Zara does not want a relationship with a dominant man. Noah wants a sweet submissive woman. What they get is the last thing either of them wanted… each other.
Zara Hughes had her life all laid out. Find a great story, write it and win awards and accolades. And if the story is dangerous, all the better. Get involved in a relationship with another dominant man? No way. Not happening. Not ever again.
Noah Taylor knows what he wants in his life — danger and excitement in his job; peace and quiet at home. After seeing his friends at Wild Mustang deal with their feisty women, he wants a nice, sweet girl who will keep the home fires burning — a woman he can love and care for and who will never give him a hard time.
When a notorious arms dealer, puts Zara in the cross-hairs of a sniper’s bullet, the result is an explosion of adventure, romance and sensuality that will keep you on the edge of your seat.
It will take you on a journey from London, to the coast of Wales, to the island of Mykonos and to the glittering principality of Monaco.
Contains a hot commanding alpha male, and a woman who is denying her need to surrender to his dominance.
“Coward,” he heard a feminine voice call with a hint of amusement.
Turning towards the sound, he found himself him looking at Zara Hughes. He’d recognize her anywhere. She was tall, with cascading dark brown hair, luminous blue eyes and delicate features. Those eyes were laughing … at him.
“What did you call me?” he growled trying to banish the image before him.
“You heard me … I called you a coward. Not that I think you are afraid of danger or are anything less than honorable, but you’re still afraid.”
“Of what? You?” It was his turn to be amused.
“Not necessarily, but of a woman like me. You tell yourself you want some nice quiet girl who will do as you tell her, spread her legs whenever you want, give blowjobs on demand and wait at home for the great warrior to return.”
“What if I do?”
Zara laughed. “You’d be bored out of your mind within a month.”
About Delta James
Sinfully sultry romance – that’s the world that International and US best selling author Delta James inhabits and shares with her readers. A world where alpha heroes find true love with feisty heroines. Delta’s stories are filled with erotic encounters of romance and discipline. One fan suggested it was best to have a “fan and a glass of water” when reading Delta’s stories.
Delta has been a highly successful competitor both in horse shows (Arabians, Appaloosas and Paints) and in the AKC and International Kennel Club with her beloved basset hounds.
Delta is always happy to hear from those who enjoy her work – and even those who don’t. She can be reached at email@example.com
Want to be in the know about everything Delta James?
Alan is visiting Japan on business. After the outbreak of a pandemic, he finds himself to be the single survivor. The viral disease has wiped away his past life: he must fear injury, loneliness and hunger. Yet, Alan decides to travel back to his family in Berlin, straight across Asia. An exciting, thought-provoking book, impossible to put down.
Praise for Two Journeys:
“Move over, Cormac McCarthy, another survivor is traveling the Armageddon road. Clemens P. Suter’s apocalyptic thriller grabs you in the first couple of pages and never lets go. The reader feels real empathy for the main character’s plight as he begins a seemingly impossible 9,000-mile trip to learn his family’s fate. The cause of the calamity is mysterious but clues are uncovered along the way causing tension to build until we reach the shattering climax. Two Journeys is not to be missed.” – G. Dedrick Robinson, author of Blood Scourge
SAMPLE from the novel Two Journeys:
Then one morning, the barometer’s needle started to rise, and a few hours later the weather started to improve. A new, different kind of breeze came from the southeast, blowing most of the clouds away. The sun came out; I hadn’t realized how much I had actually missed it.
Suddenly a feeling of urgency came over me. The opportune moment for crossing the channel was rapidly approaching. I tried to resist it—after all, was I ready for it? Was all the equipment on board? Could I handle the boat? Then I decided to go with the flow and to set off the next morning shortly before daylight. I had plotted my course many times over. I would aim straight for the island of Iki, which was less than thirty miles away. Then I would pass on directly to Tsu and continue along its northern coast and then cross the final part of the strait and aim for the Korean city of Pusan. The course would be strictly northwest almost all the way.
