Inn of the Vampires by Madeline Oh

The Inn of the Vampires (Collection)

by Madeleine Oh Cover art: Sahara Kelly

ISBN: 978-1-60521-653-9

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Bisexual and More, Vampires, Werewolves

Series: L'Auberge Pipistrelli

Length: Collection

Page Count: 148

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1675
Blurb:

Can love offer hope for a lasting relationship between a lupo mannaro and a vampire?
L'Auberge Pipistrelli -- The Inn of the Vampires... Owned and operated by three sibling werewolves. Every luxury is assured and the management is committed to meeting the guests' every need -- from fine cuisine and excellent wines to total sensual satisfaction.
Elaine Vargas comes to the Inn of the Vampires at the urging of her friend, Lucia Mannaro. As a mature werewolf, Elaine needs a mate, and Lucia thinks one of her brothers might just suit. Once Elaine meets Luc, their lives will never be the same. Meanwhile, Marcel finds himself providing his own special brand of entertainment for a guest who enjoys bondage.
Maria Lucia Mannaro comes home intent on taking her place in the family business. Fortunately her big alpha wolf brothers don't know about the vampire lover, Acelin, she's come home to, or they'd be even more annoyingly overprotective.
Still, life is close to perfect -- until Elaine Vargas returns. Now Luc faces the quandary of his life. Can love and passion offer any hope for a lasting relationship between a lupo mannaro and a loup garou?
This collection contains the previously released novellas in the L'Auberge Pipistrelli series: Service with a Smile, Scented Nights, Kiss the Cook, and Pleasure a la Carte.

Excerpt:
The Inn of the Vampires (Collection)
Excerpt from Service with a Smile
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Madeleine Oh

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"You did what?"

Luc shrugged. Marcel had woken up in a bad mood.

"What the hell did you bring Jules Batteau into this for?"

He was tempted to let his brother rant on. After all, hypertension wasn't a worry for lupo mannaro and the guests had left for the day so they weren't around to be disturbed but no point in letting him get too full of hot air.

"I'd accommodate the Harshbargers, but I'll have to man the bar tonight. I can hardly ask Paul to when he gets up at dawn. We agreed not to have any of the women behind the bar and you won't want to, as your Mademoiselle Leroux arrives this afternoon."

That got Marcel's attention. "Claire? Why did you not remind me?"

"I'm reminding you now." Honestly. Marcel's attachment to this human was amusing. "She's here for just one night. So I presume you will want time to devote to her comfort."

Marcel's reply was closer to a lupine growl than human speech but Luc got his meaning. "Understand, now, why we need Jules' assistance? I can hardly ask one of the human staff to take on the job."

Marcel nodded. "Fair enough but I don't like the idea of vampires in the house. They belong out in the tower."

Luc agreed one hundred percent. "And that's where he'll return, but Maria promised this couple -- or rather the wife -- a romantic getaway in the south of France and they deserve their money's worth."

"Pity you couldn't have done the job last night."

Luc ignored that. It was none of his brother's business what he did last night. "At least it will keep Maria happy."

"Talking of Maria. Isn't it time she came home? Who knows what sort of werewolves she's associating with out there."

"You want to tell her that?"

"You should. You're the eldest."

Luc couldn't hold back the laugh. "But I was the one who suggested she leave."

"All the more reason you should tell her to come back."

Didn't sound logical to him, but damn he did miss her, and now that family of annoying loup garous had moved (damn French shifters thought they were the equal of the lupo mannaro) there was no danger of that trouble surfacing again. "Maybe I should. By the way, would you look over the dinner menus? Chef had some question about the sauce for the mullet." Or was it the haddock? Either way it got Marcel out of his hair.

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Submissive Games Collection by Madeline Oh

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Submissive Games (Collection) by Madeleine OhCover art: Sahara Kelly ISBN: 978-1-60521-507-5 Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary), BDSM Length: Collection

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1519

Blurb:

