Woohoo! Hello everyone,
I'm celebrating some excellent news. Not only is it Friday, the weekend has arrived, football is coming up this weekend, and I'm a quarter finished my current WIP, featuring the youngest Maddox brother, Taran and his elusive switch, Detective Samantha Riley, Cuff Master received an excellent 5 Nymph review from Literary Nymphs Reviews!
Here's the link if you'd like to read what Amazon Nymph had to say:
http://literarynymphsreviewsonly.blogspot.com/2012/11/cuff-master.html?zx=5087bfe9e335236
For more information about Cuff Master, visit my website,
http://www.francesstockton.com, my author page at Ellora's Cave,
http://www.jasminejade.com/m-527-frances-stockton.aspx, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble or any of the ebook vendors for Kobo or Sony readers! Links to all of the above are on the home page of my website!
So happy to know that Amazon Nymph enjoyed reading Cuff Master and I sure hope you'll give Detective Ethan Maddox and his shy submissive, Morgan Everhart, the chance to win you over, too. For an excerpt: scroll down:
http://www.jasminejade.com/productspecs/9781419941566.htm
“Is there
any woman more beautiful than Morgan Everhart?” Ethan Maddox asked his older
brother in a hushed voice.
Not that
there was a need to whisper. Music playing overhead covered the conversation
perfectly and the entire restaurant of Druid Creek Castle Bed and Breakfast had
been turned into a ballroom for Phalen and Cassie’s
wedding reception.
“Frankly,
I think my wife is the most beautiful woman I know,” Phalen answered. “But Morgan’s a knockout. Why not get off
your ass and ask her to dance, bro?”
Ethan
would rather take Morgan somewhere private and appreciate the way she looked in
her dark-green halter-style velvet gown that hugged her tall willowy form
perfectly. The narrow side-slit running from her ankle to her upper thigh gave
an occasional glimpse of svelte legs that could surely wrap around a man’s waist
for hours.
Her bare
shoulders and long slender neck made him want to nip and lick all that exposed
creamy soft skin, especially the gentle V of her cleavage, which accented perky
breasts that weren’t overly large, but perfectly proportioned for her tall
slender frame.
At a
guess, he’d say she was a B-cup. He was good with that, already imagining all
the ways to suckle on her perky nipples.
Her
dark-auburn hair tended to look brown when it was down and in her face. Tonight
it was pulled into some kind of fancy up-do. Pretty ringlets cascaded down to
showcase a face that could have graced any high-fashion magazine. A guy could
get lost in hair that when left long fell to her ass.
Currently,
his new sister-in-law and the maid of honor were drawing people onto the dance
floor, including football players and Cassie’s family. As Ethan was Phalen’s best man, it seemed unfair that he had to stand
back and watch Morgan make some kind of dance with me gesture to a guy with long
black and red-streaked hair.
It didn’t
help that Morgan, who was normally shy around strangers, was perfectly at ease
with the other man or that he looked vaguely familiar.
“Still
with me, Ethan?” Phalen asked, nudging him back to the
present. “Go ask Morgan to dance.”
“She’ll
just say no. She’s still pissed at me for what happened six fucking months ago.”
He had noticed the occasional glance in his direction. Each time he looked back,
she’d scowl and turn away.
“You’ll
never know if you stand here doing nothing. As it is, she might dance with that
black-haired dude. You want that?”
“Who is
that guy? If I’m going to punch him in the nose for touching what’s mine, I
might as well know.”
“Name’s
Remington Sinclair, goes by Remy,” Phalen answered.
“He’s a friend of Morgan’s from that ghost hunting reality TV show that’s taken
New England by storm recently. They’re all
here. Cassie invited them on Morgan’s behalf.”
“Sinclair’s a local celebrity,”
Ethan complained.
“Yep, but
if you hit him, he’ll hit back, and then there’s going to be a fight that I
can’t avoid. Think my wife wants to deal with that on our wedding
night?”
“No, I’ll
avoid trouble, don’t worry. Except…if I dance with her, I won’t let go. Know
what I mean?”
“If you
want her, claim her. Just don’t hold too tightly or flip out when she does her
psychic thing. You do, she’ll bolt.”
“She’s
been doing that since I fucked up that night she passed out in Cassie’s diner.
She’s blocked me from texting her and she doesn’t return my
calls.”
