OUT NOW! His Stepdad Wears Leather (I hit the button early, y'all!)

I couldn't wait another second. I mean, it's been fucking forever since I had a book. Seemed stupid to wait until Friday, so I hit publish a couple of days early.

His Stepdad Wears Leather
(A Daddy Tales Book, 2)

Amazon/Kindle Unlimited Exclusive

Running from his deeply conservative, religious parents, Noah Butler boards a bus to cross the country, praying the birth mother who abandoned him will open her arms in welcome. Once he steps off the bus near midnight, an aggressive stranger has him running for his life. Noah finds safety at the Village, a gay nightclub—the only place nearby open at that hour. 

Luckily, he still has that fake ID his best friend got him… and he looks older than eighteen. Inside the walls, he would be Christopher John Douglass and twenty-two—and he’d celebrate his birthday with the hot guy behind the bar. If the handsome bartender succumbs to his appalling attempts at flirtation.

Brody Preston takes one glance at the new guy in the Village and wants to know his story. There’s something about Chris that intrigues him. Brody can clearly tell the guy is running from something. His protective instinct screams within—but that’s not the only thing that sets the guy apart. It’s also the inexperienced seduction Chris attempts that has him charmed.

When Noah learns the bartender is the bar owner, he realizes he can’t come clean about who he really is. One-night becomes a week-long affair that ultimately ends when there’s too many questions Noah can’t answer. Again, he runs…

But this time, he runs right back into Brody… because they have a past binding them together. A past neither of them comprehended.

Be prepared for a sexy younger man and his loving daddy, with a little touch of lingerie and BDSM in the mix -- this 73,000+ word Daddy Kink book is a mix of erotic heat and romance!

Coming June 12, 2020 - His Stepdad Wears Leather

It's almost here!

Just a few more days!

His Stepdad Wears Leather
(A Daddy Tales Book, 2)

June 12th, 2020

Amazon/Kindle Unlimited Exclusive

Running from his deeply conservative, religious parents, Noah Butler boards a bus to cross the country, praying the birth mother who abandoned him will open her arms in welcome. Once he steps off the bus near midnight, an aggressive stranger has him running for his life. Noah finds safety at the Village, a gay nightclub—the only place nearby open at that hour. 

Luckily, he still has that fake ID his best friend got him… and he looks older than eighteen. Inside the walls, he would be Christopher John Douglass and twenty-two—and he’d celebrate his birthday with the hot guy behind the bar. If the handsome bartender succumbs to his appalling attempts at flirtation.

Brody Preston takes one glance at the new guy in the Village and wants to know his story. There’s something about Chris that intrigues him. Brody can clearly tell the guy is running from something. His protective instinct screams within—but that’s not the only thing that sets the guy apart. It’s also the inexperienced seduction Chris attempts that has him charmed.

When Noah realizes the bartender is the bar owner, he realizes he can’t come clean about who he really is. One-night becomes a week-long affair that ultimately ends when there’s too many questions Noah can’t answer. Again, he runs…

But this time, he runs right back into Brody… because they have a past binding them together. A past neither of them comprehended.

Be prepared for a sexy younger man and his loving daddy, with a little touch of lingerie and BDSM in the mix -- this 73,000+ word Daddy Kink book is a mix of erotic heat and romance!

New Release: Sacrificed to the Mountain Gods (Sacrificed, 5)

I've had so much fun with these Sacrificed books, so I was excited to return to them with a brand new story!

Always the outcast, Halfling Itari is the easy choice to sacrifice when the nearby mountain begins belching smoke and the earth trembles. He’s never fit in with his mother’s clan, his half human side making him the subject of ridicule. When he escapes, he flees into the forest—but another massive tremor causes him to fall and bump his head.

When Itari awakens, he’s in the company of two huge men. Sure they must be giant-human Halflings themselves, he feels a kindred spirit amongst them. Being part of two worlds isn’t easy; he knows that better than most. The men are roughhewn and beastly, yet he feels a savage pull—and a desire he can’t understand unlocks within.

They spend a night together showing Itari delights he never knew, and when it’s over, the two demand he yield to him. Forever. But with the mountain threatening them all, Itari knows that their time can only be brief. Thoughts of his family drag him from their arms. He knows he can save them—and must. Returning home, he holds his mother and brother tight…

And by the first light he surrenders to the gods.

Sacrificed books do NOT have to be read in order. They are similar stand alone stories built in similar worlds.