Four sexy stories set in Madeleine Oh's BDSM universe. Dominants, submissives and newcomers to the scene all find love and passion in this not to be missed collection.
Power Games: John Kent only agrees to make up a foursome to oblige his old friend Mark. But when Aunt Ellen turns out to be an enticing young widow, and a submissive, John's Dom instincts take over...
Submissive Games: Tom Baldwin is a national heartthrob -- and a sexual submissive. Claudine Wallace is a professional Dominatrix with an exclusive clientele. A purely professional relationship. And Tom's about to break all the rules... no matter what the cost.
Sexy Games: When a tall, dark-haired, sexy man suggests they skip out on the assembled partygoers, Jenny agrees, for an evening of spectacular sex. But Basil Wallace plans on tying Jenny down -- in more ways than one.
Dominant Games: Ian Bennett is intriguing, but Julie knows from past experience how badly things can go when you fall for the wrong man. It's up to Ian to convince her he's the perfect Dominant to meet her submissive needs, not just for one night, but for a lifetime.
Excerpt:
Submissive Games (Collection)
Excerpt from Power Games
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
"Train's late," Mark muttered, looking at his watch. "It should have been here at seventeen past."
It was seven twenty. "Cheer up. It'll get here. And with a bit of luck, she'll have missed it and you'll have a perfect opportunity for discipline."
Mark snorted. "Chance will be a fine thing. Doubt I'll even get to go home with her. I can hardly, in all decency, ask her to stay in town with me and leave the poor old lady to hoof it down to Guildford on her own."
"Mark!"
They both turned. And stared. Annie and a woman in a red dress ran towards them.
"The train came in early, at platform seven instead of nineteen. We were waiting for you there, then Aunt Ellie suggested you might be waiting where you expected us to arrive, so we came over here." She kissed Mark and gave John a smile and a hello. "Let me introduce my aunt, Ellen Forsythe. Aunt Ellie, this is Mark Hanson and John Kent."
Old aunt indeed! Had Mark been having him on? No, he was stunned, too. "How do you do?" John offered his hand for a decidedly confident handshake.
Her bright green eyes crinkled at the corners. "How do you do?"
She turned to Mark and shook his hand. The man remembered, just in time, to shut his mouth, sparing them a view of his tonsils.
"Thank you for letting me elbow into your evening. I tried to convince Annie to let me stay home, but she insisted and when I heard we were going to Chez Robert, I capitulated."
"I'm glad you did," Mark replied. The lad was getting his composure back. "It's a pleasure to meet anyone in Annie's family."
She chuckled. It was deep, throaty and sensual. "Ah ha! Now I understand, you want me to tell you all about her murky past. Like the time she streaked in front of the bishop."
"Oh, please!" Annie still blushed. It was rather sweet, John supposed. "Don't forget to mention I was fifteen months old at the time."
"I could always counter," John said, "with how Mark was a page at my aunt's wedding and peed on one of the gravestones in the churchyard."
"Thank you, John, so very much, for sharing that little edifying tidbit," Mark almost snarled.
A stifled snort came from Ellen's direction.
"If you two have quite finished with your 'embarrassing things we did before we could speak' stories. Mind if we get a taxi?" Annie wasn't enjoying this any more than Mark.
"Brilliant idea," John said. "Lead on, Mark."
Mark and Annie went ahead. John fell in step beside the aunt. The stunning aunt to be exact. What else do you call a tall woman in a vivid red dress, eyes that crinkled at the corners, a sexy smile and dark hair curling around her face? She had a few gray hairs in among the dark, but, to be honest, he'd pulled several out that very morning.
"You've known Mark all your life?" Ellen asked.
"You could say so. Our mothers were distant cousins and our fathers were half brothers. We were always at the same endless family functions. Have to be honest, at the same memorable wedding, my brother and I got walloped for climbing on a great stone sarcophagus. We were old enough to know better."
"Being old enough to know better seldom makes any difference." His laugh had Mark looking back at them. Let him look. "I doubt you're impartial," she went on, "but he's a good man, is he?"
"Are you doing a worthiness assessment?" He should have guessed.
"Good God, no! Wouldn't presume. Annie has her head screwed on right. But I have a bossy older sister who needs a report on the honorableness or otherwise of his intentions, if he's gainfully employed and if he's a potential wife beater."
Was she psychic or just flippant? "As you said, I'm scarcely a disinterested party, but he's held the same job since he came down from Oxford and he's obviously nuts about Annie." Question number three was none of her business.
"Not sure about the wife beating, eh?" She paused. "Do you think it's consensual?"
Heaven give him strength. "Oh! Mark's got a taxi. Come on."
Mark and Annie climbed in first and sat together. Ellen flipped down one of the back facing seats, smoothed her swingy skirt and gave John a long, assessing look sideways. Did he want to ask her what the hell she meant, or pretend he hadn't heard? Neither seemed quite right. Hell, he was a Dominant. He was in control. He led. Had Annie confided in her aunt? What was the woman after? Whatever it was, she was getting under his skin, and that darn perfume of hers was distracting to the nth degree.
But he wasn't going to let things get out of hand. He'd agreed on this as a favor to Mark, and darn it, he was not going to let a stray comment -- a very on target and pointed stray comment -- rattle him.
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L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Pleasure a la Carte by Madeline Oh

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L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Pleasure a la Carte by Madeleine OhCover art: Sahara Kelly ISBN: 978-1-60521-317-0 Genre(s): Paranormal Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves Series: L'Auberge Pipistrelli Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1440
Blurb:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli
St Pierre sur Clure
Alpes Maritimes.
Nice 30 km, Grasse 15km.
Comfortable accommodations in a restored country manor house and surrounding cottages. Every luxury assured. The management is committed to meeting the guests' every need -- no matter what it takes.

Maria is now head chef of the Auberge, and very content with her vampire lover, Acelin. Life is close to perfect -- until Elaine Vargas returns to L'Auberge Pipistrelli and Luc faces the quandary of his life -- can love and passion override deep seated and intense prejudice? Is there any hope for a lasting relationship between a lupo mannaro and a loup garou?
L'Auberge Pipistrelli -- The Inn of the Vampires... owned and operated by werewolves.
Excerpt:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Pleasure a la Carte
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Luc Mannaro stared at the computer screen in disbelief. After months of near silence (a few exchanged e-mails didn't count) Elaine was coming back. Not just coming back to stay at L'Auberge Pipistrelli, but coming back for the full moon. That meant she planned on running with them, as her wolf.
Given as she'd saved his lupine hide last time she'd shared the hills with him, he couldn't complain. Besides, he had a connection with Elaine Vargas that had him thinking of her as a potential mate.
But -- and this was a stumbling block of major proportions -- how on earth could he even consider taking a loup garou as a mate, when Marcel and he had exiled Maria for the very same reason?
She'd been nineteen and far too young to mate anyway, but the idea of one of their ancient lupo mannaro lineage consorting with a mere loup garou had sent both Marcel and him into a flat panic.
It was close to impossible, but now he was considering the same possibility.
Maria would flip her lid. After she savaged him. He knew he could hold his own against her, but she'd grown into a strong and fierce wolf. She wouldn't let him get away unmarked. Ever.
"You're looking very pensive," the woman of his thoughts -- at least the sibling oriented ones -- said from the doorway. "Something wrong?"
"Just looking at the new bookings. There's a guest returning. I think she was one of your recommendations. Elaine Vargas."
Maria smiled and came to lean over his shoulder and look at the computer. "Did she enjoy her stay? She mentioned she was coming here but I never heard from her afterward."
Just as well. The last thing he needed was to be the subject of girl talk. "Seems she did enjoy herself." And him, although the pleasure was mutual. "She's coming back."
"Good! I'd love to see her again." Maria started to leave and he let out a breath. Too soon, she turned back and gave him a really wicked grin. "Which of you two entertained her? Or did you make it a threesome?"
"For crying out loud, Maria! What do you think we are?"
Her raucous laugh was totally unnecessary. "I think, dear brother, that the pair of you do everything in your power to send guests away satisfied. So, who took care of Elaine?"
She wasn't going to give up. "I did."
The laugh wasn't raucous this time, it was downright mischievous, with a sneaky little bit of dirty. "Good. She was pleased about everything? You were okay?"
He let out a low growl. The way she leaned on the doorjamb suggested she wasn't going anywhere for a while. He might as well tell her.
Better him than Marcel.
"She went home happy, very happy I hope, and you might as well know, she saved me after I got caught in a trap. An illegal trap, I hasten to add. She got me free and drove Marcel and me home on her back seat. If you'd mentioned she was a shifter, it would have been thoughtful."
Maria shrugged. "If I had mentioned she was loup garou, I bet you'd have been full that weekend."
True.
"So?" she asked.
"So what?"
"What did you think of her, aside from her reprehensible bloodlines, of course?"
That was a very, very pointed dig. Understandable, he supposed, but had they used those very same words?
"Maria, did we really hurt you so much? We thought it was just calf love and he wasn't the right sort for you. What did you say he did for a living? Run a body shop? You have the heritage of the Mannaros in your blood."
"Oh, Luc, honestly!" She turned and walked away. Or rather strode away, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
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Pearls by Madeleine Oh