“Cassie
told me that Morgan can’t read you and it’s something she’s never known with
another man. That scares her. Maybe there’s a reason for
it.”
“What kind
of reason? As if I’m her soul mate or something?”
“Something
like that, yeah.”
“That
belongs in one of those vampire novels Morgan likes to read,” Ethan
said.
Phalen clapped his big hand on Ethan’s
shoulder. At six-five, he was the same height as his older brother. A lot of
people thought he was shorter because Phalen was a tad
more muscular and slightly broader at the shoulders.
“How do
you know what she likes to read?” Phalen asked,
squeezing his hand to bring Ethan back to the
conversation.
“I don’t
know. I just know it as strongly as I know she also reads books on history,
antiques and archaeology. She does so to follow up on impressions she gets on
objects.”
“Then
maybe you do believe in her gift after all?”
“Sam Riley
and I listened to a psychic once. It led to a botched case and eight dead girls,
including the one we were supposed to save!”
“A lot of
psychics are full of shit. Morgan’s the real deal. Go talk to her. She wants you
to. She keeps looking over here.”
Phalen gave Ethan a none-too-gentle shove
toward the dance floor. With that, he was across the floor, sent off Remy
Sinclair with a glare and the music switched to something slow and
subtle.
Approaching her seemed as natural
as breathing. “May I have this next dance, Morgan?” he asked, offering his hand
to her and hoping to God she accepted it. Every dominant male instinct he
possessed screamed for him to grab her up off the dance floor and head for the
nearest room upstairs
“Your
obligation as the best man ended with the toast,” she said, her gorgeous
chocolate-brown eyes luminous from the glow of twinkling white lights strewn
about the room.
“My
obligation as your man began when I kissed you awake months ago,” he countered
the moment Morgan placed her hand in his.
Tightening
his hold ever so slightly, he drew her to the middle of the dance floor and
gently brought her closer. She flowed forward, her gracefulness evident
regardless of the fashionable narrow heels she wore on her
feet.
Even
though she was five-ten and her shoes gave her two inches more height, he was
taller, altogether bigger and he felt as powerful as a Celtic god with her
slighter, subtle curves pressed up against his hard muscular
body.
She was
soft. He was hard. She was sweet. He was enthralled.
“For the
record, I’m not an obligation, Ethan Maddox,” Morgan stated, even as she settled
in closer.
Jesus, she
smelled like jasmine, all spicy and exotic and tempting. Her lips, painted with
just the right amount of rosy lipstick, were perfectly plump and bow-shaped. It
was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there.
“Denial
will only work for so long,” he said. “Feel how right it is for us to be this
close? Tell me you don’t want to be in my arms and I’ll let you
go.”
Morgan
stared up at him. His more dominant personality wanted to challenge her to see
exactly how long she’d stare back and who’d break first. It wasn’t going to be
him.
He
recognized a submissive when he saw one. When she wasn’t aware of it, he’d heard
Cassie and Morgan confiding in each other as only best friends could. He spied
the longing in her eyes whenever Phalen took Cassie to
the basement of Ink Masters.
Ethan knew
in his gut that Morgan was meant to be his submissive and that scared her just
as much as her inability to read him. If she consented to enter a dungeon, it
would be with him as her Master.
“I don’t
want you to let me go,” Morgan finally admitted, breaking eye contact to look
beyond his shoulder as a submissive flush stole over her high cheekbones. Her
exotic chocolate eyes, flawless skin, kissable lips and hairstyle reminded him
of a mystical elf straight out of a Tolkien novel.
Ask him
later what song was playing, he’d have no idea. All he cared about was having
Morgan nestled up nice and close. Her breath was as sweet as spearmint and the
green crystal pendant she wore between the swell of her breasts tagged him in
the sternum from time to time.
The
pendant got warm from their combined body heat. The warmer he felt, the hotter
his groin was, the heavier his erection became. If he wasn’t careful, Morgan
would unman him without even breaking a sweat.
“Put your
arms around me,” Ethan urged, realizing she’d been waiting for his permission to
touch him back. She may not have been aware of it, but she’d just passed a test
that made him want her even more.
Blushing
prettily, Morgan lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders. “Like this,
Detective?”
“Yeah,
that’s nice,” Ethan said.
