Home » Articles posted by denysebridger

Author Archives: denysebridger

Deadly vengeance (adult content)

ImageRETRIBUTION: Silent Death
Genre: Contemporary Action/Thriller
Publisher: Crimson Frost Books
Adam Walker is one of the Company’s best field agents, a highly trained, well-honed killing machine when that’s what’s needed. But, he’s also a man of many secrets, and one of them is that he’s a ninja, one of Japan’s mythical death warriors. When another of Adam’s secrets, his lover Kiku, is killed, he turns to the one person he trusts, fellow agent Shainna Barton. While Shainna covers for him on a mission, Adam metes out his revenge, and discovers that his friendship with Shainna has a much deeper meaning that either of them ever realized…
Adam’s steps were sure and silent as he made his way to the rear of the small theater. Exhaustion consumed him, but the residue of rushing adrenaline afforded his body a moment of false energy. Successful in yet another assignment—when the body turned up with the stolen files, there’d be no questions asked. Business as usual.
Still, the timing had been off, and there’d been no time to warn Kiku to stay at home. Uneasiness whispered inside him again, as it had for most of the past hour. Not for the first time during recent weeks, though . . . . He wondered if it had been wise to reject her desire to take their relationship to a more intimate involvement. Loving Kiku was as natural to him as breathing. But being her lover was something he hadn’t honestly considered. Not until she’d brought it to his attention.
Why he hadn’t noticed her love changing to passion baffled him now, as he thought about it. He’d told her intimacy of that kind would create distractions within his mind—the kind that might one day get them both killed. She’d been skeptical, though uncharacteristically reticent about explaining why, when he questioned her quick acceptance of his decision.
He thrust the doubts aside as he reached her office and entered. As always, the closet-like room appeared in complete chaos. An organized mess, she called it. He crossed the short space and picked up the phone as he settled on the edge of her desk. He was about to dial her home number when a flicker of movement drew his attention to the small, private parking lot separating the theater from a large apartment building next door. Adam slipped the receiver into its cradle and moved to stand in the shadows next to the small window behind her desk.
He spotted Kiku’s nearly naked body and he froze. Instinct guided him as fear and rage surged through him. Reaching beyond the haze of tumultuous emotions, he drew on his training. A careful look at Kiku told him she was dead . . . her neck broken. Again, the flicker of shadows betrayed a presence. He waited. Seconds passed, so drawn out by tension they felt like hours, but one-by-one he saw each figure with striking clarity. And in that brief instant, each of the five faces was burned indelibly into his memory. He knew one of them by name, and recognized the others as students of Caisson’s dojo. The heavy weight of the gun under his left arm all but spoke to him the alluring suggestion to pull the weapon and use it was so tempting. Adam had to force himself to resist using his weapon, a task made all the more difficult when Caisson bent over Kiku and placed a mocking kiss on her forehead.
He tore his gaze away, no longer trusting his ability to control his grief-enhanced rage. As he leaned against the wall, he realized he’d been holding his breath. Slowly, he exhaled, shaking uncontrollably despite his imposed strength of will.
When the wracking spasms of anguish subsided, he emerged from the theater’s office and left without looking back.
* * * * *
Less than half an hour later, Adam slipped into Kiku’s small flat. Like her office, it was in disarray, although not to the same exaggerated extent. He did a thorough, systematic search of the entire four rooms, removing every trace of his presence in her life. The items were few, for he seldom left even the smallest of articles behind. No photographs of them to be found, together or individually, a house rule they’d agreed to years earlier.
Hovering in the doorway, he took one final look at the place. It was so much like her, he thought, inhaling the light residue of sandalwood incense in the air. Books on every subject to satisfy her insatiable thirst for knowledge were strewn about, along with old theater posters, exotically painted masques, and cassettes and CDs in various languages. Despite his protestations, a map hung on the wall, dotted with postcards from the countries they’d traveled together. He hesitated for a moment then decided to collect the cards and destroy the map.
When he finished, he locked the door and turned his back on this place, too. Kiku would have expected nothing less from him.
* * * * *
Shainna Barton sighed in weariness as she kicked open the door to her apartment to drag her luggage inside. She’d been out of the country for over a month this time, and home seemed more appealing than she would have thought possible. She was growing tired in more ways than one.
A quick slam and the door shut firmly, leaving her in the silent, air-conditioned sanctuary she’d bought only a year before, a purchase she’d recognized as the first step toward her accepting pending retirement from the field.
She’d called home the night before, and her oldest and dearest friend had opened the apartment and stocked the cupboards for her. DeeDee Caulwell was one of the few constants in Shainna’s life. She honestly didn’t know what she’d do without her.
The phone rang. She stole a glance at the caller ID. Dee. Shainna dropped her shoulder bag and flopped into a chair as she grabbed the phone. The worry in DeeDee’s voice hit before the actual words, and Shainna automatically reached for the TV remote control to turn on the news report her friend was going on about with such dread. The reporter’s words ran together as Shainna’s world twisted wildly on its axis. Her pulse roared so loud in her ears she barely heard DeeDee say she was on her way over.
* * * * *
From her window seat, Shainna looked out at the night sky. Her chill had very little to do with the air-conditioned air. The ice reached into her soul and expanded outward to her quivering limbs. She wasn’t prone to infatuation, never had been, but there was something almost obsessive in her passion for Adam Walker. They were friends; the relationship worked for them. But Shainna had realized, long ago, the hunger she felt in Adam’s company had precious little to do with being friends. If she’d been less honest, she would have hated Kiku Shimoda, simply for being the love in Walker’s life. But Shainna was too much a realist to pretend the other woman was the reason Adam didn’t love her.
She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her head thump gently against the wall at her back. Adam’s amazing topaz eyes came into focus so quickly she was startled to discover he wasn’t next to her. She could feel him, though. All around her. Inside her heart. His pain was agonizing—and total. He was out there, and by now, he knew.
“What are you going to do, Adam?” She asked the question aloud, as was her custom when working possible angles to a puzzle. She shivered when the answer, like a cold caress, brushed her consciousness—a promise of mayhem and death—as if Adam had spoken directly into her mind. They’d been connected on some level for what felt like forever. And in that moment, she wondered if he’d actually heard her and responded.
Before the odd thought could create another conundrum for her to ponder, she was distracted by a knock at the door. She crossed the room and opened the door, breathing a thankful sigh at the sight of her friend.
“Are you all right?”
She shut the door as DeeDee glided past, shedding her coat and tossing it into a chair before she turned to Shainna.
“I’m still trying to take in what’s happened.” Shainna confessed. “This is going to destroy Adam. Especially when he finds out what the press is reporting. I don’t even know where to find him, Dee!”
“Maybe that’s for the best.” DeeDee’s features showed visible concern.
Adam Walker was always a touchy subject between them, and the gentle censure in her friend’s voice made Shainna’s temper flare.
“Okay, Shain.” DeeDee held up her hands in a gesture of surrender before Shainna had time to snap. “Truce. Back off. What are you planning, anyway?”
“If I know Adam, he’s going to find who did this.” She paced, chewed her thumbnail, and tried to make her brain function past her fear for the man. Kiku was the world to Adam, and Shainna knew—via the Division grapevine—the two had been a solid couple for some time. Whether or not the rumors were based on truth wasn’t relevant to her heart. She’d tried not to resent Kiku for Adam’s lack of interest, but it hadn’t been easy when every part of her spirit and body cried for the man in ways she wished rather to never have experienced.
“And . . . .” She finally added. “He’s going to make them pay for what they did to her—in blood.”
“That sounds like Adam,” DeeDee agreed, her tone reflecting her dislike and her near contempt for the man they discussed.
“Why do you hate him so much?”
Startled, DeeDee didn’t answer for a moment, then she laughed. “I hate what he does to you. Adam himself means nothing to me. I know you’d walk through hell for him, and he wouldn’t have to ask you to do it. What would he do for you, Shain?”
“The same thing if I needed him.”
“You’re so certain of that. Why?”
“Because he’s Adam. Because what exists between us is a lot deeper than simply trusting another agent with your back.”
“What happened in Italy last year?” DeeDee asked. “You’ve never said much, but something changed between you and Adam on that mission.”
“Yeah, we took our last day and went sight-seeing like normal people. I got drunk and told him I loved him. We blamed the wine the next day, and pretended it never happened.”
“What did he say?”
“I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies.”
DeeDee’s frown of confusion made Shainna laugh. “It’s a quote we found earlier that day, a 15th century Italian poet called Pietro Aretino wrote it. Adam told me we were friends, there was no room for anything else between us.”
“But he’s always willing to ask you to risk your life for him!”
“It’s my job, Dee. And his!”
“Not this time. This time it’s personal, so you should stay out of it.”
“How am I supposed to do that? He’s going to need backup, and if I know Adam, he’s going to make it clear he wants me.”
“Doesn’t mean Michael will agree.” DeeDee reasoned. She’d been fidgeting and tidying up the apartment from the moment she’d started the conversation. Now, she stopped moving. “He does have some control over Adam.”
Shainna laughed at DeeDee’s careful words, barely recognizing the shrill, hysterical edge that turned the sound brittle. “No one controls Adam,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Michael knows that better than anyone.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
Shainna trembled. “Wait.” She returned to the window and stared into the night once again. “I’m going to wait for him. What else can I do?”
Denysé Bridger
“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Preditors & Editors Best Author 2012-2013 **
Fantasy Pages (general):
Bound By Passion (adult content):