According to the maps, it should be easy sailing. My interpretation of the manual and the other books that I had found suggested that the trip would probably last fifteen hours. The charts revealed that the islands in between had been (or even were?) inhabited, offering a fallback should anything go wrong. I decided against any voluntary stopover on one of the islands. After all, should the weather worsen again, I could get stuck there indefinitely.
The challenge was the gasoline. What would happen if I ran out of gas? I had calculated the total volume of the tanks several times and had tried to estimate the amount of fuel that I would need. I had once heard that a boat would use approximately one liter for every mile, but that depended on factors such as the strength of the wind, the size of the ship, and the weight that it was carrying. The boat had several tanks, all of which now filled to the rim with fuel that I had carried over from the other ships in the harbor.
The maps showed small villages on the islands, even an airport on the bigger one, so I thought there might be the possibility to get additional fuel there. At the very last moment, I decided to take a small life raft in tow.
I studied the controls again. I had completed some practice runs in the harbor and I had ceased hitting the docks. I wondered what the shore on the other side of the strait would look like. Flying an airplane wasn’t hard but landing was—I suspected the same applied to boating. I hoped that I could find an easy port in Korea.
That night I took my final walk through town. It was getting dark already, a beautiful subtropical evening, the sky aflame and hardly any wind. The two dogs walked along, barking when they saw another dog, protecting their own pack.
I needed to get an additional compass, some new clothing, a waterproof flashlight, and some batteries.
I wandered into a part of town where I hadn’t been before. The houses were small and painted in bright pink and orange colors. I passed a park, and in the fading daylight, I saw a young couple on a park bench, romantically hugging and protecting each other from the chill that had started to come in from the sea. She had her head on his shoulder, he his cheek on her hair. His arm was around her tiny body. Her pink handbag stood straight and orderly on the gravel next to the park bench.
My heart jumped, and I quickly walked up to them. As I came closer, I saw that they were dead and in an advanced stage of decomposition. Her dress was soiled with body fluids, and their hair was blowing away with the wind.
Loneliness came over me. I looked at them for a few minutes, speculating about their lives. Finally, I turned away and left them behind, forever frozen in their final embrace.
About the Author
Clemens P. Suter is the author of roaring adventure novels. Suter’s first novel “Two Journeys” was published in 2011, and describes the adventures of the sole survivor of a pandemic. Its sequel “Fields of Fire” appeared in 2016. “Celeterra” (2013) is a dystopian novel, centered around the theft of Charles Darwin’s testament. Suter’s novels are suited for all ages, combine straightforward adventure and philosophic elements. Although Suter’s topics are serious, romance and humor abound.
I won’t bore you with details about the mysterious medical issues I’ve had over the last year;
the sudden severe allergies to food and medication, the sleep paralysis. All I’ll tell you is that they turned my life upside down.
But I’m a rational person.
Naturally, I assumed that my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw the strange figures standing over me.
But it felt so freakishly real;
especially one face in particular that always stayed with me long after I woke up.
Something about him always drew me in and I knew he was different. He made me feel different.
All my life, romance has felt like something that was reserved for everyone but me. I’d accepted that the only love in my life would be experienced through my artwork.
Now I’m questioning everything I know about myself, about reality, and especially about love.
EXCERPT from Chapter 1
The girls would always tease me about how put together my life was. Sure, it looked good on paper; top-rated artist in my department, an amazing house which I always kept immaculate, and when I wasn’t working, I was at the gym. They seemed to think that I had a perfect life. They had no idea how much I envied them. They both had incredible relationships with gorgeous men who doted on them endlessly. They were always commenting on how jealous they were of my body, but they also never missed a chance to eat delicious foods that I couldn’t so much as smell without getting sick. They didn’t realize that my house was always clean because it was empty and sterile; just like the rest of my life.
I didn’t even have a pet. Ever since little Ivan died, I accepted that I wasn’t pet owner material. If I couldn’t keep a goldfish alive, what chance did I have with a more complex and emotionally dependent animal? Besides, with my work schedule, it would be cruel to even try.
