Seducing The Chambermaid - Notorious Nephilim 2

SEDUCING THE CHAMBERMAID, Book 2 of Notorious Nephilim is available for pre-order and discounted 15% until August 21st!!

BLURB: [Ménage Amour: Erotic Historical Fantasy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, bondage, flogging, spanking, HEA]

Chambermaid Blair Lorring thought taking the satchel of jewelry she found in an alley was her ticket to freedom, but now she’s hiding out at an exclusive resort, with a mob boss chasing her. When she’s caught with an expensive necklace belonging to a guest, two of the resort’s mysterious owners make her pay off the debt in their beds.

Leo Fallon and Andras Neville are Nephilim who’ve been imprisoned on Earth for fifteen years, and unless they fall in love with a mortal woman, they’re destined to live out eternity indulging in their favorite vices with no permanent satisfaction. Secretly, each man longs for true love.

When they seduce Blair, hope begins to build. But will she believe their story and accept them on such terms? Or will the men chasing her ruin their business and kill Blair?

STORY EXCERPT: Blair wiped the tears from her face and stood on shaky legs. She had to finish her duties. Men were shitheels. They all lied, they all hurt women, and they were all crooks. But she couldn’t lose this job. Fox Lake was only fifty miles from Chicago, but she felt safe here. This resort was exclusive and protected. Its owners worked hard to keep it that way, and from the moment she’d walked through the front doors, tired, hungry, and scared, she’d felt a sense of peace envelope her. Frankie and her father wouldn’t find her here as long as she kept her wits about her.

Blair forgot all about the necklace until she’d finished her work for the day and returned to her modest room in the staff wing of the resort. She fished it out of her pocket, alarm spreading through her. The right thing to do would be to march straight back to Mrs. Stanton’s room and explain. But explain what? That she’d dropped it into her pocket and forgotten about it because she’d been frightened by a slamming door and a newspaper headline?

She banged her fist on the dresser top and fought back fresh tears. How did the daughter of a bookie who had unknowingly stolen jewelry from his gangster boss move on and live a straight life? Was it even possible?

She had to put the necklace back in Mrs. Stanton’s room as soon as possible. Maybe she’d be eating dinner by now or somewhere else in the resort? The guests were always milling about in the evenings, taking advantage of the many activities. If Blair waited until morning, it might be too late. The last thing she needed was trouble.

But how would she get the passkeys again? All the chambermaids turned them in when they put their cleaning supplies away at the end of the day. What possible excuse could she give for needing hers back again?

No matter what story she told, it would arouse suspicion, and that’s the last thing Blair needed. She was on the run from Frankie and her father. She didn’t need speculation that drew attention to her, and she didn’t want anyone to question her activities.

She was stuck. There was no way to return the necklace until morning, unless she found one of the owners and explained. As soon as the thought took shape, she dismissed the idea. She’d already lied to them about why she was here. She needed this job.

Blair opened the top drawer and dug underneath her bras and panties, stuffing the necklace between them. The lingerie wasn’t even hers. She’d shown up here with nothing but the clothes on her back. The owners had offered her a job and shown her around the place. Then they’d brought her to this room where she found it stocked with clothes and toiletries. Blair had never asked how or why.

There were a lot of odd things about this place, Blair noticed, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tomorrow she’d put the necklace back in Mrs. Stanton’s room and put this entire incident behind her.
* * * *
Leonard Fallon perched on the edge of Andras Neville’s desk and shuffled through clippings from the Chicago Tribune over the past month. “It’s definitely Blair.” He studied the grainy photograph under the headline Daughter of Local Bookie Wanted for Theft. Fillipone Involved? There was no doubt the pretty face staring back at him belonged to the newest chambermaid they’d hired.

“We didn’t check her background,” said Andras, shrugging.

From across the room, Zach Neville lifted his gaze from the mountain of balance sheets on his desk. “I remember you both telling me not to worry about her past. Just hire her, you said.”

Andras stood and stretched. “You’re right. I take full blame for this. But what was I supposed to do? She walked here from Chicago. Just walked through the woods and followed the lights outside.” He glanced at Leo. “You saw her. She looked like she hadn’t slept for weeks.”

