Sunday, August 21, 2016


Out Now! - Between You and I by Beth D. Carter (@bethdcarter)

Thank you so much for having me here today!  I’ve often had people ask why do I write erotica romance? Do I really have to use those words? Well, yes. Yes, I do. And I’ve had it all.  The raised eyebrows, the nose in the air, even the rolled eyes. Everything that screams disapproval.  All because I say I write erotica romance.  People can’t seem to get past the ‘erotica’ part of that statement.

But I can’t NOT write.  I might explode if I’m not at my laptop trying to find a synonym for the words ‘gazed into his eyes’.  And why erotica romance?  Because it’s real. The sex is graphic because the love is intense.  My stories are not about people like the Cleavers, or the Brady Bunch.  My stories are about people with problems…about an ex-soldier fighting PTSD, women kidnapped for a human trafficking ring, a man who was inappropriately touched as a child, a woman who has survived alone in a wasteland for years.  These characters are raw.  Their emotions are encased in ice.  These people are helpless, hopeless…until love finds them. 

In my latest book, Between You and I, the heroine, Madeline, is scared about feeling again after the man she loves walks away from her.  She hides behind a plethora of interesting friends, keeping herself busy so she’s not lonely.  Or at least, she tries to convince herself she isn’t lonely.  When she meets Hunter, who is a little younger than her, she suddenly is confronted by the prospect of the numbness she’s wound herself in melting away.  

I’m not sure what other writers do, but I often use my writing as a way of dealing with my issues.  It’s very cathartic.  I’m very proud to have written about a woman who has gone through the same emotional turmoil I went through.  I hope Madeline’s story helps others who might be struggling with the same type of uncertainties.  

What inspired you to write Between You and I?  

This book was inspired by my own battle with endometriosis.  I was diagnosed in my twenties and suffered with pain, depression, and insomnia for over twenty years. It’s still a medical condition most people don’t know anything about.  I finally made the decision to have a hysterectomy last year and while lying in the hospital bed, I came up with Madeline.  For a few years I’d been toying with the idea of a book, but it was that moment, right after surgery, that Madeline became a real person to me.  

Tell us about the heroine, Madeline, in Between You and I

Externally, she’s tough.  She covers up her pain with a “no worries” attitude.  But internally, she’s lonely.  She wishes for someone to hold her and take care of her for a moment.  In that respect, she’s a personification of what I went through.  Writing, for me, is a very cathartic way of dealing with issues.  

Was there as specific part of the story that you absolutely loved writing as well as not enjoyed writing?
I loved finding her balance with the hero, Hunter.  He’s younger than her so having her get past her mental block on that was fun exploring.  My least favorite part in writing this story was figuring out the ending.  The one that the book ended up with was my second ending.  It was hard figuring out the believable way to write their happy ever after.

Please tell a little about Between You and I without giving too much of a spoiler away.

This book was inspired by my own battle with endometriosis.  For a few years I’d been toying with the idea of a book about a heroine who had it, but it was the moment right after my hysterectomy surgery, that Madeline became a real person to me.  The hero, Hunter, had to be a right balance of understanding, hunky, and confused, otherwise, he’s too one dimensional.  I think I hit that balance, and I consider this book one of my best.

Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?

Mostly my characters develop as I write them, but in this case, Madeline was planned out extensively, mainly because a lot of her is me.  I used my own struggle with endometriosis as her emotional platform to find love with a younger man.  

What is your favorite line in Between You and I?  Why?
“Tell me, right now, what’s standing between you and I that makes you scared of that word,” he demanded. “Why are you so afraid of love?”
I love that line!  It was the first line I thought of when I began to think of Madeline’s story and it’s where I got the title.  I know it’s not grammatically correct but it sounds more dramatic than “between you and me”.  

Blurb:

A broken engagement left Madeline Shawl feeling like a shattered woman.  When she meets Hunter Caligari, he seems to be the perfect man for some friends-with-benefits action.  But when the easy affair turns into something more, it threatens her comfortable grief. 

The passion of the younger man nearly infects her until Hunter tries to articulate it with the three words she refuses to hear. When she pushes him away, wounding his heart, she finds her own broken all over again. 

Still, Madeline struggles to leave the past and accept that when Hunter said, "I love you," he wasn't just speaking for himself.

