Wednesday, September 17, 2014

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The island always knows what you need…

Miranda lives in paradise— the exclusive Eden resort, the ultimate in fantasy retreats.

Roan, the resort’s dungeon consultant, lives part-time on the island and full-time in the past.

When the sexy Dominant and the sultry pastry chef both receive one of the island’s mysterious invitations they spend a sizzling week together in the dungeon suite. 

They’re left breathless, wanting more… and hopelessly falling.

Both have been scarred by loss, both have created a nearly impenetrable shell. The intensity and intimacy of kink might be the perfect recipe to open Miranda’s heart again. 

But can the man who fulfills her every secret desire ever give her what she needs the most?

This is your Invitation to Eden, an exciting series coming in 2014 from 27 of the biggest names in sizzling hot romance. 

Join us as we take you on an exciting adventure to Eden, where anything…and everything goes!

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Expected Publication: September 16th 2014
Series: San Francisco Dom #3, Invitation to Eden #15

Facebook party: Sept 16th & 17th! 


Roan led her to a small sofa upholstered in diamond-tucked red leather and waited for her to sit before seating himself next to her.
“So, here we are,” he said, reaching for a tumbler of water on the table in front of them and pouring her a glass, handing it to her. “Summoned by the Master of the island.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” 
He touched his fingers to the glass, gave it a small nudge. “Drink, Miranda. And tell me what you think of this place.”
She found herself sipping from the glass, following his instructions. 
This is crazy. 
She set the glass down on the table and took a moment to look around, noticing the gorgeous and luxurious equipment. There were red leather spanking benches, gleaming chrome chains dangling from the ceiling, some ending in red and black padded leather cuffs. At regular intervals along the slick red and black walls in between the seating areas were shining chrome racks holding floggers, paddles and whips. And the entire room was reflected in enormous, chrome-framed mirrors mounted on the walls. Beautiful and wicked-looking.
“It’s spectacular. Nothing but the best for the Eden resort, so it doesn't surprise me. But I think I expected there to be other people here,” she said, glancing around, her nerves beginning to prickle at the back of her neck simply from being in the same room—this deliciously wicked room—with Roan Abrams.
“Did you? You knew where you were going, then?”
“Of course. The invitation said to go to Club Sin.” 
His eyes were dark, searching her face. “You knew this wasn't a bar? A dance club?”
“I work here. On the island.”
“Ah. So do I. Well, I come in as a consultant. Tell me what you do here, Miranda.”
“I’m the head pastry chef. But according to the invitation I have the next week off.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek with one warm fingertip, like a tiny shock of need against her skin. There was a small but cocky grin on his generous mouth. “You bake sweets, do you?”
He was too damn handsome. Too commanding. Too… everything. She pulled back. “Which I’m sure you've eaten, if you've been on the island.”
“I’m certain I have. Working with sugar suits you.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
God, why was she being so rude to this man? Maybe because his stunning good looks and natural dominance were making her think about things she shouldn’t even be considering. 
Like his hand coming down on her bare ass. Pulling her hair hard while he kissed her breathless.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice, and she caught his scent—something spicy and earthy. Provocative. “No? I believe I know at least two things about you. One, you were invited here to meet me apparently, since, as you pointed out, we are the only ones here. And two,” he paused, his voice a quiet murmur, “the pulse in your lovely throat is racing.”
“Oh.” She put her hand to her neck for a moment, saw him watching and dropped it down to her side. She had to get herself under control. She cleared her throat. “Why do you think we were invited here? I don’t know what the Master could have been thinking.”
“Am I so repulsive to you, then?”
“What? No, of course not.” Then she saw the teasing twinkle in his eye, the slight curve of his lips, and her cheeks flamed. “I mean, no. I didn't mean to be rude.”
“You weren't.” 
Her gaze narrowed on his. “And you’re having an awful lot of fun playing with me.”
“Ah, I hope to.”
She shook her head. “You've got the wrong girl, Mr. Abrams.”
Doesn't he?
“Roan,” he said. “And I’m fairly certain—quite certain—I don’t. I have a particular knack for these things. You are definitely the right girl, in the right place. With the right Dominant. And even if I were fallible in this regard, Mr. Vardalos is rarely wrong about these things—sending out the invitations. From what I’ve heard.”
“I've heard plenty myself, but I don’t know how much of it to believe and how much is simply clever marketing for Eden.”
“I doubt the resort needs much in the way of marketing since it’s by invitation only. Our benefactor has plenty of money—he didn't build this place because he needs to turn a profit.”
“He’s my employer, not my benefactor. I work hard for my paychecks.”
“Of course. I never meant to imply anything else.”
She really had to calm down and stop being so damn defensive. This man wasn't anything she couldn't handle.
Oh, you are such a liar. Half the conversation has been calculated mind-fuck. 
It was working, damn it. She crossed her legs against the warm ache between them.
She cleared her throat again. “So, what do you do for Mr. Vardalos?” she asked.
“I designed this place, for a start. About four years ago. And the Victorian spanking suite, and the other BDSM suites. He has me back here periodically to make changes, to check equipment, come up with new ideas.”
“You designed this place? The club?”
“Yes, and much of the equipment.”
“Oh…” It came out on a soft breath. Her fingers tightened on her small clutch purse. This man—this Dominant—was definitely going to be more than she was ready for. He was the real thing, high caliber in the kink realm, obviously. No weekend player. Oh, yes, far too real for her, no matter how insanely attracted to him she was. “I think…I think this was a mistake.”
“Again, Miranda, I’m certain it wasn't.”
She stood. “No. It was definitely a mistake. Look, Roan…I don’t mean to be rude. Really. But I’m not…this is not for me. None of this. You. This place. I have to go.”

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About the Author:

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New York Times &  USA Today Bestselling author Eden Bradley writes dark, edgy erotica and erotic romance for Bantam/Delta, Harlequin Spice and HQN, Berkley Heat (as both Eden Bradley and Eve Berlin), and Samhain Publishing. Two of her books have been Romantic Times Top Picks, and her novel FORBIDDEN FRUIT was profiled in Cosmopolitan Magazine's Red Hot Reads column in 2008. More recently her BDSM book THE DARK GARDEN hit the top paperback fiction charts in the UK. Her books have been translated into German, French, Romanian, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, Czech and Japanese. 

As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her BDSM and kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences.

Eden has appeared regularly on Playboy Radio's 'Night Calls' and the Hollywood In the Flesh readings. She loves art, shoes, tattoos, reading smutty books, chocolate and sex, of course, not necessarily in that order.

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