“She’s being hunted by Frankie Fillipone,” said Leo. “Her own father has accused her of stealing from him and his clients.” They’d managed to stay in business for fifteen years by catering to goons like Frankie. It kept the gumshoes from becoming too curious about them and brought in a steady stream of guests. If Frankie was looking for this dame and got wind of her working here, it could jeopardize the resort.

“Her father is a crook and works for Frankie. He’ll say what Frankie tells him to say.”

“Andras, you don’t know that.” Leo picked up the news clippings. “We’ll give her a chance to explain, but if it turns out she is involved with Frankie, we’ll have to let her go.”

“You’d turn a beautiful girl away? Just like that?”

Leo shook his head. “We have a resort full of great-looking dames. What if she’s a moll?”

“Why would she be here then?”

“Frankie could have sent her to keep an eye on things. She had a vague story as it was. I’ll bet you a sawbuck there’s more to this than either Blair or the newspapers are saying.” Leo hadn’t believed one word of Blair’s story that her parents were dead and she’d been living on the streets. The news stories proved his instincts had been right. He’d never admit this to Andras, but from the moment he’d laid eyes on her all he wanted to do was shelter and protect her. She looked like the kind of girl who’d never been treated right. And she had the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

*IT'S OFFICIAL RELEASE DAY FOR BOOK ONE OF MY NOTORIOUS NEPHILIM SERIES*
***SPANKED BY AN ANGEL***

*Click the picture to be taken to the buy link*
*MFM menage*
*WARNING: book contains spanking, flogging, anal sex, hot Nephilim and a HEA*

BLURB:
Fleeing memories of her recent divorce and longing for some control over her life, Abigail Cosslin takes a two-week vacation at an exclusive resort that caters to its guests’ every desire. When she becomes involved with two of the resort’s mysterious, sexy owners, she doubles her pleasure, but what are they hiding?

Zachary Neville and Emmett Fallon are Nephilim who’ve been imprisoned on Earth for ninety years, and unless they fall in love with a mortal woman, they’re destined to live out eternity indulging in their favorite vices with no permanent satisfaction.

Zach and Emmett helped start Lilith’s Playground during Prohibition as a way to snub those who had a hand in their punishment, but each man longs for true love.

When they meet and seduce Abigail, hope begins to build. But will she believe their story and accept them on such terms? Or will she be lost to them forever?

EXCERPT:
Abigail caught the scent of baked apples and cinnamon, causing her stomach to rumble. When she stepped inside the stables, she hugged her elbows. Heat lamps were scattered along the floor, but the temperature still had to be below freezing. A couple of horses whinnied at her presence, and one stuck its muzzle over the stall door as she walked past. She stopped to stroke his forehead, when Zach rounded a corner.

The smell of baked apples grew stronger, and Abigail realized it had to be coming from him. What was with the owners here? Did they all smell like something delicious and mouthwatering? She’d obviously been too distracted to notice his scent at dinner.

His pewter eyes regarded her with surprise. Snow dotted his wavy hair, and his cheeks were ruddy, as though he’d been outside for some time. “Abigail. Are you signed up for a sleigh ride?”

She shook her head, struggling to remember all the things she’d planned to say to him. Her breath came in short gasps as they stood staring at each other. What was wrong with her? She had nothing to fear from this man.

“Taking a walk then?” His speech was no longer slurred and his tone pleasant, not sarcastic or insolent, as it had been earlier. She started to wonder if she’d hallucinated the entire conversation at dinner.

“I came to find you.” Squaring her shoulders, she held his gaze. “I have a few things to say to you.”

He strolled next to her and patted the horse. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? Name is Antares. We’ve named them all after stars.”

Abigail was stunned into silence. A few hours ago, this man had been drunk and incredibly rude. Now he stood here, smelling good enough to eat, talking about horses and stars. Had she stepped into The Twilight Zone?

When he fixed her with an intense gaze, her heart skipped a beat. “Will you take a ride with me? We can talk in the sleigh.”

What game did he think he was playing? “We can talk right here.”

“I’d love to show you the trails. They wind through the pines, and we’ve lit them with torches to keep them warmer.”

