Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Alexandria Griffins Football

Greetings everyone!

I hope those of you who celebrate Memorial Day had a great holiday and enjoyed the extra day off. But of course, the day is so much more than barbecues, picnics and parades. Now that it's Hump Day, or Wednesday, whichever you prefer, let's talk about football.

Yes, football. Admittedly, I'm a huge football fan and wanted to create a fictional professional football team, the Alexandria Griffins located in Alexandria, Virginia, for Quarterback Blitz, a Contemporary Erotic Romance from Ellora's Cave Sophisticate. At the conclusion of Kyran and Anna's red hot love story, the idea for a wide receiver came to me, thus Dallas McKay, WR for the Griffins, came to me. From there, more Contemporaries evolved, specifically revolving around LSU college buddies, Kyran Black, Alexander Grant and Phalen Maddox. While Alex and Phalen are not pro football players, the three remained friends through thick and thin and each has had their story told.

Dallas McKay and Grace Daniels' story, Field of Play, also available from Ellora's Cave Moderne, included Alex and Phalen. Just a hint, more stories and books are in the works for the Griffins. Also, as a side note, to avoid complications with the NFL, the Griffins and all football teams mentioned are entirely fictitious and do not necessarily follow the schedule, as the league the teams are associated with are also fictitious.

If you'd like to check out Kyran and Anna's story, Quarterback Blitz, it's available via Ellora's Cave, All Romance Ebooks, and Barnes and Noble, in both ebook and print formats. It's also available from Sony and other 3rd party vendors.

Field of Play, available in digital format, can also be found at all previously mentioned vendors.

I sure hope you'll check them out. Related to both of the above books, Playing Doctor, available from Ellora's Cave Spectrum, features Alex Grant, sports agent for Kyran and Dallas, and his long time unrequited love, Dr. Ryan Hathaway, can also be found at Ellora's Cave, Amazon, ARe, B&N and All Romance Ebooks and a variety of vendors.

Thank you for visiting. Hop over to Sex Scheming Geniuses to learn more about contests. Commenting could lead to some exciting prizes!

Until next time,

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Hop Against Homophobia

When I first found out about the blog ‘hop against homophobia’, I thought it was a fabulous idea, fabulous, supportive and needed at a time when opinions and perceptions of same-sex relationships are evolving. I’ve heard this term, have read and seen both positive and negative comments about it.

I guess it’s fair to admit that I don’t understand what’s wrong with the idea of ‘evolving’, except in the political arena, where Democrats and Republicans are in a battle over the legalities of same-sex marriage. Recently, Barack Obama, the President of the United States has come out in support of same-sex marriage. To Mr. President, I say, thank you! Thank you for making a stance, and, yes, dare I say, thank you for evolving on this very important issue.

For the record, I’m a supporter of same-sex relationships. If a couple is in love and want to get married, I say go for it and live happily ever after! Isn’t that what romance books are about? Granted, I write m/m erotic romance, as well as m/f and BDSM and there's a good chance that my contemporaries will become wilder. But today's post isn't about what I write as much as offering my support for love, specifically lovers, husbands, wives, happily ever after, regardless of whether they're traditional or same-sex.

At the same time, I’ve read some astoundingly negative comments against evolving, from those who are straight and those who are not. Some of the negativity resulted after voters in North Carolina came out against same-sex marriages. This had to hurt! It hurt me and I’m a staunch Democrat living in a state that’s already legalized it. But the outrage I read on Facebook and Twitter, the insults flung at the voters, including attacks against race, the poor and hypocritical intolerance of someone else’s view, saddened me, too.

How can opinions change if we’re attacking one another? How can homophobia be a thing of the past? How? Patience, tolerance, understanding and being open-minded, regardless of someone’s lifestyle, color of their skin, or socio-economic level. Misconceptions and hatred toward homosexuality can only be corrected or changed one victory at a time. The President's support is a victory. Parents who recognize and love their children, regardless of their sexual preferences, is a victory in overcoming homophobia. Sometimes change can take a while. That's okay, one a time is better than none, eventually more and more will come around.

