by Opal Carew
Here are some excerpts of Madelynne’s books...
Come Undone (Rock Hard #1)
Madelynne Ellis
On stage he's dynamite. Off stage he rocks her world.
When red-hot, Goth-metal band, Black Halo, split live on stage, fate throws Daniella Fosbrook into the path of sexy vocalist Xane Geist. Initially, Xane's only looking for a ride home, but Dani tempts him in a way a thousand other women haven't. Determined to explore their heady chemistry and avoid hashing things out with the band, Xane whisks Dani off to Monaco for a steamy weekend.
There, Dani tries her best to hang onto her heart and some clothing, while Xane soon loses both. However, Xane isn't being entirely honest about the reason for the band's demise. When the truth comes out, can Dani accept the facts, or will everything come undone?
Excerpt
‘Oof!’
Dani came to an unceremonious halt, with metal claws digging into her shoulder. She put out a hand for balance, only for it to meet leather – soft, supple, leather – and then hard muscle. Equally quickly, she jerked away.
‘Sorry.’
‘Just look where you’re going?’
She was. Leastways, now she was. Staring, in gobsmacked disbelief, in fact. Her attention fixed upon his lamp-like, cat’s eyes.
Xane. She’d walked right into Xane Geist without even seeing him. And … and … wow.
Her heart gave a fluttery drumroll, while her knees threatened to buckle.
Xane had always been her favourite. As the face of the group, he’d always drawn the bulk of the fans attention, but he was also the acknowledged genius behind their success. Up close, the magnetism that wowed audiences snagged her in the midriff and yanked her into closer proximity. He was … She had to touch her lips to ensure she wasn’t drooling. He was perfect.
Inky black hair framed his narrow face, the ends of which reached midway down his chest. A spiked collar encircled his neck. Dani curled her fingers. The memory of his heat still warmed their tips. His cheekbones were shaved as if from pure marble; his nose, a slender blade, above which his black eyebrows were furrowed. His crooked, kissable lips were drawn into a tight scowl that was further emphasized by the silver hoop piercing the centre of his bottom lip.
Two further hoops pierced his right eyebrow.
Beneath his leather jacket, he was dressed in a combination of rags and more form-fitting black leather. When she’d touched him, she’d hit a spot where his T-shirt was ripped away to show a painted on version of his exposed ribs.
Dani’s lips parted to accommodate a gasp. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to melt, too feel so drawn to another human being that she lost control of even the most basic functions. All at once she was too jittery and hot; molten with arousal and terrified and ashamed too.
Oh, man – he smelled fab too, of good old-fashioned body scent, liberally mixed with a spritz of something expensive for men. Now it made sense why women like Ginny went to such effort to meet him, and why they were prepared to throw their morals to the wind and romp like wild things with a total stranger.
She could even picture herself sprawled across some hotel bed with him, having crazy sex.
‘Are you all right? Lost?’ He sounded pissed off, something his brittle smile corroborated. Yet, Dani’s brain only processed the fact that his speaking voice was much softer than she’d anticipated, and lacked any hint of his trademark growl.
Realising she was still gaping at him, she took a moment to close her mouth. She wasn’t lost, just dazzled.
The painful bite of Xane’s claw rings restored her sanity. She coughed and straightened herself out.
Xane kept his hand on her shoulder. ‘Sally?’ he said, as he lifted the backstage pass to read her name. Even hidden by opaque contact lenses, his eyes were still shrewdly intelligent as he gave her face and body a quick, appreciative sweep. ‘Were you looking for me?’ His eyebrows arched meaningfully.
‘Yes. I mean, no. I was trying to get through to the arena so I could watch the show.’
They maintained eye contact, because Dani couldn’t wrench her gaze away.
For a split-second Xane’s scowl transformed into a smile. ‘The show’s over, honey. I don’t think you want to go out there.’
‘I don’t? Already?’
He rubbed his thumb across the part of her ID that said PR. ‘I’d stay back here. Safer, until you’ve a statement worked out.’
A statement! What was she supposed to give a statement about? And how was it she’d managed to miss the entire show. It wasn’t supposed to be over yet. Although now she thought about it, the roadies did appear to be packing up. ‘W—what happened?’ If she’d been an actual PR person she’d have been in full on flap right about now. The woman whose pass she wore probably was. Ginny ought never to have taken her card.
Xane shook his head. ‘Sally.’ He snagged hold of the lanyard again, forcing her to meet his gaze. This was it. She was busted. He was going to yell for security and have her unceremoniously dumped out back. ‘Do you drive?’
‘A car, you mean?’ Why was this important? ‘Yes. I drove to the show.’
His lips quirked up at one corner forming a rehearsed smile, which nevertheless had her creaming her knickers.
‘Good. Then you can get me out of here.’
All Night Long (Black Halo #1)
Madelynne Ellis
Three hot guitarists.
Two people looking for love, but too afraid to admit it.
One exhilarating night…
One night of rampant passion with a rock star, that’s all it’s supposed to be. Ginny Walters isn’t looking for love, only some sexy fun with an amazingly hot guy; that is, until she hooks up with Black Halo’s lead guitarist, Ash Gore, on the night the band splits up.
