Welcome Today's Featured Author
Katherine Rhodes
BOOKS:
Consensual by Katherine Rhodes
******BLURB******
Book 1 in the Club Imperial Series
From the moment Nathaniel laid eyes on Emmy Westerly, he wanted her in his life. He would do anything to get her there and keep her there. To his surprise, Nathaniel found himself quickly pulled into Emmy’s dark world of whips and blindfolds, kink and submission. He was intrigued not only by the thrill of it, but by the enigma which led Emmy there as well.
Emmy could not resist Nathaniel Walsh. She couldn’t deny the electricity between them, the utter animal magnetism she felt for him. Emmy was mystified by someone as honest and uncomplicated as Nathaniel allowing her to lead him into the dark. She adored having him at the tip of her lash.
But Emmy had secrets - deep, cruel truths which led her to Club Imperial, and staying with Nathaniel would mean telling him everything. He wasn't ready for that.
Neither was she.
** Content Warning: Contains explicit content with BDSM, Erotica, and strong language. Not intended for all audiences. 18+ Audience
Book 1 in the Club Imperial Series
From the moment Nathaniel laid eyes on Emmy Westerly, he wanted her in his life. He would do anything to get her there and keep her there. To his surprise, Nathaniel found himself quickly pulled into Emmy’s dark world of whips and blindfolds, kink and submission. He was intrigued not only by the thrill of it, but by the enigma which led Emmy there as well.
Emmy could not resist Nathaniel Walsh. She couldn’t deny the electricity between them, the utter animal magnetism she felt for him. Emmy was mystified by someone as honest and uncomplicated as Nathaniel allowing her to lead him into the dark. She adored having him at the tip of her lash.
But Emmy had secrets - deep, cruel truths which led her to Club Imperial, and staying with Nathaniel would mean telling him everything. He wasn't ready for that.
Neither was she.
** Content Warning: Contains explicit content with BDSM, Erotica, and strong language. Not intended for all audiences. 18+ Audience
*******Excerpt*******
“Consensual: A Club Imperial Novel, Book 1”
He followed Emmy down the hall to the kitchen, where he found her with her face pressed into the flowers, inhaling deeply. His blood pressure rose as he openly stared at her backside, shapely and firm in the gorgeous blue dress. It was all he could do to keep from walking up to her and cupping that incredible heart-shaped ass in his hands. She had put the two desserts on the breakfast bar, and her coat was tossed over the chair.
With a sigh, she stepped back from the flowers, but didn't turn around. “I never got flowers, ever, and now three times in the past three months.”
“I'll buy you flowers everyday if you want them,” Nathaniel said, walking up behind her and putting his hands on her arms, trailing up and down.
“They make me feel like...” Her voice drifted off. She turned and smiled at him. “Dessert?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. God, no. No. I want to strip you out of this dress, lay you on the couch and have you for dessert.
She walked around him, going to the fridge. “Wine?”
He turned and looked at her. “Actually, do you have a beer?”
She pursed her lips and sighed. “I do, but...”
“But what?”
“I don't have normal beer,” she said. “I don't drink macro-brewed piss water. It's Troeg's Flying Mouflan.”
His jaw dropped. “You know beers?” She nodded. “And you keep Troeg's in the house?”
“It's in rotation,” she said.
“Oh, dear God, marry me.” He laughed.
“I thought you liked wine?” Emmy asked.
“I like good wine just fine, but I'd rather have a beer when I'm not eating at exclusive restaurants,” he said. “I didn't peg you as the kind of woman who would enjoy beer.”
“A good beer can be just as complicated as a good wine,” she said, pulling out two bottles and putting them on the counter. “And you have to know how to pair the flavors and styles with the food. Troeg's is a great after-dinner beer.” She handed him the bottle opener and Nathaniel opened the two bottles as she turned to get the plates for the dessert.
He watched her lean up to grab the plates and her leg popped up off the ground. The shoes looked so incredible on her feet. She had lovely long legs and he found himself dreaming about licking them from her ankles to her pussy. He took a deep breath and stilled himself. Down. Down. Not yet.
She plated the fruit and chocolate desserts and joined him at the table. Looking around, she laughed. “I almost never eat here. I prefer the den.”
He stood from the stool. “Then let's eat there, if that's where you're more comfortable.”
