Illicit Activity, Bound 3 (M/M) ~ J.R. Gray

Blurb:

The Christmas season is fast approaching for Jesse Goldmen and George Sirus, and their forced break up weighs heavily on their sanity. Trying to keep a connection alive is almost impossible as they turn to stolen late night dinners and secret meetings, which never seem enough.

Zac Goldmen takes an interest in George’s slave, Elliot. Being told no only makes Zac want Elliot more, so he starts a ridiculous campaign to try and shock and charm Elliot into bed. But his advances are put on hold when Elliot gets outed in the aftermath of the blackmail scandal, causing a big media storm for him and his father the Vice President.

Kennedy seeks solace from Zac, when things just get too much for her, bringing out his hidden caring side. Zac finds himself torn between being a friend and an easy hook up. Determined to see Elliot and bring him some holiday spirit, Zac starts a battle of wits with George. Will George be able to outsmart Zac, and keep him away from Elliot, for long?

Be Warned: m/m sex, BDSM, sex toys, fire play

Excerpt:

The doorbell rang early in the morning. Elliot had finished his chores and was sitting on the floor next to the fire, working on his homework. There was no one else in the penthouse, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. When he wrenched open the heavy, ornate door he found Zac, Jesse’s brother, staring back at him wearing fireman pants and suspenders to hold them up. His body was smeared with charcoal, and he looked oiled. Elliot was entirely confused.

“The exact face I wanted to see.”

“Can I help you, Sir?” Elliot reverted to his training.

“Yes, I have a hose that needs servicing.” Zac grinned wickedly.

Elliot tried not to let the shock show on his face. “I’m sorry, the King is out. Can I take a message?” He shifted and squirmed, getting flustered at the seeming advance from the beautiful redhead.

“I didn’t want it from him.” The bulge in Zac’s pants was noticeable, and Elliot tried not to stare. “And I knew he was gone.”

“How did you know he was gone?”

“I watched his car through the camera I installed above his parking space ‘til it left.” He flattened out his mouth and raised both brows like it was no big deal.

Elliot stared. 

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Author Bio:

When not staying up all night writing, J.R Gray can be found basking in the warm glow of the Miami sun, or at the gym where it's half assumed Gray is a permanent resident. A dominant, pilot, and sword fighting enthusiast, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. Gray frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns, to jot down nonsense. The bane of Gray's existence are commas, and even though it's been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder.

If Gray wasn't writing…well, that's not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave or possibly a mental institution where the tales would end up on the walls in crayon and finger paint.

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Breach of Contract, Bound 2

Evernight

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Legally Bound, Bound 1

Evernight

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Alien Manhunt 2 (M/M/M) ~ Jennifer Denys

Blurb:

Planning to let his mates act out their fantasies, Suva takes them to his home planet of Espoornia and lets submissive Taran chase dominant Greg for a change, with a sneaky scheme to end it all in a marriage ceremony.  But Suva’s plans go awry from the start and one of them is hunted for real. Worried about the one captured being sold or killed, the remaining two have a hard time searching for the other. But then they find themselves in danger, too! Will they escape? Will they ever be free to marry?

Be Warned: ménage sex (MMM), m/m sex, BDSM

Excerpt:

“No way am I running around naked.”

The two others also standing in the immense forest looked at Greg in astonishment. He knew he sounded petulant, however, he hadn’t expected Espoornia, the home of his elf-like alien partner, Suva, would be so damn cold. It was nothing like their home on the space station, Orion One, which served as an administration, communications and military point for the various nations that co-habited that area of the galaxy. Even his birth planet of Earth, which he hadn’t visited for some years, was far warmer. Unless you were at the poles of his home world, of course.

He shivered and resisted the urge to cup his cock. “If I run around with no clothes on my dick will go blue. Jeez, it will do more than that—it will freeze and drop off!”

Suva said something in his own language and stormed off, his long yellow coat flowing behind him as his lengthy strides took him back to their car shuttle. A densely covered planet, it was impossible to fly from one place to another so the only transport was land-based. Even taking this vehicle involved a journey of many hours.

Taran, the third in their relationship, a reptilian from the planet Cinattra, gave a quirky smile, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement at Suva’s outburst as Greg glanced in his direction. The alien looked away, as if he didn’t want to repeat the Espoornian’s words.

Greg huffed. “So what did Suva just say? I am guessing he swore at me, or something?”

On the space station, translations were broadcast immediately if anyone spoke anything other than the galactic language. There were no such facilities in the middle of the cold—but stunningly beautiful—forest where the trees rose to impossibly soaring heights. It made Greg dizzy looking up.

Taran laughed and Greg studied him, amazed that the youngest of the trio could go bare-chested in this temperature. He might be presenting his gorgeous red, muscular chest, as was normal in his culture, the scales on the sides of his body showing above the belt, but Taran was from a hot world, which made it even stranger to Greg. At least Taran wore leather boots to match his black, jewel-encrusted skirt and the band around his neck. The latter was a sign of his submission.

The Cinattran nodded. “Yes. It was something about your manhood being too small to drop off, and even if it did he would stuff it up your soft human backside.”

