Showing posts with label Dangerously Broken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dangerously Broken. Show all posts

Friday, October 16, 2015

BLOG TOUR PROMO



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Eden Bradley, the author of Dangerously Bound, brings another Dangerous romance to passionate life...
For Jamie Stewart-Greer, BDSM is the perfect way to release the darkness inside him and use it for pleasure. But it’s getting more difficult to hide this side of himself—especially from the one person who elicits his most extreme, secret passions.
When his best friend died, Jamie promised he’d watch over his little sister, Summer Grace. Summer is a nearly irresistible sex kitten who’s been after Jamie since she was fourteen—and she’s absolutely taboo. But now she’s hunting him in his territory—the Bastille, New Orleans’ most infamous BDSM club—and Jamie knows he’s in trouble.
Summer is more than ready to indulge Jamie’s secret kinks, and as their relationship spirals into the darkest recesses of absolute pleasure, it only stirs her desire for more. If Jamie is willing to give Summer what she wants, it’s going to turn love into the most dangerous fetish of all.
Mature Audience

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Summer went hot and loose all over as she watched the change come over his face, his eyes glinting a hard, glassy green, almost as if they were lit from within. There was fire there. And stark command. And Jesus, it was Jamie looking at her like he was going to eat her alive.

He kissed her again, and it was all hunger and need and hurting, he kissed her so damn hard. It was everything she’d ever needed. Her body surged against his, everything just out of control. She couldn’t think. It was as if he’d shocked her senseless, and all she knew was his hot tongue in her mouth, the flavor of him, the scents of something dark—sandalwood or patchouli mixed with a little motor oil—and all of it so deliciously male she never wanted to stop breathing him in. She was soaking wet simply from kissing him, from feeling the authority in the way he held her.

You are in big trouble.

She didn’t care.

“Your bedroom,” he muttered from between clenched teeth.

Somehow she stumbled into the house. He was right behind her, holding her wrist hard at the small of her back, his body tight against hers, kissing and biting her shoulder as they moved into the bedroom. He whirled her body in his arms, everything happening so fast she had no time to think. He stripped her nightie off and it fell around her feet, leaving her naked. Then he took a step back and tore his shirt over his head.

“Oh . . .” It came out on a sigh of pure, burning desire.

His body was amazing. Broad shoulders, muscular chest. The washboard abs, the narrow waist. Even his tattoo was sexy—she’d always found tattoos sexy—the words memento mortalitatem tuam, Latin for “remember your mortality,” she knew, tattooed in a line down his ribs on his right side in bold calligraphic script. And oh, God, when had he gotten his nipples pierced? The two small, steel rings made her want to curl her tongue around them.

Her gaze flicked up to his, then down again as she heard him unbutton his jeans, the quiet snick of the zipper coming down. The fact that he wore nothing underneath made her sex clench. But he kept the damn jeans on, the solid ridge of his hard cock hidden beneath the worn denim, tempting her. She could hardly stand it.

She licked her lips. “Jamie—”

“Shh, Summer Grace. I need you to be quiet now, sugar. No discussion. Because now isn’t the time to negotiate and I am going to have to rein myself in to keep things under control.”

“Don’t, Jamie. We don’t need control.”

He stepped forward and slid his hand around her neck. She gasped in pleasure, felt his fingers flex in response.

“Yes we damn well do, sweetheart. No arguments. Just fucking kiss me, girl.”

She sighed through the slight constriction of her throat, loving the way he held her at that edge as she tilted her chin and his mouth closed over hers. She opened to his searching tongue, losing herself in the sweetness of his mouth. In his utter command.

When he pulled away, she was panting.

“Right now you are mine,” he whispered against her cheek, his hand still on her throat, his breath warm on her skin.

“Yes,” she murmured.

Her body already belonged to him. She couldn’t think of anything else at that moment but the desire—the need—coursing through her flesh, taking her over. He was taking her over. If he didn’t really touch her she was going to explode.

With his hand wrapped around her neck using only the slightest pressure, he backed her up step by step until she felt the mattress behind her legs.

“Down you go, now,” he said, his tone quiet. He was so damn commanding he didn’t need to use a harsh tone, a raised voice. She’d imagined a thousand times what being with him would be like—and, as she’d gotten older and discovered her desire for kink, what being dominated by him would be like. But never had she imagined it being this good. This natural.

He exerted the tiniest bit of pressure, guiding her to sit on the bed, her damp thighs hitting the cool sheets.

He leaned over her, clamping his hand a bit tighter. “This time, Summer Grace,” he told her, “it’s just gonna be you and me and the tiniest edge of kink. Because I fucking need you right now. Do you understand? Later, if you want to, we can do full negotiations. But I have to admit I am in no shape to do that. And judging by your eyes, your breath, your silence, by how beautifully hard your nipples are, neither are you, sweetheart. So tell me again. Is this still a ‘yes’?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed, the words whispering on a long sigh. There was no other possible answer.

He smiled, his dimples making small, charming divots in his cheeks, and she had a flash of Jamie at sixteen. That was when she’d first fallen for him. It had only taken fourteen years to get to this point. Fourteen years and her decision to finally end her pursuit of him. But he was right in front of her and she was naked and he was touching her—had kissed her! The kissing was a revelation in itself, the flavor of him still warm on her tongue. The answer had to be yes.

He kept his gaze on hers as he slid his hand down and his fingers bore down on the tender pressure points just below her collarbone, hurting her the tiniest bit. Letting her know his power, that he understood very thoroughly how to cause pain with the simplest touch. Then he moved a bit lower, between her breasts, pressed down, making a small hurting spot deep in her flesh. She sighed into the pain, needing to be touched. Needing to feel that little bit of pain. Needing Jamie. As if he heard her need, he gathered both breasts in his hands, kneading gently, his thumbs teasing her nipples, and pleasure arced into her like an electric current. He pinched one nipple and she gasped.