As I sit and write this post, I’m watching The Ellen Show, which has won multiple Emmy's! Years before Ellen started her talk show she had a situation comedy on TV. Remember when she came out at the show’s conclusion? I’d wondered what would happen, how she’d handle the pressure. It's a good chance she received backlash and feared complete rejection. Well, guess what, obviously she showed the world that her talk show could be successful. Look at the good she does, look at the numbers of people she's helped and continues to help. More and more Hollywood and Broadway actors are coming out, more so, accepted and rewarded.

The other day, I saw a blog article on the ‘net about a certain teen musician’s recent wardrobe malfunction. Basically, his loose-fitting pants fell down during a concert. Okay, it had to be embarrassing for him and this post isn’t meant to draw attention to him, so I’ll let you all figure out who it was. But the comments were brutal. Utterly brutal, featuring the most anti-gay, racist, sexist, nastiest comments that I’d ever seen.

I was stunned! I’d thought that I lived in a more tolerant country, that bigotry and racism and intolerance of sexual orientation were changing. Obviously, there’s still work to do. 

Someone’s sexuality or sexual orientation should not be a political issue or cause for hate or ridicule and bullying. Tolerance, understanding, education, showing those who may be anti-gay or same-sex marriage that there’s nothing wrong with it is the place to start. Those in the GLBT community deserve equal rights. Let’s hope that more people will evolve and be brave enough not to bash another, but to embrace our differences and celebrate equality and happily ever after for all!

Admittedly, it's a pleasure to post about this topic. I hope readers come out and share their point of view. As part of a multi-author, multi-blog hop, the 'Hop Against Homophobia' is a week long event and my blog partners at Sex Scheming Geniuses are all posting. You may even see a repeat of this post there. Prizes are being given away, including a digital copy of Playing Doctor, my m/m erotic romance from Ellora's Cave Spectrum. A blurb and excerpt were posted here on this blog a few weeks ago, take a look in the archived section.