Twisted E-Publishing  *  Amazon  *  Google Play  *  Bookstrand  *  iBooks  

Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 by Kelex

 When Itari opened his eyes once more, he saw a raging fire not far away. Without moving his head, he checked to see where those who had started that fire might be. The longer his jailers thought him asleep, the better.

But instead of seeing Tertullis and Tartenillus, he saw two strangers tending the fire.

Two hugestrangers.

He searched them over. Both were dark haired and muscled like warriors. Humans? No, he didn’t think so. While he hadn’t seen all that many humans in his lifetime, he was fairly sure these two were too big. Giants?

No… too small.

Halflings like him, perhaps? He’d heard tales of others like him, and Itari wouldn’t be surprised to learn these men were human-giant Halflings.

A scent wafted his way…

His stomach clenched in hunger as he eyed the meat cooking on a spit near the flames between the men.

“Dinner will be done soon,” one of the giant-men said to the other.

But when he turned to pin Itari with a gaze, perhaps the man hadn’t been talking to his friend at all.

My gods his eyes are beautiful.They were the same blue of the pools up on the mountain. He’d only been once, to the huge waterfalls that lined the elves’ sacred halls, but they’d left an indelible memory burned into his brain.

The rest of the giant-man was coarse in appearance. His thick, grizzled beard and long, tousled hair gave him an almost beastly appearance. The man turned back to the fire. “You don’t have to feign sleep, little Halfling. I know you’re awake.”

Itari slowly sat up. He gazed at the other man a moment. They were two peas in a podlet. The other man was just as roughhewn looking, the only difference was his eyes were as green as the leaves of the pegastree, but no less brilliant. And on second look, the man’s hair was perhaps a russet color. It was hard to tell, as he wasn’t as close to the light of the flames.

“Who are you? How did I get here?”

“Ruam,” the blue-eyed man said. He pointed to his friend. “Torsten.”

“And my second question?”

Ruam eyed him over one shoulder before glancing back to the flames. “We found you battered and broken under the trees. We mended you and brought you with us while you healed.”

Itari reached up and felt his head. There was no wound. “How… how long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” Torsten answered. He handed over a pouch that Itari guessed might be water.

Itari looked up into that green-eyed stare once more, feeling almost lost in it.

“You mustdrink,” Torsten murmured.

After staring too long, Itari finally took the pouch. His fingers rubbed along Torsten’s roughened ones and their gazes met again… just before a shiver raced down his spine. The thought of those hands all over his body flashed into his mind, and his temperature rose a bit. Torsten was thickly muscled, his arms on full display thanks to the dark leather vest he wore. More of the russet hair dusted his forearms, and Itari wondered if it swept over the giant-man’s chest.

And then downward.

Itari licked his lips, his mind wandering to wicked things. He dragged his gaze away from the bulge in the man’s leather pants. Torsten looked strong. He looked dangerous. The thick metal cuffs along his wrists, heavy furred boots, and dark soot under his eyes only added to the mystique. Ruam was dressed much like Torsten.

They looked ominous… dangerous…

Yet he felt a dark pull to them both… a desire to be wrapped in their arms.

A desire for them to claim him.

Who are they?

And why did he feel such an attraction to two big, burly beasts?

He thought he saw a sliver of a smile cross Torsten’s lips, but that hint was gone as fast as lightning. Itari dragged his stare away and opened the cap. He took a drink and moaned—his eyes falling closed. The water was as cold and crisp as the crystal pools on the mountain. When he reopened his eyes, he saw Torsten staring at him. He tilted his gaze, and he saw Ruam was, as well. Their hungry gazes were bright with the light of the flames.

Sunday Spotlight - Evelise Archer and Eldridge’s Release

Welcome Evelise Archer to her first Sunday Spotlight! She's sharing a bit from her title, Eldridge's Release (Club Rebellion). Take a peek and enjoy!

***

A world Eldridge was meant to be in.

Eldridge Cristoff worked hard and rarely played, always leery of letting himself go after the humiliation he suffered at the hands of his college boyfriend. Best friend Isabella Catana, submissive and lover of Johnson Petri, invited him to a night at an upscale BDSM club, Club Rebellion-owned and operated by Johnson and his trio of friends. All dominants.

Dalton Peters has never collared his own sub nor had the desire until he met Eldridge. Dalton was immediately taken with the skittish man, deciding to make it his mission to release Eldridge from his sexual prison.

Slowly Eldridge realized the world he was meant to be in. A loving man and master at his side; he discovered submission was not a weakness but a true testament of his strong inner spirit.

