Powered by vBulletin® Copyright ©2000 - 2011, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd This Forum used Arshfny Mod by islam servant
Joof Jansen van Rensburg was shot by neighbour SAPF constable Percy Ledwaba after the cop refused to return a rugby ball accidentially kicked across the wall by the Afrikaner’s grandsons…
22 April 2011. EVANDER. An Afrikaner father and grandfather, Joof Janse van Rensburg, reportedly shot in the stomach on 13 March by SAPS constable Percy Ledwaba in front of the white man’s son and grandsons, has succumbed to his injuries, reports the Ridge Times News in its April 22 2011 edition issue 16. The police constable remains on duty at Evander police station.
A charge of murder will “be investigated against constable Ledwaba”, said SAPF spokesman capt Leonard Hlathi. Meanwhile the constable still remains on his post, he confirmed when questioned by Ridge Times journalist Jana Oosthuizen. Hlathi said he could not confirm persistent rumours in the Afrikaans community that the service pistol with which Mr Janse van Rensburg was shot, still remained at the Evander station until he had investigated the claim. Hlathi said “forensic tests would be done to determine whether a shot was fired’
Mr Jansen van Rensburg and his wife Poppie were visiting with their daughter and her family in Selonica Street in Evander on March 13, watching their grandsons kick a rugby ball around, when the ball accidentially bounced into the neighbour’s yard. Reportedly the neighbour, constable Ledwaba, wasn’t well pleased and refused to give the ball back to the Afrikaner boys - so their dad Frans Viviers, and constable Ledwaba got into a fisticuffs with each other. When the grandfather set to to help his son-in-law, the constable reportedly then pulled out his service gun and shot Mr Jansen van Rensburg in the stomach. TheHe was rushed to Netcare N17 hospital in Springs. Ms Oosthuizen writes that he had since died of his injuries. The Ridge Times also noted that constable Ledwaba wrote in the incident book at the police station on March 13 2011 that he had shot dead Mr Jansen van Rensburg. Hlathi said they will now investigate a case of murder and their findings will be forwarded to the provincial police commissioner in Mpumalanga. “He will decide what will happen to constable Ledwaba,’ said Hlathi. Mr Jansen van Rensburg is survived by his widow, three children, three stepchildren and five grandchildren. His funeral service will take place from the Dutch Hervormed Church at Eendracht.
Please note that my site with the PAST SEVEN YEARS' information on atrocities against white South Africas, was hacked away. It used to be on https://www.censorbugbear.org. I apologize that this information is no longer available online. Anyone needing information about specific cases please email me at a.j.stuijt@knid.nl
For a name-list of murdered white farmers, - smallholders and their family and workers in South Africa, up to April 2011, view:
and for reports of human-rights violations against South African minorities, including whites, after 2011 see: http://censorbugbear-reports.blogspot.nl
'Generally speaking, genocide does not necessarily mean the immediate destruction of a nation, except when accomplished by mass killings of all members of a nation. It is intended rather to signify a coordinated plan of different actions aiming at the destruction of essential foundations of the life of national groups, with the aim of annihilating the groups themselves.
The objectives of such a plan would be the disintegration of the political and social institutions, of culture, language, national feelings, religion, and the economic existence of national groups, and the destruction of personal security, liberty, health, dignity and lives of the members of such groups... '
Afrikaner manager of Wimpy Kempton Park hacked to death in revenge by two black coworkers Sept 6 2009
Afrikaner students threatened intimidated by black SASCO demonstrators University pretoria SRC Sept 2009
Afrikaner woman forced to pose naked for cops; refused medical help for diabetic coma in police-cell
Afrikaners denied public housing rights in long-time Afrikaner suburb Wolmer Pretoria North Aug 2009
anti-ANC riots Zandspruit; black-racist translator sued; homophobe murders; traditional leaders; three more Afrikaners murdered
Bernadine Kruger's accused 'taxi-murderer'heards three witnesses testify to his recklessness Aug 2009
Black KZN Westville student hatespeech; We are born to kill will wipe out all Indians on campus; anti white hatespeech grows; xenophobia
crime rates did NOT drop: SA crime rates nullified at police-station level; South Africa lies about dropping crime-rates
Forensic photographs of murdered Afrikaner and Boer children women and men ordered removed by Microsoft Windows Sky-Drive albums
How many people died in police custody during apartheid? Deaths in SAP cells 1963 to 1990. Deaths in SAPS cells 2012
Poor Afrikaners denied housing rights in long-time Afrikaner residential area of Wolmer Pretoria North Aug 2009
SANDF patrol civilian streets without emergency cause; what are soldiers doing in the streets of Johannesburg?
SAPS criminality soars; SAPS cannot tell difference between bogus criminal cops and real police officers; Dylan Slater
SAPS farm murder statistics not kept seperately; Barnard Capt Renate; anti-white racial discrimination by SAPS proven in Labour Court
South African gold mines stripped of all assets; mining towns under siege from illegal gold-miners. SA mining infrastructure looted destroyed
South African mines will be nationalised; SA has 2.3 violent riots a day; African Exploration Mining and Fiance Corporation
Tourism in SA in crisis; strikers attack white foreign tourists in Nelspruit; key tourism spots closed by vicious strikes South Africa
Why are black SA men so violent; Alberton resident survives gardener attack; axe and pitchfork used to attack employer
The traditional television model has been under assault for quite some time. Everything seems to want to cut into the TV pie, from mobile devices to programming services like Netflix. Ratings continue to go down for even the most popular programs and sports. Even so, viewers still clamor for many of the offerings from TV […]
I’m up to my ears in work right now, but wanted to pop into to tell you about my new sexy paranormal story…
Sidney Coffey, Seattle’s “News at Nine” girl, uncovers the scoop of a lifetime and her ticket into serious journalism. The only problem is–without proof–no one’s going to believe the victims of recent gang killings are in fact “undead” and vampires!
With her gut telling her there’s an even bigger story lurking beneath the surface, she decides to beard a reclusive vampire master in his den for an interview. But meeting the master only complicates things. For a woman with a voracious sexual appetite, the tall, dark and gloomy vamp proves an irresistible challenge.
When a reporter trespasses on his estate, Navarro is at first amused then annoyed that the little baggage is close to putting together the pieces of a dangerous plot involving an old enemy and a group of murdered geneticists. To keep her safe, Navarro issues an invitation he won’t let her refuse.
And if you read HWAP, please think about posting a review to let other readers know whether it’s worth their time and cash. Reviews do matter!
When Noah buys a classic ’68 Camaro from a fellow firefighter’s widow, he hopes it will ease some of the grief crushing his heart. But the grinding noise under the car’s hood sends him straight to a mechanic. Something about the burly, imposing Hoyt sparks Noah’s interest, and it’s not just Hoyt’s ice-blue eyes and bad-boy biker looks. It’s the mutual interest they have—Club LaForge.
After losing his partner to cancer a year ago, Hoyt never thought he’d feel the same kind of rush with another man. But his reaction to Noah throbs deep in his body like the rumble of his Harley.
LaForge seems like the perfect place to meet and work off some sorrow, to feel alive again. But the flood of desire quickly gets hot enough to melt their emotional barriers into unexpected connections.
Connections Hoyt isn’t sure he’s ready for…especially since history has a scary way of repeating itself.
Warning: Get your motor running for a Harley-riding hunk of muscle who doesn’t give a damn about the rules of being a Dom, and a firefighter who can take the heat. Buy a case of your favorite coolant. You’re gonna need it.
The second book in the Night Fall series will be released toward the end of this week. Love vampires? Love sexy threesomes? Like a little suspense with bite? Well, you’ll love Truly, Madly…Deadly!
But before the book releases, I want to be sure you’ve read the Book #1 — Sm{B}itten! So, I made sure you have no excuses left for why you haven’t read Sm{B}itten—I entered it into Kindle Unlimited, so it’s FREE to KU subscribers, and just $0.99 for everyone else!
I’d love to hear from you. Have you read Sm{B}itten? Are you excited for Truly, Madly…Deadly? Are you ready for a fast-paced, paranormal series?
There’s a lovely thing that authors know about called a “backlist.” When we publish a new book, it’s automatically on the backlist of things available for readers to find. And after you’ve been around a while, there could be a lot of books on that list—even ones so old readers don’t remember them. Like a fine piece of furniture, a writer can dust off an older title, give it a fresh coat of polish, and send it out into the world again.
I have a book coming on February 10th that’s up for pre-order now! It’s a historical western set in Two Mule, Texas—and yes, to those of you who pay attention, it’s a prequel book to the Lone Star Lovers series. I love this story. It was one of my first print books ever. It has tons of humor and sweaty sex. This one’s all dusted off, polished and ready for a second chance at life. And isn’t this the prettiest cover ever?
Honey Cafferty lives a happy, if precarious, existence as a traveling saleswoman. She sells her elixirs and potions while searching for the one thing she hasn’t been able to brew from the back of her colorful wagon—a sense of belonging. She arrives in Two Mule, Texas, with her Elixir of Love, a potion that improves a man’s libido but might just get her run out of town.
Sheriff Joe Tanner is protective of his little town. Downright hostile toward anyone who might take advantage of the fine folk under his protection. Any snake-oil salesman who rolls into town better just keep right on rolling.
Honey isn’t what Joe expected, from her vibrant red hair and cat-green eyes to her curvy mouth and hips. And when the men of the town begin to plead exhaustion—and place the blame squarely on her sweet-smelling shoulders—Joe has no choice but to launch an investigation. A very, very deep investigation…
Warning: Contains a sheriff who prides himself on keeping his town running as smooth as a well-greased wagon wheel, and a wandering saleswoman who’s more than a bump (and grind) in his road.
Well, Burnin’ up Memphis is available on all sites now! I can hardly wait to hear from you. I hope you love it. I hope you love my guys. I have an inkling where I’ll go next, but it’s always nice to hear which fella struck your fancy.
The only thing I have left to say is this: If you love the book, please let someone else know it. You can tell a friend or post a review. The only way I can stay a success and writing full-time is through your continued support. I’m very appreciative of everyone you do.
When a roof collapse kills his best friend and his girlfriend clears out his apartment and leaves, firefighter John Cooper knows he shouldn’t sit alone in his empty apartment. But when he accepts an invitation to Club LaForge, his feet get colder with every step he takes inside.
The sights, sounds and smells of the BDSM club make him sweat, and not because he’s turned off. Yet he can’t bring himself to admit—to himself, or to his luscious guide, Moira—that this lifestyle might just be what he needs.
An experienced BDSM trainer, Moira senses that Coop is not only a Dom in the making, but exactly what she’s been looking for. A man to be her lover and her Dom. The only problem is, Coop isn’t looking for anything complicated.
Moira’s willing to start slow and easy, but even once there’s enough trust to bring Coop into her world—and to her Dom—she’s still worried he’ll look for the nearest exit.
Warning: Do you smell smoke? Don’t worry, it’s just a hot and sexy firefighter getting down and dirty. Contains BDSM scenes, ropes, floggers, some spanking, some sharing, and some five-alarm sex.
I seem to have officially become a color coded Post It girl. I’m can’t say it’s something I planned, or would have expected. For years I’ve kept a running list of things needing to be done on a legal pad. And for those years I found myself irritated by the messiness of the list with all the lines through it. Always wanting a clean list, this meant I was rewriting the list over and over, which isn’t as effective as just doing the item. You know?
Then, I made a change in my workspace. I got rid of the large desk in the open area upstairs and instead moved to a small writing desk in a corner in my bedroom. It was an adjustment, but the move has forced me to rethink my organization. I cut down on the clutter, which always makes me happy, and I’ve figured out the most effective way to use the space.
One change to using the space was to move from the never ending list rewrite to sticking Post It Notes on the wall I now face. I’ve found that with the stickies staring me in the face I’m more inclined to get things done because I would rather look at a blank wall than an Post It filled one.
I’ve also found that color coding the Post Its makes things easier. Apparently I like to compartmentalize, because I’ve gone so far to do Green for Day Job, Orange for Personal, Pink/Melon for Band/School and Red for Writing. There’s also a major feeling of accomplishment when I empty things off the wall.
This has me wondering, though, what kind of person are you? Semi-organized? Scattered? Obsessively methodical? Somewhere in between? Do you like lists or do you just have an amazing memory that doesn’t requires lists?
Commenters will be entered into a drawing for an eBook giveaway. In celebration of the recent release of Cyber Illusions (Sensory Ops), the final chapter in the Sensory Ops Series, I am giving away a digital copy of the first five books in the Sensory Ops series.
I published a short story on Amazon the other day. If you like science fiction/futuristic stories set on Mars, check it out. And if you like the story a lot and want to see more in a possible series of Martian tales, let me know…
The transport arrived amid a whirl of dust kicked up from the barren yard beside the house. The gritty air nearly obscured the moon, Phobos, as it made the first of several orbits for the day. The aircraft hovered, framed by the uneven curves of the asteroid, then set down with a thud that shuddered the fiber-board planks of her front porch, vertical engines stalling then shutting off altogether. Slowly, the dust settled.
She’d been sweeping, preparing the cabin for the transport’s arrival. As with every element of the company’s schedule, the ship arrived precisely on time. Although she was prepared, a flutter of anticipation tickled her belly. She set aside the broom, wiped her palms against the sides of her sturdy blue work pants, and descended the stairs, eager to meet the shipment.
Mary’s heart skipped a beat when she realized she hadn’t had a face-to-face conversation with another human being in a very long time. She pasted on a smile. “Welcome.”
His sharp gaze swept her little cabin, the golden fields beyond it, then finally rested on her. “You Mary Bledsoe?”
He likely wondered how someone of her stature had managed to pass the physical tests to qualify for farming. She stiffened her spine to add a few centimeters to her small, wiry frame and met his gaze with her usual calm, chilly stare. “I am.” She bit back a sarcastic, Who else do you think I could be? Every one of the thousand colonists had been handpicked and transported by the company—they had a monopoly on Martian transportation and industry.
His mouth twitched, but he kept his gaze steady. “I have your shipment, and I’ll need your signature on the bill of lading.”
She nodded. “I’ll need to inspect.” She’d received notice of the contents of the shipment via the comm-console situated in the cabin’s main room shortly after claiming her homestead.
Although the fields had been pre-planted and her new home fully furnished, there were still some items, especially the perishables, that needed stocking: replacement blades for the combine sheltered in the barn, pallets of foodstuffs, clothing, and fuel packs…and her mate.
Trying not to appear overeager to see him, she waited as the transport commander’s crew scurried to let down the rear ramp and roll out the pallets. With well-trained efficiency, they stacked them beside the porch. She counted the pallets with their quick-wrapped goods, scanned her gaze over the identifying labels, signed for delivery, then shoved her hands into her pockets to hide the fact they were beginning to shake.
The commander’s mouth firmed into a straight line. “Did you receive training in the use of the B-Mod collar?”
He knew she had. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here, already in possession of a land grant. She gave a curt nod. “Yes. I also signed saying I knew there were no guarantees for my safety or his willingness to work. If we don’t suit, if he proves stubborn, then I’ll return him.”
“Just don’t get too attached, ma’am. You have enough on your hands without coddling one of these rejects.”
The brusque quality of his voice surprised her. Was he truly worried? Should she be more concerned? Her hands drew into fists inside her pants pockets.
But then he extended the chain with the controller for the prisoner’s behavior modification collar, a thin ID tag with a recessed button on one side. She slipped it over her head and followed him to the side of the transport. The guard inside the vehicle opened the door. The prisoner scooted on the seat toward the edge, hands still in manacles, then slid to the ground beside her.
Heart rate rising, she gazed up into a face set in grim lines. Blue eyes, cold as ice, sparked with some deep emotion as he stared back.
He was larger than she had expected. Surprisingly so. Prisoners built like this one were generally shipped to company loading docks or to the dome’s arena. He was dressed as she was in sturdy denim pants and long-sleeved shirt. She studied his broad chest and wide shoulders. He was built like a gladiator; his arms and thighs were deeply muscled. “You’re sure he’s mine?” she asked, turning toward the commander who’d fished a key from his pocket to unlock the prisoner’s handcuffs.
The pilot’s grunt and the flinty glare he gave the prisoner said he too had some reservations. “His collar matches the invoice. Guess they thought you might need the extra muscle.”
Anger flashed at his comment. She’d had enough of men thinking she wasn’t up to the rigors of Martian prairie life. Her hand still gripped the B-Mod chip. She slipped it slowly away, remembering her training. Show no fear. As long as she had the chip, she had control.
Without glancing at the metal torque hugging the base of his neck, because she didn’t want to betray her sudden case of nerves, she lifted her chin and cleared her expression.
One side of his mouth quirked. That flash of movement might have been her imagination because he gave her a stony stare.
Heat crept up her neck, but she ignored the blush threatening to suffuse her face. Turning back to the commander, she offered her hand.
Not a professional form of address, but no one had called her by her first name, alone, for a very long time. For that small gift, she gave him a warm smile. “Thanks for everything. We’ll be fine here.”
A duffel was tossed from the transport by one of the guards. The bag was small. Likely only a couple changes of clothing for the prisoner. She jerked her chin toward it, knowing she was still being observed by the crew. “Bring it,” she said, making her tone curt. She turned, walking toward the cabin, wondering if the lock on her new mate’s door would actually hold the man.
Ever have a character in a book who was larger than life, who you knew would scare the crap out of you if you met him in the real world?
