Molly Hammerman

Category Archives: Excerpt

Cover Reveal for The Devil’s Gate by Rue Volley

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**COVER REVEAL**
The Devil’s Gate
Cover artist: Rue Volley
Coming April 12th
Blurb:
Curiosity can be a dangerous thing. In Abigail Watson’s case, it nearly ended her life.
Jack’s tastes are very defined, and his ability to seduce with ease draws Abigail into his dark world.
After a brush with death, Abigail is reminded of just how short life can be…then she meets Jack Landon, the mysterious heir to the Landon fortune and her savior from a certain death. One taste of him on her lips and she is consumed with a desire, a willingness to submit and let him take the gift that she has protected for so long.
Join the event here.
‪#‎CoverReveal‬ ‪#‎TheDevilsGate‬ 

Sexy gothic girl with legs in leg cuffs

 
We are having a giveaway for an amazon gift card and a choice of one of Rue’s books in the event! Simply come on over and share the pinned post about the cover reveal and enter into the drawing!
beautiful woman in a black dress with a glass in hand
 
beautiful woman in the role of a slave on a leash

Rue’s Bio

Rue Volley resides on Earth with her husband, Von Erik, and their two pug sons, Momo and Oshi. She is an award winning author, graphic artist, and screenwriter. She is also the Creative/Marketing Director for Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing, and co-owner of Lovebites Production Company, which specializes in Dark Fantasy Films.
Rue released her first film, Hellhound, in November of 2014. She is currently working on two more films, ‘The Devil’s Gate’ and ‘Into the Never’. 
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You can find Rue on her fanpage, Twitter, Google+, Amazon, Youtube, IMDB, and her website.

Nya Rawlyns’ Shadow of This World Blitz

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I am very pleased to have Nya Rawlyns on my blog to talk about her book blitz for The Shadow of This World.  It’s currently on sale for .99 at Amazon.
shadow of this world

Three brothers from the fabled Medici family.
Two operatives from the future with conflicting agendas.
1515 Venice. Politics, greed and war with a side of religious fervor.
An epic journey through the tangled morass of one world gone mad, the other on the brink of another apocalypse.
One woman, four men.
Hearts beating separately.
Hearts beating as one.

All cloaked in the shadows of their worlds…

Antonio de’ Medici
Meet the oldest of the de’ Medici brothers, known to all as the Demon de’ Medici, the man without a soul, his father’s closest confidant, his youngest brother’s staunchest supporter.
Antonio de’ Medici, called as Tonio but only by his family, is a man of unusual and deadly talents, talents that make him the perfect interrogator and the ideal assassin. Tonio enforces his father’s wishes without question, a killing machine in the service of his family and his city-state of Florence. His loyalty, his resolve are unquestioned—except when it comes to matters of his youngest brother and the future their father has planned for the young man.
Dispatched to secure what might be a political prize of inestimable value, Tonio gradually falls under Veluria’s spell, but not so far that he cannot impose his own powerful will and extraordinary gifts in what becomes a tug of war: a war of spirit, determination and resolve. And a war of the heart.
Tonio will see to his brother’s happiness, even if that means setting aside his desires and feelings for the strange woman enrapturing his soul-less existence. But an act of violence unleashes a side of young Stefano that will change the shape of all they know and understand. And it will set into motion a set of tragic events that no one, not even the Sisterhood, could have predicted.

 Excerpt

In this scene, Tonio struggles with conflicting emotions and a heavy dose of remorse for having so cruelly shamed his youngest brother in front of his men, inflicting both physical and emotional pain on a boy-man he’d vowed to protect.

Antonio attacked the night the way he approached everything, full frontal assault, without guile or finesse. He had little patience for fools and tonight his brother had stretched that patience to the breaking point. His shame and regret was a palpable thing but he must not let it interfere with the execution of his duties to his family.

Duty? Is that what drove him?

The simple mission had devolved into a disaster, partially of his own making. The woman was a formidable adversary with remarkable skills, certainly worthy of Cosimo’s attention. What he couldn’t fathom was why or how she’d managed to insinuate herself into his thoughts, planting seeds of an emotion he reserved only for his brothers.

If desire had a rhythm it was a staccato beat, not the faint flutterings of the merely smitten, but the steady thrum of senses on full alert, blood pounding hot and strong through his veins. Heat flooded his face, a burning, like ice, like fire, like nothing he’d ever sensed or experienced in his long, troubled life. He thought himself immune, protected from the vulnerabilities of emotions that served no purpose.