Until next time, be open and love freely,
Frances Stockton

Friday, May 4, 2012

Quarterback Blitz

May 4th, 2012

Greetings one and all! I thought it would be fun to take a walk down memory lane and return to the world of professional football and the Alexandria Griffins. About two years ago, QB Kyran Black, known as ‘The Rebel’ by his teammates had a passion for the game, true talent and was known as a ladies man, to say the least. But when Kyran meets Anna James, full time physical education teacher and part time JV football couch, who also happens to be the Griffins’ new mascot, his heart is instantly set on her. Regardless of a ten year age difference, and Anna’s reluctance to believe that the gorgeous QB would want to stay with her, the two embark on a wicked hot affair and soon fall in love. But the media that often surrounds professional athletes quickly becomes a nuisance, even dangerous, when it becomes apparent that danger is lurking on the sidelines, from an unlikely source.
To learn more about Kyran, Anna and the Griffins, check out the following link: Quarterback Blitz, an Ellora’s Cave Sophisticate contemporary erotic romance, is available through EC,, B&N, All Romance Ebooks, and Sony, as well as other popular ebook sites. But that’s not all, it’s also available in print!!
Here’s an excerpt and a blurb if you’d like to check it out:
All Anna wants for her fortieth birthday is a ladies’ night out. Her plans are stalled when she ends up stuck in her griffin costume. The mascot for the Alexandria Griffins, she never expects to be rescued by the star of her midnight fantasies, quarterback Kyran Black. Called “The Rebel” by the press because of his long hair, tattoos and playboy stats off the field, he’s everything Anna should avoid.
Kyran is gorgeous and irresistible and he suggests they celebrate her birthday together. Certain she’s too old for him, she agrees to one night. Kyran’s charm and dominance in bed blitz Anna’s defenses, teaching her things about sex she never thought she’d experience.
But when their one-night stand turns into a relationship, his bad-boy past comes back to threaten their future.
Copyright © FRANCES STOCKTON, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
Anna’s zipper was stuck!
No matter how hard she tugged and contorted her tall frame into a pretzel, she was stuck in her mascot’s costume. Sweat covered her body, the sweltering heat of the costume one of the reasons the head piece had a little fan to cool her off when entertaining crowds. But the eagle’s head and wings were already off, sitting safely in their compartment in her little nook of the cheerleaders’ locker room.
The gigantic team jersey that advertised the name and number of “The Beast” sat in a heap at her feet. If she wasn’t in a hurry, she might have laughed at herself hopping up and down. She’d made birthday plans with some friends and was supposed to meet them after the Alexandria Griffins Friday night televised pre-season game. Her costume was proving difficult and something she really didn’t need right now.
She wanted to go out and have some fun after watching the star of her midnight fantasies perform on the field tonight. But Kyran Black was hardly going to remember his encounters with a physical education teacher from Baltimore. Then again, the last time they’d met, she had been thirty-nine. That changed when the alarm rang at seven o’clock this morning, reminding her what day it was.
“Why did I tell Tracey not to worry if I was late?” she asked herself, hopping to and fro as she tried one more attempt at the zipper.
Sweaty from her efforts, she headed out of her changing room and marched for the locker room door, only to draw up short when the tall, dark bare-chested rebel of her dreams charged inside.
Not just any rebel. “The Rebel”, Kyran Black, the legendary quarterback recruited to calm down the high strung starter for the Alexandria Griffins.
“Hey, sugar.” He flashed his devil-may-care smile, his clean shaven, chiseled features all the more sexy when she noticed the crooked scar that ran down the left side of his chin. Even when he smiled, the scar made it seem like he was snarling. It was sexy as hell.
His dark auburn hair fell damp and wavy to his broad shoulders. “You mind if I hide in here with you?” he asked, leaning back against the door as if he had all the time in the world.
Twin Celtic tattoos wrapped around his massive biceps, making him look more like biker than a professional athlete. Anna’s pulse went into overdrive at the memory of riding on his Harley. All that muscle and powerful, vibrating engine had almost made her come.
“Depends on what you’re hiding from.” Skeptical, she wrapped her arms over her chest, giving him her best ‘I’m the teacher. You’re the kid without a hall pass’ impression.
Kyran’s eyes swept her from head to toe. “A piranha with a microphone wanted to know how I felt after tonight’s game. I was damned lucky to pull on my jeans before she rushed into the team locker room.” He looked tired, freshly showered and he’d donned a pair of worn button fly blue jeans with holes here and there. The flash of his bare knee made her toes curl inside her griffin’s talons.
He was six foot six inches of ripped, athletic muscle and shoulders that would give Atlas a run for his money. His pectorals and six-pack abs were bare of chest hair, letting her appreciate the fine line of auburn hair that dusted his navel, thinning downward to disappear behind the top button of his jeans.
He was sex in faded blue jeans. But couldn’t he have grabbed a shirt when he was dodging the press? Or at the very least fastened all the buttons on his fly?
Anna wouldn’t study the significant bulge behind those buttons. She wouldn’t notice the very nice, masculine scent that accompanied him or recall what it was like to be plastered against that hard body, so close to having that power and strength surging inside of her. Irish Spring soap and basic shampoo did nothing for her, except make her pulse race and her slit clench greedily for his attention.
She told herself she was just horny. She hadn’t had sex in awhile. Finding her ex-fiancĂ© in bed with a twenty year old grad student made her swear off men for awhile. At least she’d thought she had until she agreed to join Kyran for coffee after a game last winter. He’d been trying to ask her out few of times before that, but it wasn’t until that game when she started to believe he was really interested.
“If you give the reporter a few words on tape she’ll leave you alone,” Anna suggested when he showed no sign of leaving.
“Rather not,” Kyran said, his vivid gaze returning to her face. “Isn’t that costume hot?”
