Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Review of Under the Sun

Under the Sun
by Jude Ouvrard


Tracey Howard has put her life on hold for years to care for her grandmother. Now that her grandmother is gone, Tracey decides to spend the summer at the beach and reflect on where she wants to take her life next. Jackson Phillips is her new neighbor, and he dazzles her from the first moment they meet. Will Jackson be able to show Tracey how to let go of old pain and embrace future happiness?


If you are looking for a romantic quick read, Under the Sun is for you. Using a romantic setting by the beach, Ouvrard starts us off on this journey when Tracey heads to a cabin left to her by her grandmother who had passed away recently. Emotions are still raw and Ouvrard does a great job of bringing those feelings to the reader. I found myself tearing up several times as Tracey recalled memories of caring for her grandmother with Alzheimer's and then about their final moments together. The melancholy feel of the story dissipates when Jackson, the man next door, is introduced. They begin a journey together that gives them both a second chance at life.

While reading I found the pace at which their feeling developed to be a bit quick, but overall I enjoyed the fast pace of the tale. There was no angsty drama keeping them apart nor any dramatic set backs in their relationship. There weren't many love scenes, but the ones that were present were just that, full of love. They were romantic without being graphically detailed. I enjoyed how Ouvrard while in the middle of the romantic courtship brought us back to the feelings of loss and moving on. The story also ended without a cliffhanger giving a feeling of closure for the reader.

For this quick summer read set on the beach, I'll give it 4 out of five sandcastles.

NJ Cole

Buy it here:

Monday, August 5, 2013

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Landslide-ebook/dp/B00EBYNSZU/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1375664014&sr=8-3&keywords=landslide+nj+cole


Senator Maxwell Joseph has it all—money, power, and good looks—the trifecta when it comes to attracting the ladies. He even has women willing to be tied up, spanked, and completely at his mercy, all while calling him Daddy, fulfilling his secret fantasy. On the night of his thirty-fifth birthday, Max finds a goddess waiting for him in his hotel room. She is beautiful, sexy, and very willing, yet the fruit she offers is very forbidden. Not only is she barely legal at nineteen, but she also happens to be the daughter of his best friend and political advisor.

Mackenzie Wade has had a crush on the senator for years. When an overheard phone call affords her the opportunity she needs to make her fantasies a reality, Kenzie jumps at the chance, offering herself as a birthday gift.

Throwing caution to the wind, Max gives in to temptation and gives them both what they have been yearning for—a night filled with ropes, floggers, and toe-curling sex. Although satiated, one night of passion isn’t enough for either of them, and they begin a clandestine affair.  

For Maxwell, the solid ground on which he’s built his career starts to shift as his hopes and dreams for the future begin to change. In what can only be described as a landslide, Max holds on tight to the only thing that he can—Kenzie. He goes on the ride of his life, knowing all along that in the end, he may have to make a gut-wrenching decision between the woman of his dreams and a path to the White House.


Opening the door to the suite, I found a beautiful creature in my bed with the hottest body I’d ever seen. She was wearing white thigh highs, a short plaid skirt, and a white top. It was a classic school girl outfit and I loved it. Everything about her was perfect, but everything about her was wrong.
“Mackenzie! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m giving you your birthday present, Senator Joseph.”

The way she said my name made my dick rock hard again.

“Mackenzie, this is completely inappropriate.”

“Who gives a fuck if it’s appropriate or not,” she said, rubbing her thighs together. “And I know you want me. I saw how you were looking at me earlier. I even know what you’re into.”

My stomach dropped. Could she mean she knew about my sexual preferences? “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I know. I overheard my father talking once.” She got off the bed and walked over to me, her eyes never leaving mine as she crossed the room. She grabbed hold of my tie and began running her fingers over it. “I know exactly what you are into, Senator Joseph.”

“Mackenzie, you’re whatsixteen years old?” I questioned, grabbing her wrist and removing her hand from my tie.

“Sixteen? You sent me a graduation present last year,” she laughed. “I’m nineteen. My birthday was just last week.”