Buy links:


Excerpt:

“Where do you live?” she asked once they reached her sedan.

“Off Silverado,” he said. “The Mustang Apartments.”

Madeline nodded and a few minutes later she was driving out of the parking garage, easing into traffic to head toward his home. The entire time she was acutely aware of his presence in her car, the warmth that his body generated inside the small confines. Or maybe she was simply hot and bothered.
All too soon she pulled in front of the gate that sealed off his apartment complex, and then slipped into an empty slot designated for future residents. She put the car in park and turned off the engine. For a moment neither one moved. She simply sat there, with her hands on the steering wheel, her heart pounding, and every nerve ending standing at attention. Waiting. Anticipating. He shifted and she felt his gaze on her, so slowly she turned.  The overhead parking lights illuminated his face through the front window, highlighting his chiseled good looks. Suddenly the small confines of her car seemed hot. A bit overwhelming. 

“I had a great time,” Hunter murmured.

Madeline wet her dry lips with her tongue. His head moved fractionally closer.

“Me…” She had to clear her throat from the huskiness coming through. “Me too.”

He smiled and their gazes met. Locked. She had this sense of free falling, just plunging head first into an unknown abyss. Had she ever felt like this with Kevin? With him everything had been easy. Simplistic. Nothing like what she was feeling now, with Hunter. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it, absorbing his heat. His eyelids narrowed a bit and his attention shifted to her mouth. All sorts of delicious tingles spread through her body because she knew he was going to kiss her. God! She wanted to kiss him back so much it was an ache deep in her gut. His head descended and her eyes fluttered shut just as the first touch of his mouth on hers brushed her lips. So gentle, like the dewy wisp of butterfly wings, and she wondered if he had kissed her at all.



Author Bio:

I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers.  I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box.  I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love

I’ve been pretty fortunate in life to experience some amazing things.  I’ve lived in France, travelled throughout Europe, Australia and New Zealand.  I am a mom to an amazing little boy.  I’ve walked a red carpet event and visited the USS Voyager. I hate washing dishes but I love cooking. I hate washing clothes but I love wearing them. Writing my bio is difficult because I never know what to say so I hope you like this one.  My favorite color is red but I look best in black (it’s slimming).  I hate people who don't pick up their dog's crap in public places, people who don’t use turn signals, and I really hate people who are rude and condescending. I especially hate discrimination in all and every form.  And although I love holding a book in my hand, I absolutely adore my ereader, whom I’ve named Ruby.  I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on the web.



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Sunday, August 14, 2016

A Variety of Chains


Pre-order blitz! A Variety of Chains - Erotic paranormal novel by Christine Blackthorn (@CBlackthorn @sinfulpress)


Sinful Press is proud to announce the pre-release of A Variety of Chains by Christine Blackthorn, the first in the Bloodhavens series.


Blurb

Kathryn McClusky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.
She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.

Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power. 

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.
Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?


Pre-order links










Excerpt

He calmly straddled her, and as he leant forward to take her mouth in a deep kiss, his long hair curtained them in a world of their own. His kisses were deep and addictive, a leisurely play on her senses, an instant aphrodisiac. He took his time to taste and feel every last corner of her mouth and only let up when both their lips were swollen and sensitive.

"That's it. I want you to be only aware of me." There was a wicked light in his eyes – wicked, aroused and full of gentle laughter, a combination more desirable than anything. 

"First, I will narrow your world so that your busy little brain cannot take you away, and then I will play with you. The rules will be simple. I get to do whatever I want and you have to take it. If you tell me something I do not know and cannot find out any other way, something secret and intimate, then and only then will I give you relief."

She did not understand what he meant but her confusion was quickly overtaken by alarm when he covered her eyes with a soft cloth. She did not like the limitation to her sight even though he had blindfolded her repeatedly over the last two weeks. It made her tense, and increased her awareness of both his touch and his taste. She felt his lips stroking over the cloth, gentling her into the darkness. She was surprised when his hands slipped under her shoulders and he made her upper body more comfortable – she had not noticed the discomfort from her muscles, but he had. He had noticed the increased tenseness and adjusted her body to avoid it. That realisation was terrifying and reassuring in equal measures.

She felt him get off the bed, though his hand remained a calming pressure on her skin at all times. A gentle pressure was laid over her torso, just under her breasts, and as it tightened her body was further immobilised by what she realised was a strap. A second strap followed the first just over her breasts. Both straps were tight but not painful, smooth lines of warming leather on her overheated skin. 

"I am just making sure that you cannot move suddenly and risk hurting yourself." His voice was an anchor in her world, a deep note of calm in her rising nervousness. It almost failed to stave off the waves of panic when he gently lifted her right leg and bent it to attach a thigh cuff to the side of the bed, leaving her exposed. She tried to struggle but he had ensured that her range of movement was already so limited that any resistance was ineffective at best. Quickly he attached a second cuff on her other thigh and tightened the ankle restraints, leaving her laid out on the bed, restrained and open, her legs parted and bent, entirely helpless and accessible to his touch. 

"You have no idea how beautiful you are like this – splayed for my desire, unable to resist the pleasure I can give you."


Author Bio

In "real" life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn't an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me - like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica - come talk to me: 



Pre-order blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.


Sunday, August 7, 2016

Passion's Last Prmise


Out Now—Passion’s Last Promise (Club Aegis #4) by Christie Adams 

Blurb: 

Hers to protect…his to serve…

When a failed kidnap attempt leads to CEO Dr. Simon Northwood acquiring a bodyguard, he isn’t prepared for close protection specialist Ros Edwards, a former captain in the Royal Military Police. Experienced submissive though he is, having a woman stand between him and any further threat is completely untenable.

Assigned to protect the genius behind a project of national importance, Ros unexpectedly encounters the most delicious man she’s met in a long time. As a Domme, she’d love to play with him, but even if he weren’t in need of her professional skills, there’s no way he’s submissive.

A determined man. A stubborn woman. When passion flirts with danger, the last promise is the toughest one of all…

Buy links: 

Amazon
All Romance eBooks
iBooks
Kobo

Excerpt: 

“Problems, Miss Edwards?”

“Not at all, Dr. Northwood.” She turned towards him and slipped the smartphone back into her jacket pocket. “A minor logistical issue, that’s all. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I was wondering if we were still on schedule to depart for Oxford as planned.” From what he’d heard, Simon had his doubts.

“Of course, sir. As I said, a minor logistical issue.” She paused, fixing him with her coolly assessing gaze. “I was just about to make coffee—would you care to join me?”

He had a conference call in a few minutes, his third of the day, but Simon suddenly found himself more in need of a shot of caffeine, and another opportunity to try to goad her into going Domme on him. He’d been trying all week, and this morning was the closest he’d come yet. He strode over to the desk to call his PA.

“Alicia? Can you let Martin know that he’ll be handling the finance call in ten? Give him my apologies—something’s come up that requires my attention elsewhere. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and turned his attention back to his bodyguard. “I don’t mind if I do, Miss Edwards.”

She gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. He watched her disappear into the adjoining kitchen, only to hear seconds later the crash of breaking glass followed by the colourful and creative cursing he was coming to associate with his beautiful bodyguard. Simon headed for the epicentre of the disaster.

As if someone had flicked a switch, his nonchalant attitude came to an abrupt end. Ros was running her hand under the tap, washing away the blood that was oozing from a cut to her hand. Broken glass littered the worktop and the floor.

Simon’s protective instincts kicked into action, sweeping aside all thoughts of provoking her again. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “Let me help.”

“It’s all right, I can manage.”

“No—you can’t. What happened?”

To his surprise, she allowed him to take her hand in his. Strong and capable, it was at the same time neat and feminine, with short but immaculately manicured nails. No rings, but as he’d told himself the first time he’d checked, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“Kamikaze glassware.” Ros glanced up at the open cupboard. “When I was getting the mugs to make the coffee, I accidentally nudged a couple of tumblers. They decided to take their name seriously and try out for the Olympic gymnastics team. I can tell you now, their technique sucked.”

Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at the latest glimpse of her taste in humour. She’d caught him unawares like that once or twice before, with a little nugget of dry wit. “What were you trying to do? Catch them or juggle with them?”

She shot him a dark scowl. At that precise moment, she looked more like the recipient of a sense of humour bypass, then he realised she was more annoyed with herself.

“I was picking up the pieces. Some of the shards started slipping out of my hands and I grabbed at them on instinct. Stupid thing to do. At least it’s not my right hand.”