His father had taught him well and for years he’d banked those fires, taking his pleasure on his terms. But this … this was out of control, a wildfire racing through conduits long idle, now ablaze. He felt the panic and the bile rise in his throat and the delicious assault on his groin, hurtling him into readiness.

With a gasp, he collapsed against a fractured surface, rough and pitted, harsh on hands that knew little gentleness. What was wrong with him? It could not be her alone—this was too strong, coming from separate directions, beating at him like a storm gone wild, wind and hail and rain surrounding him from every quarter. He wanted, needed escape and knew there was none. Papà and his uncles would see to that. He would take back the control of the Demon, the Dark One. His gifts must not be squandered, his training forsaken, his attention splintered, fractured like a mirror hurled into space from the highest parapet.

His priority remained the same but the reasons behind it had shifted dramatically. He now understood he must find the woman before the other did, that nameless stalker who was but a wraith, vague in shape, indistinct— a darkness from which no light could enter or leave. He silently cursed his ability to feel other’s thoughts … to peer even into their souls. It was a constant reminder that he had none of his own.

The distant sound of revelers, the strange shushing of cloth and soft-soled feet, lapping wavelets and creaking docks swayed to a symphony that was uniquely Venezia. Florence, his home, had nothing like this, this ever-present danger clothed in soft hues, vengeful nights and a sea that hungered for the soul of the city with a voraciousness not even he could match.

He ached for relief, for freedom from the pressure in his skull, and pain that threatened to drive him to his knees. The best he could hope for was to have cool logic replace the jumble of emotions consuming him from within: fear, longing, desire, need. None of that served his purpose.

He allowed a frisson of shame to remain. What he had done to his brother was inexcusable. Stefano was one of the few things in this world he truly cared about. The young one needed his guidance and protection. Instead he’d reverted to the monster all knew him to be.

With a sigh he straightened and forced all extraneous sensation to the background, willing the pain in his head to retreat. Logic dictated that she’d lose herself in a crowd, perhaps retreating back toward St. Mark’s Square. Yet from that direction he sensed the stalker, the man’s presence like icy fingers of dread racing up and down his spine. If he were in her position he’d try to put as much distance between them as possible. And that included himself.

With no way to know for sure he decided to go with his gut instincts. Turning to the right, he hastened toward the Piazzali Roma.

Were he a betting man, he’d lay odds he’d find Veluria first. Perhaps when Cosimo was done with her, he could indulge his fevered imagination…

 

Hungry for more?

veniceStefano de’ Medici

Stefano is the youngest of the Medici brood, considered the handsomest, the most adept at courtly manners and an irresistible charmer for women of all social stations. The pater familias, Cosimo, turns a blind eye to the many inappropriate liaisons that threaten to drain the family purse, the price never too high to smooth over outrage from cockolded husbands. Cosimo is a patient and indulgent father for he knows his youngest will service the family’s interests when the time is right.

When Veluria targets the young man as her entrée into the seats of power in Venice and Florence, even her sophisticated training cannot prepare her for the delights she’s about to experience.

Cosimo is no fool and he suspects Veluria is more than the vapid French courtesan beguiling his youngest. To learn more about a potential threat to the family interests, he dispatches his eldest son, his enforcer—Antonio, to bring the woman in for interrogation.’

Excerpt #2

In this scene, Antonio and young Stefano have rescued the mysterious courtesan, Veluria, from an unknown assailant. They seek shelter in an alcove, trying to assess from what quadrant the danger emanates.

“Stay back, Brother. She is fine.” The tall man carefully shouldered his way into the narrow cubicle, mindful of his burden. He set the woman on a makeshift cot and turned to his sibling.

“Tonio,” Stefano whispered, “she should not be here. This was a mistake. I never would have written that note,” he paused, his face a mask of fear and concern, “had I realized how much danger…”

Tonio glowered at his brother, cutting him off. The young man had no idea of the stakes in this particular game. As always, his infatuations and conquests occupied him to the exclusion of all other considerations, a fact he and Nico secretly admired but their father no longer found amusing.

