Seduced: Den of Sin Boxed Set 1

by Mel Blue

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  BACKLIST TITLES BY L.V. LEWIS

  Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever

  FIFTY SHADES OF GREY to the second power meets Keisha and Jada from the Block.

  If you’ve wondered how an ethnic girl from the hood might’ve handled an arrangement with an experienced white Dominant, this is your book. If you’d like to see the sexiest TWIN DOMS in a contemporary romance series in interracial relationships, this is most definitely your book.

  Aspiring recording studio owners, Keisha Beale and Jada Jameson, score a rare meeting with venture capitalist Tristan White, and are thrust into a world beyond their wildest imaginations.

  Street-wise Keisha is startled to realize she wants this rich white man, despite the certainty that he is out of her league. Unable to resist Keisha’s sassy, irreverent, and fiercely independent spirit, Tristan knew from day one he wanted her, too—as his first African American submissive.

  Upper Class Jada of the Springfield Jamesons has traveled in almost the same circles as the White brothers, and has had a secret crush on Nathan White, the point guard for the Chicago Bulls, for quite some time.

  Both brothers have succumbed to jungle fever, and want a little coffee in their cream.

  Lured by Tristan White and his offer of fronting the capital for her business in exchange for kinky sex, Keisha finds herself with no other option. Keisha is also tortured by a demons from her past, and her inability to come to terms with them threatens to undermine the future of her business and her tumultuous, unconventional relationship with Tristan White.

  Erotic, amusing, and in places hilarious, the Ghetto Girl Erotica Trilogy is a parody with a unique take on a Fifty Shades-type story that will take you even further into the BDSM world, and promises to make the vanilla original Fifty Shades Blacker.

  Exit Strategy

  The Highly Anticipated Follow-up in the Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy!

  Ex*it Strat*e*gy (noun) 1. A preplanned means of extricating oneself from a situation that is likely to become difficult or unpleasant. 2. The method by which a venture capitalist or business owner intends to get out of an investment that he or she has made in the past.

  Will Keisha and Tristan exercise their elaborate EXIT STRATEGY and end their unorthodox arrangement?

  Assailed by demons she thought she had conquered, Keisha Beale has uttered the words to end her tumultuous relationship with Tristan White. Separated, they grapple for a time with their personal demons. However, when their lives apart become unbearable, a credible threat brings them back together prematurely.

  As they seek to discover who is responsible for the threats, several seemingly unrelated incidents throw them into a tailspin. Will Keisha’s youthful indiscretions or Tristan’s un-reconciled feelings for an ex derail their tenuous arrangement?

  In the meantime, trouble in Nathan and Jada’s paradise send dramatic ripples that hint of future difficulties in the idyllic pairing.

  Nothing Ventured…

  Tristan uses his vast wealth and connections to correct a gross miscarriage of justice, while Keisha makes herself utterly vulnerable to Tristan and fears he has chosen to exercise his own exit strategy.

  …Nothing Gained!

  Will this be the end of the indecent proposal that became a fairy tale? Or will Keisha and Tristan reveal the trauma from their pasts so they may heal and completely embrace their relationship?

  Sensual, suspenseful, and still infused with the riotous levity of Triple-G and Fairy Hoochie Mama, the Ghetto Girl Romance Quadrilogy departs from full parody with a distinctive take on love, loyalty, sacrifice, redemption, and acceptance.

  ***

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  THE DEN OF SIN

  Thank you for reading the bundle! We hope you enjoyed the first season of The Den of Sin.

  To learn more about this series:

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  Reviews of the series is always welcomed.

  Excerpt from DEBAUCHING THE VIRGIN by Mel Blue

  Chapter One

  The Den of Sin was the only twelve-step program for Amelia Washington’s problem. Even then her chances of recovery were slim as she strode across the ballroom to the buffet table. The black tie affair had brought out most of the patrons who arrived early for the Bacchanal weekend at The Beaudelaire. The large pool of men to choose from for the night seemed bountiful and promising.

  Too muscular.

  Laughs too loud.

  Drunk…already.

