Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Book Barrage for Bayou Magiste Series plus Giveaway and Excerpts.

Claimed by the Devil (Bayou Magiste Chronicles 1) 


Helene Gaudet finds the perfect Dom in an internet chat room. It’s as if he can read her mind – and he knows how to make her beg. When they agree to meet in the real world, Helene realizes why her Dom knows her so well – he is none other than Devlin Marchand, the same man who handed her over years ago to a dark sorcerer – to be killed.
She thought she was free from suffering – including a rageful ex-husband who cursed her, leaving her unable to bear children. She wants to forget the past – but her lust for Devlin is so intense after each tormenting, releasing encounter, she doesn't want to leave him.
Devlin wants to repair his past wrongs – but guilt over his past betrayal is multiplied when he learns the curse that has dogged Helene for years comes from the trove of magic created by his very own family. Devlin fears the tentative relationship they've built will be destroyed – and he cannot allow that.
Can they overcome the past to have a future together?

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Devlin stared at his father.  The older man couldn't be serious.
"Devlin, you must complete the task."  Maximilian Marchand's angry voice rang out in the room as he came out from behind the massive oak desk.  "This Saturday evening.  DeGarza has an event planned, and it is imperative Helene Gaudet be present."
Devlin shook his head.  He couldn't do it, couldn't turn her over to DeGarza, the psychotic fool his father blindly followed. 
"No, he's wrong.  She's not ... he's wasting his time."
"And why is that, young Marchand?"
The voice behind him slid over Devlin like ice, chilling his soul.  His stomach churned. 
"Sir, she's not as powerful as you think; she's merely a Creole, born of the Bayou."
Would the lie work?  While not as strong or gifted as a Sorceress, Helene's magical talents bordered on amazing.  An Enchantress possessing such robust powers, while not rare, did not go unnoticed.  The Tribunal who ruled the Magiste community kept a very close watch on all of its citizens and their level of magical skill. 
"Yes, but her powers are quite strong for someone so young."  DeGarza approached, his height imposing, his narrow face cold and hard.  "Her youth alone makes her magic so much more potent.  It's a shame for it to be wasted on Swamp Sludge."
DeGarza stopped right before Devlin.  Devlin forced himself not to react to the vile name the man used to describe Helene.  The effort to remain calm could possibly the most difficult thing Devlin had ever done since being forced to serve this madman.  But he couldn't obey this order.  The idea of Helene at the mercy of a monster such as DeGarza sickened him, even more than his own fear of the Sorcerer.
"You want her, don't you?  For yourself." 
The knowing look on the evil man's face spurred a panic Devlin hadn't felt in years.  He held his tongue.  Yes, he wanted Helene Gaudet, had wanted her ever since he'd seen her last year at the Mardi Gras ball, escorted by one of his classmates.  He wanted her to submit to him, wanted to play with her luscious body and make her scream his name with passion and pleasure.  He'd never told anyone.
"If I claimed her, sir, I could control her.  She would be bound to serve you." 
He prayed his promise would be enough to convince the insane, power-hungry, sorcerer to back off.
"And how would you do that?"
Devlin racked his brain, trying to recall more about the custom that popped into his head.  He'd never given it much thought before, but the idea took hold, and he could imagine her beside him here, in his home, in his bed.  He lifted his chin, determination renewed.  While rarely executed, the ritual was binding and legal.  She would be his.  And he could protect her.
"There's the Possede Puissant.  She wouldn't be able to refuse my orders once she belonged to me.  Her power would still be yours to control."
DeGarza stroked his chin thoughtfully.  He focused his black, menacing stare on Devlin again. 
"No.  I must own them, combine them with mine.  The only way to do it properly is to use the Remouvoir.  Bring her to me before Saturday.  You may go."
Devlin thought his legs might collapse beneath him, the spark of hope all but extinguished.  Yet, a glimmer remained, his mind racing with ways to stop the unthinkable from happening.  He slowly turned to the door, but his father's voice stopped him.
"Devlin, she is not worthy of you.  If Mr. DeGarza had been kind enough to grant your wish, I would have killed her myself.  Either way, you cannot save her.  Do not try to do so again."
Devlin swallowed the acid rising in his throat and nodded.  How in the world could he surrender Helene to be killed?  He had to find some way out of this.
"Young Marchand."  DeGarza's shout stopped him once again.
"Yes, sir?"
"If you fail, I will have to find another subject.  Your father has agreed that your mother will take Ms.  Gaudet's place should you be unsuccessful."
How Devlin remained standing, he didn't know.  His mother?  And his father had ... he glanced at the other man's impassive expression and hated him for everything he'd put them through, since aligning himself with DeGarza.
"How could you?"  He didn't even try to keep the disgust from his tone, releasing years of resentment.
Maximilian shrugged.  "To achieve our means, we must at times make sacrifices.  You're lucky, Devlin; you have a choice.  Be sure you make the right one."
His father knew Devlin would do anything to protect his mother.  That must be why he'd agreed to this madness.  He knew Devlin wouldn't let his mother face the same fate as so many others.  But handing over Helene would damn Devlin forever, while not turning her over would damn his mother to a torturous and prolonged death.  God, he'd always thought once he turned eighteen, he would be free, but a year later, he remained trapped.  And the situation had grown worse than he'd ever imagined.
He finally made his way out of his father's office, struggling to contain his lurching stomach.  There had to be some way he could stop this, save them both.  But how?
He had to warn Helene, get her to leave town.  Then he'd have to get his mother to safety.  First Helene.  If he could convince her to go, then he'd have a few days to figure a way to get his mother away from here as well.
Helene worked in a café in the Quarter.  What was the name of it again?  He headed toward Jackson Square.  Saving her might get him killed but he had no choice.

