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RT Convention – Kansas City 2013 (A Round-up in Photos)

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The RT convention is one of the highlights of my year. I start counting down to the next one the minute the previous one finishes. Why? Because I get to spend it with my writer friends (although I’m still sulking about Sami not making this year), and I get to meet readers who I spend lots of time with online.

I could write a long post here about my time at RT this year, but I think the best way to share how awesome it is, is with photos. Questions will be answered after. Honest :)

Breakfast at IHOP on my first day...

Breakfast at IHOP on my first day…

Which I could not finish. But yummy!

Which I could not finish. But yummy!

Look! A bookstore! A brick and motar bookstore (in which I bought a Sonic Screwdriver and a talking Dalek!)

Look! A bookstore! A brick and motar bookstore (in which I bought a Sonic Screwdriver and a talking Dalek!)

Mari, Valerie and me. Being awesome.

Mari, Valerie and me. Being awesome.

Why yes, we are all gorgeous. Thank you for noticing.

Why yes, we are all gorgeous. Thank you for noticing.

Mari Carr is a pervert.

Mari Carr is a pervert.

A touchy-feely pervert.

A touchy-feely pervert.

Now, is the frog spitting at the little boy's you-know-what?

Now, is the frog spitting at the little boy’s you-know-what?

Or is the little boy peeing on the frog?

Or is the little boy peeing on the frog?

Valerie. Riding a bull. Because.

Valerie. Riding a bull. Because.

Tequila shots. Mr. C's face in this (blurry) photo cracks me up.

Tequila shots. Mr. C’s face in this (blurry) photo cracks me up.

Valerie Tibbs is NOT asleep. Don't be fooled!!

Valerie Tibbs is NOT asleep. Don’t be fooled!!

Look VERY closely at the name on the badge I'm wear. Very closely... (and yes, I WILL answer questions about it)

Look VERY closely at the name on the badge I’m wear. Very closely… (and yes, I WILL answer questions about it)

Snow! And me and Jess. In SNOW! Holy smokes, it snowed while we were there!

Snow! And me and Jess. In SNOW! Holy smokes, it snowed while we were there!

The badge. Again. Look at it. Now look at Mari's face. And mine. Hee hee hee.

The badge. Again. Look at it. Now look at Mari’s face. And mine. Hee hee hee.

Of course, Lila and Mari were utterly gorgeous. As always (bitches!)

Of course, Lila and Mari were utterly gorgeous. As always (bitches!)

While Valerie and I couldn't quite figure out what the hell I was doing with my phone (We were at the bar after all.)

While Valerie and I couldn’t quite figure out what the hell I was doing with my phone (We were at the bar after all.)

Zombie attack!

Zombie attack!

Arggghhh. Grrrrrooaannn. Braaaaaiiiinsss. (Can you believe we didn't win the costume contest?)

Arggghhh. Grrrrrooaannn. Braaaaaiiiinsss. (Can you believe we didn’t win the costume contest?)

Connie and Val. Who are awesome. In awesome shirts. Because they are awesome.

Connie and Val. Who are awesome. In awesome shirts. Because they are awesome.

I maybe feeling up a complete stranger.

I maybe feeling up a complete stranger.

Remember when I felt up a stranger? Well, I also got a massage from a complete stranger. How's that for the universe restoring balance?

Remember when I felt up a stranger? Well, I also got a massage from a complete stranger. How’s that for the universe restoring balance?

Me, Mari Carr and Val, the best personal assistant ever!

Me, Mari Carr and Val, the best personal assistant ever!

A random photo of me. I sent this one home to my girls. They responded with a picture of our cat.

A random photo of me. I sent this one home to my girls. They responded with a picture of our cat.

So my Ellora's Cave editor could not make it to RT this year (boo boo), so we took her.

So my Ellora’s Cave editor could not make it to RT this year (boo boo), so we took her.

And Farm Boy (Lila Dubois' husband) posed with her.

And Farm Boy (Lila Dubois’ husband) posed with her.

And kissed her.

And kissed her.

While Lila and Rhian looked like they were about to make out.

While Lila and Rhian looked like they were about to make out.

Duck faces! (I love Michelle Boone, in case you're wondering)

Duck faces! (I love Michelle Boone, in case you’re wondering)

And more duck faces (with some serious groping. Hee hee hee)

And more duck faces (with some serious groping. Hee hee hee)

And me. At the Dallas airport about to fly back to Oz. Happy to be going home, but sad RT was over for another year :(

And me. At the Dallas airport about to fly back to Oz. Happy to be going home, but sad RT was over for another year :(

What Do You Say To Two Hot Aussie Stockmen?

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If you’re American teacher, Harper Shaw, you might say something like this…

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Or, you might say something like this…

“H-hello.” Damn it, her voice was still croaky. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Of course, after you greet them, and get to know them for a few minutes, you might go on to do this…

“So who’s going to try to kiss me first?”

This, in turn, may be followed by some of this…

Harper whimpered, her pussy constricting. The sensation of being pressed between the two men was intoxicating. There was no definition for her mind to comprehend. Pleasure surrounded her. Hard, sculpted pleasure.

Her fantasy hadn’t even come close.

Keith’s erection nudged the curve of her mons, his thighs brushing hers in the water. His tongue swept into her mouth, a gentle exploration that belied the urgent want she felt in his cock.