She was legal. I’m sure she said more, but all I heard was that she was nineteen. I had also caught something else she said a moment ago. She’d mentioned that she knew what I was “into,” and I needed to know what she meant.

“What is it you think I’m into?” I asked with more authority than I felt at that moment.

“You like to tie up little girls and fuck them. Isn’t that right, Senator?”

Her words made my dick twitch. The summary wasn’t exactly accurate; I didn’t like actual little girls, just women in their early twenties who were willing to dress up for my fantasies. What I gathered from her statement, though, was that she wasn’t repulsed; she sounded excited at the thought.

There were a million reasons I shouldn’t do this. She was barely legal. She was the daughter of my top advisor…and best friend. I wasn’t prepared. We didn’t have any sort of contract. I had no clue what her limits were. It just seemed wrong, yet all of that flew out the window when she looked up at me and licked her lips.

“Don’t you wanna tie me up and fuck me, Senator Joseph?”

Consequences be damned. I wasn’t thinking with my head, I was thinking with my dick. And my dick wanted her. “On your knees, little girl,” I commanded harshly.

She dropped to the floor instantly; when she did, I walked around her and pulled her hands behind her back. “So you want to be tied up? To offer yourself to me? To please me?”

“Yes,” she panted.

“Yes, what?” I asked, removing my tie.

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned.

“Yes, Daddy,” I corrected.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Friday, May 24, 2013

Release Day Promotion

Release Day Promotion

OK, so here is the May 28th release day promotion. If you buy the book on May 28th I will send a postcard of the cover of Midnight Caller to any address you provide me. I will write a short note on the postcard and sign it. It's the best I can do since an autographed copy isn't possible for ebooks :)

Here's what you need to do:

1. Purchase a copy, either ebook or paperback, on May 28th. (one day only)

2. take a screen shot of your receipt, or forward it, or copy and past part of it, or in some way show me that you purchased on May 28th.

3. email it to njcolepromotions@gmail.com

4. Tell me who you would me like to make it out to. For example, if your facebook name and gmail name is something like Fanfic Reader... you don't want me to write it to, Dear Fanfic Reader, ..lol.. say, make it out to Sue.  Also, since it is a post card, it won't come in an envelope. Make sure you're alright with the cover arriving at your house. Let me know if I can be creative with my note or if I should keep it PG.