Ancient Pompeii on the eve of destruction



Available again at

Amazon and through Smashwords

Pompeii lies complacent and decadent in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, the populace thriving on their depravity and their hunger for blood and Games. In the midst of the looming destruction, an ancient evil emerges, and claims not only a celebrated general of Rome, but the slave girl he has slowly grown to love and cherish. A girl who will follow him into hell itself? 

While intrigues threaten to destroy him, and the corruption within his own family grows darker, Lucius confronts emotions he is both uncomfortable and unfamiliar with. Loyalty he does understand, and in the eyes of his prize slave and lover, Xina, he sees courage and strength to match his own. When Vesuvius begins to rain death on the city, Xina is confronted with hope for survival in the guise of evil… 


Whom Gods Have Favored 
By M. Nix on October 26, 2009 
***** Five Stars 

In the last days of Pompeii, Mt. Vesuvius stirs while high ranking men like Lucius gorge on power and pleasure. Lucius purchases Xina, a beautiful slave girl in the market place. He is consumed by passion for her from the start. Jealousy, passion, deceit and danger surround the handsome general and the sensuous young virgin that has become his obsession. 

Darkly emotional, Whom Gods Have Favored is an exciting and well-crafted tale plush with historical details that yanked me in until the curtain closed. Denysé Bridger’s characters are complex, riveting in their vices and weaknesses. It’s fascinating the way she explores the more sinister aspects of the human psyche. Lucius and Xina are lovers and much more in the making. In reading this wondrous story I got into the “making”, their evolvement along the course of love. Ms. Bridger paints a somber and visually stunning portrait, hammering out line after line; a gifted wordsmith with a luminous imagination. If you haven’t encountered this author before, this is an excellent intro to her style and first rate talent. 

Reviewed for Joyfully Reviewed 

4 Kisses: As noted, the setting of Whom Gods Have Favored is the book’s strongest selling point. The research is evident, and Bridger’s characters are comfortable in their world. Lucius is immediately a strong, sensual character and his desire leaps off the page. Xina, on the other hand, is a little less well defined. She is introduced as a strong, take no prisoners heroine but seems to undergo a personality change when she enters Lucius’s household. I wanted her to show him that spark, because he seemed like a man who finds it both maddening and desirable, but instead Xina retreats into typical slave-girl mode almost immediately. While this is probably more realistic, it was a little disappointing. The attraction between them feels genuine, however, and though the introduction of the paranormal element is only peripherally connected to the main characters until the epilogue, it provided an interesting resolution to the story. 

Reviewed by Melanie Hayden 
Romance Divas 

4 Stars: Set during the time when Rome ruled the world, Whom Gods Have Favored gives us a glimpse of what life would have been like had we live in Pompeii before Mt. Vesuvius destroyed all. Much as I hated reading about the enslavement of women and the helplessness that ensued, it was definitely a part of life and Ms. Bridger did an excellent job of bringing that to view. I found myself loving Lucius, despite the fact that he was a male that was used to getting whatever female he wanted. I felt for Xina, in the fact that even though she was born into a brothel and subjected to naked men, she was an innocent in the true ways of the male, and she was just trying to survive life as a slave. There is a unique twist that takes the story in a whole new direction, and made for an interesting read. The story was a good love story that spanned the ages. 

Stacey Landers 
Just Erotic Romance Reviews 

Vampire mystery / romance is back at a discount price!

Now Priced at $0.99
Available from:

When Detective Faith Fitzpatrick is assigned as a liaison to the police force in Montreal, intent on helping the detectives there capture a killer who’s MO matches one she’s hunted at home in Los Angeles, she is ill-prepared for what awaits her in the beautiful jewel city of Canada’s French province. Mysteriously drawn to her temporary partner, Adrian Blackthorne, she rebels against his allure, only to be drawn into an even deeper darkness when Adrian’s past snares her – and she becomes a pawn in the deadly battle between the vampire Blackthorne and the powerful master he has long denied?