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Pearls by Madeleine Oh cover art by Marteeka Karland ISBN: 978-1-60521-467-2 Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary), BDSM Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More Length: Montage

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1427

Blurb:

Pearls: Pearls make the perfect anniversary gift... wherever you wear them... like a negligee, it's all about who's removing them. And how. (BDSM)
The Green Man: A woman. A car. A lonely road... sometimes when things go crash in the night there's more at work than just the weather. (Paranormal, Dark Fantasy)
Jasmine: Be careful what you say to a writer. Especially a mystery writer -- particularly if she happens to have been your childhood sweetheart -- and the woman you dumped two decades ago. Sometimes revenge is a dish best served cold. There's always room for another twist in Jasmine's plots... (Bisexual)
Women Know: Jamie's Turkish lover has asked that she follow his cultures' traditions. But a bikini wax is more than she's willing to have done in her local salon. A visit to his sister seems in order. Her lover assures her "Our women know what to do." And he's right... (Ménage; Bisexual)
Publisher's Note: Vintage Madeleine Oh -- Four stories from long ago revisited.Excerpt:
EXCERPT:
Pearls
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"For you."
When Robert speaks, in his slow, deep, "I've got a surprise for you" voice, he gets my undivided attention. Chicken with Holy Basil can't compete.
This was our wedding anniversary and I expected a surprise. But what? A bright, red butt plug with a green ribbon around the base? A pale-as-the-inside-of-an-oyster shell vibrating egg? Quilted purple silk restraints? That had covered Christmas and Easter and my birthday.
Our first wedding anniversary could be anything.
He set a black, velvet jeweler's box on the table. Had Robert turned conventional? Buying me a string of pearls or perhaps an add a bead necklace? Possible, but highly improbable.
He nudged the box closer to my wine glass. "Open it."
I had it opened just enough to glimpse the white satin lining in the lid when our waiter reappeared. All he wanted was reassurance our meal was perfect but I almost slammed the lid on my finger. Maybe it was matinee length pearls, but you can't be too cautious in public. Not when you're married to Robert Kelly.
Checking to make sure no solicitous waiter or maitre d' loitered, I snapped open the velvet lid. It was pearls, all right, but I'd never wear these to the opera -- I hoped.
Nestling against the velvet padding and almost reflected in the gleaming satin lining of the lid were six large pearls, strung on a fine twisted cord, one end sporting a polished metal ring, plenty big enough for hooking and tugging with a strong middle finger.
I did an involuntary Kegel exercise imagining how they'd feel pushed one by one up my asshole. Knowing how the butt plug stretched and stimulated as Robert pulled it out, my stomach churned jasmine rice and holy basil imagining six round beads exiting my tight opening one by painful one.
I was so wet thinking about it, I was scared I'd leave a damp patch on the upholstered seat. Wearing no panties didn't help in the least. I should be used to that by now, but I wasn't. I never crossed the street without thinking about my mother's warnings in case I got run over.
Sitting in the Thai Pavilion, smelling my own arousal while Robert smiled promises at me across the pink linen table cloth, I wanted to shove back my chair, grab my husband's hand and drag him home to bed. But Robert ordered mango mousse, which I ate one tiny bronze spoonful at a time and never tasted a thing.
By the time he'd sipped the last of his decaffeinated espresso and finished signing the credit card slip, I could feel myself soaking through my skirt and I was panting as I settled on the soft leather upholstery of Richard's Mercedes. Only a ten minute drive, fifteen max, even if every light was against us, and we'd be home.
I was ready and willing for whatever Robert had in mind, even six gleaming pearls up my asshole.
What Robert had in mind was having me strip in the garage. I half-expected him to fuck me over the hood of the car, but no, while I was stepping out of my shoes and getting ready to roll my lace-top stockings down, he grabbed me by the waist and tossed me over his shoulder. My head was hanging halfway down his back, face rubbing against his Tussore silk jacket, while he held my ankles in one hand and stroked my butt with the other. I was tempted to wriggle and complain, but with my ass literally under his hand I decided against it. That part of me was going to get enough attention tonight, no point in getting it reddened as well. Besides, I was more worried about one of the neighbors seeing as Robert carried me across the breezeway into the house.
Once inside, Robert eased me down his body. Every inch, from my shins and knees to my boobs and my face, rubbed the warm, rough surface of his jacket as he lowered me until my feet touched the cool, tiled kitchen floor.
"Happy anniversary," he said and kissed me.
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L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Kiss the Cook by Madeline Oh

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L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Kiss the Cook by Madeleine Oh cover art by Sahara Kelly ISBN: 978-1-60521-318-7 Genre(s): Paranormal Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves Series: L'Auberge Pipistrelli Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1410

Blurb:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli
St Pierre sur Clure
Alpes Maritimes
Nice 30 km, Grasse 15km