And he’s a Dom. The last man standing in his very close-knit, kinky band of brothers in blue. Readers have been asking for his story since the first of my Delta Heat books came out. It’s been a long wait. There were five other stories leading up to this one. I know you won’t mind the wait. Not once you reach THE END.
The novella drops into online bookstores tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear what you think. 🙂 For now, you can pre-order you copy here: Samhain Publishing
When his four Memphis PD friends needed to let off steam, Mondo helped them all navigate the BDSM world—his world—and find the women of their dreams. Now the vice cop and La Forge Master/Dom is the last single man standing. And he’s feeling a little like the odd man out.
He’s been waiting a long time for the right woman, one strong enough to match his dark passions. A timid grade school teacher definitely doesn’t make the short list.
Sunny Boudreau was content with her rather prosaic life until a trio of lovers moves in next door. But as she gets to know them and all their friends, she’s drawn to the edge of their ménage/BDSM play. She’s tempted to take the plunge—except Mondo warns her off.
Her first taste of the club only whets her appetite and ignites her desire to prove she’s exactly the woman Mondo’s been hungering for.
Warning: BDSM play at your favorite kinky club, group play at home, some fun BDSM, girl-on-girl kissing, an orgy…the usual for our boys in blue.
Sunny refused to think about what she was doing, concentrating instead on moving one foot in front of the other, despite her trepidation and embarrassment. Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this, walking nude into a roomful of strangers. The other part clung to the sight of the man walking in front of her. Anger at how quickly he’d dismissed her commitment to this path without really knowing her fueled her forward movement.
He didn’t know how lonely she was, how out of step she was with her acquaintances at work. They had their boyfriends, had their plain vanilla sex, their ordinary lives, when she dreamed of something more. Something rare and exciting. Not until she’d met Pansy had she understood her need to explore her true nature.
Since the night she’d masturbated, knowing full well Mondo watched, she’d devoured every book she could find on BDSM and fetishes, and much of what she’d read left her feeling as though she’d only been half alive before. And now she stood on a precipice, ready to take the dive into deeper, dark waters.
And Mondo was the key. The teacher she needed. Already he was more attractive, more mysterious and dangerous than anyone she’d ever met. As a vice cop, he faced dangers at work she could only imagine. A far cry from her own job, which she loved, but which didn’t fill her need for adventure.
Even now, wearing his collar, her breaths were so shallow she had to consciously force them to deepen or risked fainting. And wouldn’t Mondo love it if she did, proving he’d been right all along? Following Mondo out of his playroom and into the noisy, boisterous salon took an act of courage—courage she hadn’t known she possessed. Just summoning up the nerve to step inside La Forge fully dressed had taken nearly everything she had.
She didn’t like crowds, had hated lining up with the others who hoped they’d be chosen for play and instruction, on display for an entire room of barely dressed people to be eyed like they were trussed-up chickens in a meat market.
Pansy had wanted to take her shopping, to buy something sexy and appropriately subbie, but Sunny had hesitated. Sure, she’d read a lot about the lifestyle, but she wasn’t prepared to act as though she knew more than she did.
Everything she’d read had excited her, but she knew herself well enough to know she had to enter this adventure on her own terms, be completely herself, or she’d balk at the last minute from fear and embarrassment.
The fact that Mondo had managed to get her out of her clothes so quickly and striding toward the noisy room was a testament to how much she wanted him as a teacher. Or perhaps how much she wanted to prove him wrong. Anger continued to fuel her bravado.
Pansy had extolled his skills, his sensitivity, his strength. She’d told Sunny that he could push a sub farther than her pre-conceived limits—and it had to be true, because already she was naked and aroused—something any of the dozens of players turning their way to note their passage would see. Her nipples were tightly beaded, her areolas dimpled. Moisture was pooling between her legs. She hoped the dim lighting would hide the gleam between her thighs.
Shutting the others out before she lost her nerve, she kept her gaze on Mondo’s broad shoulders as he moved with purpose through the center of the room, past chairs and sofas where a dizzying array of sexual acts were occurring.
Her mouth dropped as she spotted Pansy, bent forward with Billy holding her hands to provide her balance, her pregnant belly bared, while Beau clapped his hand on her naked bottom—not harshly enough to rock her body, but her cheeks were pink, her pussy flushed and engorged—for anyone to see.
Sunny’s cheeks burned for her new friend. Taking another step, she bumped into Mondo, who turned his head and gave her a searing glance. “Sorry, Sir,” she mumbled, not able to meet his knowing gaze, because she’d been caught staring at another woman’s pussy.
