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Bubbles and Troubles
Prescott Woods is in trouble! A belly dancing lawyer, a stray cat of highly questionable origin, and a particularly malodorous gnome come to the rescue.
Carmen loves living in Charade, Kentucky. The quirky Appalachian village is everything that Chicago wasn't. Populated by modern day New Agers, Charade is like Mayberry with tie-dyed shirts, organic food, and incense thrown in for flavour.
When Calvin Prescott makes plans to sell his land to a high-end property developer, Carmen fears that the town she calls home will be changed forever. A new neighbourhood of multi-million dollar mansions would spell disaster for Charade's simple, small town charm.
Brock and his family moved to Prescott Woods over two hundred years ago. Like the other magical beings of the woods, they are immortal and imbued with special powers. Destruction of Prescott Woods would mean more than a change of pace for Brock and his kind—it would mean death. Brock can take on the appearance of anything—including animals of all sizes and shapes—in order to get closer to Carmen and save his home.
As Carmen learns more of the secrets of Prescott Woods, she finds that Brock is irresistibly strokeable, regardless of his appearance. She also uncovers danger, family drama, and the most luxuriant subterranean spa she can imagine.
Beds and Blazes
There's passion smouldering at the bed and breakfast in Charade, but what will it take to fan the flames?
Dora Fontaine, the proprietress of Charade's only B&B, enjoys sharing her ultra-feminine home with guests. From the red Blaze roses in her garden to the frilly lace curtains and antique tea service in her kitchen, Bohemian Rhapsody is a girly-girl's dream come true. She's not immune to masculine charms, though, especially when a burly, bearded, wild man from the woods comes calling.
Lowell, oldest son of the Rossi clan, crashes into her life like a bull in a china shop. He's admired Dora from afar, but gets tongue-tied around the curvaceous beauty. Sparks are flying and romance is in the air, but someone from Prescott Woods seems determined to douse the fire.
As one of the Fair Folk, Lowell has access to the magic of Prescott Woods. He longs to share it with Dora, but she's got to agree to leave all that she's known before he can reveal the secrets of the woods. If he can control his temper and bend the rules just a bit, he just might create a love that will burn for a lifetime…
General Release Date: 17th January 2014
Excerpt from Bubbles and Troubles
He was tall, lean, and corded with muscle. He slipped through the shadows like mist. Carmen chased him, frustrated, and called out. He’d disappeared into the rustling leaves, and she felt utterly bereft. Would she never feel his touch again?
She whimpered in the silence of the woods, lonely and cold. He was gone, and she was alone.
Then he was at her back once more, solid and warm, towering over her. Carmen leaned into him, overwhelmed with relief and longing.
"You’re back," she breathed. "You came back for me. I hoped so much that you would."
He cupped her breast with his right hand and slid his other down her belly. The skin of her abdomen warmed and moulded to the shape of his fingers and palm.
His erection pressed into the small of her back and he moved his left hand lower, yanking down her skirt and panties. Carmen’s breaths quickened. She reached behind her and drew him closer, gripping the clenched cheeks of his bare ass with her hand. "Yes," she whispered.
He stroked between her legs, teasing the edges of her pussy lips with the lightest of touches, before sliding his fingers inside. Carmen arched against him and felt wetness flow from her cunt over his knuckles. She writhed in his embrace, twisting her spine so that his hardened shaft ground against her lower back. He shoved his fingers deep within her, stretching her, and Carmen spread her thighs wide. She covered the hand that fucked her with her own, urging him to push deeper and faster.
Abruptly, he forced her to her knees on the woodland floor. Carmen caught herself with her hands and gasped to feel the tip of his cock nudging the entrance to her pussy. She lowered her weight onto her elbows and thrust her ass high into the air.
He entered her with one aggressive stroke. His shaft, impossibly thick and long, seemed too big for her, but her dripping wetness eased the snug entry. "Fuck, yes," Carmen whispered. She feared that she might split into pieces, skewered by that magnificent organ of his. It was a delicious, searing, perfect pain.