He quirked a questioning eyebrow.

“Trigger finger.” She waggled the digit at him. “Can’t pull a trigger if I’m bandaged up.”

“Or if you end up slicing through tendons.” Simon’s slightly harsh tone was a reflection of his discomfort at the way she spoke so candidly of using firearms. “A dustpan and brush might have been safer than trying to pick up the broken glass.” He nodded in the direction of the tall corner cupboard.

For a moment she looked like she was about to argue, but then the change in her expression and a tiny, careless shrug acknowledged the truth of his words. Simon turned his attention to her injuries. There were some superficial cuts but the main one wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought—she’d probably get away without needing any stitches in it. Having confirmed there was no glass in the wound, he pulled on some surgical gloves and ripped open a sachet containing an antiseptic wipe.

She was standing so close now. He tried not to be distracted by the calm rise and fall of her breasts, or the subtle floral scent of her perfume. He tried not to respond to her steady gaze resting squarely on him. He tried not to think of the probable reasons why a former RMP officer never even flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.

Having put a couple of Steri-Strips on the cut, he then made the move that was his downfall. It was the small, insignificant act of glancing up at Ros’ face. She was staring at his hands in rapt fascination, lips slightly parted, almost inviting a kiss.

Carpe diem. The Latin phrase blazed through Simon’s mind like a meteor. She hadn’t responded to provocation, so perhaps a different tactic was called for. He swept aside the memory of the altercation they’d had a few hours earlier, focusing instead on this moment.

Simon pulled off the surgical gloves with a snap. In a club, he’d never dream of doing what he was about to do—it went against everything he’d been trained for, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.

Before Ros could move away from him, he took her uninjured hand in his and raised it to his lips. Before his inner voice could convince him he was making a huge mistake, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

“Dr. Northwood.”

He wasn’t expecting the sound of his name to send a delicious shiver through his body. The formality, though…just as guilty of that as she was, maybe even more so, but he wanted it to end. “Simon.”

Desire would be held back no longer—he claimed the sweetness of her mouth, and prepared to take his punishment for crashing through her boundaries…

Author Bio: 

After winning an erotic short story competition, Christie Adams waited over twenty years to follow it up with her first full-length erotic romance. The second publisher she approached picked it up, and after a brief spell with them, she moved into the exciting world of indie publishing.

When she was asked about how she got into writing, Christie realized she’s been putting pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—for longer than she thought. It all started in her teens, with stories featuring characters from her favourite TV shows—usually action dramas—but in her imagination, those characters were given a romantic life to go with the all-action one their audiences saw.

From there, she progressed to romantic novels featuring characters of her own invention, but success eluded her until she spotted the erotic short story competition in a magazine. Christie lives in north-west England. When not at the day job, she can usually be found wrestling with the characters in her latest novel. Occasionally she finds time for sleep, and maintains her social skills through, among other things, regular attendance at a pub quiz, which forces her to think about other things besides plots and characterization.

Sunday, July 31, 2016

Mean Girls



Out Now! Mean Girls – M/F BBW Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) 


Mean Girls, a M/F erotic romance by Lucy Felthouse, with Rubenesque and body confidence themes, has been re-released with a stunning new cover and a lower price! Please note, however, if you’ve read it before, that the content hasn’t changed.

Blurb: 

Adele Blackthorne is a big girl, a curvy chick. She knows it, and she’s been picked on all her life because of it. But she’s gotten to the stage where she doesn’t care. She may be Rubenesque, but she’s healthy, too. Much healthier than the mean girls at the leisure center that point and stare and say spiteful things about her. Adele rises above it all, and simply enjoys her secretive glances at the center’s hunky lifeguard, Oliver.

As the bullying of Adele becomes worse, Oliver finds it increasingly difficult not to intervene. He doesn’t want to get into trouble with work, but equally he can’t stand to see Adele treated in such a horrible way. Especially since he doesn’t agree that she’s fat and unattractive. He thinks she’s a seriously sexy woman, and would like to get to know her better. Much better.

Buy links:
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
Add to Goodreads

Excerpt: 

As usual, Adele Blackthorne felt the weight of gazes on her as she walked from the changing room to the steps to get into the swimming pool. She was used to it by now, and had learned not to react, to just carry on as though she hadn’t noticed people staring and not-so-subtly pointing at her.

