Friday, December 5, 2014

OWNED (A Novella) by B.L. Wilde and Jo Matthews


~ A Novella ~

B.L. Wilde
Jo Matthews

Cover Design: Jo Matthews
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Crime
Expected Release Date: December 5, 2014

Ryan Lawson has almost everything he wants. A Capo to the Valenti Family Mafia, the world is at his fingertips and the ladies all drop their panties at his signature smirk. All but one, anyway, and she happens to be the only one he wants.
On the run from a horrible past, Trixie finds herself accepting a job as an exotic dancer in a club run by the mafia. Left without a choice, she begins to date the Boss’ son while lusting after someone else.
Everything changes when Ryan is offered a chance to win a weekend with the woman he desires. All he has to do is roll the dice. The rest is up to fate.
What will happen when their worlds collide? Will a mutual attraction turn into something more? Or will the dangers they face be enough to keep them apart for good?

I took my place right by the pole, and even though the room was nearly pitch black, I could feel several people watching me. When the music started and the lights came on over the stage, I placed one hand on the pole and circled it, making eye contact with as many of the men in the front as I could. I made it all the way around and then bucked my hips into the cold metal, sliding up and down a few times before spinning around it again.
I had a few tricks in my arsenal, but I wanted to save those for a little later on in the song. Still gripping the pole, I walked halfway around so my back was to the crowd. There were loud catcalls and wolf whistles when I started shaking my hips to the beat of the music. They got even louder as I hooked my left leg around the pole and spun in quick circles until my ass was on the ground and the pole was between my legs. Using my hands as leverage, I planted my feet and lifted my hips, thrusting against the shiny object seductively.
Men from the tables in the back of the room rose from their seats and were closing in on the stage area. Figuring it was now or never, I got to my feet and shimmied around again. Facing away from the audience, I placed my hands high on the pole and jumped up, straddling it and squeezing my thighs together to hold me in place. Arching my back, I released my hands and used my stomach muscles to support me as I flashed some cleavage at the patrons. After a few seconds of holding the position and nearly falling out of my top, I straightened up and slid my way down the pole, shaking my ass and earning more whistles.
When I spun around, my eyes met with Ryan’s for a brief moment. I couldn’t help but smirk at him and toss my hair over my shoulder as I continued to dance. Was it possible that god-like creature wanted me? The mere thought of it turned me on more than anything ever had.
I made a full circle on the pole when I saw him waving a hundred dollar bill around, trying to get me to come over. Feeling overly confident and wanting to fuck with him a bit, I sauntered over and shimmied my hips just inches from his face. His eyes were locked on my covered pussy, and I could have sworn I saw him lick his lips. An image of him between my legs flashed through my mind, and I felt myself getting damp with arousal. Shaking my head slightly to clear it, I continued with my dance.
Every time Ryan reached up with the money, I backed away so he couldn’t touch me. He wasn’t supposed to touch me anyway. At least…I didn’t think he was. None of the customers were ever allowed to touch the dancers according to what I’d been told. Carlo had said that Ryan ran the club, though, so I wondered if that meant he was an exception and could do what he wanted. That thought both thrilled and terrified me.
Still, I shook my head with a smirk on my face and sunk down to my hands and knees. His eyes were focused on my tits, which were nearly bursting out of my bikini top as I began to make my way toward him, so without him even noticing, I pulled the money from his hand with my teeth.
“Thanks,” I winked as I rose to my feet and headed back to the pole to finish the song. I could feel his eyes boring into me until the lights went out and I collected my tips.

About the Authors:

B.L. Wilde
B.L. Wilde is a British author obsessed with many things, including heated love stories and sexy men. Fully supported by her husband, she can often be found at her desk working on her next project, or looking at eye candy online for research purposes. She is a sucker for happy endings, but will always make her characters work for it.
If you enjoy romance, suspense and erotica, let your imagination run 'Wilde'.

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Jo Matthews
Jo Matthews is an Arizona native, where she lives with her son. A stay-at-home mom since 2007, she only recently discovered her love and passion for the written word. When she’s not writing, she’s usually knee deep in editing—an aspect she thoroughly enjoys. As an editor, she has propelled quite a few authors into the published world, and with her skills, has landed several stories on Amazon’s Top Sellers lists.