With Dalton's careful guidance, Eldridge had no choice but to give into his desires and heart, allowing Dalton to dominate his body and soul.

Eldridge’s Release Buy Links

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Excerpt

Eldridge parked his car, popped a wintergreen breath freshener in his mouth, and headed toward the entrance. He walked up to the nondescript, solid black door that had no peephole, nervously wiped his hands against the leather pants, and rang the bell.

The building was located in the swankier section of Philadelphia and sported its own parking lot, which was a rarity in the city as most establishments utilized city parking garages or the street. From that, Eldridge surmised that the place had been doing very well. By the layout of the parking lot, he could tell the area used to house a building that had been torn down to create the space.

He shouldn't have been sweating in the outfit he wore. Eldridge was told -- no, ordered -- to wear his black leathers. They were soft as butter to the touch and so skintight his package was outlined. He also wore a white close-fitting muscle shirt and a jacket. He'd tried to get underwear on; even a jock, but the pants were so tight that any seams showed through, so he elected to go commando. He couldn't believe that he'd been talked into the outfit. He'd bought the leathers as a joke for a party he'd attended. They'd been very expensive, so Eldridge never threw them out. But he never thought he'd be wearing them again. And definitely not to a club.

He waited less than twenty seconds after pressing the illuminated button before a very large man in blue jeans and a black T-shirt opened the door. After stepping over the threshold, Eldridge looked up and noticed the camera above the door. He handed the bouncer his invitation with the club's logo on it -- a raised CR in black with a muted gray picture of a flogger in the background.

The tattooed gentleman nodded and said, "Good evening, Mr. Cristoff."

How in the hell would he know me? I've never been to the club before. Although they did have his picture on file from the background check that the club had performed before sending the invitation.

The bouncer, Sam, according to the embossed name on his T-shirt, pointed to the next set of double doors and told Eldridge to go right in. But not before placing a red band on his wrist emblazoned with the word Guest.

Eldridge was amazed he'd heard nothing from the other side; not a sound. The walls must be soundproof. What the hell have I gotten in to?

Red leather covered the surface of the double-access, and Eldridge felt like he was walking into an alternate universe. The problem was, he had no idea what universe he'd ambled into. At first glance, it looked like any other club -- people sitting at the bar, tables, and booths while talking, laughing, and drinking. Then he got a better look at the clientele. Men and women appeared in various stages of dress and undress. He tried not to gawk, but it was difficult. While heading to the bar, he spied a woman attached to a long chain by her nipples and casually strolling with a man holding the other end. Shit.What the hell have I gotten into?

The club was beautiful and sleek. An artist would say the straight lines and dark, muted colors enhanced the desired atmosphere. Almost everything was leather -- sofas, chairs, barstools, even the edge of the bar. The color scheme was black or white with gray or subdued yellow accents. The lighting was low but sufficient to give a secure and homey feeling. Mirrors and abstract art adorned the walls. Eldridge didn't understand the point of abstract art, but from what he saw, the décor went perfectly with the club.

"Piña colada. Nonalcoholic, please." He leaned forward and spoke to the bartender. He loved a fruity drink, and that one was his favorite. Chunks of coconut and bits of pineapple. Was a piña colada cliché for a gay guy? He didn't care.

As he took his beverage, Eldridge turned around in hopes of finding Isabella and her boyfriend. He spotted Issy waving to him before he'd even completed the turn and walked toward the couple. The two were comfortably ensconced on a white leather sofa with Issy perched on Johnson's lap and her head tucked under his chin. Eldridge stopped in his tracks. The couple looked absolutely beautiful together and completely content.

Isabella hadn't had an easy life prior to meeting Johnson. Afterward, it took time for the Dominant/submissive thing to run smoothly. Their late-night talks had given Eldridge an earful regarding Issy and Johnson's relationship. He knew his friend had truly found peace in her life, whatever the lifestyle may've been.

He made his way to the couch where they were seated and could see what appeared to be a stage. Actually, there appeared to be three raised zones lit with various degrees of lighting. The center one was subdued, but the flanking areas were lit. One sported what looked like a large X-shaped structure. If Eldridge remembered correctly, Issy had told him that it was called a St. Andrew's cross. A woman was attached to it and was being flogged by a very large man. Eldridge was too far away to hear any of the sounds coming from the woman, but if her expression was any indication, she was enjoying herself very much.