She flattened her chest on the ground, bending in two. The dry leaves rustled beneath her, delicate and feathery on her sensitive nipples, as his thrusts shook her entire body.
"Come inside me," she murmured. "Fill me up."
He trembled and stopped briefly, pulling out with elaborate slowness, and gripped her waist tightly. Eager wetness coated Carmen’s lower lips.
Then he shoved it all in, fucking her furiously, and came with a roar. She fell into her own shuddering, raging climax. The walls of her pussy contracted in rhythmic spasms, matching beat-for-beat the spurts of thick fluid that gushed from his shaft.
Carmen bucked against him, drawing out her orgasm, and scraped her tits on the leaf-strewn forest floor.
* * * *
Cock-a-doodle-doooo!
Carmen exhaled and pulled her slickened fingers from between her legs. Cool grey light flooded the room.
Once more, that huge stray cat was sitting outside her window on the ledge, staring in.
"Like what you see, kitty-cat?" Carmen asked.
The fluffy grey cat meowed, brilliant blue eyes flashing, and leapt away. Carmen made a mental note to buy some cat food at the store and try to convince the big tom to stick around. Recently, she’d noticed signs of mice in the chicken coop—she could use a good mouser.
Life on Carmen’s little farm meant rising at the crack of dawn, but she loved every day of her life in the eastern Kentucky country. She stretched with a satisfied groan and then used a tissue to wipe off her sticky fingers.
* * * *
"Come on, girls! Breakfast time!" Carmen opened the door to the henhouse and scattered scratch feed over the ground. Agatha, the dove-grey Silkie, and Bella, the black-and-white speckled Andalusian, trotted over and began pecking away. Scarlett and Melanie, the fluffy, fancy Faverolles, stuck close together and approached cautiously. The other birds sometimes bullied them. Carmen thought they must be jealous since Scarlett and Melanie were by far the prettiest chickens in the flock.
Gretel, the robust black Jersey Giant, sidled up next to Carmen. Gretel was as friendly as she was hefty. Suellen, the orange New Hampshire Red, worked her way in between Agatha and Bella. Spare Tire, the Bantam rooster, hopped down from his favourite black rubber perch and strutted around his girls. Carmen’s mellow golden Labrador, Dax, exited his doghouse and sat by Carmen’s feet with a proprietary air. He and Spare Tire had an uneasy truce. Both felt it was their job to protect the girls—the chickens and Carmen—and Carmen had made it clear that peace between her boys was the only option. Dax locked eyes with Spare Tire and huffed, then trotted back to his doghouse to observe the scene from the comfort of his cedar chip bed.
Rewind it all five years and Carmen would never have imagined that she’d be living here in this old cabin next to the woods, with six chickens, a rooster, and a big yellow dog as her foster children. Not to mention working at an organic vegetable co-op. Oh, and belly dancing. I’m a regular hippie, she chuckled to herself. City-boy Ian would be totally appalled.
Excerpt from Beds and Blazes
"Are you, like, banging Calvin Prescott on the side or something?" Dora asked. "Because I will never understand how you talked him into this, Carmen." She walked around the perimeter of the gazebo and clicked her tongue in admiration. "It’s like something out of a magazine," she noted, "but then, I guess the manor it’s attached to is nothing to sneeze at." The wisteria that grew over the breezeway was in full show and ruffled purple blooms hung down over the walkway like dozens of Chinese lanterns.
"Well, Calvin thought it was a great idea. He’s all for increasing his property value, and the pergola breezeway and this gazebo definitely do that. Besides, I’m pretty sure he got a great deal on labour and materials from some folks he knows." Carmen cleared her throat. "It’ll be perfect for my belly-dancing lessons, but it’s also a lovely place to entertain, don’t you think?"
The breezeway arched around the back garden of the manor, past plantings of lavender dwarf irises, frilly white rhododendrons and lilac orchids interspersed among beds of hardy Kentucky wildflowers. "It’s stunning," Dora agreed. "Good on Calvin for using plants native to the area, too. That man has a green thumb as big as a house. I’ve never seen such prolific poppies and trumpet creepers."