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Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Promo: All Who Are Lost by Lindsey Forrest

All Who Are Lost
by Lindsey Forrest

Series: Ashmore's Folly Trilogy: Book One
Cover Design: Robin Ludwig of Robin Ludwig Design, Inc

Genre: Contemporary Women's Fiction (Romance) 

Expected Release Date: October 21, 2014

One man.
Too many betrayals.
Three women.
One last chance.
On a cold winter day, a woman calls a number halfway across the world.
A man answers.
After fourteen years, Laura St. Bride hears the voice she has never forgotten, the voice she will remember with her last breath…
What do you do
when the love of your life
is the last person you should love?
A great family estate in Virginia.
Three sisters growing up in the shadow of their father’s obsessive drive to recapture his lost muse, the woman he threw into the cold Irish sea.
The scion of an old family, falling in love with the wrong sister, blind to the ice at her core.
A woman haunted by a moment of blood and violence, when she reached out and took a man who didn’t belong to her.
A man living a life of regret and sacrifice, given a second chance to claim the woman he should have loved all along.

Chapter 18 – Falling Off the Edge

He came back. As she toweled off, she heard his car. As she rummaged in the closet for something to wear, the front door opened. As she covered up the last ravages of the night, she heard him moving around the kitchen downstairs.
She selected a pretty floral sundress from her wardrobe, all white roses and violets on a shimmery green background, and laid it carefully on the bed. Downstairs, she heard him talking. Max, that traitor, must have run downstairs to hang out for a while with another male. She wondered how long she could linger in the room, but nothing, after all, could keep him from coming upstairs to find her there hiding from him.
And she was hiding. I don’t know how to face him. I don’t know how to act the morning after. I don’t know what he wants or expects.…
I don’t even know what I want.
Oh, but she did know. She wanted to turn back time and tide, to make the great sea of their adult lives still uncharted before them. Passion and blood, rage and adultery and the most terrible of betrayals, all still ahead, and this time the iceberg seen in time to prevent the tragedy….
She wanted to wipe the slate clean, and her hands with it.
You will not find absolution in this room.
She stiffened then, and marched back to her dressing table. Her eyes looked better now, not so stretched-out. She said aloud, “All right now,” straightened her shoulders, and walked downstairs to meet her lover.
He’d gone out to get breakfast. A box of bagels lay open on the island counter, and he’d left a cup of fast-food orange juice for her beside a container of cream cheese. But the room, and the house, had an empty stillness. Not even the ghosts of last evening lingered.
Through the picture window, she saw an unexpected movement of a blue sleeve out near the pool.
For a second, she felt disconnected from all her knowledge of him, as if time had indeed run backwards on her. He appeared as a stranger. He had a book open on the table, and the sun glinted softly off his dark hair as he lost himself in his reading. One hand absently crumbled a bagel. He seemed alone, self-contained, as if he had nothing to do with a common past, a shared afternoon of blood and lust, a past night of anguish and discovery.
This was probably how he appeared to the rest of the world.
Then he turned a page, and that gesture summoned up a small memory, tucked away all these years.
It might have been long ago, a Saturday morning when she joined him for fishing or flying models, and they ate a light breakfast first to satisfy Peggy. So many times she had come across him like this, reading, lost in his own world, relaxed and peaceful. So many times he had looked up with an offhand smile and a “Good morning, Laurie.” Casual and careless always, dispensing the minimal attention due a bit player in his life.
But it wasn’t all those years ago, and he wasn’t her secret crush anymore, and he wasn’t a boy with all his life and loves before him. And she was no longer a girl content to settle for a careless smile and the honor of cleaning his catches or watching him crash a model into the lake.
The world had changed.
Hands shaking, she fixed a bagel and brewed a cup of tea. He lifted his head when she opened the back door, and his eyes met hers as she came down the terrace stairs and across the flagstones to the table.
He rose immediately, silently, his book forgotten. In the morning light, she saw further evidence that he was no longer a boy. She saw the remnants of their broken sleep around his eyes, she saw his eyes flare with an awareness she didn’t dare consider, and…
And the world shifted again. He stood there before her, no longer Diana’s boy knight or Francie’s young demon lover. In the darkness, this man had met her equal to equal on the vast plain of desire.
His voice, low, husky, “Good morning, Laurie.” And he took the bagel and tea from her, placed them on the table, and turned back to enclose her in his arms.
I have wanted you across these years, I have waited to step into your arms. Now you’re here, and you’re mine, and what do I feel? What do I say?
His hand rested warmly against the small of her back, stroking her. That lovely, reassuring gesture melted her body into his. She lifted her face to kiss him, and with that he too relaxed. Perhaps he had wondered too about this first meeting, perhaps for him also the world had shifted on its axis. She tasted coffee on his mouth; she felt the warmth of his body along hers, and a sudden glorious certainty glowed luminous in her blood.
“Good morning to you too,” she murmured against his shirt.
He smiled down at her. “I thought I was going to have to drag you out of bed. Did you get enough sleep?”
“No,” she admitted, and then it was all right. He guided her to the table with his hand still warm against her back, and she knew in relief that he didn’t know, the nightmare ending hadn’t happened after all. “But I got more than you did. Richard – you look so tired.”
He caught her gaze and held it as he sat down opposite her, an aware, knowing look that told her he well remembered the feeling of her body against his. “I’ll pay for it later,” he said, “but it was worth it, by God, it was worth it indeed.”
She felt the blush creeping up into her face at the frank look in his eyes, and she wanted to drop her gaze. But no, that was the reaction of a girl, and she had been a woman now in this man’s arms. She had told this man that she loved him, she had confessed her heart to him, she had welcomed him into her body. And in the light of day, face to face with him, she was not sorry.
She sipped her tea steadily. “Maybe you should grab a nap later today.”