Marc’s fingers played with her nipples, pinching, flicking, twisting. His lips traveled her throat, his teeth nipping her flushed skin. She groaned with each bite, rolling her hips between them. The stiff length of Marc’s desire stroked between her butt cheeks, Keith’s equally hard pole rubbing against her belly.

God help her, she’d never felt so…so…

Keith’s lips left hers, dragging down her throat, over her collarbone. He skimmed the tip of his tongue into the shallow dip at the base of her neck, lowering deeper into the water as he worked his way down her body.

Without a word, Marc scooped up her breasts, holding them in his palms as if offering them to his best friend. Keith took one nipple into his mouth, sucking fast.

Harper bucked in Marc’s arms, her cry loud in the quiet afternoon. “Christ, yes!”

Marc sucked on her neck, brushing his thumb over her other nipple as Keith continued to feast on her breast.

Ribbons of pleasure unfurled through the pit of her belly. Tingles of heat shot to every limb. Radiating from her breasts down to her very core. She squirmed, her pussy prickling with sudden heat. Her clit ached. She tried to push her thighs together but Keith’s hands stopped her.

He flattened his palms to her upper thighs, his thumbs tracing circles over her flesh. His tongue and teeth and mouth tormented her nipple, each suckling pressure growing fiercer. Behind her, Marc kneaded her breasts, his mouth exploring the side of her neck, her jaw. His tongue swiped into the shell of her ear before he captured her lobe with his teeth.

She hissed at the shard of pleasurable pain the bite awoke, bucking her hips forward.

Keith took advantage of her shift, his thumb grazing the seam of her sex.

“Oh,” she panted, rolling her head. The sun beat against her closed eyelids. The water lapped against her skin. Her senses were in overdrive, her body more aware of every caress, every touch, than she could fathom.

When Keith dipped his thumb into her pussy, she gasped.

When Marc pinched her nipple she begged for more.

 

Want to find out more of what Harper says? And does?

Misplaced Hands, the fourth book in the Foreign Affairs series written by the most amazing New York Times Bestselling author, Mari Carr and myself, releases on the 24th of this month. TWO DAYS!! You can read more about it at the Foreign Affairs blog (click here), as well as see how you can enter the Foreign Affairs contest :)

 

Sooo, what would you would say to two hot Aussie stockmen?

The Winner of my IMPULSIVE CONTEST!

1 Comment

Is Julia Mills who left THIS comment…

juliamills2012
Mar 26, 2013 @ 03:01:19 [Edit]

Laughed out loud when Fred said she had become a Peeping Tom!! LOL!!! That was the best!!! LOVED it!

 

Julia, can you send me an email with what sie t-shirt you’d like and what email to send your ARC of Dark Embrace.

Thank you everyone, for joining me in my impromptuness :)

I hope you all enjoy Dark Embrace when it is released.

 

xox

 

Lexx

The Newcastle Writers Festival – Words, Waves and Wonder

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Screen Shot 2013-04-01 at 12.04.12 PMThis Friday evening marks the beginning of the inaugural Newcastle Writers Festival. I’m speaking on the Saturday evening session, What Women Want: A Discussion about Desire, with Anita Heiss and Marion Halligan. Dr. Anita Heiss is an Indigenous Literacy Day Ambassador and a proud member of the Wiradjuri nation of central New South Wales and Marion Halligan is one of Australia’s most prolific and awarded authors. (I know, I’m still stunned I’m on a panel with them both.) I can’t wait to meet these amazing writers and look forward to seeing what women really do want during our session.

You can find out more about the Newcastle Writer’s Festival at the official website (click here). The festival runs for three days with some amazing sessions and I’m absolutely chuffed to be a part of it.

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I moved to Newcastle in 1993. I grew up in Tamworth, a rural city with a country town feel. Moving to Newcastle to study at university, I was a tad nervous. I am a country girl at heart and the idea of life in the big city scared me.

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But Newcastle turned out to be just a country town in big city clothes. It’s a wonderful place to live, with friendly people, a rich multi-cultural heritage and beaches so beautiful you could just sit and watch the waves breaking on the sand all day (if you didn’t have to worry about deadlines. Grrr).

half_newcastle01

If you’re within driving distance of Newey, I’d love to see you Saturday night. :)

 

Lexx

 

 

A Totally Impulsive Give Away

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Hands up if you’ve read Dark Destiny? Hands up if you can’t wait for the release of Dark Embrace?

Now, keep your hand up if you’d like to win a Principatus T-shirt with THIS logo on it?

 

principatus series logo copy copy

 

In a completely impulsive decision, I’ve decided to give one away to one lucky person along with an ARC of Dark Embrace (which isn’t due for release until April 2). I’ll draw the winner in 7 days time and announce it here.

So, how do you go in the draw? Simple. Leave a comment about what you liked the most about Dark Destiny on my Facebook page (link here), tell me in a tweet (@lexxie_couper), review it on Goodreads (send me the link to the review) or leave a comment here on this blog post. If you haven’t read Dark Destiny, don’t stress, you can still enter the comp by telling me what’s your favourite line from either the Dark Destiny excerpt or the Dark Embrace excerpt which you can find here :) The more times you comment, tweet, post, review the more times you go into the draw.

How’s that sound?

Who wants to go first? Kiss kiss?

Hee hee hee.

 

 

 

The Apocalypse Can’t Stop Desire Like This…Can It?