“So agreeable. I like that.” She smiled and hopped back down, leading the way from the kitchen to the den where there was a coffee table for them to put their plates on. Emmy took the over-stuffed chair and with a private note of disappointment, Nathaniel sat on the love seat. She picked up a remote and turned on the sound system. An achingly gorgeous aria wafted out of the speakers, and it took Nathaniel a moment to place it.
“Ach, ich fühl's?” he asked.
“Very good,” she said. “I sang this at one of my recitals. This and Gretchen am Spinnrade are two of my favorite pieces.” She ate a piece of the confection with an unnerving grace.
“You sing too?” he asked. She nodded with her mouthful. “Dear God, Emmy. The cello and a voice?”
“It's not a good voice,” she said. “It's merely adequate.”
“If you can sing Papagena, I don't think you're merely adequate.”
“Well, no one seemed to agree with you.”
Again he could hear the bitterness in her voice, the sound of someone who had been always left behind and ignored by those around her. She had run a business where she had only been an admin for three days. That was not a woman who was incapable, or merely adequate. He cut off a piece of the dessert and chewed it thoughtfully for a minute, letting the voice from the aria fill the room.
“Oh, damn!” Emmy exclaimed. He looked over and found the latest forkful had cascaded down the front of her dress, leaving a huge chocolate and raspberry stain. “Oh, damn.” She put the plate on the table, and stood. “I have to change, I'm sorry.”
“No, no,” he said. “Go get it off before the raspberry sets.”
She walked out of the room to the bathroom just on the other side of the den. “I'm sorry,” she called.
“It's fine, Emmy,” he said, sitting back and taking a sip of the beer.
“I was...going to ask you about Imperial,” she called a moment later.
He shrugged, confused. “What about it?”
“Did you like it?”
“I think I was too pissed at Jillian to really care,” he said. “I saw some things that were intriguing, but...well, I have to consider my place in the community. Mostly, though, I was pissed at Jillian.” He paused. “It was a beautiful building on the inside. If I remember anything from that night, it was that woman...”
“You liked her?”
He shook his head. “What's not to like about leather and lace? But it was more than that. It was the way she walked across that floor, consumed with such fiery anger. She knew who she was and someone had crossed her. She took steps.” He took a sip of the beer. “The outfit was just the icing on the cake.” He took a quick bite of his dessert, and didn't want to think about that woman. She was an untouchable in a place he didn't want to make a habit. And was tainted by Jillian. He turned down his lip.
“Would you go back?” Emmy asked, the question floating down the hall.
“I don't think I will,” he said. “It was kind of a bad ending to a bad week.”
“Never?”
He paused, and looked at Emmy's dessert. “I can't say never,” he replied. “I don't want to think about it right now. It's probably a very nice place for an interesting distraction.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?” Emmy called.
What is going on here? “Emmy, don't tell me you want to go there.” She didn't answer right away and he could feel himself cringing. He heard a heel click on the wood flooring and then another, then two more. She stopped just out of view. “Please, don't tell me you want to go there,” he said.
“Well, no,” she said. “I was just thinking I could bring a bit of that here.”
She stepped out from behind the wall and Nathaniel dropped his fork loudly on to the plate.
“Fuck.” He gasped.
Emmy was wearing the same black silver-button-up boots, black lace and satin outfit, opera gloves and choker. Her hair was now up, and the only things missing were the whip and the crop.
He stared for a long minute, then rose and walked over to her, where she stood, arms folded, waiting for some sort of response from him. He looked straight into her eyes. “It was you. You were there.”
She nodded once. “It was me.”
“Consensual: A Club Imperial Novel, Book 1”
He followed Emmy down the hall to the kitchen, where he found her with her face pressed into the flowers, inhaling deeply. His blood pressure rose as he openly stared at her backside, shapely and firm in the gorgeous blue dress. It was all he could do to keep from walking up to her and cupping that incredible heart-shaped ass in his hands. She had put the two desserts on the breakfast bar, and her coat was tossed over the chair.
With a sigh, she stepped back from the flowers, but didn't turn around. “I never got flowers, ever, and now three times in the past three months.”
“I'll buy you flowers everyday if you want them,” Nathaniel said, walking up behind her and putting his hands on her arms, trailing up and down.
“They make me feel like...” Her voice drifted off. She turned and smiled at him. “Dessert?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. God, no. No. I want to strip you out of this dress, lay you on the couch and have you for dessert.
She walked around him, going to the fridge. “Wine?”