“Or an early night,” he returned, equally steadily. Oh, what a wonderful idea… an early night together, and forget her failure of the night before. She’d make it up to him tonight. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. We need to talk, Laurie.”
We need to talk… No, no, no….
Dear God, was he going to tell her it had all been a horrible mistake, he’d changed his mind, had second thoughts... Let her down easy, because she was still the friend of his youth? But he was still looking at her gently, openly. It was worth it, indeed. He had meant that. He had kissed her this morning in welcome, and not as a friend.
She was not going to panic.
She made herself keep looking at him. “I’m here, Richard.”
Now it was his turn for silence. She watched as he bought himself time and space by pushing his book away, tasting his coffee, brushing aside bagel crumbs. What was he composing in his mind as he settled forward, shifting ever so slightly to get the sun out of his eyes?
“There was —” he began, and paused. “When I came back here last night, I didn’t intend,” he gestured, “what happened. That wasn’t my intention at all. I shouldn’t have left you, Laurie. No matter what had happened between us, I shouldn’t have left you alone, not after what you went through yesterday. I realized that once I got home. I just left you here, part of the debris of – this whole damnable mess, and I couldn’t let you face that by yourself.”
He stopped and waited for her. She had to say something. And the honesty in him demanded the same of her. “I thought,” she moistened her lips, “I thought – when you left – I thought it was the end.”
“And it nearly was,” he said. “I realized that, if I didn’t come back, we were finished. We’d never be able to survive the way we left things.”
She saw the truth of that. She’d laid too heavy a burden on him, she saw now, with that desperate confession. She had made it impossible for them ever to meet again, except…
Her heart was beating fast now. She took all her courage in hand. “Richard —”
He looked at her, and waited.
She gestured blindly, and to her horror she felt the burning of tears in her eyes. “But you came back. And you – you said that there was no going back. That sex changes things.” Oh, God, she was not going to cry! She was going to face this squarely. After everything else she’d endured, she would face this. She said desperately, “Has everything changed?”
Silence. She blinked away the sting in her eyes and stared hard at him, across the table, across the whole of their lives, and waited for the answer she could not read in his eyes.
He said quietly, “That’s up to you.”
She drew a painful breath.
Richard’s hands closed around hers, and she surrendered to the warm, firm touch of his fingers on hers. “I was wrong last night,” he said, “wrong for more years than I want to think. You were right, I never saw you. But I do know I’m doing the right thing, Laura, when I tell you that you can decide that last night changed nothing. If you want to write off last night as an experiment —”
“No —”
“We can, you know.” He overrode her words, ignoring the way her fingernails were digging into his hands. “We can decide that last night we laid some old ghosts, satisfied some old curiosity. We grew up together, and it’s only natural that, after all these years apart, our friendship has turned into attraction. But we can take care of that. We can sit here rationally and decide that last night changed nothing, and we put it aside and go on from there. And, I promise you, we can make that work.”
Her heart sank.
“Or,” he continued, “we can decide that there’s no going back, last night changed everything. We can go forward, see what we have to give to each other. Laura,” and his voice made her look at him, “it is up to you.”
She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She whispered, “What do you want to do?”
“What I want,” Richard said, “is to do what you want.”
“I don’t —” and now she had to look away. She couldn’t stand to keep looking at his unflinching gaze. “I don’t want last night to have been – some kind of casual sex – it wasn’t, was it?”
“No,” said Richard above her bowed head. “I’ve never had casual sex in my life. I’ve never made love with a woman I didn’t care about, and last night was no exception. Laura. Look up at me, Laura. It wasn’t casual.”
She regained her voice. She had to say it; she couldn’t let it languish unspoken between them. “Last night – last night I told you I loved you.”
The gift so long unclaimed… and did he claim it now? Or ever?
He took a deep breath, and his eyes turned grave and distant. “I know,” he said, “and of all the gifts you’ve given me, that one I deserve the least. I’ve abused your feelings for me for longer than I want to remember. But, after all that, you still love me. And – and of course you want it returned, don’t you? I wish I could say it, Laurie. But I can’t. I just don’t have it in me anymore.”
The morning stood still. She didn’t breathe.
“I was in love once,” he said, “you know that. I’ve been in love with one woman in my life, and what a disaster that’s been. I don’t trust being in love. I don’t trust feeling that the world is well lost for love, because I nearly lost the world for it, and it wasn’t worth it. Still —”
He lifted a hand and touched her hair. She lifted her free hand and held it to his, and she felt the lifeblood in his wrist against her face.
“It felt very right waking up beside you this morning.” And now the distance had dropped away from his eyes. “The world has seemed very right for the last couple of weeks, ever since you came home. Dear God, Laurie, I never realized how much I missed you, what a hole you left in my life. Maybe I’ll never be in love with you, maybe I’ll never be able to give you all that you want and deserve, but I do love you, you’re part of me and part of my life, the best part too. When I think back to the best moments of my life, you were always a part of those, you’re as interwoven into my life as the air and the sun here in Virginia, and that’s worth a lot to me, and we can build from there – if you want to.”
So it was up to her, as he had said. She thought, a wisp of a thought to tuck away and take out later to ponder, that he had laid his heart in her hands, no matter that he thought he hadn’t a heart to lay.
She didn’t trust her voice. She nodded vigorously, and held on hard to his hands.
“Then,” and she heard him controlling his voice, “we certainly owe ourselves a chance.”
Joy sparkled in her blood.
She wasn’t aware of her movement, that she stood up or that he pulled her towards him, but somehow she ended up in a rush in his arms, on his lap, her arms around his neck, her cheek against his hair, his head resting warmly against her breast. And for all that he could never love her – he held her tightly against him, as if he could never let her go.

