Best Canadian Erotic Romance Stories

Book Cover: Northern Heat

Featuring some of the best examples of Canadian erotic romance, this anthology includes writers such as Sharon Page (USA Today bestselling author) and Kayla Perrin (USA Today and Essence bestselling author, and one of the inaugural authors of the Harlequin Spice line).

These delightful stories show the broad range of eroticism and romance in stories that publishers label as “erotic romance”. Some focus on the burgeoning romance between a couple, whereas others focus more on the erotic situation that hints at a romance to build in the future. Yet others are simply a celebration of sexual intimacy. In all, however, the characters are challenged by some aspect of their sexual desire for each other.

NORTHERN HEAT, will be available for purchase both in Canada and the United States as a paperback only, February 2013.

Publisher: Quarry Press

"I love you, Haley.” The fierceness in his voice staggered her, humbled her.

“I love you too, Max.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. When he did the same, she leaned against him. “Now, what’s this surprise you promised me?”

His gaze flickered away for a second, then returned, the whiskey brown of his eyes serious. “Do you remember the Truth or Dare game we played at the Jack and Jill shower for Greg and whatserface?”

“Of course I do.” She’d stared right at him when one of Tracey’s bridesmaids’ friends had challenged her to confess her number one sexual fantasy would be to make love to Max and another man at the same time, though she’d specifically stated she wanted to be blindfolded so she would never know the identity of the second man.


While their friends had hooted around him, Max had briefly raised his eyebrows but other than that his expression had given nothing away. Nor had he seemed embarrassed or concerned when she’d questioned him later. Had he changed his mind?

“Wait here.” Max disappeared into the bedroom. When he returned, he tossed something black toward her.

She snatched it handily from the air, and ran the silky fabric through her fingers. “This is the scarf I wore the night we met.”

“Tonight it’ll be your blindfold.”

Reviews:Chrissy on Romance Junkies wrote:

“… deliciously naughty fun”

NORTHERN HEAT is only available as a paperback.

If you want your Canadian bookstore or library to order it for their shelves, tell them they can order it from Fitzhenry and Whiteside. If you’re in the States and want to order it at your local Barnes & Noble store, or your library, tell them they can get it through SCB Distributors. And of course it will be available (as a paperback only) through both and  It will also be available from Chapters/Indigo, Costco and your favorite bookstore.

Book Cover: I Need You for Christmas

Ryan Porter is a sculptor, and beneath his callused hands, even the most rigid metals bend to his will. So, too, does his girlfriend Megan—a confident, strong woman who delights in submitting to Ryan’s dominance in the bedroom.

Megan is a Mountie, and she’s spent the past few years in the arctic following her career dreams. Family obligations kept Ryan at home, but their love survived the distance thanks to several hot visits. A Mountie always gets her man, and Megan is bound and determined to keep Ryan.

Now Megan’s with Ryan for the holidays…but how long will this visit last? She’s always been willing to do anything Ryan desires, but will he finally tell her that all he needs for Christmas is her?

Publisher: Carina Press

Copyright © 2012 Leah Braemel

“There’s the beautiful Mountie who always gets her man.”

That voice! That sexy, half-mocking, gorgeous, friendly voice. Megan Sullivan searched the crowd waiting outside the baggage claim area for its owner. His long legs clad in trademark denim, Ryan Porter stood in the middle of the concourse, his mouth pulled up on one side in the grin that caused her knees to wobble every single time.

Pulling her biggest suitcase behind her and wrestling with the carry-on she’d balanced on top of it, she battled her way through the throng and hurried toward him.

Once she rounded the barrier, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground in a full-body hug. “Hey, you. I’ve missed you.”


Ignoring the amused spectators, Ryan lowered his head to capture her mouth with his. Pure male confidence, shouting to the world, “Yeah, she’s mine,” came through loud and clear from the hard press of his lips to the way his hands kneaded her ass.

When he finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Meg left her arms hooked around his neck, loving the feel of his body against hers. Her clit pulsed, needing to be touched by his long callused fingers. Her pussy heated and her nipples ached in anticipation of his mouth on them.

“That wasn’t an I’ve-missed-you kiss.” It had been a full-blown I-want-inside-you kiss.

“No, it wasn’t just an I’ve-missed-you kiss,” he corrected.