He turned and looked at her. “Actually, do you have a beer?”
She pursed her lips and sighed. “I do, but...”
“But what?”
“I don't have normal beer,” she said. “I don't drink macro-brewed piss water. It's Troeg's Flying Mouflan.”
His jaw dropped. “You know beers?” She nodded. “And you keep Troeg's in the house?”
“It's in rotation,” she said.
“Oh, dear God, marry me.” He laughed.
“I thought you liked wine?” Emmy asked.
“I like good wine just fine, but I'd rather have a beer when I'm not eating at exclusive restaurants,” he said. “I didn't peg you as the kind of woman who would enjoy beer.”
“A good beer can be just as complicated as a good wine,” she said, pulling out two bottles and putting them on the counter. “And you have to know how to pair the flavors and styles with the food. Troeg's is a great after-dinner beer.” She handed him the bottle opener and Nathaniel opened the two bottles as she turned to get the plates for the dessert.
He watched her lean up to grab the plates and her leg popped up off the ground. The shoes looked so incredible on her feet. She had lovely long legs and he found himself dreaming about licking them from her ankles to her pussy. He took a deep breath and stilled himself. Down. Down. Not yet.
She plated the fruit and chocolate desserts and joined him at the table. Looking around, she laughed. “I almost never eat here. I prefer the den.”
He stood from the stool. “Then let's eat there, if that's where you're more comfortable.”
“So agreeable. I like that.” She smiled and hopped back down, leading the way from the kitchen to the den where there was a coffee table for them to put their plates on. Emmy took the over-stuffed chair and with a private note of disappointment, Nathaniel sat on the love seat. She picked up a remote and turned on the sound system. An achingly gorgeous aria wafted out of the speakers, and it took Nathaniel a moment to place it.
“Ach, ich fühl's?” he asked.
“Very good,” she said. “I sang this at one of my recitals. This and Gretchen am Spinnrade are two of my favorite pieces.” She ate a piece of the confection with an unnerving grace.
“You sing too?” he asked. She nodded with her mouthful. “Dear God, Emmy. The cello and a voice?”
“It's not a good voice,” she said. “It's merely adequate.”
“If you can sing Papagena, I don't think you're merely adequate.”
“Well, no one seemed to agree with you.”
Again he could hear the bitterness in her voice, the sound of someone who had been always left behind and ignored by those around her. She had run a business where she had only been an admin for three days. That was not a woman who was incapable, or merely adequate. He cut off a piece of the dessert and chewed it thoughtfully for a minute, letting the voice from the aria fill the room.
“Oh, damn!” Emmy exclaimed. He looked over and found the latest forkful had cascaded down the front of her dress, leaving a huge chocolate and raspberry stain. “Oh, damn.” She put the plate on the table, and stood. “I have to change, I'm sorry.”
“No, no,” he said. “Go get it off before the raspberry sets.”
She walked out of the room to the bathroom just on the other side of the den. “I'm sorry,” she called.
“It's fine, Emmy,” he said, sitting back and taking a sip of the beer.
“I was...going to ask you about Imperial,” she called a moment later.
He shrugged, confused. “What about it?”
“Did you like it?”
“I think I was too pissed at Jillian to really care,” he said. “I saw some things that were intriguing, but...well, I have to consider my place in the community. Mostly, though, I was pissed at Jillian.” He paused. “It was a beautiful building on the inside. If I remember anything from that night, it was that woman...”
“You liked her?”
He shook his head. “What's not to like about leather and lace? But it was more than that. It was the way she walked across that floor, consumed with such fiery anger. She knew who she was and someone had crossed her. She took steps.” He took a sip of the beer. “The outfit was just the icing on the cake.” He took a quick bite of his dessert, and didn't want to think about that woman. She was an untouchable in a place he didn't want to make a habit. And was tainted by Jillian. He turned down his lip.
“Would you go back?” Emmy asked, the question floating down the hall.
“I don't think I will,” he said. “It was kind of a bad ending to a bad week.”
“Never?”
He paused, and looked at Emmy's dessert. “I can't say never,” he replied. “I don't want to think about it right now. It's probably a very nice place for an interesting distraction.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?” Emmy called.
What is going on here? “Emmy, don't tell me you want to go there.” She didn't answer right away and he could feel himself cringing. He heard a heel click on the wood flooring and then another, then two more. She stopped just out of view. “Please, don't tell me you want to go there,” he said.