About Lindsey Forrest:
Lindsey Forrest, a lead writer/editor for an international information company, writes about income tax but prefers to dream of heroes and heroines and grand romance. With the publication of her trilogy, she checks off the top entry on her bucket list. She lives in north Texas with her family and cat and has a five-year plan for becoming a full-time novelist and editor of indie fiction. When she isn’t working or writing, she amuses herself with reading, needlepointing, tramping around historical sites and houses, and outbidding everyone who gets in her way on E-bay.

Follow the Author: 
  Website     |     Facebook     |     Twitter      |     Amazon Author Page 

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Monday, October 6, 2014

Review for Yes, Mistress by NJ Cole



Em Grayson had everything she wanted—the perfect life, the perfect job, nothing to hold her back. Or so she thought until she attended a BDSM convention in Las Vegas that turned her world upside down and had her questioning everything. Approached by an old friend about a business opportunity in Reno, she’s forced to look at her current situation and make life altering decisions. Violet Jennings is a quiet submissive who longs for acceptance in her life. She begins to find an inner peace while working as a receptionist in a BDSM club. When she meets the mysterious M, she’s driven by a need to serve more than ever been before. Together, will these two be able to find the happiness that has alluded them? Will the need to dominate and serve be enough? Or will they find more than they were looking for?


Grabbing my toiletry bag, I headed into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I slipped a gray tank top on and walked out in just that and my panties. I struggled to keep a straight face as she stared at me.

“Now, go ahead and get ready.”

I listened to her wash up and brush her teeth as I tried to remember the last time I’d had someone spend the night. It had been a really long time, and even then, it wasn’t like this. It was usually due to the fact that one or both of us had been drinking and didn’t want to drive home. This was totally different. I wanted her here, and she wanted to be here.

When she walked out of the bathroom, I felt the wetness gather between my legs and my nipples harden. She was wearing the same pale pink bra, but she also had on a pair of pink boy shorts.

She scampered to the bed and dove under the covers. I didn’t mind the action, but the idea behind it—that I might not appreciate her body—saddened me. I knew she’d need a lot of reassurance that she made me happy, and her practically nude in my bed was an occasion to compliment her.

