Wild Ride (Ready to Ride)
by Opal Carew
Genre: Erotic Romance
Tour Organizer: N K Author Services
Her friend told her dreams come true at Eden,but this is more like a nightmare.Marissa is shaken when her bad-assed biker ex-boyfriend begins to stalk her. After receiving an invitation to an exclusive resort called Eden, she jumps at the chance to get away.But even in paradise, she can't escape the man from her past. As he's closing in on her, a passing stranger on a motorcycle pulls up and orders her onto his bike. Frightened and willing to take any chance to flee her dangerous ex, she does as he says.Her knight in supple leather manages to lose her ex and take her to a secret hideaway, but now she finds herself overwhelmed by his potent masculinity and submitting completely to his authoritative commands.Killer didn't want to be her saviour. He had problems of his own. But once Marissa's under his protection, he will do whatever he can to keep her safe. Even force her to face her deepest fears.
Excerpt – Wild Ride (Ready To Ride)
By Opal Carew
Time sped past with the scenery around them as Marissa clung to the stranger on the bike. They’d been riding for about twenty minutes and there was no sign of Rip following them. He might be in pursuit, but would have had to get to his bike, then figure out their path from the town. That wouldn’t have been too hard, though, given there was only one road leading in and out of the small place. Her hope was he’d gone in the other direction.
She wasn’t sure where they were, but the view of the ocean and palm trees which had been the lovely vista around them so far, soon disappeared to become denser foliage as they turned onto a road leading to the interior of the island.
After about an hour, they turned onto another road and soon he pulled off to a clearing and stopped the bike near an idyllic setting complete with a waterfall from a cliff about twenty yards high. He turned off the bike and dismounted. When he pulled off his helmet, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
He had a strong, square jaw covered with scruff, well defined cheekbones, and tousled, wavy brown hair that begged to be stroked. And his eyes! They were brown, but with a golden hue; almost a dark amber in color.
She drew in a deep breath and stuck out her hand. “Thank you so much. My name’s Marissa.”
His gaze fell on her, those golden eyes assessing, and a shiver ran down her spine. Ignoring her hand, he shoved his helmet in the saddle bag on the side of the bike.
“We’re not stopping for long. Stretch your legs and get some water from the bag if you want it. I’m going for a swim.”
He shrugged off his jacket and slung it over the bike, then walked toward the water. Her eyes widened as he continued to strip off his clothes, revealing a broad back, inked with a large bird of prey, wings extended. Then he dropped his pants and she glanced away. But not before she caught sight of the tightest, hottest male ass she’d ever seen.
She climbed off the bike and fished in the saddle bag for a bottle of water, then pulled it out and took a deep sip. A splash alerted her to the fact he’d dived into the water. She walked partway to the water’s edge and sat on a big rock. She’d love to go in the calm, clear water, too. And since she had her bathing suit on under her clothes she did not have to strip down to nothing. But going in the water with the naked man… wouldn’t that be inviting trouble?
She breathed in the hot, heavy air and sweat trickled down her neck and between her breasts. She was sweaty and tired and a dip in the water would revive her.
Ah, hell, trouble was already snapping at her heels. If the guy was going to attack her, her being in or out of the water wouldn’t matter, so she might as well enjoy a nice swim.
She stood up and stripped off her shirt and short denim skirt, then dropped them on the rock. She kicked off her sandals and walked toward the water. The man tread water about ten yards from the small strip of sand. His gaze followed her and her skin tingled at his masculine perusal.
She waded into the water. The bottom sloped deeply so she was quickly in over her head and started to swim. She loved the water and after a few strokes, turned on her back and floated. After a few minutes, she switched to treading water again and realized the man was on the beach, sitting on the sand. Still totally naked.
She swam back to shore. He seemed like the impatient type and she didn’t know if he would decide to climb back on the bike and take off. She walked from the sandy bottom of the water to the small beach, then to the rock and picked up her shirt.