Ginny discovers a side to the womanizing, bad boy that she never imagined. Beneath his hard rock image, is a man so hung up on the possibility of being hurt by love that he’s unwilling to risk becoming emotionally involved. How can she convince him that the bond between them is worth exploring, given that she’s not sure dating a rock star is terribly bright idea?
Ash can’t seem to get Ginny out of his head either. She’s totally unlike the women who fan his ego but leave him unsatisfied. Ginny sees through the media hype to the scarred man beneath. Given that Ginny understands him like no one else, is this a one night stand he won’t be able to leave behind?
Excerpt
Having reached the dressing room, Ash kicked the door in lieu of using the handle. It achieved the desired effect, slamming the wood back on its hinges and announcing his presence in a way that couldn’t be ignored. Not that there was anyone around. Going by the silence within, the rest of the band hadn’t made it as far as the dressing room yet. They were probably still in the green room trying to figure out what the hell happened; why it happened, and if anyone could do anything about it.
Too late, he wanted to yell at them. Mr Geist has already left the building. The band is about to implode. Warning…warning…five minutes to detonation. ‘BOOM!’ He voiced the last part, causing a scurry of motion to his fore.
Apparently someone had made it to the dressing room, and his impersonation of a nuclear detonation had given them a fucking heart attack. He detected the rattily gasp, and watched the figure spring off of the couch.
‘Hi,’ he said, flashing the pretty dark-haired girl his best pantie melting smile. One he freely admitted was copied straight off Xane.
Hey, whatever worked to get him laid. That was his motto.
‘Um…’ The girl stared right at him, her lips slightly parted. He swore he heard her swallow. ‘Yeah… Hi. Sorry, I’m…’ She flicked her microscopic skirt back into place and straightened to her full height, which was still only around his shoulder level. Ash’s attention, remained fixed on her stocking covered legs.
No lies, stockings did things to him that he didn’t try to interpret. To say his heart rate kicked up a notch didn’t begin to
cover it. That, and these weren’t just stockings, they were fishnets. Fishnets drove him demented. He liked them even more than the seamed variety women wore with business suits.
Suddenly, his evening seemed to be looking up. ‘Yeah… uh… who are you?’
She swept her gaze across him from boots to waist, then back to his face again, before dishing out a dazzling smile. ‘Ginny.’ She extended her hand.
Polite and concise. He liked it. Ash accepted her hand, out of surprise as much as anything. Normally, he skipped introductions unless it was some industry bigwig, as they inevitably seemed to lead to a) a boring life account, b) a whole lot of shite about being his biggest fan, or c) both.
Total bollocks, since his mum was unquestionably his biggest fan. She might not attend gigs but she pampered him like nobody’s business on the rare occasions he made it home.
‘How come you’re in here?’ He had to admit he was intrigued. Normally the crew managed to keep the groupies away from the dressing room. Plus, they ensured that anyone hot and available had on a pink-trimmed back stage pass. This girl didn’t have a pass, or if she did, it was damn well hidden.
‘Were you looking for me?’
No he wasn’t being big-headed, just honest about the way the world worked. Girls only came backstage for one thing.
Xane, crowed the voice in his head. Women always wanted Xane. He scared the hell out of them, but they still creamed their panties if he so much as sneered in their direction.
Ash shut it off.
The girl peeped up at him, as if she wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Um…’
Ash clocked her gaze shifting from his face to the open doorway.
‘It depends…’
Told you, dumbass, his subconscious cackled. She’s after Mr Geist.
Fuck, it pissed him off that he didn’t come top of the Black Halo popularity chart, despite being the most obliging member of the band. Looking hot wasn’t everything. You had to know how to tickle their fancy too, and it helped if you weren’t a total screw up. Strange how the latter part never seemed to apply to Xane, who was the most messed up fucker Ash knew.
‘Depends on what?’
She flicked him another glance, this one rather more assessing than the last, which heated him up around the collar and made him wish his jeans weren’t so damn spray on tight.
This girl was just his type. Naturally pretty, with eyes like puddles of liquid gold, over which, two carefully defined eyebrows formed slightly quizzical arches. And shaped perfectly too, wide across the hips, and skinny around the middle, with those stocking covered legs to top it all off.
He swore, if she was here for Spook, he was totally going to lie about the guy’s sexual preferences, and thank you, God, that Mr Screw-Up Geist was already out of the picture.
Ginny tilted her chin up. A playful smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. ‘On whether you’re free right now?’
# # #
His Touch
The Surrender Series — Book One
Karen Fenech
After her life is shattered by her Dom, can Corinne trust another man with her submission and her heart?
Copyright 2015 Karen Fenech
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
About The Author
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Chapter One
“Kitten . . . kitten . . . kitten.”
Over and over Corinne Jenkins repeated her safe word, though her Dominant, her husband, Steven, was no longer near to hear it. It didn’t matter if Steven were near, she’d repeated it when he was with her and he hadn’t stopped.