“I don’t understand you at all, Zach.”

His gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, then regarded her again with a mixture of sadness and regret. His eyes were the most unusual shade of gray she’d ever seen, and had almost an iridescent quality to them. She blinked to keep from staring.

“Come on. Let’s hitch up Antares. He hasn’t been out in a few days, and I think he’s itching to take a walk in the snow.”

As if the horse were a coconspirator, he whinnied and began to prance. Abigail watched Zach put the bridle on Antares, then followed him outside where several men waited to help him hitch the horse to a sleigh. What was it about this man? Why didn’t she simply insist they talk in the stable? It was freezing cold out here.

As he took her hand to help her into the sleigh, an electric jolt shot through her body, despite the fact they both wore gloves. Soon her arm was infused with warmth that spread all the way down to her toes. What the hell?

He climbed in next to her and grabbed the reins as she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the power this man seemed to cast over her. If she didn’t get this out now, she never would. It was time to stand up for herself.

“You were incredibly rude at dinner. I’m a paying customer.”

“I agree.”

“What?” She turned to face him, expecting to see mockery on his face, but his gaze was fixed on the trail ahead of them.

“I said I agree with you. I was rude. You’re a guest and should be treated with respect. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Well, that certainly took the wind from her sails. Now what? “Why did you speak to me that way?”

“Because when I get drunk, I can’t control my tongue.” He sighed, glanced sideways with what could almost be called a grin, then turned his attention back to the trail.

“Then perhaps you should refrain from drinking alcohol?”

He chuckled softly. “Right again.”

“I sound like I’m lecturing you. Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t touch the stuff.” He gave her another sideways glance, this time filled with curiosity. “My turn for a question. Why did you come on this vacation?”

Abigail was grateful for the dim light, and the fact her sudden flush could be attributed to the cold. “I told you at dinner. Sharon enjoyed it.”

“But that’s not why you came. I want to know what Abigail Emily Cosslin expected from this trip.”

Shit. She’d walked right into this one. If she evaded his question, she’d come across as rude and bitchy. Plus she’d already nailed him for not responding to direct questions, and here she was doing the same thing.

“Sharon’s description sounded intriguing.”

“What specifically intrigued you?”

“I’d rather not say.” Coward.

She’d expected Zach to keep pushing, but instead he settled back against the leather bench. Abigail would never admit this to him, but it was quite breathtaking out here. The torches cast enough warmth to make the ride comfortable, and the pines sighed and whispered in the soft breeze. Bells jingled softly on the sleigh as they rode. With any other man, this would be incredibly romantic.

Their legs touched as the horse trotted along. There was no room to inch away. Abigail tried not to notice the way his thigh muscles flexed each time he shifted his weight. The smell of apples and cinnamon was stronger now, and she wondered if that was because of the night air. When she realized she no longer felt chilled to the bone, a sudden ripple of alarm sent a shiver through her.

Men didn’t smell like food or have the power to charge the air around them with electricity. They didn’t seduce her with a glance or warm her entire body by their mere presence. Abigail had to admit she hadn’t believed most of the things Sharon had told her about this place. But now that she was here, she had to accept the fact that Sharon might not have been exaggerating.

“Then at least tell me why you were crying at dinner.”

She snapped her gaze to his face. Those pewter eyes held her spellbound, as if she were looking into a pool of shimmering water. The sound of sleigh bells faded into the background as the pool grew larger, promising warmth, peace, and comfort. All she had to do was dive in.

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HIS MAJESTY'S SECRET 

STORY EXCERPT

Ravenna forced away the fear and weighed her options. She couldn’t stay up here indefinitely, and they wouldn’t leave. How long before they simply climbed up and pulled her down? The only way she’d reach the portal was to descend the tree and talk her way out of this. Her cover story firmly in place, she started to descend, hoping her silly skirt stayed put this time. She should have dressed in breeches.

Her pack started to slip again, and as she reached for it she lost her footing and tried to slide down the trunk rather than fall. She landed on her backside, and the men laughed again. Her face hot with embarrassment, she scrambled to her feet and pulled her pack close to her body.