“You’re soaking wet,” the man said. “You can take a few minutes to sit and dry off.”
She nodded and walked to the sand. There were only patchy areas of sunlight making its way through the dense foliage, so she picked a sunny spot a couple yards from where he sat.
She couldn’t believe she was just sitting here with a naked man, who was a virtual stranger, but he seemed to have no interest in taking advantage of her.
He sat cross-legged and she couldn’t help but see his equipment. His impressive equipment.
He tossed her the water bottle she’d opened earlier, then sipped from his own.
“So, why were you running away from that guy?” he asked casually.
Her gaze darted to her face. He had to know she’d been staring at his… uh… cock, but he didn’t acknowledge it in any way. Not even a smirk.
She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Well, it’s a long story, but basically I’m afraid he might hurt me.”
“I used to go out with him and he’s part of a motorcycle… uh… club and, well…” She hesitated, not quite sure how to explain her fears.
His eyebrow arched. “You think all bikers terrorize their ex-girlfriends when they break up?”
She pursed her lips. “No, not really. But just before I broke up with him, there was an incident. One of the others in his group killed his ex. That’s when I found out what he was.”
He frowned. “And what was he?”
“A gang member. A criminal. Probably a murderer. His gang was involved in some very violent incidents.” She shook her head. “Up until I saw that article in the paper, I hadn’t realized what he was. I mean, I knew he rode a motorcycle, but with me he was always…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, a real gentleman.” Her stomach clenched. “I couldn’t believe how wrong I’d been about him.”
“And what about me? You just hopped on my bike without a second thought.”
Her glance darted to him. “Oh, there were second thoughts, but I really had no choice.”
His hard, amber eyes locked on her, sending a chill through her. “You always have a choice.”
Pleasure Point (San Francisco Doms, Book 3)
by Eden Bradley
Genre: BDSM Erotic Romance
Miranda lives in paradise— the exclusive Eden resort, the ultimate in fantasy retreats. Roan, the resort’s dungeon consultant, lives part-time on the island and full-time in the past. When the sexy Dominant and the sultry pastry chef both receive one of the island’s mysterious invitations they spend a sizzling week together in the dungeon suite. They’re left breathless, wanting more… and hopelessly falling. Both have been scarred by loss, both have created a nearly impenetrable shell. The intensity and intimacy of kink might be the perfect recipe to open Miranda’s heart again. But can the man who fulfills her every secret desire ever give her what she needs the most?
Excerpt - PLEASURE POINT
Roan led her to a small sofa upholstered in diamond-tucked red leather and waited for her to sit before seating himself next to her.
“So, here we are,” he said, reaching for a tumbler of water on the table in front of them and pouring her a glass, handing it to her. “Summoned by the Master of the island.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
He touched his fingers to the glass, gave it a small nudge. “Drink, Miranda. And tell me what you think of this place.”
She found herself sipping from the glass, following his instructions.
This is crazy.
She set the glass down on the table and took a moment to look around, noticing the gorgeous and luxurious equipment. There were red leather spanking benches, gleaming chrome chains dangling from the ceiling, some ending in red and black padded leather cuffs. At regular intervals along the slick red and black walls in between the seating areas were shining chrome racks holding floggers, paddles and whips. And the entire room was reflected in enormous, chrome-framed mirrors mounted on the walls. Beautiful and wicked-looking.
“It’s spectacular. Nothing but the best for the Eden resort, so it doesn’t surprise me. But I think I expected there to be other people here,” she said, glancing around, her nerves beginning to prickle at the back of her neck simply from being in the same room—this deliciously wicked room—with Roan Abrams.
“Did you? You knew where you were going, then?”
“Of course. The invitation said to go to Club Sin.”
“Of course. The invitation said to go to Club Sin.”
His eyes were dark, searching her face. “You knew this wasn’t a bar? A dance club?”
“I work here. On the island.”
“Ah. So do I. Well, I come in as a consultant. Tell me what you do here, Miranda.”
