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RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC. :: * * * PAPERBACK :: SECRETS VOLUME #4 Desiree Lindsey, Emma Holly, Jeanie Cesarini, Susan Paul & Betsy Morgan (Paperback)
By reading this, you are stating that you are 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site. SECRETS VOLUME 4 Trade PaperbackCopyright © EMMA HOLLY, DESIREE` LINDSEY, JEANIE CESARINI, IVY LANDON 1998 All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC. Listen to what reviewers have to say: “Provocative…seductive…a must read!” —Romantic Times Magazine “These are the kind of stories that romance readers that ‘want a little more’ have been looking for all their lives…” —Affaire de Coeur Magazine “Secrets, Volume 4 has something to satisfy every erotic fantasy…simply sexational!” —Virginia Henley, New York Times Best Selling Author THE LOVE SLAVE BY EMMA HOLLY A woman’s ultimate fantasy. For one year, Princess Lily will be attended to by three delicious men of her choice. While she delights in playing with the first two, it’s the reluctant Grae, with his powerful chest, black eyes and hair, that stirs her desires. REVIEWS Listen to what reviewers
had to say about The Love Slave:
—Thea Devine, Best Selling Author “(Emma) has created a story of sex, romance and intrigue that goes beyond the norm. The Love Slave is set in a mythical time and place with a philosophy that almost makes you wish you lived in those times.” —Lani Roberts, Affair de Coeur review TO MY READER To me, good erotica is like a glass of wine with dinner, slightly decadent, darkly exciting and — who knows — if it gets my pulse pounding it might lower my cholesterol! A good romance, however, is dinner. I’ve gotta have it, no ifs, ands or buts. When I saw my first Secrets collection, my writer’s imagination was sparked. Romance and erotica entwined in a single story? What a yummy idea. I knew I had to try my hand at it. I hope you enjoy my attempt in The Love Slave, and I hope you come back for more! EXCERPT FROM THE LOVE SLAVE One slave remained to choose. Lily found him in the last cage. Even supposing her last two choices failed to impress her mother, this one surely would. He stood apart, his arms crossed over a powerful chest. He was taller than the others and broader, not a youth verging on manhood but a man in truth. A smokey cross of hair marked his torso. He had the warm, bronzed skin of Ka’arkastan and the slanted eyes of Yskut. A half-breed. Brute strength paired with age-old sophistication. She shivered, half in fear and half in interest. Did she truly dare choose this slave? His eyes, as black as his shaggy hair, narrowed when the scryer beckoned him forward. Such a terrible stare, so full of anger. I couldn’t, she thought. But then something strange happened. His dark eyes bored into hers, and a hot stab of feeling pierced her heart. You, said a voice in her mind, all joy and trembling. It’s you. His glare intensified. She didn’t care. She felt as if she had stumbled across a friend she’d been missing for years and had never hoped to see again. It was almost like one of Nurse’s stories where the lover comes back from the dead. Nonsense, she thought. This glowering fellow was no object of romance. Her nerves must have unbalanced her mind.. AN ACT OF LOVE BY JEANIE CESARINI Shelby Moran’s past haunts her and has left her terrified of sex. International film star Jason Gage is hired to gently coach the young starlet in the ways of love. He wants more than an act — he wants Shelby to feel true passion in his arms. REVIEWS While this story stands alone on its own merit, it’s a sequel to The Spy Who Loved Me in Volume 3. As expected, the reviewers loved it “The tender sensualness of Ms Cesarini’s writing takes you intimately into the erotic world of Shelby and Jason. She has a talent…to relive the wonderful sensations that her words evoke. As far as eroticism, this is one of the best!” —Affaire de Coeur review “In An Act of Love, Jeanie Cesarini brings back a character from an earlier version of Secrets, Shelby Moran. Shelly emerged from her experience with the producer of snuff films with her desire to be an actress intact — but her desire for sex eradicated. When it begins to interfere with her career, resolution is called for in the form of child star Jason Gage and some sex therapy.” —WCRG on AOL Reviewer Board TO MY READER It wasn’t until I read Secrets Volume 3 in print that I thought of continuing the story that began in A Spy Who Loved Me. Paige and Christopher had triumphed over evil and found their happily ever after. Lewis Goddard would meet justice. I turned the last page with a satisfied sigh — until Shelby piped up and said, “You’re going to leave me a fifteen year old on the lam forever? No way! I want a happily ever after, too!” Shelby was right. After all she’d been through, it wasn’t fair to leave her a fictional loose end. She deserved a chance to overcome her past and find the man of her dreams. Guided by her hopes and fears, I honored her request, and now, dearest reader, just turn the page to find out how… EXCERPT FROM AN ACT OF LOVE Shelby crossed the foyer and cast a quick glance at the grandfather clock. Eight on the dot. The acting coach Wes had hired was right on time. Lucky her. Stopping just short of the door, she stood with her hand poised over the knob and calmed the flutters in her stomach. The moment of truth had arrived in the form of a stranger, and she was woefully unprepared. No matter how hard she tried to gear herself up, the idea of tackling this problem still made her queasy. Maybe she should just give up acting? But she couldn’t just give up life. With a little luck, if she could learn how to perform a sex scene, she just might be able to perform one in real life, too. Taking a deep breath, Shelby cleared her thoughts and placed herself in the mindset of cordial hostess. Open the door. Greet the guest. She could do this. The doorbell chimed again. Rolling her shoulders to dispel the last of her tension, she settled a smile on her face and turned the knob. “Hello.” Shelby peered out at the powerhouse of a man who stood on her doorstep, faded jeans slung low on trim hips and expensive athletic shoes bracing long legs firmly apart. Her heart dropped to her feet. Jason Gage? No way. The lengthening twilight cast him in silver and shadow, and she quickly took in his casual but masculine stance, his well-toned body. He radiated intensity, the robust energy of a man in his prime, a self-possession nobody half his age ever quite managed to pull off. Experience. That’s what it was. This was a man who had lived. She could see it in the chiseled planes of his face — a handsome face, an interestingly rough and experienced face. A face she had studied in stark clarity on film. A face she had seen grainy and shadowed on tabloids in the supermarket. Jason Gage. In the flesh. “Miss Moran?” She had heard his voice a thousand times. Deep and strong, like a velvet murmur, his voice conjured up images of dark bedrooms and slick bodies. Leaning back against the balustrade, he looked terribly roguish, just as he had when he had played Frankie Worth in The Last Rebel. He folded his arms across his chest and scowled before Shelby realized she had missed her cue. Jason Gage apparently was not amused by the way she kept gawking at him. “Are you going to invite me in?” Heat singed her cheeks with the force of Pepe’s Beyond The Border Salsa. “Of course. Please.” Striding past her in a burst of masculine grace that trampled what was left of her composure, Shelby suddenly found herself staring at his impossibly wide shoulders. The torchiere lamps illuminated his hair, thick wavy hair that was neither brown nor auburn, but some wonderful russet color in between. Swinging back around, he sized her up with brilliant black eyes. “Are you coming?” Shelby nodded. There was no recovering from this one. She’d flopped. Big time. “I’m so sorry. It’s just — well, I wasn’t expecting you.” “Obviously.” His full mouth tightened in a frown. Get a grip, Shelby. Forcing herself into motion, she pulled the door closed and sailed past him, taking the opportunity to steady her nerves. Leading him into the living room, she moved as far away as politely possible. “May I take your —” She glanced around for whatever he had brought with him. Coat? Briefcase? Garment bag? Keys. “May I take your keys?” “No.” He hooked them on to his belt loop. “Are you ready to work, Miss Moran?” “I was. Until I saw you.” She brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, then forced her arms to her sides. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. He seemed almost relieved, and she would have bet her bottom dollar that he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. “How on earth did Wes talk you into this?” she asked bluntly. “Blackmail.” The reply was just as succinct. ENSLAVED BY DESIREE` LINDSEY Lady Crystal Halverton is in turmoil. Lord Nicholas Summer’s air of danger, dark passions, and irresistible charm have brought her long-hidden desires to the surface. Will he be able to give her the one thing she desires before it’s too late? REVIEWS Listen to what authors had to say about Enslaved "A well-written tale of forbidden lust and love that will keep you turning the pages. Desirée Lindsey is as hot as it gets!” —Kat Martin, Best Selling Author “Fabulously sensual and sweetly erotic, this story will light the fires of your imagination!” —Kathleen Harrington, Best Selling Author “In Enslaved, Desirée Lindsey creates a tender, erotic fantasy certain to satisfy fans of fresh, provocative romance.” —Teresa Medeiros, Best Selling Author TO MY READER Everyone loves a good angst-filled love story and adore even more a tender, provocative hero. My story is dedicated to vulnerable alpha heros — to sensate adventure with Nicholas and Crystal, their undying love, fierce passion and all things as brilliant as his gift to her. May your hearts be Enslaved. I love hearing from my readers!!! EXCERPT FROM ENSLAVED “I’ll do anything to keep my marriage from falling apart, Nick, anything.” Then because she’d held it bottled up all week, the misery and sorrow gave way to hot tears. One by one they trickled down her cheeks. Nick came out of his chair and closed the short distance between them. He drew her tight in genuine concern. “Don’t cry, darling.” He held her closer, murmuring soft praises against her hair that made her throat burn with self-pity. In her weakened state, Crystal gladly accepted his charity. She leaned on his strength, reveled in his warmth, when she had for many weeks been bereft of warmth, of hope. She let Nick be her rock, let him comfort her. She was too weary to worry about convention, about ruining his fine linen shirt with tears. Grateful for what scraps of attention he gave her, she pressed her lips to his chest. In Nick’s embrace, she could forget the world, her troubles — the affection they shared for one another brought her no shame. She drew a ragged breath, felt his hand soothing the tightness from her neck. His fingers were strong, caressing. After going so long without a simple touch, being held by him felt close to heaven. Just like old times. At first she had worried about feeling nervous — but now it was as if all the years since their last kiss had been washed away. He smelled of rain-soaked forests and leather. Under her cheek, his chest was solid. He was the same way she remembered him at seventeen, yet different in remarkable ways. Muscles honed by action rippled beneath his shirt. He towered above her. Tall, powerful, infallible. She sniffled against him, felt his arms tighten, his compassion reach out to her. “I don’t know if I could bear your rejection, too,” she whispered, clinging to him in a manner she knew was desperate. “Shh, darling, I’d never do that to you.” “You don’t know yet why I asked you here.” She knew him. He’d probably never speak to her again, never hold her like he held her now as though he cherished her. Like Freddy used to cherish her. But then she’d already spent the night crying over Freddy. Worrying about the future. Its complications. Now was not the time to have qualms about her promise. “Tell me what I can do for you,” Nicholas prompted reverently, “and I’ll do it.” So trusting, so irresistible, and so gallant. “I want you,” she murmured softly, “to give me a child.” THE BODYGUARD BY SUSAN PAUL AND BETSY MORGAN Kaki York is a bodyguard, but watching the wild, erotic romps of her client’s sexual conquests on the security cameras is getting to her — and her partner, the ruggedly handsome James Kulick. Can she resist his insistent desire to have her? REVIEWS This spicy tale was well received, as you can see “…sensual, titillating and makes you never want to put the book down until the end. …This story is fast-paced and definitely erotic.” —Lani Roberts “Grab a fan or a ready man. You’ll need one or the other while reading this hot, hot, hot story from the masters of the erotic. Wow!” —Martha Hix, a multi-published romance author
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