are pushing taboo topics OUT of erotica, into the mainstream! Instead of finding those topics only in erotica, people can now find them all over in romance. Subjects previously only tackled by erotica writers – taboo, pseudoincest, dubious/nonconsent/rape, monster sex – it’s all finding its way into Romance instead of saying in Erotica. Way to go, Amazon! You’ve accomplished the exact opposite effect you were looking for.

So instead of “Daddy’s Favorites: Anna,” I have to title my work, “Little Brats: Anna.” Instead of telling you it’s a story about adult girl and her stepfather, I have to tiptoe around that and tell you the “new man in her mother’s life” has a thing for her. It’s taboo – it’s pseudoincest. It’s no different than STEPBROTHER DEAREST. None of these are. They’re stories about taboo relationships that intrigue and titilate us. I hope you enjoy Penelope Ward’s book. I hope you enjoy mine too – if you can find them. If you’re looking for taboo subjects and type in “stepbrother,” you’ll find Ms. Ward’s book. But you won’t find any of mine, because I’m not allowed to use that word.

So here are my books – just $0.99 for a limited time and free if you have Kindle Unlimited. Enjoy them while you can, before Amazon changes the rules again! (Don’t blink!)

littlebratstinaLARGE

LITTLE BRATS: TINA

Chubby Tina thinks she couldn’t hate herself any more than she already does, when she overhears the woman who raised her telling a friend, “We’re going to be stuck with Tina forever. No guy is ever going to want her.” Even though it’s her freshman year in college, she vows to quit school and run away. That is, until the new man in her mum’s life catches her with going out the door in the middle of the night with a suitcase. Tina finally, tearfully, confesses, and is surprised by the man’s insight and perspective–and how willing he is to show her just how beautiful and loveable he thinks she really is..

littlebratsannaLARGE

LITTLE BRATS: ANNA

Bookworm Anna is always reading something, but never what she should be! When someone close to her comes up with an ingenious incentive plan to motivate her–Anna tells him she wants something far more dirty than money.

littlebratsbeccaLARGE

LITTLE BRATS: BECCA

Tomboy Becca has always been the girl who caught frogs, made mud pies and climbed trees. She’s never cared for or even paid attention to boys much, unless they were tossing a ball in her direction, but when a new girl shows in up at her school during her senior year, all that changes. How does the new girl get so much attention just for wearing skimpy clothes? Becca discovers she does want the boys to notice her after all, and decides to find out how to make that happen. And what better place to start her experiment than at home?

littlebratschristaLARGE

LITTLE BRATS: CHRISTA

Spoiled Christa has never wanted for anything in her life. All the boys want to date her and every girl wants to be her–but Christa wants someone she can’t have. Someone very, very wrong for her. But spoiled Christa is used to getting what she wants–and she’s determined to get her way this time too!

littlebratsclaraLARGE

LITTLE BRATS: CLARA

Clara lives a typical farmer’s life, getting up in the morning to gather eggs and milk the cows. She knows the man who raised her can use all the help he can get, now that the woman who should have helped him raise her and take care of the farm left them both for a richer life in California with a younger man. The two of them have picked up the pieces and developed their own routine, but when Clara approaches him with a question about boys, both discover that they are far lonelier than either of them ever realized.

littlebratsdarlaLARGE

LITTLE BRATS: DARLA

Sheltered Darla knows the the man who raised her has a whole new life, but she still wants to be part of it. When she takes an opportunity to ask him to prove his love for her, it surprises them both.

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Highland Wolf Pact – Goodreads Print Giveaway – Because Shifters with Six-Packs, Yo!

It’s an autographed print book. From Selena Kitt. With a delectable man on the cover who I would definitely not kick out of bed for eating crackers (or anything else for that matter!)

And you guys – it’s a Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance. Dude!

You gotta go enter to win this one on Goodreads.

Three available. GO!

highlandwolfpactMED

BOOK DESCRIPTION

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT

Sibyl Blackthorne isn’t afraid of anything—except maybe being sold into marriage to a man she doesn’t love. A man she’s never even met. A man who, by reputation, is one of Scotland’s cruelest lairds in over a century.

But what choice does she have, with her father dead and her uncle now married to his brother’s widow, putting him in charge of not only the Blackthorne fortune, but Sibyl’s future as well?

Then her betrothed turns out to actually be far worse than his reputation, so headstrong Sibyl decides life as a peasant, or even death, would be preferable to a future with such a despicable man, and makes plans to run away.

On an organized hunt for wolves—or, as the Scots call them, wulvers—Sybil escapes her fiancé’s clutches, only to find she’s run into something far more untamed and dangerous in the middle of the woods.

When a big, brawny, long-haired man, who only speaks to her in Gaelic and calls himself Raife, simply picks her up and carries her off with him into the Scottish wild, Sibyl knows she’s in trouble.

When he takes her to a place no human has ever been, she knows she’s gone over the edge.

And when he, at last, marks her as his own, she discovers that only one wild heart can claim another.

EXCERPT:

“What are you doing?” Sibyl protested, but barely had time to get the words out before the big man had divested her of her weapon and had thrown her over his shoulder and began carrying her downstream. “Stop! Let me go!”

Her words were lost in the rush of the water and he didn’t seem to hear her at all as he moved quickly—much faster and more nimbly than she expected of a man of his size—down the shoreline. She beat at his back with her fists, but he didn’t seem to notice that either, and before long, her hands ached. It was like hitting a slab of rock. When he stopped, she lifted her head to look around, noting their position, away from the protection of the tree line now.

And then she heard it. Could he really have detected the sound, so far away? The dogs were barking again. On the hunt. She imagined Alistair telling the story to his men, making up something so he, of course, looked like the wounded hero. Perhaps he would tell them she had been kidnapped by the massive brute who now had her thrown over his shoulder—and really, was that far from the truth? She knew he wouldn’t tell them she had put an arrow through him. That much he would leave out, she was sure. She hoped.

“They’re coming!” she hissed, beating at the human rock’s back again. She hit him in the side, eliciting a satisfying grunt from the man, and did it again, pleased when she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Let me go! They’re coming for me!”

“Bidh modhail!” he snapped, his hand coming down hard on her behind. Sibyl hadn’t been spanked since she was a child and, while it really didn’t hurt, given how much padding she had on under her skirts, the humiliation of it reddened her cheeks and made her instantly quiet.

And then they were flying.

It wasn’t really flying, but it felt that way. He was so agile, so quick and light on his feet, it felt as if he had simply taken flight as they crossed the stream. Behind them, the dogs grew closer. They were onto a scent—likely her own and she cursed herself for not grabbing her hat, which would allow the dogs to pick up her trail—and pursued it with fervor. Sibyl bounced on the big man’s shoulder, squealing at one point, thinking surely he would fall and she would go tumbling head-first to her death onto the slippery, moss-covered rocks, but then they were across, heading into the cover of the woods on the other side.

Once they were a sight distance from the tree line, the man upended her with a grunt, putting her back onto her feet. Sibyl pushed an already tangled mass of auburn hair away from her face and glared up at him. He didn’t smile, but his eyes danced, clearly amused at her stance—hands on her hips, face upturned—and the words that came tumbling out of her mouth.

“You bumbling idiot! You could have killed us both!” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for your help. Do you understand me? I don’t want your help! No! Go! Away with you!”

She shooed him away like an annoying fly but the man didn’t move. He just looked down at her with those devilish blue eyes.

“Goodbye! Mar sin leibh!” She didn’t know many phrases in Scottish Gaelic, but she had learned a few from Moira. Hello, goodbye, please and thank you. So she said the words, hoping he would understand, and from the look on his face, it was clear he got her meaning. “I’m going! Mar sin leibh! Goodbye!”

She turned and stalked off, getting as far as the nearest tree before he grabbed her again.

“Will you stop that?” she cried, pushing at his arms as they encircled her and turned her to him. “No! Chan eil! Chan eil!”

She repeated the Gaelic word for no, seeing the frown on his face at her protest.

“Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

“Chan eil,” she objected again, but this time, the word came out in a mere whisper. “No… please…”

“Tha.” His thumb traced her jawline as he looked down at her, the sunlight dappled across his face and chest. She knew the word—tha. Yes. It meant “yes.” Sibyl felt her breath quicken as the stranger traced her lips with one finger, his gaze falling to her mouth, then to her throat, then further down still, to the way her breasts nearly overflowed the top of her disheveled dress.

“Tha,” he said again, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. So blue. His eyes were so blue. “Yes.”

“You… you speak English?” she whispered, cocking her head at him in wonder. “Who… who are you?”

 ENTER TO WIN AUTOGRAPHED PRINT EDITION!

HIGHLAND WOLF PACT

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Banned (Erotic) Book Week 2014

17352184_sIt’s “banned books week” so of course I’m going to talk about banned books. Specifically, banned erotic books, since, that genre happens to be my bread and butter. Recently, Michelle Keep wrote a scathing (and oh-so-accurate) commentary about Amazon’s hypocritical stance on erotica. They advertised “banned books” in a public email, but behind the scenes, they continue to suppress erotica to a great degree, and most customers aren’t even aware.