Whatever Cosimo had divined from his spies, the woman’s elevation to person of interest had been swift and surprising, brooking no hesitation on Tonio’s part when tasked with drawing the woman away from the court, forcing her into a vulnerable position. His father’s preternatural instincts, bordering on prescience, had so far fueled considerable success in manipulating events in the family’s favor. If this woman, and her supposed French connections, had merit in the old man’s plans … well, who was he to argue the point. Politics seldom concerned him. Exercising directives did. This one had gotten interesting the minute he’d detected the interplay of energies in the tunnel.

As did the fact they had apparently picked up what amounted to a parade of stalkers. He’d lost the shadowy figure in the tunnel, but apparently not the hive of frustrated Papàl Guards who’d been dogging his heels for days. He tolerated their interference most times. This was not going to be one of them.

Stefano continued to fuss over the prone woman, mindlessly adjusting her gown until the tiny cubicle filled with an irritating high pitched rustle as the lengthwise grain of the silk resisted his frantic strokes.

Tonio hissed, “Uncle Giovanni’s guards approach. Be quiet. It would be best if they did not discover all of us together. I have made other arrangements that do not include the family’s incessant meddling.”

His younger brother whined, “But why are they here?”

“Because Father or Uncle could not be sure you would follow through.” His thoughts skipped a beat, logic dictating that there might be some question about his own commitment in this matter. His fondness for Stefano was no secret. Ignoring the implied complication he assured the young man, “You have nothing to fear, little brother, nothing but your unseemly attachment to this strange woman.”

Stefano hissed, “I fear nothing, Brother, and I don’t give a damn about unseemly. Do you think having the Papàl Guards parading about in all their finery will insure that I will—as you put it—’follow through’? If you do, you are a bigger fool than our dearest uncle.”

Tonio advanced toward his younger brother, shoulders tense, long, elegant fingers fondling the jeweled hilt of his cinquedea.

“I think perhaps, dear Stefano, you should have more respect for Pope Leo. Father worked his particular form of magic to ensure our family’s right to the succession. It would not do for anyone to think we are not united in this matter.”

Stefano sneered at the older man, “Always the apologist, Brother. Whatever the old man says, you are there to kiss his…”

Tonio moved with uncanny speed, pinning his brother against the ancient frescoed wall, his right arm pressed against the young man’s windpipe, his left gripping the short sword. Stefano’s pupils narrowed to slits as he succumbed to his brother’s brief show of mastery. Tonio recognized the capitulation with a brief nod, taking a fractional step back to put some space between them. The young man’s slight intake of breath assured him he had his undivided attention.

Scarlet Darkwood’s Mistress of the House

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I’m thrilled to have another excerpt from Scarlet Darkwood, this time from Mistress of the House.

Mistress-of-the-House-ebook-Omni-Lit

Prohibition is in full force, and temperance people are out to sterilize the world from immorality and every sin imaginable. But one place has remained hidden from the community, harboring a secret so bold those who dare voice it face the consequences. Thelma Starnsby know the secret well, and when she returns home from The House, she seeks to practice what she’s learned, using techniques of show and don’t tell. Though her skills are welcomed by her lover, they fail to move him to take their relationship to the next level.

Hatching a plan, Thelma desperately tries to see if absence truly makes the fires burn stronger.

Excerpt:

. . . Finally he broke the brief silence with his answer. “The thing I really like best, Thelma, is spending time with you. The meals are only a small part of the equation.” He turned his head to face her, taking a moment to run his finger softly up and down against her cheek. “I think the real question should be, what have I enjoyed most about the meals?”

She felt the heat flair up in her cheeks, and her stomach lurched for a quick second. But she played dumb just a little in order to hear what he might say next. “I don’t know. What have you enjoyed the most about them? I mean, was there something that made them special or stand out in some way . . . their texture, their flavors?” Her eyes strayed off his and trailed back to the lake gain. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of his face, with only the faintest hint of a grin to soften his otherwise intense expression.

“Textures and flavors—bah!” He clicked his tongue, pretending to chastise her. “I think you know exactly what I mean, Thelma. Let’s just say our time together last night did something to me . . . something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“Oh?” Her heart began to race.
Without another word, he reached out and held her face between his hands, and

delivered a soft kiss on her forehead, then her cheek . . . then her lips. With a force and power she’d never seen from him before, he kissed her with greedy, desperation, plunging in his tongue for a teasing swim in her mouth. All of a sudden, he wrapped both arms around her and pressed her lightly down on the ground, never taking his lips from hers.