Sunny swallowed hard, surprised at how much she envied Pansy’s predicament. Meeting Mondo’s hard gaze, she quivered inside. Sensing he’d know if she tried to give him anything less than the truth, she admitted her interest with a whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
Mondo stepped closer, forcing her head up to maintain their locked gazes. A hand slipped between her thighs, fingers gliding in the moisture coating her smooth outer labia. Shock sent a shiver straight up her spine at the intimate touch, and she nearly reached out to push his hand away.
Without any emotion in his eyes, Mondo smiled. “I’ll touch you however I want. No matter who watches.”
The urge to widen her stance, to invite further caresses warred with the chilling awareness that others watched.
Mondo gave her a long look. Everything inside her made her want to lower her gaze, to hide the longing surging up inside her. For him. For what this place offered. How much of that longing was for him specifically or for what he might be able to teach her, she wasn’t sure. But she held his gaze, braving out the tense moment.
She ducked her head, averting her gaze as she’d been instructed. She almost smiled at his irritation but firmed her lips to hide her amusement. The fact she wanted to smile when she was nude and vulnerable surprised her. She’d never done this before. Even with the few lovers she’d had, she was quick to find a robe rather than parade naked.
“I want you to watch with me tonight,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Be my shadow. When I pause, you kneel. When I move, you follow.” He trailed a finger down the side of her face. “If I caress you, you will let me see whether you feel pleasure or discomfort. Hide nothing.”
He pulled his head back and looked down at her, his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “I shouldn’t. You’re bold and shouldn’t be rewarded. You have a lot to learn.”
“You didn’t say you won’t.” The further narrowing of his eyes told her she’d displeased him. Quickly, before he could respond, she slowly knelt in front of him. “You paused, Sir.”
In TASTE ME DEADLY, the heroine has a passion for making chocolate, though she buried it years earlier. There is something sexy about melting chocolate and smoothing it out over a granite countertop, working it into mold, making shavings and drizzles. Its silken smoothness against your skin and the excitement of imagining your lover as the countertop while you work the chocolate over him.
In TASTE ME DEADLY, Liam helps his heroine, Grey, rediscover her passion while encouraging her to make a few new friends. And what better entertainment could there be for four women in a kitchen than chocolate and talking about men?
Of all the recipes I found while researching TASTE ME DEADLY, the one that I’m hoping to one day make are baby tortes. This one that I found on Pinterest looks sweet and romantic and perfect for a romantic dinner with a lover.
Commenters on today’s blog will be entered into a drawing for a digital copy of the first two Sensory Ops books.
After five years in Witness Protection, Greycen Craig’s life of careful routine is upended when she learns her sister is the victim in a hit and run, hospitalized, unconscious, and needing a kidney only Grey can give.
Despite warnings that this “accident” is a ruse to draw her out into the open, Grey risks everything to race back to Miami—where she comes face to face with the one man she aches to trust.
FBI agent Liam Burgess thinks he’s prepared for the moment Grey walks into her sister’s hospital room. But the moment the woman who holds his heart appears, his tongue is almost too tied to remember to ask one burning question—why she disappeared in Las Vegas two years ago.
As Grey struggles with what to tell him—everything or nothing—the danger that drove her underground resurfaces, threatening everyone she loves. And the only safe place to run is the arms of the one man she can’t tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Be sure to sign up for Nikki’s newsletter and then go socialize with her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads and Pinterest.
Playing switch in front of a La Forge BDSM club audience was supposed to be a one-time fling. A favor for a friend. Instead, when Craig Eason realizes he’s caught the attention of an enigmatic, powerful Dom across the crowded room, he senses this could be the man he’s been looking for to test the boundaries of his own sexuality.
Firefighter Aiden Byrne is a very private man with strong S&M longings he keeps in check for everyone else’s safety. His sub, Jennifer Callum, thinks she likes it rough, but he can’t let go the way he’d like to. Until one defiant stare from the handsome cop on the La Forge stage causes Aiden’s most dangerous needs to uncoil from the deepest, darkest part of his soul.
With the blessing—and active involvement—of his sub, a seduction is set in motion that ends in a scene that shakes them all to the core…
Warning: Contains a powerful, burly firefighter who plans to take everything a hot cop thinks he knows about himself and send it up in smoke. Please replace the batteries in all your smoke detectors before reading this book. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/m, spanking, flogging, restraints, and one wild orgy of pleasure.
Archives Select Month October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 March 2014 February 2014 December 2013 October 2013 June 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 February 2012 January 2012 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007