Bøger af Dalia Craig

Two women, a lovely old house, and an ancient family feud, come together in this lesbian romance set in and around the picturesque seaside town of Whitby, North Yorkshire. When Jaime Fyre inherits Rykesby from her uncle, James, the unexpected bequest proves increasingly problematic. The sudden arrival of Kimberly Marshall, who lays claim to the property, adds to Jaime's troubles. Why is Kimberly so convinced that Jaime is both a liar and a fraud? The mystery deepens when Jaime finds a photograph of her mother amongst her uncle's possessions. Why is it there? Did her mother and her uncle have a relationship? Jaime's search for answers draws a blank. With nobody left to ask, the list of unanswered questions grows, matching the tension between Kimberly and Jaime. As Jaime's future happiness, and her relationship with Kimberly, hang in the balance will what Jaime discovers behind a locked door in the library help or hinder her quest for truth and reconciliation? Excerpt: From the outset, Jaime had experienced a weird sense of déjà vu as though the house knew her and was welcoming her home with a big cozy hug. Her puzzlement and sense of unreality mounted as she moved from room to room, finding familiarity at every turn, while knowing that she'd never set foot inside the place before. In fact, she hadn't even known the house existed until a couple of hours ago and in turn had spent little more than a brief half hour exploring the amazing rooms. There was a lot to see and Jaime had been so intent on her quest that she'd initially dismissed the faint scrunching sound, like tires on gravel, as a figment of an over active imagination. Not until she heard the unmistakable solid clunk of a car door had she accepted it wasn't her mind playing tricks. Reluctantly abandoning her exploration to check out the unexpected caller she hurried along the upstairs hallway. After a couple of wrong turns she'd found her way back to the top of the main staircase. A brief glance out the large arched window and her first sight of the visitor stopped Jaime dead. A frisson of excitement trickled down her spine. She knew this woman, intimately. No, not literally, but she was the perfect embodiment of Granby. Jaime couldn't believe her fictitious hero was a real person, here, in the flesh, and looking so perfect. Good enough to eat. Jaime's heart missed several beats as she feasted her eyes on the tall stranger who was clearly in no hurry to announce her presence. Instead the woman leant casually against an expensive looking black SUV while she scrutinized the house giving Jaime ample time to study her. Every detail fitted Granby to a tee, exactly as Jaime had defined her lead character all those years ago. Early forties, short cropped hair, graying slightly, and naturally tanned skin that spoke of a life spent mainly outdoors. Stone washed denims, worn with a red plaid shirt over a white vest, completed the picture and emphasized her rugged good looks. Strong, sexy, and unmistakably butch. A tingling awareness radiated through Jaime's body and ignited a flame deep inside her core. She couldn't wait to discover if the woman matched the other qualities she'd bestowed upon her hero. Anticipation propelled her swiftly down the wide staircase to arrive at the bottom step breathless, and excited, just as the stranger burst through the inner doors into the hall. Whatever Jaime had expected, an ugly confrontation was the last thing on her mind. "I asked you a question." The curt, authoritative, tone a clear indication that this woman was used to giving orders rather than taking them. "And I want a straight-forward answer. What are you doing in my house?" She advanced several paces toward Jaime, as she spoke, reinforcing her air of authority. Slowly, small fragments of clarity began to emerge from the jumble of unintelligible white noise jamming Jaime's brain. What the hell is going on?

From Scotland to London, Amsterdam, and New York, two women struggle to build an enduring relationship in the face of adversity. Danger haunts fashion photographer, Bryana Austin, at every turn. Her ex is seeking revenge and will do anything to achieve her aim. Bryana needs a safe haven. Cassie offers her healing and protection but is the price too high? Cassie Stuart is a Mistress in every sense of the word. Her Scottish castle boasts its own fully equipped dungeon. She is searching for the perfect submissive to make her life complete but she finds love instead. Will it be enough? A chance meeting offers both Bryana and Cassie hope for the future if they can overcome the obstacles of the present. Bound by Consent was originally published by loveyoudivine Alterotica and includes - Taming Bryana, Slave to Lust, Night Games, Meeting of Minds, and Full Circle - All previously published as individual eBooks by loveyoudivine Alterotica Excerpt: "You expect me to get up on that?" I eyed the horse and wrinkled my nose with distaste at the unpleasant odor emanating from the stained gray blanket covering its back before switching my gaze back to the butch dyke who'd ridden to my rescue. She had appeared out of the mist, mounted on an enormous, dark brown beast with evil eyes, with the other horse on a leading rein behind. The woman, who'd introduced herself as Cassie Stuart, sat astride her mount with the easy confidence of someone who shared a close affinity with horses. With cropped dark hair and androgynous clothing, I had almost mistaken her for a man. Only the soft lilt of her voice betrayed her sex. "It's your choice, Ms. Austin." Cassie glanced down to my feet then shrugged. "You either ride Tavish or face a five-mile walk to Auchtercairn." Some choice. My day had started badly and then rapidly nose dived into a total disaster. Leaving me at a loss to understand how I'd ended up in this predicament. One minute I was driving along a discernible mountain road in early evening sunshine and the next... Nothing. Both the view and the road had suddenly disappeared, obscured by a blanket of white mist. I hit the brakes; expecting the car to slow and eventually stop but nothing of the sort happened. Instead Jazzy skidded off the road, gathering speed until it felt like she was flying, before eventually coming to a rest buried up to her axles in a sticky gooey mess of water and mud. I had no idea what damage had been done or how I was going to get her out and back on the road. I shivered as the mist swirled around us. Although barely evening and still daylight, it might easily have been the middle of the night for all I could see. I momentarily regretted abandoning my shoes to the peat bog, but Jimmy Choo's were never designed for a five-mile hike in rough terrain and neither were stocking-clad feet. If I wanted the promised hot bath, some food, and a bed for the night, I'd have to grit my teeth and do it. I nodded agreement and edged closer to the fetid beast, my sense of unreality growing with every step. How the hell does one mount something this tall without a ladder, especially dressed as I am in a tight skirt? "Let me help you up, Bryana." Before I had the opportunity to protest that I'd changed my mind, Cassie freed her feet from the stirrups and sprang from her horse in one graceful movement. Then, in the blink of an eye, she had manipulated me into a position where, with no apparent effort, she hoisted me onto the horse. Without a saddle or stirrups, I was forced to wrap my legs around Tavish and hang onto his long, silky mane as Cassie led the way along the narrow mountain track.