The very heat of him seemed to set her on fire, as his hands began stroking her hair, and all the way down her neck. She let out a soft breath, while her heart beat fast with anticipation. Just as she’d hoped, he seemed intent on taking the lead tonight, and she possessed no mind to stop him. His fingers had already found their way to her breasts, rubbing the nipples underneath her dress. A tingling sensation seemed to ignite her whole body, and deep within her slit, the tiny bundle of nerves at the top continued tapping out a silent rhythm, nearly driving her mad.

The touch of his hands running up and down her right thigh gave her a jolt, making her realize just how far down he’d ventured by this time. She let out a soft whimper. For a split second he stopped. The evening still contained just enough light for her to see the lusty glint in his eye and the passionate look on his face.

Luckily, they still had no other intruders tonight to disrupt their tender moment under the tree.

Not a word left his lips, and ever so softly, he slid his hand underneath her dress. Little by little, his hand worked itself inside her panties, finally reaching behind and cupping her buttock. At this point, he delivered a light squeeze. She smiled to herself. He didn’t have far to go; the short dress had indeed come in handy tonight.

“My turn, darling.” He whispered the words in her ear. His hand had now moved away from her rear, making its way across her hip. In what seemed like an eternity, his fingers trekked over her soft mound, and finally rested inside her slit.

Thelma struggled to keep from crying out. His soft, thick fingers began coursing over her wet flesh, gently massaging her small lips, then lightly rubbing over her large lips. Without thinking, she parted her thighs a bit wider. Just as she’d imagined during her fantasies of him at night, alone in her room, his touch shot her arousal level to the highest degree.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Through the breeze, the sound of her own wetness met her ears as he explored her nether regions like one fascinated by a new toy. Suddenly, with utmost tenderness, he slipped in a finger deep inside her, causing her to let out another whimper, a little louder than the first. The gentle gliding of his finger, back and forth, caused her to lift her hips, in hopes of satisfying the internal, carnal hunger.

“Oh, Harry . . . my god!” Her words now came out in almost a pant.

“Good?” He now slid out his finger and began using her own fluids as a lubricant, slipping over her clit, nice and easy, creating a heaviness that threatened to erupt in a series of spasms. “It’s your moment tonight, sweetheart. Just relax and let go.”

Another light cry came out of her mouth, and within seconds, the old, familiar tidal wave of release came crashing down over her, washing her away in a sea of pure bliss. The last few days of being home, free from the arms of her sensual House attendant, had caused her body to nearly convulse into erotic withdrawals. A gnawing emptiness inside had turned into torture, creating a desperate desire for someone to simply ravage her. As it turned out, dear Harry wasn’t bad with those fingers, after all. . .

 

Purchase Mistress of the House from these ebook retailers:

All Romance Ebooks Amazon Barnes and Noble

 

Scarlet Darkwood’s Master of the House

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Today, I’m featuring Scarlet Darkwood’s Master of the House.  Come back tomorrow for an excerpt from Mistress of the House.

Master-of-the-House-ebook-Omni-Lit

All work and no play has left William Strumpkin a dull boy, leaving him lifeless, listless, and feeling overall out of control of his life. But during this time of Prohibition, where temperance people are striving to achieve a stodgy, puritanical approach to life, The House has a side where staff silently vow to debunk the traditional definition of morality, choosing to see hedonism as a basic part of human nature, almost a necessity.

After his stint at The House, Willie puts his well-honed carnal skills to good use. But will his insistent lover, Louise, let him remain silent on where he learned his bedroom skills, or will he be forced to reveal what he’s pledged to keep silent?

Excerpt:

“Remember when you brought the cookies over the first day I came home?” He continued his exploration of her breasts as he spoke.

“Uh-huh. What about them?” She squinted her eyes at him, puzzled.

“What I did to them is what I wanted to do to you that day. They way I licked over that chocolate drop on top is the way I wanted to taste you . . . like this!” He dipped his head down and took the other nipple in his mouth and began to lick and suck with such vigor, she cried out. Then he stopped and smiled at her. “Of course, that would have been so forward of me, don’t you think?”

Louise chuckled. “Most likely I wouldn’t have minded if you had done it.” “Oh, really?” His eyes widened in surprise. “Why is that?”

“Like I said, I’ve liked you a long time.”
Giving her a smug grin, he took a moment to turn his head toward her thighs,

noting that she’d bent up her knee and turned it out a little, opening up her skirt just enough to tease him. “You know what else I wanted to do to you that day?”