“Oh!”

“You like that, do you, sugar? Oh yeah, I can tell you do. No, no. Hold still for me.”

He pinched again and she had to bite her lip not to move. It felt so good.

“I can see how hard you’re trying. Good girl. Now try harder.”

He pinched her again, both nipples this time, and she cried out.

“Ah, God!”

“Still,” he ordered.

To her surprise he leaned down and pressed his lips in that space between her breasts where he’d dug into the pressure point there. She let her head fall back with a sigh of pure pleasure. The contrast of sensations was making her head spin. He was making her head spin. That little bit of mind fuck and the fact that it was Jamie. That fact was mind fuck in itself.

“Oh yes . . .”

© Eden Bradley, 2015

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New York Times & USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Eden Bradley aka Eve Berlin writes dark, edgy erotic fiction. Her work has been called ‘elegant, intelligent and sensual’. Her debut novel, THE DARK GARDEN, has been praised as ‘a masterpiece’, and was a Romantic Times Top Pick. Her novels and novellas have been translated into German, Romanian, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Polish and Japanese.
As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences. Eden speaks regularly on BDSM psychology and practice, as well as sex positive culture for women.
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Tuesday, October 06, 2015

RELEASE BLITZ



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Eden Bradley, the author of Dangerously Bound, brings another Dangerous romance to passionate life...
For Jamie Stewart-Greer, BDSM is the perfect way to release the darkness inside him and use it for pleasure. But it’s getting more difficult to hide this side of himself—especially from the one person who elicits his most extreme, secret passions.
When his best friend died, Jamie promised he’d watch over his little sister, Summer Grace. Summer is a nearly irresistible sex kitten who’s been after Jamie since she was fourteen—and she’s absolutely taboo. But now she’s hunting him in his territory—the Bastille, New Orleans’ most infamous BDSM club—and Jamie knows he’s in trouble.
Summer is more than ready to indulge Jamie’s secret kinks, and as their relationship spirals into the darkest recesses of absolute pleasure, it only stirs her desire for more. If Jamie is willing to give Summer what she wants, it’s going to turn love into the most dangerous fetish of all.
Mature Audience

button excerpt




The sound of leather hitting naked flesh reverberated like a low hum in his veins as Jamie entered the main play space of The Bastille. Bodies writhed beneath the dim red and pale gold lights, seemingly in time with the trancelike ambient music. Everywhere were the scents familiar at any BDSM club. Leather. Desire. And very faintly, a little perfume. But the leather—floggers, cuffs, whips—were only one element of kink to whet his appetite. It was always the primeval glint and clank of chains that really did it for him.

A small frisson of heat shivered over his skin, creeping up the back of his neck as he paused to admire a giant web of chain attached to the sleek, black-lacquered wall. It was one of his favorite play stations at the club. The Bastille was his home club, infamous among the kink folk in New Orleans and all over the country. The club was as decadent as the city itself, as sensual as New Orleans’s sultry air. With its dramatic black and red décor, the spectacular equipment, the subs and slaves blindfolded and bound into the wall nooks where one would normally set a tall vase of flowers or a statue, it was the kind of place one only ever read about. But these beautifully still people were as decorative as a vase of flowers in his mind. And this place was far from “normal.” Tonight The Bastille, this wicked den of far-from-normal appetites, would serve him well—as soon as he chose a play partner from among the many gorgeous submissive women available.

They were scattered throughout the club, seated on the plush red velvet settees and chairs in the front lounge area, or watching the activity on the main floor. They were easy enough to spot whether or not they wore the club’s white collar of protection and availability. It was in the furtive glances they cast at him, lashes down, hands clasped in front of them, posture perfect in their rigid corsets. And then there were those who dared to stare boldly at him, lashes batting, a smile on their pretty lips. These were the ones who interested him most, although they always proved to be the most trouble in the end. But he liked a feisty submissive. He liked the challenge.

He liked having a reason to punish them.

Ah, and there she was—the tall brunette who’d made a point of introducing herself the last time or two he’d visited the club. What was her name? She was smiling at him, and there was little coyness in her glance. He smiled back, started to move across the room toward her when his attention was caught by a scene to his left. Maîtresse Renee, an attractive Domme. Like him, she was a regular at The Bastille. She was paddling a petite woman bent over a spanking bench. The girl had a truly spectacular ass that was pinking nicely. It was perfect, really—a perfect heart shape. And she had long, silky blond hair that hung down almost to the floor, obscuring her face. But there was something familiar about her small frame . . .

Maîtresse Renee grabbed the girl’s hair and pulled her upright and his groin tightened as her flawless, small breasts came into view, tipped with pale pink nipples. He’d love to get his hands on her, loved a woman with that build—slight and athletic, yet still utterly feminine. And she had a gorgeous tattoo of a phoenix on her side in brilliant color. He loved tattoos on a woman, especially one of this size and exquisite detail. Beautiful. Who was she? Someone new, that was for sure. He stepped closer, something about the tiny blonde drawing him.

The Domme pulled her head farther back, elongating her throat, and he caught sight of the girl’s profile.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Summer Grace Rae.



© Eden Bradley, 2015

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New York Times & USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Eden Bradley aka Eve Berlin writes dark, edgy erotic fiction. Her work has been called ‘elegant, intelligent and sensual’. Her debut novel, THE DARK GARDEN, has been praised as ‘a masterpiece’, and was a Romantic Times Top Pick. Her novels and novellas have been translated into German, Romanian, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Polish and Japanese.
As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences. Eden speaks regularly on BDSM psychology and practice, as well as sex positive culture for women.
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