As a reader of erotic romance, what grabs your interest? What gets your emotional juices flowing. What is it that invests you in the characters? What makes you not want to put down the book until the very end?
If you enjoy the naughty bits of menage a trois in various combinations, or simply men loving men, read on --
Excerpt from A Strength of Arms, Book One of The Men of Sanctuary:
Lucian pulled the chair out again, and settled himself. He took a swig of now-warm sweet tea and made a face. In all the years he and Adam had been absolute best friends, closer than brothers, during all the years that they had been a kick-ass no-holds-barred Marine scout-sniper team, he had never heard anything like this.
During their occasional dalliances with the opposite sex, Adam would invariably be polite; yes ma'am, no ma'am, thank you ma'am. Their dates knew the drill: he and Adam swapped partners, but never shared the same woman. The men enjoyed themselves; the ladies were always well fucked and satisfied. Then everyone went home. No muss, no fuss, no bother. No entanglements. But this—this was so totally not Adam. Since Lucian felt equally as taken with their guest, he understood the problem.
He sat, quiet, for a long time—and Lucian was never quiet for a long time.
Lucian finally rose, and helped himself to a cold iced tea. "Well then, there's only one solution. We share her." He said it calmly. Like it made all the sense in the world.
"You're fuckin' with me, right? That's your brilliant solution?" Adam dropped his arms to his sides, his big hands fisted. He shook his head. "Luce . . . . "
"Hoss, listen to me. Pull your head out of your ass. If you think about it for more than a nanosecond, it makes perfect sense. We both want her. We want her here, we want her safe. You know and I know that we're the best thing that could happen to her. We need to convince her to stay here, with us, while we sort out whatever mess she's in. So she gets comfortable with us."
Lucian could only watch as Adam paced the kitchen. "Hoss, we share women—that's what we do. Never had an issue, right?"
"Luce, that was different. Just sex, y'know? We swapped partners, we never took the same woman at the same time. I mean I want her—all of her."
For as long as they'd known each other, Lucian knew that Adam never had the luxury of feeling comfortable in his own skin. Adam managed to be housebroken and civil for a few hours, whenever Lucian arranged dates—but he never stayed with a woman, never spent the entire night with a woman. Now a woman lived in their home—and Adam didn't want her to leave.
Lucian placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, chief, I know. But we can do this. Trust me, we can do this."
"Yeah? What about her? Can she do this? Will she want us? Will she stay with us?"
"Hoss, I don't know. There's only one way to find out."
Excerpt from Hunting April, Book Two of The Men of Sanctuary:
Glennon turned as April tried to slip by. Without intending to, his body pressed her against the counter. She laid her palms against his broad chest—not to push him away, but to touch him. Her pulse launched into hyper drive, and breathing came hard.
Feeling inadequate, she tried to turn away. "Wow, sorry—"
He leaned into her and his mouth came down on hers, cutting off further words. Warm. Gentle. Tentative. Not demanding. His tongue slowly outlined her lips, and her knees almost buckled with the lust it stirred between her thighs. His arms reached around and pulled her to him—not pushy, not forceful. He kissed the tip of her nose, then each eyelid, before he returned his attention to her mouth. He kissed her deeply, and she felt such longing, such desire, in that kiss. She'd thought his mouth looked tight, firm—but his lips felt incredibly soft and attentive. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, gently sucking, then enveloped her mouth with a long, passionate kiss.
April hands met at the back of his neck, then she ran her fingers through his hair. Nice, silky. She enjoyed the feel of his big hands as they moved up her sides, then slowly slid down to her hips, to her buttocks, pulled her forward. She went willingly, unconsciously pressing her sex against his muscled thigh. His response immediate, his erection grew, barely contained in his shorts.
She whispered to him."Mmm, you feel so good." Her moan resonated in her throat. It had been a long time since she'd been close to a man.
Excerpt from Bombshell, Book Three of The Men of Sanctuary:
Before she could turn, strong arms wrapped around her. Before she could react, she caught a faint, barely-there aroma, the sweet woody scent of wintergreen. Her heartbeat instantly kicked up spikes on the chart.
"Damn it, MacBride, what do you think you're—?"
"Shh. Hush, Ms. Kailani Holokai Larsson, explosives expert with the incredible tattoo and who smells like wild honeysuckle. I did my homework. It took some digging, then Lucian verified, so I didn't ask the wrong people the wrong questions. You're the real deal. Impressive. John Larsson's daughter. Imagine that."
