Book 3 Facets of Passion
Genre: Romance, Erotic Romance, Contemporary Romance, BDSM
Release date: May 13
Danielle Sosna has no problem denying herself in order to achieve her goals—after all, that attitude landed her a dream job at Vogue Paris. But in New Orleans for one last assignment before heading overseas, she's faced with the most decadent of temptations. Seductive Cajun chef Bobby Prejean takes Dani's strength of will as a challenge, and offers her a night of wild indulgence—if she will agree to obey his every command…
Dani can't resist Prejean's invitation to join him in a world of carnal desire, complete with fetish costumes and masks. Determined to keep her emotional distance, she gives Prejean everything but her name. A night becomes a week, as she spends Mardi Gras suspended…in the delicious space where pleasure meets pain.
Too late, she realizes the cloak of anonymity has not protected her—and that chasing her dream might come at the expense of her heart.
For more Facets of Passion, check out Sapphire and Platinum, available now!
She headed toward the B&B, at first hurrying through the rain. As she splashed through the deepening puddles on the uneven sidewalk, her stockings soaked through. In fact, all of her was as wet as if she stood under a shower. Since her pace didn’t matter, she slowed, rain running down her face, sliding over her skin. A pack of squealing tourists hustled by, sharing one plastic rain poncho like a tarp. Prepared locals gave her smug smiles from under the umbrellas they always carried.
She smiled back. The rain might be cool, but the feel of it sliding on her skin brought the world into focus. A small discomfort, like her hunger, to make getting indoors that much more pleasurable.
She passed the Court des Deux Pendus without glancing at it, no matter how much she might want to. Up ahead, a man leaned against a courtyard wall, legs crossed at the ankles, an enormous black umbrella protecting his upper half, while his stylish leather shoes—likely Italian—were irretrievably drenched. Idiot.
“You look like a drowned rat, chère.”
The familiar voice brought Dani up short before she realized the stranger was speaking to her. Cautiously, she looked over her shoulder to see he’d tipped the umbrella back and was surveying her, an amused twitch behind that neat black beard.
“Are you following me?” She poured ice into the question.
“Now how could that be when you just came walking by? I should accuse you. Perhaps you’re a stalker.”
“Ha!” She barked out the laugh and turned to go, so not in the mood for more shit, all the pleasant sensuality of walking in the rain gone. “I’ll be sure to take a different route in the future.”
“Are you hungry?” he called out, lightly, mocking.
“Fuck you!” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Well, all right,” he said, from close behind her. “Though you’d have to do that my way too. Your place or mine?”
She spun around and nearly slammed into his chest. Backed up a hasty step and snagged her hair on the umbrella.
“Goddammit.” She tugged at her wet, snarled curls.
“You appear to be trapped.”
“Quit harassing me,” she hissed.
“In point of fact, you accosted my umbrella. Now, here. Hold this.” He pushed the handle at her and she took it, not looking at him while he used both hands to untangle her hair from the spokes. In her four-inch stilettos, she was nearly the same height, and his breath blew warm against her cheek, the rain drumming around them.
“Some temper you have there,” he murmured. “I can’t help but think that if you had something in your belly, you’d be a little sweeter.”
She decided declining to respond to that would be the better part of valor. That had sounded like an invitation. A tempting one.
“Nothing to say?” His lips whispered against her cheek.
“Let me go.”
“You’re free. For now.”
She started to pull back, thrusting the handle at him, but he wrapped his hands over hers.
“Let me make it up to you.”
“What?” Oh yes. Definitely tempting.
He returned her gaze, steady, calm. His eyes weren’t truly black, but a deep brown, framed by thick lashes any of her models would have killed to come by naturally. The gold hoop glinted in his ear and she was seized by the random desire to take it in her teeth. “I’ll make you something to eat. Something fabulous.”
“No?” His gaze fastened on her mouth and the moment felt oddly intimate, with the curtains of rain falling around the umbrella. “Let me feed you.”
“I’m not going to a strange man’s place—for any reason.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “I am stranger than some, it’s true. I’ll take you somewhere then. Buy you a meal. Maybe a drink. All safe and public.”
“You threw me out of your restaurant.”
“You deserved it.”
“You don’t know what I deserve.”
“Oh, but I’d love to find out. You come to my place, you play my way. If you give yourself over to me, I will show you pleasures that will keep you fed for life. A different extreme.”
Something about his tone, the heat from his body, sent arousal rippling through her. An image of the manacles on the courtyard wall slipped through her mind, taunting, compelling.
“Are we still talking about food?” She tried to sound flip, but his eyes glinted and somehow she knew he heard the desire in her voice.
“When it comes to the sensual delights, it’s all the same. Come with me for now. Let me give you a taste.”