"Calvin offered some input, of course, but it’s Calvin’s gardener who’s the real genius. Bufo is a treasure."
"'Bufo'. That’s an odd name," Dora noted. "Doesn’t it mean ‘toad’?" She turned to Carmen with a puzzled expression, but her friend offered no explanation. "Whatever his name is, I’d love for him to help me with the beds around Bohemian Rhapsody. They’re nice, but I’d love for Bufo to come work his magic on them."
Carmen made a choking sound, then dropped to her knees to turn on her stereo. Sensual Middle Eastern music filled the air. "I’m afraid Bufo only works on Prescott property, Dora," she said briskly. "But I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment. Are you ready to get some dancing in?" She pulled off her sweatshirt and pants to reveal a charcoal jog bra and fitted Lycra capris, then tied on her coin-covered hip sash.
"Sure thing, coach," Dora answered. She stripped off her day clothes and donned her hip scarf as well. "You’re sure Calvin’s gone, right? Nobody’s here to see us?" She rubbed her upper arms self-consciously and glanced towards the manor. The air was slightly cool, but she knew that activity would warm her quickly.
"You look beautiful, Dora. I’d love to have curves like yours. Men are totally crazy about them. But yes, Calvin’s gone and there’s no one in the house that I know of. I need to see the outline of your body during our lessons, so it’s good that you’re wearing fitted clothes." Carmen handed a plastic tray to Dora and grinned. "Ready to practise balancing? You’re gonna love dancing with a tray on your head, especially when you get to create a flower arrangement to go on it."
Surrounded by the fragrant plantings and serene grounds of Prescott Woods, Dora centred the tray atop her head and followed Carmen’s instructions. Rolling her hips and sinuously waving her arms, she relaxed and felt the warm, sensual strength that enveloped her during Middle Eastern dancing.
From an oak tree at the edge of the woods, a bluebird flew towards the gazebo. Although its wings beat quickly, the bird’s path switched back and forth so that its progress was slow compared to other birds. "Oh my gosh," Dora breathed when it landed on the white-painted rail of the gazebo. The plastic tray clattered to the floor next to her, but the bird didn’t budge. "We have an audience, Carmen! I love bluebirds—they’re so sweet and cheerful!"
"Yeah, well, I’m sure it’s just here for the flowers and bugs, Dora. There are lots of birds in the woods." Carmen narrowed her eyes at the brilliant blue animal. She started to make a shooing gesture, but Dora caught her hand.
"It’s not hurting anything," she said. "I kind of like having someone to dance for, even if it’s just a bird. It sort of reminds me of that grey cat that used to hang out in the window of the studio in town. Remember him, Carmen?"
Carmen grunted and handed Dora her dropped tray. "Okay, you win," she agreed. "Today we dance for a feathered audience member. All I can say is, he’d better not poop on the gazebo or I’m going after a broom."
The bird ruffled its feathers and warbled sweetly as Dora once more followed Carmen’s dance instructions.
Lowell rested his chin on the gazebo rail and took a deep breath. Dora was, simply put, the most stunning woman to ever grace the planet. That long, thick, raven hair, that upturned nose, those lips that managed to be both full and delicate at the same time… And that body! By three hells, he hadn’t known a figure like that was possible. Muscular and firm, yet yielding and soft in the places it mattered most, and with a bosom and hips to make any red-blooded man weak in the knees.
He tipped his head to one side and watched her hips pivot and her full breasts tremble with each step. Carmen, of course, was watching and was far from impressed, but she was powerless to stop him. Dora would be horrified if she chased off a sweet little bluebird. He chuckled and cast his gaze lower, to Dora’s plump thighs, rounded calves and tender, delicate feet. A rampant erection jutted from his crotch, but he was far too used to walking around in the nude to care. Carmen had seen it all before, and it was worth a smidgeon of exposure to be able to behold Dora up close. He whistled appreciatively.
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