As Eldridge leaned down to greet Issy with a peck on the cheek, he noticed the man sitting on the far end of the sofa. Yum. Scary. Dominant. It was easy to surmise based on the way the man carried himself even in a sitting position and the way he was dressed that he was probably a Dom. Once Issy had convinced Eldridge to visit the establishment and after he'd filled out all the necessary paperwork, he'd perused a few sites on the Internet so he could at least know the difference between a Dom and a sub.

The club sported the lifestyle, as Issy liked to describe it. It was a way of life that for some unknown reason Issy felt her bestie needed to explore. Issy was a submissive when it came to her home life. At work, she was a total go-getter that took a stance on designs and implementation. And she bossed around even the largest men. But in her domestic life, she allowed Johnson to rule the roost; from Eldridge's perspective, anyway.

The only problem was, Eldridge didn't know if he completely agreed with the lifestyle. How could a person give that much control to another? Although, if Eldridge really, really, thought about it, the idea did spark something inside him. He was always in control at work, but sometimes he wanted someone else to take the reins. He wanted to relax, but it scared the hell out of him to allow someone else to rule.

Eldridge wanted to sit at the feet of the man at the end of the sofa, which completely threw him for a loop, and he immediately locked the thought away in the recesses of his brain. The last time he wanted to sit at a man's feet, he was told that he was depraved and sick. Damn, Ned had done a number on him. He'd done unimaginable things to him. Ned had turned out to be sick in his physical and emotional treatment of Eldridge. Not that Eldridge desired to be physically hurt, but he did crave more. As confused as he was, he didn't know what the more was. Isabella thought she knew what he needed.

He kissed Issy on the cheek and shook Johnson's hand.

"El, this is Dalton. One of my partners in the club." Johnson spoke as he pointed to the man at the far end of the arc-shaped sofa.

Eldridge crossed over to stand in front of Dalton. Dalton stood and extended his hand in greeting. The grip was strong and solid. His eyes raked Eldridge up and down.

El supposed he was a good-looking guy. At least that's what Issy had always told him. She called him man-pretty -- not completely masculine and not necessarily feminine. Man-pretty. At times, he wasn't sure if that was an insult or a compliment. He'd always known he was gay. When their classmates were looking at the opposite gender, Eldridge always looked at the boys. He loved the hard and delineated lines of their chest; not soft mounds that protruded and got in the way. Girls' breasts, yuck.

His family knew he was gay. He'd come out to them in his early teens. His parents were supportive and accepting even though it probably wasn't the lifestyle they would've chosen for him. He never brought boys home as dates, so his parents were fine with his homosexuality as long as it wasn't flaunted in their faces. Sometimes Eldridge felt very lonely, but at least he had Issy.

He wasn't the biggest, tallest, or most talkative in their current circle of friends. In fact, when he wasn't in the boardroom and high-strung from all the intensive work he did to keep his clients rolling in money, he could've been classified as a wallflower; reclusive. Eldridge didn't mind going out for a drink or two with Issy and Johnson or his coworkers, but he very much preferred to be by himself.

Finding the right man to date was hard. Eldridge didn't know how women were on the prowl all the time. His introverted personality made contacting a stranger difficult. But there had to be someone out there for him, didn't there?

Eldridge gauged the man before him with rapt attention. Damn, he thought as he tilted his head back to get a better view. Large was the first word that popped into Eldridge's mind. An imposing figure, Dalton had to be at least six-feet six-inches tall. El wondered if the size of his cock matched his height.

His pants became tighter than they already were, and his face heated as he continued to stare from beneath his lowered eyelashes. Hair so blond that it was almost white hung past his shoulders, held back with a leather thong. The strands looked silky. But what really drew Eldridge were his eyes -- cobalt blue, piercing, and the kind that could look straight into a man's soul. Eldridge shook his head as if coming out of a fog and composed himself.

That was someone Eldridge would want to get to know better. Eldridge didn't even know if he was gay. There was no way someone that large and masculine could be gay.

Okay, maybe he was stereotyping but he was most likely a Dom to boot. Some woman would be very lucky to land this fine specimen of a man.

But Dalton held Eldridge's hand just a touch too long for a casual handshake, and something sparked briefly in his eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Dalton."