“I love how sexy you look in my bed.”

She smiled and I kissed her gently, pulling her closer to me. We snuggled like that for a moment before I allowed my hands to explore once again. It wasn’t even two minutes later and I had her panties and bra off.

My fingers found her pussy wet and swollen. “I’m going to fuck that pussy with my fingers and you are going to come every time I tell you to.”

“Yes, Mistress!”

Holding her still with one hand, the other parted her lips and pressed into her tight body. She whimpered as I added a second then a third finger. She was so tight I had no idea how I’d fist her, but it was something I planned to do. When a woman allowed herself to be fisted, she was giving total submission, and that’s exactly what I wanted from all of my pets. This wasn’t the time for that, though. I had a feeling it would take a lot of work to get her ready for that.

Tonight would just be about bringing her pleasure and teaching her to be comfortable when responding to my commands. Already, my hand was coated in wetness and her clit was swollen beneath my fingertip.

“Ungh, Mistress, help,” she gasped, bucking her hips away from me.

I leaned down and bit her breast hard. “Don’t you dare move away from my fingers,” I chastised.

She lay still but started to tremble. “Mistress, I’m…help…I’m…”

“Come for me. Come for me, my sweetheart.”

Her back arched as she ground herself into my hand. I felt her pussy walls clench around me, and a moment later watched as the white fluid coated my palm and fingers.

She collapsed onto the bed but I didn’t let up. Switching hands, I took the come coated one and placed it against her lips while I began my relentless fucking with the other hand.

“Fuck!” She screamed out and I slid my fingers into her mouth.

“Taste yourself. Taste how good you are. And when my hand is clean, you may come.”

She sucked hard on my fingers, but as she did, I lowered my head to her breast. Choosing a milky white spot just below her left nipple, I sucked hard and fast. I released her breast with a pop and looked down at the dark purple mark I’d made. “That’s one.”

It wasn’t long before she was screaming as her body clamped down on my fingers again. Pulling the come covered digits from her body, I placed them in her mouth to clean off while pumping hard and fast with the newly cleaned hand. Again, I lowered my head and marked her breast.

Some women can only come once in a given period of time. Others can come multiple times if stimulated. Then there are women like Violet. The more she came, the easier it was to find that next orgasm. By the fourth one, the fifth one was only a minute or two away. In the end, there were eight dark purple marks covering her left breast, one for each orgasm.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” I said, tracing each mark.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“I gave you one mark for each orgasm. It will help you to remember how I made you feel.”

“I don’t think it would be possible to forget, Mistress.”

Her words made me smile. She’d been so obedient. “You are such a good girl. I’d like to give you a reward.”

She smiled broadly. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“I’d like you to pick your reward. What is it that you’d like? You may ask anything, though I might not agree. I’m still in charge.”

She nodded, and I could tell she was thinking. She bit her lip and crinkled her brow, but still said nothing.

“What is it, little one? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Well, I want a few things and I’m trying to decide.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her dilemma. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking and allow me to pick?”

She nodded. “Well, I really want to be able to use my fingers on you. And I want to be able to bring you to orgasm.” I nodded, indicating she should go on. “I’d like to see your breasts. I’ve been imagining them all day. But what I really want is to mark you the way you marked me.”

She did want a lot, and some things she wanted, like finger fucking me and marking, were simply things I didn’t allow submissives to do. Then again, things with Violet were different than they’d ever been before, so maybe it was time to branch out a little.

“Alright, I’ll allow you to see my breasts and to use your fingers on me. I’m not promising that I’ll have an orgasm, but if I do, I’ll make sure that you know it. You may use one or two fingers, nothing else. You may not put anything near my asshole.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I hadn’t addressed the marking of my breast, but she seemed more than fine with what I was allowing her to do.

I lay back on the bed and waited for her to make her move. She looked at me expectantly. “This is what you want, little one. If you want to see my breasts, you’re going to have to remove my shirt.”

Moving closer to me, Violet smiled and bit her lip. Her hands trembled as she found the cotton hem of my tank top. She began to slide it up and gasped as the thin material moved over my breasts. I loved the look on her face.

When she began to reach for them I had to stop her. “I’m sorry, little one, but you said you wanted to see them, not touch them.” She pouted a bit but pulled back. “However, if you still want to finger fuck my pussy, all you need to do is remove my panties.”