“Well, no,” she said. “I was just thinking I could bring a bit of that here.”
She stepped out from behind the wall and Nathaniel dropped his fork loudly on to the plate.
“Fuck.” He gasped.
Emmy was wearing the same black silver-button-up boots, black lace and satin outfit, opera gloves and choker. Her hair was now up, and the only things missing were the whip and the crop.
He stared for a long minute, then rose and walked over to her, where she stood, arms folded, waiting for some sort of response from him. He looked straight into her eyes. “It was you. You were there.”
She nodded once. “It was me.”
Broken Bonds Book 2 by Katherine Rhodes
Book 2 continues the Club Imperial Series
After the vicious attack on Emmy, Nathaniel has enlisted the help of his brother and Club Imperial’s owner to make sure her secret life doesn’t make the headlines, or interfere with the justice her attackers deserve. And to make matters worse, Emmy wakes up with absolutely no memory of what she has been through.
Recovering from her injuries at Nathaniel’s sprawling estate, Emmy deals with all of the changes in her world: new friends, a different lifestyle, a new boyfriend and a brand new threat.
With a simple phone call, her past crashes head-long into her present. Her mother suddenly reappears in her life and brings with her all the terrible things she thought she’d left behind. Old scars are ripped open and Emmy’s not sure she can survive the pain again.
She has to let Nathaniel go to protect him from the hell of her past…
But he’s not walking away.
Content Warning: Intended for 18+ Audience, may contain explicit details or scenes.
*****BLURB****
Book 2 continues the Club Imperial Series
After the vicious attack on Emmy, Nathaniel has enlisted the help of his brother and Club Imperial’s owner to make sure her secret life doesn’t make the headlines, or interfere with the justice her attackers deserve. And to make matters worse, Emmy wakes up with absolutely no memory of what she has been through.
Recovering from her injuries at Nathaniel’s sprawling estate, Emmy deals with all of the changes in her world: new friends, a different lifestyle, a new boyfriend and a brand new threat.
With a simple phone call, her past crashes head-long into her present. Her mother suddenly reappears in her life and brings with her all the terrible things she thought she’d left behind. Old scars are ripped open and Emmy’s not sure she can survive the pain again.
She has to let Nathaniel go to protect him from the hell of her past…
But he’s not walking away.
Content Warning: Intended for 18+ Audience, may contain explicit details or scenes.
*****Excerpt*****
The car turned off the road to a paved driveway that disappeared through the trees. They wound through the greenish midday light and the trees disappeared from her side of the car to reveal Nathaniel’s North Hills estate. Her jaw dropped.
There were acres of manicured lawns between them and the house. There was a stand of trees half way there with a pond surrounded by carefully maintained cattails and native grasses that were starting to perk from their winter rest. She thought she saw a spigot in the middle for a fountain.
Beyond was an enormous white and brick Jacobean-style mansion. Three floors tall with huge windows over-looking the lawns, the front door was set back from the driveway, giving the house a u-shape to the front. There was tower—a tower—above the main entrance which rose to a fourth floor. The top of the house was lined with white cement railing and each of the two front wings had a parapet on the corners. She started counting chimneys and finally had to stop at twenty-five. As they drove further, she caught glimpses of the depth of the house, and there were more chimneys she hadn’t seen earlier. All of the windows were three panes wide and seemed to be floor to ceiling. Part of the back of the house looked newer, but had been added on in the style of the original. It had the traditional white puzzle cornering and there was some ivy on one wing, but it was carefully maintained.
Emmy looked at him. “Is there a ballroom?”
“Of course,” he said dismissively.
“You live in this?”
“Quite.” He smiled. “I’ll give you the whole tour when you’re feeling up to it. Your room is in the back overlooking one of the gardens and the pool house.”
“Pool house,” she mumbled. “You have a pool house.” She turned back and pressed her hand to the window. “It looks like Hatfield House.”
With that thought, the pang of loss hit her so hard she had tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized what was going on. It had been years since she had thought about Hatfield House and the sudden realization that it was the last time she saw her father was like a bolt of lightning.
“Oh, my God.” Nathaniel pushed over to put his arm around her. “What’s wrong? Holy crap, please stop crying.”