Greg’s face tightened. But he couldn’t stay angry for long, and a chuckle escaped him. “I’ll show him too small one of these days!” Walking over to Taran, he ruffled his partner’s long red hair, tied back in its customary plait, so different from his own closely cropped hair. Greg was the dominant one in the relationship, having picked up both guys at a bar on the space station. Suva could switch between roles, being submissive with him while dominant with Taran, who was submissive to both of them. Their relationship usually worked well.

Except everything had changed.

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Author Bio:

Jennifer Denys is a multi-published author of BDSM novellas, sci-fi stories and romantic comedies with more than one publisher. She is also working on werewolf and historical novels.

An Englishwoman through and through, she lives in a beautiful historical city in England with her pet rabbit who is thoroughly spoiled and is the dominant one in her household...

She posts to her blog three times a week to keep readers up-to-date on forthcoming books and writing in general. Do email Jennifer she would love to hear from fans.

Author Links:  Website/Blog

ASSASSIN, Planet Alpha (M/M/M) ~ Nicola Cameron

Blurb:

Planet Alpha TM

While hunting raiders, Duncan Shea and other members of the New Black Watch run into a deadly ambush. Injured and alone, Duncan stumbles across a grounded shuttle carrying an Alphan warrior named Taric and a mysterious Xyran named Zhan. The handsome aliens agree to help Duncan, but he quickly learns they also have a plan of their own -- to claim him as their mate.

Forced to hide their bond from their respective governments, Taric and Zhan never expect to find their third bondmate while on an unauthorized mission to stop a vicious Xyran slave master. Neither of them can resist the urge to claim Duncan, but will their new mate help them catch their old foe, or turn them over to Earth -- and Alphan -- justice?

Be Warned: menage sex (MMM), m/m sex, rimming

Excerpt:

          Duncan stepped back as the airlock hatch rose, revealing a huge golden Alphan warrior in a black uniform. A brief memory flickered across his mind, an afternoon with a tall, broadly built watchman who had tumbled him laughing into a bed of leaves before fucking him senseless. The sex had left him with a distinct appreciation for men built on the alien’s scale.

          “Greetings, human,” the Alphan said, golden eyes staring at him curiously. “Are you in need of aid?”

          The low, rumbling voice knocked him out of the memory. “Uh, yeah. I mean, yessir,” Duncan said, wondering if he should salute or what. “Name’s Duncan Shea. I’m with the New Black Watch.” He showed his right arm, where a band of green and blue tartan had been clumsily sewn. At the alien’s puzzled look he added, “It’s a guard unit. We were tracking some thieves when we got ambushed about five klicks from here.”

           The alien glanced at the woods behind him. “You are alone?”

           Duncan grimaced. “My men are dead. Bastards planted some kind of mine in the woods.” Like an alien’s gonna know what a mine is. “You step on it, it blows up,” he clarified. “You heard anything about that, sir?”

           The Alphan’s eyebrows rose. “About … mines?”

           “Or thieves, sir. Local ones.”

           The alien shook his head. “I know nothing about local criminals, Watchman Shea. Nor do I know anything about human explosive devices.”

           Duncan sagged. Even if the Alphan was lying, there was no way he could prove it. And forcing his way on board an alien ship, even if it wasn’t hiding outlaws on board, was suicide. “All right, thank you.” With a weary tip of his hat, he turned to go.

          “Wait,” the alien ordered. “You were injured in this explosion.”

          It was a statement, not a question. Duncan shrugged, then winced as his cold, tight muscles cramped with the motion. “Got banged up a little, yeah.”

          This time the Alphan glanced up at the gunmetal sky and the cold rain pouring down. “This weather is not safe or healthy for an injured human. Board my ship and I shall assist you.”

          It was Duncan’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “‘Scuse me?”

          “Did I use your language incorrectly?” The Alphan switched to a loud, slow tone. “Board … my … ship … and—”

          Duncan shook his head. “I got that. I meant, why are you gonna help me?”

          The alien smiled. It made his craggy, handsome face more human, somehow. “My race signed a treaty with yours to offer assistance when and where we could. As such, it is my duty as an Alphan warrior to assist an injured human warrior.”

          “Oh.” That did line up with what he’d heard about the gold aliens and their sense of honor. “Well, sir, in the case, I’d be pleased to get out of the rain for a spell.”

          The Alphan stepped back, and Duncan climbed into the airlock, pulling off his hat and swallowing a moan as the warm air hit his cold, wet skin. “Oh, that feels good.”

          “I imagine it does.” The Alphan towered over him by a good six inches, and a pair of pointed black horns on his forehead added another inch of height. Duncan couldn’t help checking out the thickly muscled body straining the seams of its uniform. While he was in good shape, he suspected that the Alphan could crush him like a bug.

          Or throw you down and fuck you silly, part of his mind suggested.

          He shivered pleasantly at the thought. “Um, do you—”

          “What a sodden creature,” another voice said sourly. “Do we let it drip dry, or do we wring it out?”

Buy Links:

Evernight  ~  All Romance eBooks  ~  Bookstrand  ~  Amazon US  ~  Amazon UK

Author Bio:

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of "y'all," much to her Chicago family's dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn't until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to erotic romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture...). 

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