  One after another she mentally dismissed every potential male who attended the wine tasting. The golden ballroom was decked out in silk, satin, tables and, of course, wine. The high arched ceiling had little cherubs and lush roses imbedded into the top mantel. The Bacchus event hosted at the plantation turned opulent hotel was her first. Not her first stay but…The god of wine’s holiday gave The Beaudelaire an excuse to celebrate the loss of inhibitions. The promise to every guest invited over the next few days to The Den of Sin: you could have any fantasy.

  Her heart thumped as she took a milli-second to consider the handsome blond man that ensnared her gaze.

  Too tall.

  She’d known the hotel’s secret designation for years, but never had the balls to attend, even just to be nosy. This was her virgin voyage into the wanton and depraved side of the hotel.

  The difference two broken engagements make.

  She glanced toward the buffet table, almost there, the spread of food best complimented the array of wine the silent wait staff held on trays. Someone had organized the dishes by reds, whites and champagne. The level of detail didn’t surprise her. Seraphina Gibson had coordinated the event. Henri Beaudelaire’s right hand woman was exacting, very much a perfectionist, taskmaster and up until recently, a workaholic. Somewhat like her.

  So seeing the woman inspecting the spread wasn’t surprising. Her hair was tied back in a bun, but tendrils framed her face. The black pencil skirt was…interesting. Along with the fact she wore a short-sleeved shirt with no jacket.

  Amelia forgot her nerves and approached the woman. “Everything up to your standards, Ms. Gibson?”

  Seraphina straightened but a warm smile softened her face. “Seraphina. I’m trying to relax and not scare the staff as much. But, yes, I was actually thinking I wanted some of that pâté. I skipped lunch.” The other woman’s gaze narrowed on her. “You look stunning. Why are you alone?”

  She sighed. She’d dug out the too-tight black dress in hopes that it would make the night somewhat easier. It hugged her every curve, dipped low in the front, practically screaming take me. First she had to let someone do just that. “Because we’re alike. We’re still working.”

  Seraphina pursed her lips and turned to the room. Her gaze skated over the throng of people. “Three.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve knocked your list down to three men.” She glanced down at Amelia’s shoes. “No. Make that two. The blond man in the Brook’s Brothers suit is too tall. I know you. I call you whenever I have trouble making a match. But that’s the thing. You know matchmaking couples who are going to be together forever. I know…this kind of matchmaking. The question becomes are you going to trust me?”

  She’d forgotten that about Seraphina. The woman got straight to the point. Dawdling was for people who had all the time in the world. She swept her gaze over the room and those two men she had her eye on eased closer to each other. Interesting, but not what she was looking for.

  Amelia sighed agai
n. “But I know what I want.”

  “And what you want is unrealistic.” Seraphina’s brows rose.

  That made her back straighten. “Fine,” Amelia conceded. “Okay. Yes. I should simply want a man with a big dick and stamina.”

  Seraphina’s lips twisted as she tried to fight a smile. “We can provide a bit more than that.”

  Still unsure, Amelia looked again and again she found fault with every man. That problem is why she was here. Spending too many years as a matchmaker had made her picky, and she didn’t put much stock in beggars couldn’t be choosy. She had settled twice and twice she’d been burned.

  After six months of a non-dating moratorium she was done being celibate. A relationship was out. She sucked at them and as her business gained more esteem, she didn’t have time for one. Was it a cop-out to focus on the one thing in her life she could do right? Maybe.

  But…she’d forced herself to come here to get out of that sexual rut. To be adventurous. To…find a man who wouldn’t care that she created perfect couples and couldn’t maintain even a dysfunctional relationship. Relationships required her to let go of control and have faith her partner had her best interests at heart.

  But sex? Should have been easier to pick a man to have that with, but this was her. She met Seraphina’s patient but expectant gaze. This woman’s work ethic put hers to shame. She may have only being doing this for three years but the matches she’d put together were intuitive and just plain genius.

  Amelia grabbed a glass of wine from a wait staff passing by. “I’ll trust you.”