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Guess what’s available in only a few short hours?

Find out more at Samhain Publishing, Amazon, Barnes and Noble

Rebirth – Grim Reaper style…

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In 2009 I wrote a book called Death, The Vamp and his Brother. I loved this book. Loved it. It is still one of my favourites. It won The Romance Studio’s 2009 Best Erotic Paranormal Novel. But it never really found an audience. Perhaps because readers didn’t know what to make of it? Maybe it was the title Death, The Vamp and his Brother. Let’s be serious,  it’s silly. It doesn’t–didn’t–portray the theme of the book at all, and the theme of the book is destiny and how it has its dark way with us.

So when Samhain Publishing asked me a few months ago if I wanted to re-release it a month before the second book in the series (Dark Embrace), I said yes. When they asked if I would be happy with a new cover, I said YES. When they aksed if I’d be okay with changing the title I laughed. Did I want to change the title? YES!!! When it was decided Dark Destiny was to be the new title, I got very excited.

And then I was sent this cover:

DarkDestiny300

And my excitement went through the roof. Is that not one of the sexiest covers you’ve ever seen?

Today I received Dark Destiny‘s first review. And once again, my excitement shot through the roof.

“DARK DESTINY is a very intriguing, very hot book. You have sexy Death who prefers you call her Fred, a normal Aussie surfer/lifeguard, vampires, a Principatus and a really gross first horseman, who could ask for more? Oh yes did I mention the burning sheets or walls or wherever they landed and the unexpected realization that Death can actually fall in love. Lexxie Couper has come up with a fantastic world and I hope to visit it many more times.” – Fresh Fiction Reviews

(I know, Death, the Vamp and his Brother had been reviewed often but as of this point, Death, the Vamp and his Brother no longer exists *grin*)

It’s not often a book gets a second chance at life, but I guess it’s fitting with Dark Destiny…after all the vampire in Dark Destiny, Ven, was meant to die but he didn’t. He got a second chance… And as for Patrick, the hero…wow, you won’t BELIEVE the second life he gets.

Blurb

The Apocalypse can’t stop desire like this. Can it?

Principatus, Book 1

Death exists for one purpose and one purpose only: to sever the life-threads of the living. She does her job with pride and an unwavering commitment. Nothing ruffles her. Until she encounters Patrick Watkins.

The Australian lifeguard pushes all her buttons—and makes her tailbone itch like crazy. And when her tailbone itches, it means trouble is brewing. Big trouble.

As far as Patrick’s concerned, everything Death tells him is a load of bull. But what if she’s right? How is he expected to save mankind from the worst fate of all—the Apocalypse? Especially when all he can think about is how quickly he’s falling in love with the most feared Horseman of them all…

Warning: This book contains enough heresy to shame the Devil, more scorching sex than one person can handle, Two sexy Australian brothers and lots of Australian colloquialism. A bloody lot of Australian colloquialism.

EXCERPT

Fred noticed three things straight away. Patrick Watkins was looking directly at her, he was stark naked and he was semi-aroused.

By the Powers, he’s huge.

“Who the hell are you?”

His deep, angry growl made her jump. She stared at his face—his face, Fred, his face—her mouth dry. “You can see me!”

“Of course, I can see you. And I saw you at the beach today.” Sharp green eyes narrowed. “What the fuck did you do to my drowning victim?”

Fred clenched her jaw, giving the human before her a level look. “For your information, your drowning victim was a pedophile.”

A shimmer of disgust ignited in Patrick Watkins’ dark green eyes before he clenched his own jaw. “Mr. Peabody was alive until you touched him.”

Fred cocked her head to the side, trying like hell to ignore the fact that the man seemed to have forgotten he was naked—and still partially erect. Ignore it? How do you ignore something that impressive? “Yes, I must say, you did a very good job resurrecting him from his initial passing. But it was his time and no interference, no matter how skilled or stubborn, would have saved him.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Interference? His time?” Anger flared in his unwavering stare. “Who the fuck are you? The Grim Reaper?”

Fred inclined her head slightly. “Just call me Fred.”

“Well, Fred.” Patrick took a step toward her, the anger in his face growing dark. Menacing. “I’d saved him. I don’t care how bloody sexy you are, or who you think you are, he was alive until you touched him. What the hell did you do to him?”

Fred’s heart stopped for a split second, before pounding triple-time. Sexy? A grin stretched her lips and a wild flutter erupted between her thighs. He thought she was sexy.

He also thinks you’re a murderer.

She pulled a face, crossing her arms across her chest. Her nipples brushed against her forearms, sending a little jolt of damp electricity into the pit of her belly and she bit back a curse. How was it possible this one mortal male made her so horny? “I really can’t explain it all to you,” she snapped, irked by her body’s irrational response and Patrick Watkins’ not-so-irrational agitation. “Just know Peabody is in a much more deserving place now he’s gone.”

Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “So, what? You’re a vigilante?”

Fred ground her teeth. “As I’ve already said, I can’t explain it.”

“Try. Before I call the cops.”

Fred couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. “The cops?”

Black anger flashed across Patrick’s face. “Look, love, you’ve got exactly twenty seconds to give me an answer, or I’ll knock you on your arse, tie you to the bed and let the authorities deal with you when they get here.”

