Monday, 30 September 2013

Sexy M/M High-Sticked gets Brilliant Reviews



High-Sticked has been getting a pile of 5* reviews which has absolutely thrilled me as this is my first m/m novel to hit the shelves. It's the 5th book in my Hot Ice series but many of you will know that these books can all be enjoyed as standalone reads. The characters from other stories flit in and out but each book is about a different player's journey finding love and satisfaction!

Here is what readers on Amazon are saying about Todd and Matthew's story...

"HOLY HELL I really loved this book. Todd "Pretty" Carty is back and finding a love of his own finally! He is used to having one night stands but he finally finds the one for him in the most unexpected way... He always knew something was off and he always wanted to try something but he was always afraid. Oh Lily does know how to write one fantastic book! She even brought back Raven and Fiona back in this one to meet his significant other. Let's just say they were a little shocked but it all ends well. This is a must read series. It helps to read them in order but they don't necessarily need to be..."


* * * *

"High-Sticked by Lily Harlem was sexy and sultry as life for Matthew and Todd played out on and off the ice rink. Todd Carty, forward for the Rangers ice hockey team finally decided to take the bull by the horns and admitted to himself that he is not only gay, but has fallen for photographer Matthew Foster. Matthew Foster was out and proud with a circle of wonderful friends that formed his family.

Life was not easy as the two began to bond after meeting on an Armani shoot in which the hockey phenomenon was the star. Todd decided that if he was going to be in a relationship with Matthew then it would not be a dirty little secret. Unfortunately being a professional athlete in a world of macho men brought its own set of conflicts and mountains to climb.

As always Ms. Harlem produced a sexy and loving tale as the two men grew closer together. Sexual intercourse was not the center of the story as Todd and Matthew found sensuality in their shared existence. But have no fear, when they finally came together the sex was explosive.

Ms. Harlem delivered passion and grace as she wrote of their caresses and exploration. The slow build-up of a new relationship was meaningfully delivered as the author traveled the line of friendship to love.

The secondary characters added substance and depth to the story as each had a vested interest in the happiness of Todd and Matthew. High-Sticked was a wonderful addition to the Hot Ice series and should not be missed."


* * * * 

"This is the story of Todd `Pretty' Carty, who we've heard a little about in Teamwork, the previous book in this series. He's moved to New York City and a new hockey team, and things are going great. He's doing a shoot for Armani to help promote their latest fragrance for men, and he's working with a top-notch photographer.

That photographer is British-born Matthew Foster, a gay man who's fancied Todd since he first laid eyes on him. But he doesn't think any more of it. Todd's a notorious womaniser, so he certainly wouldn't look at another guy... or would he? The story that follows is about how the two men eventually come together, and how that impacts them, their lives, their friends and family, and, inevitably, the media. It's a really hard time for Todd, who's coming to terms with his sexuality and his feelings for Matthew all at once.

Although this book, and all the others in the Hot Ice series are stand-alones, in my opinion, it's much better if you read them all in order. As well as Todd, other characters from Teamwork appear in High-Sticked and you'll have much more context and a richer experience if you know the full story. Plus if you adore the characters as much as I do, you'll be really pleased to see them again and see what's happened to them since the last book.

To me, it didn't make the slightest difference that this is the first m/m in the series. I love Lily Harlem's storytelling, the way she develops her characters, her plots, her writing style and her incredibly hot sex scenes. This was another excellent book in a fantastic series, and I can't wait to see which character from this "world" that she's going to write about next. Highly recommended."


* * * *




"The first time I saw the cover of High-Sticked by Lily Harlem, I had to read it as soon as possible despite the fact that it's book 5 of her Hot Ice series about hockey players. I'm a huge fan of m/m stories and was happy to learn that I could read this as a standalone. I'm so glad I did because I just loved the relationship between Todd and Matthew and how they took the time to get to know each other before taking it to the next level. I liked that they were able to tell one another about their past relationships and express their feelings without fear of judgment. Don't get me wrong, they did indulge in some foreplay which was just as sexy and a turn-on. I enjoyed how tender and caring Matthew was with Todd when they finally had sex because it was Todd's first time having intercourse with another man. What made it even more special was that their relationship was based on friendship. They looked out for one another when the truth about them exploded on and off the ice. Matthew also had some hang-ups about being left behind but Todd was able to reassure him that he was in this relationship for the long haul. Friends from Todd's sexual past also appeared in this story and now I'm looking forward to reading their history as well as all the other books in this series. The author did a great job writing this story and making me love and care about these characters."