She rested her forehead against his chest, the long-seated loneliness that had plagued her up north finally leaching away. “I thought you were supposed to be in Montreal until tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding? And waste even one day with you?”

Meg’s breath stuttered when he cupped her head and kissed her again, this time softer, sweeter, showing none of the blatant possessiveness of the first kiss. This one whispered of need and desire. “I love you, Meg.”

“I love you too.” She loved the way he kissed, the way he felt against her, the way he made her feel feminine instead of the hard-ass bitch she’d been called far too often on the job. She loved the way he smelled of sawdust and… She leaned in and sniffed him deeper. “Why do you smell like roses?”

“Because Amy’s into her nesting phase.” His grimace and fake shudder made her laugh. “She’s making homemade soaps and shampoos, claiming they’ll be safer for the baby. So naturally she’s using us as her guinea pigs. Her latest batch is some hippy-dippy rose petal shampoo so me and Derek and Noah all smell girly-girl. I tell ya, pregnant women are seriously dangerous to us guys.” He dipped his head to whisper in her ear, his russet hair tickling her nose. “I’ll pay you to convince her to make something more manly.”

“You mean like new car scent or burnt motor oil?”

“Yeah, now you’re talking.” He rounded his free hand as if there were a basketball in front of his stomach. The laughter made his amber eyes almost glow though others might have blamed it on the bright sunshine streaming through the glass roof. “Wait’ll you see her. She’s out to here. Derek won’t let her get behind the wheel anymore, she’s gotten so big.”

“I can’t wait to see her again.” Amy had been her roommate in college and they’d become fast friends. When Amy had started dating Derek, Megan had found herself on a double date with Derek’s older brother Ryan. Though she’d expected to be bored when she’d learned Ryan was an artist, she’d been fascinated by his energy. After spending the night debating movies (he preferred art house movies where she loved action) and music (they both loved the same groups), he’d asked her for another date. Three months later, he’d asked her to move in with him.

Until a car accident had changed all their plans.

Ryan stroked the backs of his knuckles along her jaw. “You should be exhausted from your flight yet you’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

“I slept on the plane, and it’s not hard to look better considering I was just coming off a double shift last time.” Sexy was a tough look to achieve in her standard uniform. But it was only after he’d left that she’d seen her reflection and grimaced. Her hair had been sticking up on end, and she’d had a grease stain on her cheek from changing the tire on an old woman’s car. Definitely not the memory she’d wanted to leave him with, not when he’d been on his way to New York to meet his agent at some swanky gallery in Manhattan. Manhattan, where he’d been surrounded by women with carefully coiffed hair, pouty collagen-injected lips and mile-high legs made even sexier by stilettos she’d never manage to walk in without falling on her ass.

“I mean it, Meg. After all the delays, the changes in your schedule, the sixteen-hour layover waiting for the weather to clear up, you’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” He looked pretty damned good himself, but then he always did. In addition to staying fit, he’d let his hair grow longer so now the russet waves flowed over his shoulders. It suited him. She reached up and stroked his jaw. “Why did you shave your goatee?”

“Amy and Sophie double-teamed me before I left for Montreal. They said I should shave it since the press was going to be at the gallery opening.” He leaned down and rubbed his clean-shaven jaw over her cheek. “Do you like it?”

“You look good.” Except she’d liked his goatee, especially when he was between her thighs, his tongue working its magic, the bristle of his facial adding an extra— Stop thinking about how great it would be if he fucked you in the front seat of his truck. About how he’d feel when you straddled him and lowered yourself onto his thick cock. How his fingers would dig into your hips, lifting and lowering you, as his mouth sucked your nipples, rasping his teeth over them. Her pussy tightened as she imagined him pounding into her, hitting all the right spots until her muscles tightened around him, clenching, spasming

Crap, that really wasn’t something to dwell on until they were somewhere private. At the rate her pussy was tingling in anticipation, drenching her panties, she might not wait for anywhere more private than a dark corner of the parking garage.

Ryan lifted the strap of her duffel from her shoulder and hoisted it over his own. “Pack much? What did you do? Bring everything you owned?”

“What? Is it too heavy for you, big guy?” She hid her grin. Wait until he learned she’d done exactly that.