Eldridge’s Release Buy Links

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About Evelise

Evelise Archer is a wife, mother, and grandmother. She is a new-found lover of tea, and don’t look in her office because what you find may astound you. She currently has twenty tins of tea leaves just waiting to be brewed for her drinking pleasure. She is bilingual, lives in one of the original thirteen colonies, and is a lover of the cold weather and snow. It’s a safe bet that you may find her on the beach in the autumn and winter, but rarely in the summer. She’s been married for over thirty years to a loving man who puts up with her obsession to clean—she currently owns three vacuum cleaners—, read, and spin a tale when the voices speak to her. When she’s not in front of the computer, search her out in the local gym.

Email:evarcher5@gmail.com

Blog:http://sexyforreview.blogspot.com/

Website:http://evelisearcher.blogspot.com/

Face Book: https://www.facebook.com/evelise.archer.5

Twitter: @EveliseArcher

Pinterest:https://www.pinterest.com/evarcher5/

NEW RELEASE: Sacrificed to the Gods of Spring (Sacrificed, 4) by Kelex

Hurt while scouting for salvage on his ruined planet, Berke Rylan runs across two other travelers who offer help. Unaccustomed to accommodating strangers in a world of nothing, Berke is hesitant to accept. But when he passes out from blood loss, he has little choice.

He later awakens, healed and his resources unexpectedly refilled—with no signs of the kind strangers. Once he returns to the outpost he calls home, the gifts the strangers have given him cause more trouble than they might be worth.

The leader of the outpost demands to know where he received them, and Berke has no answer to give but the truth. He isn’t believed, and sentenced to die… a sacrifice to the gods of rebirth and life.

Sacrificed books do not need to be read in order... they are loosely based on similar worlds with similar themes.

Twisted E-Publishing  *  Amazon  *  iBooks

Sacrificed, Book 4

Copyright © 2018 by Kelex

Chapter One

Irishi, an Earth-like planet in decline

Berkeley “Berke” Rylan climbed through one of the building’s many broken windows, avoiding the jagged glass that remained along the edge. As soon as he stood inside, he dusted his hands off on his pants and gazed around the deteriorating structure, listening for anything moving within. He could only hear the steady beating of his own heart and the shallow breaths he took.

It was cooler inside, yet the heat was still near suffocating. Sweat dripped along his back and temple. He lifted the small canteen at his waist and drained the last few drops of it before shoving it back onto his belt.

Pale sunlight shone in through holes in the ceiling and the holes where windows had once hung. What little bit of glass was left was either shattered by the earthquakes, damaged by roving gangs, or clouded over by lingering dust from the sandstorms that came often came through. At some point—before the oceans and rivers had dried up—trees and foliage had made their claim. Dried dead branches wove here and there, a remnant of another time. From past experience, he knew one touch would make them deteriorate and blow away in the wind.

Once he was fairly certain no one else was there, he relaxed some. The light streaming in deepened the shadows, making it harder to see into the corners of the rooms. Berke took a few tentative steps, scanning the interior as best he could. His footfalls over the layer of fine debris echoed around the room.

As with the last three buildings he’d come into, there looked to be little left behind. Over the last decade, the building had likely been looted and combed over in the search for any resources—over and over again.

The place also smelled of urine and feces, so there was a chance someone, or something, was holing up in there. He made quick work of looking for items of value. Room by room he moved, hopeful there was something left behind that others hadn’t taken.

By the time he reached the last door, he came up short.

His stomach growled, hunger overtaking him. Berke knew there was a small piece of jerky left in his pack, but he was saving that for his dinner. After that, there was nothing else.

Unless he found something to trade.

Berke eyed the stairwell, knowing the building was unstable. A trip up could be catastrophic, so he rarely took the chance. His stomach clenched again, making him reconsider…

Before he could take one step, the ground began to tremble. Instead of heading up, he raced to the window he’d come in through. As he jumped out, he felt the slash of pain. Hitting the ground and rolling, a cry tore from his lips upon impact.

Berke moved his hand down to his ankle and brought back fingers coated in blood.

Fuck.

Before he could investigate any further, the building began to sway. Berke leapt to his feet and scrambled as quickly as he could with a wounded leg. A wall of concrete and metal fell in his direction. His heart thundered in his chest as he scrambled out of the way.

The rubble missed him by inches.

He fell back to his ass, breathing hard, and thankful he’d made it out alive.

After a moment, Berke sat up. Looking to his ankle and seeing his pants soaked with blood, he realized the question now was how long he’d remain alive. Even if he could make it back to the outpost, he could get an infection and it would only be a matter of weeks before he’d be dead.

Berke dug through his pack and found his spare canteen of water. There was little left. Either he washed his wound to protect against infection or he saved it so he didn’t die of dehydration.