And for those of you who are rolling your eyes and think that the whole “erotica censorship thing” is over, I can tell you that in the past few months, I have heard from authors about:

  • Audiobooks being filtered. Not from Audible/ACX but on Amazon itself. Check salesrankexpress.com for your audio books and see if they’re filtered. I’ve also heard from authors who have received notice of “unacceptable content” from Amazon about audio books that have been filtered – which have corresponding ebook versions. The ebook versions have not been removed in these cases. The notices seem to be strangely impotent, as Amazon and Audible, while owned by the same company, seem to be operating separately under different rules (or guidelines, as it were.) But that Amazon is going through titles and sending out notices about audiobooks is disturbing.
  • Account blocks. Not BOOK blocks. ACCOUNT blocks. This happened to the aforementioned Michelle Keep, who submitted a book, after making significant changes, after it had been blocked. Amazon has taken a hard line when it comes to resubmitting blocked books. No longer will they “draft” a book and allow you to make changes and resubmit. Now, a book is blocked outright if it is in violation of “content guidelines” – and if you resubmit that book, you may actually have your whole account frozen. Amazon let the Keeps have their account back, after they promised to be good, but I’ve heard of at least one other author who had their account completely removed. Banned from Amazon KDP entirely.
  • More blocked books, specifically dark romance, dubcon and rape fantasies. These are still the focus of the latest purge. Much of what is being reported as blocked involves those topics.

Now that the Kindle Unlimited program has given short erotica new life, we’re seeing a surge of it again in the Amazon store. I imagine the Amazon cockblockers KDP reviewers are being inundated with the stuff, and much of it is being clearly either stolen or outsourced, slapped with copyright-questionable covers, and put up quickly in order to cash in on “borrows.” I’m sure some of them are gunning for those “Kindle Unlimited” bonuses, but I can assure you, no pure erotica author (who isn’t a romance crossover) will be allowed to wear the Kindle Unlimited bonus badge of honor. Amazon will make sure of that. But this is going to cause a backlash for erotica authors, I have no doubt. I predict the noose is going to get even tighter, and punishments are going to be handed out more quickly and with even more force.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much recourse anymore, and the lines of communication — informing authors whether the problem with a book was in the title, cover or blurb, for example — have been closed. Amazon has no interest in telling erotica authors what the rules are, how they may have violated them, or giving them a chance to fix any problems. If you violate the vague, inconsistent, untransparent rules, your book is out. And there’s no three strikes. Two at the most, it seems. If you’re lucky.

I’m sure this is in response to KDP users like the above, who abuse the system to such a degree that jackboot tactics are necessary. Does it annoy me that there are people peeing in the KDP pool? Yes. But Amazon annoys me more. They apply the same punishments to people like the Keeps – who write some pretty amazing erotic fiction – that they do to the blackhat internet marketers outsourcing their stuff and stealing covers for it. Amazon has plenty of money – I think it’s time they invested in more than a few (also outsourced – to places like India) KDP reviewers to handle these issues. They’re a publisher now – it’s time for them to take responsibility for that fact and stop trying to sweep it under the rug.

Instead, they continue to ignore the problem and place the responsibility (and the blame!) for what appears in the Kindle store on erotica writers. How is it our fault one of their cockblockers KDP reviewers approved something that was “in violation of content guidelines?” The fact is, it isn’t. We aren’t the ones responsible for what is or isn’t allowed to be published on Amazon.

But we are the ones who are going to pay the ultimate price.

I’ve been in this business for the past eight years, and that, I’m afraid, is just about what you’d expect from Amazon.

As always, support erotica writers by liking and following “Banned Erotic Books” on Facebook and Twitter.

And read a few banned erotica books this week. We have lots of them on Excessica Eden. Enjoy!

 

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$0.99 Highland Shifters Boxed Set + BIG Giveaway

HIGHLAND SHIFTERS

Highland Shifters 3D New_2000 copy

12 scorching hot shifter romances for only $0.99! LIMITED TIME ONLY! (REGULAR PRICE $9.99) NO cliffhangers!

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NY Times and USA Today bestselling authors such as Selena Kitt, Michelle Fox, Tabitha Connall, Adriana Hunter and Liliana Rhodes offer stories featuring hot alpha shifters in kilts.

Most of the 12 stories in the collection are brand new! Are you ready to peek under the plaid?

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HIGHLAND WOLF PACT

highlandwolfpactMED

ONLY in the HIGHLAND SHIFTERS Boxed Set!

Sibyl Blackthorne isn’t afraid of anything—except maybe being sold into marriage to a man she doesn’t love. A man she’s never even met. A man who, by reputation, is one of Scotland’s cruelest lairds in over a century.

