“Broad at the shoulders and lean at the hips, six foot-and-then-something of ropey muscle, he looks like a Spartan god who got lost in a thrift store. He moves like ink through water. And his eyes, when you get a good look at them, are silver. Not gray. Silver. You might take their inhuman shine for fancy contact lenses. You’d be wrong.”
Janine Ashbless is back with the second in her paranormal erotic romance Book of the Watchers trilogy: In Bonds of the Earth
Unafraid to tackle the more complex issues surrounding good and evil in mainstream religion, Janine has created a thought-provoking and immersive novel which sets a new standard for paranormal erotic romance. The first in the series, Cover Him With Darkness, was released in 2014 by Cleis Press and received outstanding reviews.
In Bonds of the Earth, the second in the Book of Watchers trilogy and the sequel to Cover Him With Darkness, is published by Sinful Press and was released on March 1st, 2017.
Here’s the sales blurb:
“I will free them all.”
When Milja Petak released the fallen angel Azazel from five thousand years of imprisonment, she did it out of love and pity. She found herself in a passionate sexual relationship beyond her imagining and control – the beloved plaything of a dark and furious demon who takes what he wants, when he wants, and submits to no restraint. But what she hasn’t bargained on is being drawn into his plan to free all his incarcerated brothers and wage a war against the Powers of Heaven.
As Azazel drags Milja across the globe in search of his fellow rebel angels, Milja fights to hold her own in a situation where every decision has dire consequences. Pursued by the loyal Archangels, she is forced to make alliances with those she cannot trust: the mysterious Roshana Veisi, who has designs of her own upon Azazel; and Egan Kansky, special forces agent of the Vatican – the man who once saved then betrayed her, who loves her, and who will do anything he can to imprison Azazel for all eternity.
Torn every way by love, by conflicting loyalties and by her own passions, Milja finds that she too is changing – and that she must do things she could not previously have dreamt of in order to save those who matter to her.
And here’s an enticing, erotic excerpt, definitely 18+
He pushes open the office door and strolls in like he owns the place. The misters Ellis and Singh and Constanzo and Mackenzie, who are sitting either side down the long table and have all been wondering why I’m staring slack-faced and flushed past their heads, all turn to look at him and frown. He’s not wearing an office suit. Not even any shoes, in fact; he never wears shoes. Just faded black jeans and a white long-sleeved T-shirt in some soft material that makes me want to press my face to it and feel the hard wall of his chest beneath. His dark hair is long and unkempt, his jaw scruffy with black stubble, his eyes slits of wicked anticipation. As an employee, he wouldn’t get away with that sort of appearance even down in the bowels of the drafting department where they hide the techies.
But he doesn’t look like an engineer. Broad at the shoulders and lean at the hips, six foot-and-then-something of ropey muscle, he looks like a Spartan god who got lost in a thrift store. He moves like ink through water. And his eyes, when you get a good look at them, are silver. Not gray. Silver. You might take their inhuman shine for fancy contact lenses. You’d be wrong.
“Milja,” he greets me, his smile wolfish. “Come out and play.”
“Excuse me—do you know this man?” Mr. Singh demands.
“She’s my leman,” he says, managing to sound helpful and yet not being helpful in any way whatsoever.
“Go away!” I beseech him.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Oh, I love it when you beg for me.”
He’s as old as the earth, and he’s prickly with rebellion, and he has no boundaries when it comes to sex. No social shame at all. That’s not a good thing.
“What’s he doing here, Ms. Petak?” asks Mr. Ellis, stabbing his notepad with his ballpoint pen in irritation.
“I want her,” he purrs. “Now.”
Excuse my language, but Azazel will screw me anywhere. In front of anyone. He’ll turn up without warning, wanting action, and he’ll fuck me breathless and then vanish into empty air leaving me in a puddle of exhaustion and bliss and shock. And in these months since I released him from his underground prison, I don’t think he’s managed to really wrap his head around the concept of ‘consent’ at all. I am, after all, his mortal pet. I’m a powerless, infinitesimally ignorant, transient blip in the annals of eternity. How could I possibly argue with him?
“Please, I’m working, this is important—just wait till I’ve finished?” I try.
“Important?” He comes up beside me and glances at my little audience. “More important than me?” he wonders as he runs his fingers through my hair. I’ve tied it back in a ponytail but the whole lot comes loose at a touch, allowing him to knot his fingers there. The gesture, as always, fills me with a wet heat.
“Of course not,” I stutter, “but…”
That’s when he kisses me. Hot, hungry, just this side of threatening. His mouth steals away my breath, and his hands in my hair and on my flank steal away my free will. One thumb presses into the soft flesh inside my hip, probing the pressure point there that makes me go weak.
“Milja,” I hear Mr. Constanzo growl; “this is most inappropriate.”
I tear my lips free with a gasp. “I’m sorry!”
“No she’s not,” says Azazel. His free hand drifts to the buttons at the front of my blouse. “She loves this.”
“Azazel!” I whimper, squirming with shame as his fingers flick open the first button, but unable to escape his grip in my hair. “Don’t!”
“Shush,” he admonishes, stooping so that his lips brush my ear. “I want you. You want me. These men want to watch. See?”
He turns me back to face them, sliding behind me. ‘These men’ are wide-eyed and open-mouthed by now. But oddly they voice no objection as he pulls aside my bra cup and pops my right breast out for all to see.
Oh God, they’re all looking at me.
My panties are soaked and my legs are actually trembling. Azazel knows me only too well. I get off on being claimed by him in public. I was always the girl no one noticed. But I can’t be ignored now. He’s right that I love it. Even when I hate it. Even when I’m crimson with shame. He wipes away all my common sense with a flick of a finger, the press of a palm, the first hint of a lecherous, knowing smile. I’m watching my career go down the can again, and all I can think of is how hot this is making me.
So when Azazel lovingly touches my breast, when the dusky point of my nipple rises stiff and swollen under the play of his fingers as he sighs in my ear, I don’t fight him. Even when he pushes my bra-straps all the way down my shoulders to bare me and cups both my orbs, soft and quivering in the rough heft of his hands, to present me to my audience, my only protest is the squirm of my hips and the press of my ass against his body. My face is averted, my lips soft with submission.
“She has beautiful breasts, hasn’t she?” Azazel asks. I can hear the sounds of throats being cleared, of uncomfortable shifting in chairs. But no one answers or stands up to my defense. It’s all been so fast they’ve gone into shock.
“You know, I hate these ugly clothes she wears,” he muses. He means my white lacy bra, my button-down blouse, my respectable A-line skirt. “I would have her naked, all day, so that I might see her beauty any time I choose. But she persists in defying me.”
He abandons my breasts to unhook the catch at the back of my skirt and draw down the zipper. My skirt slithers down my thighs and hits the floor at my feet, baring my legs. Suddenly the rest of me is on display too—my white thong panties, my narrow hips, my vulnerable thighs, creamy in contrast to the fabric. I know the dark shadow of my fleece is visible through the white lace. All four men are staring at me. I lift my gaze and see, through the glass beyond, that fellow-workers in the office have started to notice. Some have stopped in their tracks.
“Forward over the table, Milja,” Azazel orders.
More about the author…
Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.
Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.
Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.
Her work has been described as:
“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa
Amazon ebook: http://hyperurl.co/cu1pe0
Amazon paperback: http://hyperurl.co/fuqprg
In Bonds of the Earth will be available from all major online bookstores in both digital and print. Please contact Lisa Jenkins at firstname.lastname@example.org for any further information.