A hot, wet wave of sinful pleasure rolled through Fred at the idea of Patrick Watkins tying her to the bed. Damn. She’d never gone down that path of sexual gratification before, but the Australian lifeguard made her body fantasize about all sorts of things it hadn’t before. All of them very, very wicked. “Patrick Watkins,” she said, unable to stop her gaze roaming over his naked body. “I would like nothing more than to see you try.”

Another wave of fury—and something else far more primitive—charged his expression. “Okay. If that’s the way it’s going to be.”

He moved. Much quicker than Fred expected. Much quicker than any human should. One moment he stood glaring at her from beside his bedroom door, the next he was slamming her against the wall, his fingers locked around her wrists, his hips rammed into hers.

Immediate and absolute pleasure tore through her. Dark, intoxicating, submissive pleasure. Her sex constricted, her breath caught in her throat. She’d never been handled so. Even her Roman had treated her with kid gloves, like he’d been too scared of her to truly show how much she’d aroused him. Patrick Watkins however, knew no reason to be scared of her. And it made her sex flood with cream.

By the Powers, she wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him.

The licentious thought whipped through her head and, before she knew what was going on, her jeans, boots and t-shirt vanished. Leaving her just as naked as the man pressing her against the wall with his hard body.

He froze, his fingers digging into her wrists, his cock grounding against her belly. “What. The fuck. Is going on?”

***

You can buy Dark Destiny from Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and lots of other ebook resellers

69!!!

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Get your attention? Cause it did, you naughty people, you. Now, why am I shouting 69? Because that’s all my latest Ellora’s Cave release, Melt With You, costs. Sixty-nine cents. .69c.

So essentially, you’re paying dirty money for dirtiness. Perfection, yes?

meltwithyou_msrDetermined to win a bet, Olympic skier Darci Watson is racing down a mountain, victory in sight, when the snowy earth opens beneath her. Crashing into a cavernous underground space, she finds herself face-to-face with a man. Gorgeous. Big. Otherworldly…

Naked.

For Darci, all bets are off. Being stuck in an ice cavern has never been so hot.

An Exotika® paranormal erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere under the title Captive Heat,and has been significantly revised for Ellora’s Cave.

 

Excerpt

The run was perfect. Powdery-soft, lightly compacted snow, sky so blue it almost hurt to look at, air so crisp it could cut glass. Darci was in heaven. Her thighs, calves and butt burned like hell and her breath felt like shaved ice in her lungs—just the way she loved it.

Whizzing down the slope, trees and craggy outcrops mere smudges of blurring color in her peripheral vision, she couldn’t help but laugh, already picturing Crystal’s face. The American would spit chips when Darci swooshed into—

The slope opened below her, completely and abruptly, and swallowed Darci whole.

“Shit!”

The word had barely left her lips when she smacked butt first against something that felt like frozen concrete.

Pain lashed through her body, making her cry out. “Fuck!” Eyes squeezed shut, she lay still a minute or twelve before planting her hands on the ground and slowly, hesitantly pushing herself into an upright position, waiting to be assaulted by fresh agony.

None came. “Oh, thank God!”

Her gushed exclamation bounced around a space that sounded huge, and Darci opened her eyes.

An ice cavern. She’d dropped into an ice cavern. Damn it.

Releasing her skis, now just two shattered strips of glass fiber, bamboo and titanium, she rose gingerly to her feet, taking in her predicament. A thick fog of dread rolled over her. The ice cavern was large, yet claustrophobia crept through Darci. Frowning, she looked up. The small hole she’d fallen through was far too high to reach. Her frown deepened. “How the hell am I going to get out?” she muttered.

“That didn’t look like fun.”

Starting, Darci whipped her head around.

A tall man stood behind her, several feet away, his long white hair falling around a face of cold beauty, blue eyes so brilliant she felt her skin tingle. His intense stare locked on her.

It took a few moments before Darci realized he was naked.

***

So there you go. What do you think? Worth .69c to find out what happens next?

Hee hee hee

You can buy Melt With You HERE

 

An Englishman, An American and a Hollywood Film in Australia…

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MuscleForHire300(ARRC)No, this is not the beginning of a lame joke. It’s the hook onwhich Muscle for Hire is hung. And it’s available TOMORROW!!! Yay!!

So what better way to whet your appetite than with an exclusive excerpt. Ready?

***

Warm approval rolled through Aslin. It threaded through the base physical attraction he felt for Rowan. There was so much more to this woman than just a gorgeous body and sexy strength. She was protective, stubborn and not afraid to face any challenge to those she loved.

The realization was unsettling. It made the heavy pressure in his groin all the more exquisite and painful. Mindless fucking wasn’t mindless when the woman he was fucking stirred him on an emotional level as well. And Christ, did Rowan Hemsworth stir him on an emotional level.

His blood roared in his ears. The adrenaline still lingering in his veins from his earlier mechanical-bull ride surged through him again, this time fed by an excitement far more potent.

He could fall for Rowan Hemsworth if he let himself. Hard. Fast.

The thought made his mouth dry. He’d had numerous lovers in his time, but nothing serious. Protecting Nick—and then Lauren and Josh—had been his priority. He met his sexual desires when needed and went back to work. But that work, that life, was almost in his past. What did that mean for everything else in his life?

“So tell me, super soldier—” Rowan’s stare held his, a shadow deep in her eyes Aslin longed to understand, “—what exactly are you hoping to achieve working on Dead Even with my brother?”

To get to know you better.