She studied him, definitely tempted. Keeping professional distance was important, so she’d stayed in a different B&B than the rest of her colleagues. But it made for lonely evenings at times. In a week, she’d be in Paris, where she knew no one. Who knew when she’d meet another man this alluring?
“What else will you do?” he asked, as if he read her mind. “A rainy night in New Orleans is for sharing good food, a little booze, a lot of nice company.”
“I don’t know why I’m agreeing to this.”
White teeth flashed in a smile, outrageously sexy. “Because you can’t resist me, chère.”
“Yes, I do. Can you walk a bit in those sexy heels?”
“What’s a little pain, in the face of what you’re promising?”
“Exactly. C’mon, New York.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let me show you my city.”
Well.. well.. well.. Bobby Prejean and Dani aka Ruby Tuesday. They sure can cook it up hot, can't they. When the book started, Dani almost seemed snotty to be. Just with the way she acted. I soon realized it was all a front. As soon as I realized it, I think Prejean did too. They had a bit of a ..heated exchange and he saw right through her. When they run back into one another and he makes her a proposition she can't refuse, I have to admit. I was surprised she said yes. His promises of what he can show her, what he can deliver is enough to make anyone shake. And LORD HAVE MERCY DOES HE DELIVER. I swear it was like he new her body better than she did. Knew what she wanted without her having to ask. Knew what she desired without her having to voice it. He knew when she needed it rough, when she needed it loving, and when she needed to top. Like you can ever really top Bobby Prejean. Dani thought she could keep it just simple, just sex, just follow the rules. His rules. But with a man like Bobby, she couldn't. She tried to keep her heart out of it, but couldn't. He broke down her walls, got in when she didn't expect it. And she did the same to him. He let her in. Something he hadn't done in a long time. Then she gets all mean and childish when things didn't pan out like she planned and she is horrible to him. After what they shared, both sexual and emotional, I was really surprised she said the things she said, did the things she did. They had opened up to one another, really cared. So can she win him back or is it too late? I'll keep you on your toes... at least when Dani was kept on her toes, most times she had heels on. ;0) Check out this book and find out, I'm not telling! Not even if you say Yes, Please. I give this book 3 hearts.
Book 2 Facets of Passion
Althea Grant is doing fine. Sure, her Charleston gallery is suffering from the bad economy, and her artistic aspirations have gone nowhere. But she’s happy enough. When rugged metal sculptor Steel rides up on his motorcycle looking to rent studio space, his infusion of cash is more than welcome. But his art is raw, visceral, sexual—and completely inappropriate for her pastel world of watercolor landscapes.
Steel, fascinated by Althea’s rare albino coloring, sees in her the key to his next piece: a metal satyr that can be used for bondage games. Moving into her gallery basement is the first step; seducing the coolly polite lady into modeling for him is the second.
As Steel peels away her careful manners and tasteful outfits, Althea begins to realize her life isn’t just fine at all—it’s as pale and washed-out as the watercolor paintings she’s failing to sell. Can she transform her life and accept her most secret desires?
In the morning, Althea dressed carefully in a pretty pale lemon chiffon dress with tiny pearl buttons all down the front. She curled her hair and left it down, thinking it complemented the neckline of the gown better and looked nice with the wide-brimmed matching hat. She looked forward to seeing Brandon for a lovely Sunday outing.
Never mind that she’d spent a nearly feverish night thinking of Steel’s lurid promises. She had no intention of breaking up with Brandon. Steel could hang himself from his own sculpture for all she cared.
She clipped through the gallery as a quick check that all was well, then let herself out through the front and rearmed the alarm. Brandon hadn’t arrived yet, so she busied herself with deadheading the impatiens and lobelia in the window boxes.
“Don’t you look a picture.” Steel leaned against the wall nearby, decked out in his motorcycle leathers. He wore mirrored sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but his intrusive gaze consumed her nevertheless.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Taking in the sun, seeing the sights.” He grinned at her. “Gallery’s closed today, I see. Wanna go for a ride on my bike? You’d have to change, though—that skirt would be up over your head in no time. Not that I would mind. In fact the image of you offers some interesting—”
“I have a date,” she snapped.
He raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess—Sunday brunch. How…sweet.”
“I happen to like brunch.”
“And did you like staying home alone on Saturday night?”
“I had a long day, working,” she emphasized. “I preferred some time to unwind.”
He chuckled at that. “Princess, I have no doubt that you could use some unwinding, but I could suggest a dozen more interesting ways to do it. For example, we could start with—”
“I’m not interested.” She cut him off again and turned back to picking off the dried and wilted blossoms.
“You don’t act like a woman who’s not interested.”
“I’ve decided to stick with Brandon. I’m declining your…offer. Not that I seriously considered it. At all.”
“Brandon?” He drew the name out, baaing on the “a” sound like a sheep.
“Oh stop. It’s a perfectly fine name.”