He’d seen that death before and it wasn’t pretty.

Berke stared at the canteen a moment, trying to decide what to do.

“Maybe we can be of assistance?”

Berke’s head whipped up, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Pain made him want to hiss… but he tried to hide the ache from the stranger. He reached for his knife and held it in his hand, ready for a fight.

Two huge men stood near, one much closer than the other.

How did they sneak up on me? Because I was more concerned with another lethal threat.

The closer of the two stood with his hands empty, palms up. “We mean you no harm.”

Berke looked between them. Both kept their hands up and where he could see them, but as hulking as they were it was hard to see them as anything but a threat. Returning his gaze to the first man. “What do you want?”

The stranger frowned. “I see you’re hurt. We can help.”

That frown… the look of concern… Berke narrowed his gaze. There was something… familiar about the man. He looked to the second. Yes, there was something familiar about them both. Searching his memory, he couldn’t recall where he’d seen them before.

Their size alone should’ve made them stand out in his memory. Berke wasn’t small. He stood eighteen hands tall… these men were easily twenty hands.

“I don’t need your help,” Berke said, his jaw clenched against the pain.

“If you don’t treat that cut, you could end up with a nasty infection.”

Berke eyed the strangers, his gaze moving between them. After it landed back on the closer man, he asked, “I don’t have anything of value for you to steal.”

“There’s nothing I want,” the man said with a smile. “Other than to help you… if you’ll let me.”

Give yourself to us.

Berke shook his head. Where had that thought come from? He shook his head, pushing the wayward thought from his mind. “Help? Not likely.”

“I know you’re not accustomed to the kindness of strangers… but we mean you no harm. There’s nothing you have we wish to steal. Your things… nor your life.”

Berke met the man’s stare… and he sucked in a gasp. There was something about him… something that made Berke want to give in.

Yet, that only made him warier.

“You’ll die without our help,” the man murmured, cocking his head to the side. “So, what do you have to lose?”

Berke eyed them both… they were clean. Well dressed. Well fed. They didn’t belong there.

“You have medicine?” he asked.

“A salve. Of my own creation,” the man said. “Not much medicine around anymore.” He pulled a pack from over his shoulder.

Berke jumped, lifting the knife.

“Relax… I’m just going to get the salve to show you.”

Berke’s heart raced, adrenaline shooting through his veins. He tightened his grip on the knife, hoping like hell he wouldn’t have to use it.

He would, if forced to.

There was already enough death and decay around. Berke never chose to add to it, unless there was no other choice.

Kill or be killed.

His gaze moved between them, his body tense and ready to jump.

The stranger lifted a tin from his pack and opened it. He showed the contents to Berke.

“And it can stop an infection?”

“It’s helped others before,” the stranger answered.

“You a doctor?”

The stranger smiled. “I’m a healer, of sorts.” The man looked down and knelt suddenly.

Berke’s gaze followed the man down.

His canteen.

Fuck! He didn’t have much water left as it was. If they took his canteen, he’d likely die of dehydration before he made it back to the outpost.

If I make it back to the outpost. “Giv—”

“Looks like you dropped this,” the stranger interrupted, handing over Berke’s canteen.

Berke stared at it a moment, ashamed that he’d assumed the worst. It could still be a trick. Luring me closer so they can kill me. 

Yet his gut told him that wouldn’t happen.

The stranger smiled slightly, and something unfurled in his mind. He still couldn’t quite remember why he knew this man…

“We mean you no harm,” the stranger repeated. “You’ll die without water. Please… take it.”

Berke met the man’s stare—his eyes an odd golden color, much like the hair on his hair and face. Inside those eyes, he saw no guile. No evil intent. A sense of comfort came over him, and Berke didn’t understand it. His defenses felt as if they were crumbling around him and he had no control over it.

He’s so beautiful.

Berke inwardly gasped. He’d never considered another man as handsome, but there was no denying it. This male’s masculine beauty was something to be admired. Praying he wasn’t making a mistake, he reached out and took the canteen.

The stranger backed away as Berke tossed the canteen into his pack.

“You’re losing a lot of blood. We need to get it stopped and cleaned,” the stranger added.

Berke narrowed his stare. He knew he needed help, but strangers were dangerous. He’d heard the tales of those who hunted other people as food. He didn’t like his odds. Two against one. They could easily overtake him, especially considering his current situation.

Could they be cannibals? 