You can find out more about Hot Ice on my website and if you want to read the books in order here they are...








Book #5 High-Sticked


Coming Soon - Misconduct (M/F)

Thursday, 26 September 2013

The Game


Out now from Natalie Dae. A dark and twisted BDSM love story based in Oxford and a brilliant addition to the series after the success of the The Contract


The Game, part of The Masters of Oxford Series.


Blurb

Stretton is a Master—and also a gangster in a firm handed down to him by his father. He’s done bad things, things most people would find appalling. But Stretton isn’t wicked right down to his marrow. He wants love, a good life, but the woman he’s fallen in love with is from the opposite side of life. Someone he shouldn’t adore but does. Someone who can put him in jail with the click of finger against thumb.

Violet is a submissive—and also policewoman, working undercover as a prostitute in order to get close to Stretton. She’s on the game and also playing a dangerous one. She knows his bad side, his faults, yet she loves him still. Her morals tell her she shouldn’t be with him, but her heart says otherwise. How can she continue to spy on him, knowing that she could be the one who has to slap the cuffs on his wrists and read him his rights?

As the time for one of Stretton’s dodgy dealings draws closer, when the police cast their net to catch him, Violet has to extricate herself from his life. She can’t bring herself to do it and acknowledges that in order to be with him, she may well have to turn bad too. Do things she’d said she’d never do, breaking the very law she’d promised to uphold. But love is a strong emotion, one she cannot deny, and being with him becomes her sole purpose. 

Stretton must learn to love, to give up his way of life for his woman. Violet must learn to trust, to give up her way of life for her man. Two hearts, two very different people, but with the same goal in their future. And they intend to score it. No matter what.


Find out more about Natalie and her awesome books on her website.

Wednesday, 25 September 2013

A Hat Trick by Lucy Felthouse

I'm celebrating a hat trick of releases. Three! Well, sort of. One is a brand new release, and the other two are re-releases of books which I gained the rights back to. So here goes, starting with the brand new book...

Mean Girls

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.

More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/mean-girls/

A Bit of Rough

When Alison meets Andrew, she instantly pegs him as a moron. He’s a total bad boy and does nothing but chain smoke and brag about his stream of past conquests. Yet, much to her confusion, Alison still finds herself attracted to him. She’s not had sex in a while, so Alison figures there’s no harm in going home with him to get herself a bit of rough.

More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-bit-of-rough/

A Menu with a Difference

Will a weekend in a luxury hotel make Annette’s deepest fantasies come true?

When Jed and Annette spend a weekend in a luxury hotel, they’re planning to take full advantage of the hot tub and large bed – preferably with a third party. Annette’s never been with another woman before, but she’s eager to experience some Sapphic delight. When the couple meets waitress Tamara at the restaurant they’re lunching at, they agree she’s perfect in many ways; but is she on the menu?

More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-menu-with-a-difference/

*****

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, 2013 and 2014 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 http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Monday, 23 September 2013

Two Golden Rules When Writing Romance

You don't kill off the hero, and you have a happy ending, or at least a happily for now ending. Don't you agree? If you're reading fiction, and it's a romance, wouldn't you expect it to end happily? I would. I read romances to feel good.

Not too long ago I read an erotic, Viking romance. For the most part I liked the story, yet it wasn't erotic by any means. The sex was good, but there wasn't enough of it. Then there was the problem with the ending. The author killed off the hero, leaving his lady love alone, and pregnant.

I was so pissed! I didn't see it coming. And my disappointment was reflected in my review. Once the hero was killed off that was it for me. As far as I was concerned it ruined the whole romance. Looking at the other reviews, it was clear others felt the same way.

So let this be a warning my friends, you won't be reading any books written by me that ends with a dead hero.

Saturday, 21 September 2013

Scored is FREE!



That's right, my sexy soccer novel SCORED is FREE for a limited time only on Amazon. Quick, go, run, grab your copy and let Lewis Tate heat up your ereader! And if you enjoy please feel free to leave a review on Goodreads or Amazon and tell all of your friends.