“You think so? Brandon? Sounds like a Momma’s boy to me.”
“Not every guy has a noun for a name.”
“Not unless he’s bold and manly like me.” He winked and she laughed before she caught herself, but with her face still turned down to the window box, he might not have heard. “I notice you never say my name.”
“Sure I do. Steel refinery. Stainless steel silverware. Calphalon steel pans. I say it all the time.”
“I want to hear you gasping it out while I’m riding you,” he spoke from just behind her, in a quiet, intense voice.
She whirled around and had to take a step back, he was so close. “I don’t want you talking to me that way.”
“I think you like it.”
“I don’t.” But her voice faltered.
“I think Brandon treats you like a lady. I bet, when he bothers to pay attention to you, that he ‘makes love’ to you. All clean and polite-like. Sunday brunch sex. Am I right?”
She focused on the prominent Adam’s apple in his tanned throat. He was all over stubble again. She wondered how the scratchiness would feel.
“There’s nothing wrong with love-making.”
“No,” he agreed, and he smiled when she glanced up in surprise. “There’s a place for that too. Long afternoons, lace curtains and taking each other in long, luxurious, slow licks of pleasure.” He stroked her cheek. “I can be into that too. But I’m offering something the Brandons of the world won’t. I think there’s a very dirty girl under all that lovely lady exterior. The one who gets juiced just looking at my art. Who wants it hard and hot and maybe just a little rough. Tell me, has any man dared to tie you up with your legs spread wide, so he could have his way with you?”
She gaped at him and he leaned in. Whispered in her ear.
“I would. One word from you, princess, and I will.”
“Is this your idea of luring me?” She tried to sound indignant, but it came out breathless.
“Absolutely.” He flashed her his wicked grin. “And it’s working too.”
Book 1 Facets of Passion
By Jeffe Kennedy
Publisher: Carina Press
A successful executive, M. Taylor Hamilton is on track with her ten-year plan. Too bad her personal life consists of hitting the gym and grocery shopping. Enter the seductive Adam Kirliss. They may have a working relationship, but everything changes at an office party when he handcuffs her to the rail of a yacht. Taylor writes the adventure off as too much champagne, but when Adam challenges her to a date, she agrees to meet up with him. And follow his rules. They share a night of exquisite intimacy, brimming with both pain and pleasure. But afterwards, fearful of losing her heart, Taylor pulls back emotionally. Adam is determined to prove that she longs for the loss of control he can give her – and the passionate release it provides. How can he make her see that he wants her, and not just her body?
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“This is silly,” she tried.“Do you want me to make you stay?”
“What?” Taylor choked. She couldn’t let him treat her this way. “No! You’ll do no such—”
She lost her breath entirely when he pressed up against her. Thinking he was trying to embrace her, she pulled away and found herself backed against the brass railing.
By the time she gathered her flustered thoughts, her wrists were handcuffed to the rail behind her. Mortified, a bit afraid and—worse—suddenly and wildly aroused…
Holy hot sauce. Looking for 100 pages of pure erotica goodness? I think I found what you need. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me" played through my head while reading this book. Now now now .. come on... Right.. sorry. Now keep in mind this is a shorter book, so we don't have too much of an in depth look at both characters. Taylor, yes. Adam, not really. Which is okay. Surprisingly the way this is written its okay. There were things in this book that surprised me. I read bdsm and erotica and some of the things in here... intrigued me. For example, the phallus surprised me. It was a first. I may have to do a little more research on this.. strictly for research, of course. Like with Taylor, I was a Virgin for that too Adam. Well done. Adam has to strip Taylor done emotionally to be with her. To do that he has to take her choices away to get in through the ice fortress she has built around her. He forces her, forces her to accept what she likes. Forces her to take a look at her self. And forces her to open up to him and what it would be like between them. Of course, who doesn't start a relationship off by handcuffing someone to a yacht and giving the other person an insane orgasm? Holy crap balls Kirliss. Holy crap balls. This was one hot steamy read. I give it 3.5 hearts
About the Author:
Jeffe Kennedy took the crooked road to writing, stopping off at neurobiology, religious studies and environmental consulting before her creative writing began appearing in places like Redbook, Puerto del Sol, Wyoming Wildlife, Under the Sun and Aeon. An erotic novella, Petals and Thorns, came out under her pen name of Jennifer Paris in 2010, heralding yet another branch of her path, into erotica and romantic fantasy fiction. Since then, an erotic short, Feeding the Vampire, and another erotic novella, Sapphire, have hit the shelves.
Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, with two Maine coon cats, a border collie, plentiful free-range lizards and frequently serves as a guinea pig for an acupuncturist-in-training. Find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Author.Jeffe.Kennedy and Twitter (@jeffekennedy) or visit her at her website http://jeffekennedy.com/.