"The real deal? Is that right? Is that what I am? You are such a jerk. Let me go or I'll . . . .."
"For instance, I now know that both your names derive from seafarers, from the sea, the sky. You're a water baby, with the strength of the oceans." He pulled her against him, her back to his front, his muscled arms holding her captive as he nuzzled the black hair she had trapped in a mother-of-pearl barrette shaped like a leaping dolphin. "Damn, I missed this. I missed you, Kailani of the sea. I didn't know how to find you. I've been going crazy trying to dig up a lead, any lead. Why did you jackrabbit out of L.A.? Why bail out in such a hurry? Those were the best ten hours of my entire life! My God, it feels so good to hold you again."
She struggled in his arms. "I said let go of me or else—"
"Or else what? You'll take sexual advantage of me? Again?" He shifted to pin her with his groin, sandwiched her against the sturdy workbench. "Little hellcat."
She felt his erection through his uniform trousers, his stiff cock pressed against her. Damn it all to hell, her sex heated to flash point so fast any hint of common sense flew out the window. A traitorous groan escaped before she could prevent it. How the hell does he manage to light my fire at warp-speed?
His hands on her shoulders, MacBride tried to turn her to face him.
She resisted. "No. This way."
"What?"
"I said, take me this way."
"You're crazy."
"That's possible. Do it now. Quickly. Before someone walks in."
MacBride hesitated, so she rubbed her ass slowly, sensually, against his solid erection.
"Now or not at all, sailor boy."
Excerpt from Above The Law, Book Four of The Men of Sanctuary (coming soon):
The moaning finally nudged him awake again. Joe's eyes flew open as he felt contact—Glennon's warm, naked body had pressed against him. He kept still, listened.
The words rolled across the bed, low and husky.
"That's a girl, baby. Your fingers feel great, but so would your lips. Take my cock in your mouth, baby, you know what feels good."
Playing possum had no chance of success. At Glennon's whispered words, Joe's body thrummed like a steel guitar. His own sex stiffened. Moving slowly, he turned onto his back, laid quiet for a long moment, as his cock made a tent of the sheet.
"Joe."
Abigail's voice, soft as a caress. "Joe, reach over here, baby."
Ah hell, I've been found out.
Even though their bodies barely touched, he still felt Glennon tense up, go quick quiet.
He couldn't deny her. He rolled onto his stomach, took a deep breath, snaked his arm across Glennon's rock hard gut toward Abigail. His hand slid next to the other man's rigid sex and rested, his own member hard as a rail spike as his dick dug into the mattress. The clean smell of soap and warm man-scent overwhelmed his other senses.
I'm fucking with a Marine. One wrong move, and I'm bloody well gonna be history.
Excerpt from Aloha Man, Book Five of The Men of Sanctuary:
Leaving Zach's lips, Kamaka moved his mouth to Zach's neck. He nuzzled him, kissed him on the side of the throat, then under his ear. Finally, kissed the soft depression at the base of Zach's throat.
Overcome by the sweetness of Kamaka's touch, Zach couldn't bring his breathing under control. His heart would surely explode. Using his chin, he urged Kamaka to return to his mouth for another long, deep, kiss. Zach's lips felt swollen and sensitive. His mouth wanted more of Kamaka's attention. Oh, yes, more of that.
Kamaka slid a hand to Zach's ponytail, pulled the latigo strip from his hair, freed the long mane.
"Zachariah Black Crow. Man, you are so beautiful."
As Kamaka laid his open hand on Zach's chest, Zach relished not only the warmth of the man's skin, but the rough texture of hands accustomed to work. Rather than being off-putting, the coarse, calloused flesh titillated.
Zach inhaled sharply as Kamaka's hand slowly progressed down his torso. The sensuous caresses became devices of divine torture. The rate of Zach's breathing escalated even higher as he wished for that tormenting hand to touch him—all over. His first intimate contact, made by that man's rough hand. Kamaka's fingers passed over Zach's skin, leaving each millimeter of flesh fevered in their wake. Man, woman, Zach suddenly realized it didn't matter, as long as the intimacy continued.
As Kamaka kissed him again, Zach recognized the whisper of his past hissing in his brain as it attempted to trump the sound of hot blood pulsing. He feared the attentions would cease, while his body begged to be touched. He needed this man to want him. His nerve endings trilled with the real possibility that Kamaka did want him.