“Yes. The zipper is stuck. Lend me a hand and you can stay until your piranha is gone.”
Kyran’s dark blue eyes narrowed. “I’ll help if you tell me why you’re pissed at me.”
“I’m not pissed, Mr. Black. Being trapped in this costume is the last straw in the day from hell. I’d appreciate some help. I’ve places to go, things to do.”
His mouth tightened and his brow lifted a fraction, sending white-hot lightning zinging from her heart to her clit. “Got a hot date, Anna?” He inhaled sharply, causing a trickle of arousal to slide down her inner thigh at his display of possessiveness.
Well, damn, he remembered her name. He just couldn’t remember to give her a call after she’d decided not to go home with him. She’d been a fool to believe that he’d meant it when he said he wanted more than sex.
“Just meeting some friends.”
Kyran watched her before pushing away from the door. Her heart tripped in her chest. “Have to admit, never thought a griffin was sexy until I met you. Tonight you were hot.”
Bowing her head to hide her heated cheeks, she edged toward him. “There’s nothing sexy about this costume. It’s itchy. When the night is done, it’s a relief to take a shower. That’s what I’d like to do,” she said, giving him her back.
“Don’t you have someone to help you with this sort of thing after a game?”
“I share this locker room with the cheerleaders. Tonight they had a meeting. I thought I could do it alone.”
“Doing it alone is never as much fun as with someone,” Kyran teased, placing his hands on her puffy lion shoulders. She could have sworn she felt the heat of his touch though the foam and padding.
“Help or get out of the way so someone else can,” she growled, waiting.
“Remind me never to stand in the way of your talons.” He was trying to hide his laughter. She could hear it in his deep, gruff-spoken voice that tempted her to have raw sex with him right then and there.
“I’m harmless,” she said. “Please, help me.”
“Okay, okay, you have foam and material caught in the teeth of the zipper. How did you manage to mangle it?”
“I was in a hurry.”
“Wouldn’t have been because you were avoiding me, right?”
“Ah, no, you weren’t on my mind at all.” Ha, let him think that. “Tonight’s a special night. I’ve plans.”
Mhm, I’m curious. What are you wearing under this thing anyway?”
The change in questions made her jerk around to face him. “A dancer’s leotard, satisfied?”
“Hardly. Now that I’ve got your attention, explain why you gave me a bogus phone number after we went out.”
“That’s your excuse? Ha, you’re Kyran Black. If you wanted to find me, you could have.”
“I tried, but didn’t want to violate your privacy like that. Your home number wasn’t listed and your cell was no longer in service.”
“That can’t be. I’d gotten a new cell earlier that day and—oh God.” She just might have given him the wrong phone number. “Okay, I admit I could have given the wrong number. A lot happened to me that day, I was a little distracted.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d just learned that I would be the Griffins mascot. I was on cloud nine. I’m a gym teacher and my pay was cut. The money from this job was definitely welcome. Talking with you in the parking lot was icing on the cake. My favorite quarterback asked me out for coffee and I guess I was nervous after what happened between us afterward and…I did not just say that, did I?”
Kyran smiled like he’d just won the championship game. “I’m your favorite quarterback? Tell me more.”
“And feed your ego, I think not.” Anna gave him her back again. “Fix the zipper. You don’t have to worry about my phone number anymore.”
“After your shower—”
“I can’t take a shower in this costume.”
“We’ll talk,” he continued. “Listen, I thought you’d brushed me off, but I did try to find you. You wouldn’t be the first woman scared away by what I do for a living. Now that I know it was a mistake, can’t we try to find out what’s between us?”
“There’s nothing between us.”
“Like hell there isn’t. Come on, Anna, go out with me tonight. Don’t you want to see what it might be like not to stop this time?”
“How about we call a truce? I’ll let you avoid the press while I finish getting dressed for the evening.”
Kyran’s hands brushed her back. Even through foam and fabric, she could feel the strength of his hands. He was thirty years old in a game dominated by younger talent and brutish defense and he could still stand in the pocket and deliver before an opponent plowed him into the turf.
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said when she trembled.
“Didn’t think you would,” she murmured.
He worked on the zipper for a minute and grunted in frustration. “Anna, don’t be mad if I tear this.”
“Tear it, I have a second costume. This one can be repaired.”
“Can I have a kiss when I’m done?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Come on, it’s not every day I rescue a damsel in distress.”
“I’m not in distress. Fix it or I’ll call for your piranha, hero.”
“Ouch, okay.” He suddenly tugged hard, the fabric standing no chance against his big, sure hands. “By the way, I’m getting that kiss when I’m done, Anna James. You left me with a raging hard-on the last time we met. You owe me.”
“Ha, I don’t owe you a thing. We had a ride on your Harley, two cups of coffee, a nice conversation and a little flirtation. It was fun, but—”
“Don’t forget the two of us going at each other like a freakin’ freight train when I dropped you off.” The fabric gave with another tug, the metal teeth of the zipper giving way to his forceful jerks. “That wasn’t flirting.”
“We kissed, fooled around a bit, no big deal.”
“Call it whatever you want. I almost fucked you against your SUV.” More tearing followed and the suit loosened. Anna was so wet she knew her leotard was soaked. “Don’t kid yourself. We wouldn’t have stopped if a security guard hadn’t driven by.”
“Please, Kyran. I don’t know what came over me that night,” she whispered, embarrassed. They had made out like a couple of teenagers caught between second and third base. He was right.
“Tell me you didn’t let me go that far with you because you’re one of my fans.”
“Never, there was something between us that night, something amazing. The last thing on my mind at the time was fame or football. At least not until the security guard gave you two thumbs up.”
“Did you think that was staged?” Kyran’s tearing had stopped, the suit loose around her shoulders, allowing for some of the air conditioning in the room to cool her off.
“No it reminded me of who you were and who I was. I didn’t want you to think I was the kind of person who’d fuck someone just because he’s famous.”
Kyran brushed the costume off her shoulders, pushing it to her elbows. “Turn around, sugar. I want to know something.”