“Who are you, girl? Why were you hiding?” asked the taller man, taking a step toward her.

She backed up a few paces, nearly tripping on a tree root. “That is not your concern, Guardian.” So much for talking her way out of this. They reeked of whiskey, and the lustful look in their eyes didn’t give much hope of reasonable conversation.

Both men advanced toward her, and, as she turned to run, one of them reached out and grabbed her skirt. She tripped while trying to wrench the fabric from his hand, landing on her face. The sharp taste of fear, as if she’d put the point of a blade on her tongue, filled her mouth and nose. She tried to rise to her knees, but the heel of a boot on her ass prevented it. One of them tugged the pack out from underneath her, sending a sudden pain across her left breast.

“Looks like she’s taking a journey.”

She turned her head and watched Rock Thrower pull her satin undergarments out of the pack and hold them aloft. “These are not the clothes of a peasant. Who are you, girl?”

The man above her moved his foot from her ass to the middle of her back and pressed down hard. She bit back a cry. These vermin would not have the satisfaction of seeing her fear. “Let me up. You have no right to do this.”

“We do what we want, girl.”

Leaves rustled and twigs snapped. Two more pairs of boots appeared in her line of vision. Ravenna tried to look up, but the Guardian’s foot held her firm.

“Your Highness,” said the man above her, his voice full of surprise.

“What is going on here?” The newcomer’s voice was smooth and polished, unlike the coarse speech of the Guardians. Ravenna tried to see his face but could only see as far as the tops of his knee boots.

“Why are you dressed like a peasant, Highness?”

Highness? Was this stranger one of King Reginald’s sons?

“Let her go.”

“Why should we listen to you, Prince Dalmas?” asked Rock Thrower, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dalmas? Crown Prince Dalmas? This stranger was the King’s eldest son? She’d heard the tales of him often enough to know him as a rogue, intent only on intrigue at the castle and his own pleasure. This man would not protect her from the Guardians. He’d take her first then hand her over to them.

“How dare you question me?” he asked, his tone leaving no doubt he expected his every word to be obeyed without argument.

The man above her chuckled quietly. “We wouldn’t question you, Highness, except we’ve heard rumors of certain revelations at the castle this morning.”

The pressure on her back eased up, and she was able to twist around and see past the stranger’s knees. Her gaze traveled over drab-colored breeches that couldn’t hide firm thigh muscles, to broad shoulders and strong arms encased in an olive tunic. One of those arms moved suddenly to unsheathe a sword. The Guardian removed his boot from her back and stepped away.

Ravenna sat up. The Prince held the tip of his blade to her captor’s throat. Rock Thrower held the tip of his sword against the chest of a young man. Both he and the Prince wore calm looks on their faces, as though they were merely out for a stroll in the forest and had come across acquaintances instead of being on the verge of a duel.

What in the name of Gehenna was going on? Ashdowne’s alliance with the Guardians went back for centuries. Why would their Crown Prince pull a weapon on one? Ravenna watched the Prince’s face, admiring the strong set of his jaw and his high cheekbones. His dark, wavy locks fell loose over his shoulders.

The Guardian at the end of the Prince’s blade chuckled. “It appears we have a stalemate here, Highness. I don’t wish to lose my life, and I’m certain you don’t want to lose your servant, so let us strike a bargain.”

“You are not in a position to strike bargains, Guardian.”

“And you no longer have power over us, Highness.”

A brief flash of anger shone in the Prince’s eyes, and his jaw muscles twitched. What did the Guardian mean? Why would he no longer have power over them?

“Give us the girl,” said the Guardian, “and we’ll let you and your servant be on your way, with no word to the castle that we saw you.”

Ravenna gasped. “You have no right to—” The look in the Prince’s eyes stopped her cold. They held a warning she didn’t understand. Was he trying to protect her from them? That didn’t ring true with all she’d heard about him.

“She is not yours to have,” he said, poking the Guardian in the neck with the sword tip. A tiny red spot formed on the man’s skin.

The Guardian visibly swallowed. “And she is of no concern to you. The longer you delay here, the more likely the Castle Guards will catch up with you. Your brother has a price on your head.”

Heat Level: SCORCHING