Declan makes her a tantalizing offer she cannot refuse. @AnyaBSummers #romance




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Declan makes her a tantalizing offer she cannot refuse. Will Zoey agree to submit to Declan’s every dark fantasy?

Her Highland Master

The Dungeon Fantasy Club

by Anya Summers

Genre/Keyword(s): Romance, Contemporary, Erotic, BDSM, Spanking





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Synopsis


Zoey Mills's life is in shambles. She’s been accused of leaking her upper crust Hollywood clients’ data to an online magazine for a large payday. After a wine and chocolate-filled evening of drowning her sorrows, she determines that her best course of action is to leave her home in sunny Los Angeles for a week-long vacation in the Scottish Highlands. It’s the only way she can escape from the fact that her image is being splashed across the nightly news – and it might actually give her a chance to consider what her next move should be, now that her Great Master Life Plan has disintegrated into dust.

Zoey finds herself stranded and winds up on the doorstep of Mullardoch Manor; home of the sexy Scotsman, Declan McDougal, who is her every dark fantasy brought to life. Declan is one of the founding members of The Dungeon Fantasy Club. As a billionaire businessman and a Dom, he prefers to keep his sexual preferences and tastes away from the boardroom. He’s also become bored, not just with the club, but also with his life. None of the subs he meets can hold his interest for more than a night and it's been that way for a long time.

When Zoey finds herself without a place to stay, Declan makes her a tantalizing but scandalous offer: Stay in his home for the week, free of charge, and spend each night warming his bed. 




Excerpt


Zoey stared as the man descended, momentarily tongue-tied as a gorgeous male specimen approached. It was like she had died and gone to the Scottish Express with a man who had a likeness to what she imagined the old Highland raiders had looked like. His ginger hair was longer than was the usual fashion; curly, and shoulder length. It would make any other man appear feminine, but his hair style actually helped soften the hard angles of his face. He had startling jade eyes and a generous smile, framed by short, scruffy stubble a few shades darker than his hair. As he reached the bottom step, Zoey noticed how tall he was; the man had to be at least close to six and a half feet. His long legs ate up the remaining distance between them.

"Lass? Are you all right?" His voice rolled with a deep Scottish burr that made her toes curl. If only men in Los Angeles talked like this—she would never leave the city. This is paragraph 3

"N-n-n-no." She shivered, feeling woozy, her vision wavering. "My car is stuck in a ditch down the hill a ways, and my cell phone can't get a signal. I hoped you might have a phone I could use and a place where I could wait for a tow truck."

"Och, an American lass?" The surprise was thick in his voice. "I'm sorry, but you won't get old Robbie out in a storm such as this, I'm afraid."

Disappointment crashed through Zoey. The entire contents of her suitcase were likely lost. The dream vacation to escape hell ended as she discovered that hell did indeed freeze over from time to time. Her vision faltered again as the day's events caught up with her, and she swayed. 




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