A love lost, then found. Can Knight rescue his love or will Daye prevail? Jeremy Knight lives with, and is in love with, Sam, a man who hides his submissive nature until, one fine evening, he asks Jeremy to dominate him. Jeremy is shocked, but does go along with his lover's request. It goes well - perhaps too well - overwhelming Jeremy. He leaves, gets wildly drunk and decides he can't abide the behaviour. Returning home, he tells Sam, who pushes his sub side down, for a while. He finally can't take it and ...
A love lost, then found. Can Knight rescue his love or will Daye prevail? Jeremy Knight lives with, and is in love with, Sam, a man who hides his submissive nature until, one fine evening, he asks Jeremy to dominate him. Jeremy is shocked, but does go along with his lover's request. It goes well - perhaps too well - overwhelming Jeremy. He leaves, gets wildly drunk and decides he can't abide the behaviour. Returning home, he tells Sam, who pushes his sub side down, for a while. He finally can't take it and leaves. Devastated, Jeremy does some soul searching and discovers that perhaps Sam's desires weren't all that horrible. His own dominant side shows itself and he does as much research as he can to find himself. Then he must find Sam. A cop friend of Jeremy's sees Sam in the company of 'someone of interest' to the police - Nathanial Daye, a very wealthy man who owns and sells people. The only trouble is they've never been able to prove it. When Jeremy decides to get into the picture, he winds up as the newest 'boy' in Nathanial's house. He finds Sam, who has fallen for another slave named Peter. Can Jeremy rekindle the love Sam had for him? How will Peter fit into the picture? Can Jeremy find a way to rescue them all? Or will Daye win?
Jude's imagination frequently leads her astray and she eagerly follows while trying to keep out of trouble, or at least, not get caught. For those of you who know her, you'll know that's not always easy. A picture, a smell, an unexpected glimpse of flesh, or a load of soil in the back of a pick-up, are all fodder for her writing. Her male characters run the gamut from the dominant male ruling his women with an iron fist, to a simpering purple-clad boy-toy whose only desire is to please. As diverse and as richly depicted, her women find themselves in a myriad of exotic and erotic situations. Catch up with Jude at her blog and MySpace.
Jeremy Knight stood outside of his lover’s door, his hands clenched at his sides, thinking about knocking, but not quite sure he was ready. Dark wood, marred at the bottom by water damage, was discoloured around the brass doorknob by what looked like years of handling. Beside a tall oak, two guards stood talking. On the other side of the drive, Jeremy knew there were others. He looked back at the door. “Could use some TLC,” he mumbled and shifted from one foot to the other. The thong pulled tight up the crack of his ass. He squirmed, trying to readjust the strap without actually using his hands. It didn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t. He looked at the door again and took a deep breath. It was now or never. Standing there any longer wasn’t going to help his indecisiveness. He raised his hand and knocked. Stepping back, he waited and his heart raced. He crossed his hands in front of himself, gripping one wrist. Head lowered, he eased his feet apart, shoulder width. His decision was making itself known. Jeremy watched the rise and fall of his chest, and worked on his patience. His hands grew slippery with sweat. His jeans felt too tight, his tank even tighter. The boots weighed a ton when he moved his feet. He clenched his fist then straightened his fingers, stretching them, trying to distract himself. Jumbled thoughts and desires plagued him. His cock pulsed, and he wanted to sooth the dull ache he’d been trying to ignore for the last hour. Footsteps approached from inside. Should he bolt, flee for his freedom? He lifted his gaze, just enough to see the doorknob turn. The scarred door swung open, and he saw Nathanial’s long, jean clad legs, his groin. Jeremy looked down, focusing on the man’s feet. His mouth went dry. “You finally decided to knock,” Nathanial said in the satin soft tone he knew made Jeremy shudder. Jeremy had told him often enough. Three months of telling. “Yes. I didn’t realise you knew I was here.” “’Course I did. I watched you drive in. I watched you come up to the door.” Again, Jeremy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, incredibly aware of the thong holding his crotch a little too tightly. He forced his hands to remain where they were, not to tug at the too-fucking-tight cup, or the strap between his butt cheeks.