“Don’t call me sugar,” she argued, turning anyway. He was tall and big and sexier than any man had the right to be. But he was thirty to her forty, and way out of her league. “What do you want?”
“You,” he said, his full, masculine mouth curved slightly up on the left side. The overhead lights reflected his deep blue eyes and scar. He looked fierce, like a predator. She was in serious trouble. Her heart pounded so fast and hard she was certain he could hear it. “You knew that the last time we were together, so why did you really give me the wrong phone number?”
Drawing as tall as she could, she stared up at him. It wasn’t every day she could do that with a man. She was six feet tall. “I’d changed my service and phone number earlier that day because a student stole my cell phone and made a bunch of calls to a phone sex company. I was still trying to remember the new number.”
“And…” he prompted.
“I was afraid. I am sorry.”
His big hand came to rest beneath her chin, tilting her head back. “Afraid of what?”
“You’d said you wanted to go out with me before then, that you’d come to mascot tryouts because of me. I was scared of what that meant, of being hurt when you realized I was too old for you.”
“We talked for hours at that coffee shop, Anna. You were friendly, open-minded and fun. You told me about teaching self defense to senior girls planning to go to Ocean City after graduation. I admired you for that, remember? I didn’t know you were a football coach—”
“Assistant coach,” she interrupted.
“Right, the point is I liked you, still like you. But yeah, I wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you. That doesn’t happen every day, you get me?”
Kyran…talk like that, it’s not for me,” she argued. “I can count on one hand the men I’ve slept with and so far sex has been pretty disappointing. Let’s call it a night, okay?” There’d been three men, but she didn’t have to give him all the stats of her love life, or lack thereof.
“I can’t. Anna, come home with me tonight.”
Trembling, she tried to finagle her way out of the suit. “I’m getting out of this costume, taking a shower and leaving, alone.”
“Thought you had plans,” he replied.
She paused. “I do.” What, exactly, was his point?
“Why leave alone? I could join you.”
“That’s not a good idea. It’s a ladies night out sort of thing.”
“Planning to go to a strip club?”
“An all male revue, so, yeah,” she confessed.
“Hell no you’re not.” Kyran frowned, letting the costume fall to her feet and trap her in place.
Feeling cornered, she lashed out at him. “It’s my birthday. My friends and I want to have some fun.”
Kyran had the audacity to glare, his sexy scowl making her slit so wet, she feared he would see the wet spot on her leotard. She refused, absolutely refused to squirm and give herself away. “If you think I’m going to sit back and let you put dollar bills down some other guy’s jockstrap, you’re wrong.”
“Think they wear g-strings or something to show off what they’ve got. It’s not every day a woman gets to appreciate a well-endowed man for her fortieth birthday.”
Kyran growled, catching her about the waist. Her heartbeat slammed inside her chest as he wrapped her closer and slanted his mouth over hers. She wrestled him and her costume for all of about two seconds before parting her lips and accepting his tongue.
He didn’t just kiss, he dominated. She ignited. His tongue mimicked the thrust of his substantial, barely contained cock between her already damp thighs. The thin, stretchy material of the leotard pulled taut against her slit, causing her to gasp. He felt incredible, tasted like sin and mint and all male heat. His deep groan promised he knew exactly what he was doing to her, his hips pushing into her a little more.
He drew her top lip between his teeth and feasted. “Damn,” he murmured between sucks and bites, frissons of sensation tickling her mouth. “I’d give my left nut to fuck you right now.” His tongue kept her from saying a thing. All she could do was hang on and kiss him back.
With superwoman effort, she finally managed to move him back a little. “We can’t. Dammit, this shouldn’t be so hard!” she cried out, aware that she’d parted her thighs as much as possible, welcoming his jean-clad thrusts. She was thrusting right back at him, the grind of his pelvis against hers mind boggling.
If they kept grinding against each other, she’d climax. She was so close to the edge, she wanted to scream with the need to take him inside of her.
“I’m hard, Anna, been this way since I walked in here.”
She’d noticed. But she wouldn’t feed his ego. She had to retreat, to think, anything to keep from going too far too soon. “I’m not ready.”
“Liar, you’ve soaked your leotard. Let me get this off you,” he tempted, grasping the material at her shoulders and starting to tear.
“I like slow, patient, vanilla sex.”
“Can’t promise vanilla, but next time we’ll go as slow as you want,” he drawled, his almost-buried southern accent coming back because he was turned-on. She’d done this to him, made him want her.
Heady with the reality of having Kyran seconds away from getting her naked, she held her breath. The leotard gave without a fuss, ripping down the center, her sports bra the only thing protecting her modesty.
A click at the door behind them brought his head up, his nostrils flaring. “What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know. Could have been security checking on us.” Horrified at the thought of what they must have looked like to a guard, or anyone else, Anna wanted the floor to swallow them whole.
He reluctantly let her go and went over to the door, looking out. “No one out there, hallway’s deserted.”
He turned back and grinned, reminding her of an ancient conqueror who’d decided the fate of his captive as he closed the door again, leaning against it to bar the way.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m alone with the sexiest woman I’ve known, and no one is the wiser. Security won’t interrupt us this time.” He pushed away from the door, reminding her of a predator, sexual confidence dominating the room. “I intend to make you come on your birthday, many times.”
“Stop right there,” she ordered when he stalked toward her.
The damned costume and torn leotard hindered her for only a moment before she freed herself and fled for her dressing room. Grabbing a football jersey and holding it in front of her, she turned to find him right behind her.
“I’m hot and sweaty. I’m not ready for sex games in the locker room with a super stud,” she said, gesturing toward the shower room. “I have about a half an hour before my friends start to worry.”
“A little sweat doesn’t bother me,” Kyran claimed with that wolfish grin.