Julianna was seated at the bar again, her rage telegraphing itself to everyone within her orbit. She could feel the wide circles made to avoid her, and felt perverse satisfaction at the awareness that many of those present were decidedly afraid of her just now. She was almost spitting with indignation, and the wine in her hand no longer appeased her mood in any fashion.

“Damn you!” she hissed in an undertone.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” a new voice observed with mild amusement.

Startled much more than she should have been, Julianna swiveled the bar stool and smiled.

“Of course not, Adrian.”

Adrian surveyed her with a critical eye, and perched on the stool next to her. “Then who is in danger of damnation?” he asked with more curiosity than genuine interest. He had other concerns at the moment. But, winning Julianna’s help usually meant having to ease into the need for it, so, he played the friendly game of banter.

“No one you need worry over, I assure you, mon amour.” She looked back at him, quickly and accurately reading his mood. “You didn’t come here for conversation, Adrian. What is it you are trying to ask of me this time?”

“Have you seen anybody new here tonight?”

Suspicion flared within her, but it never reached her outer composure. “Many people drift in and out, Adrian. Am I expected to keep a record of them for you?”

“This one’s a cop,” Blackthorne told her, his voice hard. “An out of town cop named Faith Prentice. Shiller told her she might like this place.”

“Perhaps she would?” Julianna suggested with a tilt of her head. “Many do.”

“Was she here, Julianna?” Adrian demanded, quickly losing patience with the verbal fencing.


Something in the flat reply sparked suspicion in Adrian, and he turned her eyes back to meet his when she looked away.

“When was she here?”

She glared at him, but offered no answer.

“Julianna!” He grabbed her arm, not bothering to be gentle, nor to masque his considerable irritation. “Where is she?”

She jerked her arm free of his grasp and considered her answer. She quickly decided it would be much easier to get the young woman out of her club than risk Adrian?s wrath. There was a certain amount of enjoyment in the knowledge that this would deny Cartier of his prize, too. And, she added mentally, he would blame Adrian for that loss, not her.

“She is with Cartier.” She dropped the news with a toss of her head, and laughed as he rushed toward the back room?

Cartier recovered quickly from the blow that had sent him reeling away from Faith, and he turned glowing eyes to the one who’d dared to strike him. Adrian! He should have known. Even through the lust-enhanced hunger, Cartier was aware of Faith inching across the floor in an effort to escape. The scent of her fear was as tempting as her passion of minutes earlier. He’d find this one again, he promised himself, if she were fortunate enough to escape him after all this night.

“You are going to push me too far one day, Adrian,” Cartier warned, his eyes still blazing fury at the younger vampire.

“Maybe,” Adrian agreed, one eye watching Faith’s progress as he tried to fight down the urge to kill. “Tonight I intend to see that a friend remains safe.”

“This lovely creature is a friend of yours?” Cartier asked, once more taking firm control of both himself and the situation. “Your taste improves, Adrian.”

The mantle of ice had returned. Adrian knew there would be no further need to fight — not tonight, at any rate. Cartier was considering another time and another venue for their next meeting. Adrian had no illusions about it being a pleasant encounter. If anything, he sensed death in the other’s mind. True and lasting death. It was not the first time since Cartier’s return that Adrian wondered when the master vampire would demand his retribution – in full. So far, despite frequent confrontations, Cartier had not seriously attempted to destroy him. Yet, Adrian felt the time was nearing.

“Take her, Adrian. You’ve risked more than you know for her,” Cartier whispered softly. He watched the wariness grow within the former knight’s deep blue eyes then filter into Adrian’s expressive features. The ancient vampire laughed quietly as Blackthorne grabbed Faith’s arm and helped her to her feet. They were out of the room without another word being uttered?


Giveaway is almost over….

ImageThe book tour is over, but remember, if you’d like to purchase this book in March, the publisher site is offering it in all formats at 25% off, so check there first.http://naughtynightspress.com/nnpstore2/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=32&products_id=104
Also, the giveaway will run for 2 more days before closing, and you can still enter here for a cool set of prizes! http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e1b82b98/

Triad of Power: First Quest (mild erotic content)

ImageA few years ago I released a book called Royal Consort. It was a fun title, and combined my love of fantasy with my love of romance with an erotic touch. Somehow, I never found the right publisher for the book, and it just sort of died. Back in January, I requested return of the book, and it has since undergone a major revision to become book one in a trilogy. THE TRIAD OF POWER: First Quest was released December 22nd. I’m really enjoying this story now that’s it’s been revised and edited, and leading to two more adventures. I hope you enjoy a peek at it, too!


Crimson Frost Books


Available Now at:

Publisher | ARe Romance Books | Amazon

Book One of Three: During the time before the Great Forbidding was created, it was believed the defiance of the Renegades could be contained. To that end, the Council of Power called upon their Ancient Gods for assistance. In response, the Gods ordered creation of the Triad of Power–three swords, each one imbued with the essence of a gift unique to those who would wield the weapons as the Guardians of Foress. Like all magic, each crafted blade contained the driving sorcery of its creator–not all wizards are immune to the weaknesses of men, and within the Triad, conflict itself was bred without conscious intent or knowledge. So begins the legend, and the epic fantasy of the TRIAD OF POWER.


As contented peace steeped the air around them, and they were able to breathe in near silence again, Sherindal contemplated her surroundings. On her knees, with the Prince of Ember still sheathed within her, she had never known a moment of more perfect serenity and completion. Her senses hummed with awareness of everything: the texture of the bed linen, cool silk, caressing her heated skin, the subtle patterns swirling amid the tapestries that hung on the stone walls of the bedchamber, even the heavy scent of candle wax added another layer of appreciation to her happiness.


“You really are magnificent, Sher,” Rienn whispered, his arms wrapped around her, drawing her close.


She leaned to one side, looped her arm around his neck and drew his mouth to hers in a kiss that was filled with gentle passion.


“I do love you, Rienn.”


Rienn nodded. His hands on her waist moved her. She shivered as he slipped free of her. “I’ll order a bath and some food,” he told her.


She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Later. I want you to hold me.”


Rienn stretched out and pulled her down to him, spooning her body to his when he pressed her back to his chest.


They’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.




The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed when he released her. She scooped up her weapon as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness. She whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon, and they fought, back to back.


Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.


Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room, and the blade she wielded, Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled when the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.


“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.


“Who are they?” she asked, her tone cold as she met his gaze.


“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”


“Really?” One eyebrow rose in emphasis of her sardonic tone. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.


Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.


“You can be an evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.


Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance reminded her of the slash near her left hip.


“Enough, Rienn,” she said.


He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the center of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.


His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.


“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered.


Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault in his private rooms.


“Get them out of here, then report to Radisan.”


“Radisan will no doubt beat the life out of them, Rienn,” she remarked. “Your brother is overzealous when it comes to punishment. He enjoys watching other people writhe, especially when he is the orchestrator of their anguish.”


“Would you rather I reward them for their lapse?” he snapped. “We could have been killed, Sher!”


“Highly unlikely. Get me my own clothes,” she requested. “I want to dress.”


“You’re not going anywhere,” he warned from his position near the door. As the two guards dragged the last of the fallen men into the hall, he slammed the door into place and speared his lover with a look that frequently froze men in their tracks. Sherindal rose from the bed to retrieve her belongings.




She sighed and began to apply salve from the small medicine kit she carried. When the wound was smeared with the peach-colored cream, she wrapped clean linen around her hips, then continued to dress. Dark brown trousers, forest green tunic, black boots and vest, and lastly the sword, in a sheath that she wore at her back, the glittering hilt visible between her shoulders when she faced the Prince again.


“Rienn,” she said gently. “I would not leave you if it wasn’t necessary. This is something I must do. I have no choice!”


Rienn’s unusual eyes flared with anger, and he strode toward her, stopping when her head moved so that she might hold his look. He towered over her, and often used that height to keep her off balance when they were this close. She had told him that he was a drug she was addicted to, and the sensuality of their passion had grown with their aging. She would have made a perfect queen, but his father had long ago threatened Rienn with banishment if he took Sherindal as his wife. The old man had said on many occasions he would hold the throne forever from Rienn if he dared to believe a witch would be an appropriate queen for Ember. Sherindal seemed more than happy to be his consort, with none of the advantages that position could have offered.


Ironically, by his own decree, Rienn’s father had also insured he’d never have the grandchildren he desired, for Rienn would not betray his love for Sherindal by accepting another woman in his bed. The King believed that to be one more proof of Sher’s sorcery, her hold on the oldest son of Ember’s Royal House. Love was an emotion the old man mocked and disdained, and one he had never understood. Rienn’s mother had died many years earlier, and they had been closer than many sons and mothers. They had been friends and confidants. The Queen had approved completely of Rienn’s choice of mate.


“I have no choice.”



Available Now at:


ARe Romance Books | Amazon


“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Predators & Editors Best Author 2012 **

Bella, Bella Signorina… a sweetly sensual romance

ImageThis is the third time BELLA SIGNORINA has been released, and I’m hoping the last time as it finds a home at Eirelander Publishing in both eBook and Audio. This is the first time, though, that my original manuscript is what you will read. Edited, polished, and breathlessly romantic! Set in the Eternal City of Rome, Italy – the night just got a little bit steamier when two people finally give in to their attraction for each other and take a leap that might change their lives forever…. A best-seller for six months when it was released a few years ago, this version is a little sexier, a little hotter, and whole lot more sensual — take a look and fall in love….
In its original format for the first time!
Genre: Sweetly sensual contemporary romance
Publisher: Eirelander Publishing
Set in Rome, Bella Signorina is a sweet, romantic story of two people who meet in a trendy caffè, and through the magic of dance and music discover they have many things in common. Bianca comes to Caffè Rosati every week, and for many weeks she’s been watching a special man, a handsome, charming stranger who dances, flirts, and leaves alone each week. Bianca is a woman who enjoys her freedom, and has been hurt before, so she’s not anxious to fall in love again. Something about the enigmatic Stefano has captivated her heart, though, and she is drawn to him in spite of herself. When she finally gathers her courage to approach him, and ask him to dance, little does she know that her entire world is about to change.
Stefano Esposito is a man who’s past relationships have not left him much in the way of ideals about women. Many have claimed to love him, none have understood him. Stefano is a rare breed in today’s world of fast-paced life and love. He is a gentleman, a man who many consider a little out of step with the times. For Stefano, falling in love is the completion of a soul, not the consummation of a sexual itch. He wants the woman in his life to respect, understand, and adore him, as he will her. When he meets Bianca, he wonders if he’s finally found the one he’s waited a lifetime for? She understands his internal conflicts, his desires, and his dreams, after only hours together.
When their attraction to each other flares too quickly and too intently, Stefano pulls back. Confused and uncertain, Bianca flees his beautiful home and business, and goes back to her busy life. But, once the dance has begun, is there a way to go back to what you knew before, or is it just a matter of time before the music lures you back to your dreams and, perhaps, makes them reality?
Read an excerpt:
I simply smiled and raised a glass when she walked over
Then love began, she took my hand, and said let’s dance…
Bianca allowed the music to surge into her being, until the only thing real was the easy rhythm of motion that had her spinning into the pulsing sounds of the catchy song. She’d danced with Gianni many times, and no thought was involved, only the perfect movement and the music. He was an excellent partner, and as always, the song ended too soon. Tonight, as often happened, there was a small burst of applause for the performance they’d given.
She smiled and turned to go back to her table when the handsome stranger at the bar lifted his glass and saluted her. For just an instant, the cafe and its patrons vanished, and there was only his sparkling eyes and the humor that emanated from him. Excitement surged into her veins, making her reckless and determined. Bianca murmured an excuse to Gianni, then changed direction and headed directly for the beautiful man she’d been wanting to meet.
When she stood in front of him, she offered her hand.
He took it, kissed it, and waited, faint challenge in his eyes.
She ignored the tremor working its way into her knees and making them wobbly.
“Let’s dance,” she invited.
Laughter accompanied the shake of his head.
Bianca eyed him with amusement.
“I don’t dance, bella.”
His voice was soft, richly modulated, and layered with too many subtleties to readily define them all.
“Of course you do,” she countered, her head tilting to one side. “I’ve seen you dance here.”
“Not like you do,” he replied.
He reached for his wine, and she caught his hand and tugged, gently but insistently drawing him with her as she walked back to the dance floor, her gaze locked with his startled look. The four piece band was just beginning a lively number when Bianca struck a pose and waited for him to take the lead. He did, and she was totally unprepared for the shock of awareness that went through her when he pulled her to him and they started to move like one person…
“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Predators & Editors Best Author 2012 – 2013 **

The Gates of Infinity (pirate fantasy world / erotic)

