Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Coming Soon: Smut for Chocoholics

I'm so excited to have my story, Red Carpet Sweat, included in an upcoming anthology about...wait for it... chocolate!

Kevin Mitnik has put together this anthology, and I can't wait to read the other stories in it! Mine is about a super thin, size 0 Hollywood A-lister who panics just before she goes onto the red carpet at the Oscars about the two hundred calorie chocolate bar she's just munched. Luckily though her very obedient and sinfully hunky bodyguard is up for helping her burn a few calories before she has to squeeze into her dress - and no, he doesn't take her for a jog around the block! It's much more fun than that!

Due out soon Smut for Chocoholics is all about indulgence. Taking wicked delight in the erotic consumption and use of chocolate, with tales from some of erotica’s finest authors. Whatever your relationship with the seductive cocoa, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Keep an eye on Sexy Reads for more information - and of course on my blog.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013


First let me start out by saying that I appreciate review sites and their reviewers. Most are reliable, well established, great about letting you know when they post your book review, and give an honest review that may or may not hurt a little. Our publishers send our books out, when they are first published, to a lot of review sites. And I think I can speak for most authors when I say that we also send our books out. 

Last month a review site sent me an email saying one of their reviewers requested two of my books. Two very short erotic romances that hardly take any time to read. And I have yet to hear back from anyone. This has happened to me occasionally before, and I usually just shrug it off. No telling what happens between the time my book is requested and the time it's delivered to the reviewer. Also, some reviews are posted and the author isn't notified at all. I can't tell you how many reviews I've discovered on my own.

And I'm thrilled every time! I mean it. 

I know it sounds like I'm griping. I'm tired, I've been preparing like crazy for my next two releases that both happen to come out in March, and they've cancelled Flashpoint. I loved that show. LOL

All in all I can't complain about the reviews I have received over the years. With the exception of a very few, they have been good if not great. 

Monday, 25 February 2013

Special Guest - H K Carlton

When I began writing Lost Time, it was for my publisher’s seasonal Halloween call. But as I am notoriously wordy, I went way over the word count and ended up submitting the novel as a stand-alone. I also incorporated a little truth to this story, thanks to a friend of mine that travelled to the UK and had her own succession of mishaps that snagged my imagination immediately. An idea was born. It made a wonderful story. Thanks IR and Total-E-Bound for the inspiration.

Lost Time is an erotic time-travel romance.

I hope you enjoy it.



Within this frame, his curse is time…

Hannah Keys thinks she’s setting off on the trip of her dreams, but after one mishap after another—beginning with her best friend abandoning her in the airport and ending with the man of her dreams dead—she’s renaming it the vacation from hell.

When Hannah Keys discovers a four-hundred-year-old portrait in Wales, she is intrigued and somewhat saddened by the handsome Highlander portrayed by the artist’s masterful, lifelike strokes. But when she runs into the majorly hunky model for the painting—in the flesh, in the middle of the night—she learns first-hand all about masterful strokes when she shares a night of medieval passion with him.

Lockhart Munro has been cursed inside the portrait until he meets Hannah Keys. For four hundred years, no one has heard him or seen him, let alone touched him. The one woman who can do all these things may be the key to his long-awaited freedom.

But if Hannah sets Lockhart free from his prison, will she be cursed to spend the rest of her lifetime without him?
Or perhaps freeing Lockhart will be just the beginning…


Hannah touched her forehead, wondering if she were feverish. She felt very strange all of a sudden. It was like the room had taken on a life of its own. She felt and heard it breathing. It was as if she could see every particle in the room individually vibrating, moving, forming substance. Everything took on a silvery hue and wavered in front of her eyes. She leaned heavily on the counter to keep herself upright.

She was not alone.

Hannah shrieked, a strangled sound coming from her sore throat as the lightning illuminated the face of the real-life version of the man in the portrait. The blanket slipped from her shoulders. He was not far away from her. She wondered how he could have sneaked up on her like that without her hearing him. He was close enough to touch.

“It’s you,” she whispered. He was alive. The thought sent a thrill through her. “You scared me.”

“You scared me,” he repeated in a distinctive Scottish brogue. Another burst of sensation ran through her body at his accent. “You see me?”

“Barely,” she rasped, more from her awareness of him than the sore throat. “It’s so dark.” She reached towards him. He caught her hand and guided it towards his chest, splaying her fingers against its hard warmth. His lips parted on a sigh as though he were savouring her touch. A surge of energy shot through Hannah’s body as if all her molecules had suddenly come back together in one hot rush.

“You hear me?”

“Yes,” she answered, wondering why he was asking her these strange questions.