The words, the confession, almost slipped from him. They were there, right on his tongue. They made his heart thump harder and his stomach coil. Instead, he leant forward, drew his gaze level with Rowan’s and said, “To make him the most believable super soldier Hollywood has ever seen.”

“Oh well, in that case—” she chinked her glass against his, a smile playing with her lips, “—here’s to super soldiers on and off screen.”

She downed her scotch in a single mouthful and then ran the tip of her tongue along her top lip. Aslin stared at the small pink tip of flesh, hypnotized. He wondered what it would feel like sliding against his. Would she taste of scotch if he kissed her now? Or would her mouth be sweet and warm?

Would he lose himself in the kiss? Would she moan into his mouth and wrap her arms around his back?

Would she press her hips to his?

Would she—

***

So yeah, that’s where I’m leaving it. I’m a tease, I know. Sorry :)

You can buy Muscle for Hire at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and all good ebook resellers TOMORROW!!! Yay!!

The Trinity Masters – An Awesome New Series from Mari Carr and Lila Dubois

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Authors of awesomeness (a self proclaimed title) Lila Dubois and Mari Carr have a new book out! They’ve finished their first menage story (heh–that sounds dirty) and I have them on the blog today talking about it.

Thank you for having us! We’re really excited about this book. Not only is it our first collaboration, but it’s the start of a great new series called The Trinity Masters.

Elemental Pleasure Cover

Elemental Pleasure, focuses on Carly, Preston and Lance, who are members of the super secret society the Trinity Masters. A secret society that demands the members be in menages are picks out their love interests What could go wrong?

When Carly Kenan joined the secretive Trinity Masters in college, she knew that one day she’d have to pay the piper. That day has come. Returning to Boston, Carly meets former Marine Lance Glassco, a mathematician for DARPA, and Preston Kim, a celebrated chemist. Though on the surface they have nothing in common, it’s clear the Grand Master thinks that together the three of them can do something amazing. And that’s why he’s declared that Carly, Lance and Preston must unite. In a ménage.

Tempers flare as they struggle to understand each other, but their physical attraction is explosive, and the sex leaves all of them begging for more. Pushed beyond her limits, Carly runs from Lance and Preston. What she doesn’t understand is that she now belongs to them, body and soul…and they belong to her, too. When Lance uncovers a dangerous crime in Preston’s firm, Carly is caught in the crossfire and the struggling lovers are forced to move beyond desire…to trust.

The Trinity Masters have the power to make careers and change lives, but there’s a price. All members know that the day will come when the Grand Master will select them, and pair them with two others. For the Trinity Masters the strongest bond isn’t a pair, but a threesome.

This book has sex, mystery, sex, adventure, sex, and two men who are alpha males in completely different ways.

Here’s where you can get the delicious Elemental Pleasure:

Amazon

B&N

Smashwords (all other formats)

Here, just for you, is the prologue and first chapter. Yum!

Elemental Pleasure

Copyright 2013, Mari Carr, Lila Dubois

Prologue

The Grand Master sat as his desk and studied the files lying there. Three people. Three lives. Their destinies lie in his hands.

Leaning back in his leather chair, he let his gaze travel over the portraits on the walls—paintings of the men who’d served in this position before him. Men who had been called to lead one of the most powerful organizations in the world. They had taken their position seriously, understood the gravity of their choices. His decisions, like theirs, could influence the future and bring fate to its knees.

The Trinity Masters were a secret society, as old as the U.S. sect of the Masons, but unlike them, the Trinity Masters were still a secret. It had been started by some of America’s founding fathers as they sought to replicate the networks and relationships that drove European society in America, a country that was wild and new. Hundreds of years later, the Trinity Masters counted some of the most powerful people in politics, science, the arts and even religion among its members. It was credited, though only in secret, for developing the relationships that had driven much of America’s success.

Being a member meant access to people, money and power.

In exchange, you gave them your future. And that future was the Grand Master’s to decide.

He looked at the pictures again. A pretty, dark-haired woman. Brilliant, creative. An attractive, serious-looking scientist, driven, powerful. And the final, a soldier. Strong and courageous.

Yes, he decided. All the pieces were there. He sealed the letters, prepared them for the messenger. It was time. Together, they would make a powerful bond.

A perfect trinity.

Chapter One

She’d made a deal with the Devil, and now the Devil had called to collect.

Carlene Kenan pulled her scarf up around her neck. At home in California it was a sunny, warm seventy degrees, but early March in Boston was still winter, and the wind whipped down Boylston Street as she stood outside the imposing Boston Public Library.

Carlene rubbed her cheek against the baby soft cashmere of her scarf. It cost more than her parents had made in a month when she was growing up. Those days were long gone, thanks to a deal she’d made nearly ten years ago. With her dark hair pulled up in an elegant chignon, a black wool coat, cream scarf and knee-high black boots she looked exactly like what she was: a beautiful, successful woman.

Had it been worth it? Her success had surpassed even her wildest dreams, but all her success had come at a price. Now it was time to pay up. She wouldn’t know if had been worth it until she went inside.

The city moved around her, everyone with somewhere to go, something to do. Another minute ticked by, but Carlene still couldn’t bring herself to mount the steps and face the consequences of her achievements. Someone bumped her, forcing her forward a step, and she hitched her designer bag higher. The man who bumped her, chatting away on his phone, turned to glare. When he caught sight of her he stopped mid-word, fumbled out a smile, then slunk away.