“I’m the head pastry chef. But according to the invitation I have the next week off.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek with one warm fingertip, like a tiny shock of need against her skin. There was a small but cocky grin on his generous mouth. “You bake sweets, do you?”
He was too damn handsome. Too commanding. Too… everything. She pulled back. “Which I’m sure you’ve eaten, if you’ve been on the island.”
“I’m certain I have. Working with sugar suits you.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
God, why was she being so rude to this man? Maybe because his stunning good looks and natural dominance were making her think about things she shouldn’t even be considering.
Like his hand coming down on her bare ass. Pulling her hair hard while he kissed her breathless.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice, and she caught his scent—something spicy and earthy. Provocative. “No? I believe I know at least two things about you. One, you were invited here to meet me apparently, since, as you pointed out, we are the only ones here. And two,” he paused, his voice a quiet murmur, “the pulse in your lovely throat is racing.”
“Oh.” She put her hand to her neck for a moment, saw him watching and dropped it down to her side. She had to get herself under control. She cleared her throat. “Why do you think we were invited here? I don’t know what the Master could have been thinking.”
“Am I so repulsive to you, then?”
“What? No, of course not.” Then she saw the teasing twinkle in his eye, the slight curve of his lips, and her cheeks flamed. “I mean, no. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Her gaze narrowed on his. “And you’re having an awful lot of fun playing with me.”
“Ah, I hope to.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got the wrong girl, Mr. Abrams.”
“Roan,” he said. “And I’m fairly certain—quite certain—I don’t. I have a particular knack for these things. You are definitely the right girl, in the right place. With the right Dominant. And even if I were fallible in this regard, Mr. Vardalos is rarely wrong about these things—sending out the invitations. From what I’ve heard.”
“I’ve heard plenty myself, but I don’t know how much of it to believe and how much is simply clever marketing for Eden.”
“I doubt the resort needs much in the way of marketing since it’s by invitation only. Our benefactor has plenty of money—he didn’t build this place because he needs to turn a profit.”
“He’s my employer, not my benefactor. I work hard for my paychecks.”
“Of course. I never meant to imply anything else.”
She really had to calm down and stop being so damn defensive. This man wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
Oh, you are such a liar. Half the conversation has been calculated mind-fuck.
It was working, damn it. She crossed her legs against the warm ache between them.
She cleared her throat again. “So, what do you do for Mr. Vardalos?” she asked.
“I designed this place, for a start. About four years ago. And the Victorian spanking suite, and the other BDSM suites. He has me back here periodically to make changes, to check equipment, come up with new ideas.”
“You designed this place? The club?”
“Yes, and much of the equipment.”
“Oh…” It came out on a soft breath. Her fingers tightened on her small clutch purse. This man—this Dominant—was definitely going to be more than she was ready for. He was the real thing, high caliber in the kink realm, obviously. No weekend player. Oh, yes, far too real for her, no matter how insanely attracted to him she was. “I think…I think this was a mistake.”
“Again, Miranda, I’m certain it wasn’t.”
She stood. “No. It was definitely a mistake. Look, Roan…I don’t mean to be rude. Really. But I’m not…this is not for me. None of this. You. This place. I have to go.”
© Eden Bradley 2014
Meet the Authors
Hi. I'm Opal Carew, a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. I write erotic romance for St. Martin's Press and Samhain Publishing, and I self-publish stories. I also write romance as Amber Carew.
So why do I like writing erotic romance? I like being able to push beyond traditional boundaries. I like dealing with a female character who is growing and evolving - questioning her sexual boundaries and pushing past them. My stories usually include menage a trois. It is great fun to write a heroine choosing between two equally appealing heroes... or more.
These aren't women who just jump into bed with anyone. They find themselves in an unusual situation - something exciting and erotic - but a situation where they have to push themselves beyond their comfort level. As a result, they grow as a person. So often fear holds us back - of what others will think of us, of what we will think about ourselves - and we don't follow our hearts. These women push past that fear.
To learn more about me and my books: