Greenwood Manor–Adult Excerpt

Author: Shannon Leigh
Publisher: Amber Quill Press
Genre: Paranormal Erotica/Ghosts
Laura Flannery needs a vacation from her boring life and a break from nosy neighbor. So when a postcard arrives in the mail announcing the grand opening of a bed and breakfast in New Orleans, she decides to give it a try. Deposited on the doorstep of what appears to be a beautifully restored mansion, Laura finds it odd the cab driver is so eager to drive away; and that’s just the beginning.

From a butler who seems to avoid any physical contact what so ever, to a housekeeper who floats rather than walks, Laura can’t help but start questioning her sanity. Then, when a man she’s never seen before appears before her and claims he’s her dead husband, she has to decide if it’s time to head for the hills or stay and discover what secret past she has with Greenwood Manor and it’s handsome, albeit deceased, owner.


“What are you?” she demanded, stepping a little to the side when the skin on her backside began to smart. “A ghost?”

Barnabas chuckled. “If that’s what you wish to call me. Then yes.”

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Laura rubbed her palms over both eyes. “But I don’t believe in ghosts,” she murmured. “They’re not real.

You can’t be—”

Before she could finish her lame protest, Barnabas had closed the distance between. “I’ll explain it later,” he said, pulling her roughly, almost violently against him. “Right now, I want to use my energy to feel you. To touch you. To love you. It’s been so long, Laura.”

Unable to deny the pleading in his eyes or the need in his voice, Laura subtly nodded her head. It was obvious their joining was inevitable. Why delay the longing in her heart?

His mouth came down over hers in a shockingly possessive kiss. Frightened and elated at the same time, Laura merely clung to his broad shoulders while his lips worked magic over hers. Her mind began the whirl, and she felt as though she were floating on clouds, her feet hovering above the floor.

Breaking away from his mesmerizing kiss, she chanced to look down. Sure enough, Barnabas and she were suspended several feet above the cushy carpet below. With a gentle nudge, he pushed her body slightly away from his.

Feeling as though she would fall, Laura let out a yelp of terror and clutched frantically at his arms.

Barnabas smiled. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe with me. I promise.”

Relaxing a bit, Laura let herself drift freely. The air around her was strange, heavy. And yet, she felt weightless.

While the sensation was certainly bizarre, it was, at the same time, surprisingly exhilarating. When she tried to stop her backward glide, Laura lost her balance and tumbled forward awkwardly. With just a wave of his hand, Barnabas righted her stance.

“It takes some getting used to,” he said softly. “Just relax, let me guide you.”

He slowly twirled his index finger, and her body began to turn in response. Laura giggled. “I feel like I’m on display.”

“Only for me,” he purred. “Only for me.” The husky rumble in his voice made her insides shudder with expectancy. Laura closed her eyes, letting her head fall back slightly. Her long curls brushed against her waistline, tickling her skin. Never had someone’s scrutiny made her feel so alive, so invigorated, so—

“Beautiful. You’ve not changed a bit.”

Laura met his heated stare with a shy smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling warmth stain her cheeks.

Another wave of his hand and she was suddenly moving forward. Her body stopped only inches from his. Her breath caught in her throat when fiery sparks danced in his eyes like the undulating flames of a roaring fire.

His hands shot out to grasp her upper arms in an almost painful hold. Then he pulled her against him, their bodies colliding with a tantalizing smack as his mouth came down once again to possess hers. “I can’t delay any longer,” he breathed heavily against her lips. His hands transversed the planes of her back, then moved lower to her hips and thighs.

Laura sensed there was more to the urgency in his voice than merely carnal need. He’d mentioned the constraint of time twice now, leading her to believe he would soon have to leave. Shoving aside her ambiguity of the circumstances involved, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself more firmly against him.

“I’m ready.”

His fingers curled around the cheeks of her ass in a firm grip. Then he hoisted her upward, bringing her breasts to his eager lips. While his palms caressed her outer thighs, his tongue laved around one rosy bud, making it harden into a taut bead.

A deep moan escaped Laura’s lips when he nipped at her throbbing peak. Eagerly wrapping her legs around his waist, she arched her spine, forcing her breast more fully into his surprisingly warm mouth. Barnabas responded with almost feral hunger.