“I’m
better at fast dancing than slow dancing,” she admitted
quietly.
“Thread
your fingers behind my neck.” Her hands left his shoulders and cupped the back
of his neck exactly as he’d asked. “That’s it, like that.”
His heart
skipped a few beats when she smiled earnestly. She was so damn pretty, he was
smitten. No other word seemed right, smitten was it.
“Surely
you know how to dance with me, Morgan. You danced with a bunch of football
players at Grace and Dallas McKay’s wedding and most of the guests here tonight.
You move very well.”
“I didn’t
slow dance with any of them,” she murmured shyly, casting her eyes right to the
floor.
“What’s
that? Look at me and say it so I can hear you properly.”
Obediently, she lifted her chin,
her eyes connecting with his. Nervously, she nibbled on her lower lip and he
swore she’d just kicked him in the nuts.
“I didn’t
slow dance with any of those men. I’ve never slow danced,” Morgan
admitted.
Hell, his
hard-on was pressing against his zipper just to get closer to the warm nest of
soft auburn curls covering her mound. How Ethan knew Morgan’s mound was
unshaven, he couldn’t say.
What he
knew was that no other man had had the privilege of dancing face-to-face, hip to
hip, chest to breasts with her. He wanted to cheer and pound his fists against
his chest just to show Remy that not even a celebrity had danced with
Morgan.
“Really?”
he whispered.
“I’m not
very experienced with men like you, Ethan. Most guys think I’m weird. I get it.
I know.”
“Whoever
you dated before me should be hung, drawn and quartered for making you think
that.”
She
stiffened and frowned. Ethan wanted to kick his own ass. What had he
said?
“Like I
said, I’m weird,” she remarked, wrinkling her nose in a way that was undeniably
cute.
“You’re
beautiful. Kindly don’t put yourself down around me. It’ll piss me off. That’s
one thing you really don’t want to do.”
“You’d
never hurt me,” she challenged.
“Not in
any way that would harm you, no. But if you keep flirting with Remy Sinclair,
I’m going to make sure you don’t sit right for a week.”
Morgan
shook her head as if she couldn’t believe he’d just promised her a spanking if
she flirted with Remy again. And she could be sure he would honor that
promise.
“Even
though he’s tall, dark and hot, he’s a friend, Ethan, nothing more. He wants my
expertise for his show.”
Jealousy
lanced through Ethan’s heart and aimed right for his balls, gripping so tight he
had to grit his teeth to keep from finding the nearest chair so he could teach
Morgan a lesson she’d never forget.
For a
virgin to the lifestyle, she instinctively knew how to test her Dom. “Honey,
that man wants you in his bed. I don’t need to be psychic to know
that.”
“That’s
where you’re wrong, Detective. He knows my stance on that subject and hasn’t
once stepped over the line. He’s a good guy. You should get to know
him.”
“Why? So
you can get my permission to date him? Not going to
happen.”
“You’re
being intentionally difficult. I’m done with this dance,” she decided, making an
attempt to free herself.
Ethan
tightened his arms about her trim waist and kept her nestled right up against
him. “Stay with me. I haven’t said you could go anywhere. You want to run away
because you’re scared of how you feel around me. Admit
it.”
“Anyone
tell you that you’re as arrogant as Phalen and as much
of a pain in the ass as Taran?” She lifted her chin
defiantly. Her shoulders were straight and spine set. If she radiated any more
tension, Ethan feared she might snap.
“The three
of us are alike in many ways, I’ll grant you that. But I’m my own man. Admit how
you feel about me.”
“And feed
your ego? Not.” She tossed her head, the intricate topknot of long auburn hair
barely even budging. Morgan could be a saucy little thing when she wanted to be
and always sexy as hell.
“It’s the
magic of hairspray and a lot of carefully placed bobby pins,” she said after
he’d stared at her hair for a minute to see how the style survived that display
of attitude. “No magic or supernatural energy was spent on the outcome of this
hairstyle.”
“It looks
real pretty. I like it. But I prefer when you wear it long. Can’t wait to bury
my hands and face in it.”
“Try that
tonight and you’ll end up scratching your eyes out or cutting yourself. As it
is, it’ll take some heavy-duty shampooing to get it back to
normal.”
“Any
chance I can help with that? I’ve excellent hands. Besides, I wouldn’t want you
to suffer an injury if you attempt to unravel that topknot
alone.”
