Rogue (An Impossible Novel) Giveaway

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Knight Deleted Scene

Hi y'all!

I recently unearthed this deleted sex scene from Knight (An Impossible Novel).  I love it, but it ended up getting cut because there were just *too many* sex scenes in the last third of the book.  This takes place after the *Tucker Incident*, when Lydia and Smith are in the safe house in Chicago.  We get a little bit of sexy Clayton in this scene as well.  Enjoy!

*****

Master didn’t bother to muffle my sharp cry as he drove into me.  He had allowed me a brief respite that afternoon, but he decided to sate his hunger for my body once again after dinner.  We had been taking full advantage of the privacy of the apartment; neither of us had worn a stitch of clothing since breakfast.  I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week, but I didn’t care.

Now, my body was bent over the arm of the couch, Master anchoring me in place for him with one hand gripping my hip and the other snared in my hair.

My heart stopped at the sound of the apartment door clicking open.  I craned my head back to glance around Master’s powerful body.  Clayton was standing in the doorway, his expression betraying nothing more than mild surprise.

“Hey, Clayton,” Master said casually, never stopping his steady thrusting.  “I’m a little busy right now.  I’ll be with you in a while.  There’s beer in the fridge, if you want.”

“Master!”  I protested.  My efforts to squirm out of his grip were laughably ineffective.

I gasped as he gave a sharp jerk on my hair, forcibly redirecting my gaze.

“Eyes forward, sub,” he ordered evenly.

My cheeks burned, and my fingers scrabbled against the cushions as I struggled to escape him, to flee into the bedroom and bury my face in the pillows until my embarrassment subsided.

Stinging pain bloomed across my ass as his hand cracked across it.  Truthfully, it barely hurt, but he had never stuck me before, and the sharp sound was shocking.

His fingers found the curve of my hip again, digging into my flesh as he reinforced my utter helplessness in his strong hold.

I whimpered and stopped fighting, giving in.

 “Good girl.”  He tenderly stroked my back, rewarding me for my good behavior.

To my horror, my inner muscles fluttered around him as my embarrassment doubled.  His soft laugh was pure masculine satisfaction.  I could almost feel him taking note of my exhibitionist streak and filing it away for later use.

“I’m still on the clock,” Clayton informed Master.  “I’ll make a Starbucks run while you finish up.  Do you want anything?”

My eyes flew wide at Clayton’s casual remarks.  I had thought he was such a nice guy, but he evidently had no problem playing into Master’s cruel game.

“My usual, please,” Master responded as he reached around and tweaked my pulsing clit.  I couldn’t hold back my humiliating cry of pleasure as I contracted around his cock once again.  My arousal at the situation was undeniable.

No one bothered to ask what I wanted.  It was as though I wasn’t even there.  I was just an object, an amusing diversion for Master’s pleasure.

The thought made my pussy burn hotter than my cheeks.

A strange whine escaped me at the sound of the door clicking closed behind Clayton.

No.  Surely I wasn’t… disappointed that Clayton had left?

Master’s hand stroked me again, soothing this time.  “Don’t worry, girl.  I’ll fuck you in front of Clayton some other time.”  He chuckled as I clenched around him helplessly.  “You would like that, wouldn’t you?  I would too.  I’d like to take my sub to a club and fuck her in front of everyone.  I’ll strap her down and show her off.”  His voice turned rougher, darker.  “Show everyone what’s mine.”

There was pressure against my asshole, and I drew in a sharp breath as his thumb slowly penetrated me.  His fist tightened in my hair, pulling back.  I arched in response, and my ass pushed back to accept more of him without my volition.

“All mine,” he rasped.

“Yes, Master,” I gasped out.  “Yours.”

His low growl was savagely pleased.  He began to pound into me in earnest, his ruthless thrusts alternating with his rapidly pumping thumb.  I flew over the edge with an ecstatic scream, and stars burst across my darkened vision as he came inside me, bellowing out his own pleasure.

Yours, Master.  All yours.

ROGUE Excerpt

Hey y'all!  I'm working on Rogue (An Impossible Novel) now, and I wanted to share an excerpt.  This is one of Sharon and Derek's earliest interactions.  She's an FBI agent going undercover at Derek's BDSM club, Decadence, to scope out the place for drug trafficking by the Latin Kings.  I love their chemistry!

One corner of Derek’s mouth ticked up as he turned his full attention back to me.  With the bar at my back and his large body in front of me, I had the sudden sensation of being trapped.  He was so close that the heat of him teased across my skin.  I shifted my weight on my stool, angling my body away from his in a futile attempt to escape that intoxicating warmth.  His twisted smile became more pronounced.