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Special Guest - Katalina Leon




Blurb

Maya Rousseau’s fantasy vacation in Avignon, France, heats up when an eccentric enchantress tricks her into drinking mojo-laced absinthe. An unexpected encounter with the green fairy causes Maya’s reality to have a serious meltdown. She travels back in time and wakes up naked in the bed of her favorite bad-boy Bohemian artist, the tall, dark and mysterious André Bosco. There’s nothing wrong with that—except it’s 1903.


For André, it’s love at first sight. He begs Maya to become his cherished model, muse and lover. The chemistry and shared passion between them are overwhelming. André’s a generous-hearted dream man, but there’s a catch. Every hour they spend together bonds them tighter and time is running out. The same powers that flung Maya back to 1903 are preparing to snatch her back.

With a hundred and ten years separating these soul-bound lovers, it’s uncertain whether they can find a happy ending without the help of a little magic and La Fée Verte.


Inside Scoop: Story contains super-hot sex with an unattainable man, enchanted hallucinatory beverages, mischievous time-twisters, green fairies and a touch of voyeurism.

* * * *

Have you ever tasted Absinthe? It’s strange, beautiful stuff and something of an acquired taste. Straight from the bottle it’s an earthy golden-green similar in hue to high quality olive oil. When mixed with water it becomes an enchanted, cloudy shade of pale opalescent jade. The mysterious green transformation is where the legend of La Fée Verte, the green fairy begins. In cafés of the 19th century a patron would be served a fluted, parfait style glass, a small pitcher of water, a filigree spade-shaped spoon that often was a work of art in itself, and a tiny dish of chunky oblong sugar cubes.

The patron would balance the spoon across the top of the glass, place the sugar cubes atop the spoon and very slowly drizzle the absinthe over the sugar cubes, saturating them. Then a small amount of water would be trickled over the sugar cubes and allowed to dissolve them. The final step after the last bits of green sugar had slipped through the spoon is to stir the mixture until it becomes opaque. At that moment it’s time to ask La Fée Verte to be kind with you and grant you a beautiful vision. 

The first impression that might leap to mind while tasting modern commercial absinthe might be “Dear god that’s strong”, or it might be, “Wow this is just weird black licorice and a lot of booze.” 

Taste it again and the other subtle flavors begin to come forward. Taste it again and you’ll notice there are a lot of layers to this stuff, multiple ingredients that are familiar yet very hard to name. Anise is right at the top, screaming licorice!, but there are other quietly seductive flavors as well as the possibly of a few sinister properties. Absinthe as it was made in the 19th century contained wormwood as one of the principle ingredients, which is said to induce hallucinations and eventually madness.

Madness? Wormwood? You might think that sounds a little unsetting but it didn’t stop the 19th century French from guzzling the stuff. Until World War I Absinthe was the most popular alcoholic beverage in France. French veterans returning from the Crimean War came home with a taste for exotic herbed alcoholic beverages. Absinthe’s astonishingly high alcohol content and notorious ability to intoxicate added to its popularity among the poor and serious café drinkers alike.  Absinthe’s allure crossed all social boundaries in 19th century France. Intellectuals, artists and well-to-do middle class matrons all enjoyed and often overindulged in La Fée Verte’s warming and yet numbing embrace.

For professional purposes only I drank a little absinthe while editing Fairy In The Flesh. I called on La Fée Verte to bring me a beautiful vision as I asked the question, “What if your soul mate was born a century before you?” Fairy In The Flesh explores that question big time. 

In this excerpt at the end of a long, luckless day of wandering through Avignon France searching for André Bosco’s art studio, Maya stubbles into a Bohemian bistro run by a strange lady who claims to be a “time-twisting” enchantress.

* * * * *

…Maya’s gaze wandered toward the far wall and fixated on a framed pencil sketch of a handsome man with a proud, compelling face. The sketch was framed beneath glass and the paper had yellowed at the corners and crumbled with age. She studied the man’s face and guessed he was in his mid-thirties. He had a thick head of wavy dark hair and a rugged face with square, noble features, chevron brows and luminous eyes that glanced sideways from the portrait and seemed to follow the viewer around the room.
Maya found herself unable to look away. The man had a magnetic quality she seldom saw in contemporary faces. It was a look that could only belong to someone who possessed the self-confidence and perhaps a touch of arrogance not to care what the world thought. The generous arch of the man’s lips was so sensuous her thoughts wandered toward what it must have felt like to be kissed by him.
“You like Bosco, don’t you?” Miss Ruby leaned close. “He has a interesting face, doesn’t he? He can appear both compassionate and feral in turn. I’ve heard many differing opinions about the portrait over the years.”
Maya started. “Is that a portrait of André Bosco, the Fauvist painter?” she gasped. “I’m a great admirer of Bosco! I had no idea a portrait existed.” Her heart fluttered. “Did he really look like that?”
“You know of Bosco?” Miss Ruby looked elated. “So few do. History has all but overlooked him, which is a shame because those familiar with his small body of work have hailed him as one of the most innovative painters of his time. Some say Bosco inspired his more famous peers and set the example for the Fauvist moment by showing the world how to paint like a wild beast. Of course, a few of his nastiest critics called him a ‘paint waster’, but it’s clear Bosco had vision.”
Miss Ruby waved her hands through the air in an expansive gesture. “A few art historians have credited Bosco with being the original wild beast, in part because of his physical intensity and unruly head of hair, but also because he had a habit of tossing his paintbrushes aside and smearing the brightest colors across the canvas with his fingertips, with passion. It was said by those who watched him work that he ravished his canvases like a ferocious lover.” She giggled.
“He sounds exciting.” Maya drew a sharp breath. “Years ago, I saw an original Bosco in a traveling museum show of modernist work. Bosco’s painting was the most expressive piece of art in the entire show. I kept wandering back to look at it again and again. The painting was of a white stallion but the colors were vivid—every hue of the rainbow was hidden in the lines and shadows. Before I left the museum I bought a postcard of the painting and carried it around in a battered sketchbook for years. Bosco was my greatest inspiration. I heard a rumor he had a studio somewhere in Avignon?”
“He did.” Miss Ruby pointed upward. “His studio is a corner room on the third floor. The landlord of the building has preserved it.”
“Bosco’s studio is here?” Maya tensed. “Can I see it?”
“No.” Miss Ruby shook her head. “I don’t have permission to open the room, but the landlord will return on Sunday. You can ask him then.”
“I won’t be here on Sunday.” A note of desolation crept into her voice. “This is my last full day in France. I have to start making my way back to Paris tomorrow for my flight home. I’ll miss my only chance to see Bosco’s studio.” Maya leaned across the bar, feeling absolutely desperate to get a look at Bosco actual living space. “Please reconsider—I promise not to touch a thing.”
“I’m sorry.” Miss Ruby nodded toward the top of the bar, where an ornate brass skeleton key dangled from a green satin ribbon. “The landlord is the only one allowed to use that key to open the studio.”
“Damn.” Maya swallowed the last of her iced coffee and set the empty glass on the counter. She now felt torn about getting up and leaving when something as interesting as André Bosco’s studio was so near. “What’s inside the studio?”
“Everything.” Miss Ruby sounded glib. “The room is exactly as Bosco left it in 1903. He abandoned his paints, brushes, unfinished canvases, clothing—even a small amount of money. It’s a real mystery—no one knows what happened to him.”
A chill shivered up Maya’s spine. “No one knows?”
“There are romantic tales that claim Bosco fell in love with a model. She left him and he simply walked away one day never to be heard from again. What happened after that is an unknown. No doubt that is the reason he hasn’t enjoyed the same success as of some of his peers. Bosco abandoned his art, or perhaps changed his name and drifted. Even his legal name is in dispute, but no one really knows who he was or what became of him.
“The only thing that’s certain is Bosco disappeared from this hotel on the eve of having his work shown at an influential art salon. Wealth and success were headed his way and he chose to chase after a woman instead. Beyond that, history never heard from him again. Even the paintings destined for the salon showing in Paris disappeared and no surviving Bosco paintings have been authenticated after 1903, so you see, his career as an early Fauvist was fleeting but intense.”
Maya’s gaze fixated on the portrait. “It’s sad. He showed such promise.” She studied André Bosco’s commanding face. The depth of his eyes in contrast to his dark brows fascinated her. As she carefully examined the sweeping graphite lines of the sketch an odd thing happened—Bosco’s gaze seemed to sharpen and for the briefest moment she felt as if a living man confronted her.
“That portrait is uncanny.” Maya swayed from side to side, changing her angle of view. “When I move, Bosco’s gaze shifts too.”
“He’s watching you as intensely as you’re watching him.” Miss Ruby chuckled. “I think he likes you.” She turned and opened a locked cabinet built into the wall, opened the cabinet and removed an emerald green, liter-tall apothecary bottle stopped with a wax-dipped cork.