She mounted the steps. It was something she’d done a hundred times before while a student at Harvard. A computer science major, the public library had always been a chance for her to get away from her electronics, and to honor the lineage of scholars and invention that had been trailblazers to the world she knew.

And in her junior year the library had started to play a new, and secret, role in her life.

The grand hallway, with its arched and illustrated roof, was bustling with people, though the noise was muted, the hush of a library. The heels of her boots clicked against the stone floor as she made her way to the elevator. She rode it to the top level, where there were fewer people. By the time she reached the rare book room she was alone in the quiet hallway that smelled of books and secrets. There was a keypad on the door. She paused, realizing his instructions hadn’t included a code. Surely it wasn’t the same one the society had used when she was in college?

Pulling off her leather glove, she folded and tucked it into her pocket. As she reached out, she noticed her fingers were trembling. She curled her hand into a fist, willed herself to be calm, then reached out again.

333

There was a click as the door opened. Carlene turned the handle and let herself in, careful to close the door behind her. The code was the same. She wondered what else would be the same.

The rare book room was small, with each rack dedicated to a subject. There were a few tables, each with a box of cotton gloves placed precisely in the center, so the rare books could be handled without picking up corrosive oils. Behind a section containing maps and diaries said to belong to members of the semi-secret Masonic Temple was a section of wall with a triangle inscribed into the plaster. She touched her scarf, which hid the chain she wore with the same symbol hanging from it. Below the triangle were three words. “Mitimur in Vetitum.”

“We strive for the forbidden,” she whispered, tracing the words.

Her stomach clenched and her fingers trembled. She was terrified of what she’d find beyond that door, of what she’d discover in the temple of the Trinity Masters.

With their help Carlene’s company was now one of the fastest growing in the industry, and at only thirty-two she was well on the way to becoming very, very wealthy.

Taking a deep breath, she placed both hands on the triangle relief and pushed. A section of wall popped in, and then slid to the side, disappearing into a pocket. She passed through and waited in the darkness on the other side as the door shut, sealing her inside.

Once the door was fully closed the lights clicked on.

The small foyer was exactly as she remembered. The room was small enough to be mistaken as a closet, if anyone who was not a member ever found their way in here. The walls were paneled wood, the floor the same carpet as the outer room. An empty book cart took up a third of the floor space. Turning to her right she examined the panels there. There were numbers etched into the wood, seemingly at random.

The Grand Master’s instructions had said she was to open box thirty-one. Pressing her finger against the number she felt a click. When she pulled her hand back a small tray popped out of the wall. Reaching in, she took out a key and a small piece of paper.

You’ll find garments in room C. Right hand corridor.

Wait until you hear the bell.

-Grand Master

The note was written by hand, and Carlene shivered a little. The Grand Master was the head of the Trinity Masters, and a man of unspeakable power and influence. No one knew who he was, though there were plenty of rumors. At the Trinity Masters annual gatherings, hidden inside library benefit galas, Carlene had done her share of gossiping about who he might be.

Now she wasn’t curious, she was afraid.

Note and key in hand she moved the cart out of the way and, with another push, opened the door hidden in the back wall. It revealed a narrow elevator. When she pressed the button, the door opened and Carlene stepped in. She took a moment to gather herself as the small, wood paneled elevator took her down to the sub-basement. When the elevator stopped and the door slid to the side, she bit the inside of her cheek to center herself.

A long marble hallway stretched out in front of her. Columns supported the double-high arched ceiling, which was a smaller replica of the grand hallway above. Her footsteps rang as she made her way along the hall, the sound bouncing off the walls to echo down to the grand double doors at the far end. There were no books here to muffle the sound. At the midway point there were openings in the walls, one to the right, another to the left. She’d been in the left hallway before. There were changing rooms there, elegant as the locker rooms in a fancy spa. For ceremonies all members wore robes to protect their identities, and those with the most need for secrecy had private dressing rooms.

As she turned right she wondered if that’s where she was going—to a private dressing room. Now that she had been called to the altar by the Grand Master, she supposed she’d earned a private dressing room.

After all, she was about to meet her husbands.

Or maybe it would be husband and wife.

Her hands shook, and it took her a few tries to get the key into the lock on room C. Once in she found a small but well-appointed room. A white robe waited on a hook. Normally they wore gray.

Setting her purse on the vanity she touched the robe. “It’s like a wedding dress,” she whispered.

It would be the only wedding dress she’d ever wear.

In exchange for the Trinity Masters’ help, she’d given up her future, specifically her choice of whom she would marry.

Throughout history the world had been secretly controlled by relationships that defied societal standards. Some of those relationships had come to light, the most famous of which had been Vice-Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson, who’d been in a relationship with Lady Emma Hamilton and Sir William Hamilton. The gossip papers of the nineteenth century had called it an affair between Lady Emma and Lord Nelson, but it had been so much more. The three-way union between them had helped end the Napoleonic wars, and both Emma and William had mourned Lord Nelson after his death.

The Trinity Masters believed that when three people were united it created a bond far stronger than the pedestrian two-person marriage, and that these marriages, if made between those with power and intellect, had the capability of changing the world.

Carlene slid out of her clothes, leaving on the corset-bra, panties and garter set she’d bought especially for today.