Comfortable accommodation in a restored country manor house and surrounding cottages. Every luxury assured. The management is committed to meeting the guests' every need -- no matter what it takes.
Maria Lucia Mannaro returns to L'Auberge Pipistrelli intent on taking her place in the family business. Her big Alpha Wolf brothers are not entirely comfortable with her determination to take over as Head Chef. Fortunately they don't know about the vampire lover she's come home to, or they'd be even more annoyingly overprotective.
Meanwhile, Marcel finds himself providing his own special brand of entertainment for a guest who enjoys bondage.
L'Auberge Pipistrelli, The Inn of the Vampires (owned by werewolves). Guest satisfaction guaranteed, no matter how unusual the request...
Excerpt:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Kiss the Cook
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"La Contessa Italia-Pucci!" Marcel Mannaro grinned at his brother, Luc. Grin wasn't the right word. Lasciviously leered was closer. "We are moving up in the world. Haven't had a real title in a couple of years. Remember that nymphomaniac duke's daughter?" It had been the daughter who was the nympho, not her stiff-backed father, but she'd been a very happy customer.
"How could I forget?" Luc replied. "Oh, and by the way, La Contessa comes recommended by your Mademoiselle Leroux."
"Claire sent her?"
Now it was Luc's turn to grin. "She did indeed."
Marcel chuckled, and why not? It bucked up a wolf's ego to hear his sexual prowess had been lauded by a happy customer. Not that many clients left L'Auberge Pipistrelli unsatisfied. Keeping customers very, very happy was the specialty of the house.
"Heard any more from that Mademoiselle Vargas?" Marcel asked, not even looking up from the computer screen.
Luc was tempted to snort, but that was so human, and he was feeling rather lupine after a night running over the hills. A month before on the first night of the full moon the said Mademoiselle Elaine Vargas had rescued him, Luc Mannaro, of the ancient and noble line of lupo mannaro, from a bear trap.
Elaine had been magnificent in bed, and his heart knew they were mated in the way of wolves, but he hadn't quite come to terms with the fact she was mere loup garou and could shift at will. At the time he'd been most grateful she could, as neither he nor Marcel could have opened that damn trap with their paws, but he'd been soul searching since she went home. Was she really more powerful than he was? If so, should he let that matter? And the final quandary, was he ready to be mated?
Not getting anything more than a brief e-mail a few days after she left hadn't helped his uncertainty. Maybe it was about time he had another woman to help clear his mind.
"If I might intrude on your dirty thoughts?"
Damn Marcel! Luc raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"
"There's a car coming up the drive."
It could get here on its own couldn't it? "And? Have we started meeting guests with a guard of honor?"
"Getting tense, brother? You need a good screw," Marcel added, totally unnecessarily.
"We don't have any more guests arriving until tomorrow. It could be Jardon delivering this week's cheese and Paul just took off."
"You see to him then."
"You deal with him. I don't know what you ordered." He did if he bothered to look in the computer but what the heck? Luc shrugged. Might be just the distraction he was looking for. It was a definite distraction, just not in that way.
He glanced as the car pulled into the courtyard. A small budget car, not the sort of vehicle that usually pulled up at their front door. Some tourist driven up from Nice perhaps. It happened sometimes. A while back they'd even had two students mistake them for a youth hostel.
But this driver seemed to know where they were going. They parked neatly on the far side of the front door and killed the engine before opening the door.
One glimpse of the driver and Luc was racing into the hall and toward the front door, yelling over his shoulder to Marcel to come quick. "It's Maria Lucia!"
The tall, dark-haired woman leaned against the car, one ankle crossed over the other. "Hello, brother," she said, her mouth twitching. "I thought I'd drop by and see..."
He didn't wait to hear what she was coming to see, just grabbed her by the waist, twirled her around like he used to when they were children and kissed her. "My God, Lucia," he said as he set her back on her feet. "Ever thought of letting us know you were coming?"
She grinned. "I thought about it, but decided not to bother. Easier to drive on down. And you know better. No one's called me Lucia since I was a girl. I'm Maria."
"Mother of all Wolves!" Luc said, and hugged and kissed her again. "You don't know how glad I am to see you."
She tilted her head to one side. "It's good to be back. Where's Marcel?"
"Here!"
She ran toward Marcel. Luc told himself not to be jealous. Hadn't he seen her first? "So, you came back at last," Marcel said.
"At last?" Maria repeated, arching her eyebrows in the way Luc remembered so well. "I came back when it suited. I had things to take care of." Marcel had better go easy or she'd remind them how they sent her away. "Did you both miss me?" she asked, looking from one to the other and grinning. No, smirking!
She was back hugging Luc, then both of them at once before she caught sight of Paul crossing the courtyard, and he got a hug.
"I hope they promoted you from prep and washing dishes," she said.
"Oh, yes, I'm breakfast chef now," Paul replied, returning her hug and grinning at her.
"Wonderful! Is Chef Georges still holding the fort in the evenings?"
"Of course," Luc replied.
"Although he's still talking about retiring," Marcel added.
Damn. His brother should keep his mouth shut. Better not let Paul get ideas. Not for a few years anyway.
"Great," Maria said. "Now tell me," she went on, looking from him to Marcel. "Are the roses out on Maman's patio?"
They were, and while Paul offered to carry her cases to her old rooms and Marcel went off to scurry up coffee, Luc took her through the building and out to the private patio that overlooked the valley.
Maria didn't settle, but paced from one side to the other, smelling the roses and looking out at the view and up at the building as if to reassure herself it was still there and she really was back.
Damn! Had they done the wrong thing sending her away? What else could they have done? Marcel and he had talked this over umpteen times and both had agreed, she could not be allowed to continue the affair with that damn loup garou. At least he was no longer in the area.
Maria took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was back. For better or worse she was back home. Now, how to break the news to her brothers as to exactly why she'd come home.
Later.
Might as well enjoy being the welcomed ewe lamb for a few hours before she set their nice ordered world on end.
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L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Scented Nights by Madeleine Oh

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L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Scented Nights

by Madeleine Oh cover art by Sahara Kelly

ISBN: 978-1-60521-314-9

Genre(s): Paranormal, Guilty Pleasures

Theme(s): Bisexual and More, Vampires, Werewolves

Series: L'Auberge Pipistrelli

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1359

Blurb:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli
St Pierre sur Clure
Alpes Maritmes.
Nice 30 km, Grasse 15km.

Comfortable accommodation in a restored country manor house and surrounding cottages. Every luxury is assured and the management is committed to meeting the guests' every need -- no matter what it takes.