“Before we get started with what we’ve got on today, I need to ask you guys a really important favor,” Abiola said, circling the desk to take both mine and Laura’s hands in hers. “The two of you have been such a huge part of my life. You’ve been there for me through all my family drama and I couldn’t love you more if you were my flesh and blood sisters.”
“Abi,” Laura pushed out her bottom lip. “That’s the sweetest thing you could possibly say.”
“Well, I would be so honored if the two of you would be my bridesmaids this spring. Please say yes!”
The three of us all wrapped our arms around each other in a sickeningly sweet display of female solidarity. I forced a smile and swallowed the lump in my throat as I imagined walking down the aisle on the arm of some random groomsman who had a wife or girlfriend somewhere in the church. This would be the second time I was a bridesmaid at someone’s wedding. The old saying ‘three times a bridesmaid, never a bride’ rang out in my mind.
“I would love to be a bridesmaid at your wedding,” Laura crooned.
I mustered the minimal amount of excitement I could get away with for the situation and said, “Me too. I love you, woman,” then patted Abiola on the back.
Abiola nodded and wiped at eyeliner from beneath her watering eyes. She was an old soul with a soft heart. She spent her weekends volunteering at a children’s group home. That was where she met her fiancé Trevor, and they bonded over their dysfunctional family situations. They would probably adopt a bunch of foster kids right after their wedding and live happily ever after. She deserved that; it was all she ever wanted.
“Okay ladies,” Abiola clapped her hands. “Today we’re looking for something we can use for the promotion of the OSA campus, which will be opening next year in Portland, Oregon. Boss says our primary focus is to attract engineering and architectural students for the Lunar-retreat that’s in the works.”
“So, where do we start?” Laura said, looking right at me.
“I am going to need to work up some concept drawings for the Lunar Resort. Also, if you could give me the clearest photos of the most beautiful views the Lunar Surface has to offer, that would be cool to show exactly what the students should be aspiring to be a part of. I want to see some dramatic landscapes with visible craters, maybe some rock formations. Anything to pull people in.”
“I’m on it,” Laura nodded and sat down at her touch responsive computer.
“I’ll go to engineering to get permission to use blueprints of the resort that you can use to make the concept drawings,” Abiola said, then turned and headed towards the elevator.
It was an exciting project. I used to fantasize that by the time I was ready to retire, I would be able to cash in on all the vacation time I had accrued and maybe even spend a few of my golden years at that resort. The thought of waking up in the morning and looking out the window to see the Earth just as we see the moon from down here always gave me a sense of calm.
Four hours later, all final decisions had been made on what I wanted to use on the project. Right on cue, my trusty assistants started complaining that they were starving to death.
“If I don’t get some corned beef nachos in me in the next ten minutes, I might actually die,” Laura said and stood up dramatically from her desk.
“I want waffles and bacon,” Abiola rubbed her belly.
I sighed at the memory of bacon; I would probably just have some raw vegetables and berries. I was still looking at my screen and inspecting one of the photos, trying to decide on how I would alter the image to bring it to life. My eyes burned. I clenched them shut and rubbed them, forcing them to rest. Eye strain was the enemy and this day was proving to be particularly difficult since I had hardly slept the night before. I couldn’t shake my anxiety about today’s social gathering after work. Stress and lack of sleep usually meant a big fat migraine, which was the last thing I needed at Laura’s party.
“I’m going to head to the chill room. I need a nap more than anything.”
“You better be rested for tonight’s festivities,” Laura wagged her finger at me.
“I’ll bring my party face, I promise,” I said. I stood up but couldn’t stop the oncoming yawn. “The fatigue is killing me.”
“Yeah, no coffee or sugar in your morning will do that to you,” Abiola said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, it’s easy since a cup of coffee could put me in the hospital again, I guess.”
“Jesus,” Abiola pressed her fist to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine, Abi,” I assured her. “I just need to get a little rest.”
The two girls headed down to the food court while I made my way to the sleeping pods. White, plush, and stacked like a honeycomb, they were an inviting image that screamed comfort. I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief to find my favorite lower level pod was unoccupied. Turning on the sound system, I selected a playlist I knew I could sleep through. Sometimes I would choose guided meditation tracks or audiobooks. Today’s selection was soft cello. Something about the deep tones helped me unwind no matter what was on my mind. I settled in, turning on the heated cushions and closing my eyes.