With a polite nod to Oliver, the lifeguard, as she passed him, Adele was grateful for his much more favorable reaction. If he thought she resembled a beached whale, he hid it much better than everyone else did. The warmth in his eyes as he nodded back even looked genuine. But she had no illusions, he probably slagged her off the moment he got into the staffroom, or home, talking about the fat woman who went swimming three times a week without fail. But for now, she’d pretend he didn’t. Pretend he thought she was sexy, and wanted to get lost in her abundant curves. God knows she’d like him to.

It was true, she was a big girl and she was most definitely aware of it. Ever since she’d gotten to the age where her excess weight could no longer be called puppy fat, she’d tried to do something about it. Every diet under the sun, ridiculous amounts of exercise… nothing worked. Adele had grown so depressed in her teens that she’d become bulimic. Naturally, she’d lost some weight that way, but she’d also made herself so ill that she’d had to be hospitalized. It had terrified the life out of her, and ever since, she’d resolved that she’d much rather be healthy than skinny.

Which was why she visited her local leisure center three times a week. She used the gym and sauna, and went swimming. And every single time she went, she’d catch someone gawping at her. But because of the years she’d spent—especially at school—being called all the names under the sun, she’d developed an incredibly thick skin. She was happy and healthy—so healthy in fact that she could probably beat all of those skinny bitches at a swimming race. Of course she never offered, never called anyone out on their rudeness and ignorance, but it made her feel better to know that she was fitter and much more polite than them.

Slipping into the fast lane, she settled her goggles carefully into position—she hated getting water in her eyes—then lifted her legs to rest the bottoms of her feet against the end of the pool. Looking at the clock on the wall that counted seconds, she waited until the hand reached the top, then pushed off from the side and launched herself into the lane. It was quiet, so she had this section of the pool to herself. Her arms cut through the water, her legs flapped wildly and she did ten laps without losing any speed. Emerging from the water, she checked the clock again and was pleased to note she’d beaten her previous time.

She was just about to start another ten laps, when she heard voices from the other side of the pool. Voices that clearly forgot how well they carried on water. It was as though they were right next to her.

“God, I’m surprised all the water doesn’t jump out of the pool when she gets in. And the way she swims—she’ll cause a tidal wave one of these days.”

The spiteful words were followed by a trio of sniggers, and Adele gritted her teeth. Part of her wished that she could create a bloody tidal wave, so it would sweep those bitches under water and drown them. The other part of her tsked at the thought. Ideas like that made her just as bad as them, just as unpleasant, just as cowardly.

Because they were cowardly—the way they spoke about her behind her back proved that. If they ever passed her somewhere in the leisure center or its car park, they never said anything, not one word. They’d just scurry away as fast as they could, then titter when they thought she was out of earshot. She hoped that just one time, someone would say something to her face, so she could retaliate, speak up for herself. There was no way she’d start anything—she didn’t want to add confrontational to the list of faults that the mean girls had obviously compiled about her.

Sucking in a deep breath, Adele launched into another ten laps, allowing the chilly water and the exertion of powering through it to burn away her irritation. Because that’s all it was—irritation. She wasn’t angry. Anger was too powerful an emotion, and one that was totally wasted on those ignorant women. She almost felt sorry for them, actually. If they had nothing better to do than to stare at her and slag her off all the time, then they clearly had very dull lives.

The thought cheered her considerably and when she completed her twentieth lap, she lay her forearms on the edge of the pool and hoiked herself up. Her back was pressed against the side, and from here she had a perfect view of the rest of the pool. Tugging her goggles down so they hung around her neck, she had a damn good look at everyone else. The small children and their guardians in the kids’ pool right at the other end of the enormous hall, the old people who swum so slowly as they chatted that she was surprised they stayed afloat, the relentless movement of the man in the medium-speed lane and, of course, the mean girls who were in the same sort of position she was, but at the side of the pool rather than the end. The side which faced the lifeguard station.

Adele narrowed her eyes and watched them—the two waif-like blondes and a brunette—as they chatted and giggled, and it seemed for a change, not about her. They’d clearly changed the subject since their previous spouting of vitriol. Their focus was very firmly on Oliver as he sat on his lofty perch, surveying the pools before him, ready to jump in should anyone get into trouble. She often toyed with the idea of faking a problem, just to get him into the pool and his strong arms around her. However, she knew that although he’d undoubtedly do his duty and help her, he’d never believe such a strong swimmer would need his assistance. Then he’d lose all respect for her, and probably stop hiding his disdain for her so effectively. And the polite nods and smiles she got from him were the only thing—aside from the center’s top-notch facilities—that made the place bearable. She was sure that if the three witches—a nickname she’d secretly come up with for the women—had their way, there would be a sign on the main doors to the building saying ‘No Fat People Allowed.’

About the Author:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

A Variety of Chains


Cover Reveal! A Variety of Chains - Paranormal erotic romance by Christine Blackthorn (@CBlackthorn) 

Blurb:

Kathryn McCulsky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.

She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.

Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power.

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.

Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?

Pre-order links:

Amazon UK
Amazon US

Add to Goodreads

Note: A Variety of Chains will be available through all main online bookstores in print and digital on the 20th of August.

Excerpt: 

It was inevitable where this evening was going to lead. For an ErGer to bond, the mind needed to be broken open as only sex could – and her own body would force it soon enough.

"Pick up the wine and take a sip," he said.

"I don't drink," she replied.

His eyes remained expressionless, as was his voice when he spoke again. "It was not a request." 

Absolute obedience for the safety of the girls. 

She reached for the glass and took a small sip. As she tried to put it back down, his hands tightened on her waist and brought her attention back to him mid-movement.

"I am thirsty, too."

She offered him the glass, but he shook his head. "My hands are full."

To illustrate this fact he began to trace little half circles over her belly with his thumbs. She tried to offer the glass to his lips but he shook his head again.

"Not like that." There was a hint of amusement in his eyes and a twitch to his lips. Instead, she tried to offer her wrist, but that simply made him raise an eyebrow.

"How then?" She felt the desperation in her own voice and tried to suppress it while making the cold return.

"Take a sip and hold it in your mouth."

She was starting to have an idea where this was leading. She tried to lean forward to feed him the wine but his hands kept her from him.

"Set down the glass first, then let me drink from your mouth."

Carefully she put down the glass before leaning forward. In her haste and nervousness she parted her lips before touching his and spilled most of the wine down her chin and his neck. She froze in terror, aware of the strength in the hands around her waist and the sharp teeth entirely too close to her. His lips parted and his tongue snaked out to lazily lap at the liquid dripping down her lips and chin. Only when he had cleaned her thoroughly did he allow her to move back enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes fell to his mouth and the spilled wine that painted his neck and shirt red. Small droplets were still caught in the evening shadow of the beard along his cheeks.

"Clean it!"

The first flick of her tongue was tentative at best, barely a touch, but when he moved his head to allow her more access she became bolder. The taste of his skin, mixed with that of the red wine, filled her mouth – unidentifiable, subtle and strange. As her tongue reached his neck, his arousal grew impossibly large beneath her, pressing against the folds of her sex through only two layers of clothes. She shied back – feeling stupid immediately. It was inevitable where this evening was going to lead. For an ErGer to bond, the mind needed to be broken open as only sex could – and her own body would force it soon enough. In her experience, he had shown more patience than any other. Every Lord who had ever acquired her, either because her brother had sold her to them or because they had tracked her down, had taken her blood and body within minutes of their acquaintance. What was the point of delay?

Author Bio: 

In "real" life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn't an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me - like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica - come talk to me:

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Sunday, July 3, 2016

Surprising Myself

This week's guest is Lea Bronsen...



Thank you for hosting my first audio release, the erotica anthology SURPRISING MYSELF!

What is your secret fantasy? That one thing you dream of doing but have never had the chance to fulfill in real life… Thirteen writers present sexy, steamy stories of women getting the chance to live out their personal fantasies. What’s yours? Whether it’s several lovers at the same time for a pulse-pounding ménage scene or the allure of getting caught in public, these stories will set your mind ablaze. From voyeurism in a sex club to swinging, cuckolding to cosplay, SURPRISING MYSELF brings you stories from thirteen hot new writers to watch out for and just might make you think about fulfilling your own wildest fantasy.  

