My m/m spin on the Robin Hood legend is out now!
Lord of the Forest by Kay Berrisford. Genre: m/m, fantasy and paranormal with some BDSM and fetish elements. Novel length (60k). Published by Loose Id. Art by Anne Cain.
Blurb: England, 1217. Dark forces are rising. In the Greenwood, foul spirits grow powerful, and greedy barons plunder the lands. Only one man dares fight back—Robin Hood.
Robin’s band of brothers is broken. Now a lone warrior, he denies his famous name and laments the friends and lovers he’s lost. When the fair folk capture Cal, a beautiful young forester descended from the Greenwood’s ancient protectors, Robin rescues him and forges a new alliance.
Despite a sizzling attraction, Robin senses Cal isn’t like his old comrades, and he’s right. Cal’s been raised as a royal spy. He plans to seduce and betray Robin, but can’t harm the man he’s falling hard for. Mistrust and arguments spill into passionate lovemaking, as Cal learns the meaning of loyalty, fighting beside Robin, the only friend he’s ever known. Even the enchanted forest seeks to bind Robin and the returned protector ever tighter.
Their connection will be tested by nature’s wildest forces, Robin’s past, Cal’s lies, and in a baron’s darkest dungeon. To survive, Robin and Cal must admit their love and embrace their true destinies. Only then can they save England and each other—and win their happiness ever after.
Had Daniel died hating him? Robin felt numb inside.
Cal touched his knee. “I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”
Robin couldn’t help but take comfort in Cal’s presence. It had been too long since he’d sat and talked with another man like this.
“But does devotion play no part?” asked the forester. “That connection between two souls when their eyes meet and their bodies touch. When they make love and know there can never be another.”
Robin gave no answer, because he had none. He’d never formed such an unbreakable bond, and he must end this charade now.
Instead he remained still as a statue, his throat dry. He stared into Cal’s eyes, striving to read more than the flicker of reflected firelight, and discerned no more or less than the reflection of his soul. A furnace of loneliness, pain, and desire blazed there. Hope tugged at his heart.
Could this be real? After so long alone, could my endless prayers for someone to hold have been answered?
He reached for Cal, tentative as if the forester were a sprite of moonbeams that would disintegrate beneath his touch. Swift as a pouncing wolf, Cal took Robin’s face in his hands and pressed his mouth to Robin’s.
Hot flesh brushed flesh, the contact gentle and moist and sending a bolt of fire straight to Robin’s cock. Caution shouted in the back of his brain but proved no use. Cal tasted of warm chestnuts, soft and sublime. The lad licked the seam of Robin’s mouth, and madness seized him. He parted his lips, grabbed Cal’s silky hair, and intensified the kiss. Cal moaned into Robin’s throat and drifted a hand up his thigh, setting his skin aflame and his prick stiffening.
In truth, Robin had rarely kissed before, not like this. With his men, he’d fumble and joke, then see straight to the business of their needy cocks. Now he enfolded Cal in his arms, pulling him closer, mindful of the lad’s injury. Cal worked his mouth slickly and sweetly, unleashing waves of feral passion that washed through Robin like a flood. He reveled in the union of flesh against flesh, the rising heat in his shaft, which Cal stroked so roughly it wept. Cal straddled him, scrubbing his burgeoning erection against the bared flesh of Robin’s thigh. Damn, Robin wanted to fuck him.
And he’d fall straight into a forester’s honeyed trap.
He broke the kiss and pushed the forester away. Cal whined, lust steeping his snatched breaths.
“That,” said Robin, “is not love either. For my part, it’s a lonely man being a fool. For your part…” He neither knew what accusation to make nor truly wished to say it.
Click on the banners to find out more!
Come and join the new year’s fun and win a load more prizes — including another chance to win your choice of my back catalogue at my new year’s kisses party! Find out more.
I’ve been sharing my lovers’ first kisses from my recent releases, including my new festive story, Simon, Sex, and the Solstice Stone (recently released for NOOK) and Brien and Scarlet’s first kiss from Bound for the Forest. Today, it’s the turn of Denny and Kit!
He was supposed to trap him—not fall in love.
Blurb: When government agent and Ethereal Being hunter, Denny, has to imprison an elf in his garage overnight, his life spins out of control. Caught and cuffed on the London Underground, Kit shatters everything Denny’s been taught about elves. How can Kit be a dangerous, mind-reading cipher who preys on human emotions? Kit’s gorgeous and funny, he’s got a cute arse. He even shares Denny’s quiet kinks for bondage and cross-dressing. Or so Kit claims.