“You feel me?”

“Yes,” she answered, wanting to feel a whole lot more of him. He pushed her hand more solidly against his broad chest, giving her the impression he wanted it too. She moved closer, inexplicably drawn to him, just as she had been to the painting. He was even taller than she’d thought he would be. And, if possible, he was even more handsome than the artist had been able to portray. A rush of pure lust shot through her.

“It is you, isn’t it? From the painting.” She had assumed it was an old portrait, never giving thought that it might be more recent and that this glorious hunk of man might live here.

“Aye, ’tis.”

He traced his thumb leisurely over her bottom lip just as she’d done to his likeness in the painting. He swept his tongue slowly across his own lip as he continued to stare down at her. She shivered with anticipation.

“Is the sayin’ on your chemise the truth then, lass? Because true or no, I am goin’ to kiss ya,” he warned, leaning towards her. She couldn’t seem to remember her own name, let alone what her damn shirt read at that particular moment.

The minute his mouth touched hers, her body responded with a hot, liquid rush, her nipples straining against the lace covering her breasts. Her lips parted on a surprised hiss of sensation, her knees weakening as he deepened the kiss, insistently teasing her mouth open.

She clung to him, returning his kiss with growing heat. He kissed like a desperate man, a man who had no tomorrow. He broke free of her mouth and she whimpered at the loss.

He clamped a strong hand over her jaw, looking at her intensely. “You are real.”

“So are you,” she said, still somewhat surprised that he actually existed. She remembered the sudden bout of grief she’d endured up in her room, for a man she’d thought long dead. But he was real and he was here. And she didn’t care that she didn’t know one single thing about him, not even his name. It only heightened her fascination towards him. She wanted him to fuck her—no questions asked, no regrets later. She’d been turned on by just the image of him—the real thing made her burn.

She thrust both of her hands inside his shirt and was thrilled when she felt a tremor run the length of him, proof that he was just as affected as she was.

He pulled her forcibly against him, again seeking her lips. He was ravenous. Hungry. He wasn’t even gentle. He devoured her, robbing her of breath. She dragged her mouth free and he cascaded kisses over her jaw, down her neck, nipping hungrily against her skin. He was intoxicating. Her head swam at the unreality of the whole situation. He was a complete stranger.

The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on the scarred kitchen table, him moving over her. He ground his massive erection against her thigh, almost too eagerly, then he nudged her knees open with his own. Hannah protested and shifted under him.

“I’m sorry, lass, it has been a long time for me. You must remind me to be gentle.”

Hannah was strangely pleased to know that he hadn’t been with anyone recently. Neither had she—perhaps that explained why they were both so eager and he a little too rough.

He looked down at her, his chest heaving, waiting for her permission to continue.

“Kiss me, lass.” He grinned, his upper lip curving boyishly, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m Scottish.”

©Copyright H K Carlton 2013

Lost Time is also available at all other vendors today! Yay, Release Day!

Swap (erotic contemporary romance)

Streetlight People (ménage) Now Available for Pre-Order

Sunday, 24 February 2013

Paid in Full by Megan Slayer

Out Now! Want to celebrate the 9th Birthday of Changeling Press? 
Want to read the 2000th book pubbed by Changeling? Then look no farther than Soul Debt: Paid in Full by Megan Slayer. Full of MM hotness, with a pair of demons, The Devil, and a horny guy...with horns. Yes, he’s got horns! You won’t want to miss it! Here, check it out:

Soul Debt: Paid in Full by Megan Slayer
Number in Series: 1
BIN: 06226-02000
Word Count: 12K
Page Count: 40
Price: $3.99
Release Date: February 22, 2013
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Reneé George
Genres: Erotic Romance, Novella, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal
Themes: Gay, Dark Desire

Available HERE

Ever danced with the Devil? I have.
You know how people make deals with God? I made one with the Devil. For what, you ask? A boyfriend. Little did I know, the Devil would not only take me up on the deal, but make it worth both our whiles -- just not in the way I'd imagined. Turns out, nothing in my world is what it seemed.

How about an excerpt? Sure!