Claimed by the Mage (Bayou Magiste Chronicle 2) 


Lily Prentiss wishes she could ignore her inborn healing magic so she can live life on her terms, not follow the path her Magiste family chose for her. But when she stumbles across Aidan Marchand in the excruciating throes of evolving into a Mage, her touch is all that stops his pain and she can no longer deny her powers. When the sexy Dom seduces her into willing submission, she finds she doesn’t want to resist and actually enjoys giving up control.

Aidan has more to worry about than just his rapidly maturing powers – his business partner is blackmailing him into funding a venture that involves kidnapping young girls both magical and mortal, and selling them as sex slaves. Even as Lily’s touch eases Aidan's pain, he knows staying with her puts her in danger from his enemies. But the gift of her sexual submission helps him even more than her healing magic...so how can he let her go?

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Available at Amazon: 


Lily walked along the deserted street, wishing she'd left the bar earlier with her friends.  Why did the wrong sort of man always attract her?  Each time she let one get close, he hurt her in some way, proving her judgment had not gotten any better.  Like tonight.  Corey had sworn he wanted only her.  So why had she found him with his tongue down another woman's throat when she walked into the bar?  His insistence the woman had mauled him rang hollow and she'd grabbed the drink of the closest patron and thrown it in his face.
No more.  She was done with men.  They were nothing but trouble.
Now, here it was long after midnight and she found herself alone.  Again.  Even Chartres Street lay dead silent and empty, unusual for a party town like New Orleans on a Saturday night.  The faint sounds of Bourbon Street bars, the odd mix of jazz, blues, and rock and roll, punctuated by drunken shouts and catcalls, faded as she approached Jackson Square.
The park, a favorite place to hang out during her teenage years, seemed eerily deserted.  She’d timed her arrival here perfectly, so no one would see tear-streaked makeup.  Or witness her sorrow.
For a moment, Lily longed to go home to her parents and cry to her mother, to listen to the older woman’s advice and comforting words as she had during her horrific teenage years.  She shook her head.  She’d cut those ties but good a long time ago.  Her mother no longer offered the haven of reassurance she once had.  Regret still burned in Lily’s gut, but she would prove to all of them she could survive without magic.  Her job skills served her well, and she didn’t need magic to achieve what she’d accomplished in the last three years. 
If only her family could be proud of her.  Why couldn't they ever see her as worthy?  Her parents' success had set the bar too high for her to live up to, no matter what she did.  An impossible goal to strive for.  Lily sighed and kicked the air, wishing she had something more satisfactory as a target.  Her doubts in herself always came back to her parents' unreasonable expectations, always when she —
Something stabbed her.  A knife twisted in her side, ripping her apart.  She sucked in a panicked breath and looked down.  No blood.  The pain suddenly stopped.  Then slammed into her again.  She doubled over, her stomach heaving.
An agonyfilled groan sliced through the humid night.  Who was that?  She looked around.  No one.  She gave herself another visual inspection.  No wounds appeared on her body even though the stabbing started again. 
Strangely, the pain didn't come from outside.  Even though she truly felt as if she'd been ripped open, no physical wound had been inflicted on her.  Could this all be in her mind?  Mon Dieu, what could it be?  She wanted to scream against the noise resonating in her head, each throb like crashing cymbals inside her brain.  She couldn’t be imagining this agony; it hurt too much.  What the fuck caused it?
Another twist of scalding agony hit her, this time racing along her spine.  She cried out, falling to her knees.  She pressed her hand against her mouth to muffle the scream.  What was happening?  She could barely see through the suffocating distress.
More cries and moans echoed in the darkness.  Where did they come from?  She looked around again.  There.  Behind the statue of Jackson.  She sucked in air and forced herself to stand on shaky legs.  Each halting step jarred, each rasping breath scorched as she inched closer to the statue.  She leaned heavily against the stone and panted.  The soreness in her side receded a little, and she crept around the monument.
The man lay huddled on the ground, curled in a fetal position.  She focused her attention on him, forced herself to ignore the agony, although the pain had changed, felt different, less intense and overpowering.  The man continued whimpering, the sounds hoarse.  Lily crawled closer, each movement slow and careful, so as not to startle him.  He gave another rough shout and Lily froze momentarily before creeping a bit closer.  The man clutched his head, gave a violent shudder and cried out again.  The sound sent chills racing across Lily's flesh.
After a brief hesitation, she knelt beside him.  She tentatively reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.  He writhed, obviously in pain, but the instant she touched him, he calmed.  Her fingers tingled where they came in contact with him; not a painful sensation, but rather like a burst of energy that coursed through her, flowing from her into him like an electric current.
His violent movements slowly stilled.  He turned to her and opened his eyes.  She froze, pinned by his silvery gaze.
Aidan Marchand.
It had been years since she’d seen him, even longer since she’d exchanged more than a word or two with him.  Her godmother, Helene’s, stepson.  She’d barely known him; he'd been a few years ahead of her in school.  But she'd been well aware of him – she'd harbored a crush on him like every other girl in the school did at one time or another.  Lily's minor obsession with the school's star athlete hadn't lasted very long.
What was wrong with him?  Had he been cursed?  She needed to get him some help.
She drew her hand away, and he immediately cried out, his body wracked once more with shudders.  The sharp stabbing started again in her side, fiercer than before.  She bent over, seeking some way to ease her discomfort.  He reached for her, and before she could back away, he grabbed her wrist.  Even in the throes of whatever madness held him, his grip remained strong, too strong to break.  But he calmed once more.
"Don’t let go."
She barely understood his slurred words.  "Wh-what?"
"You’re a Healer.  Don’t let go."
"I ... but …. "
She couldn’t break free if she tried.  He was right.  She possessed the gift of healing.  Apparently, she could no longer deny her ability.  At least not now; at least not to him.
"I don’t know what to do." The whine in her voice betrayed her panic.
"It’s ... okay.  J-just ... don’t let go."
His panting plea tore at her.  Tears burned her eyes.  Why did his entreaty tear at her heart so intensely? 
"I can’t help you.  Let me find someone who can."
"No!" His grip tightened.  "Just … stay here.  For a minute."
Lily fought against the roll of her stomach. 
"But I haven’t had any training and I don’t know what’s wrong with you."
He wheezed for a few moments, his gaze locking on hers.  The rest of the world seemed to fade away as his power swelled, sliding right out of him and into her, melding with the energy still tingling in her fingers.  Oh, dear God! Impossible.  But the signs made it clear.
He was a Mage.  She’d heard of this.  Sometime after Mages reached physical maturity, usually within ten years, their full powers blossomed.  Mystery surrounded the difficult and painful event.  He must be in the middle of Il Relache now.  She tried to recall what she knew about him.  What she knew about Mages in general.  Next to nothing.  Something still seemed wrong.  Mages were rarely kept secret by the Magiste, their incredible power requiring a registry to track and regulate them, train them properly to use their powers.  Unless ... could it be possible he didn’t know?