Spring comes to L'Auberge Pipistrelli, and so does Elaine Vargas, at the urging of her friend, Lucia Mannaro. As a mature werewolf, Elaine needs a mate, Lucia thinks one or the other of her brothers might just suit. Once Elaine meets Luc, their lives will never be the same.
Excerpt:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Scented Nights
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Marcel Mannaro looked around the newly renovated suite. "Mouton always does a splendid job."
"He should," his brother Luc replied, "for what we pay him." But he had to agree, Marcel was right. From a cavernous area (once a washhouse, but that the guests need never know), Mouton had created sleeping and sitting areas, the latter with a small patio and a view across the valley, and made room for a bathroom of sybaritic luxury complete with a whirlpool tub.
Luc had plans for that tub, the bedroom and the secluded patio with the newly planted lavender hedge.
"Perfect. In fact," Marcel went on. "I might just reserve it now for when Claire comes back next."
"When's she coming? It's already booked."
"When did that happen?"
Oh, my, he was put out. "Last month. A Mademoiselle Vargas. She'd booked earlier and changed the dates. She had reserved the Antibes suite but when I mentioned we had another, recently refurbished, with a view over the valley," (and a few other amenities) "she decided to take that instead." He'd swear Marcel growled, and it wasn't even full moon yet. So what? The newly renovated suite would be perfect for Mademoiselle Vargas.
"Going to take her, are you?"
Luc shrugged. "I will provide the services for which L'Auberge Pipistrelli is justly famous."
"I bet you will."
"Come, now, brother. You have your share of the guests and an exclusive on the delectable Mademoiselle Leroux." Marcel was in a right snit and all because he didn't get first go on that impressive carved bed.
"Who's to say this Mademoiselle Vargas isn't seventy-five and has a mustache?"
At that Luc laughed. He'd done a little research of his own. Most interesting was that Lucia had recommended the auberge. Seemed Mademoiselle Vargas met their sister in America. Lucia seemed to be making the best of her time there.
The brothers walked back across the paved courtyard toward the main house. "What else has to be done today?" Marcel asked. The auberge was empty but guests were expected at the weekend.
"There's that cousin of Paul's who's looking for a job," Luc replied, "and one of us needs to drive over to Vence and talk to the cheese-monger."
"I'll interview the cousin." Marcel sounded downright excited. No point in mentioning their breakfast cook's cousin, if not quite in her dotage, was well into middle age.
"Fair enough. She's looking for work as a laundry maid and I thought it would save on sending it out and be more reliable."
"Hard work for a young woman and rough on the hands."
Luc smiled. Marcel might be in for a surprise. "You talk to her and see what you think. Paul said she really needs the job. I'll go and see what Jules and Alain have for us."
Marcel went to get ready to interview Paul's cousin and Luc headed for the car and drove off down the hill. Might as well stay away all day and give Marcel time to get over his disappointment. Paul's cousin, Arlette, was a good woman and, by all accounts, a hard worker, but not the sort to inspire raging lust in his younger brother. Do him good to have to contain himself.

Copyright 2010 Changeling Press, LLC   http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1359

L'Auberge Pipistrelli by Madeline Oh

L'Auberge Pipistrelli: Service with a Smile

by Madeleine Oh cover art by Sahara Kelly

ISBN: 978-1-60521-316-3

Genre(s): Paranormal, The Fetish Club

Theme(s): Bisexual and More, Vampires, Werewolves

Series: L'Auberge Pipistrelli

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1317

Blurb:
L'Auberge Pipistrelli
St Pierre sur Clure
Alpes Maritmes.
Nice 30 km, Grasse 15km.

Comfortable accommodation in a restored country manor house and surrounding cottages. Every luxury is assured and the management is committed to meeting the guests' every need -- no matter what it takes.

Few visitors come to L'Auberge Pipistrelli in January, but those who do meet a warm welcome, enjoy the fine cuisine and excellent wines, and are assured of total, sensual satisfaction. This January, a special guest receives personal attention from co-owner Marcel Mannaro, and, with a little help from the resident vampire, a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary return home completely satisfied.

But vampires have needs of their own...
Excerpt:
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"You did what?"

Luc shrugged. Marcel had woken up in a bad mood.

"What the hell did you bring Jules Batteau into this for?"

He was tempted to let his brother rant on. After all, hypertension wasn't a worry for lupo mannaro and the guests had left for the day so they weren't around to be disturbed but no point in letting him get too full of hot air.

"I'd accommodate the Harshbargers, but I'll have to man the bar tonight. I can hardly ask Paul to when he gets up at dawn. We agreed not to have any of the women behind the bar and you won't want to, as your Mademoiselle Leroux arrives this afternoon."

That got Marcel's attention. "Claire? Why did you not remind me?"

"I'm reminding you now." Honestly. Marcel's attachment to this human was amusing. "She's here for just one night. So I presume you will want time to devote to her comfort."

Marcel's reply was closer to a lupine growl than human speech but Luc got his meaning. "Understand, now, why we need Jules' assistance? I can hardly ask one of the human staff to take on the job."

Marcel nodded. "Fair enough but I don't like the idea of vampires in the house. They belong out in the tower."

Luc agreed one hundred percent. "And that's where he'll return, but Maria promised this couple -- or rather the wife -- a romantic getaway in the south of France and they deserve their money's worth."

"Pity you couldn't have done the job last night."

Luc ignored that. It was none of his brother's business what he did last night. "At least it will keep Maria happy."

"Talking of Maria. Isn't it time she came home? Who knows what sort of werewolves she's associating with out there."

"You want to tell her that?"

"You should. You're the eldest."

Luc couldn't hold back the laugh. "But I was the one who suggested she leave."

"All the more reason you should tell her to come back."

Didn't sound logical to him, but damn he did miss her, and now that family of annoying loup garous had moved (damn French shifters thought they were the equal of the lupo mannaro) there was no danger of that trouble surfacing again. "Maybe I should. By the way, would you look over the dinner menus? Chef had some question about the sauce for the mullet." Or was it the haddock? Either way it got Marcel out of his hair.
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Hand of the Master by Madeline Oh

The Hand of the Master
by Madeleine Oh

Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-206-7
Genre(s): BDSM
Theme(s): Ménage
Length: Novel

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1123

Blurb:

Recently widowed, Helen Crewe needs a fresh start. A job in the south of France cataloging a private library seems like the perfect change of venue. Once she settles into the luxurious living quarters at Les Santons, she's sure she'll be able to leave the past behind her. Until she awakens in the night to familiar sounds -- a bondage scene being played out in the garden beneath her window between Luc de Prioux and his personal secretary, Branko. In the dark, memories come flooding back.
The library Luc inherited with his grandfather's estate contains dozens of priceless treasures -- rare volumes of beautiful engraved erotica. But none are more priceless than Helen herself. Luc knows what he wants, and he's just the dominant Helen needs in her life. As long as she's willing to share...
Helen's stay at Les Santons promises to be everything she needs. Until a break-in at the estate makes her wonder what she's gotten into...