Morgan did
something she rarely did with him these days. She smiled. Along with the healthy
flush warming her pretty face, her even white teeth were perfect and made him
think of places on his body she was more than welcome to nibble at
will.
“My
goodness, Maddox charm didn’t skip a generation at all with you. Don’t worry,
Detective, I’m twenty-eight, I can handle showering all on my own,” she
answered, seeming unaware that even as she refused his help in the shower, she’d
nodded yes.
“Say my
name, Morgan.”
“I’ve said
it before.”
“Do it
anyway. I like the sound of it coming from your lips.” Unfortunately, his
attempt to charm fell flat. Not because he wasn’t making progress, but because
the couples on the dance floor started gyrating to LMFAO’s “Party Rock
Anthem”.
“Slow
song’s ended, Ethan. You can let go now.”
“Song may
have ended, but I’m not letting go anytime soon. Come with
me.”
Drawing
back a few steps, he kept her hand in his and guided her away from the crowd and
through a side door meant for the wedding party to use.
“Where are
we going?” Morgan demanded, stalling when they were halfway to
freedom.
“Outside
to decorate Phalen’s SUV,” Ethan
answered.
“Shouldn’t
we get the rest of the wedding party?”
“They can
dance the night away.” Ethan slowed down and their steps evened
up.
Letting go
of her in order to whip off his tux jacket and place it around her shoulders
before they reached the exit, he didn’t expect her to halt in her tracks when he
tried to open the door.
“What’s
the matter, sweetie?”
Her face
froze for a moment, as if she was getting lost in one of her trances, and he
feared she was getting a migraine. He hated when she got sick. It was the part
of her psychic world he dreaded because he didn’t want her to suffer even the
slightest bit of pain.
“No,
there’s so much activity in this castle and your jacket is a rental. Usually, I
can compartmentalize everything, same as reading chapters in a book. Right now I
feel those who’ve worn this coat before you. It even smells like…apples. Can you
touch the sleeve of this jacket or me?”
Frowning,
he took her hand and her smile returned. “Does this help?”
“Yes.”
Morgan looked up at him. The gratitude in her eyes made him feel as if he’d
become her champion. “Thank you. Let’s get the decorating
stuff.”
Since she
benefitted from his touch, he figured he might as well keep it up and tucked his
arm around her waist as they walked out into the chilly early fall
evening.
A full
moon lit up the parking lot as he led Morgan to his Acura TL. Once there, he
checked to make sure no one was around and brought her up against his much
bigger frame.
“Has
anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful, Morgan?”
“Ah, no,
not really, and you’re being silly.” Playfully tagging him on the shoulder,
Morgan tried to shimmy out of reach, but he caught the lapels of his jacket and
kept her from escaping.
Ethan
wasn’t having it. Tonight he’d decided to lay claim to Morgan. Now was the time
to act on it. “When I’m done kissing you, you’ll know I’m not silly at
all.”
Touching
his free hand to her chin, he kept her still, or she stayed still, he wasn’t
sure. The next thing he knew, his head was lowering closer and she’d lifted up
on her toes.
“Always
wanted to know what it would be to be kissed by Ethan Maddox when I was awake,”
she whispered a second before Ethan laid claim to the sweetest, fullest, sexiest
mouth he’d ever had the pleasure of kissing.
She tasted
like an angel, with hints of mint and innocence. Already half in love with her,
the reality of having their mouths fused together threatened to make him fall
completely.
Wanting to
deepen the kiss, he swiped her lips with his tongue, demanding entrance. Shyly,
she complied, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do. It was both eye-opening
and challenging to break through that timid barrier with a swift dart of his
tongue.
She made a
sexy little mewl and that was all Ethan needed to crush her completely up
against him. Turning her about, he leaned into her until her back was flush
against his car. The move forced their mouths to separate.
Checking
to be sure she wasn’t alarmed by what they were doing, he saw her enticing eyes
and sexy smile and swooped down to kiss her again.
“Ethan,”
she whispered, the fluttering of her soft lips against
his as sexy as fuck.
“Morgan,”
he said, countering her movements with some bottom-lip sucking action. The sexy
little minx arched back as much as the car allowed, her legs separating as he
fitted himself right up between her thighs.
“Feel
that?”
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