She shook her head, trying to pull her hand back, but couldn’t break his grip.  She had no experience with this.
"Please, I might make it worse.  Let me summon someone for you."
"Fine.  Call someone.  But you’re not leaving."
Despite the command in the words, his soft and pleading voice told her how weakened he'd become.  Another sharp burn sliced along her spine.  She cried out at the same time Aidan screamed in agony.  Only then did she understand what she felt was merely a shadow of what coursed through him.  Mon Dieu! If she experienced but an echo of what he endured, he must feel as though his insides boiled. 
She couldn’t leave him, not like this, even though warnings exploded in her mind.  She ignored them.  Worrying about herself now would do no good; in fact, it might cause harm.  Unacceptable.  She had to help him.  But how?  She had no means of properly channeling her magic, had no training in harnessing her skill.
"I ... I don’t have my amulet.  I ... stopped using it a while ago."
Aidan groaned, clutching at his head with his free hand. 
"Use mine.  You only need to touch it.  It’ll work for you."
Lily stared at the hand still wrapped tightly around her wrist.  He wore the standard ring, cut from thick gold, his stone a fiery topaz.  She hesitated, meeting his gaze once more.
He nodded.  "Go ahead."
His words ended on an agonizing moan.  He shuddered.  A wave of hurt washed over them both.  Mon Dieu, how could he still be conscious under the weight of so much pain?
"I ... there’s a Portal near here.  I can get us to it.  But you have to help me."
She wished for a moment she'd mastered the art of Teleporting, but even if she had, her condo resided outside the average limit of 250 yards most Magiste were capable of traveling without the aid of a Portal.
With a tightly clenched jaw, he clung to her wrist as he struggled to his knees.  Did he think she would break free and abandon him?  His other arm came around her shoulders, and he leaned heavily on her, his weight threatening to knock her over.
"Can you stand?" She wrapped an arm around his waist.  "Let go of my wrist; I promise I won’t leave."
He nodded and gave another muffled cry.  Slowly, shakily, he lifted his hand.  She laid her fingers over his.  The stone warmed rapidly beneath her touch.  Closing her eyes, she willed them both to the nearest alley Portal.  In the next instant, she opened her eyes and sighed.  The arch glowed against the old, crumbling brick.  She’d done it.  Staggering under his weight, she dragged them both through the Portal.  On the other side, they fell to the floor of her condo living room.
He landed half atop her, pinning her to the floor.  The hard wood bruised her back as he pressed her into it, his face buried in her neck.  Despite the discomfort, his nearness sparked an awareness she hadn’t felt in a long time.  Maybe not ever.  She turned and found him looking at her with shivering intensity.  Every muscle tightened in response, and she drew an unsteady breath.  It didn’t help settle the sudden desire upending her senses.  What was wrong with her?  How could she possibly be registering a physical attraction to him while in the middle of this bizarre situation?
Shaking her head, she gathered her frayed wits and shoved at his shoulders.  Weak and unresisting, he rolled to his back on the floor.  She leaned over him, one hand resting on his chest, the urge to touch him too strong to resist.  His heart thumped wildly beneath her fingers. 
"What do you need?"
He merely stared, before his eyes rolled up, then closed and he went limp.
Mouth dry, she leaned back.  The ghost of his pain had faded, and breathing came easier.  Was he dead?  Her stomach lurched at the thought.  She placed her head to his chest.  Underneath her ear, his heart still pounded, but his breath came in short, shallow spurts.  What could she do?