When they were off and laying on the floor, I spread my legs wide. I’d had her head between them earlier, but this time it would be her fingers bringing me pleasure.

“Oh, Mistress,” Violet cooed as she ran her index finger over my clit and between my pussy lips. “You feel so warm and soft.”

I didn’t respond, but her finger felt heavenly. A few moments later, her second finger found the first and she pushed them inside of me. “Ungh,” we both moaned at the same time.

She wasted no time in finding my G spot or in fucking me hard and fast with two of her tiny fingers. It felt amazing, but the look on her face was what excited me the most. It was pure joy as she watched my pussy get wetter and wetter with each stroke. Occasionally, her eyes would look away and to my breasts. I knew how much she wanted to touch them and I admired her self restraint.

My breath hitched when she began to rub my clit with her thumb, but I was still able to speak in a controlled volume. “You may touch my breasts, little one.”

A low moan escaped her lips and her eyes closed for a minute before reopening, zoned in on her target. With one hand in my pussy, her other began to pinch and knead at my breasts.

The sensations she was giving my body were incredible. She had me close to orgasm a few times, but I pushed it back. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to come for her, I just wanted her to work for it, and, knowing my own body, the longer I held off, the better it would feel when I did allow my release.

I held back again and again as she knelt over me, fingers working furiously. She pursed her lips together in what I first thought was concentration, but when I noticed the a slight wiggle, I realized that she was fighting an orgasm of her own. I loved that my little girl got so aroused by serving me. Sliding my hand between her thighs, I found her clit soaking wet and engorged beyond belief.

“You want to come, don’t you, little girl?”

She shook her head while still keeping her lips pressed together. I bit back a smile at how close she was with just one touch from me.

“Answer me, little one.”

“Ungh. No Mistress. I want you to come.”

I admired her honesty and again held back a grin at her war with her own body.

“I’ll come if you do,” I offered her.

“Please, Mistress!” Her voice was a high squeal.

“Make me come.” I rubbed her clit gently as she finger fucked me furiously and squeezed my nipple hard. Closing my eyes, I allowed the orgasm to wash over me. I felt the come flow from my body moments before my hand was drenched in her own liquid.

“Fuck, Mistress!” I listened to her pant and moan as her body shook, almost as if she wasn’t in control of it, until finally she collapsed on top of me in a lifeless heap.

“You did very well, little one. Thank you for serving me in that way.” I rolled her onto her back and looked down at her breasts. One was covered in marks, the other pale and smooth. Leaning down, I took the unmarked one into my mouth and sucked hard. Leaving the biggest mark yet, I sat up and smiled.

“That one is for the orgasm you gave me.”

She ran her fingertips over it lightly and smiled. “Thank you, Mistress. No one has ever marked me in this way before.”

It was my turn to smile. I loved her service, her honesty, and the devotion she showed in her eyes. I also loved the way she made me feel. I had no description for it, but I’d never really felt this way before and the feeling seemed addicting.
She’d given her faith and trust to me and had asked for so little in return. I wanted to grant her every wish. I looked into her eyes and ran my hand up her back and to her hair. I nodded once and pulled her to my breast. “Go ahead, my sweet little one. Mark me.”  

Author Bio:

NJ Cole is a midwestern girl with a kinky side. She works by day and writes by night, all while being a mother to her wonderful boys and serving her Sir. Unlike many of today’s authors, she chooses to write in first person, allowing the readers to experience life through the eyes of the unique characters that live in her head. Her love of those characters and respect for their stories come through loud and clear in her writing. Reaching Amazon’s top 100 list in Erotica with Midnight Caller and Landslide, NJ Cole promises to entertain and excite the reader with her newest tales of love, romance, and as always, hot, steamy sex.

My Review:

I have always been a huge fan of anything written by NJ Cole. In fact, I've followed her from the beginning with Midnight Caller, and have loved each and every one of the stories she has released since. Yes, Mistress is no exception to that.
This book is extremely H-O-T with its steamy sex scenes and well written characters, but it's more than just sex. There's an actual plot to the story that will tear at your heartstrings, have you laughing until your belly hurts, and shouting at the pages when things aren't going how you think they should. At least, it did with me. 
NJ Cole is a Master at putting together books that will have you so involved you can't put them down. Not to mention the fact that you'll need a cold shower when you finish (and periodically throughout the book.) She definitely knows what she's doing, and has a brilliant mind when it comes to writing erotica! I can't wait for her next book!

I would definitely rate this one 5 stars!!

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Yes Mistress: