HEAT WAVE
Six Sexy
Stories for Sultry Summer Nights
Summer.
Hot. Sticky. Sexy.
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Although not all of the
stories in this collection take place in the summer, they are definitely hot,
might make you a little sticky, and are unquestionably sexy. What is more
perfect for a sultry summer night?
Seduction is the name of the
game in some of our stories. Control, submission, and domination flavor a
couple more. And the others? Just downright deliciously sexy, in multiple ways.
Grab your favorite ice cold
beverage, ladies, and prepare for your own personal HEAT WAVE! With an
introductory promotional price of $0.99, why resist?
Retailer Availability:
Amazon, Barnes &
Noble, iBooks, Kobo, All Romance
Ebooks, Turquoise
Morning Press, and more
Promotional Price: $0.99
SWITCHED
by Bella Masters
Take one CEO of an
organization who is in control. All. The. Time.
Add one undercover cop who
must maintain control. All. The. Time.
But that can get a little
old, can’t it? Sometimes.
Mix together in a
situation where neither of them are really in control,
but both find themselves jockeying for position.
but both find themselves jockeying for position.
Hm. On top? Bottom?
Who’s topping whom? Who’s
in control now?
And who really want to give it up, but can’t?
And who really want to give it up, but can’t?
THE BLURB:
The Chief Financial Officer of the non-profit Cerise Thacker
runs has been cooking her books. The DA fears the CFO’s deep family roots will
come after her, particularly after the CFO states he will “fucking see to her
death.” So she’s whisked away in a Yellow Cab into a short term police
protection program to keep her safe.
The cabbie? Isaac Walker,
undercover cop. For the duration, Isaac will be her protector, even though she
doesn’t want protection.
But Cerise and Isaac are
not strangers. They’d shared a role play Fem Domme/sub encounter a year
earlier–neither of them revealing who they really were. Now they are thrust
together in a situation of extreme danger, passion, and trust, where Isaac must
remain in control of the situation at all costs, even though he so very much
wants to give it up to Cerise. And Cerise must do everything that Isaac says to
the letter, even if she doesn’t want to.
That is, if they want to
get out of this thing alive.
FROM CHAPTER ONE:
“You want to die, Cerise? ‘Cause you must have a death wish. Be quiet and listen to me for once.”
“You want to die, Cerise? ‘Cause you must have a death wish. Be quiet and listen to me for once.”
Something in his face
made her realize she needed to listen. And obey.
Dammit. Obey was
generally not in her vernacular.
“All right, Mike. But
when this is finished...”
He gasped her arm, and
they moved forward. “When this is finished you will thank me,” he muttered. The
DA followed them toward the door.
“Mike?”
“No talking until we get
on the elevator.”
Shit. Shit! What was going on? Was she in
trouble? Were they lying to her? Was she going to jail, too?
There was nothing she
could do. She and Mike rushed through the outer office and toward the elevator,
all eyes on them, while everything else spun in slow motion. Finally, the
elevator door whooshed closed behind them, and she turned to him.
“Talk to me.”
“We need to protect
you.”
“What? Why?”
“You heard Hankins. He
said he would kill you. His roots run deep, Cerise.”
Her throat closed up.
Tom’s roots did run deep. She knew that. Knew too much about his family. They
had, how do you say?—connections. Tom had alluded as much during the few weeks
they were sleeping together.
The elevator binged, and
the doors swished open. Mike took her arm and led her toward the large glass
doors of the office building.
“There is a Yellow Cab
parked straight ahead. Number 2223. Look. Do you see it?”
She did.
“Walk out these doors
and straight toward the cab. I’m not going any further than the doors. You
don’t need to be seen with me outside of here. Go directly to the cab, and get
in the back. The driver knows where to take you.”
“Mike. I have no money.
I need my things.”
“It’s taken care of. Now
go.”
Whether propelled by her
own force or from Mike’s shove, she didn’t know, but within seconds she was
through the door, her gaze hooked on the Yellow Cab at the curb like it was
salvation. With each step, her heart pumped harder, her brain raced with
questions.
The door handle on the
cab was cold as she grasped and lifted it, her hand shaking. As soon as she sat
on the hard leather seat, and the door closed, the cab jerked into traffic.
****
“Holy shit.”
The two words eased out
of Isaac Walker’s mouth as he pulled his baseball cap lower over his bald head
and straightened his dark sunglasses. Almost simultaneously, he flipped up his
jacket collar and slunk down a little lower in the driver’s seat. The thing he
didn’t do was alter his line of vision. He knew this woman was his subject, he
knew she was heading his way, and there was no way he would take his eyes off
her until she was safe inside the cab.
No. No way would he peel
his gaze away from….
That pair of long,
shapely, stocking-clad legs, topped off by a respectable above-the-knee length
suit skirt, and anchored by a pair of three-inch, black, stiletto heels. One
leg in front of the other, hips hitching rhythmically right then left.
Erotic images flashed
through his head. He could easily picture those legs cuffed at the ankle with
black leather straps. Her thin wrists circled with leather and secured above
her head on a massive bed. That long red mane swept over her face. Her red
lips, full and pouty, huffing out breath after orgasmic breath.
And then....
Him, shackled to the
wall. The soft, leather riding crop in her hand, tapping, brushing, slapping
over his ass. Her ivory hands moving over his body, in stark contrast to his
deep brown skin. Her breath hot against the fine, sweaty hairs at the back of
his neck….
“Shit,” he hissed again.
“Fuck.” He was in trouble.
***
Bella Masters frequently disappoints her parents. She
wishes she could spare them the pain but it’s unavoidable. At first it was
the tatts and piercings. Then dropping out of college. When she was discovered
in the basement of her father’s church with half of the town council — their
pants around their ankles and her floggers at her side — her secret lifestyle
as a Dominatrix was speculative no more. So Bella went with it and never
looked back. After all, a little pain is a beautiful thing. Isn’t it?
Yeah, that bio was fun to write. Was it fun to read?
Seriously, though, Bella Masters is a 50-something grandmother, who pecks away
at her computer all day, wearing only her underwear, writing deliciously smutty
stories. Now, there’s a mental picture for you!
Or, Bella Masters could be the erotic pen name of a popular
and bestselling contemporary romance author who decided to use a pen name
for her little erotic stories simply to make her mother happy.
Whatever bio you believe, it’s all good, right? Bella
writes BDSM in various flavors, ménage à trois relationships, and same sex
relationship stories. She doesn’t like to limit her options (or her bios).
Fantasy is a beautiful thing. Isn’t it?
Website: http://bellamasters.com/
Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/bella.masters1
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/bellamastersauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Masters_Bella
Giveaway
On Behalf of the Heat Wave Boxed Set Authors,
Turquoise Morning Press will be giving away….
A $25 Gift Card to the
Turquoise
Morning Press Bookstore
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Thank you so much for hosting me today! Don't you just love this scene with Cerise and Isaac. Oh, and it gets hotter....
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