Claimed by the Enchanter (Bayou Magiste Chronicles 3) 


Regine Marchand loves being in control – and the role of domme is the perfect way for her to exert that control. An accomplished equestrian, she has her goals of championship in sight and no one will get in her way. Her life and future are in her hands, she doesn’t need to depend on anyone for success and happiness.
Cameron McIntyre is fascinated by the cool façade Regine displays, but senses the depth of passion lurking under her surface. Despite her protests to the contrary, he recognizes in her a desire to submit and be dominated. But when he is forced to suspend her from competition due to performance enhancement spells used on her horse, he worries he may drive her away, instead of into his arms. Believing her innocent of the charges, he vows to help her uncover who set her up while convincing her that submission to him is what she truly wants and needs. Submitting to the tall Irishman brings a new level of pleasure Regine has never known, at the same time making her question everything she knew about herself.
Regine is unaware an enemy from her past has targeted her for revenge. Together she and Cameron must discover who wants to knock her out of competition for good, possibly killing her in the process. 

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Reggie wanted to scream with frustration while she walked her horse around the ring to cool him down.  Since seeing the dom from Chicago in the café the other day, he'd never left her thoughts.  The constant image of his face, the smirk when he lifted his glass, wreaked havoc with her focus and she'd nearly been tossed out of the saddle several times.  Clearly, Valhalla sensed her distraction and took full advantage, refusing several jumps and generally being ornery anytime she asked for more effort.
Blaming the andromulois was an easy excuse, but any effects from the plant had long since been eradicated.  She reined him in and dismounted near the gate.  David waited as she walked out of the ring.
"What's the matter today?"  the trainer paused.  "You're off.  Two days before we leave for Dallas, and you can't make him do anything you want."
Reggie shrugged.  "I don’t know.  I can't seem to concentrate today."
"Maybe you need a break.  You haven't stopped in months, and with Valhalla's rash caused by the andromulois, it would be a good time to take the next couple days off.  To make sure you're both in top form when we get to Dallas."
She nodded, thinking maybe a day off would help clear her mind.   She led Valhalla to the barn and unsaddled him, and began her grooming routine.  David said nothing as he assisted, though she felt his curious gaze on her several times.  After she secured the gelding in his stall, she folded her arms and turned to her trainer.
"Just wondering if that guy from Chicago is the one causing your distraction."
Heat flooded her cheeks.  Damn David for being so perceptive.   "And if he was?"
"I did a little checking.  I know who he is."
Her heart raced with excitement and her stomach fluttered with anticipatory nerves.  "Who is he?"
David chuckled.  "Damn, woman, I've never seen you like this.  Miss Ice Princess herself getting all hot and bothered by a stranger.  Never thought I'd see the day."
She turned and narrowed her eyes, pointing a long finger at his face.  "David Marquez, you may be my trainer, and a close friend and sometimes play partner … But you're dangerously close to crossing a line right now.  Tell me who the hell he is."
Another laugh and David held up his hands in mock surrender.  "All right, all right.  His name is Cameron McIntyre.  He rode for years on the European circuit.  Was at or near the top of the standings for most of his career.  Took the Grand Champion trophy a whole ton of times."
"How come I've never heard of him?
"You never rode the European circuit."
"Yes, but someone like that … guess I was so wrapped up in my own performance, I never paid attention.  So why's he here?  In the US, I mean."
David shrugged.  "Heard he bought a property not too far from here.  He's planning a breeding farm, supposedly.  And he is Magiste."
"I know."  Reggie pondered this news.  Interesting.  She should pay more attention to the international standings, but her focus, until recently, had solely been on her and Valhalla's performance, her own standings, and the potential to finally reach the pinnacle of equestrian three-day-eventing on the Magiste circuit in the United States.  She'd worked for this since she was a little girl, her love of horses and competitive streak combining to make her one of the best on the junior circuit.  She finally stood poised to finish at the top of the professional eventing world and now she developed an unhealthy obsession for a man way too arrogant for his own good?  Merde!
She wanted to scream it out loud, but didn't, knowing David would only use it as more fuel for his teasing.  He'd better be careful if she decided to get even.  She toyed with the idea of threatening him with punishment, but refrained.  Such a strong reaction might reveal more than she wanted David to figure out.
She sighed.  Even though he played the role of her sub when she needed to engage in some sexual play, he understood her probably better than anyone else.
She conceded that wasn't by much, since she controlled her emotions around him as tightly as around anyone else.  Nevertheless, he'd always been sexually attracted to her and until a week ago, she'd felt the same.  The fact he trained her and Valhalla had never seemed to be a problem.  Oddly, now it seemed a conflict of interest, and she had no desire to continue that aspect of their relationship.  How to tell him?
"Reggie?  Are you listening?"
His voice cut into her thoughts and she realized, with more than a twinge of guilt, he'd been talking and she hadn't heard one word.
"I'm sorry, Dave.  I'm a bit unfocused today."
"Tell me about it.  Look, you take today and tomorrow off.  Do what you need to get your head back in the right place.  After Dallas, we'll be in a good position.  We have some time before Tampa and we'll figure out the rest of our strategy then.  And then you can go run wild like a rabid bitch in heat during mating season and scratch the itch under your skin."
"How dare you!  You do realize what you're setting yourself up for."  Despite herself, she laughed.
David's grin faded.  "Reg, you want nothing to do with me anymore.  Not sexually, anyway.  I noticed it in Chicago.  It hasn't changed since we got back.  Besides, first and foremost, I am your trainer.  My job, the one you pay me to do, is to get you to the top.  The rest? It's icing and I'm not really much for sweets anymore."
She didn't know what to say.  She'd never used her role in their off-time games to her advantage while they worked, but now he seemed to be taking away that portion of their relationship.  And even though she'd harbored similar thoughts moments ago, she suddenly found herself angry at Cameron McIntyre.  Again.  For altering her universe, when she didn't want or expect it.  She gave a resigned nod.
"You might have a point.  I just … I just need to get past this distraction.  If I can find out why it's so … invasive, then maybe I can trash it, once and for all."  A wisp of a notion sprouted.  She gave David a grin.  "And I may have an idea."
"Just be ready to take the whole thing in Dallas, it's all I ask."
"Don't you worry.  You and I are going all the way to number one.  Nothing, and nobody, is going to get in my way!"