The sides of the bottle were smeared with colorful paint-stained handprints. A yellowed label that had begun to separate from the glass featured a voluptuous winged fairy cloaked in a wisp of green silk. The dreamy-eyed fairy basked beneath ornate golden lettering identifying her as La Fée Verte, the fabled and sometimes fickle green fairy who lurked within absinthe’s golden-green depths, waiting to inspire or destroy those who partook of her.
Miss Ruby proudly presented the bottle to Maya. “This bottle of absinthe belonged to Bosco.” She pointed to the flecks of dried paint on the label and bottle. “This was the paint palette Bosco was using when he disappeared. Look at the vibrancy of the lime greens, sorbet orange and warm pinks. The colors are gorgeous. This is just one of the many personal items he left behind. Being a high-level enchantress from New Orleans, the landlord entrusted me to take possession of the absinthe. I put my own protective mojo on it.”
Maya reached out to touch Bosco’s broad handprint on the bottle with reverence. His palm print dwarfed hers and she immediately saw that he must have been a man of large build. The intimate act of tracing her fingertips against the same spot where Bosco’s had once rested made her hand tingle. Touching Bosco’s handprint seemed to forge a galvanizing link to a past she would have loved to be part of.
Bosco had lived at a time when the world had just begun to awaken to its true potential. Queen Victoria had recently died, marking an official end to the Victorian era. Albert Einstein’s first important papers on thermodynamics had just been published and few outside his rarefied circle of peers knew his name. The Wright brothers were still perfecting their first fragile aircraft. The Eiffel Tower was a newly completed wonder and Europe and the rest of the world had yet to go to war.
Over a century ago, at the moment Bosco had picked up the bottle with paint- stained fingers and left his handprint on the glass, most people had seen a gleaming future on the rise but few had glimpsed its looming shadow.
“You’re touching that bottle as if you were stroking a lover’s thigh,” Miss Ruby said softly. “I can see by your faraway expression that you’re a bit enamored with Bosco. I understand. I’ve been smitten with the past too. It can be so enthralling.”
“I wouldn’t say I was smitten.”
“Is seduced a better word?” Miss Ruby reached behind the bar and retrieved a fluted parfait glass that stood on a delicate pedestal, a spade-shaped filigree spoon and a tiny silver dish filled with sugar cubes. “I can’t allow you to enter Bosco’s studio, but I can offer you a small taste of his absinthe.” Her hand poised above the cork, she said, “Would you like to try it?”
Maya stared at the tempting but slightly forbidding bottle. “Isn’t absinthe dangerous?” She squirmed on the barstool. “I‘ve heard it can cause madness.”
Miss Ruby’s posture stiffened. “I’m not going to let you consume that much. I’m only offering a taste so you can say you shared a drink with André Bosco. But if you’re not interested...” She started to put the bottle back into the cabinet.
“Wait!” Maya lurched forward. “I’d be honored to sample Bosco’s absinthe.” Her head spun from this crazy but thrilling offer.
“There’s a ritual that goes along with this.” Miss Ruby pointed toward the green fairy on the label. “If you want La Fée Verte to bring you a beautiful vision, you must offer her a gift.”
“What kind of a gift?”
Miss Ruby reached over the counter and, with a bold gesture, removed one of Maya’s tiny, gold hoop earrings from her lobe. Before Maya could protest the earring was plopped into the bottom of the fluted glass.
“Why did you do that?” Maya gasped in surprise.
“You can have it back later. La Fée Verte will bring you a lovelier vision if you offer her a personal item with your essence on it.” Miss Ruby lifted a pitcher of water and poured it into the glass until it was half full. She then balanced a lacy silver spoon across the top. “Pick up two sugar cubes,” she commanded. “Kiss each, make a wish and set them on the spoon.”
Maya picked up the sugar cubes and kissed both. The kisses left a sweet grainy texture embedded in her lipstick. She licked her lips and set the stained sugar cubes on the spoon. When set side-by-side the lipstick marks on the two sugar cubes formed a perfect pink heart. She almost pointed out the coincidence to Miss Ruby but decided to keep the thought to herself.
Miss Ruby uncorked the bottle of absinthe and poured a drizzle of golden-green liquid over the sugar cubes. A piquant and slightly bitter herbal scent filled the air. The cubes absorbed the soft-green color as they dissolved and washed through the tiny slots in the spoon. As the absinthe mixed with the cool water it formed delicate whorls that sank in the glass like exhausted dancers gracefully melting to the floor. A moment later the liquid turned a cloudy, opalescent shade of pale-jade.
Miss Ruby glanced at Maya. “Did you make a wish?”
Maya nodded. She’d wished she could meet a man as exciting as André Bosco but didn’t believe for a moment that it could actually happen.
“La Fée Verte can transport you for a brief time to another reality, but remember you belong in the present and no matter the temptation to remain in her realm, you will have to return. Your fate lies in the present.” Miss Ruby dipped the spoon into the glass and stirred. The golden earring twirled at the bottom of the glass, making soft tinkling sounds before settling. She withdrew the spoon and pushed the fluted glass toward Maya. “Your magic potion is ready. Enjoy.”
(Maya drinks the absinthe and gets left alone in the building. Things get strange fast. La Fée Verte appears and tempts her to steal the key…)