“I don’t appreciate being labelled as creepy, but I’ll easily admit that I’ve acted like a total ass.  Can I buy you a drink to begin to make it up to you?  I really can play nice.  If that’s what you want.”

The playful spark in his eyes held a darker edge.  That lustful light let me know that he would rather not play nice when it came to me.  And damn it if that knowledge didn’t make an answering darkness coil deep within me.

“As a Dominant, Carter is a master manipulator.  He won’t need to knock you down to get you flat on your back.”  Smith’s warning snaked across my mind, but it didn’t fully douse the unhealthy heat inside me.

Careful, Silverman.

“You’re being creepy again,” I pointed out lightly.  “But I do appreciate a man who can admit when he’s wrong.”

He laughed, a rich, breathtaking sound.  It illuminated his features, wiping away any traces of cocky amusement or frustrated ire.  He looked… free.  His melted caramel eyes were almost boyish in their genuine humor.

“You’re a bit of an ass yourself, you know,” he informed me when his laughter died down to a chuckle.  “Most people aren’t so brazenly impolite, even if the person they’re talking to hasn’t been so nice.”

I shrugged, but I couldn’t hold back my answering smile; his pleasure was infectious.  I might have been offended if it weren’t for the fact that he was right: I had been acting like an ass.  If the accusation had come from Smith, he would have earned himself a slap.  But from Derek, it wasn’t an accusation so much as playful banter.  He made the insult sound like an admiring compliment.

“I prefer the term ‘blunt,’” I told him with a grin.  “Maybe even ‘ballsy,’ if you want to be crass about it.”

“Oh, I can be crass, babe.  I like to talk dirty.”  He winked at me.

“Creep.”  My pointed accusation was ruined by my amused smile.

“Damn.”  He smothered his own smile, doing his best to school his expression into something contrite.  “I promise I can be good.”

His attempt at wide-eyed innocence didn’t suit him at all.  He looked so ridiculous that I couldn’t hold back my laugh, ruining his efforts to keep a straight face.

“Well, if you promise to behave yourself, I guess I will take that drink.”

“I wouldn’t make that promise to anyone else, sugar.  But I’ll make an exception in your case, as a form of penance.  Which is something else I don’t do, by the way.”  He eyed me carefully.  “Maybe Clara’s right; maybe you will make a good Domme.”

The way the lines of his face drew downward let me know that the thought didn’t please him.

I did my best to ignore my unease at having disappointed him.  I didn’t like disappointing people.  It was a reflexive thing, an ingrained response from years spent trying to please my father.

Shaking it off, I grasped at the opportunity to further my mission.

“That’s actually why I came back,” I said quickly.  “I wanted to talk to you about what it takes to be a Dominant.  Even though you pissed me off, you seem to know what you’re talking about, and I want to do this right.  Safe, Sane, Consensual, right?  It’s my job to uphold that.”  My lips took on a wry twist as I added, “No matter how creepy my instructor is.”

Derek’s brows rose in disbelief.  “You want to sub for me to learn how to be a good Domme?”

“Maybe,” I hedged, my fears getting the best of me.  I knew I should accept immediately, but nerves made me shy away from the commitment.  “I’d like to talk about it more before making up my mind about that,” I amended.

He considered me carefully for a moment.  I was struck by the uncomfortable sensation of being pinned in place under his scrutiny.  Did he approve of what he saw?

Stop that!  My entrenched people-pleasing would get me into trouble here if I didn’t focus on holding my own around this man.

Finally, he nodded, and I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Okay.  We can talk about it over that drink and then revisit my proposal.  What’s your poison?”  That signature smolder Clara had warned me about threatened to make me melt for him at the mention of his proposal.

Submitting to him.  Shit, I needed a drink.

That's all for now!  I am so excited to share the next story in the Impossible Series with y'all!  Release date TBA soon, but I'm hoping to have it out in a month, tops :).  You can stay updated on Rogue on Goodreads.

MENTOR is LIVE!

Mentor (An Impossible Novella) is now available!  Get it on the following sales channels:

Amazon
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords

Mentor will be available on iBooks, kobo, and Google Play soon!

Mentor Release Date

It's official: Mentor (An Impossible Novella) has a release date!  Get it April 2, 2014!  Check out Mentor's Goodreads page for more info :).

Mentor (An Impossible Novella) Excerpt

Curious about Mentor (Impossible #2.5)?  Well, it is certainly my darkest work yet, and it may not be loved by everyone who has enjoyed the Impossible series so far.  Unlike my other stories, Mentor is NOT a romance.  But when trapped in the dark, the blacker shades of lust can be confused for love.

Mentor is about the man we briefly met in Knight and know only as "The Mentor."  It is set in his past, telling the story of his relationship with the first woman he ever abducted.