  Seraphina didn’t even take a moment to preen. “Four o’clock, in the corner, looking a bit put off by the amount of people in the room.”

  Following the simple directions, she squinted and searched for the man. When she saw him Amelia’s breath got stuck in her throat. How in the hell had she missed him? Not like the corner he found kept him hidden well. He had presence. Despite the wary glances he tossed around the room, he had impeccable…everything. His confident posture contradicted his choice to stick to the shadows. Lush waves the shade of dark chocolate framed his head. His cheekbones and jawline cut at a sharp angle. The suit lines didn’t exaggerate his masculine form but on their own, his muscles made one hell of a statement. He smiled at some thought that passed through his mind before taking a sip of wine.

  She tore her gaze away to Seraphina who wore a satisfied smile. Amelia asked, “Did he just walk in?”

  “Nope.”

  Whatever doubts she had, fell away. If Seraphina said this man was the one she should spend the night with then she trusted her wholeheartedly. Well, that and the fact her nipples tightened the longer she stared at him. “Deets?” she asked.

  “He wants to learn how to seduce women.”

  Amelia found that interesting. He didn’t look like needed any help in that department. Alone but cautious, he still gave off a certain magnetism that if she’d seen him without help, she’d have been drawn to him. “And?”

  “If he passes muster, I’d suggest you take him to room 306 as a…precursor to what I’m sure is a lesson plan you’ll come up with.”

  Amelia laughed, because that’s exactly what she’d do. It was part of her issue. She hadn’t just shrugged when any of her past lovers said he had a problem. She’d put on her matchmaker hat and gave him tasks to complete as practice. Distancing herself was easier. No way to feel the sting of rejection that maybe her partner was having problems connecting with her. A catch-22 if there ever was one. How could any man have intimacy with her if she never let them?

  She was fucked in the head. No question. Why else would she need to be at The Den of Sin looking at a room full of men and rejecting every one without seeing the one guy that made her skin feel tight? This was her task to complete. This was her practice. Trust. Approaching him instead of the other way around could end in rejection.

  She finished her glass of wine, put it down on the buffet table and squared her shoulders. “What should I say?”

  Seraphina clasped her hands, stopping short of rubbing them together. “Say something that will leave no doubt about the kind of woman you are. He’s the…adventurous type.”

  That sounded interesting or could be ominous. She wanted garden variety sex. Not something that involved ropes, spankings and calling a man master.

  The other woman must have noticed her hesitance. Seraphina added, “You said you trusted me.”

  Sweat threatened to dampen her brow. “Do I need a key for 306?”

  “No, it’s a show that I think both of you will benefit from.”

  The answer sounded cagey and that’s when Amelia got it. Someone would be performing sex for an audience. It was audacious, made her palms get all sweaty now too…but, curiosity stole her attention. So whether or not the man went with her, she planned to head to 306.

  First she had to pick the man up.

  The best pick-up line was grounded in who you were. Who was she? A go-getter, personable, but she had the capability to laugh at herself. A wait staff passed by. She snatched another wine and closed the distance. Five feet away, his gaze locked on hers. Tawny-brown eyes. Attraction flashed through, but then his gaze narrowed, his hand tightening on his glass. Nerves settled into her stomach, but this close she could smell the deeply masculine cologne he wore and that magnetism dragged her a foot closer.

  What to say to a man in a situation like this? What would she tell a client to say? The perfect icebreaker encouraged dialogue. He didn’t look like the type to take himself too seriously. Catch him off guard and make him laugh.

  She sipped her wine for courage, grinned at him and said, “I bite.”

  His brows shot up. “Excuse me?” His voice was deep, rough.

  If she hadn’t already felt need pulsating through her limbs, his voice would have strummed that tenuous need. “You looked worried when I walked up,” she said. “So I decided to be honest. I do in fact bite, but only men who call me Miss Washington.”

  He ran his thumb across his bottom lip, hiding the sudden smile. She was right. He didn’t take himself too seriously.

  He dropped his hand and tilted his gaze. The quick perusal warmed her. “How often are you nasty, Miss Washington?”

  SEASON TWO COMING MAY 2014