SOMETHING MORE
(The Three Graces Book 3) by Nia Farrell, a BDSM MFM ménage erotic romance from
Dark Hollows Press.
Two brothers, a biker and a porn star,
are on a mission: to find and fetch the girl they thought was dead. When Rae Simmons aka Rachel Givens comes face
to face with her past, the single mother with a special needs child learns just
how much more she can handle.
Barnes and
Noble " http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/something-more-nia-farrell/1122797262?ean=2940151160094
BLURB: Loving
a biker and his porn star brother came at a terrible price. Taken by a rival gang, beaten beyond
recognition and sexually assaulted, Rachel Givens saw a chance to survive by
claiming the identity of the other girl who was taken and killed. She spent months recovering from her physical
injuries but still struggles with post-rape PTSD. Add her three-year-old autistic daughter to
the equation, and Rachel (now Rae Simmons) has her hands more than full as she
makes a new life for themselves in a quiet little town.
When her former loves walk into the
restaurant where she works, it’s clear that the Colson brothers have come for
more than the plate lunch special. Once
Rachel gladly submitted to their domination, but she hasn’t been with a man
since she was taken. She has triggers
and issues and a daughter whose needs come first. Cord and Cam don’t care whether or not Hannah
is theirs. As far as they’re concerned,
Hannah is Rachel’s and Rachel is theirs – and they’ll do whatever it takes to
convince Rachel that they belong together.
EXCERPT: It’s
two hours before I normally pick up Hannah. Two and a half hours before I start
getting charged by the minute. Rules are rules, and there are penalties to be
paid. As I drive to the motel, I think of all that’s gone on, of what each of
us owes the others, and wonder how it’s going to play out. My question is
answered when Cord opens the door. The warmth of the room hits me first, then
the sight of both men, shirtless and barefoot, dressed in their Dom leather
pants.
Cam stands beside the
turned-down, king sized bed, dangling handcuffs and holding a deerskin flogger.
“Clothes off,” Cord tells me.
“Then kneel.”
They want my submission as much
as I need to give it. This is different than being at the mercy of men who have
none. Cam and Cord take only the power that I allow them to have. They can
restrain me, spank me, flog me, cane me, and I will let them, trusting that, if
I tell them to stop anything, at any time, they will. Kink doesn’t preclude
sex, but I know they’ll want it. It’s possible that we may have it. But that
remains to be seen.
I take off my clothes, freeing
myself as I do, revealing the web of white veins etched on a once-gravid belly,
the faint marks on my wrists made by zip ties, the scars on my chest and back
from knife blades, brass knuckles, and lit cigarettes. The back of one shoulder
bears two opposing half-circles, made by one man’s teeth. He was the worst. The
thing that he said he wanted to do–
It turned off the others so
much, they made him wait. He would have been the last one to use me. He would
have maimed me, then killed me.
Monster.
I don’t feel the least bit
guilty, hoping he died a horrible death.
Naked, I assume the position
they taught me, kneeling on the floor with legs apart and my hands behind my
head, breasts thrust out like a naughty forties pinup, wearing only their names
in flowery script, inked on the inside of each thigh: Cameron and Cordell.
I’d insisted on their real names, not titanic Jamie or biker Cruz but who
they always were. Who they always will be. Mine.
Cord strokes
my cheek, his callused fingers gently rasping my skin. “Angel,” he murmurs, his
voice thick, his eyes suspiciously moist. “I’ve missed you. We both have.”
I don’t want
to think of where I was or where he’s been, but a question looms as large as an
elephant in the room. “May I speak, Sir?”
Cord lifts his
hand, takes it away, and drops it to his side. “Yes.”
The loss of
his touch leaves me achingly bereft. I struggle with how I should phrase what
needs said. The tests for STDs while I recovered in the hospital and while I
was pregnant all came back good, and I haven’t been with anyone since. There’s
no way they’ve both been celibate. Maybe Cord.
Maybe.
Even prison
life gets lonely.
“I’m not on
birth control. If this goes beyond discipline, protection will be worn from the
beginning. No putting it on midstream. Not until we’ve been tested and cleared
and I’m protected. And no blindfold. I need to see you. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Moving like a big cat, Cam crosses the room to where I am kneeling. I know from
the hitch in his gait when he’s close enough to see my scars.
“Fuck. Fuck.”
He closes his eyes and inhales sharply, gathering himself. When he can bring
himself to look at me again, tears shimmer in his eyes. “Come here, sweetheart.
Let’s get you on the bed.”
Nia Farrell’s Facebook
author page ➔ https://www.facebook.com/?q=#/pages/Author-Nia-Farrell/1678898589004941?ref=bookmarks
Follow Author Nia
Farrell on Tumblr ➔ http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com/
Follow Author Nia Farrell on Twitter ➔ https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell
Follow Author Nia Farrell on Twitter ➔ https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell
The Three Graces Series by Nia Farrell
from Dark Hollows Press
SOMETHING
ELSE August 25, 2015
SOMETHING
DIFFERENT September 29,
2015
SOMETHING
MORE October 15,
2015
No comments:
Post a Comment