Despite her protests, he wheeled her suitcase behind them down the long concourse toward the ramp to the parking garage. They chatted about the weather, the flight, all the usual humdrum stuff, but an electricity hummed between them, the little zing deep in her soul that tingled whenever he was near.


*HARLEQUIN COVER ART: Cover Art Copyright© 2010 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. © and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

Reviews:Jeriha on Coffee Time Romance wrote:

“This is not just another erotic hot Christmas story, but much much more…A must read…”  ~Jeriha, Coffee Time Romance

Sarah on Feeling Fictional wrote:

“…The ultimate feel good Christmas story…"

Annie on Under the Covers Book Blog wrote:

“All of the stories in this anthology have very sexy sex scenes, but I think this story really upped up the ante.” ~ Under the Covers Book Blog



Part of the Carina Press ™  2012 Red Hot Holiday Anthology, edited by Angela James.

If you like “hearing” your books, Audible has the entire anthology as an audio book.

More Reviews

reviewertoppick2Top Pick Review – Leah Braemel has the talent to bring her characters alive and her settings real… a big story that felt at least twice as long as it is.” ~Terri, Night Owl Romance

“a hot and passionate updating of the O Henry story, Gift of the Magi.” ~ Nancy G, My Odd Little World

One of the “Top 5 Favorite Holiday novellas” ~ Lit 4 Ladies

“…Definite red hot read!” Modokker Book Picks

“…without a doubt my favorite book of the anthology” ~Read Your Writes Book Reviews

“…steamy BDSM sex scenes, some serious pantie melters! It was also really sweet, I liked the characters and I felt their chemistry straight away. It was a really nice & easy read, I would really recommend it…” ~ Book Protagonist Book Reviews

“a wonderful addition to the anthology….the best novella in the anthology in terms of smoking hot sexy times.” ~ The Bookpushers

“This story was sweet, and hot…Terrific story. Escape Rating for I Need You for Christmas: B+” ~Reading Reality

“…beautifully written…Truth be told, I cannot wait to read this book again.” ~ Alyson, SnifferWalk Books

Book Cover: Private Property

Security specialist Jodi Tyler has a great job and a great relationship with her boss, Mark Rodriguez—in the office and in the bedroom. Their casual arrangement is all she wants, and she’d thought it was all Mark wanted too. Right up until she’s busted while testing the security of a Lake Arlington mansion. To her surprise, and with the help of the mansion’s owner, Sam Watson, Jodi’s no-strings affair with Mark is about to become a little more…binding.

Sharing Jodi with his best friend Sam was supposed to be fun. But as the intimate evening progresses, certain feelings come to light, feelings Mark didn’t know he had.  Feelings he doesn’t know what to do about. But Sam does. And he knows exactly what to do about them.

By evening’s end, the decisions Mark is forced to make will change everyone’s lives. He will either disappoint them all—or claim Jodi as his own private property.

Publisher: Somerlane Publishing
Cover Artists:

Copyright © 2009 Leah Braemel
Somerlane Publishing
All rights reserved

A deep reverberating thrum filled Jodi Tyler’s chest and stroked the back of her throat with its raw promise of latent power. The unmistakable growl of a Harley. The sound bounced off the highwalled estate hugging the shores of Lake Arlington, then abruptly stopped.

She lifted the night vision binoculars and peered through the tinted windows of the surveillance van. Nothing. Deciding there was no threat from the road, she swiveled her chair back to the monitors. Her fingers flicked the switches controlling the surveillance cameras aimed at the estate. Images flashed across the monitor in rapid succession. They all showed the same thing. Nothing.

So where had the motorcycle gone?

“Must’ve turned off,” she muttered to herself. She grabbed the black T-shirt she’d discarded earlier and blotted the sweat trickling down her neck.


Maybe the pimply teenager three doors up drove a Harley. More likely his mid-life-crisis-aged father, she thought, wiping the perspiration pooled between her breasts. Being stuck in a stifling black van in Dallas during a heat wave was not her idea of excitement. Especially on her birthday. Which Mark had forgotten.

Or ignored.

After hinting for weeks about how she wanted to spend the night, starting with a romantic dinner at their favorite restaurant, after teasing him about the sexy negligee she’d bought, even after that stupid list of all the sexual fantasies she’d written for him, he’d still gone ahead and arranged for her to penetrate the estate tonight. Tonight!

“If he expects me to be in any sort of romantic mood when I get home, he’s got rocks in his head.” She plopped down in the chair with a huff. “He can sleep in his own bed tonight. Alone.”

She switched the monitor back to the camera aimed at the Lexus parked in front of the five-car garage. If the assistant kept to her regular schedule—and that woman was punctual to a fault—the car would soon be cruising up the drive. Which meant Jodi’d be out of this Easy-Bake Oven and into the air-conditioned estate to finish this assignment. Then she could go home and shower. Alone.

An insidious thought slithered into her mind, puncturing her self-confidence with an icy-cold needle. That’s what he’s planned all along—he’s trying to dump you without actually having to say anything.

No, she thought, shaking her head. Mark doesn’t play games like that.

How do you know? the voice whispered. Why else would he arrange for the estate to be penetrated today of all days? He’s easing his way out of the affair by pissing you off, hoping you’ll dump him first. And don’t forget how he insisted either one of you could walk away at any point.

She leaned back in the chair, her arms folded across her chest. Easing out of a relationship had to be better than being dumped by text message the way Todd had done. “Let’s just be friends.”

Friends, my ass.

Would it hurt less than it had when she’d found another woman’s bra under Danny’s bed and been forced to endure his long, stumbling explanation? “She’s softer, less demanding, you know?”

Yeah, she knew.

Permanent scars etched her heart after Jace’s less-than-flattering comments about her lack of femininity when she’d graduated from the police academy. More fool her, she’d actually quit the force trying to please that asshole and he’d still dumped her.

Maybe Mark’s way of easing out of a relationship was better. Maybe it would hurt less. She rubbed the heel of her hand over the ache in her heart. Who was she kidding? Despite agreeing with Mark that the affair wouldn’t be long term, she’d fallen in love with him anyway. If he was breaking up with her, she was soon going to feel like her skin had been stripped off layer by layer.

When a branch snapped behind the van, interrupting her pity fest, she grabbed her gun from the console and headed to the driver’s seat. There was no way she was going to sit here as a witless target.

“Jodi? Open up, babe, it’s me,” Mark whispered through the back panel.

Excitement flared in her chest at the sound of his voice. When she realized her heart was racing just from hearing his voice, she silently cursed herself for acting like a bookworm with a serious crush on the quarterback.

“Jodi?” Mark said, a little louder this time. “You okay in there?”

She thumbed on the safety of the Glock and, after taking a deep breath, opened the door. A glance around showed no sign of his Humvee—he must have parked it farther down the road and walked up.

“You could have phoned to say you were coming in. I might have shot you.” In the groin.

The van dipped when he stepped up into it. His six-foot-two-inch frame filling the narrow confines, he gently closed the door so it wouldn’t give away their position. The dragon tattoo on his biceps flexed as he placed a knapsack on the console beside the surveillance equipment. Muscles rippled beneath the Celada Security logo emblazoned across the chest of his black T-shirt. Muscles she’d felt flex beneath her palms the night before.

Her fingers itched to run themselves through the thick crop of black hair in his Marine high-and-tight. Normally she didn’t go for guys with short hair, but that glistening four-inch-wide pelt reminded her of a mink coat she wanted wrapped around her body. Between her legs.

Get over that desire real fast, she told her fingers. “You’re late.”

“Got stuck at the lawyers’. There—” He stopped as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, reminding her of what she was—or rather, wasn’t—wearing.

Every cell in her body went on high alert, trembled with need and expectation as if he’d touched her wherever he looked.

His grin widened and his chocolate brown eyes glinted. “Is a sports bra and thong the latest fashion for surveillance?”

Jodi flipped him the bird while she searched for the T-shirt she’d discarded.

“It was hot. I stripped down. So bite me,” she said, though without the rancor she’d intended.

“Anything you say, babe.” He pulled her against him and nipped at her earlobe. “But I fully approve of your outfit. Think I should make it part of the dress code.”

“Yeah, that’ll go over real well.” She attempted to maintain her anger. And failed. “Everyone’s been dying to see Hector’s fat ass in a thong.”

When his hands cupped her breasts, Jodi melted into his touch. Magic fingers, she thought, as his thumbs brushed her taut nipples. Was this the last time he’d touch her like this? Or was it just her insecurity making her paranoid?

