Meet the members of Club Risqué and follow their D/s exploits as love worms its way into even the kinkiest hearts.
What is a psychologist supposed to do when a bruised and battered woman literally falls at his feet, unconscious, right outside the BDSM club where he is the manager? Micah Flynn is torn. He feels drawn to Melody and wants to protect her from the horror she has escaped from. The trouble is he’s well aware that he has a bit of a saviour complex and is not convinced about Melody’s motivation, either.Melody has been held in captivity for years. When she finally manages to escape, she offers herself to Micah as his slave because being a slave is the only thing she knows how to be. Haunted by his past, the last thing in the world Micah wants is a Master/slave relationship, but reluctantly, he takes on the role of Master, in name only, until Melody is able to think for herself and stand on her own two feet.
Melody’s feelings for Micah grow as he shows her the first true glimpses of human kindness and respect. The trouble is Micah insists that her feelings for him are simply born of gratitude and refuses her advances in the moral belief he would be taking advantage of her.
Is it possible for the two of them to make the transition from slave...to love? And what will happen if Melody’s captor discovers where she is?
Publisher's Note: This contemporary romance contains themes of power exchange and graphic scenes. If this is offensive to you, please do not read it.
Excerpt:
Melody wiped away the tears she realised she was crying with the pad of her palm, angry with herself for being so damn pitiful. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd been forced to endure things a hundred times worse than getting her feelings a little dented, for crying out loud. She needed to start counting her blessings instead of being so damned pathetic!
Of course, it was just her luck that Micah chose the exact moment when she was wallowing in her own self-pity to retire for the night. Yeah, sod's flippin' law!
Melody tried to extract herself as unobtrusively as she could without drawing any attention to herself, but she should have known better. Micah was far too astute to let anything go.
"Hey, are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked, noticing her red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. "The events of the day have finally caught up with you, I guess? Why don't I make you a nice relaxing cup of herbal tea, to settle you for the night?"
Melody was feeling unaccountably contrary and, somehow, his sympathy and consideration just made her feel even more pissy. "I'm just dandy, thanks, and I don't want any damn tea!" she snapped, jumping up from the sofa and flicking the blanket that she'd been wrapped in sharply before she started folding it with abrupt, jerky movements.
Micah eyed her with endless patience, which only served to ratchet up her already strung out nerves even tighter.
"How about some hot milk instead?" he asked kindly. Except 'kind' wasn't what she wanted from him.
"No!" she bit out sharply. "I do not want any hot flippin' milk, either!" She punctuated her words by throwing down the folded blanket onto the sofa and only just stopped short of stamping her foot.
Micah just gazed at her quietly with those gorgeous, melted chocolate eyes with one eyebrow cocked.
Jesus, what was wrong with her? After everything he'd done for her, she was behaving like a spoiled child having a tantrum.
"It sounds like someone's cruising for a spanking," he said with deceptive calm, standing there all relaxed with his thumbs hooked casually through his belt loops.
"Yeah? Well, there's no one here to give me one, is there?" Melody retorted shortly, whirling around and flouncing toward the door, cringing on the inside even as the catty words kept pouring out of her mouth. Her self-preservation instinct was intact, at least, and it was telling her to get out of there before she ruined things between them completely.
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Author Bio and Links
Poppy Flynn was born in Buckinghamshire, UK and moved to Wales at eight years old with parents who wanted to live the 'self-sufficiency' lifestyle.
Today she still lives in rural Wales and is married with six children.
Poppy's love of reading and writing stemmed from her parents’ encouragement and the fact that they didn't have a television in the house.
"When you're surrounded by fields, cows and sheep, no neighbours, no TV and the closest tiny village is four miles away, there's a certain limit to your options, but with books your adventures and your horizons are endless."
Poppy x
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