Saturday, January 29, 2011


Just signed my first contract with this house.... and here's the story - my first M/F/M ménage.... *deep breaths*

Erotic ménage/voyeurism
Publisher: New Dawning International Bookfair

What begins as an idyllic cruise for four friends quickly becomes a nightmare… the pleasant afternoon has had its tense moments as personalities clash. Iris is the newest member of the quartet, married to Dale Montgomery for a short time, she is reserved and elegant–a direct contrast to the earthy sexuality and eroticism of Giselle Jordan–the woman who has been Dale's closest friend for many years. When their boat is caught in the crush of a tidal wave near sunset, the four are swept into the ocean. Hours after the capsize, Giselle awakens on a stretch of beach, a short distance away is Iris, bleeding and terrified. When Iris dies, Giselle is left stranded on an island with the two men she loves. How long will it be before passion take them into the dangerous realm that is the uncharted territory of the heart?


Giselle floundered, no longer even remotely doubtful that she was dying. The sound of the waves pounded in her ears and she was aching and broken in every molecule of her being. As she lay face down in darkness and misery, her senses slowly started to wake and she realized she wasn’t dead after all. The sand under her cheek was cold and wet, and the water she heard was the rumbling thunder of surf heard at ground level.

She concentrated, then dared to turn her head. It was almost dark, and a long stretch of beach stretched before her. Something bumped insistently at her side and she reached out, pulling back with a yelp when she encountered a warm body. Forcing herself into motion, she sat up and looked at who was next to her, praying it would be Blake, then trying not to be angry when it wasn’t her husband, but Iris Montgomery.

She reached out a shaking hand and touched Iris’s shoulder, giving her a gentle nudge.


There was no motion or sound from the other woman and Giselle tasted fresh panic in her throat while she shook Iris. Pushing into a sitting position, she strained to see the prone figure next to her. As her eyes adjusted and the moon began to glow, casting chill silver rays over them, she spotted the bleeding gash along Iris’s side. The water was inching inward, too, covering them a little more with each lapping wave.

Biting back a scream, Giselle rose to her feet, bent, and started dragging Iris up onto the dry sand of the beach. Once there, she plopped to the fine, warm sand and leaned forward, head on her drawn up knees. As she tried to calm her terror and push it into the back of her mind, she prayed that Blake and Dale were still alive and close by.

A low, agonized moan made her shudder against a raw cold that was purely internal in origin, and she bent to touch Iris’s shoulder as the other woman fought to focus on her.

“What… what happened?”

There was a world of pain in the shaken words, and Giselle knew she was seeing the first signs of trauma and shock—what she could do about it wasn’t worth considering.

“We were hit by a wave,” she said, stroking Iris’s hair. “I don’t know where we are, Iris.”


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