"Sir," he said, almost as if we weren't in the middle of fucking. "I like that." His grasp on my hair tightened. "Ask me."
Ask him? With him in my butt, he wanted me to use rational sentences? Jesus. His pubic hairs brushed my ass cheeks, and his balls slapped against mine.
"Tell me what you want." He swatted my hip. "Ask."
"I'm tired of being alone. I want to be loved." Not the question he wanted, but who cared?
He moved his hips, sawing in and out of my ass. I wouldn't last long. I wanted this fuck way too much. I closed my eyes again and panted.
"Fuck," he roared. His hips slammed into mine, thrusting me against the wall. "You want love, fine." He grunted, and his seed spurted in my ass. "You've got it."
Boy, did I have it. Come all in my butt and an ache to last at least three days. Best time yet. The Devil reached around me and curled his hand around my throbbing erection. He squeezed tight, then started to stroke me. I pressed my face against the cool plaster of the wall and trembled.
"I. Need. To. Come." I don't know how I formed the words.
"Come," he replied. The word came out in a whisper.
I panted and drenched the wall in my come. From my head to my toes, I wobbled. I'd never felt so spent in my whole damned life.
"You'll have love, but it won't be pretty, and I will come back for what's mine."
Through my post-coital haze, I heard him speak and tried to process what he'd said. Not pretty? I opened my eyes. My clothes clung to my body and my ass froze. He wasn't behind me? I glanced over my shoulder. No Devil. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I heard footsteps on the concrete stairs. Shit. The hallway went fuzzy, and I tripped pulling my pants up. Instead of looking cool, I fell flat on my face, pants around my knees.
"Alex, I believe the Devil has come to collect." Adam knelt next to me. "Don't tell me you've asked him for something."
I considered my answer. I could be honest and have them laugh. Or lie and see what happened.
"He did." A pair of arms hiked me back to my feet and the scent of Alex's cologne wrapped around me. "And he paid dearly," Alex said and rested his head on top of mine. "Sucks."
I wasn't sure what they meant, but I let the two of them escort me into my apartment. I tried to collapse on the couch, but Alex kept me in his embrace. "Nope, big guy, we're heading to the shower."
Adam looked me straight in the eye. "Then we've got to talk."

* * * * * 

When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.
When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best. The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite--on command.
She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Changeling Press, Liquid Silver Books, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Megan’s website
Megan’s blog
Megan on Amazon
Megan on Goodreads
Megan on Facebook
Megan on Twitter

Saturday, 23 February 2013

Confessions of a Naughty Nighty Nurse by Lily Harlem

If you fancy reading the steamy first chapter of Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, head on over to D Renee Bagby's First Chapter Blog and immerse yourself in a world that will get you blood pressure rising and your temperature soaring!

Friday, 22 February 2013

Something Else That Drives Me Crazy... Potholes

By Lucy Felthouse

Oh dear, I seemed to have developed a real liking for ranting. So here I am again, having a moan about potholes, this time. I've included the details on my latest release underneath, though, so you've got some light relief afterwards ;)

Sooo... potholes. Totally rife at this time of year. Very annoying, dangerous and potentially extremely expensive. My dad was at a garage recently (a non-pothole related tyre replacement) and he saw a total knackered wheel - yes, the wheel as well as the tyre was totally fucked. Turns out the driver had hit a pothole in a local village - a very posh village, actually, with a private school. Apparently, even having toffs milling about obviously isn't enough to make the council cough up.

The thing that annoys me about potholes is the fact that as a person that owns a car, and therefore pays an extortionate amount of car tax, I've already paid for the road repairs. Myself and however many other millions of motorists are putting money in the banks of the respective councils, whether or not anything needs doing to the roads or not. It does, of course, as potholes are an ongoing problem that will never be stopped unless some boffin invents a new road surface that doesn't crack and crumble. Of course, if they did, it would be deemed too expensive to  use, anyway, although it would no doubt pay for itself within a year or two.

They're not so bad on local roads, where the speed limit is much lower, as the motorist has time to see the pothole and take measures to avoid it. Obviously, swerving isn't always possible, if traffic is on the other side of the road, or if the road is narrow, but if you absolutely have to go through a pothole, a crawl is much better than a zoom, naturally. Even then they judder the entire car and the people in it, which still can't be doing much good for the vehicle - through no fault of the driver's.

What does drive me completely mad and also scares me is potholes on dual carriageways and motorways. I use a busy dual carriageway and motorway on a regular basis, and they're currently both riddled with potholes. I've even described some of them as craters, they're so bloody big. And on those fast roads, they're a death trap, in my opinion. In daylight, you can see them and take preventative action - again, if you have enough room to manoeuvre around them - but some appear from nowhere, and before you know it, you've thundered up and down a horrible bump and your teeth are rattling. And you're also pretty paranoid that you've buggered up your tyres, your wheels, your suspension or something else. And it's not your fault.

In the dark, it's terrifying. You know they're there, but because there's traffic everywhere, you can't put on your full beam lights, so the holes really do appear out of nowhere, and you don't have enough time to avoid them. I've spent several journeys now, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life, and hoping I don't hit a crater.