ImageThe Gates of Infinity (novella)
Genre: Erotic Pirate Fantasy
THE GATES OF INFINITY lead to a different world where passion and deception may yet destroy two universes about to collide. Will time continue to turn upon itself, or will the mirror of our world open the gate and return stranded pirates and their sorcerous consorts to familiar shores?
The story poem that begins the novella:


ocean kissed sands wink diamonds into the night
the whisper of waves caresses nerves taut with panic
the sea-foam surf is a balm to troubled spirits
and the abyss of down-soft waters beckons as a lover’s embrace

out there, somewhere, is a ship
using stars to guide a course to infinity
eternity, too, has a path to follow
and a destiny to fulfill

standing on the rooftop of a once-thriving inn
I wonder at the fate that pulls me ever closer to death
isolation has become a way of life, my existence
against all my efforts to turn away from the void before me

the sea calls to me, pulls at my soul with seductive purpose
I hear voices carried on the misted winds
promises that I can’t quite define
but which haunt my heart and inflict greater agonies

I turn away to pursue the sandman of my dreams
despite the knowledge that there will be no respite there
no escape from transient demons and specters
no shelter in the arms of Morpheus

eyes close and breaths lengthen and deepen
then he comes to me, the devil who torments my being
with sensuous murmurs and erotic promises
he shows me what my life is without, what I deny within myself

the dream begins…..

the gentle sway of the ship is the rhythm of passion and sex
the lap of waves the stroke of a lover’s tongue over a swell of quivering flesh
the surge of the tide is his possession of my eager body
the fall befits our writhing ascent into heaven

who are you? I ask in mystified wonder
am I afraid of his answer, or anticipating it?
he laughs, a hearty, faintly mocking reverberation of humor
and my blood runs cold, then hot with rage

he is magnificent, this proud pirate who steals
with the exquisite skill of a thieving seducer claiming his virgin prize
dark hair streams and smoky eyes gleam with anticipation
and this is what I have been born to desire?

lover…. friend…. enemy…. destiny….
his hands have taught me love and pain
his heart has scarred me with hatred and unbearable pleasure

mentor…. destroyer…. confidant…. father….
you drove me to his arms, intent on betrayal
and in the end it was I who was betrayed, by myself

he touched me, and I was whole in his hands,
balanced on the edge of discovery and despair
I went willingly to his bed and his heart
asked desperately to remain prisoner to his destiny

he kissed me, a soft caress that vowed so much more would follow
and I stood before him, naked in all ways, desiring
things I could not yet name, but knew within me
and he held me with his gaze, searching for deceit, finding only trust

his hands stripped me of everything, while giving everything back
his mouth, soft, wet, suckling at my breast, gave me the taste of euphoria
hot, rigid velvet sheathed within my clutching body tortured me with ecstasy
and his possession defined my being and made me what I am

sorceress…. companion…. seer…. hope….
I am Mahjrah’s mate, and his life is mine, as mine is his
though we both have often wished it were not so

and I have betrayed my beloved captain…..

comrade…. strength…. protector…. deception….
what we did was wrong, yet it, too, was predestined in so many ways
Mahjrah made you my champion, and that story is as old as time itself

and now I stand before him again, waiting and afraid
trembling with need and terror, and reawakened love
yes, I love you, Mahjrah, always and only you
and somewhere inside you, I feel the poison of my treachery

you are uncertain, even as you stand solid and ever strong
the serpent of doubt and suspicion has bitten deep
that venom mingles with the heart’s blood of our bond
and I do not know which will emerge as the stronger power

still, you have taken me again, in passion and welcome
my body has been reclaimed, even as my spirit hides in shame
try as I may, I cannot forget the rapture that you gave me
and all I am able to offer you now is the frightened shell I have become

you deserve far better, you have asked for little,
given everything without question or price
until now, when a challenge far greater than others removes our choices
now you charge me with the task of finding our home

I have always thought my home was in your eyes
but the romanticism of that whimsy is a joke in the face of this harsh reality
you demand a gateway to another life
and I must find a way to obey this command

our world….
close enough to touch, to feel….
the parallel of this prison in which we have been trapped…..