When Kit wiles his way into Denny’s house for a session of mind-blowing sex, the elf seems too good to be true–till reality strikes. Denny’s fucked an elf. A prisoner in his charge. If he doesn’t take Kit to the containment depot he’s in big trouble, and Kit’s about to drop an equally devastating bombshell. The elf’s been searching a thousand years for a bloke like Denny. He ‘gets’ Denny’s kinks, adores role play and women’s panties, and now he needs Denny’s love to survive.
Is Kit preying on Denny’s emotions, or can Denny trust him? If so, dare Denny break the law and gamble his life to save the Ethereal Being in his bed?”
Kit rose onto tiptoes, lifted his chin, and it seemed electricity arced between them. Delicately he brushed Denny’s mouth with his own. The elf tasted of wine, cheese sauce, and something heady and enticing that might have been the spices. Or might just have been Kit. Whatever it was, Denny needed more.
He grabbed Kit by the collar and kissed him hard.
The plates on the drainer behind them chinked. Kit parted his lips and slid his tongue into Denny’s mouth, deepening the kiss, apparently relishing the scrub of Denny’s stubble against his. In perfect rhythm, the elf rubbed his groin against Denny’s thigh until Denny felt the ultimate proof that elves were sexual beings. Kit’s raging erection told Denny they were both equally aroused.
And the elf read his every need like a book.
Through Denny’s tight T-shirt, Kit toyed with his nipple, flicking the ring, pressing the cool metal into his sweat-flecked skin. Currents of molten pleasure coursed from Denny’s chest to his cock.
Denny broke the kiss. “This is so bloody wrong.”
“Really?” Without warning, Kit shoved the tips of his fingers down the back of Denny’s trousers and tugged the waistband of the leather briefs. The elf yelped with delight. “Is it any more wrong than a gorgeous great alpha like you wearing these to go out arresting folk in?”
Denny bit back a laugh. His current underpants were fairly restrained, by his standards. It would feel incorrect wearing anything more interesting to work. “You like ’em?”
“I love ’em.” Kit emphasized his words with a feral snarl. “God, I adore a man in leather. So…nnnng. So damn sexy.”
Kit stroked Denny’s arse cheeks, pressing harder with every lust-ridden syllable and making his cock throb like hell. After a final squeeze of Denny’s backside, Kit threw his arms around Denny’s neck and leaped at him.
As Denny caught him, the crockery clunked even louder. Kit wrapped his legs around Denny’s hips, stretching the seams of those scruffy trousers to the limit. Denny cradled Kit’s arse in his hands, pressing his lips to the elf’s once more. He’d been mind-fucked, and he no longer cared. He needed to get laid, right here, right now, with this EB.
Remember to comment here or enter the TRS Party draw to win this title, or your choice of my entire back catalogue!
I’ve been sharing my lovers’ first kisses from my recent releases, including my new festive story, Simon, Sex, and the Solstice Stone (recently released for NOOK) and Brien and Scarlet’s first kiss from Bound for the Forest. Today, it’s the turn of my second Greenwood novel, Bound to the Beast.
England, 1588. When a fairy betrothal ritual goes wrong, village lad Tam is bonded to Herne the Hunter. Warrior, legend, and Greenwood spirit, Herne once led the terrifying Wild Hunt, an army of the undead who rode as harbingers of doom. When his passions are stirred and his blood is up, Herne sports the antlers of a mighty stag.
Herne could be the lover Tam secretly craves, but Herne’s past makes him fear the brooding warrior will enslave or kill him. While Herne admires Tam’s toughness and humor, he has rejected love—as he has sworn off leading the Wild Hunt—and wishes only for solitude. To break their betrothal, they must travel into the Greenwood, a realm of magic and bondage where their desires for each other grow dangerously irresistible, and the Wild Hunt bays for their blood.
As the threat rises, Herne’s mastery and compassion realize Tam’s darkest sexual fantasies. Soon he’s no longer fighting for his freedom, wishing to be bound to the beast forever. But can Herne’s tortured heart be reawakened? And if so, will their love destroy them both, or prove Herne the Hunter’s greatest weapon?
Genres: m/m, Historical, Fantasy, Paranormal, BDSM. Art work by Anne Cain.
Excerpt from Bound to the Beast
A roar shattered through the clearing, obliterating Tam’s final words and setting the green fire spurring. A dark figure of a man—no, surely this being was too large to be a man—reared through the flames, picked up Calleagh as if she weighed no more than a kitten, and tossed her from the circle. Then he rounded on Tam.
Moonshine glimmered on the newcomer’s bold features that contorted with fury, his square jaw shadowed with beard. Tam had felt tall amid the fairy company, but this goliath had him edging backward, feeling small.