“What, Willie?” Her eyes now blazed as hot as the flames in front of them, flashing hot sparks of lust.

“Then you wouldn’t think me too forward if I removed these?” He reached beneath her skirt so his fingers caught the top of her panties.

“No, not at all.” With her words barely a whisper, she lifted her hips, allowing him to remove the panties and push the skirt up to her waist.

“What’s this? A smooth mons?” With his forefinger, he lightly grazed her skin. “You’ve just shaved yourself, haven’t you?” He rubbed over her again. “This is

smooth as glass.” Without a trace of expression on his face, he moved so his lips nearly touched her ear. “Why, Lou? I’ve heard most girls only do this for one reason. What’s yours?”

She avoided his eyes, offering him no immediate answer.

“Louise, I want to know why you did this to yourself?” He pressed his lips closer to her. His tone became just slightly more demanding. “I want an answer, and I want it now!”

She swallowed hard and glossed her tongue over her lips. “I—I wanted to look nice, that’s all. I take pride in my appearance, so I want to look good.”

“Down there? Who would see you there?” Willie smiled inside. On the other hand, he waited with bated breath to hear her answer.

She fluffed her hair, pretending to ignore him, but all the while kept her eyes steadfast on the ceiling.

He turned her head to face him. “Talk to me, Louise. I want you to tell me why you did this?”

“I just wanted to be prepared, in case . . . “

“In case what?” He reached down and began rubbing her again, her legs parting a little as he did so.

“In case . . . for this moment . . . you . . . we might . . .”

“So you thought at some point we might find ourselves like we are now, is that it?” His voice became softer, less demanding.

She nodded.

Willie leaned down and kissed her. “That’s okay, Lou. You don’t ever have to be shy, or worry about what I might think about you.”

“You don’t think I’m trashy or unladylike for doing this, for thinking we might . . .?”

“Of course not. I’d never think about you like that.” He gave her another quick kiss on the lips. His finger now roved over her slit, sliding over the flesh inside. She let out a small gasp and closed her eyes.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she bent both knees and then spread herself as wide as her body allowed. “So what else did you want to do to me that day you came home?” Her smile dared him to continue.

He moved his head down between her thighs, and parting her with his fingers, he slipped in his tongue and began caressing her gently.

 

Purchase Master of the House here at these fine ebook retailers:

All Romance Ebooks Amazon Barnes and Noble

 

 

Piper Kay’s Invicta-Salvation Excerpt and Cover

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Invicta Salvation Cover

I’m so excited to share Piper Kay’s newest release with you!

As Kaiden McKenzie and Holt Mitchell prepare to celebrate their fifteenth anniversary, and the grand opening of their new club, Invicta, they take a look back on how their lives together began.

 When Holt wakes up to an outraged father, he finds himself suddenly homeless and hungry. With the help and caring of a certain bad-boy, Holt finds life isn’t quite so bad as it seems. All he needed was the right man to guide him along.

Kade has spent his life running from anyone and everyone who tries to get close, but when he meets up with Holt, he suddenly finds himself wishing for something more. Who knew he was someone’s knight in shining tattoos…

 

Excerpt

My man is one magnetic mother fucker. You would think he was a snake charmer playing the pungi, with the way he draws me straight into his trance. That delicate tongue slithering back and forth over those plump, red lips.

Slowly he glosses them in a coat of wet saliva, making them nice and slippery. So fucking inviting. Grinning, he bites down, pulling off an alluring suck, as he draws one side into his mouth, scraping it with his teeth. Lip-tease.

“I have something for you. Give me a second.” He shakes grins and leaves the room.

He walks back in, around the corner, in a blue jockstrap and matching bowtie. Fucking hot as hell in that ass -less get up, been a while since he did a private dance for me though. Hell my dick’s already getting hard. I arch one eyebrow, ready for this show. Standing to the side of the bed his hips start to sway and he trickles that tongue over his top lip this time. So good. I give him a half grin, and run my hand over the bulge that’s forming under the denim of my jeans. Holt’s all muscle to start with, but when he starts with those body rolls, rippling down from his chest to his waist and on to his knees, he nails it every time.

He always was the show stealer. Gorgeous, and he rocked out in all the right places, looking like a fuck god on stage, everyone wanted him. I was just determined.

You can purchase this sexy thrill-ride on Amazon and Smashwords.

Watch the book trailer!

 

Find Piper on Amazon, Facebook, Twitter, and Google!