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” he said, his breath hot on her neck.

The citrus fragrance of his aftershave, and the lack of his usual dark five-o’clock shadow told her he’d recently shaved. His fresh scent reminded her how grungy she felt having been cooped up in over one hundred degree heat all day. It took a charming—or incredibly obtuse—man to tell a woman whose hair clung in damp strands to her neck and probably smelled like the inside of a stable that she was beautiful.

Surely a man planning on dumping her wouldn’t be acting like this. Or was he overcompensating?

“The assistant leave yet?” His tongue brushed over her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Um…” She struggled to think under the onslaught of sensation. His tongue trailed down her neck, teeth nipped at that spot that made her need him inside her. What was it about him that made her knees turn to jelly and her insides to liquid heat?

“Babe? Did Ms. Janssen leave?”

She barely heard him repeat the question when his hand released her breast and moved lower. She forced one eye open and peered over his shoulder at the monitor, verifying the car hadn’t moved.

“No, not yet. If she keeps to her usual schedule she should leave in ten minutes. I thought I heard an engine a few moments ago. You see anything on the way in?”

“Nope.” He turned her away from the monitor and pushed aside the thin strip of her thong. His fingers—those broad, callused, talented fingers—stroked her vulva, sending streaks of pleasure deep inside.

She struggled to maintain focus the way he could. “Must have been… Oh, Mark, yes, right there.”

Her legs opened wider under his murmured instructions, while her hands fumbled with the zipper in his blue jeans. Fingers were all very well, but when there was a cock willing and eager to penetrate her—and from the rock-hard erection beneath her palm, he was more than ready—there was no contest. She heard the rustle of canvas when he reached behind her, and she wondered what was in the knapsack that he needed at this precise moment.

“Got a present for you.” His mouth covered hers, swallowing her squeak of surprise when something hard and cold touched her labia and pressed inward. “Something to keep you on your toes.”

A moan left her when the object started vibrating inside her. He had to be kidding!

She reached down to remove the vibrating egg, only to have her wrist circled by his fingers, pulling her hand away.

“Oh no you don’t. Leave it in until I take it out myself.” An intense look filled his dark eyes, replacing the earlier amusement. He stepped back, all business, and picked up her black twill pants. “Better put these on. The assistant will be leaving soon. Don’t forget you have to get through the gate right after she leaves.”

“I know the plan.” She tugged on her pants, doing her best to ignore the overwhelming need the device was creating. “Do you seriously expect me to break into the house and crack a safe with this damned thing vibrating inside me?”

He flashed a six-megawatt grin. “Yup, I do.”

Jodi stuck her tongue out at him. Okay, it was childish, but she hated that he’d got her so hot and bothered and then wouldn’t let her come. Until she noticed the bulge in his pants. Proving that despite Mark’s business-like demeanor, he was just as horny.

“We’ve got a few minutes before Ms. Janssen leaves.” She trailed a finger down his chest, slid her hand between them and rubbed his erection, intent on torturing him and silencing her insecurities. “You must be aching as bad as I am. No use both of us being unfulfilled all night.”

His grin fading, Mark flipped a switch on the remote. The vibrations ceased within her, leaving her with a completely unsatisfied pussy. Damn it, she needed to finish what he’d started.

“Look, babe, I know you wanted to celebrate, but the owner insisted it be today. And since you’re our best at infiltration…” He tucked the remote into his shirt pocket then lifted her hands in his.

At least he’d remembered her birthday.

When he pressed his lips against her knuckles, her insecurity crawled back under its rock. Hopefully forever.

“I’d still rather have you inside me than this vibrator.”

He chuckled and kissed her fingers again. “I know. So would I. But we don’t have time.”

“So why are you insisting I keep it in?”

He let her hands drop and cradled her head to his shoulder briefly. “Just for fun. Besides, you’re always practicing cracking those safes wearing headphones, listening to loud music and street sounds. So think of my present as just another distraction, something to add to the challenge.”

She relented. A little. There were worse ways to be distracted—like having firecrackers or guns aimed at you—both of which had been done to her in the past. His professionalism had attracted her to him in the first place; it wasn’t right that she snark about it now, she supposed. Besides, what could be more exciting than breaking into a house, knowing you could get caught, a vibrator your lover had placed deep inside arousing every fiber of your being? By night’s end, she’d be so horny, so desperate for him, he could fuck her in the middle of Dealey Plaza at high noon and she wouldn’t deny him.