I practiced the deep breathing exercises the doctor had taught me as I pictured myself floating through a dark endless sky toward the moon’s surface. The pictures I had looked at for over four hours served to be the subject of my meditation. I inhaled deeply, focusing on relaxing my arms and legs. Exhaling, I imagined moving further out into space. In… and out…
As soon as sleep found me, I was swept up in a flurry of blinding light. My stomach turned as the light began strobing violently, causing me to feel disoriented. My body tensed as I realized it had been several weeks since I’d had an episode. Right on schedule, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Oh no, no, no, no… I can’t deal with this right now, not at work!
I struggled to wake myself, I couldn’t move. The cold sensation of a smooth metallic surface beneath me was confusing. I felt my fingertips twitch as I tried desperately to flail any and all limbs that might respond to my will, but my body remained where it was. I strained to sit up or scream, but I couldn’t even open my mouth. I was trapped, overwhelmed by the weight of my chest collapsing in on itself. If I didn’t put every ounce of will I possessed into sucking air through my nostrils, I had a very real fear that my body would simply shut down, leaving my body as a cold stiff corpse which might be found hours later in my cozy little pod. Filling my lungs with intention, I gasped for air, breath after panicked breath, hoping someone would notice and wake me.
The strobing intensified for what felt like several minutes and when it finally stopped, there remained a constant blinding light that made my eyes water. Tears streamed from the outer corners of my eyes into my ears.
“Help… me…” I managed to whisper to no one in particular.
From the edge of my vision, a blurry figure leaned over me.
“Please,” I sobbed, trying to turn my head to get a better look at who it was, but I couldn’t.
My chest burned as my heart pounded out of control. I tried to calm myself by reciting the scientific facts about what I knew was happening.
During REM sleep, your muscles are essentially turned off to keep you from sleepwalking. When a person wakes up during REM, they are fully conscious but completely paralyzed. Usually, physical stimulation from someone rubbing or shaking them will pull the victim out of the purgatorial state. Unfortunately, living alone means I have no one to rescue me during these episodes, which can sometimes last for hours.
“Just close your eyes. Everything will be okay,” a distorted voice spoke through the fog of my half-conscious state.
Maybe my brain is morphing the cello music into a voice. Sleep paralysis is often accompanied by waking dreams or hallucinations, after all.
I thought I could force myself to come out of it but, instead, I moved even deeper into unconsciousness. It wasn’t like falling, but more like being underwater and sinking slowly. I struggled against what felt like a chemically induced calm. I tried again to force myself awake but couldn’t. The darkness swallowed me up and I finally surrendered to it.
To my surprise, I suddenly found myself vividly aware of two things; one, the fact that I was breathing without much effort, and two, I was no longer in my cushioned sleeping pod, but rather stretched out flat on my back on a cold metal surface. All efforts to move just made me realize that what I was experiencing was very different from the sleep paralysis I was familiar with. I could move my fingers and flex my wrists and feet. There were actual physical restraints fastened around my wrists, neck, forehead, and ankles that were preventing me from moving.
Blinking hard, I strained to look around at my surroundings. The entire room was reflective as if every surface and object was made from surgical steel. It was shockingly cold, almost like the inside of a walk-in refrigerator. I grunted, twisting my wrists in hopes that I could slip out the straps.
There was a continuous hum that was so low I didn’t hear it so much as felt it vibrating through my entire body. There was a spherical light that seemed to be floating in the air a few feet over me. The ceiling was high above that and almost too dark for me to make out anything but the vague shape of what might have been a reflection of myself and the rest of the room around me. I strained to see past the light so I could study what else I could make out in the reflective ceiling. My heart pounded in my ears as my attention was drawn to a distorted human shape in the darkness at my side.