She tried, she really did. But she couldn’t stop the gasps and hiccups that went along with the emotion. She looked at him. “You want to know more about me? The last time I saw my father was at Hatfield House outside of London. We were there for a benefit to try and save the Ukrainian Symphony Orchestra. He was there with Sarinya and had just proposed to her. I left the next day to go back to Boston, and he was killed in a car accident three months later, after playing out the season with the London Symphony. They were going to see Sarinya’s family for holiday, and he never made it.”
He just held her a moment while letting her cry. “I’m so sorry, Emmy.”
“I didn’t think a stupid house could do this to me,” she said, smearing the tears away indelicately. “I mean, I like your house, I just didn’t think it was going to make me think of my dad and get me all worked up like this.”
“You have had a very traumatic two weeks, Em.” He tried to console her. “I suspect most anything will set you off.”
“I hate being emotional,” she hiccupped.
“I can’t imagine why.” He smiled at her.
She smiled back, starting to feel a little more balanced. “You have a beautiful house.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He lowered his voice and continued, “But you can’t go in the West Wing.”
“Why not,” she asked, confused.
“Because that’s where I keep my secret magical rose.” He laughed. “And sometimes the teapots talk.”
Emmy giggled. “So you’re telling me this is a reverse fairytale castle? What does that make Quinn? Or you for that matter?”
“I’m a handsome equine.”
“Oh, so you’re full of horses hit.”
The car turned off the road to a paved driveway that disappeared through the trees. They wound through the greenish midday light and the trees disappeared from her side of the car to reveal Nathaniel’s North Hills estate. Her jaw dropped.
There were acres of manicured lawns between them and the house. There was a stand of trees half way there with a pond surrounded by carefully maintained cattails and native grasses that were starting to perk from their winter rest. She thought she saw a spigot in the middle for a fountain.
Beyond was an enormous white and brick Jacobean-style mansion. Three floors tall with huge windows over-looking the lawns, the front door was set back from the driveway, giving the house a u-shape to the front. There was tower—a tower—above the main entrance which rose to a fourth floor. The top of the house was lined with white cement railing and each of the two front wings had a parapet on the corners. She started counting chimneys and finally had to stop at twenty-five. As they drove further, she caught glimpses of the depth of the house, and there were more chimneys she hadn’t seen earlier. All of the windows were three panes wide and seemed to be floor to ceiling. Part of the back of the house looked newer, but had been added on in the style of the original. It had the traditional white puzzle cornering and there was some ivy on one wing, but it was carefully maintained.
Emmy looked at him. “Is there a ballroom?”
“Of course,” he said dismissively.
“You live in this?”
“Quite.” He smiled. “I’ll give you the whole tour when you’re feeling up to it. Your room is in the back overlooking one of the gardens and the pool house.”
“Pool house,” she mumbled. “You have a pool house.” She turned back and pressed her hand to the window. “It looks like Hatfield House.”
With that thought, the pang of loss hit her so hard she had tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized what was going on. It had been years since she had thought about Hatfield House and the sudden realization that it was the last time she saw her father was like a bolt of lightning.
“Oh, my God.” Nathaniel pushed over to put his arm around her. “What’s wrong? Holy crap, please stop crying.”
She tried, she really did. But she couldn’t stop the gasps and hiccups that went along with the emotion. She looked at him. “You want to know more about me? The last time I saw my father was at Hatfield House outside of London. We were there for a benefit to try and save the Ukrainian Symphony Orchestra. He was there with Sarinya and had just proposed to her. I left the next day to go back to Boston, and he was killed in a car accident three months later, after playing out the season with the London Symphony. They were going to see Sarinya’s family for holiday, and he never made it.”
He just held her a moment while letting her cry. “I’m so sorry, Emmy.”
“I didn’t think a stupid house could do this to me,” she said, smearing the tears away indelicately. “I mean, I like your house, I just didn’t think it was going to make me think of my dad and get me all worked up like this.”
“You have had a very traumatic two weeks, Em.” He tried to console her. “I suspect most anything will set you off.”
“I hate being emotional,” she hiccupped.
“I can’t imagine why.” He smiled at her.
She smiled back, starting to feel a little more balanced. “You have a beautiful house.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He lowered his voice and continued, “But you can’t go in the West Wing.”
“Why not,” she asked, confused.
“Because that’s where I keep my secret magical rose.” He laughed. “And sometimes the teapots talk.”
Emmy giggled. “So you’re telling me this is a reverse fairytale castle? What does that make Quinn? Or you for that matter?”
“I’m a handsome equine.”
“Oh, so you’re full of horses hit.”
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