Part Two: a short scene…

The moon shone silver across the restless waters of the cove, casting spectral shadows of ice into the endless ripples of the current. Sitting alone on the shore, Veranna stared at the magical night-scape and felt despair engulf her anew. They’d been stranded for eternal weeks, and no member of the crew looked upon her with warmth or friendliness now. Except the Captain, Mahjrah’s eyes held unflinching kindness and undeniable love. Her salvation, she knew.
She shifted her line of vision and shivered when her eyes came into contact with the repaired ship anchored in the small harbor. The mast stretched upward and the rigging stood starkly outlined, a wraith-like silhouette against the glowing orb sweeping steadily across the sky. The Scarab waited with patience her crew did not possess. Waited for her to summon knowledge and power she no longer controlled.
“Mahjrah’s looking for you.”
Startled, Veranna turned, and sighed inwardly at the cool masque of Doren’s indifference.
“I’m afraid, Doren,” she murmured without conscious thought.
Anger sparked in his eyes and she flinched. His expression softened with regret an instant later and he sat next to her.
“We’re all afraid, Veri,” he confessed with clear reluctance.
“I can’t imagine you, or Ehtionne, feeling fear.” She smiled in spite of herself.
“Everyone’s afraid of something, Veranna,” he chided. “Even Mahjrah.”
“You say that as if I should know your fear, but not his.”
“You’ve seen my fear, Veri,” he muttered, voice tinged with bitterness. “Even if you don’t remember it just now.”
He added the last with self-deprecating irony, and she felt a tremor begin deep within her. It burned through her with shocking speed, leaving her quivering against all she didn’t know.
“What is he searching for that I am supposed to know about?”
“Ask him,” Doren told her candidly. “Maybe that’s what he wants to talk to you about now?”
Suspicion flared in her dark eyes and he laughed at her.
“He doesn’t tell me what he wants from you, Veranna,” he said with a hint of derision.
“I suppose he doesn’t really have to, does he?” she retorted and rose. “He wants the same thing the rest of you want, the impossible.” She strode away, angered beyond reason by the exchange. She was still scowling when she found Mahjrah further down the shore.
The tall captain watched her approach, his expression guarded, but curious.
“You look as if you wish to kill someone, lady,” he remarked.
“Perhaps I do,” she replied, looking past his shoulder to the men who were standing a short distance from them. “What is it you want, Mahjrah?” she asked, suddenly weary.
“Darius is near, Veranna,” he said quietly, very serious now. “We need an escape from this place before Isiress pinpoints our location.”
“Isiress can control her magic, Ehtionne,” Veranna reminded him, uncomfortably aware of the many ears listening to their words. “I have no such strength. You ask what I cannot give.”
Dark eyes glittered like onyx in the flickering flames of the torches that had been lit. Veranna held her breath, waiting for anger, hoping desperately for understanding.
Slowly, Mahjrah nodded. He went to take her by the elbow, then led her toward the small circle of huts they’d erected for the duration of their stay on the isle. When they reached the relative privacy of their quarters, he sat her down and knelt before her.
“I know you can defeat this sorceress who guards The Pharaoh’s Ghost,” he began firmly, but gently. “But you must know it, too, my lady,” he continued, tone pitched to a sensual purr of sound. “You possess great power and knowledge, Veranna, and we need both while we are so vulnerable.”
“I’ve been trying, Mahjrah,” she assured him. “I want to help you!”
He considered her words with a seriousness that inexorably woke fear as she waited for him to voice whatever dark thoughts were creating such fierceness in his handsome features. When his low, gravel-textured voice finally stirred the air between them, she trembled.
“We need to take a great risk, love,” he began ominously. “One that may be our last hope of recovering your lost memory.” Dark eyes clashed as he forced her to meet his stare. “Do you trust our bonds, Veranna?”
It seemed a totally inappropriate question, and that, too, frightened her for eternal seconds as he awaited her reply. Unable to form the words, she nodded mutely, the response an intuitive answer born in her heart. He accepted her nod after only a second’s hesitation, then rose and left. A moment later, she heard his strong voice shouting for Doren. Hugging herself tightly, she listened as Mahjrah ordered his mate to bring Veranna’s trunk from the ship. When he re-entered the hut again short minutes later, Mahjrah carried a silver bowl etched with magical rhunes and filled with ashes. Behind him, Gianni came in with hands full of the mystical candles. He put them next to the bowl that Mahjrah had placed in the center of the hut’s rough floor, then he left them without a word.
“Tell me what you remember,” Mahjrah ordered.
“Place the candles that contain sky, earth and fire in a circle around us,” she replied without thought. His smile was an encouragement she responded to, and she continued quickly, lest she lose the precious strand of knowledge. “Strength, divination, and earth power.”
Mahjrah did as she requested, and by the time he was done, Doren and Marcello had retrieved the heavy case that had a permanent place beneath the captain’s bunk. Doren looked Veranna, his doubt clear, but he held his silence. Moments later, the captain and his lover were alone again.
“Choose your magic, lady,” he said and indicated the case that stood inside the doorway. “I fear that we have little time.”
Trusting to instinct once again, Veranna rose and went to the case. She opened it, and inhaled the enticing aroma of spices and herbs, and the tingle of mystical power that emanated from things hidden in the lowest levels of the case. As before, music was an undercurrent that guided her, attuned her to the very earth on which she stood. She lifted the upper tray of items and looked into the more powerful objects held in the chest. Mahjrah’s hand reached past hers, and he retrieved a key from the corner, a key that was gold on one side, and silver on the other, perfectly melded together, each side carrying the symbols that were on the coins contained in the chest they guarded. The key dangled from a cord made of strands of hair, hers and his, entwined with ribbons of blue and ebony, the colors of their eyes; he slipped it over her head and smiled when it came to rest just above the shadow between her breasts.
Aphrodeesia enchantrae,” he whispered roughly, his hands gliding over her back, before he moved to stand behind her and cup full breasts as he began to nuzzle her neck.
Shaking with another layer of emotion now, Veranna reached for the requested amalgam. She sucked in a rasp of air when the pressure of his hands increased and his sure fingers teased already straining nipples to greater sensitivity. Guided by instinct, she let the powder fall into the silver bowl, mingling with the ashes that would stir to life and reawaken her memories. The music that symbolized her power began to rise and find voice inside her.
Denysé Bridger
“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Best-Selling Author of 2011 **
Fantasy Pages (general):
Bound By Passion (adult content):

Mirage – contemporary (adult content)

Genre: Contemporary erotic
Publisher/Buy  |  Amazon  |  Kobo Books  |  Barnes & Noble  |  ARe Romance Books
When Kristy signed on to be John Smythe’s executive assistant, she never imagined falling in love with the coldly handsome and ruthless CEO. Yet, that’s precisely what happened. In Smythe’s hands, the company prospered, even if his partner didn’t. Wheeler Enterprises is in the middle of a fraud investigation when Douglas Wheeler dies, and his only daughter is all that stands between Smythe and complete control of the Wheeler company.
When Detective Peter King comes into the picture, and accuses Smythe of more than corporate dirty-dealing, Kristy’s life is suddenly a lot more complicated than she wants it to be…
Read an excerpt…
“That was not one of your brightest ideas, Karen,” Smythe stated when he was seated at his desk.
“Obviously not,” she agreed through clenched teeth. “But I’m getting desperate to make someone listen to me.”
“Why can’t you just let go of this?” John said, his quiet, controlled voice pitched to a lulling tone. “You’re only causing yourself unnecessary aggravation with this nonsense.”
“Aggravation?” she repeated in disbelief. “You’re systematically killing off my family, and you call it aggravation?”
Smythe’s expression darkened dangerously, and he rose from his chair. The motion was graceful, like a sleek, stalking leopard scenting prey. Karen shifted uneasily in her seat, her eyes never leaving the smooth flow of his movement, fascinated by him in spite of her instinctive aversion. She still couldn’t conceal the tiny start of fright she felt when he leaned over her, lithe, long fingered hands curving over her shoulders as his voice murmured near her ear.
“You would do well to keep thoughts like that to yourself, my dear,” he advised. “If you continue to push me, Karen, I promise things could get very unpleasant. Not just for you, but for those around you.”
“What are you planning to do, Smythe?” she snapped. “Arrange to have a building fall on me?”
John’s laughter was chilling, and he drew her out of the chair and brushed aside a soft strand of rich, dark hair. He let his touch linger on her cheek just long enough to make her wince.
“Continue to push me, Karen, and I’ll begin an investigation of my own. One that will not relent until I know who attempted to kill Douglas. Though I have pretty solid suspicions about that now.”
Fear instantly lit her expressive eyes, and she jerked away from him. His laughter chased her from his office a moment later.
* * * *
Peter and Kristy were almost back to Smythe’s office when the door swept open and Karen burst into the corridor. Peter left Kristy and was at Karen’s side in an instant. Tears streamed down the woman’s ashen face. Behind her, like a silent wraith, John stood framed in the doorway, his expression thoughtful.
“What’s going on, Karen?” Peter asked, too absorbed in the woman to notice they were the center of attention within the office complex.
“Nothing!” she said, her voice quivering. “I want to go home, Peter. Please, just take me home.”
Kristy saw Peter finally take notice of John standing in the background. He got a single step toward John before Kristy stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. He swung around to look at her and Kristy shook her head. “Take Karen home as she’s asked, Peter. I’ll let you know what’s going on, I promise.”
He was surprised into silence, and Karen’s tug on his arm drew him away from any question he might have asked.
He and Karen headed for the elevator, and Kristy made sure they got on it before she entered John’s office with him and closed the door.
“Is there really a need to leave that girl in tears every time you speak to her, John?” Kristy asked.
He laughed quietly and perched on the wide window ledge. His gaze was focused on the two people getting into the detective’s black Honda parked in the Wheeler lot.
“Her defeat upset her. Not me.”
Kristy sighed, her hands on his shoulders. She leaned forward, kissed his cheek and waited for him to look at her. When the cool blue eyes met hers seconds later, she smiled. “You own Wheeler Research and Technology, darling. Leave it at that.”
John smiled back at her and pulled her into his arms. He bent to place a light kiss over her heart and let his tongue dip into the intriguing shadow just below her neckline. She shivered slightly and eased back.
“For the first time in my life, I have everything I want,” she whispered, her voice filled with rarely expressed emotion. “I don’t want to lose any of it.”
“You are getting sentimental, Kristy,” he teased. He ran a delicate caress along the curve of her cheekbone, long fingers like the brush of velvet against her skin. When his touch reached her mouth, he pulled her forward to meet his kiss.
“What is it you really don’t want to lose?” he asked her minutes later, his hand closing over one of her breasts, stroking persuasively.
She shook her head, and buried the response that would have revealed a truth she wasn’t sure she wanted to give him. The buzz of the intercom saved her the need for a reply, and she laughed in spite of her mood when John took the call but remained standing to answer it. She understood a moment later when he settled her in his chair, then unbuckled his belt and the button at his waist. She pushed his hands away and finished opening the front of his designer suit pants, freeing him from the suddenly confining briefs. John’s long fingers tangled in her hair as she took his smooth, hard cock into her mouth and began to suck and stroke with her tongue.
A few minutes later, she heard the phone being placed on the corner of the desk, and John drew her away with a hiss of reaction to the loss of her mouth engulfing him. He took her hands and tugged her to her feet, then pulled her soft, cashmere sweater over her head and tossed it aside. She hadn’t worn a bra and he had told her that morning to forget the underwear as well. Now she knew why. He turned her back to him, and hiked her skirt up around her waist as he stood behind her and made her lean over his desktop.
Kristy spread her legs and stifled the gasp of pleasure that quivered through her when he drove into her with a suddenness that was almost painful. His hands reached around and cupped her dangling breasts, squeezing and caressing them as he pinched her nipples to greater sensitivity. For an eternity of minutes the only sounds in the luxurious office where soft gasps and the slick, wet stroke of frenzied sex. Kristy’s teeth sank lightly into her own forearm as her body exploded with rapture and John’s low moan of release was lost in the center of her back a second later.
In a distant part of her mind, she wondered if anyone had knocked on the office door in the past ten minutes…
Read what the reviewers are saying…
“5 Cups!…Technically, there are four main characters in this tale, John Smythe and his assistant Kristy, Karen Wheeler and police detective, Peter King. Kristy is a wonderful character smart, strong, and ambitious. When she falls in love, she falls completely. Even when John is being accused of horrible things, she remains loyal and confident in her love. The love scenes between her and John are steamy and plentiful. The story itself is a pleasure. Within these pages, you will find danger and intrigue, mystery, along with lots of sizzling and sultry sex. Considering the book is only a mere 98 pages, the fact you can find all that inside tells you a lot. The story is well written and nicely delivered at a pace crisp enough to hold the reader’s attention without being hurried. My first by Ms. Bridger and it will definitely become the first of many!”—Johnna Flores, Coffee Time Romance
“4 Angels!…A perfect blend of romance, mystery and steamy sex. Ms. Bridger has outdone herself. I was captivated from the first word and could not put this book down. The chemistry between the couple is intense, both sexually and emotionally. John and Kristy?s relationship is rocked by the accusations thrown at John but their love does not falter.”—Tewanda, Fallen Angel Reviews
“4 Stars!…A short story with its very deft handling of the intricate storyline and characterizations that are brought to life through Ms. Bridger’s writing talent. There are some interesting twists and turns that keep the reader on tenterhooks to find out the when, what and why’s of this story. As the title suggests there are some hidden illusions and facets which make it a very fascinating and fast-paced book to read. There are also some very pleasant surprises in store for the reader. There are some truly hot, hot, hot scenes in this story that is part of the Suits, Ties, & The Water Cooler AmberPax? Collection. Despite John?s outward nature, he?s a very passionate and romantic man in private. And some of that passionate nature is directed toward his very fortunate executive assistant Kristy. You’ll find a cast of characters and an exciting plotline that make Mirage a very enjoyable story that will keep you guessing, like me, to discover what the outcome will be.”—Aggie Tsirikas, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
“4 Hearts!…A wonderful book that will thrill readers with the mystery and intrigue that abounds on every page. John is dangerous with a sensual personality and an alpha attitude. Kristy gives new meaning to the phrase ‘stand by your man,’ she is willing to believe the best in John and defend him to the end. The villain in this book is no surprise, but it still makes for interesting reading. Love scenes are so hot the pages almost burn; Denyse Bridger has done an excellent job of creating a plot that will keep readers glued to the pages.”—Angel Brewer, The Romance Studio

Texas Heat (adult)