A chill spread through my body as I realized that someone, or something, was quietly watching me struggle but I couldn’t for the life of me work out who, as the silhouette disappeared from my view the moment I noticed it. Even when I turned my eyes as far as I could, the dark corners of the room remained completely obscured. Regardless of the deafening silence and the fact that I couldn’t see anyone, I knew someone was there.
About the Author
Alice Bane holds a BSc and a voracious interest in all things extra-terrestrial. Self-identifying as a citizen of the universe, she has opted to travel the cosmos through her words. Million Miles Away is her debut Sci-Fi Romance novel.
Racar is determined to find a way to ensure that human females live as long as their Zerconian mates. Solving this problem has become the focus of his life. To the point that he hasn’t even noticed his own mate is right under his nose…
Trying her best to be noticed.
Ellie has tried everything she can to get the clueless, hunky healer to actually see her. Short of running around naked screaming his name she wasn’t sure what else she could do.
And frankly, she wasn’t even sure that would work.
When Racar discovers she is his mate, she doesn’t know whether to trust in him. To believe him.
To let herself hope.
“Was that a request?” she asked.
“No. Why would it be a request when it will happen?”
“You are so arrogant.” She shook her head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Cute? I have heard people call Giz cute. I am not certain I like being referred to as cute. I am strong. Smart. Loyal. Not cute.”
“Racar, you can’t just dictate to me. You’re supposed to ask me.”
“But if I made it a question, then you could say no.”
“I do not want you to say no.”
She sighed. “Racar, ask me.”
He gave her a disgruntled look.
“Ask me,” she insisted.
“Will you move into my house with me?” he said with clear reluctance.
“Yes. I would love to.”
His face relaxed. “Then why did I have to ask?”
She just shook her head with a laugh. He was impossible. She stared up into his face. He was too gorgeous for words. Her body was on hot, her clit throbbing, her nipples hard little nubs.
“Yes, my mate?”
“Will you kiss me?” she asked breathlessly, moving her lips towards him. Certain of his reply.
About the Author
Best selling author, Sadie wanted to blend her love of writing, Sci-Fi (why did they cancel Firefly – sobs) and sexy, dominant males. She lives in NZ with her husband, crazy cats and the OverLord.
Life and death action and intrigue aboard a military space vessel!
A startling command from the dreaded Praetan brings chaos into the tranquil lives of hermaphrodites Eulio and his lover Orosin. Using the tour of the Merculian National Dance Company where Eulio is a star as cover, they board the Wellington, a militaristic starship that values nothing they believe in. Someone is passing secrets about fleet movements and weaponry to the enemies in the Troia, but the efforts of the two Merculians to unmask the spy only stir up a toxic mix of hatred and violence. Who will have to die before the Praetan is satisfied? The Danger Dance is a futuristic space adventure with enough swashbuckling action and intrigue to keep even the most jaded science fiction addict enthralled.
Praise for The Danger Dance
“A crackerjack SF novel—moving, eloquent, and richly textured. I recommend it highly.” —Robert J. Sawyer, award-winning science fiction writer
“A tingling subversity of gender, sexuality and goosebumping excitement. Even better, Soles can rally write, with wit, sensuosity and depth.” —Perry Brass, author of The Harvest, Angel Lust, etc.
“A well written novel, full of sexual and political intrigue, it grips from the very first page and is difficult to put down.” —Annette Gisby, author of Silent Screams.
Other Books in The Merculians Series:
The Abulon Dance
The Merculians, Book 2
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: July 2019
While on tour to the mysterious planet Abulon, the pleasure-loving hermaphrodites of The Merculian National Dance company are intrigued by the virile patriarchal society they discover there. The natives seemed friendly enough at first but when the star’s young lover is kidnapped, the Merculians find themselves plunged into a brutal alien Civil War they are ill-equipped to survive.
Caro Soles’ many novels include mysteries, erotica, gay lit & science fiction. She lives in Toronto, loves dachshunds, books, opera and ballet, not necessarily in that order. THE DANGER DANCE is the first of five novels set in the world of the pleasure-loving hermaphrodites of Merculian. The second, THE ABULON DANCE is the second, and just oit now is THE MEMORY DANCE.