The men did look awfully well fed. Berke was one of the best earners at the outpost and could still see some of his own ribs sticking out. I don’t have enough meat on my bones to make for food. They’d starve if they ate me.

“Where are you from?” Berke asked, looking between them. “There’s nothing around here for miles.”

The closer man smiled. “We have plenty of time to talk… while we work on that foot.”

“Ankle,” Berke corrected, swaying slightly. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

The guy cocked his head. “It looks pretty bad.”

Berke glanced down, saw the blood, and realized it was much worse than he had realized. Another wave of wooziness hit him. He lifted his stare, panic hitting him.

Calm down. Slow the heart. Slow the pumping…

He staggered a bit, the world shifting around him. His legs felt unsteady below him. The knife dropped from his hand.

The stranger raced closer, grabbing Berke as he fell.

“I’ve got you,” the man murmured as the world went sideways.

The other man moved in close, just behind them. Berke met the man’s gaze and felt a fluttering in his chest.

Who are they?

“Will he survive?” the second man asked.

“We got here just in time.”

“In time… for what?” Berke whispered.

The healer smiled at him. He lifted a hand to cup Berke’s cheek. “Sleep.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but lost the ability. Darkness took him.

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New Release: Sacrificed to the Ice God (Sacrificed, 3) by Kelex

English Edition

Kai’s tribe lives in a tropical paradise—one of sun, sea, and sand. A protective reef surrounds the island, the waters teeming with life and fulfilling their needs. Passing the reef is forbidden—an unforgiving world of ice and cold lingers just outside it. An Ice God keeps them trapped on the island, demanding one sacrifice each year as payment for their warmth.

Female after female is given to the god, never to return from his land of snow and ice. But the women of the island are growing sparse. If they continue to hand over their females, it will spell the end of their tribe. Their only choice is to sacrifice a willing male and hope the Ice God accepts their offering.

Kai has never been spiritual, so he’s forced to offer up his life to the god. Either he goes, or his best friend and sister will take his place. Kai accepts his fate, ready to die for his tribe. He surrenders his life to the Ice God.

Only it’s not his life the god wants.

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Excerpt

One Day Left to Live

Come to me, Kai.

Kai looked up at the dais, his entire body enflamed. Heat rocketed through him as he stared up at the Ice God. The male was large, muscled all over. The deity’s skin was pale, almost blue from the cold. He was completely naked, his thick, long cock hard with need. Drops of seed dripped from the swollen head onto the dais.

Hunger tore through Kai… a hunger he’d never, ever felt before.

Come to me, Kai.

Kai’s own cock stiffened in his pants. He was wearing layers and layers of clothing, which had already made him begin to sweat in the heat of their village. But once he made it to the other side, where ice and snow ruled, it likely wouldn’t be enough to keep him warm.

Yet there was an inner heat, a fire he felt stoked within.

Need unlike anything he’d ever known.

Come to me…

A strong hand ripped open his pants and then gripped his cock, stroking it up and down. Kai moaned, his eyes falling closed. Need pumped through his veins…

Kai’s eyes popped opened, his body languishing in a dreamy lucidity. He could still feel the sliding hand on his cock, urging him to the edge. His back arched, cum shooting from his cock. A scream tore from his lips.

He fell back in his bunk, sweat coating him. Kai could barely breathe, the orgasm shattering him. It was then that he knew the hand had been his.

Not the god’s.

He wiped his seed onto the blanket twisted about his limbs, confusion setting in. Kai had never felt the need to touch himself with lust before that night.

“Kai? Are you unwell?” came Nanni’s whispered voice from below.

Embarrassment tore through him. “I’m fine,” he whispered back, heat filling his cheeks.

Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she paused, unsure.

“I’m fine,” he whispered again, feeling the heat in his face grow. Shame at what he’d felt. For a god? “I had a nightmare.”

An erotic nightmare he wanted to lose himself in again.

“I know you’re afraid,” she called up to him. “I fear for you, too.” She paused. “Sleep now, my sweet Kai’toa.”

Kai stared up at the woven ceiling, the fear making it hard to breathe. A sensual need spiraled in him as he lay there, the need he’d felt earlier a simple precursor to more.

He didn’t understand the feelings growing within.

Lust was foreign to him.

He turned over and tried to rest, only to spend his last night wide awake, full of need.

Re-Release of Chained to the Tiger's Bed by Kelex

As some of you know, I had a couple of books published with All Romance E-Books before they went belly-up and absconded with all our money.  Yeah, I'm still feeling pretty damned salty and putting a hex on that bitc...woman... every time I think about her.