She bent over to pick up her T-shirt, making sure Mark had a really good look at her butt. Might as well give him something to think about while she was away.

“You got the letter I’m supposed to leave in the safe?” The shirt muffled her voice as she pulled it over her head.

He held up a sealed envelope. “Right here.”

She grabbed the envelope and shoved it in her pocket. “You sure the owner hasn’t upgraded the system? Or tipped the current security company off?”

“Nah, I have his word that if you crack the safe tonight, I’ll have a signature on a contract at our lunch tomorrow. And then I can concentrate on the merger.” Mark perched on the edge of the console and folded his arms. A smug look on his face told her he expected her to encounter no problems.

Yet for all his confidence in her, the envelope weighed a ton in her pocket. “Mark, are you sure you want to sell out? You’ve worked so hard making Celada the top security firm in Texas—you can’t just hand over the reins to some stranger, even if he was your old college buddy. You love running your own company too much to see it gobbled up by Hauberk Security.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged until she stood between his legs. “It’s just a merger, babe, not a complete takeover. I’ve told you I’ll continue to run ops this side of the Mississippi, and Sam will manage everything to the east from D.C. We’ll both have to agree on any major decision, each with an equal say.”

“And if you can’t agree?”

“It’ll work out. Trust me.” His hand cupped her buttock and squeezed as he glanced at the monitor behind her. “Time to move, babe. Ms. Janssen is driving toward the gate.”
He couldn’t have staged a better way to avoid the subject if he’d planned it.

After pulling on a pair of surgical gloves, Jodi picked up the two-way headset and tucked it around her ear. “Give me a sound check, will you?”

Mark flipped on the microphone to the radio, and whispered something in Spanish.

Shivers flared down her spine and sent a bolt of heat into her core. “One of these days I’m going to take Spanish lessons. What did you say this time?”

“I promised to tie your hands behind your back and make you get on your knees. Then I said I’m going to put my dick in your mouth until I spew come down your throat.”

Grabbing the back-door latch, Jodi pressed her knees together as her pussy clamped around the egg lodged high inside. “If you’d let Javier do this job the way I’d suggested, I’d be on my knees in a heartbeat. But since you didn’t, I guess you’ll have to keep dreaming.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He winked and tossed her a black knit cap. “Forget something?”

With a muttered curse about wool caps and Texas heat, Jodi tucked her hair beneath the cap’s edges. Once Mark had flicked off the van’s dome light, she eased the door open. As she squeezed through the narrow opening, branches scraped against the door’s paint job and tugged at her thin black cotton shirt.

Headlights slanted up the curving driveway, backlighting the ornate wrought-iron gates that creaked as they swung open.

“Right on time. Someone needs to teach you there’s safety in unpredictability, lady,” she murmured.

The sleek dark blue Lexus drove through the gates and turned right.

“Show time, babe,” Mark said over the headset.

Heart thumping, Jodi slid in through the gates as the motor whirred, jumping only slightly when the gate clicked shut behind her.

Keeping to the shadows cast by the half-moon, Jodi crept down the long driveway toward the sprawling three-story Tudor mansion. She skirted the massive garage, then followed the path around back and stopped by the first French door. Whatever security expert designed the current system hadn’t insisted that a deadbolt be installed on this one. Or the installers had missed it. And that was the reason she—no, she reminded herself, Mark’s company—was going to prove they were the best security firm in Texas.

She pulled out the thin strip of plastic she had tucked in the pouch on her belt and shoved it between the jamb and the latch. Seconds later, she straightened and opened door.
As she’d expected, a red light flashed in the security panel beside the door. She punched in the number she’d memorized and breathed a sigh of relief when the light turned a steady green. They hadn’t changed the security code since she’d reconnoitered. Another point for her report.

“I’m in,” she whispered, knowing Mark was listening in the van. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck, angling her head to catch the cool breeze rushing through the air-conditioning vent.

“You never told me how you got the security code,” she heard Mark say in the earpiece as she headed through the empty room toward the center hallway.