And as for people going too fast, well, I'm surprised there haven't been more accidents. Some of the holes are genuinely big enough that I bet if someone hit them wrong, they could end up flipping their car over. And imagine the damage that could cause - to people, to cars, to lives. But of course, it could happen to someone doing the speed limit, too. Someone could just get unlucky, and then all hell would break loose.

You may be able to apply to have councils to pay for tyres and car repairs because of the shitty road surfaces, but what amount of money is going to replace the loss of life? Come on councils, pull your socks up. I know money's tight, but motorists are pre-paying for these bloody repairs to keep us safe and mobile, and you're not doing them. Sooner or later, something really bad is going to happen, and that's going to be on you.

P.S. Yes, most of the potholes are on the inside lanes, so common sense would say additional traffic and heavier vehicles are making the problem worse. As a result, middle-lane-hoggers are actually pretty sensible to stay where they are - for once, I can't blame them!


Four kinky and erotic BDSM tales from the smutty pen of Lucy Felthouse.

Balancing the Books
Philip’s a well off man, and doesn’t need a job. But when he sees the gorgeous owner of his local bookshop, he applies for the role that’s being advertised there immediately. He’s totally stricken by the stunning Giovanna, and when it turns out she wants to boss him around in a sexual sense as well as an employment sense, he has no intention of refusing.

Feeling the Heat
Taylor and Maisie’s car has broken down. Luckily, Taylor’s handy with engines and is working hard to get them back on the road. Unfortunately, Maisie is getting annoyed at the amount of time he’s spending in the garage and confronts him. Instead of arguing back, though, Taylor comes up with an ingenious plan to keep Maisie quiet.

The Perfect Dom
Part of Mia’s nightwear is a pair of hotpants with SPANK ME emblazoned across the arse. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but when she forgets that she has a houseguest and heads to the kitchen for a drink, she’s shocked to find Alex in her living room. Immediately spotting what he sees as an invitation written across Mia’s bottom, Alex makes an offer and Mia soon discovers that he is, in fact, the perfect dom.

Meet Me at the Spanish Steps
Darby is working at a holiday camp on the outskirts of Rome and is getting along just fine, with the exception of her sex life. For various reasons, she’s not getting what she wants in the bedroom, and her tastes are very particular. She turns to the Internet to get what she needs, and when she discovers William, it seems that he’s more than willing—and capable—of scratching that particular itch.

More info, excerpt and buy links:


Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Special Smut by the Sea offer for Valentine’s Day and beyond!

Victoria Blisse is here to tell us all about a very special event!

It’s recently been Valentine’s day and we all looked for something special to give to our loved ones. Sometimes though Valentine’s gifts last for no time at all, flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten, champagne drank. How about treating your other half to a great day out by the sea with extra added smutty fun?

Well, we’re offering Smut by the Sea tickets for £7.50 from now until  25st February 2013. This is a 25% off the usual price. This ticket will get you in to the Smut by the Sea Book launch with free nibbles and a glass of something bubbly plus readings that will get you in the mood for some seaside good loving.

Smut by the Sea takes place on the 22nd June at Scarborough Library. The event runs all day with readings and an erotic marketplace during the day (10am-4pm), featuring top authors like KD Grace, Janine Ashbless, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Slave Nano and Ruby Kiddell.  And then the evening will showcase Smut by the Sea volumes 1&2 between 6-9 pm.

Pick up tickets for your beloved today and give a gift that will keep on giving! For more details check and buy your tickets here

Monday, 18 February 2013

Outback Adventures

So for something completely different, I thought I’d share some pictures of the non-writing side of my lifeJ I live in Australia, and in my “real life” job once or twice a year I get to travel out of the city and into some of the more remote – and beautiful – places of my country. While I love travelling overseas and seeing different countries and cultures, there’s something out the Australian Outback that I just can never let go of, it’s ingrained deeply into my heart and soul and I can't imagine living permanently in any other place.
I’ve seen sunrises to die for:
 and been to beaches that could grace any magazine cover and make you just crave to feel the sun on your face and sand between your toes:
 Most recently I’ve been to more traditional Outback Australia both the scrub near the Blue Mountains:
and also into our gorgeous Red Centre:
While I know as a country we’re kinda in the middle of nowhere, difficult and expensive to get to – I hope some of these pictures can whet your appetite and give you a tantalising glimpse of just what a stunning variety of landscapes we have, and how overpowering the beauty of my land can be.

And hey - feel free to check out my Agency series over at Total E-Bound or my Urban Seductions series over at Ellora's Cave
Elizabeth Lapthorne