But what choice does she have, with her father dead and her uncle now married to his brother’s widow, putting him in charge of not only the Blackthorne fortune, but Sibyl’s future as well?

Then her betrothed turns out to actually be far worse than his reputation, so headstrong Sibyl decides life as a peasant, or even death, would be preferable to a future with such a despicable man, and makes plans to run away.

On an organized hunt for wolves—or, as the Scots call them, wulvers—Sybil escapes her fiancé’s clutches, only to find she’s run into something far more untamed and dangerous in the middle of the woods.

When a big, brawny, long-haired man, who only speaks to her in Gaelic and calls himself Raife, simply picks her up and carries her off with him into the Scottish wild, Sibyl knows she’s in trouble.

When he takes her to a place no human has ever been, she knows she’s gone over the edge.

And when he, at last, marks her as his own, she discovers that only one wild heart can claim another.

EXCERPT:

“What are you doing?” Sibyl protested, but barely had time to get the words out before the big man had divested her of her weapon and had thrown her over his shoulder and began carrying her downstream. “Stop! Let me go!”

Her words were lost in the rush of the water and he didn’t seem to hear her at all as he moved quickly—much faster and more nimbly than she expected of a man of his size—down the shoreline. She beat at his back with her fists, but he didn’t seem to notice that either, and before long, her hands ached. It was like hitting a slab of rock. When he stopped, she lifted her head to look around, noting their position, away from the protection of the tree line now.

And then she heard it. Could he really have detected the sound, so far away? The dogs were barking again. On the hunt. She imagined Alistair telling the story to his men, making up something so he, of course, looked like the wounded hero. Perhaps he would tell them she had been kidnapped by the massive brute who now had her thrown over his shoulder—and really, was that far from the truth? She knew he wouldn’t tell them she had put an arrow through him. That much he would leave out, she was sure. She hoped.

“They’re coming!” she hissed, beating at the human rock’s back again. She hit him in the side, eliciting a satisfying grunt from the man, and did it again, pleased when she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Let me go! They’re coming for me!”

“Bidh modhail!” he snapped, his hand coming down hard on her behind. Sibyl hadn’t been spanked since she was a child and, while it really didn’t hurt, given how much padding she had on under her skirts, the humiliation of it reddened her cheeks and made her instantly quiet.

And then they were flying.

It wasn’t really flying, but it felt that way. He was so agile, so quick and light on his feet, it felt as if he had simply taken flight as they crossed the stream. Behind them, the dogs grew closer. They were onto a scent—likely her own and she cursed herself for not grabbing her hat, which would allow the dogs to pick up her trail—and pursued it with fervor. Sibyl bounced on the big man’s shoulder, squealing at one point, thinking surely he would fall and she would go tumbling head-first to her death onto the slippery, moss-covered rocks, but then they were across, heading into the cover of the woods on the other side.

Once they were a sight distance from the tree line, the man upended her with a grunt, putting her back onto her feet. Sibyl pushed an already tangled mass of auburn hair away from her face and glared up at him. He didn’t smile, but his eyes danced, clearly amused at her stance—hands on her hips, face upturned—and the words that came tumbling out of her mouth.

“You bumbling idiot! You could have killed us both!” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for your help. Do you understand me? I don’t want your help! No! Go! Away with you!”

She shooed him away like an annoying fly but the man didn’t move. He just looked down at her with those devilish blue eyes.

“Goodbye! Mar sin leibh!” She didn’t know many phrases in Scottish Gaelic, but she had learned a few from Moira. Hello, goodbye, please and thank you. So she said the words, hoping he would understand, and from the look on his face, it was clear he got her meaning. “I’m going! Mar sin leibh! Goodbye!”

She turned and stalked off, getting as far as the nearest tree before he grabbed her again.

“Will you stop that?” she cried, pushing at his arms as they encircled her and turned her to him. “No! Chan eil! Chan eil!”

She repeated the Gaelic word for no, seeing the frown on his face at her protest.

“Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

“Chan eil,” she objected again, but this time, the word came out in a mere whisper. “No… please…”

“Tha.” His thumb traced her jawline as he looked down at her, the sunlight dappled across his face and chest. She knew the word—tha. Yes. It meant “yes.” Sibyl felt her breath quicken as the stranger traced her lips with one finger, his gaze falling to her mouth, then to her throat, then further down still, to the way her breasts nearly overflowed the top of her disheveled dress.

“Tha,” he said again, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. So blue. His eyes were so blue. “Yes.”

“You… you speak English?” she whispered, cocking her head at him in wonder. “Who… who are you?”

GET IT IN THE HIGHLAND SHIFTERS BOXED SET

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