She’d joined the Trinity Masters as a college junior, at age nineteen, when the idea of some crazy secret ménage marriage had seemed like a fun lark. In her twenties she’d enjoyed herself, knowing that there was no need for her to worry about falling in love or getting married. By the time she was twenty-eight and her friends were married, some expecting children, she finally understood what she’d really given up.

However, the consequences of crossing the Trinity Masters were too dire to contemplate, and so here she was, waiting to meet the people she’d share the rest of her life with.

She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror before raising the hood and tugging the chain out from under the robe so it lay on her chest in plain sight, the triangle glinting in the low light.

Taking a seat on a velvet chair, she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

A bell rang, the deep sound vibrating through her. She looked up as a door in the wall opposite where she sat opened.

Rising to her feet, Carlene took a breath and walked through.

Preston Kim stretched and then slowly sat up as the bell rang. He was in one of the Trinity Master’s private dressing rooms. It wasn’t the first time he’d merited the honor of one of the private rooms, but it was the most important.

Preston smiled and rose to his feet. He pulled the black hood over his head, hiding his dark hair and eyes.

It felt like Christmas morning. Anticipation hummed through him, and yet he didn’t want to rush. He wanted to savor it, wanted to remember every detail so that he’d one day be able to tell his children how dad had met Mom and Mom, or Mom and other Dad.

The same way his parents had told him.

Preston was a legacy to the Trinity Masters. His parents—Dad and both Moms—were members. His biological mother had married his father in a traditional ceremony several years after the three had been married by the Grand Master. He and his sister were raised by all three parents. He’d grown up knowing he was the child of something special, powerful, and secret. His Dad, Mother, and Imo—the name he and his sister used for their other mother, which was a bastardization for the Korean word for aunt—were now all immensely powerful in the world of education. They’d been joined together by the Trinity Masters at a time in their lives when it seemed they had nothing in common—an electrical engineer, a junior political aide and a mathematician. Many years and two children later, his father, the engineer, and Imo, the mathematician, owned an educational company that developed much of the technology and curriculum used at the country’s leading science magnet schools. His biological mother was a lobbyist, who worked to keep the money flowing to education no matter what happened to the national budget.

And now it was Preston’s turn to meet his partners.

The call from the Grand Master had been both welcomed and poorly timed. Though he’d been waiting for years to be called to the altar, his company was having financial trouble, with lower profits than projected in the last quarter. He’d walked away from a financial report—which was far from his favorite reading material—to fly to Boston. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to put work concerns away. Today was too important.

The door opened and he stepped through.

The room on the other side was small, intimate, not the massive gathering room with its stone altar. The floor and walls were marble. Three high-backed wing chairs sat in a semi-circle, facing a large metal medallion in the center of the floor. A rectangle of lighter colored stone led him to the chair farthest to the right. A soft sound made him look left, and he saw two other robed figures, one in black and one in white, emerging. Turning his attention to the center, he followed the path in the floor and took a seat in his chair. There was the rustle of fabric and the pad of feet as the other robed figures took their places. In the shadow of his hood, Preston grinned.

Light illuminated the bronze medallion with the Trinity Masters symbol and logo, as well as the chairs, but the corners of the room were cast in darkness. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a patch of shadow detached from the wall and came forward to stand in the center of the medallion. He wore a black robe trimmed in gold. A heavy chain draped his shoulders.

The Grand Master.

Preston sucked in a breath. He’d been introduced to the Grand Master as a child, and seen him at the galas and initiation events, and yet he still scared Preston. He knew, from hearing his parents’ whispered conversations, that if crossed, the Grand Master was ruthless. It was said that he’d not only ruined members who disobeyed their laws and ignored their vows, but had them imprisoned, sometimes even killed.

“Welcome.” The Grand Master’s voice was deep, commanding. His hood moved from side to side as he looked at each of them. Preston thought he caught a glimpse of a nose or chin in the darkness off the hood, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Grand Master,” he murmured in greeting. He heard the others do the same.

If the robe colors hadn’t given them away, the voices would have. There was one man and one woman. He felt a small moment of disappointment. Secretly he’d hoped for two women—he’d always thought his father’s life seemed more than agreeable, but growing up as he had made him more open-minded than most. He would accept the other man into his life, and into his bed, if they were attracted to each other.

Preston had never been with another man, but there was a first time for everything.

“When you joined the Trinity Masters, you made a vow. You pledged your lives to our cause and our traditions. The time has come for you to meet your partners, your lovers, your spouses.”

The words rang, echoing off the walls. He thought he heard a small sound of distress from the woman, hidden in her virginal white robe.

“When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”

Preston’s belly lurched. This was it.

Lance Glassco’s fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. The wood groaned as his knuckles turned white. He wanted to jump from his chair and pull down everyone’s hoods. He hated the secrecy, hated not knowing what was going on.

Hated not having control.

Joining the Trinity Masters had been a blessing. Without them stepping in at several key points in his career, he would probably be dead, another fallen Marine in some desert. As it was, he was a proud United States Marine Corps Reserve Officer, and mathematician for DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, the research and development arm of the Unites States Armed Forces.

Personal relationships weren’t his strong suit. He needed rules and guidelines, and relationships—or more accurately women—didn’t come with either. Knowing that the Trinity Masters would someday step in and tell him who to marry had relieved him of the burden of worrying about it.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten the letter from the Grand Master that he realized exactly how much control he’d given up. He had no say in who he’d marry, and he didn’t even get to pick if they’d be men or women. Since receiving the letter, his frustration had grown to the point that he could now feel it boiling under his skin.