All links for ARe, Amazon and B&N are listed below:
Thank you so much for visiting today. I hope you enjoyed taking a walk down memory lane.
Until next time,

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Ink Master

Hello again! Thank you to all who've visited recently. As you may know by know, I've joined forces with two other authors, Ranae Rose and Angela S. Stone and we created a blog titled Sex Scheming Geniuses. It's been so much fun.

Today was my day of the week to blog. While that topic was all about 'Jumping the Shark', and I'm more than glad to add a link at the end, this one is about Ink Master, my Ellora's Cave Taboo release that came out a few months ago. Since then, Playing Doctor released from EC Spectrum, before Ink Master came Field of Play and Quarterback Blitz. All books, including those with Ellora's Cave Blush, are currently available through Ellora's Cave,, B&, ARe, Sony and various ebook vendors. Quarterback Blitz is available in ebook and print, ditto for Seductive Persuasion and Rhiannon's Pride, each with EC Blush.

I thought it would be fun to give a little nod to the books that came before Playing Doctor. One of my favorite heroes, Phalen Maddox, who was first introduced in Quarterback Blitz as a secondary character, rapidly became the focus of Ink Master. Phalen's a former Army Airborne Ranger turned PI and tattoo shop owner. He's big, badass, ultra Alpha and one hundred percent Dominant, but what he's not is abusive, cruel, or mean. Though a darkness surrounds him due to the horrors of war and the loss of his parents when he was in college, Phalen has a deeply ingrained sense of honor and has taught his younger brothers, Ethan and Taran, everything he's learned about the BDSM lifestyle. His heroine, Cassandra Williams, or Cassie, is a submissive-in-denial and their businesses reside side by side in Salem, MA.

So without further ado, here's a glimpse into Ink Master. Enjoy!
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: INK MASTER
Copyright © FRANCES STOCKTON, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
5:00 a.m. Book Haven Diner-Salem, MA
The first step on my path to submission was acceptance. I’m a professional woman and have responsibilities I’ve worked hard to achieve. There was no way in hell I would willingly submit to a man, much less let him bind me to his will and lead me on a sensual journey few can understand. But that was before I met Master and my body knew before my heart that he was destined to make me fly.
Under his domination, I became a powerful woman. Under his control, I flew. And when I accepted his collar, I did so with the power of love…

Cassie Williams pushed her glasses back into place on her nose and tucked her sister’s journal into the pocket of her apron. Fiddling with the coffee machine, she poured fresh Columbian beans into the grinder while trying to reason out how a financial adviser on her way to being the CFO for a big shot corporation could be something totally different in private.

Allie had been a submissive in a D/s relationship, something her family kept secret.
Even as Cassie filled the water basin, she recognized something in herself. She and Allie may not have been identical twins, but her sister’s prophetic words made her wonder if she’d ever know what it was like to fly beneath the skill of a Dom’s hand.

“Morning, sweetheart, saw your car parked out back and thought I’d check in.” Phalen’s Boston accent turned the r in car into an h. Cassie loved his voice. It never failed to make her weak in the knees.

Waiting for the coffee to begin brewing, she answered, “Hey, Phalen, been awhile since you walked through my door.”

“I’m sorry I was gone so long. Had my brothers keeping an eye on things around here,” he said. “Any chance I can get a mocha latte before the breakfast crew gets in?”

In an instant, Cassie’s panties were damp. The smell of Irish Spring tickled her nose. Phalen Maddox was her darkest fantasy come to life. But damn it, her fantasies scared her sometimes.

“Sure, it’ll just take me a sec.” Turning around, she found Phalen sitting in his seat at the counter.

As always, her heart skipped a beat. Her clit pulsed in recognition of a sexy primal male who could do amazing things with his hands and tongue if they ever got horizontal. Refusing to let him know how much she wanted him, she shoved the glasses up her nose as a show of indifference.

Phalen didn’t just sit at the counter. He commanded center stage, even though all he did was offer his gigantic coffee mug and a charming devil-may-care smile.

Pulling herself together, she went to grab the mug. He caught her wrist first, holding her absolutely still. “What’s going on, babe? You were a million miles away when I walked in. The door wasn’t locked. Not a good idea when you’re here by yourself.”

Every nerve-ending beneath her skin fired in delight at the way Phalen’s hand wrapped around her wrist. His grip was strong. His fingers were calloused from years of martial arts training in Jujitsu, Kung Fu and Judo. Recently, he’d joined the Taekwondo dojo on their block and was mastering that too. There was no force. But to pull back right then wasn’t an option.

“Wow, two nicknames in less than a minute,” she said, slowly lifting her eyes from his long fingers to his face. “At least you stopped calling me darlin’.”

He called every woman that. Now women who came into the diner frequently asked for the hot blond guy with the scrumptious body and wicked charm. Granted, he was ripped. If there was an ounce of fat on him, she’d eat his Sox cap.

“Answer the question,” he insisted. Normally, she’d have thought eyes the color of melted pewter would be cold. No. His gaze made her hot from head to toe.

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Ah huh, then you weren’t daydreaming about Donatelli?” Changing his hold on her wrist, Phalen kept his eyes on her. “Ethan told me he saw you getting cozy with him on TV last Sunday.”

“This little show of dominance is about Michael? Need I remind you we’re never been on a date? Or did you suddenly appoint yourself my Master while you were gallivanting around Fairfax with another woman for more than a month?”

“I’m not interested in any woman but you. When you’re ready, I’ll be your Master, Cassandra Williams,” Phalen declared. Already turned-on, she creamed her panties. “You need to stop going out with him. Or I’ll take issue with it.”

“What will you do? Tie me up like a pretzel and flog me into orgasm? I don’t think so,” she scoffed, refusing to let him know there was a very real part of her that wanted him to tie her up like a pretzel.

“No pretzel twists. No flogger to redden that fine ass of yours, much as you’d like it. I’ll put a chastity belt on you and keep you from coming at all.”

“You wouldn’t dare. That’s barbaric.”

Phalen squeezed enough to keep her attention, his gray eyes boring into hers, one brow raised. She knew if she simply backed up, he’d release her. Choosing to stay was far more thrilling.

“Test me on it, Cassie. See how long I’ll forbid you to fuck if you date him again.”

“For your information, I haven’t had sex in so long I’ve forgotten what it feels like. There’s no reason to worry about who I’m dating or not.”

“That’s good. I don’t share. When I fuck you, you’ll never go back to your vanilla boyfriends.”

