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Titania Ladley

Writing as

Roxana Blaze


A Ménage Paranormal Historical Erotica
Now available at
Ellora's Cave






What comes around goes around. Karma. Just desserts.

Half-man/half-spirit, Nighthawk, has heard them all from his ruthless spirit guide, Kaine. Forced into the bodies of people similar to those he's wronged in past lives, Nighthawk now occupies the body and soul of Elijah, a freed slave in 1870. But what profound lesson could he possibly learn from indulging in a naughty ménage at a bordello with a gorgeous woman and her rugged partner? No karma here, for damn sure. The hot couple leaves Nighthawk panting with lust like never before...or perhaps it’s the familiar signs of betrayal making him feel so Breathless

Now available at Ellora's Cave!

 Reader Advisory: This book contains hot scenes of m/m/f sex as well as m/f that will leave you...well, BREATHLESS.

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(Includes Breathless

and Heartless)




[Setup:  Nighthawk has been thrust into the body of escaped wanted prisoner, Elijah Miller. He's purchased two whores—one man and one woman—to ease the tension of being on the run. The woman has just arrived while the man has been delayed. But the dangerous thing Nighthawk doesn't realize is that people are not always who or what they appear to be...]



She stepped into the bedroom he’d rented above the small-town Colorado saloon, her spool-heeled shoes clopping on wood. The hem of her red velvet, low-cut gown barely covered the fine curve of calf. With a wink, she leaned against the door, closing it behind her, deliberately drowning out the downstairs chatter. "Yes, but you can call me Kassy if you like." She drawled it in a sweet-as-pie, smoky voice.


"Mmm, I think I prefer Kassidy. It’s unique." His gaze scanned her voluptuous figure and generous bosom. Ironically, rather than lying on her back with her legs in the air, the name made him envision her riding expertly upon a wild stallion. He could just see those breasts bouncing out of her bodice, and the firm thighs he sensed were beneath the dress, clamping tightly while her woman’s cleft abraded over the horse’s spine. His penis went stone-hard at the fantasy of it. "Oddly, it fits you well."


She shrugged. "It is, of course, your choice as a paying customer to call me whatever you like."


Damn, the girl was good. He could see how the self-assurance edging her femininity could make any man want her more, much like a cat being far more interested in the scurrying, confident prey than the surrendering, timid mouse.


Almost as an afterthought, Kassidy sent him a smoldering look, making it very easy for him to think of all the naughty words he could use to describe her—slut, whore, tramp, harlot, wanton wench. But somehow none of them satisfied his assessment of her. There was something more there, something contrary to any other prostitute he’d encountered in any of his lives. It was a quality that made him breathless, almost smitten, despite the fact her profession forbade emotion from either the customer or the lady of the evening.


"You called me infamous…" She added a tinkling laugh that seemed to grab him by the balls and stroke relentlessly. "Yes, I’m well remembered. My pussy is as potent as a quick swallow of fine liquor, and even spicier on the…tongue."


She pushed away from the pine door, the tops of her enormous, faintly bronzed tits spilling over the bodice of her snug gown.


Hmm, unusual skin tone for a white lady of the night in this time period, he mused. His cock twitched in protest, as if to say, "Think about the slick, pink, tight cunt, not the outer shell, you idiot." He chuckled to himself. His gaze rose obediently to peruse the face. He couldn’t have looked away from her stunning features and predator’s stare if he tried. Her blood-red lips curved knowingly, tipping up higher with each inch she moved closer to her target.


To Nighthawk.


He imagined those lips’ plump roundness closing around his manhood, the wet tongue slurping from his aching balls, up his long shaft to the sensitive corona and rounded head already dripping with pre-cum. Every muscle in his body went taut like the line of an anchor tossed overboard, plunging to the bottom of the sea.


Sunk. He was sunk by her stunning beauty. Ah, and he wanted to sink himself into her damp, tumultuous sea just like that anchor. Thank Kaine for the wad of cash he’d placed in Elijah’s pocket just before Nighthawk had entered his body in this point in history. The money was there, he knew, to purchase some cunt from the madam behind the busy bar downstairs, one of Kaine’s many plans that Nighthawk would gradually understand as the lesson progressed.


He’d understood all right. The fact he had plenty of money to not only purchase a woman, but a man as well, hadn’t escaped him. Oh yeah, Nighthawk and Elijah both happened to love a threesome, especially the sort including two men and a woman. So Nighthawk couldn’t have inhabited a more fitting body than Elijah’s.


"Potent? I bet you’re as intoxicating as hell."


A purring sound eased from her throat in response to his cryptic words. When she sashayed three steps closer, her skirt swished in a seductive song only women’s garments could sing. The scent of wild rose wafted up to tease his nostrils and whet his raging male appetite. He sniffed in a bit deeper.

Was that leather he detected just below the feminine surface?


No, it couldn’t be. In spite of the fact her name had had him easily picturing her thundering across the West upon the bare back of a wild mustang, the only stallions this woman rode were of the human form.




He met Kassidy in the center of the space where hundreds had come before him to fuck hot and talented strumpets such as this, to pound the shit out of tight quim without the ball and chain of marriage.


He studied her eyes. They were the color her name implied—that of brandy—and just as liquid and fine. The kohl-outlined stunners glittered with mischief and sexual fire amid the tanned tone of her face. It felt as if she’d punched him in the gut with intoxication, as if he’d guzzled an entire bottle of her heady spirits.


"Madam Carolena informed me you’ve paid for quite a romp. Requested a man to join us…who will be here shortly, by the way." Her cool hand cupped his whiskered jaw. A warm summer’s breeze blew in through the open window and stirred the long cascade of snow-white ringlets spilling from her chignon and resting across one sun-kissed shoulder. "But I’m curious… How did a man of your stature—a recently freed slave, I hear—come into such a large amount of cash?"


Kaine gave it to me, bless his pompous angels soul.


He lifted his shoulders with indifference and yanked her into his arms. "Does it really matter as long as you get your money?"


His throbbing erection became nestled by the velvet-covered triangle of her warm mons. There was no need to wait. Nighthawk wanted to sample what he’d purchased. He stooped, found the hem of her gown, and drew it up, skimming his hand along the stockinged thighs until he reached her crux.

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Grade B+!

"Breathless will leave you as such. Ms. Blaze's first book in a planned series of four leaves a few questions and teasers that I am hoping will be answered in the future novels. The heat between the four characters Kassidy, Wyatt, and Nighthawk/Elijah was nothing short of an inferno. The needs and desires that were laid out without shame was thoughtfully planned and came across to make this book a very fast paced read... I enjoyed this book and I look forward to reading the next book in the series." ~ Shira for Simply Romance Reviews 


4/5 Angels!

"Some believe in karma, some don’t. I personally believe that you get what you give as Roxana Blaze demonstrates in Breathless... Ms. Blaze has written a wonderful story with a sound plot, strong and engaging characters, and poignant messages throughout. I enjoyed reading Breathless and would recommend it to those who enjoy the genre." ~ NeNe for Fallen Angel Reviews 

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