“When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”

Lance froze, his shoulders cramping from the tension in his arms and back.

“Carlene Kenan.”

To his left the figure in the white robe rose from her chair. Her hands were slim with painted nails.

He was glad at least one of them was a woman.

She threw back her hood and Lance jerked in his seat. She was beautiful, with creamy pale skin and dark hair. Reaching back she did something so that her hair fell down around her shoulders in pretty waves. He wanted to bury his hands in her long tresses, to taste those pink lips. Her gaze met his, though he doubted she could see his face under the hood. Then her face moved from him to the other man, before looking at the Grand Master once more.

The Grand Master raised a hand, and Lance frowned when he noticed he wore gray gloves. The Grand Master motioned to her, the twitch of his fingers impatient.

The woman, what was her name? Carlene, that was it.

Carlene’s fingers moved down the front of her robe, undoing the small hook and eye catches that held it closed. As she did, the robe fell apart a bit, giving him teasing glimpses of flesh.

When the robe was open, she grasped the edges. There was an expression on her face that Lance couldn’t read.

He sat forward, anxious to see what she hid under the enveloping material. Her gaze focused on him. She raised her chin and dropped the robe.

Lance was sure he’d break the chair he gripped it so hard. She had long legs and full, lush breasts. She wore some lacy thing over her belly and breasts. A tiny pair of panties covered her sex, and garters held up dark stockings. Her face was beautiful in a way that made him think of the porcelain dolls his mother collected, but her body was lush and soft, made to be touched and stroked.

Lance sat back, his frustration gone, replaced by a need to have her.

He grinned.

And have her he would. She was his.

“Preston Kim.”

Lance had been so wrapped up in imagining what he’d do to Carlene that he’d forgotten this wasn’t just about the two of them. He looked to his right, where the other figure in black now stood. The hood fell back to reveal a tall man with a lean handsome face. He had dark hair and slanted eyes that probably meant he was at least part Asian.

Preston’s gaze focused on Lance, and Lance felt the challenge.

Black velvet dropped to the floor. The other man wore a pair of dark boxers. He was trim and muscled. Lance was sure he could take him in a fight, but it wouldn’t be easy. Preston reminded him of some jungle cat, maybe a black panther.

“Lance Glassco.”

Finally it was his turn to stand. Lance rose to his feet. Impatient he stripped off his robe, throwing it to the floor. He looked at Carlene, saw her brows go up as she caught sight of him. He’d kept up with his physical training while in the reserves. He wasn’t vain, but he knew that physically he was a good specimen. And his Mama always said he was handsome.

“You now belong to one another. Come forward.”

Barefoot, they approached the Grand Master, stopping when they too stood on the medallion. He grasped each of their right hands, bringing them into the center. Taking the chain from around his shoulders he bound their wrists with it. Lance saw Carlene shiver as the cold metal touched her.

Lance’s hand was on top of hers, and he squeezed her fingers. She looked at him, and Lance smiled. She tentatively returned the friendly gesture.

“Preston,” the Grand Master said.

The other man stepped forward, his hand, which lay atop Lance’s, tightened, and Lance tensed. Reaching out with his free hand, Preston cupped Carlene’s face. Her eyes widened as Preston pulled her head to his.

He kissed her long and deep, their cheeks only inches from Lance’s face. Desire warred with jealousy. Lance wanted to be the one kissing her, and yet he liked seeing Preston touch her. That didn’t make any sense.

Lance hated things he couldn’t make sense of.

The instant Preston pulled back, Lance jerked Carlene to him. Burying his hand in her hair he nipped her lower lip, demanding she let him in. When she took a breath he pressed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweet flavor.

Preston touched his bare back, hand sliding over skin and muscle. Startled, Lance ended the kiss when Preston reached for him.

Lance knocked his hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Dark eyes examined him. “The same thing we just did with Carlene.”

They stared at each other, right arms held awkwardly, hands still bound together by the chain.

“Don’t touch me,” Lance snarled. It wasn’t that he had a problem with men touching each other, but if anyone were going to do the touching, he would initiate. Not Preston.

Preston raised one brow. “You must have known there was a chance you’d be placed with another man.”

“I did, and that changes nothing. We have a woman.”

“Oh, you must be fucking kidding.”

They both jerked, then looked at Carlene. Her lip was curled. Lance wasn’t good at reading people, but he was pretty sure the look on her face was one of disgust.

“You have a woman? I really hope you don’t mean me.”

Lance frowned. “You are our woman.”

“I’m not your fuck toy, or some baton you’re going to pass back and forth.” She jerked her wrist free of the chain and took a step back, rubbing the marks it had left.

“Carlene.” The Grand Master’s voice was menacing and dark, dripping with warning.

She stopped in her tracks.

“You are incorrect. You are theirs…and they are yours.”

The Grand Master reached out and undid the chain from their wrists. Preston and Lance both stepped away.

“Your relationship is yours. You will choose how to live your lives, but there are rules. No one must know about the trinity and you may never stray outside your marriage.”

The Grand Master focused on Lance. “You have one month. At that time you will return here and be formally bound in the marriage of the Trinity Masters.”

The words echoed in the suddenly hushed space.

“Now, go.”

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