Did he have to be so damn gorgeous when he said he was going to fuck her? It was difficult enough dealing with a man as confident as he was. Phalen had chiseled movie star looks, extreme height at six foot six, incredible long blond hair which he kept tied in a ponytail, gorgeous eyes a woman could melt into, a strong chin and muscles that screamed former Army Airborne Ranger.

She loved when he wore his faded Boston Red Sox cap, it was such a part of him she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him without it. That had been more than six months ago, when they’d opened their businesses within the same week. They’d flirted and danced around each other since.

Yet they’d never gone on a date or kissed. Phalen had learned how her sister died and backed off so far he’d almost dropped off the planet.

Phalen, if you let go, I can make your latte,” Cassie suggested, letting him decide when to release her.

“Promise you won’t see him anymore.” He loosened his fingers, using the edge of his blunt fingernail to smooth the pulse in her wrist.

She shook her head. “I can’t promise not to see him. Having a state senator as part of my father’s congregation is a huge deal. My parents and his have known each other forever. Sometimes we cross paths when I go to church. But I’m not dating Michael Donatelli. He’s been dating someone for a couple years anyway. What’s the problem?”

Phalen smiled, sending her heartbeat into overdrive when he flashed his pearly whites. It wasn’t that his teeth were perfectly straight that got her. In fact, his canines reminded her of a wolf’s and one incisor was crooked. It didn’t matter. He was sexy as hell. “Thank God I don’t have to pulverize the slimy bastard.”

“You believe me?”

“Of course,” he answered, releasing her wrist. “I don’t like the guy. His TV commercials drove me bat-shit crazy last November. You know that.”

“You think he’s a conservative bore,” Cassie said, reluctantly stepping back. Now that he’d let go, she missed the strength of his hand restraining her.

Donatelli is an asshole. Never said he was a bore. That’s on you.”

Phalen was right. Michael was boring. And so damn uptight at times that she’d wanted to ruffle his feathers by telling him who she’d voted for. She didn’t though. Her father would have a cow if she openly admitted she was a Democrat to the right wing politician. She was twenty-nine, for goodness sake. She shouldn’t have to hide what she was from anyone.

“Can I get that latte now?”

“Sure. My breakfast crew should be coming in soon if you want something to eat.”

“I ate already, thank you. Any chance you’d like to come over and pick a tat over lunch?” he asked when she turned away to play barista.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a tattoo.” She’d been contemplating getting one for months. The pain involved kept her at bay. “Maybe I’ll get one for my birthday in April.”

“How about I design something for you?”

“That’d be nice.”

Cassie loved coffee and books. Miraculously, she’d found this old diner up for sale nine months ago. She’d been saving her money while working at a coffee shop since she was in high school, had sound investments, was gifted with a nice inheritance from her grandparents’ estate and borrowed a small business loan from her parents, which she was still paying off.

Her cooks and wait-staff served diner-style dishes while customers read or worked on their computers. There were eight vintage booths, ten tables and a counter that could seat eight in the front. The tables and booths had small music boxes, each connected with a digital jukebox to the right of the counter near the restrooms.

Customers had to walk through an archway to get to the store, where she offered magazines, newspapers and gifts such as coffee mugs designed by local artists and jewelry.
Since it was in Salem and a few blocks down from historical landmarks around town, it was an attractive destination for breakfast and lunch crowd tourists. She didn’t serve dinner, deciding when she opened to switch to goodies like soft pretzels and scones until closing time. Coffee, lattes and hot teas were available all day.

“Cassie?” Phalen called out again, putting more push to his voice.

Loving the way he sounded right then, she looked back. He was still in his seat. His eyes were trained on her hair. “Yes?”

“You said maybe about getting ink,” he pointed out. “Not long ago, you said ‘no way in hell’. What’s changed?”

“The idea that getting a tattoo from you doesn’t seem so painful anymore.”

“The degree of pain changes, depending on where you want the work done. Endorphins kick in to help your body deal with the discomfort, sweetheart. For some, it’s very addictive.”

“My answer stays the same. I’m not ready yet.”

“For the tat or me?
Below is a link to Ink Master from Ellora's Cave Taboo.

If you're on Twitter, Facebook or Pinterest, feel free to follow, friend or pin!

Have a lovely day, read often and write well!