Short contemporary erotic Western
Chase Jordan is a man with half his life missing since his return from the war in Iraq. He arrives back in Texas, a drifter looking for home. When he arrives at the Double D ranch, the owners know him, even if he can’t remember them. Cheyenne’s been infatuated with Chase since her high school days, but Deke MacKenzie’s already made it clear to Chase that his kid sister is off limits.
A loner by nature, and even more so now as PTSD plagues him, Chase rejects Cheyenne’s efforts to seduce him. He senses complications he wants no part of if he gets too close to her, and part of his soul is very much at home on the Double D. When an old boyfriend of Cheyenne’s goads him into a fight, his anger put him on all kinds of edge–and Cheyenne’s determination to turn up the Texas Heat get her in over her head…
Chase has warned her, he doesn’t play nice. When she ignores his invitation to leave, she puts herself at the mercy of his anger, his lust, and the most explosive passion she’s ever experienced… But what happens when the “job” is over, and Chase turns his back on her again? Memories are waking, the kind that will change both their lives in dramatic ways.
“Miss MacKenzie,” he said.
She walked around the truck and looked at him.
The speculative look in her eyes kissed the back of his neck with a tingle of uncertainty. He was always edgy around her, like something was close but still eluding him. He didn’t like it.
“It’s Cheyenne, Chase,” she reminded him.
He nodded. They’d done this dance a time or two before. There was something too familiar about her, but he couldn’t pin it down. The now customary flare of annoyance woke inside him. Half his damn past was missing since he’d come home from Iraq. Maybe he’d known her once, though he couldn’t imagine forgetting someone like her. “Something I can do for you, ma’am?”
She laughed and dropped the tailgate on the pickup, bending over with what he knew was deliberate intent. There was no denying the appeal of her well-shaped ass in the tight jeans, and his cock twitched in response. She turned, tossed him a beer, and sat on the tailgate looking at him while she took a swig of her own drink.
Chase opened the can of beer and drank half of it. He strolled to the truck, braced his arm casually on the side as he stared at her. “You haven’t answered my question, Cheyenne.”
She twisted around until she faced him, and cradled the cooler between her breasts. Her nipples were clearly outlined and pushing against the thin cotton of her tank-top.
He met her candid stare and grinned at the challenge in her expression.
“Why don’t you like people, Chase?”
“I like people just fine, ma’am,” he said. “I just prefer my own company to that of idiots.”
She considered his reply then shrugged. “Do you consider me an idiot, Chase?”
He laughed. “No, ma’am.”
“Good answer,” she said.
“I have work to do, Cheyenne.” He finished his beer and tossed the can into the ice-filled hamper containing the rest of the six-pack she’d brought with her.
“You work for me, too, Chase,” she reminded him softly.
He took a long look at her, his appraisal meant to be offensive and blatant.
At only a little over five feet tall, Chey was stacked and curvy in all the right places. Her long auburn hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, and she wore no makeup.
He dropped his gaze to her breasts, fingertips tingling as he contemplated what her skin would feel like, and taste like if he leaned in and took one of her ripe nipples into his mouth. She slid a little bit closer to him and he shook off the heat that was building inside him. “Thanks for the beer, ma’am. I’ll be getting back to my work now.”
He would have left but she grabbed his arm and he was too aware of the pebbled point of her nipple brushing against his bicep.
“I want―”
He put a finger over her lips, silencing her as he shook his head. “Baby, I know what you want, but I’m not playing that game.”
She slid her hand along the front of his jeans, stopping to squeeze hard and his cock reacted instantly and pushed against the heavy denim.
“I want you to fuck me, Chase,” she whispered, her gaze locked with his, the glint in her dark eyes a clear dare. “I think you want it, too.”
He smiled and let the predator in his nature emerge in his expression. More than one woman had backed off when his smile went dark and warning.
Cheyenne’s eyes widened, but she didn’t back down. Her chest rose and fell as her breaths quickened with obvious excitement.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Cheyenne,” he told her. “I don’t play nice.”
“Maybe I don’t want nice?” she said, uncertainty in her words.
He needed to push her away while he still had some control over the situation. He took the bottle she’d been clutching and tossed it aside, grabbed her ponytail and eased her head back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. Leaning in, he licked the smooth hollow at the base of her throat, smiling against her skin when the tang of sweetness and sweat touched his tongue. “You have no idea how tempting you are, Cheyenne, but I like my job here, so you have to go.”
She moved her head a bit, what her restricted freedom would allow. When she laughed, the whisper of her breath fanned across his skin. “I’m not going anywhere, Chase.”
“Yes, honey,” he paused, smiled, and finished, “you are.” He let go of her and stepped back, adjusting his jeans as he fought down his arousal. “I have work to do, and fucking you isn’t part of my job.”
Denysé Bridger
“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Predators & Editors Best Author 2012 **
Fantasy Pages (general):
Bound By Passion (adult content):

Heart of Stone (adult content)


Heart of Stone

By: Denyse Bridger | Other books by Denyse Bridger
Published By: New Dawning Bookfair
ISBN # 9781301788064

Word Count: 17600

Heat Index

Available in: Epub, Mobipocket (.mobi), Adobe Acrobat

add to cart

Read More

About the book
Randall Stone is the stuff of heroes, a mercenary given a discharge from the army he has served with his life. But the government is still interested in using the skills they’ve taught Major Rand Stone, and he continues to work with his hand-picked team. Into his shadowy world a light has come, and in her love, Stone discovers unhoped for joy, and, perhaps, unbearable sorrow?

An excerpt from the book

Rand reached for her and sat her astride his hips as he leaned back on the soft, warm grass. He pulled her down over him and into a kiss that left them shaking against each other.

Robin smiled, kissed him lightly, then eased back to gaze down at him. She tilted her head to one side, tugged at the waist of her T-shirt, and slowly eased it away from her skin and over her head to be tossed aside.

Rand’s hands quickly covered her bared breasts, strong fingers caressing firm flesh before his thumbs began brushing tantalizing circles around her nipples, making the already hard tips rigid with excitement.

Robin pressed herself tighter to him, her hips moving in seductive, rhythmic insistence while she leaned down and offered her breasts to his mouth. When his teeth closed over one aching nipple she moaned, lost in the well-known madness of Rand’s touch. The world spun as Rand’s arms encircled her waist and he changed their positions. Her legs parted to accommodate his weight and he thrust into her, the material of his pants straining against his erection. She arched in pleasure, her spine curling as he teased first one nipple then the other.

She raised her hips, pleading wordlessly, as her hands ran over the broad expanse of his back, smoothing tense muscles. She reached between them, her fingers tracing the ridge of his arousal, then moving lower, pressing with urgent abandon, inciting soft groans from him. She yanked at the snap on his pants, and he rolled away with a gasp.

Robin rose to her knees and shed her shorts, laughing when his eyebrow rose in faint surprise to see there was nothing beneath them. He’d left his T-shirt and boots near the edge of the water before he’d waded into the pool. All that remained were his dark pants and briefs, and she took them down the long length of his legs when he lifted his hips to give her the freedom to finish undressing him.

Robin’s gaze stroked every inch of him as she stared, and Rand’s blazing eyes held hers for indeterminate moments when she met his look directly. She moved again, and heard Rand’s breath leave him in a hiss of startled pleasure when her mouth closed over him with sudden, fierce pressure. His fingers twisted in the waves of her hair and he held her gently, slowing her sucking rhythm. At last, he eased her away and pulled her up to meet his kiss.

She drew back with a gasp, smiled at him, then sat up, tossing her hair over her shoulders. She guided him into her eager body. When sensation exploded through her, she bit her bottom lip and her back arched. Rand’s hands at her waist held her as he pushed deeper into her, and his name was a moan of elated pleasure that spilled from her lips without conscious awareness. For several moments she was motionless, enjoying the spasms of bliss that rushed through her veins.

When she finally began the slow, rocking rhythm that would sate their lust, Rand held her in place, hips rising to meet her with each thrust. Long minutes later, Robin cried out, shaking against him, her breathing strained and shallow. The convulsing muscles of her body pushed him over the edge and into his own shuddering climax.

When her breath returned, Robin leaned down to kiss him.

“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Preditors & Editors Best Author 2012-2013 **

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 55,960 other followers