Surprising-Myself-cover-audio
 

ABOUT LEA BRONSEN'S STORY "COME ABOARD"

Lorna, a young American reporter, travels to a port town in France to cover a yacht race. She hopes she’ll be able to experience her wildest fantasy on the beach – sex in public. Due to getting on the wrong train, she has an argument with the controller, who she finds both immensely sexy and annoyingly arrogant.

When he brings her to the engine, pretending to restrain her but instead getting intimate with her, she sees the opportunity to live out her fantasy…  

TRAILER

 

EXCERPT

If lucky, I might even meet a handsome Frenchman with whom to spend Saturday night. I’m single, have been for the past few months, and at twenty-three, the lack of sex for such a long time is driving me half-nuts. An interlude with a local hotness on one of the warm beaches of Sables sounds like an irresistible idea. Yes, a beach, or any other public place. The eBook I’m reading features a heroine getting the fuck of her life in an open park at night against a tree in full view of passersby. I want that kind of excitement, too. The three boyfriends I’ve had in the past few years were good in bed but not daring enough. I yearn for someone to do something crazy and a little forbidden with me, in public visibility. Surely, that hint of dangerousness, the possibility of being caught by the authorities, should increase the sexual experience—and our orgasms—tenfold.

For now, I’ll have to do with checking out the cute Maghrebian controller while waiting for him to examine my ticket. Row after row, he walks the narrow aisle toward me, distributing polite smiles to the passengers and answering questions. Tall and broad-shouldered, he has the looks and build of a soccer player. A black tribal tattoo appears below the short sleeve of his purple shirt and travels down his sun-kissed, muscular forearm. Beneath his gray cap, he sports a short buzz cut, and two or three days’ worth of black beard stubble covers his cheeks and chin, just enough to make him…oh, God, immensely sexy. With full lips, a strong nose, and black olive-shaped eyes, he’s a gem of North Africa, an exotic, roughly polished jewel. He would definitely fit in my fuck-on-the-beach fantasy.  

BOOK LINKS

Audio: Insatiable Press / Amazon EBook: Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Barnes & Noble / Kobo Preview the book on Amazon Add the book to Goodreads See pictures on Pinterest  

ABOUT LEA BRONSEN

Lea Bronsen

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic contemporary romance. I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on: Website / Lea's Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon  


Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Love's Sweet Magic


Cover Reveal for Love’s Sweet Magic @Dawn_Roberto, #NewRelease, #ParanormalRomance


Coming in July from Fireborn publishing~ Love’s Sweet Magic (Devon Falls 1)

A chance meeting at a sweet shop... Can it be love? 

Jenna Stevens wasn't looking for love, nor did she believe it would walk into her life one holiday season. Marc du Bree needs to find his destined mate so he can take over the family duties from his father. Meeting Jenna, Marc finds the connection he has been searching for. Can he convince this gun shy woman that his love is indeed true? 

CONTENT ADVISORY: This is a significantly re-edited and expanded re-release title. It was originally released as STICKY MAGIC by Raine Delight. 

Release date: July 22nd, 2016
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance, Contemporary
Pairing: MF

Pre-order at: Fireborn Publishing

About Devon Falls Series: 

Welcome to Devon Falls, founded in 1784 by four families with one goal: to find a town where they can live without their special gifts coming to light. The Stevens families were master bakers from France with an affinity for magic, the Dracon families owned a hotel in London and were shape-shifters, the Sinclair families were skilled in the art of building in Germany and were dream walkers, and the Craven families were talented musicians from Russia with an ability to manipulate the elements. They all found freedom and contentment to use their gifts in the new town they called Devon Falls. As the years passed, the families grew and expanded. Love blossomed among the residents and the many newcomers, and the town flourished.

About the author: 

D.M. Roberto is a lover of books and a compulsive reader. Venturing into the world of GBLT, Ménage and erotic romance, she found her new favorite genre to explore. With time and lots of Johnny Depp movies to inspire her, D.M. Roberto creates heartfelt stories that hopefully readers will enjoy and fall in love with. Living with her two kids, a significant other who supports her every move in writing and doesn’t seem to mind she gets up at 2 am to type away on the computer. She looks forward to creating stories that readers will love and enjoy.

Social Media links:
Author blog
Author FB Page
General Facebook page 
Twitter

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