“I have my secrets,” she taunted. That weekend she’d bribed to call in sick so she could fill in had paid off—even if it meant she’d had to scrub toilets. The work hadn’t really been hard—the new owner had only furnished four rooms so far, so there’d not been much to clean.

A smile tugging at her lips, Jodi paused at the door to the office, ensuring it was empty. Moonlight streamed between the heavy curtains that flanked the French doors and across the floor in a rectangular pattern, slanting up the bookcases lining the walls. The red power light on the cordless phone reflected in the brass base of the banker’s lamp on the desk. Assured she was alone, she walked confidently toward the desk.

“The safe’s in the floor behind the desk,” Mark reminded her. “Figure you’ve got less than an hour to crack the safe, leave the envelope and get out before the next patrol cruises by.”

She rolled her eyes. Cruise was right—that’s all the minimum-wage cop wannabees currently providing security did for their visual inspection. Her van had been parked in the area for a week now and they hadn’t slowed down enough to read her license plate or check why she was there.

She pushed the leather office chair aside and knelt on the hardwood floor, inhaling a whiff of lemon furniture polish. The very same polish she’d applied on the weekend. Reaching beneath the desk, her fingers found the latch that would free the panel hiding the safe. Her breath left her with a whoosh when she heard the audible click.

“Got it!” she whispered, pumping her fist in the air. Now the real fun began.

Still on her knees, she reached down and swung open the square section of floor concealing the safe. A chuckle escaped her. She’d never bothered to tell Mark that during her stint as a replacement maid, she’d been assigned to dust this room. Or that she’d discovered the safe’s combination on the flip side of the leather blotter.

“Hey, Mark, start the timer—I’ll bet I can have this baby cracked in under three minutes.”

Mark’s low chuckle reverberated in her ear. “Two. Loser gets tied up and spanked.”
Jodi’s butt tightened. Spanking usually meant Mark was in the mood for ass play. Maybe she should deliberately take four minutes. No, she thought with wicked delight as she glanced at her latex covered fingers, it was time Mark got a taste of his own medicine.

“Then drop your pants, big boy, and show me your sweet ass, ’cause you’re going to get a whoopin’ tonight.”

Clenching her penlight between her teeth, she leaned over the dial of the old-fashioned safe. Then jumped when the egg started to vibrate deep inside her.
Sonuvabitch. She stopped herself from screeching. She’d completely forgotten the damned thing. Her nipples hardened into swollen buds rubbing against her cotton T-shirt while her pussy throbbed in time with the vibrations.

No way was she going to let Mark win this bet. Ignoring the vibrator as best she could, she carefully turned the dial clockwise to the first number. Heard the click as the mechanism released. One-and-a-half-turns counterclockwise. Another click. Clockwise again. Click. Grinning, she checked her watch.

“Mark, your ass is going to be sore tomorrow,” she whispered.

A quick tug on the handle opened the safe. Her penlight’s thin beam of light illuminated a thick rope of gold with a massive ruby pendant resting upon a black velvet-covered board. A set of dangly earrings that matched the pendant and several diamond-encrusted bracelets winked back at her. A fortune in easily fenced gems and the idiot had left the combination to the safe where anyone could find it.

Shaking her head at the owner’s stupidity, she pulled out the envelope. Then froze when the sliver of light from the French door lengthened, slid beneath the desk and over the safe.

She peered beneath the knee space under the desk. The moonlight outlined the shape of a dark figure shutting the doors.

“Under two minutes, Mark, I win,” she announced as she crawled from beneath the desk. She straightened and smiled, expecting Mark to flash that sexy smile of his. She was so ready to fuck him, to have him ram his cock deep into her.

But her smile froze when the intruder took a step into the room and the moonlight gleamed off his head. His shaved head.

Not Mark.

“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.”

Reviews:Shannon on The Romance Studio wrote:

…a wickedly delicious and daring story taken directly from most women’s fantasies…a raw sensuality that holds the reader captive from the first page..a luscious, fast paced adventure that is sure to please readers who enjoy an edgy and intense erotic romance…a refreshingly touching twist to the menage theme…

NOMINATED AS BEST EROTIC ROMANCE, and Leah for BEST EROTIC ROMANCE AUTHOR by the Romance Studio reviewers for the Cupid and Psyche Romance Awards

Chrissy on Romance Junkies wrote:

Leah Braemel’s PRIVATE PROPERTY delves into all of one woman’s naughty fantasies and promises to leave readers hot and sweaty. … All of these characters will touch your heart in one way or another. …

Lea on Blackraven's Reviews wrote:

Recommended Read! If you read Private Property when it was first released, it is time for a re-read. If you somehow missed this book, get it now. You won’t be disappointed.