So, for all of you guys who already purchased this book, thank you and NO, there's nothing different between this version and the last.  It simply needed a new publisher and a re-release for folks who might not have grabbed it the first time around.

x
Kel

When Dylan Howell is handed over to a ruthless tiger to pay his father’s business debt, he’s sure his life is over. He won’t be used and abused as a sexual slave to the shifter, no matter how much he craves Jameson Ravensworth’s touch.

Jameson knows the omega lion is his from the minute the male walks into his office. The money means nothing to him, not when something he desires more is offered up to him. What’s ten million to a multi-billionaire, anyway?

Dylan struggles to fend off Jameson and his wicked lusts. The lion soon learns the depths of Jameson’s dark delights as well as senses his own depravity. As his body is tormented, he grows closer to the tiger, but how can he fall in love when he’s owned body and soul? 

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“I think I have been more than lenient as it is,” Jameson answered. If he didn’t collect on his debts, he would appear weak. While he had no need for the money lent to Xavier, he’d be penniless if he allowed situations like this to be ignored. Either he had the might to get back what was his or he lost all credibility.

“I will get your money to you. I need more time.”

“I’ve been listening to your broken promises for far too long. I want what’s mine. Now. Not later. You have until midnight tonight.” He paused, savoring the moment. “Or I take control of what’s yours tomorrow morning.”

“There is no way in hell I can get you ten million in gold by the end of the night.” Xavier frowned, his eyes moving back and forth in their sockets as if his mind sought for some solution to his quandary. “I’ll give you something in trade.”

“If you had anything that valuable, you would’ve already leveraged it to get the money you asked me for.”

“It’s not that simple,” Xavier huffed.

“So what do you have that’s worth anywhere near ten million?”

Xavier lifted his gaze. “My son.”

Jameson sucked in a breath, shocked the man would offer up his own son as repayment. “I do not trade in flesh.”

“My youngest son—Dylan—is an omega. You can hold him until I bring your gold to you.” Xavier blanched even whiter. “And use him as you see fit until I do.”

The words hung heavily in the air as Jameson snarled at the man.

When he’d first been brought into the world of shifters, sexual slaves were commonplace. Omegas had been treated as a commodity, fathers selling their sons and daughters to fulfill debts or make alliances within and outside their own prides. It went out of practice at the dawn of the last century, but was still known to happen on occasion.

Jameson had never before accepted a living being as payment nor would he. “No.”

“You must meet him,” Xavier said, walking to the door.

“I don’t need to—”

Xavier was whipped into a frenzy, not hearing Jameson’s words. He flung open the door and waved his hand to urge someone closer.

“Xavier, no,” he spat as Christof crossed the room to stop the man.

But it was too late. The young man was ushered into the office by his father. He lifted his pale gaze.

Heat slammed into Jameson the second their eyes met. The air was knocked from his lungs as his heart beat rapidly, thundering in his ears. Body tense, he had to sit down so as not to broadcast his thickening cock. Sitting was a sign of weakness. A growl rumbled up his throat as he eyed both men.

“Jameson, my son.” Xavier glanced at the young man. “Say hello.”

Xavier’s son frowned at his father, sensing something was wrong. He turned and met Jameson’s stare again. “Hello,” the omega said, his voice low.

Low, yet it still rippled down Jameson’s spine, spiking the lust growing within.

Christof turned and looked to Jameson.

One shake of his head and both men would be tossed from his office. He lifted a hand, stilling Christof.

Jameson stared up and down the omega’s body, tracing every detail he could see. The man wore a suit much like his father’s—off the rack, but well made. The dove gray color reminded Jameson of the morning jackets he’d once been fond of, a lifetime or two ago. A tailored suit would fit his lean body much better and allow Jameson a better view.

I’ll buy him suits to fill room upon room—for when he’s not in my bed.

The thought shocked him to the core.

He drew in an unsteady breath as Xavier closed the door. The breeze of air crossed over the omega and made its way to Jameson. He drew in the scent. Unable to stop himself, he purred slightly. Heat flamed his face at the sound and it grew even hotter when he saw the slight hitch of Xavier’s lips.

“Perhaps he is worth ten million after all,” Xavier said in a low voice.

Jameson stared the man’s son up and down, knowing that, once in his grasp, the male would never leave. Thoughts were racing through his mind, thoughts he never imagined would come to him. He despised the practice of offered servitude, yet here he was unwilling to let the young lion escape him.

Whatever it takes.