Tam grabbed at his sagging breeches, tightening the laces before they descended about his ankles. The newcomer’s gaze impaled him, making him shudder as if he’d been stripped entirely. The great man’s brow was broad, and from his wild mane surged a pair of enormous antlers split into many twisting branches, each flashing like ivory blades. Tam’s passions raced, his every sinew stiffening where just moments ago he had labored halfheartedly beneath Calleagh’s touch, and terror crippled him.
He knew this beast.
He may never have seen him before in his waking life, but Tam faced a legend among Greenwood spirits, one who could truly make him suffer for his mistake.
“Herne the Hunter?”
Herne narrowed his midnight-blue eyes, fury smoldering, and thrill vied with Tam’s dread. Herne’s thighs were as solid as the oaks framing the dell, while the laces fastening his sleeveless surcoat drew tight to contain the mass of his shoulders and chest. Tam urged his feet to carry him away, even if the ring of fire scalded him, but too late. Herne grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him so hard his head ached.
“Are you the reason I have been called? Did you trick her into wedding you?”
“I take nobody against their will,” shouted Tam, doing his best to sound brave. He stared awestruck at the man’s antlers. “You…you had no right to interrupt us. You do not understand.”
Herne leaned over him, sniffing his hair like a cat would a rat to determine whether it was fit to eat. “Honey and spice. You reek of vanity, boy. Stealing a fairy maid from her family is the cruelest act of all.”
“I didn’t steal anyone. She wanted me.”
Tam wriggled but couldn’t break free. Herne clamped his wrists, holding them fast. Nausea rolled though Tam. Was this part of a trap laid by Calleagh and her sisters? Before God, he’d heard enough of the wiles of fairy folk, and Herne possessed the strength to rip his limbs off and see his blood drain for the foul spirits of Niogaerst. Or would Herne impale him on those frightful antlers? Maybe that had been Calleagh’s true sport all along.
Desperation cracked his voice. “I’m the one who’s been tricked. Yes, that’s it, tricked! Please. Let me go, sir.”
Herne tilted his head, confusion passing over his hard features. “Do I…know you?”
The relentless emerald flames pressed them closer, Herne’s tightening grip prompting so many fuddling sensations that words failed him. His mind demanded he kick the beast in his balls and make a run for it, but once again his body refused to obey. He stared up at Herne’s smoldering eyes, his skin weather-beaten and browned yet marked only by the finest of lines. A further revelation struck.
Now I understand the true meaning of beauty.
Herne growled, pulled Tam to him so their bodies pressed flush, and smoothed his thumb along the line of Tam’s cheekbone. Tam flinched as if he’d been branded with an iron, yet the contact sent blood coursing through his veins and rushing straight to his loins.
When Herne’s mouth claimed his, Tam yearned to be dominated, to be consumed in his flames like a helpless moth. He parted his lips, letting Herne devour him, balling his fists into the leather of Herne’s surcoat to urge him on, and relishing the scrape of Herne’s coarse beard against his chin. Herne tasted of herbs and the verdant depths of the forest. Amid the rage of life, Tam sensed also the stillness of rock, the brute strength of ages, and savage, tearing pain.
He kissed back, his tongue slick against Herne’s, letting the passion of their union quash the remnants of his alarm. If this was the means by which Herne punished him, then he would not resist a jot. He did not even care if the man kissing him bore the antlers of a stag or the cleaved hooves of the devil. Not when Herne cupped Tam’s arse with his massive hands, dug in his fingers, and squeezed so hard his flesh sang. Tam’s arousal jutted against Herne’s thigh, and—oh sweet spirits—Herne’s huge cock pressed into Tam’s tight belly, setting him awhirl with desire.
Herne tore his lips away from Tam’s as quickly as he had claimed them. Tam gazed up into his dark blue eyes, reading boundless suffering, insatiable yearning—and a glimmer of reflected gray light, too dull to be moon or enchanted flame. Indeed, both moon and flame had fallen away. The first light of morning crept from the easterly edges of the dell.
Herne relinquished Tam from his embrace. Still trembling in the aftermath of the kiss, Tam stumbled back, but not far. The green ribbon that he’d tied about his wrist now entwined Herne’s too, binding them together, and it stopped him short.
He stared anew at Herne the Hunter, who appeared equally perplexed by the ribbon pulled taut between them. He looked at Herne’s huge, ragged antlers. His awareness of everything that had happened prior to their kiss trickled back, and a sickening realization overthrew his desire. The question escaped his lips before he comprehended its full horror.
“You kissed me and bound me to you in the circle of fire before dawn. Does that not make you and I…betrothed?”