  Nominated for Best Erotic Contemporary Romance 2009

by the reviewers of The Romance Studio

This book was originally published in 2009 by Samhain Publishing, but has been given a new cover and re-released in 2016 by Somerlane Publishing.  Other than some minor editing to update the technology, the contents remain unchanged.

Feeding the Flames ~ Official Website of Leah Braemel

Sometimes the person who loves you most is standing right in front of you…

Volunteer firefighter Zac Buchanan has been carrying a torch for Tabatha Morgan since…well, forever. A promise he made years ago backfired, sending Tabatha into the arms of another man, and him into a decade of heartache. Now Tabatha’s back in town, newly divorced, and the sparks between them are setting them both aflame.

Tabatha would have bet her secret five-alarm chili recipe that her school girl crush on Zac had died out long ago. Except those slumbering embers reignited the moment Zac walked into her diner. Now each time she sees him—hears him, thinks about him—she can’t imagine her life without him again.

But if their new-found love and sizzlin’ hot action in the bedroom—and living room, kitchen and bathroom—is to survive, Tabatha must also accept the smoke, flames and danger of Zac’s job. Or their happy-ever-after will forever be extinguished.

Publisher: Somerlane Publishing
Cover Artists:

Copyright © 2014 Leah Braemel

“Wait a minute. Do you really think you can just show up and drop that type of bombshell and then walk away and leave me hanging? Not a chance, bud.” She tugged on his collar and stepped backward, leading him to the back of the diner. After pausing to flip off the remaining lights, she resumed their trek toward the rear exit. Well, she’d intended to. They’d made it as far as her office when Zac banded her wrists with one hand, dragged them above her head and pressed her against the wall with his body. With her trapped, he captured her mouth.

Even her most erotic fantasy hadn’t prepared her for his kiss.


Her eyes drifted closed so she could concentrate on the pure sensation. From the hardness of his chest pressing against her, holding her in place, and his breath on her skin, to the soft prickle of his stubble on her cheek. That he was showing a side of himself she’d never seen before was just as erotic. She’d seen him playful before, but there was an intensity to him, as if carefully stoked embers had ignited.

His long fingers slipped to the back of her neck. A quick tug and her apron sagged to her waist. Cool air from overhead brushed bare skin as he unbuttoned her shirt. The heat of his touch as he pushed the fabric aside caused her nipples to harden into tight buds.

Feeding the Flames is knock your bobby socks off sexy and worthy of a happy ending (and when you read it you’ll understand both those references)! ~ Slick Reads, Guilty Pleasure Reviews

He released his grip on her wrists and shoved her bra beneath her breasts, the fabric rasping over her sensitive nipples. She lost herself in how his eyes were now nearly black with desire.
His groan rumbled through her chest. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to see these?”

As long she’d wanted him to touch them? Why had she settled for Bill when she should have admitted to Zac she was attracted to him back in high school? All those wasted years.

Her knees trembled when he cupped her breasts, his long fingers toying with the hard buds. Between the kissing and his attention to her breasts, her body heated and softened.

Free of restraint, she brought her hands down, gave into the need to thread her fingers through the silky strands of his hair. It was just how she’d expected it to feel. And this wasn’t a fantasy, wasn’t a dream. She leaned in to resume the kiss, only to have him pull away.

“Behave.” Once again he banded her wrists with one hand and hauled them above her head.

The command in his tone had her immediately obeying. Strange, considering she usually balked whenever someone tried to take over. “But I want to touch you.”

“Kitten, you touch me right now and I’ll go off like a bottle rocket.”

Huh. Who knew she had such power over him?

Reviews:Slick Reads on Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews wrote:

Feeding the Flames is knock your bobby socks off sexy and worthy of a happy ending (and when you read it you’ll understand both those references)!

  Feeding the Flames was originally part of the FIVE ALARM ALPHAS BUNDLE.