With their bodies floating weightlessly about the room, his hands were free to explore. Cupping one breast within his palm, he alternated between sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue about it in a

tantalizing swirl, before lavishing an equal amount of attention on the other.

Ever so slowly, he moved downward, gently lifting her buoyant frame higher into the air until she could nearly touch the ceiling. His mouth left a tingling trail along her flesh, from the crevice between her breasts, across the flat plane of her stomach, and finally to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

At the first brush of his tongue against her feminine lips, Laura shuddered. She gasped as electrical sparks of pleasure shot through her apex, radiating to her belly. Her fingers reached for his hair as she spread her legs, encouraging him to taste her core.

Wrapping his hands around her outer thighs, he coaxed her body to lie flat, nearly parallel to the floor several feet below. No longer afraid of falling, Laura relaxed backward, letting her weightless frame float freely.

Carefully slipping one knee and then the other over his shoulders, Barnabas began a pleasure-evoking stimulation of her clit that made her head feel as light as the rest of her.

Laura moaned and writhed against his face as he sucked at her swollen nub, gently drawing it in and out of his mouth. Then he flicked his tongue against it in an up and down motion, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through her insides. When he slipped in a finger and started caressing the sensitive spot just inside her sheath, she began to tremble.

“Barnabas…” she breathed heavily, feeling her feminine juices slip down the crack of her ass as her body tensed.

But Barnabas ignored her. The tip of his finger moved in circles over that tingling spot inside, while he continued to stroke her clit with his tongue. He obviously knew exactly what to do to bring her to culmination.

Laura’s stomach clenched. The muscles in her arms and legs tightened as her whole frame started to vibrate. Energy pulled to her pelvis, preparing for release. She tried to hold off, to prolong the pleasure as long as she could. But her mind whirled and she felt as though she were spinning in

circles. In the next instant, her insides convulsed; there was no stopping


Shannon Leigh
Amber Quill Assistant Review Coordinator
“Giving readers the O in their erOtica.”

*Nana’s Little Black Book–calling all incubi*
*Chasing Booty–the payoff is too good to pass up.*
*Dark Tales–not your average bedtime story.*

Chasing Booty by Shannon Leigh (Adult)

GENRE: Science Fiction / Futuristic Erotica / Action/Adventure / Interracial

PUBLISHER: Amber Quill Press (ebook)


PUBLISHER: AudioMinx (audio book)

PURCHASE: Audio Book

When cops can’t catch the most-wanted criminals, they hire Gaelyn. She comes from a long line of bounty hunters, including her father, uncle, and grandfather. Extensive training in weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, and adverse conditions have seasoned her into a formidable opponent against any contracted hit, whether male, female, alien, or human. She has little fear of the unknown and thrives on adventure.
Only one other hunter matches her status—Reese, a Trøndite from the small planet of Sør-Trøndalag in the Capricornus Sector. And the man has a knack for stealing her contracts. Both cunning and gorgeous, the mix doesn’t seem quite fair. But attractiveness holds little power over money. Reese had beaten Gaelyn out of a half-year’s pay a scarce three months ago, and she will be damned if he outwits her again.
Thinking she’s duped Reese back onto Jupiter, Gaelyn isn’t too happy when she runs into him on Quaoar at the Blue Moon, an authentic hole-in-the-wall bar tucked at the end of a narrow alley in what would be considered the rough part of town; just the place to find her contracted hit. But Reese not only has the information she needs to find her mark, he also has a business proposal that’s too tempting to pass up. And a partnership with Reese just might prove rewarding in a way Gaelyn never expects…
His lips skirted the sensitive flesh of her abdomen, scattering her thoughts. He paused at her navel, first exploring the small depression by laving the edges before dipping inside to intimately kiss her belly button. He lingered there a moment, tantalizing her skin with his warm breath and skilled tongue before moving downward.
Gaelyn’s pussy clenched as though his tongue had filled her center rather than her navel. Her head dropped back against the chaise and she sighed with enjoyment. It seemed strange that such a small area of her body provoked such a powerful response.
As he kissed along the waistband of her leather pants, his fingers deftly moved to unbutton them. Before she knew it, he’d slid them down her hips and thighs.
Yanking off her knee-high boots, he finished removing her pants, carelessly tossing them on to the floor with the rest of her discarded clothes.
Left clad only in a pair of lacy panties that hugged her hips, Gaelyn felt the heat of embarrassment stain her cheeks. She’d never given much thought as to whether men found her attractive or not—finding bedmates had always come easy. But for some odd reason, she yearned to know he found her pleasing to the eye.
Reese stood over her, worshipping her with his gaze. She couldn’t mistake his approval; wild, almost feral desire burned in his coal black depths. Gaelyn watched as he undressed, the intensity of his stare never faltering.
His shirt came off first, revealing a powerful chest blanketed with glossy curls of fine black fur. Her hands itched to stroke that glorious nest, feel those silken wisps beneath her palms. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the thought of that shiny mat pressing against her breasts as he lay on top of her.
The hair covered his abdomen as well, thickening in the middle to form a dark line that trailed downward and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Even without seeing it, she guessed that sexy path led to a thick patch surrounding his cock. It wouldn’t be long before she found out.
After pulling off his boots, Reese unfastened his jeans. Wasting little time, he yanked them off, dropping them unheeded to the floor. When he reached for the waistband of his black boxer briefs, she stopped him.
“Wait, let me.”
Sitting up on the edge of he chaise, Gaelyn spread her legs a bit and motioned for him to stand in front of her. Reese quickly obliged, positioning his tall frame between her parted knees. He towered over her, the top of her head scarcely reaching his groin, and for the first time in a long while, despite her own generous height, she felt small.
Taking a deep breath to quell her nervous anticipation, she smoothed her palms against his lower belly. She stroked up and down his outer thighs, marveling as his muscles tightened beneath her touch. Gripping his square hips, she squeezed them with her fingertips, loving the feel of restrained power within her hands.
His cock swelled even more, boldly pressing against the stretchy material of his briefs until the fabric grew taut, tenting beneath the pressure. Biting her lower lip, Gaelyn molded her palm around the restrained form. Her other hand cupped his sac.
Reese let out a low, guttural moan. Placing his hand over hers, he urged her to squeeze his hard rod, moaning again when she obliged. Unable to restrain her curiosity, Gaelyn reached for his waistband.
As she slipped his briefs downward, taking care not to get hung on his erection, her excitement shifted to awe, then apprehension. “Good God, Reese. I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can,” he interjected, slipping his briefs the rest of the way down himself. After kicking them aside, he
grabbed her hands and encouraged her touch him again, this time without the restraint of clothes.
She tentatively wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft, feeling intimidated by its huge size. He had to be a good three
inches around. Surely he wouldn’t fit, not without tearing her in two.
Despite her concern, wetness seeped through the crotch of her panties at the thought of his massive cock filling her channel. I’ll be sore in the morning, she thought with an impish giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, wrapping his fingers around hers. He coaxed her hand to move up and down,
sliding the plaint outer skin of his shaft against the rock hard form beneath.
Gaelyn glanced up at him. “Nothing. Just imaging the limp I’ll have tomorrow.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Guess I’ll be watchin’ your ass in the ice caves after all. Bein’ it’ll be my fault you’re
She nodded agreement, realizing his hand no longer guided hers. Rather, she’d taken on a steady rhythm by herself, pumping his cock with her own free will. Feeling a little braver, she craned her neck and leaned forward, her gaze locked with his as she flicked her tongue against the bottom of his smooth, hairless balls.
Reese gasped, his body shuddering in response. He tangled his fingers in her thick hair and gently pressed the back of her head, urging her to do that again. But Gaelyn needed no encouragement, she felt empowered by her ability to make such a large man tremble beneath her palms.
Craning once again, she sucked at his bulbous sacs, drawing them in and out of her eager mouth. She focused on laving the pendulous forms from back to front, lapping at them with her tongue. Tugging at the hot flesh encasing his boys with her teeth, she teased him until the skin drew up tight.
“Gael…” he said with a tortured groan. “I want to feel your mouth around me.”
Gaelyn briefly contemplated the feat before her. She doubted her ability to take him in fully. Surely her mouth wouldn’t stretch that wide. She glanced up at him again, taking note how his head had dropped back in anticipation. His whole frame seemed stiff and on edge, as though he’d explode at any moment. Unable to deny him, she moved to perch on her knees, affording herself a better reach of his goods.


Shannon Leigh
“Giving readers the
O in their erOtica.”

Shannon Leigh on giving Character to her Characters

Giving character to my characters…

Sounds simple enough, right? But have you ever read a book that by the end, the only thing you really remember about the main characters is their names? Heck, sometimes I can’t even remember that!

So what is it about some stories that really draw you in? Plot? Sure. A good plot will get your attention. But if the characters lack any individuality or detail, can the plot still give the book what it needs to make it stick with you a while after you’ve reached THE END? Or does it just end up in an ever-growing “I’ve already read that and won’t read it again” pile?

On the flip side of things, great character development with a terrible plot will likely turn you off as well. But that’s a post for another time. Today I want to focus on some of the basics of how I build characters that my readers can love.

I’m going to focus on the physical aspects of my character. Easy enough. So let’s say I’m writing a romance novel and my character descriptions go as follows:

He was tall, handsome, and had an air about him that drew women like moths to a flame.  

She was shapely and beautiful; he wanted her from the start.

I suppose that’s enough to give you a fair amount of detail.  At this point, you’re likely picturing what those descriptions mean in your mind. Every reader will picture something different. Are these characters appealing? Sure, you’re imagining them how you want. Are they interesting? Not really. They sound like every other character in every other romance book you’ve picked up. So what would make them stand out? What would make you as a reader envision exactly how the character looks in my, the author’s, eyes?

I start with the basics:

Complexion: What does their skin look like? Is it smooth? Does the man have a beard? Stubble? Are her cheeks rosy? Sallow? Like porcelain?

What about color? Does she have olive colored skin? Pale? Ivory? Is he tanned? Translucent? (yes, I’ve seen translucent used for vampires).

How about flaws? Come on folks, not everybody is perfect. In fact, after reading so many books about “perfect” characters, they kinda get boring after a while. Characters need flaws, whether physical or emotional, to give them depth and make them unique. So how about a scar? Or maybe rough skin? Acne scars (don’t forget, you have to describe your bad guys/girls as well). Birthmark?

Eyes: Color is usually a given. Most authors name eye color at some point in the story. As a personal opinion, earlier is better than later. The longer I delay giving you a detailed description, the more you’re going to envision the characters how you want. If halfway through the book you’ve decided the man has shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes (because the cover depicts him as such, and we all know covers aren’t always accurate to a tee), then I announce he has short, dark blonde hair and green eyes, you’re likely going to feel like you’ve just had the rug pulled out from under you. The hero is going to feel like a stranger. I don’t know about you, but I hate when that happens!

So let’s discuss eyes. Aside from color, what else? What about shape? Are they almond? Cat-like? Thin? Rounded? Are they rimmed with dark lashes? Hooded? Are there bags under their eyes? Sometimes the first glimpse at the character isn’t always when he/she is at their best.

Nose: What kind of nose does the hero/heroine have? Thin? Narrow? Flared? Slightly crooked? Strong? Grecian? Wide? I might even get more detailed and describe the bridge separately from the nostrils, as long as it’s pertinent. Sometimes too much description can be just as annoying as not enough. I seriously doubt you want to read three paragraphs that describe nothing but the characters schnoze; a sentence or two should suffice. 

Lips: Ahhh… One of our favorite parts of the face. But what kind of lips do my characters have? Generous? Full? Thin upper lip and full bottom? Pouty? Heart-shaped. Wide? Small? Don’t forget lips have color as well. Some are beige; some are pink, red, brown, gray, purple (depending upon the scene). You wouldn’t have a character who’s just fallen into an icy river emerge with red lips and rosy cheek. That would make no sense what so ever. They’re likely going to have a gray or ashen skin color, and purple lips.

Hair: Again, most authors as some point define their characters’ hair color. But what about the texture? Is it coarse, silky soft? Thin? Thick? Curly? Straight? Long? Short? Does it hang in their eyes? Curl around their temples? I recently read a series of books where the author described her characters fairly enough. But one character really stood out to me. Why? Because his hair was always in his eyes, like he was hiding something. She still hasn’t defined what and I’m dying to know. Hopefully she’s working on book 6 and my curiosity will be satisfied. Anyway, my point being, sometimes even just their hair can be a defining characteristic that gives them character.

Body Type: *rubbing hands together* The fun stuff. Alright, I gotta admit, I won’t be as turned on by a hero with a beer belly and scrawny legs. Yes, I want the Adonis. But, that’s not to say he has to be perfect or that if he is, you can skimp on his description. What is it about him that makes him perfect? Does he have mile-wide shoulders? An expanse of chest sprinkled with curling wisps of dark hair (see, hair applied here too!). Do his pecs dance as he flexes those mounds of man flesh? Don’t forget to make him proportioned.  He can’t be ripped with bulging muscles on top, then have nice legs and a trim waist below. Huh? I’m envisioning Johnny Bravo here (cartoon character for anyone who doesn’t know. Look on youtube, they have a bunch of his cartoons. They’re hilarious!). If he’s lean, make him lean all over. Maybe he’s not a hunk of stud-muscle with bulges threatening to bust through is clothes. Maybe he’s just fit and trim. That’s okay, just describe him in a manner that makes him sound fit and trim.

Body Parts: I shudder to dive in to this one. Depending on where your mind is, this has many options. I’ll start with the heroine. Let’s face it, not all of us are gifted with big bazongas.  Some of us have bee stings, other have watermelons. Just make it fit. Don’t describe your heroine as 5-foot-nothing, 100 pounds, and packing cantaloupes. She’s gonna need a wheelbarrow as well. That or major back surgery. Yes, some little women are Baywatch babe material, but make it believable. 

What about those heroes? Are they all massively endowed? Please. Let’s be realistic. If every guy I write about has the potential to render his female counterpart unable to walk, then you’re gonna get bored. As with breasts, there’s a difference between being nicely sized and “wanting to run the other direction” sized. I suppose the exception would be if that was my male character’s main dilemma.  Maybe he needs to find him an Amazon woman who can handle him. Okay, getting off tract here!  

For any character, male or female, hero/heroine, bad guy/girl, I start at the top and work my way down, hitting on the things that I want the reader to zero in on, the things that make the character who they are, the things that give him/her character.

Before I end here, let’s revisit those two descriptions I gave earlier:

He was tall, handsome, and had an air about him that drew women like moths to a flame.  

She was shapely and beautiful; he wanted her from the start.

Taking my own suggestions to heart, I think I can do a little better:
Shannon’s perusing gaze zeroed in on the man who entered the bar. Were he any taller, he’d have had to duck to cross the threshold.  His black hair swept back from his face in a crest and hung to his broad shoulders in large, silken waves, its color so pure it looked almost blue in the twinkling disco lights. His heavy brow and hooded eyes gave her a sense of unease, their intensity almost predatory as he scanned the room.

When he suddenly looked over at her and their eyes met, she felt an overwhelming urge to run across the floor and throw herself at his feet. He had a virile air about him that undoubtedly drew women like moths to a flame. Having already experienced the unpleasant feeling of being burned by one handsome man, Shannon quickly looked away. She had no desire to be hurt again.
After settling his large frame in a vacant chair, Keith scanned the other tables, looking for a donor. Several days had passed since he’d fed; he had to find one tonight. His stomach growled in agreement.  

His perusal landed on a slim blonde at the bar. Her long, golden locks hung down her slender back in ringlet curls, almost childlike in appearance. His investigation lingered on the exposed flesh above the low waistband of her jeans. Its smooth, ivory texture looked creamy and flawless, like freshly poured buttermilk. He wondered if it felt as soft as it appeared.

As though feeling his scrutiny, she turned and they locked gazes. His breath hitched in his chest. Her cat-like, green eyes sparkled with attraction as she appraised him in return. Her attention dropped to the drink in his hand, then lowered to his groin. His cock hardened in response. He caught the hint of a faint blush on her delicate cheeks before she looked away. He wanted her; she was perfect.

Ta da! Much better. Hey, I might just keep that and use it in a book! If anyone has any input/suggestions, I’d love to hear them.

Shannon Leigh
“Giving readers the O in their erOtica”

*Note: pics borrowed from Photobucket.


EROTIKOS by Shannon Leigh (first kiss)

GENRE: Dark Fantasy / Vampire / Shapeshifter / Time Travel / Action / Adventure / Interracial / Multicultural

PUBLISHER: Amber Quill Press (ebook)


PUBLISHER: AudioMinx (audiobook)

PURCHASE: audiobook

It’s been a long time since Renee and her two friends have gotten together for a girl’s night in.  What could possibly be more fun than drinking margaritas, gossiping about their recent bed-partners, and playing drunken rounds of Twister until they all pass out?  But when Mina shows up toting a bottle of José Cuervo Gold in one arm, and a strange game named Erotikos in the other, the girls’ evening is about to get a lot more interesting. 

Even before they remove the contents, Renee senses something amiss.  This is no ordinary game.  Erotikos promises pleasures galore and adventures filled with sexual delight.  But how can a cardboard pastime with its small stack of cards, two oddly marked die, and eight pewter men accomplish all this? 

After reading the instructions, the girls select their character pieces—an Indian, a selkie, and a vampire.  Three men of varying backgrounds, but all sexy as sin and tantillizing to the eye.  With a roll of the dice, the game begins, and the three women soon find themselves pulled into a place where their wildest fantasies come to life…

“Hotah Tatanka Winyan,” he said. He stepped toward her, repeating the phrase. “Hotah Tatanka Winyan.”

Renee started to hyperventilate. “I don’t understand,” she stuttered. Her whole body trembled with fear as she took in the bloody wounds dotting his chest and sides.

“Hotah Tatanka Winyan,” he insisted. “White Buffalo Woman.”

He stepped forward again and Renee let out a petrified shriek. Realizing her fear, the man halted his advance. “Don’t be afraid,” he assured. “I won’t hurt you.”

Renee’s pulse roared in her ears. “Where…why…am I…here?” she managed through pants.

The man appeared perplexed. “Have I not performed the Sun Dance correctly?”

He stared at her long and hard, as though expecting an answer. Renee shook her head. “I…I don’t know what—”

“I’ve pierced my chest with bones and fettered them to the sun-pole.” He indicated the two wounds, one on either side of his pectorals. “They were ripped from my flesh as I danced. I knew you would come.”

Removing a crown made from what looked to be some sort of herb, he tossed it into the fire. The flames bounced and danced as they greedily consumed their new offering. Surrendering to the ravenous blaze, the leafy green circlet sizzled and hissed, quickly turning brown and curling in on itself until it filtered into the bed of embers below.

The aroma of sage drifted to Renee’s nose as thin white smoke filled the inside of the teepee. Her gaze fastened on similar bands of herbs encircling the man’s thick wrists and ankles. Aside from the buckskin loincloth and two red dots of paint on his cheeks, he wore nothing else.

Renee silently watched, frozen with confusion and fear, as he walked toward her. When he reached the fallen pipe, he stooped to retrieve it. “Did you bring this?”

As he stood, his eyes met hers and Renee saw something akin to amusement shimmer in his near black gaze. Perhaps it was a play of firelight, but she could have sworn a grin touched his firm lips. She suddenly felt as though she were the butt of some sick joke.

The smoke-filled air caused her eyes to water and burn. Renee wiped them with the back of her hand. Blinking against the irritation, she refused to take her sight off of him. “Why am I here?” she demanded, her tone unbroken and a little firmer than before. “Eyanosa.”

He smiled then, as though realizing the charade was up. Tossing the pipe aside, he placed his large hands on his hips and regarded her with a boyish grin. “That is my name. Do you know what it means?”

Renee hesitantly nodded, not sure she wanted to know. His tongue slid along his full bottom lip. “It means big both ways.”

A staggering thrill shot through her apex, causing her to gasp.

Eyanosa’s grin widened, exposing teeth that were perfectly straight and startlingly white against his tanned face. “I believe you have a task to complete.”

When he started toward her, Renee held her hands out and sidestepped to the right. “Now wait a minute here. This is just a game. None of this is—”

“Real?” He blocked her retreat with a hand on the post next to her right cheek. “Touch me, Renee. Then tell me if I’m real.”

Renee’s mouth dropped to her chin. “How did you know my—”

His palm cupped her chin, nudging her mouth upward a bit. “I knew you the moment you selected my playing piece, as did the others know theirs.”

Before she could thwart his attempt, Eyanosa’s lips closed over hers in a powerful kiss. His mouth moved with such possession it left her knees weak and lungs devoid of air. By the time he released her, she felt as though she were floating.


Shannon Leigh
“Giving readers the O in their erOtica.”