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The magnificent sunset was a fitting end to a day that had just about blown Helen's socks off. If first impressions were accurate, she'd landed on her feet in gilded slippers. The tour of the estate -- the only word for a property that comprised six different buildings -- went beyond impressive to astounding. Her designated office in the main house was as large as the spacious dining room in the house she'd just sold. Her living quarters were a beautifully furnished apartment over the private gym and it was from her balcony overlooking the gardens and the sea that she watched the sunset before crossing the courtyard back to the main house for dinner.
She'd all but staggered back two hours later. Four generous courses plus half a liter of wine on top of jet lag almost had her keeled over. Meeting her employer for the first time had done nothing to steady her. Luc de Prioux was handsome, charming, far, far too young for her, and hotter than August in Death Valley. She'd thought the secretary, Branko Odic, pretty up there on the bed-worthiness scale but their mutual employer led the pack.
Okay, she had far too much common sense to take off her panties for an employer. Any employer. Even one with dark blue eyes that all but matched the restraints Edwin used to tie her down on the bed, and a slow, sexy smile that crinkled the corners, and a wide, sensual mouth made to satisfy women's dreams. And she wasn't about to dwell on the strong, long-fingered hands and a handshake that clearly showed Luc de Prioux might be young, but damn well knew his place in the world.
It wasn't just the blatant sensuality of the man and his dark curls and tanned skin. It was the dominant air about him that struck chords in her heart and...
Yeah! Right! Better get her mind out of the clouds.
It wasn't easy. Everything about her new employer, from the broad shoulders under his silk shirt to his tanned wrists just visible below his cuffs, the firm chin, strong neck, upright stance and the assurance of his voice that, utterly ignoring the sexy French accent, screamed "Dominant." She had to fight the instinct not to respond submissively, resist the urge to kneel at his feet, to call him "Sir," or whatever the French equivalent was. She had managed dinner without making an utter fool of herself. All she had to do now was keep her dignity for six months.
Tomorrow she'd start work and be too busy indexing old tomes to nourish lustful thoughts. Apart from the three meals a day they would apparently share.
Maybe she'd skip a few meals.
Meanwhile, Helen showered in her almost decadently luxurious bathroom, experimented with the bidet and decided that yes, it really was a handy fixture for a widow in need. After virtuously flossing and brushing her teeth, she sank into the smooth linen sheets under the goose down comforter and was asleep in minutes.
A noise outside awoke her. It was still dark and a silver streak of moonlight lit the wall opposite the foot of her bed. Another sound. Oddly familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Maybe she'd dreamt it.
It came again: the crack of a whip in the air. Either she was dreaming or...
Helen got out of bed. The room was a little chilly in the night. Her robe was still packed, so she padded barefoot and naked across her room to open the window and peer between the slats of the shutters.
She all but gasped as she stared intently, blinked to assure herself she wasn't dreaming before she unlatched the shutters and opened one a few inches to see better. The courtyard garden below her window was lit by moonlight, but it wasn't the scent of early jasmine, the sound of some night bird, or the antique ornamental urns that drew her attention. To the right, a pergola stretched from the house to the edge of the courtyard, and lashed between two of the uprights was a man. Naked to the waist, his skin pale in the moonlight, arms and legs spread-eagled, he looked helpless, vulnerable and magnificent. The night air chilled Helen's shoulders to the point of goosebumps. He had to be cold... Or maybe not.
Her heart did a little flip as the sound repeated. A second man wielded a single tail whip, cracking it in the air and hitting the stone paving with a sharp sound that brought back a flood of memories. Edwin had owned such a whip. They'd bought it together at a fetish fair. He'd never used it on her -- she'd been too chicken -- but just the sound of it was enough to start her creaming.
The second man, dressed in a flowing white shirt, dark breeches and almost clichéd high boots, paced back and forth, circling his victim and cracking the whip at intervals. A wave of envy had Helen wishing she were the one strung up and helpless and the whip wielder were her lover...





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Dominant Games by Madeleine Oh

Dominant Games by Madeleine Oh
cover art by Zuri

ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-072-8

Genre(s): BDSM

Series: Games

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1090

Blurb:

Ian Bennett is sexy and intriguing, but is he the right man for Julie? She’s longed to find a lover who’ll meet her sexual fantasies, but she knows from past experience how badly things can go when you fall for the wrong man. It’s up to Ian to convince her that he’s the perfect Dominant to meet her submissive needs, not just for one night, but for a lifetime.

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

“Julie, I don’t understand you. He’s rich, intelligent, sexy and he likes you.”
Julie Youngman shook her head at her cousin Sallie. “He’s a layabout. Doesn’t have a job. Lives off his father’s money, and got sent down from University for spray painting the master’s car purple.” She skipped over the sexy bit. No arguing there. Ian Bennett was the ultimate in bedworthy. But was he her type?
Even if he was, she wasn’t getting involved with an idler.
“Stop being such a stick in the mud. I could tell a few stories about what you did at Uni. What about the time you and the person whose name we never mention put condoms on every single finger of the Founder’s statue?”
“Oh, come off it.”
“Honest, Julie. Men like him don’t drop into your lap every day of the week. Damn, I’d grab him if he showed the slightest interest.”
“You can have him.” The words came easily, but if Sallie as much as crooked her little finger at Ian, Julie knew darn well she’d go for her like a wild thing.
Seemed Sallie was well aware of that. “I’m not the one he fancies. No one ever sent me chocs like these.” She reached into the box and took another.
That much was true. Julie grabbed one, too, and bit down. Coffee cream with hazelnut. Sallie was right. Wasn’t every week she received boxes of handmade chocolates, delivered by courier. Wasn’t every week she had to cope with Ian Bennett either.
Thing was, Julie thought as she let the tastes of coffee, hazelnut and bitter chocolate meld in her mouth, Ian’s pursuit did flatter her. She’d be less than human if it didn’t, but it also scared the willies out of her. Having fantasies of ardent pursuit by an apparently dominant man was one thing. Actually having to cope with the reality and the ultimate disappointment was another.
Mind you, expensive chocs -- the next one was toasted almond with liquid toffee -- weren’t to be sneezed at.
“So,” Sally asked, eyeing the square one with a crystalized violet on the top, “do you think that’s a cream, and are you going out with him again?”
“I haven’t been out with him once. Yet.” Getting chatted up at a wedding didn’t count.
“But you will, won’t you?”
Yes, she would, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit that out loud. “Hell if I know. Don’t you have to get to work?”
Her cousin grinned at her. “Yes, love. I’ll be off. Give you lots of privacy for when Mr. Sexy Ian calls.”
Only he didn’t call. No doubt waiting for her to call with profuse thanks for the three million calories in a satin and lace covered box. Black satin and lace actually, and shaped like a corset, now if that wasn’t a statement of intent and interest, what was?
Darned if she knew. And did it matter? She’d been on a man free diet for nearly three years. Time to get her feet back in the water, so to speak. Seemed Ian Bennett was offering himself for the job. She’d ignore his overwhelming dominance -- which could be just her imagination after all -- and pretend he was just a nice chap wanting to take her out.
But she still wasn’t quite ready to pick up the phone and hear his slow, sexy voice.
She turned on her computer and sent him a polite thank you e-mail. Social niceties satisfied, Julie had another chocolate -- maple walnut this time -- and made herself a cup of mint tea. Savoring the aroma, she curled up on her sofa and thought long and hard about what to do about Ian Bennett.