Author Bio:

I'm a born-and-bred Jersey Girl, with Brooklyn roots, and I still live where it all started. I married my very own alpha male many eons ago, and am a former full-time working mom to two school-age children. Needless to say, free time is always at a premium, and I spend the bulk of it lost in the worlds of my own making. I love to read and write hot sexy and emotional stories about people both glamorous and not-so-glamorous. And some of them are even downright un-heroic at times, which is part of what makes them so sexy, in my opinion!
On those rare occasions when I am not writing, you can catch me playing in my other favorite alternate worlds of Highlander, Harry Potter, Charmed, and DragonBall Z! Yes, I know, an odd combo, but they all feature some of the sexiest villains ever. I'm also a HUGE fan of the NY Rangers, Criminal Minds, Vikings and All My Children – I am thrilled AMC has returned.
My books, which usually involve BDSM themes, and range from historical to paranormal and futuristic/sci-fi, are available through Renaissance Ebooks Sizzler Editions and Pink Flamingo Publications.

Contact Links:

Twitter: @Gianna_Simone

eBook copy of either "Prince of the Universe" 
or "Warrior's Vengeance" 
PLUS Bayou Magiste Series swag
 (includes magnets, pens and postcards). 
In addition, the author will give away an ebook copy of 
each one of the books in the Bayou Magiste Series.

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