Any questions you can message me on fb or at njcolepromotions@gmail.com


Sunday, May 19, 2013

Chapter 1 Midnight Caller

Chapter 1

I’d been watching her for weeks now; stalking her, if you will. After all, she was my prey. Her body, her mind—my quarry. I knew it was just a matter of time before I would claim this woman as mine, and what’s more, she would beg me to take her.
Though I hadn’t been looking for another woman in my life, she caught my attention anyway.
I watched her every move—twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I watched her at home, at work and, of course, I watched her at play.
She was beautiful, with her light brown hair that cascaded in waves to the center of her back. She had an amazing body, but what had really caught my attention was her almond shaped eyes. Even from a distance, I could see tiny flecks of what looked like gold dust in her dark brown orbs. It wasn’t the color that caught my attention, nor her lashes, which were extraordinarily long and full. What caught my attention was the way she kept her eyes downcast, showing me that above all else, Rebecca Summers was a natural submissive.
It was easy for me to observe her. You might think I was a disgusting pervert, preying on an innocent girl like that—a predator even. You would be right. I am a predator, lethal in every way, and I’m not even human.
At six foot two, with coffee colored hair and eyes that have been described as the color of root beer popsicles, I appeared harmless. My body was perfectly conditioned, but not so bulky as to alarm people. Like males of most species, I was attractive. In my case, though, I used it as a weapon to draw in unsuspecting victims.
My vision—superior both in the daytime and at night—let me see things clearly, even at a distance. It allowed me to observe Rebecca most nights from my apartment in the building across the street. Sometimes I even listened to her from the balcony of her apartment, hidden from view, though I didn’t like it when I couldn’t see her.
She caught my attention one night while I was looking out my window. The entire western wall of her high-rise apartment was made of glass, allowing anyone to see in. She had been lying on her bed, nude, pleasuring herself. Sure, she kept the lights off in her apartment so that no one could really see her, but that sense of voyeurism had me captivated. I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
After some research I learned a bit more about her. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that she worked at a company owned by my family. Under the guise of wanting to work there I was able to observe her more.
I scrutinized the way she would interact with her co-workers. She always did as she was told, and although she was clearly intelligent and very competent at her job, she seemed to be content to follow her boss’ every instruction, never making waves—even when it was warranted.
I continued to observe her and was pleased to see that this was also true in her life outside of work. She was independent and lived on her own—without a roommate—but instead of living a wild life of a single woman in her twenties, publicly, she followed all of the rules, right down to waiting for the walk signal when crossing a street. In the privacy of her apartment was a different matter.
Privately, she was confident, sexual and wild. I wanted nothing more than to have her at my feet. The information I’d gathered changed her from being a person of interest into the woman that I wanted to have submit to me.
I couldn’t wait to have her...and I would. There was just one small thing to take care of first—one small blonde thing.
Gretchen was, in theory, the perfect sub. She never made a mistake, never said no, never called ‘red’.
It’s not that I wanted a sub to call red, but no matter what I did, Gretchen’s response was the same. She never showed nervousness or fear. She took everything I had to give and more. I had spanked her so hard I had left imprints on her ass and thighs, which, though they healed quickly, were very painful. I had fucked her once for over twenty-four hours without even a whimper. She was perfect, too perfect, and that was why I needed someone else, someone new—someone human.
It wasn’t like I just threw Gretchen away. I’d done this before, though I had to admit, it had been a while since a human had caught my attention. Although she wasn’t my collared sub, Gretchen was as close as I had. She had been faithful to me, and as her Dom, I wanted to make sure that her needs were cared for.
After picking her up, I brought her to a BDSM club downtown that had a separate floor used by my kind. The air inside smelled of sex, human sex. The odor of excitement mixed with fear aroused me and served to reinforce my reason for being here.
“Off,” I commanded, nodding to the long, grey coat she wore. She peeled it off immediately, revealing a leather bra and matching thong, both adorned with silver studs.
“On your knees.”
She dropped instantly, as she always did.
I removed a black leather collar from my pocket, clipped it around her neck and attached the matching leash. I didn’t usually put a collar on my submissives, as they knew that when they were in my presence they belonged to me and were to serve me always. There was nothing special about this collar. I’d used it before on several submissives. It wasn’t a symbol of a deep commitment; it was simply to signify that she was my property.
I didn’t do relationships, and I’d given up long ago on finding my mate. I had submissives to use as I wanted, to play with, to control. The only yearning I had for a woman was to have her serve me.
I’d never been a monogamous Dom; taking a submissive when I wanted was my prerogative. In the past when I’d had a human submissive, I’d had one of my race as well. It allowed me to find sexual release by fucking her after a night of flogging the human’s ass.
I would have kept Gretchen just for that purpose, but I knew that she wanted more. I could tell that she wanted a permanent collar, and that was just something I didn’t do.
 Eventually, I figured that I’d have to replace Gretchen, but I didn’t want to think about that now. For now, I wanted to focus on tonight and making sure she was cared for. Hopefully, if all went well, we would both be on our way to getting what we wanted—Gretchen would get a Dom who was willing to collar her, and I would be free to pursue my relationship with butterfly.
I looked down at her in her inspection pose as she waited for permission to greet me. I nodded once, and she placed herself in a prone position, almost as if she were praying. She kissed the tops of each of my shoes and sat back up, waiting for her instructions.
“Good girl,” I said, patting her head. “Now rise, it’s time.”
She knew where we were going. We had talked about it earlier in the week when I told her I had wanted to end our arrangement. Tonight, I was presenting her to a new Dom. If they were both agreeable, I would be handing her over to him to care for and see to her needs.
Nodding to the doorman, I asked, “Where’s Ian?”
“Room six,” he replied after looking in the book.
I headed down the hall with Gretchen trailing from the end of the leash, her eyes down as a perfect sub should.
After knocking, I was greeted with a gruff, “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal a man, muscular in build, with the upper half of his body in stockades. Ian had him by his hips and was thrusting hard into his ass. I recognized the man as Vincent. I’d seen him around the club on occasion, though never in a submissive role, and I had to assume Ian was training him to be a Dom.
“Oliver,” Ian said, pulling out of Vincent and walking over to me, his dick bobbing with every step. He extended his hand.
Shaking it, I replied, “Ian.”
He glanced at Gretchen and then at me. “Is this her?” At my nod, he spoke again. “And you’re sure about this?”
“Yes,” I answered, not elaborating any further.
He turned to Gretchen. “Well, let me see you, little slut. Get in your inspection pose.”
When she looked to me for permission, I nodded.
She quickly took off her bra and panties and knelt on the floor—legs spread wide, chest out, head down. Ian walked around her, looking at her closely, touching her at times. He reached between her legs and pulled back a wet hand. “Such an eager little whore, aren’t you?” The question was rhetorical and Gretchen, of course, did not answer. I knew from our previous talks, however, that the possibility of finding a Dom who would permanently collar her was exactly what she was looking for.
He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them. “She’s delicious, Oliver. Are you sure you’re willing to give her up?”
“Yes,” I answered again, looking at Gretchen whose eyes were downcast. “Look at me,” I commanded, pleased when her eyes snapped to mine at once.
“We’ve talked about this, about your need to be dominated. Is this what you want? Are you willing to serve Ian as well as you have served me? Speak.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, her eyes dropping back to the ground.
Satisfied that she was willing to serve him, I turned my gaze to Ian. “She has agreed to a one week trial period to ensure compatibility. If things do not work out, she understands that she is on her own in finding a new Dom. Thank you for your willingness to help with this.” With that, I handed him the end of her leash. He took it with a nod and turned to Gretchen.
“Alright, slut, you belong to me now. Slut will be your name until I can think of something more suitable for you. Now, I want you to position yourself under pig over there.” He pointed at Vincent. “Do you know why I named him pig?” he asked me as Gretchen quickly situated herself under Vincent.
“Why?” I asked, moderately curious.
“Because the first session I had with him, he squealed like a pig when I fucked his ass. Do you know how amazing it is to emasculate a man in that way? To shoot your come into his ass, or down his throat?”
I shook my head. I’d have to take his word for it, as I had no intentions of ‘emasculating’ a man.
“And he gives the best blowjobs. You want him to give you one? As kind of a thank you for giving me your slut.”
“No, thanks,” I said, trying to be polite. Call me old-fashioned, and I know that’s ironic given what I like to do, but I don’t think I could ever come from a man giving me a blowjob.
Ian had already moved to stand back behind Vincent, positioning his cock at his asshole.  “Slut, I hope you are good at blowjobs, because the rest of your night is going to depend on how well you can give one.”
Gretchen nodded.
“You will try to make pig come, and if you do, you will be rewarded. He will try to control himself, and if he does, he will be rewarded. The person who fails will be punished. Do you understand?”
They both nodded.
“Good, you have until I come, slut, now get working.” He smiled at me and thrust into Vincent. “Are you sure you don’t want that blowjob?” he asked again.
While part of me was curious as to how this contest would play out, and how Gretchen would do, I had plans for the evening. Big plans.
“I’ve got to get going,” I said truthfully. It was getting dark, and I had somewhere I wanted to be. I set the envelope with Gretchen’s limits that he and I had gone over a few days before on the table near the door. With a nod to Ian, I turned to exit the room.