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Contract in Blood 2: Finale in Blood (Collection)
by Madeleine Oh

Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-139-8
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Vampires
Series: Contract in Blood
Length: Collection

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1069

Blurb:

Ferda’s never opposed to a three way, but vampires tend to be a jealous lot.
While her vampire smugglers search for a permanent replacement crew member, Ferda discovers Zadde, the only lead to the origins of their mysterious cryogenic stowaway, has been tortured and killed. Ferda proves she’s not beyond a few galactic felonies herself -- if it means finding the truth.
With the authorities as well as bounty hunters hot on their tails, our crew sets out for Frannin, Zadde’s home base, hoping to unlock the secrets of his illicit trade before they share his fate! Together, they have one last chance to set the record straight…

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
A loud crackle on the com and a visual appearing on the holoscreen signaled they’d made contact with Damphir IV. Adlet stepped away from the console and let Drake take over negotiations.
He actually stepped wide away, deciding it was time he got a cup of javabrew from the service hatch. Adlet had always been in awe of Drake, an ancient vampire by any calculations, and a couple of incidents in the past forty-eight hours had added to his caution.
“How do things look?” Rand asked, as he walked onto the space ship’s bridge. “Any luck?”
“Drake’s talking to them now.”
“I hope to the heavens they agree. The pirates got in several hard hits. We need repairs and we can’t go a-roving the heavens with a cryogenically preserved person in the hold.”
That was the big problem that overshadowed all Adlet’s petty anxieties. If the Galactic Police ever got wind that they carried an undeclared cryonic chamber, they’d all end up on some penal planet. That would postpone his returning to university -- but that alternative didn’t hold much appeal.
“Think they’ll let us land?” Adlet asked. Not that Adlet quite got what Drake thought the inhabitants of Damphir IV might do, but if Drake and Ferda saw it as their best option, Adlet was not about to argue.
Still, he had rather mixed feelings about landing on a planet inhabited by vampires. Living with two he could handle. Having one as a lover and offering his blood he definitely enjoyed, but several hundred thousand of them? The thought made his neck itch.
Rand shrugged. “I hope so. If not, we’re in deep shit. Seen Ferda?”
“She went down to check on the… um… passenger.”
The off-ship comlink crackled into life. Not that Adlet could understand a word. “What’s he saying?”
“It’s an old dead language from Terra. Latin. Don’t know it myself. Drake keeps on at me to start learning.”
“Vamps speak it?”
“So it seems. Some always have. Drake says he learned it as a boy. Something to do with an ancient Terran religion.”
Whatever it was, it was unintelligible to Adlet. Which was probably the whole idea. Mind you, he might not understand the words, but he got the gist of it. Drake was arguing with the vamp down on the planet. After a pause, a question was pretty much barked at Drake. Would the unseen speaker talk like that if he was face to face with Drake?
Another pause and Drake replied, in a casual, even voice, then said, “Rand Farrar, Adlet Wirram --” generous pause, apparently for dramatic effect, “-- Ferda Wallace.”
The other end all but exploded, repeating Ferda’s name and then letting out a string of excited gibberish. Okay, it was Latin but sounded like gibberish to Adlet.
Taking his finger off the mike button, Drake threw his head back and laughed, a real whoop and cackle. Adlet had never even seen him let out so much as a smile and now he was roaring his head off?
When Drake got it back together, they exchanged a couple more sentences, brief and agreeable sounding, and ended the transmission.
“Adlet.” Drake swiveled his chair. “Go help Ferda load the canister on the transport pod. We have clearance to land.”
Excerpt from Committment in Blood




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Submissive Games by Madelieine Oh

Submissive Games
by Madeleine Oh

cover art by Karen Fox
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-073-5
Genre(s): BDSM
Series: Games
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1023

Blurb:

Tom Baldwin is a successful actor, a national heartthrob, a sex symbol -- and a sexual submissive. Claudine Wallace is a professional Dominatrix with a client list of politicians, captains of industry and one well-known actor.

A purely professional relationship.

Claudine accepts Tom’s invitation to a weekend in France, in her professional capacity, and plans a weekend of sex games and bondage. Even if they’d both secretly wish for something more from their relationship, there are rules. Lines client and Dominatrix never cross.

Tom’s about to break all the rules… no matter what the cost.

Author’s Note: This story takes place some months before Sexy Games.

