Showing posts from February, 2014

Finally back on KOBO UK!

After months of prompting, my books have been returned for sale on KOBO UK!

Wives Awakened at KOBO UK...and KOBO US...

Fallen at KOBO UK ...and KOBO US...

Coming soon ... Immaculate Whore...

The humour faded from her face, she assumed an expression of deep concentration, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. She began rolling her thighs, slowly, building, like ocean waves swelling before they thundered onto the land. Now his body responded, found her. With one shove he was inside her again, his own thighs followed her lead. He rode the waves like a surfer as she sought to drag him under her boiling sea of ecstasy. 

Greased in her fluids, he thrust his hips; his cock was a living piston. Her mouth found his and they were joined in a second place, tongues performing their own mating dance, exploring again. She tasted of something sweet, nothing he could name, but it was pleasant and arousing. Her eyes remained closed, his were open. 

He took the opportunity to scan her features. Nobody could argue away her beauty, even though her nose was perhaps a little too broad. He pushed that thought away, irritated at himself. That was the problem with inspecting facial features in…
Tom on Amazon...

Amazon US

Amazon UK

..on Barnes & Noble...

Barnes & Noble

...All Romance...

All Romance



As if there were not enough places to grab Tom's bits!


Tom Covenent is Dan Cocker - now available, The Club (Beyond Their Boundaries, Part 1:)

Amazon US
Amazon UK
SMASHWORDS (Premium - soon to be widely distributed)

Chapter One
Music and dancers filled the basement club with a sensual heat that was as palpable as the smoke from the diners’ cigarettes.  The dance floor was small, though mirrors on its three confining walls flattered it with a reflected throng.  It was filled with far too many couples for its size.  Among them, I only had eyes for one.  In the low light, too often obscured by other partners, their sensual movements continued half imagined.  But I saw enough to feed my jealous mind; it filled in any gaps.   They danced a slow dance, their bodies moving in reflected synchronicity with the evocative tones of a tenor saxophone.  The beat was slow, the rhythm throbbing like a pulse.  Their hands began to roam beyond the dance, exploring curves, slopes, mounds, dips, and valleys, as if each were a sculptor creating a living body beneath the manipulation of artistic finger tips.   I watched as did others, but unlike thei…