Mia Jae

2011-09-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

Hi. This is Mia.

Before you make one more click into my site, I want you to know that everything within is intended for adults -- that means, everything here is written for people who are over the age of 18 years.

If you are 18 and over, you are welcome to join me and learn more about my writing.

If you are under the age of 18, please go away. Click out of the site now. And go wash your hands before dinner. Your mama is callin'.

And even if you are over the age of 18, it's entirely possible that you may find content within that you find questionable. Just know this -- it's your view of questionable and not that of many others. You click further, it's your choice. I'm giving you fair warning.

I write erotic romance and erotica. My stories are highly sexual in nature, and sometimes include BDSM elements, menage and multiple partners, and same sex relationships. I think they are all beautiful stories, one and all.

You click? Your choice. Welcome to my world.

Click HERE to enter and see my books.

My Books

2011-09-01T19:48:00.000-07:00

Coming in January 2012, School Rules

Now Available

I Betcha I Don't I Want

I Don't

2011-09-01T18:56:00.000-07:00

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I Don't
Book Two, in Bachlorette Party 101

Lainie Wells will get married. She will, she will, she will. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Her life will be perfect. Bleh, bleh, bleh.

Thoroughly confused and utterly disgusted with herself, and life in general, she’s resigned to impending marriage (and a fantastic bachelorette party). Besides, her sister Mary Kate has everything planned and her father has footed an astronomical bill.

She will, she will, she will.

And she keeps saying that all the way up to the point where, in a moment of boredom, she ditches the party to escape to a place where she always felt like herself—the gay bar down the street—and where she hooks up with an old best friend José, and her ex-lover, Simon, who takes the stage during the drag show, links gazes with her and won’t let go.

Suddenly, “I do” feels more like “I don’t”…unless she ends up saying “I do” to what both José and Simon have to offer.

Now at Amazon . Resplendence Publishing . Barnes and Noble . All Romance Ebooks.

I Betcha

2011-03-29T16:23:00.000-07:00

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The Bachelorette Party 101 Series!

I Betcha

Now available at Resplendence Publishing.
Amazon Kindle . All Romance ebooks

Mary Kate Wells refuses to admit that she’s innocent. She has had sex, she’s here to tell you. But the truth is, when Johnny the Stripper calls the day of the bachelorette party to confirm his appointment later that night, the sound of his voice saying, “Hi, Mary. My name is Johnny, and I’ll be your stripper this evening,” jerks her libido into full-speed ahead like nothing she’s ever felt before. And then when Johnny arrives with his twin brother Shawn at his side, the fire in her gut can only be put out by one thing—no wait, two. In her ear she hears her sister chiming, “I betcha won’t, I betcha won’t.” And determined to be her own woman, she bets she will.

Chapter One

So here’s the thing. I’m not that innocent, not really. I mean, I’ve had sex before. I graduated college, right? I’ve been to spring break in Florida. I frequented fraternity parties. I’ve drank more than my share of Purple Passion hooch and ended up waking the next morning in some frat guy’s bed—without my shirt.

And panties.

Yeah, me, Mary Kate Wells, naked in some guy’s bed.

Well, twice.

The first time I won’t talk about. The second time, well….

Well, the guy wasn’t there. He’d slept on the couch in the next room. How was I to know, actually, what happened while I was passed out?

I won’t even mention that the guy was Brent Sollars, who grew up just down the street from me in the Highlands section of Louisville. We even went to the same Catholic school. Once in seventh grade, he tried to kiss me.

I pushed back and glared at him, threatened to tell Sister Angeline (our teacher), and that was the end of Brent Sollars’ crush on me. So, the fact that I’d slept passed-out drunk all night in his bed, without my shirt and panties, probably wasn’t saying much at all.

Still, it was sort of risqué and he had made that comment about my perky titties the next day in Psych class, so maybe he’d snuck a peek, or even copped a feel…who knows?

I wonder if I had fun?

The deal is, I’m telling you this because my older sister, Lainie, thinks I’m the world’s most pristine, squeaky-clean kind of girl. And she’s really uncertain whether or not I can actually pull off the most fantabulous near-skanky, but leaning toward upscale, bachelorette party ever this side of the Ohio River. Lainie, of course, is the bride.

And she wants it all—sexy, raunchy, wild and completely undone—but in a very tasteful and respectable manner, of course.

I am here to tell the world that I can pull this thing off.

After all, I hired the stripper. Over the Internet.

And I went to the adult novelty store over in the south side of town and bought the big red suckers that have “Lick Me” written on them, the pocket pussy gag gift, and the penis straws.

Oh, and I actually made the penis cake. Put that food science degree to good use, I did. I found a recipe on the Internet that provided explicit instructions for how to add the cream so it would shoot out the tip just right, with the first slice of the knife. I had a difficult time finding just the exact pinkish, flesh-toned shade of fondant that I needed, but finally did—on the Internet, too. It was awesome. I even made a test cake the week before to make sure it would work.

It did.

I nearly had an orgasm myself while I was making it.

I mean, food and sex, well… I really dig the two, and together. Wow! Pow. Slam. Bam. And thank you, ma’am. I’m an orgasmic mess.

So really, I can pull this off. Lainie has only given me one huge stipulation with this party. Okay, well, two. It has to make the news—in a positive way (and Lainie always has to be shown in her best light), and we have to keep the bad pics off Facebook (you know, because of our grandmother, who recently discovered the whole social networking thing).

Now, the party. It’s later tonight, and since my sister, at twenty-five years of age, remains a young Louisvillian socialite—I mean, really and truly a Southern Belle debutante of the first order—this party is a huge deal. Huge! She was U of L Homecoming Queen, a Derby Princess for two years straight, and attended the Barnstable-Brown Derby Party on several occasions (where she actually met Brad Pitt in 2008).

Me? I’m more of a line-dancing, margarita girl. I mean, I love to dress up and all that, but big fancy, la-de-da socialite crowds get to me. Give me jeans and tequila any day. Or a Bud Light with lime.

Lainie has done everything letter perfect her entire life. Now, she owns this upscale jewelry shop downtown, located in the historic Seelbach Hotel, where we are actually having the bachelorette party in a few hours.
That’s where we will start anyway.

We’ve got this huge suite reserved—so we can get dressed and ready for the party, have a few drinks and a little pre-party fun (enter the stripper) and then go out on the town—4th Street Live, and Theater Square Marketplace, and then Connection, you know, for the drag show—and come back and crash after the party and drink some more.

Because we all do plan to get drunk. Some of us might even get laid. Who knows?

All I know is that I have the penis cake and a couple of boxes of condoms just in case.

Always the girl ever at the ready, that’s me.

***

Coming in 2011, books two and three in The Bachelorette Party 101 Series

I Don't
I Want

See my 4 Star Review at Sizzling Hot Books Reviews!

Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe (2)

2010-09-01T22:12:00.000-07:00

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Four erotic holiday stories guaranteed to heat up your cold winter nights...

Bound by Tinsel by Melinda Barron When BBW court reporter, Fallon Nichols, decides to moonlight as a phone sex artist, she's surprised by her feelings for her dominant customer, Mr. X. Can she maintain a professional distance, or will Mr. X's determination and a bit of tinsel wrap her up for good?

Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties by Mia Jae Bree Connor thinks she's volunteered to be a cocktail waitress at a benefit party for the homeless, until the end of the night when she gets auctioned off to the highest bidder. Her buyer? The the partner of the man Bree had an unforgettable sexual encounter with a few months earlier, and has been avoiding all evening. Oh, what a tinseled web we weave...

Ribbons Not Included by Demi Alex It's Christmas, and I'm searching for the perfect present to convince Christian that he's my number one priority. I'm trying everything to spice up our love life-- from sexy lingerie, to new positions, to different locations. But then he pushes me too far. I shiver with the thrill of being exposed, really exposed, I'm not sure I can do it.

The Elves and I by Catrina Calloway Spoiled heiress, Marni Sands, figures she can maneuver out of her court-ordered community service in Christmas Town. That is, until she meets three sexy elves who want to change her life forever...

Get yours at Amazon.

Cuffed, Again

2010-06-11T14:29:00.000-07:00

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Cuffed, Again
by Mia Jae

Available now at Resplendence Publishing
www.resplendencepublishing.com

Cerise Thacker is in trouble. Her Chief Financial Officer is cooking her books. The detective working her case fears the guy’s family will come after her, particularly, since the CFO states he will “fucking see to her death.” So, under duress, she’s whisked away in a Yellow Cab into a short-term protection program to keep her safe. The cabbie? Isaac Walker, undercover cop. For the duration, Isaac is her protector, even though protection is the last thing she wants.

Isaac knows he’s in trouble, too. He and Cerise are no strangers. They’d shared a role play domme/sub encounter about a year earlier, neither of them revealing who they were. Now, thrust together in a situation of extreme danger and passion, Isaac must remain in control of the situation at all costs, even though he so very much wants to give it up to Cerise.

And Cerise, must do everything that he says to the letter, even if she doesn't want to. That is, if they want to get out of this thing alive.

Excerpt:

Cerise admired the specimen standing before her. Naked. His back to her. His wrists bound and shackled to the bedroom wall he faced.

The man’s cocoa-brown skin shone with a thin film of perspiration. He smelled of sweet bourbon, lust, and testosterone. She studied his profile in admiration. High cheekbones, deep-set brown eyes, chiseled jaw, full lips. His body was devoid of hair, smooth as silk, including his head. She wondered if he shaved it or if he was naturally bald. She put him in his late thirties, maybe forty, and he was in good shape.

Yes. He was in very good shape. Her gaze trailed down his muscled back, his triangle torso, and his firm buttocks, high and well defined.

If only she could get her ass that high. More Pilates. She’d tell her personal trainer to work her harder.

She was now wearing only the bustier, a black thong, and the boots. She had added a few accessories, as well—black leather-studded cuffs on her wrists, a black and pearl studded choker around her neck. Her hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, trailing down her back. She’d donned him with cuffs as well, making a game of it. He’d laughed until she’d told him that she was shackling him to the wall. Of course, he outweighed her by a hundred-and-fifty pounds, or more, she suspected. He could have pushed her out of the way and said the hell with it.

But he didn’t. He allowed her to shackle his wrists to the wall while he wore nothing but a wicked smile.

“What you propose to do with me, boss lady,” he had said.

She narrowed her gaze and looked him straight in the eye. “Anything I want.”

He chuckled, and she walked away. That’s when she’d left him to draw herself a bath. A hot, steamy bath. With bubbles. She’d lingered long in the tub, admiring the buck-naked view of the man through her bathroom door. He glanced behind him occasionally but couldn’t fully turn to see her.

“You about ready, boss lady?”

“No.”

“Getting kind of tired standing here.”

“You’ll live.”

“You gonna make me wait all night?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, I just—”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t say another word.

Wait for it, sweet. Yes. In due time.

* * *

Get Cuffed, Again, at Resplendence Publishing.

Coming soon to Amazon Kindle, All Romance eBooks, Fictionwise and more...

Don't Tempt Me from Chance Encounters

2010-03-06T12:12:00.000-08:00

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From, Don't Tempt Me
An erotic short story from the collection Chance Encounters by Mia Jae

Now Available!
www.resplendencepublishing.com
www.amazon.com

I pushed away, “Back off. I’m stressed, okay? Let’s just share this cab and be done with it.”

He nuzzled closer and I could smell the musk of his aftershave. Dammit, but that smell was drawing me in. “I could fix that, you know,” he whispered, “the stress thing? I’m good.”

He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “I have great hands, or so I’ve been told, and long, caressing fingers…”

I jerked back. “I don’t have time for this chit-chat sexy banter. I don’t know you.”

“You could.”

“I don’t want to know you.”

“Name’s Mitch.”

“You already said that.”

“And yours?”

I smirked. “None of your business.”

“Okay, so I’ll call you…Gina. No. No, that’s not it. Grace. I’ll call you Grace.”

I about bit my tongue. Grace. What the hell? Was it stamped on my forehead or something? Time to look back at the rain. The city sped by. He kept talking.

No way. Fluke. Lucky guess.

After a moment, I felt pressure on my thigh and looked down to see his hand gently laid there. Unfortunately, my skirt had ridden up past mid-thigh. He slipped a finger under a garter.

I whirled. “What are you doing?”

Laughing, he said, “You haven’t pushed my hand away yet.”

Glancing down, I realized that no, I hadn’t. Then slowly, he began a light massage toward my inner thigh.

“We’ve got ten more minutes till the Hamilton, Grace,” he whispered, leaning closer, “I certainly don’t mind de-stressing you…”

My heart raced. He was an attractive man and I’d had one helluva day. I needed to be on my game in about twenty minutes and right now, I wasn’t quite sure what my game was. My mind was always open to the possibilities when it came to sex, but at this moment? It had been a few weeks since I had been, um, de-stressed...

It was only fingers, right? He just wanted to feel me up. And in ten minutes, I’d never see him again. Not to mention feel energized.

Maybe I needed a short distraction.

“Don’t tempt me,” I whispered. I’m vulnerable, I wanted to say, but didn’t.

“Giving in to temptation isn’t always a bad thing, Grace.”

I peered into his eyes and placed my Cosmo over my lap.

“That’s it sweetheart…” he crooned and moved his hand further up under my skirt. I leaned back and scooted forward on the seat. My skirt inched up. With his other hand, he cradled my head into the crook of his neck. I took a deep whiff of aftershave and knew I was a goner. I spread my legs and was lost.

His fingers grazed my pussy, ever-so-lightly.

Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties by Mia Jae

2009-11-10T16:33:00.000-08:00

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A Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe tale...

Blurb:

Bree Connor thinks she's volunteered to be a cocktail waitress at a benefit party for the homeless, donating her tips to the shelter--until the end of the night when she gets auctioned off to the highest bidder. The buyer? A man who has been giving her eyes all evening. He also happens to be the partner of the man Bree had an extremely unforgettable sexual encounter with a few months earlier, and has been avoiding all evening.

Oh, what a tinseled web we weave...

With 24 hours to do her buyer's bidding, she finds herself draped in tinsel and bound to a humongous antique bed, awaiting her Christmas Eve fate, only to find that she's been purchased as a gift for the man she's been trying to avoid. Unfortunately, her buyer orders them to 'get each other out of their systems' so they can go on with their lives... or not. Thing is, while blindfolded and securely bound, Bree is pretty sure she feels two sets of hands on her body instead of just one...

An excerpt: Chapter One

The black thong was a perfect fit, if she did say so herself. It cupped her nicely in front, making a perfect vee at her crotch. The tiny straps hugged her hipbone.

Bree Noël Conner smoothed her hands over her hips and tucked the tips of her fingers under the thin string. She’d invested in an airbrushed tan for the occasion and was glad of it. Her skin was bronze and silky, even though it was Christmas Eve. Pasty white and dry wasn’t for her, though her complexion was naturally milky. Since moving to Albuquerque, she tried her best to stay sun-kissed and healthy-looking, like everyone else. Besides, she had a skimpy dress to wear tonight and she’d be damned if she was wearing pantyhose.

Even in the middle of winter.

Turning, she glanced over her shoulder in the mirror and smiled. “Nice ass, if I do say so myself.” She adjusted the thong and then ran her palms over her backside too.

Wearing only the scrap of fabric, she padded across her bedroom and sat on the bench at the foot of her bed. Warming her favorite cocoa butter lotion in her hands, she skimmed her hands over her legs, lifting first one, then the other, into the air.

“Nice and moist,” she whispered. “Perfect.”

One at a time, she slipped a foot into a black patent leather boot, complete with five-inch tall, white faux-fur tops and three-inch heels, then laced each boot up her shin, from the top of her foot all the way to the fur at her knees.

Standing, she moved to the mirror again and admired the high-heeled boots, again turning this way and that to get the full effect.

“Nice,” she whispered. “Yes.” These will do just fine.

Lifting her gaze to her bare chest, she perused each of her girls. Firm, full, and bronzed as well, she noted her erect, upturned nipples.

She liked breasts. On her and on other women. Not that she went around feeling up other women’s breasts—it wasn’t her gig—she secretly admired other women’s from afar. To her own way of thinking, hers were topnotch.

Her last boyfriend thought so, too.

Until she’d screwed up. Again.

Sighing, she was actually glad he was out of her life, and relieved she didn’t have a man to answer to right now. Picking up her black strapless bra from the dresser, she clasped it around her waist. Twisting it upward, she shimmied the girls into place. It was a cup size too small.

Damn.

A lazy smiled curled over her lips. She liked the look of her breasts spilling out over the rim of the cups.

Her cell rang; she glanced down at the number, picked it up. “Hey, Ging.”

Her best friend’s high-pitched voice pinged through from the other side.

Bree grimaced. “I hear you! Yes. I know it’s snowing. What?”

Ginger explained once more, “We need to leave now. We’ll never get up the mountain if we wait an hour.”

Shit. That came through loud and clear. The party was in a home up in the East Mountain area of the Sandias. They’d had light snow off and on all day. She hadn’t realized that it was getting worse.

Teach her to dally in the tub.

But tonight, she had to look nice. She was hoping to come away from this evening with a purse full of pocket change, all for a good cause, of course.

“All right! I’ll be downstairs in ten.”

She ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. Her Santa dress hung in the doorway. She grasped the thing—if you could call it a dress, even—and gave it a quick perusal. Pulling it over her head, she wriggled into it. Skin tight, it cinched at her waist and flared out over her hips. She struggled with the zipper at the side, finally managing to pull it all the way up.

“Belt.”

Locating the black patent leather belt, she circled her waist and pulled it tight, buckling it snug at her center. Again, she gave herself a once-over in the mirror. The dress barely skimmed her ass. The red velveteen, trimmed in faux fur along the hem, tickled her cheeks. Fur cradled her breasts, as well.

“Nice.”

A horn sounded outside.

“Crap.”

She clutched at her makeup bag, the elbow-length red satin gloves, and her Santa hat, then tripped down the stairs of her townhouse toward the front door.

***

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Read the 5/5 Cup Review from Coffee Time Romance here!

Look for the other books in the Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe series by authors Catrina Calloway, Tia Fanning, Demi Alex and Melinda Barron at Resplendence Publishing.

The Bachelorette Party 101 Series

2009-11-07T19:22:00.000-08:00

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I Betcha
Book One

Mary Kate Wells refuses to admit that she's innocent. She has had sex, but the truth is, when Johnny the Stripper calls the day of the bachelorette party to confirm his appointment later that night, the sound of his voice saying, "Hi, Mary. My name is Johnny, and I'll be your stripper this evening," jerks her libido into full-speed ahead like nothing she's ever felt before.

And then when Johnny arrives with his twin brother Shawn at his side, the fire in her gut can only be put out by one thing--no wait, two. In her ear she hears her sister chiming, "I betcha won't, I betcha won't..." And determined to be her own woman, Mary bets she will.

I Don't
Book Two

Lainie Wells will get married. She will, she will, she will. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Her life will be perfect. Bleh, bleh, bleh.

Thoroughly confused and utterly disgusted with herself, and life in general, she’s resigned to impending marriage (and a fantastic bachelorette party). Besides, her sister Mary Kate has everything planned and her father has footed an astronomical bill.

She will, she will, she will.

And she keeps saying that all the way up to the point where, in a moment of boredom, she ditches the party to escape to a place where she always felt like herself—the gay bar down the street—and where she hooks up with an old best friend José, and her ex-lover, Simon, who takes the stage during the drag show, links gazes with her and won’t let go.

Suddenly, “I do” feels more like “I don’t”…unless she ends up saying “I do” to what both José and Simon have to offer.

I Want
Book Three

“I just wanna get laid. And good.”

As Dee looks up from her drink while sitting in the luxurious bar at the Seelbach Hotel after the uneventful-for-her bachelorette party, she swears a man is staring back at her in the mirror. Their gazes connect and hold, she turns, but no one is there. The sexual titillation that runs through her body at that moment frightens her almost as much as the fact that she’s pretty darned certain she’s seen a ghost. Earlier during the party, as pictures were snapped with digital cameras, the women all proclaimed to see orbs circulating Dee’s body. And Dee’s alone.

As the night rolls on, Dee experiences a ghostly encounter of the ménage kind that makes her believe in sex here, and in the forever after—which takes getting laid to a whole other level.

All Bachelorette Party 101 series titles are available at Resplendence Publishing and will all be available soon at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other online digital retailers.

Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties

2009-07-11T21:55:00.000-07:00

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Now available.

Blurb:

Bree Conner thinks she’s volunteered to be a cocktail waitress at a benefit party for the homeless, donating her tips to the shelter—until the end of the night when she gets auctioned off to the highest bidder to a man who has been making eyes at her all evening. That man happens to be the partner of another man she’d had an extremely unforgettable sexual encounter with a few months earlier…and had been avoiding all evening.

Oh, what a tangled tinseled web we weave…

With 24 hours to do her buyer’s bidding, she finds herself draped in tinsel and bound to a humongous antique bed, waiting her Christmas Eve fate, only to find that she’s been bought as a gift to the man she’d had the unforgettable encounter with. Her buyer orders them to “get each other out of their systems” so they can either go on with life, or not. Thing is, while blindfolded and securely bound, she’s pretty sure she feels two sets of hands on her body, instead of one…

Excerpt:

Both women turned. Bree gasped at the sight of the man standing immediately behind them, leaning into the bar. The color of his sparkling eyes rivaled the most clear blue turquoise she’d ever seen. His chiseled features forced her to catch a breath. It was difficult to immediately discern whether he was Anglo or Native…probably bi-racial. His complexion was much darker than hers; his semi-short, light brown hair, deliciously unkempt.

What a beautiful man.

And there was something slightly familiar about him.

Looking anywhere but straight into his face, Bree acted non-chalant. “You’re right. That price was a steal.”

“We know.”

The man pushed away from the bar and held out a hand to Bree. “Carson Graham. And you are?”

“The hired help.”

Ginger poked her elbow in her side, and Bree jumped. She took Carson’s hand and shook it. “I’m Bree, and she’s Ginger.”

Carson snickered. “Bree?”

“Yeah. Like the cheese.”

The right corner of his mouth stayed in smile-mode.

“And she’s Ginger, like the cookie.”

Carson laughed out loud.

The bartender set the last of her drinks on her tray. Squeezing between Carson and Ginger, she smiled back and said, “And I have drinks to deliver. Nice to meet you.”

Her fumbling fingers grasped the tray and in that second, she realized she was trembling. Not since she’d broken up with Sam a couple of months ago, had she realized how much she missed being close to a man.

She loved men.

Men.

Plural.

And that was the trouble. The men she dated always seemed to want some sort of commitment. It was difficult for her to settle. And sooner or later, bored and unsatisfied, she strayed…

Carson stopped her with a hand to her forearm. She rested the tray against the bar and once more, peered into his eyes. “Have we met?” he queried.

Confused, unsure why he seemed so familiar, she shook her head. “Um, earlier tonight? No.”

Cocking his head to one side, he narrowed his gaze and studied her. “No. Prior to tonight. I never forget a face.” He wriggled his fingers, as if he was itching to touch her. “Or a profile.” Then he did just that, touched her. Reaching out, he grazed a soft, fingertip stroke across her cheekbone and then traced the outline of her jaw, as if he were rendering a line drawing of her face. An unexpected shiver crannied through her and sped toward her center. His touch had instantly aroused her and it came from out of nowhere. “I’m an artist,” he continued, “and I never forget a contour…”

Bree huffed out a quick breath, trying to quell the short pants that wanted to escape her mouth. “I’m not sure, Carson. I—”

Someone bumped into her from behind, pushing her closer into him. He steadied her against his chest—which did absolutely nothing to quell her arousal, but served to completely stimulate it. She inhaled, deep, and took in the sharp spice of his aftershave, and nearly melted.

Her face was in his neck. “I should deliver those drinks,” she whispered.

Steadying her in front of him, Carson stared deep into her eyes, then lifted the tray and put it in her hands. “Go deliver your drinks, Ms. Santa. I’m not going anywhere.”

She hesitated, and did a slow turn, as Carson’s hands dropped to her hips and his fingertips grazed the hem of her skirt.

And the cheeks of her ass.

The action sent her sex into a decadent pucker of desire.

Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe Anthology

2008-12-07T18:54:00.000-08:00

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Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe
an erotic holiday anthology

By Catrina Calloway, Demi Alex, Mia Jae, Tia Fanning

Four erotic holiday stories guaranteed to heat up the cold winter nights...

~After an embarrassing break-up, Hope lies about having a new fiancé, but now her family expects him to come home with her for the holidays. She needs a man that fits the bill - and fast!

~A winter storm gives Josh and Zach an opportunity to share the pleasures of the 'festival of lights' with Laney, and a chance to fulfill their long-held erotic fantasies.

~After Winter's dominant husband, Nicolas, punishes her for being naughty, Winter arrives at their secluded mountain cabin bearing gifts - special gifts that will ensure his submission and her revenge.

~Cassie is the first female head of her English department. But that doesn't mean she has to prove herself sexually to fellow professor Eric Marsh, does it? Then there is Ryan. Strong and sexy, with hands that can ease away the tension of most any job...

Available NOW in print at Resplendence Publishing and Amazon.

From chapter one of Nice and Naughty...

“Dinner?”

Cassandra Franklin glanced at her computer screen then back to her work. Not tonight. No time. She stared down at the grant proposal she was editing. It was due next week in D.C. and there was something not quite right about the purpose of need section.

Dammit.

She had to get this right. Her department depended on the funding this grant would provide. This cycle the competition was stiff and it made her extremely nervous. As the new head of the English department at Compton University, she was responsible. And vulnerable. This was her year to prove herself.

She’d be damned if she’d let anything get in her way.

The white instant messenger box popped up on her screen again.

“I know you are there. Working late. You need a life, sweetheart.”

Except, maybe, that.

Ignore him. He had no clue whether she was at work or not. Besides, he wasn’t even a real person. He was just a name behind a little white box.

She clicked the X to make the messenger go away. Instead of looking back to her proposal, however, she stared out the window. Icy flakes of snow pelted the glass. Perhaps they would have a white Christmas, after all. Unusual for this southern college town. The night behind them was black as pitch. She was here way too late but what could she do?

Bing. This time the box came with sound. She jerked back.

“C’mon, professor. Get a life. Come out to play.”

Shit. She didn’t even really know the man and he knew her better than most of her friends. She did need a life.

“It’s Christmas,” he added. “Have some fun. Be festive. Ho-ho-ho.”

Bah humbug.

Sighing, Cassie maximized the box on the screen, then placed her hands on the keyboard and clicked beside her screen name, SexyProf. “I’m not at work.” She typed the lie and hit send.

Pause.

A second later the space at the bottom of the box read: kittylicker is typing.

Kittylicker. What a screen name. She waited for his response.

“Sure you are. Your office light is on.”

Something panged inside her. He knew where her office was? She sat up straighter and typed furiously. “You’re a liar.”

“LOL,” he replied. “Touché.”

Cassie sighed and relaxed, sitting back in her chair. Last thing she needed was for kittylicker to actually know who she was.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

She shook her head. They had been down this road before. “No. We’ve already discussed this. No face-to-face.”

“L” Then he started typing again. “Tell me what you want.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know. Tell me.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Now you are a liar.”

Cassie huffed out a breath.

“I know what you like, sexyprof.”

Again, she heaved a sigh. She’d been working all day on this proposal and was bone weary. Last thing she needed was to stare at this computer screen any longer. But this was different, wasn’t it?

“Shit,” she said softly. “I’m so addicted…”

Rising, she stepped to her office door and locked it, extinguished the overhead light, then went to the window and adjusted the blinds so they were fully closed. Only the desk lamp and the computer screen lit the room now.

Bing!

“Hold on. Sheesh…”

“Say it,” he urged. She could almost feel the whoosh of his words against her cheek, like he was whispering in her ear.

Her fingers paused over the keyboard. “You say it. Tell me what I like.”

***

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Red Garters, Snow & Mistletoe, Volume II is now available at Amazon!

Reviews

2008-11-14T21:08:00.000-08:00

For Nice and Naughty

This was only the second time that I had ever read a menage story that I truly enjoyed. I like the way it was written and the way the story flowed along. I also loved the fact that there was an actual plot to this book. The situations in which the main characters found themselves were realistic, believable, entirely possible, and totally probable. Not only did I absolutely love "Nice and Naughty", I will be recommending it to my friends and family. "Nice and Naughty" will be put permanently into my "to be read" pile.

Overall rating: 5/5 hearts and voted a 5 Heart Sweetheart Review.

Reviewer: Alyna Couture
July 22, 2009

Link to The Romance Studio review

For Chance Encounters

...a nice collection of short erotic stories that gives you snapshots of different peoples sexual chance encounters. The heat level varies from sweet, to hot and heavy ménage trios. This is a good book for traveling to or from work or on a plane. You can start and finish a story pretty fast without having to remember too much if you put it down for too long. Perfect for busy readers.

Rated 3 Delightful Divas by KayAnna at Dark Diva Reviews

Read the full review here.

For Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties

I absolutely loved the story of Jack, Carson and Bree. I learned so much about the characters that I wanted to be friends with them. Mia Jae has an amazing way of presenting her characters in such a realistic light with intriguing personalities that sucks the reader in. I was rooting for each character and emotionally invested in Jack’s happiness. I will be keeping this book on my TBR for any time I want to visit a good friend.

Delane
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More

Rating: 5/5 Cups

Read the complete review at Coffee Time Romance & More.

Nice and Naughty

2008-11-05T16:47:00.002-08:00

Back to My Books.

Nice and Naughty
by Mia Jae

Cassie Franklin has to prove herself. After all, she's the first female head of the English department at the university. But that doesn't mean she has to prove herself sexually to Eric (English Lit 101 and Shakespeare) does it? And surely he doesn't realize that she is SexyProf on the Instant Messenger. Does he?

Then there is Ryan. Strong and sexy and with hands that can ease away the tension of most any job. He almost makes her forget her risky escapades with Eric.

Until she realizes that Ryan and Eric are roommates, and partners... And that the couple has picked her, for their girl.

Nice and Naughty is part of the Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe Series published by Resplendence Publishing. Look for other titles by Demi Alex, Catrina Calloway, and Tia Fanning. To be released in November, 2008

An Excerpt

Cassie turned, the hairs on the back of neck alert, and jumped at the hand laid on her shoulder. She started to squeal until that hand clamped over her mouth and a strong arm grasped her about the waist and dragged her into the room.

Soon, she was crowded up against a wall in the dark room, the door fully closed now behind her. Some sort of odd rendition of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" sounded in the background. A streetlight outside provided enough light to see the profile of her assailant, who was close. Very close.

“Wh..wh…what are you doing!” she finally huffed out.

“Saving you from a night of boredom.”

The voice.

Familiar.

“Wh…who…?”

“Oh, come now, Cassie. You don’t recognize me?”

She relaxed. “Eric?”

“One in the same, sweetheart.”

She pushed at his chest and he backed away. “What the shit do you think you’re doing scaring me like that?” Eric was in her department. English Lit 101, 202, Genre Writing, and Shakespeare. Yeah, weird combination, but he was good at what he did. Essentially, she was his superior.

But that hadn’t stopped the heated eye contact between then recently. The lingering touches. The occasional opportunities to crowd up against each other.

“Like I said. Saving your ass. Mrs. Cummings was on her way.”

“Crap. Thanks.” She collapsed onto a sofa. “What is this? Some sort of sun room?” She liked all the windows. The Christmas candles on the sill added some ambiance.

He sat beside her and took the wine glass out of her hand. “Let me take that before you spill it everywhere.” He set it on a nearby table.

She looked at him. “Why would I spill it?”

He didn’t immediately answer but let his gaze linger over her body. Suddenly, Cassie felt naked. “Because both our hands are going to be busy in a minute.”

Cassie arched a brow. “Oh?”

He edged closer, nuzzling her neck. Damn. He smelled wonderful and that was not a good sign. “Eric…”

“Hm?”

“Bad idea. I’m your boss.”

Ignoring her, he nipped at her neck. “I feel a little wicked. Will you spank me if I’m naughty, boss?” He slipped his hand between her thighs. “You have panties on?”

“Eric…” Her resolve was slowing fading. His large hand felt, well, rather nice. “I’m not into relationships right now.”

He nibbled at her ear. “I’m already in a relationship,” he said. “At this moment I’m only about tonight.”

His fingers moved closer to her crotch. Involuntarily, she slid forward on the sofa.

“The party,” she croaked out.

“Yeah. We might get caught. Fun, huh?” His forefinger grazed her pussy. “You minx. No panties.”

Groan. She should get up from here right now… “Don’t like panties with the garter…”

“Ummm…I like that. You want it naughty or nice?”

With those words, he slid two fingers into her vagina. His thumb found her clit and began a slow and sultry massage.

Cassie’s legs spread. Dammit. “Um…nice and naughty is good...”

“Oh, baby. You’re so wet. I do like that.”

She moaned. “Eric, if you ever breathe a word of this…”

He moved to the floor between her knees, still rotating his fingers in and out of her. “I never kiss and tell.”

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Read a review from The Romance Studio here.

Mia Jae's Bio

2008-06-22T17:22:00.000-07:00

Mia is a Midwest girl who always had a thing for travel. Growing up in the middle of the country was one thing but for some reason, she always longed to be "on the edge."

Living on the edge meant leaving home for sand and surf on both coasts (she's partial to North Carolina and San Diego beaches) and a stint living in New Orleans, pre-Katrina.

Living on the fringes of the country nicely parallels how she's lived her life. No regrets. Always looking forward. Take a risk or two. Just like the characters in her books. Bold, sassy, sexy, sophisticated, and erotic...and experiencing life to the fringes.

Mia loves to write erotic romance and erotic fiction, with a bit of a sophisticated edge and a huge pinch of naughty.

School Rules

2000-04-03T21:01:00.000-07:00

Back to My Books.

School Rules

Coming January 2012

Chapter One

I’m not good at making decisions. Picking favorites, either. In fact, if you asked me right now to pick between a hunk of chocolate or a hefty portion of lasagna, I’d be hard pressed to choose. You see, they both have merits. I mean, the chocolate, of course, would tickle my taste buds and go down smooth and mellow, lulling me into a blissful state of momentary satisfaction.

But then again, the lasagna can put me in an equally blissful state of sated glory, stringing gooey cheese and paired with a tangy and sweet marinara. And if there is Italian sausage to boot, well….

So, that’s just the thing, you know? I can’t pick.

And that’s the reason for the dilemma I am currently in.

I can’t resist yummy things.

And I can’t pick between James and Marco.

James? Well, he’s very much akin to the afore mentioned chocolate. Smooth. Silky. Bold. Sophisticated and intoxicating. My nights spent with James keep me pretty much in a state of perpetual bliss, my body humming along at a smooth and steady pace for hours.

Marco? Suffice is to say that we’ll just bypass the cheese and marinara and head straight for the sausage. Because with Marco? The sausage is definitely his forte. Marco possesses a cock that any girl would long for and even though a perpetual hum is awfully nice, a good hot pussy-pounding with a rock hard and red hot sausage isn’t something a girl can easily give up.

And I don’t want to. Don’t want to give up either of them, actually.

So, that’s why it comes down to this. I don’t want to give up James. And I don’t want to give up Marco, either. But after several weeks of jockeying dates and sleepovers between the two of them, I finally decide that something has to give before exhaustion totally sets in.

I either have to chose, or I have to think outside of the box. Get creative.

Take a risk.

Take control.

Me. Catherine Beatrice O’Brien. Meek and mild third grade teacher at St. Bart’s Elementary School. Valedictorian of her college class. Voted Most Likely To Remain a Virgin by her fellow high school seniors. And Sunday School Youth Group teacher.

Take a risk. Like I haven’t done that already? I practically fucked my way through college and not a soul knew.

No one knows of my indiscretions. I am quite, quite discreet.

James only knows about James, of course.

And Marco only knows about Marco.

And no one else knows about either of them because to the outside world, I am prim and proper Catherine Beatrice, private school teacher, or Caty Bea, as my family and close friends call me.

Except for my priest, who knows pretty much everything—after all, I am still a good Catholic school girl and confession is expected—and I am pretty sure he isn’t going to divulge, although I wonder about his eagerness every week to lure me to confession.

Perverted thoughts cross my brain. I halt them.

“All right.” Standing, I tug down my top, square my shoulders, and glance toward the parking lot. From my third floor classroom perch, I can see that the lot is empty. The children left hours ago. Their papers are all graded. It is Friday night and I am locked in tight. Josie, the head custodian, came by about thirty minutes earlier telling me she was leaving—her son’s football game, you know. And I have a plan that involves not one, but two, of my favorite things.

No, not chocolate or lasagna.

But James and Marco.

Picking up my smart phone I dial first one number, then two, got the responses I want…and smile.

I might be indecisive but I sure know how to manipulate.

Slipping into my rain coat, I adjust the belt a little tighter, move to the windows and slowly lower each shade halfway, one by one, glancing again to the well-lit parking lot and my sedan. On my way out the classroom door, I pick the letter opener and my keys up off my neatly arranged, solid oak teacher’s desk. All of my things are in place. Perfect.

Everything I need.

My black patent leather heels click on the hard-waxed tile floors of the empty school as I move to the stair, down the steps, push through large front school doors and into the parking lot.

With assured determination, I cross the lot to my car, bend to stab the back left tire with the letter opener until it pops, slip the opener into my pocket, then stand to lean my rear against the side of the car. And wait.

Patiently.

My insides twitter like no tomorrow.