To give you a taste, here is the Prologue.  This is from The Mentor's point of view, but the majority of the book is from Kathleen's POV.

Prologue
The Mentor

April 20, 1978

I slinked further into the shadows, concealing myself in the darker shades of the night.  My hands trembled as I waited for my victim.  The tremor came not from apprehension or hesitancy, but from anticipation.  Soon the darkness within me would be released, the pressure siphoned off.  She would take my darkness.  I would impart it to her, inflict it upon her.

I would be able to breathe again.

Seeking to still my shaking, I immersed myself in the memory of the first and only time the enigmatic pressure within me had been released.

Screams.  Blood.  Death.

Power.  Freedom.  Absolution.

I realized now that I hadn’t really been alive before that.  The dulling film of perpetual apathy that coated my psyche had dissipated as the light left my father’s eyes, his lifeblood spilling over my hands.  The world became sharp, my senses impossibly heightened.  It was the closest thing to human emotion I had ever experienced.  The pleasure that flooded me was the nearest approximation I could imagine to what normal people called joy.

But now the memory of that hyper-awareness – that sensation of being alive – tormented me as much as it pleased me.

No sooner had I disposed of my father’s body than the sensation began to fade, and the dim monotony of my detached existence began to seep back into me.  Now that I was aware of it, the dimness built, gathering slowly into darkness.  My darkness.

It coiled within me, slithering through my veins and rendering my very pulse sluggish.  It would overcome me, would consume me from the inside out, if it didn’t find release.

Killing again wasn’t an option.  I might not have a formal education, but I wasn’t stupid.  I wasn’t going to leave a trail of bodies behind and risk being caught.

If I kept her with me, she could take my darkness regularly.  I would allow it to consume her rather than me.  I would break her, train her to like it.  Otherwise my darkness would devour her completely, and I would have to find a new toy.  I couldn’t risk drawing attention to myself by taking more than one woman.

Kathleen Marie White wasn’t special to me in any way.  No one was special to me.  I had chosen her because she was convenient and she suited my needs.

Like me, she practically lived at the Hesburgh Libraries at the University of Notre Dame.  She had come here to study for the last four years, and even though I was a few years younger than she, I had been frequenting this place for much longer than that.  I wasn’t a student, but I had always found solace at the library.

The desire to avoid my father, coupled with my disinterest in mundane human interactions, made it an ideal place for me to hide out.  People couldn’t speak here.  The pointless tedium of social pretentiousness was muffled within those walls.

As always, she was the last to leave the library on a Saturday night.  The light of the streetlamp near the entrance caught the reddish facets of her dark hair, crowning her head with a crimson halo for the space of a moment.

My mind conjured up images of how I might draw that crimson shade from her body in other ways.  Something unfamiliar stirred low in my gut in response, and my pulse jumped past its normal tempo.

Interesting.

I had intended to use sexual torment against her.  Sex held little appeal for me; it would simply be a means to an end.  But in that moment, I understood its allure.  When used as a weapon, sex might be pleasurable.  The sudden stiffening of my cock told me as much.

I clenched my fingers into hard fists, willing their increased trembling to stop.

Control.

Control yourself.  Control the darkness.

Soon, I would control her, and the darkness would never rule me again.  I would be alive.  More than that, I would revel in the heady power I had experienced as my father’s life slipped away under my hands.  She would give that to me daily.

She turned from locking the library doors, and I caught sight of her face.  It was lovelier than I had realized.  She wasn’t perfect by conventional standards, but the hint of a contented smile that played around the corners of her mouth gave off a sense of innocence that was undeniably appealing.  Her deep green eyes were large, only further lending to that vision of purity.

When I had watched her over the last four years, her beauty had been obscured by unconscious nervous habits.  Usually, a small furrow persisted between her brows as she bent over a book, and her full lips were thinned while she chewed at a pencil.

I had chosen her for that very reason.  Drive and determination were evident in every line of her body as she studied furiously every day.  She thought she could shape her own destiny if she just worked hard enough.

But her fate was no longer hers to govern.  What she surely considered her greatest assets – her tenacity and intellect – were the very qualities which would lead to her ruination at my hands. 

There would have been no satisfaction in breaking a weak woman.  Kathleen Marie White was exactly what I needed.

No, it was more than that.  More than need.

Want.

I wanted something.  The realization was jarring, the sensation utterly new.  My lips curled upward in a semblance of a smile, and my hand was rock steady as I reached into my pocket to retrieve the ether-soaked rag.

I would take what I wanted.

***

Well, that's all for now.  I am so excited to share this story with y'all!  Expected release date in early April.

Add Mentor on Goodreads!