He’d finished with her a long time ago then just left her here, in the cold, dimly-lit dungeon in the basement of the sprawling house. All around her were the things that evidenced their BDSM lifestyle. A rack against one wall held an assortment of paddles and floggers. A spanking bench backed against another wall. A St. Andrew’s cross took up a third wall. And, centered in the room was her Dom’s personal favorite and once a favorite of hers as well, a hook in the ceiling from which he enjoyed suspending her.
It was from that hook that Corinne hung now, naked, her wrists bound by a rope that was tethered to the hook above her. Her legs dangled above the concrete floor and without purchase to support them, her arms and shoulders screamed with the pain of supporting her full body weight.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her throat was parched from screaming her safe word. No one could hear her, as remote as this location was deep in rural Blake County, New York. And the one man who had heard her had ignored her. He’d ignored everything including her hard limits during this session and had left her bleeding. Now, her voice hoarse, she continued to repeat her safe word in a whisper, like a mantra.
She heard something. Movement above stairs? At the door that led to the dungeon? Was Steven returning? Corinne shivered with fear. More tears filled her eyes.
Bondage, the helplessness of it, had always been a turn-on for her, carried its own eroticism. In the past, she’d enjoyed being bound. Bondage coupled with an edge of pain was the sweetest of torments. But this had long gone beyond bondage and pain for pleasure and had become something cruel and mean and ugly.
It wasn’t the first time.
It had to be the last.
Since their marriage a few months ago, she’d been seeing something in Steven she’d never seen before. Steven had become abusive, wanting to hurt her for the sake of causing pain, rather than for their mutual pleasure. Corinne had never seen this side of him before they were married. She didn’t doubt that it had been there all along and that he’d kept it carefully masked in the year since their relationship began. Until now. She’d seen how turned on he was at causing her pain, causing her true harm.
She shuddered then gasped. Even that slight movement hurt. It hurt to breathe. Steven had used a bullwhip, something they’d never introduced in their play because it was a hard limit for her. He’d cut deep and the leather had wrapped around her waist. She’d felt a rib break. And still, Steven hadn’t stopped. A part of her that had loved Steven had broken along with that rib.
She held her breath but no further sound came from upstairs. Steven wasn’t coming back down here. Part of her felt relief that he wasn’t returning to hurt her further while another part of her feared being left down here indefinitely. No longer able to support her head, she let it droop and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she focused on the drops of blood that dotted the floor beneath where she hung. She watched them as if they weren’t hers, as if she were unsure of what she was seeing. Was she going into shock? If not from her injuries, then possibly from what had transpired here tonight that marked the end of her submission. The end of her marriage.
That brought with it more pain and no less intense. She’d loved Steven. Had committed to him with both her body and her heart but that commitment was over. She released a shaky breath and shook her head, despite the pain moving caused. In this instance she welcomed that pain for the resolve it brought.
She needed to gather her strength and get off this hook, out of this house. Her vision swam. Exhaustion and pain were sapping her strength. Draining her. But she had to do this.
The sound came again. Corinne’s gaze darted above her head. The hook. It was coming from the hook. The hook on which she was suspended was detaching from the ceiling.
Corinne forced herself to pull hard on it. Then again and again. Finally, the hook pulled free. Bits of drywall and white dust rained down on her. Corinne hit the floor hard. One shoulder took the brunt of the fall. Winded, she remained still for
an instant but an instant was all the time she could allow herself. Had Steven heard the hook break? Heart now pounding, she used her other hand to push herself up to a seated position then staggered to her feet.
She couldn’t waste time getting a knife to cut the ropes from her wrists. Gathering the rope, she coiled it until she could hold it in one hand then lurched to the basement steps. Grabbing the railing for support, she climbed the stairs. Her instinct was to hurry but she had to move slowly, not make any noise. Leaning heavily on the banister she made her way to the top.
The door was closed. Palms damp with perspiration she touched the knob. He hadn’t locked the door. But then, why would he? She hadn’t been in any position to leave.
Corinne opened the door slowly and peered out. The door opened into the long hall, well appointed with rugs and artwork. Steven liked the trappings of the wealth he’d amassed as a successful soft-ware developer.
At one end of that hall was the front door. At the other end, a back door. In between those doors was a multitude of rooms, all equipped with telephones. Dialing 911 from inside the house was a risk Corinne wouldn’t take. If Steven found her . . . She shivered. Fresh tears filled her eyes.
The front door was visible from the upper story. Steven could come upon her there. The back door would take her to the yard. The back door it would be.
Corinne forced herself to remain still, to listen for a sound that would tell her what part of the house Steven was in. If he was in the house at all. She didn’t know for sure that he hadn’t gone out and that was why he hadn’t responded to the hook breaking. Again, though, she couldn’t take any chances.
She didn’t hear him moving around and her breathing shallowed. Perspiration broke out on her skin as she imagined him pouncing on her from out of the darkness.
Corinne swallowed and licked her dry lips, fighting back the fear. She had to move.
With her palm flat against the wall for support, she made her way down the hall, looking back over her shoulder at each step. The walk seemed interminable. At the back door, she twisted the lock, then she was outside.