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

For the next two hours Tom had nothing to do but revel in the sensations that awaited on the other side of the inner door. Might as well relax and luxuriate in the prospect of an afternoon free from the demands of being Tom Baldwin, actor and heartthrob. Funny really, he got mountains of letters, e-mails, boxes of chocs and offers of lunch, homemade cakes and sex from women all over the country, but the only one who truly satisfied and understood him waited on the other side of the stained glass door.
And she would soon… He smiled. Couldn’t help it. Even back in his boarding school days, when the other boys had salivated -- and masturbated -- over illicit copies of Gentleman’s Pleasure or Bouncy Babes, he’d imagined a strong, beautiful woman who took total charge.
He was damn lucky he was rich enough to afford her. Not that he’d ever, in a million years, ever breathe a word about their relationship. Lord, what would the scandal rags make of it?
The inner door clicked open and a strong, clear female voice said, “Come on in, Tom. I’m ready.”
He bet she was.
He stood, ran his hands through his hair, squared his shoulders and smiled as he pushed the door open and walked into Claudine’s parlor.
She was wearing her usual sweatsuit, a gorgeous scarlet one this time, and she watched as he crossed the length of the Turkish carpet.
“Claudine,” he said, inclining his head. That little gesture of respect sent a shiver of anticipation down to his cock.
“Afternoon, Tom,” she replied. “Punctual as usual. Have a seat.” She indicated the leather floor cushion by her chair.
He sat, glad of the hours of fencing, dance and gymnastics that let him sit down gracefully. One just didn’t thump down on the floor beside Claudine.
“Well,” she said, stroking his head and pulling it closer so he rested against her thigh. “Had a busy morning?”
“An argument with the scriptwriters over the next two installments of the new series, and lunch with an old school friend.”
“Good lunch?”
“Food was. Trouble is,” he paused and she waited. She always did, never interrupted. At least not when he talked. “He’s dying to introduce me to one of his sisters. Nice chap, has a slew of sisters, some already hitched to nice blokes…” Hell, might as well say it. She knew what he was like. “I can’t see myself settling down with a nice woman, buying a house in Surrey and spending family holidays in the Dordogne.”
He loved her laugh. He reminded himself he might love what she did, but he didn’t love her. Only what she could do to him. “No, Tom, I can’t see you happy in the Home Counties.”
He agreed. Growing up in Oxshott had been quite enough.
“All right.” She gave him a pat on his shoulder. “I want you naked, and you’d better be ready when I come in.”
Didn’t take him long. Once in the changing room, he tucked his socks in his shoes, put his trousers in the press and his jacket, shirt and tie on the mahogany valet. He emptied the contents of his pockets onto the side table.
And couldn’t help noticing the leather cock ring beside the box of condoms.
So, she was trying that today, was she? He’d not complain.
Naked, he tightened the band of leather around the base of his cock. Seeing it on the table top had spurred on his erection. Now he was upstanding and ready. Better put the condom on.
Funny really, how he so longed for what Claudine offered. Vanilla sex was fun, and he had plenty of offers, many of which he’d accepted over the years, but what Claudine gave was sheer and utter bliss.
He pulled aside the velvet curtain and walked into Claudine’s play room. A dark oak St. Andrew’s cross stood in the middle of the open space. Tom smiled. Claudine waited. A many tailed flogger -- a red one -- hung from her right hand. She’d shed the sweatsuit and now wore spandex tights and top. She looked ready for, or to give, a tough workout. “You know what to do, boy!”

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Sexy Games by Madeline Oh

Sexy Games
by Madeleine Oh

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-074-2
Genre(s): BDSM
Series: Games
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1007

Blurb:

An appetizer to die for…
It looked like being a boring party, but a tall, dark haired, sexy man changed all that. Accepting his suggestion that they skip out on the assembled company, Jenny agrees, for a evening of spectacular sex. But Basil Wallace wants more than a one-night stand. He plans on tying Jenny down -- in more ways than one.

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

“Hang on!” Nina called as Jenny pulled up in front of the house. “Tom and his friend are here. Let them give you a hand.”
“Super!” And there was Tom Baldwin in all his glory, wicked grin under the no doubt enhanced these days sandy blond mop.
“Jenny!” Tom enveloped her in a lovely hug and his kiss was just right. Enough to surface a few nice memories without resurrecting the shock to her naiveté. “Lovely to see you.”
It was. But much, much lovelier was the man she glimpsed over Tom’s shoulder. “Hello.” Her voice came out a rather tight squeak as she eased out of Tom’s embrace.
“Going to share, old man?” the stranger asked. It was a rich sexy voice, a curl your toes and flip your innards voice. Gad! That smile could melt glass marbles.
“Oh! Baz! Forgot you were there.”
How could anyone, even a rather self-absorbed TV star, forget the male specimen who stood less than an arm’s length behind? Jenny took a deep breath, held out her hand. “I’m Jenny Everly.”
“Basil Wallace.”
Dear heaven, the only Basils she’d come across were Fawlty and Brush, and neither came anywhere close. She looked up into dark blue eyes and grinned. So much for being all cool and soigné. “You came down for the party?” A clue to the connection would be handy here.
“I came down to keep an eye on Tom.”
Good one! She wished she could manage a sexy, enigmatic sort of smile but damn… “That will keep you busy all night.”
“Not too busy, I hope.”
So did she.
“Come on, man! Let’s get this lot unloaded for Jenny.”
And then, of course, she had to stare as Basil Wallace unbuttoned his cuffs with long, tanned fingers and rolled up his shirtsleeves. The sight of muscular forearms was a complimentary extra. His movements were swift and precise, but it didn’t take much to imagine those hands being equally precise but very, very slow. As for the smile that curled his wide mouth…
“Won’t take us long,” Basil said. “Is the van locked?”
Took her a good five seconds to process that with her lust-invaded brain. “Yes, let me get it.” She held out the key fob and pressed the release button. Tom opened the doors to reveal trays of canapés and savories all stacked on their narrow racks.
“And she cooks too!” Baz said, almost under his breath.
Almost, but not quite. Cheeky bugger! Just because she ogled him at first sight didn’t give him the right to get fresh. “You’ve no idea what I can do,” she replied, sliding a tray of shrimp tartlets and smoked salmon rolls from the van and turning sharply to head for the house.
“Let me get that,” Baz said, a half smile -- an apology perhaps? -- curving one side of his mouth.
“No, I have it. Take another one.” Without looking back she headed across the path and through the kitchen door.
“Jenny, dear,” Mrs. Baldwin said. “Lovely to see you, and wonderful of your mother to rustle up all these. She’s incredible.”
Jenny agreed, but it seemed a bit off to say so. “Hello, Mrs. Baldwin. Where’s the extra fridge?”
“In the laundry room.”
Jenny slid her tray into the fridge and turned to see Basil and Tom on her heels. She took their trays and shelved them. Tom nipped out for another, but Basil hesitated. “Coming to the party?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“Good,” he replied, as he walked out.

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