I gave one last glance at Gretchen, who was already sucking on Vincent in earnest. Her cheeks were hollowed out and she had him in balls deep. He’d better have some serious self-control or he was definitely going to lose this challenge. After all, she was perfect, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I had made the right decision.
No, I reassured myself, this was what I wanted. I didn’t want perfect. I needed my playthings to make mistakes. Human mistakes.
I made it back to my apartment in plenty of time. Tonight began just like the others, but I knew it was going to end differently. Tonight I was going to make contact. Tonight, she was going to know I existed.
I sat down on a leather chair in front of my large living room window and watched her nightly routine, cock in hand. Once she climbed into bed, I began to stroke myself slowly.
I loved how she always fucked herself with her curtains open, giving the world a show, and tonight was no different. She was wearing just a t-shirt, no panties. Even from this distance, and through the glass, I could see how wet she already was.
I felt myself harden as she let her legs fall apart.
Her fingers found her swollen pussy and began rubbing slow circles, gently teasing her clit. Her head fell back and her breathing increased.
I loved to observe her when she was like this.
Her hips moved in time with her fingers. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before she became rougher with herself.
As if on cue, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Her dark hair cascaded down to take the place of the discarded garment, settling over her breasts and veiling her pink peaks. She brought a hand up, brushed the strands aside and tugged on her nipple.
Her eyelids fluttered and lowered, hiding her caramel colored eyes behind thick lashes. I watched, never blinking, as she increased her pace and brought herself to orgasm. It was beautiful the way her body unfolded, feet tucked up to her ass, knees falling to the sides. I loved the way they moved up and down, like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. I began to think of her as butterfly the first time I had seen her pleasuring herself.
She arched her back, oblivious to my spying eyes, and met her climax with a shudder. I found my own release at that moment and wondered what it would be like to feel that pleasure while coming all over her body. That could only happen if she knew I existed, and tonight she would.
You would be surprised at how easy it was to find personal information on someone when you had a small amount of information, the internet, and a bit of money.
Her driver’s license described her as five-foot-five inches, 115 pounds with brown hair and brown eyes. That official document did her no justice. What it failed to mention was that, though not tall, her legs were long and toned, her breasts were ample for a girl her size, and her hair that was identified as “brown” had strands in it that looked like gold when the sun hit it just right.
The document also described her as “white,” which was completely untrue. As a professional who worked in an office building, her complexion was on the paler side—more of a creamy ivory that resembled porcelain, than “white.” And, if the few photos I’d found of her on a social networking site of a trip she’d taken to Florida were any indication, her skin turned to a golden bronze if given the opportunity.
Rebecca Ann Summers was twenty-seven-years-old. She’d attended The Chicago Institute of Design, graduated with a GPA of 3.8, and immediately began working at Voltz Games. She lived in a one-bedroom apartment on the fourteenth floor of a twenty-six story apartment building in Chicago. She was an only child, and her favorite flavor of yogurt was strawberry banana.
Of course, I also knew her social security number, family and job history, and had access to her medical records through the personnel files at our company. Among a multitude of other things, I had her phone number, as well.
Rebecca was unusual for a person her age because she had both a cell phone and a land line—tonight I was calling her landline. Picking up the phone, I dialed the numbers I had committed to memory. I watched as she climbed from the bed and answered the phone. Though I’d already had my number blocked, I loved that she didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID.
“Hello,” she said, still out of breath from her orgasm.
“That was beautiful, butterfly.”
I hung up the phone without saying any more.
She looked around the apartment quickly and then out the window. I followed with my eyes as she walked towards the large pane of glass and stared out into the night. The lights were off in my apartment, and I knew that she couldn’t see in, but I was sure that many of the lights would still be on in the other apartments in my building, drawing her attention.
She shrugged and headed back to bed, apparently dismissing the call. I continued to observe her until her breathing slowed and she was asleep.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Midnight Caller to be released May 28, 2013

Rebecca Summers enjoys pleasing herself with the curtains open. That is, until a mysterious man calls to tell her that he is watching. Her fantasy becomes reality as she begins to perform for this stranger, following his instructions over the phone while he watches from afar. Rebecca’s world is turned upside down when finally they meet and she enters into a D/s relationship with her Midnight Caller.

Purchase details to follow!