Katalina Leon

I’m an artist, an author, mother and wife. I write for Ellora’s Cave, Loose Id Publishing and a couple new publishers to be announced soon. I try to bring a touch of the mystical and a big sense of adventure to everything I write because I believe there’s a bold, kick-ass heroine inside all of us who wants to take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero.




Pinterest      Facebook:     Twitter: @Katalina_Leon



Sexy as Hell by Harlem Dae. Bargain BDSM Novels!





Sexy as Hell is an erotic trilogy that will submerge you into the black heart of a world of bondage and discipline, Dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.

Dare to take this twisting journey with Victor and you’ll learn the ropes with him, experience every carnal sensation and fall into a dark and dangerous love that grips like a fist and binds like a collar.

Get to know Zara, his sultry teacher, and you’ll gasp when she doles out her sinful instructions but then delight in the stunning results she not only demands but achieves. It seems Heaven and Hell are not so far apart when she holds the reins.

Victor has his layers peeled back, but when he does the same to try to get to his Vixen’s core, a revelation appears. Because Zara is a woman whose vast sexual experience is both her strength and her weakness; she can inflict pain and pleasure, make lusty demands and instruct, but she needs so much more, she needs…

Yes, the time has come to for her to admit to her needs and confess to the repairing her soul hungers for. A sea of memories, a lifetime of control requires an acknowledgement that will cut through her barriers, and there’s only one man up for the job—her virgin, her student, her newly trained monster, Victor Partridge.

Please note, in order to enjoy Victor and Zara’s adventures, the trilogy must be read in order.



About the Authors

Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae have been writing together for several years on top of their individual author projects. Their joint name is now Harlem Dae. They enjoy being represented by traditional houses including HarperCollins and Total-E- Bound as well self-publishing their sexy stories on Amazon. Both live in the UK and gain great satisfaction from bouncing characters and their raunchy antics back and forth, growing, nurturing and stoking plot lines until they steam off the page and push boundaries. They consider themselves to be solitary, whacky, spontaneous and desirous for many things including perfection and are frequently caught sending messages back and forth referring to each other as Rodney and Delboy.



Reviews
Here is what Amazon readers are saying...
Elizabeth - BETTER THAN 50 SHADES - I absolutely loved this book, it was by far better than the 50 shades of grey. I've already downloaded the 2nd and 3rd and can't wait to start reading them, well done to harlem dae this is your best book.
Clare - EXCELLENT READ - I thoroughly enjoyed all three of these books. I wasn't expecting to enjoy them quite as much as I did! I think you need an open mind to really enjoy the story. I cannot express just how much their story touched me. I've read many erotic novels an bdsm books but these ones are by far my favourites and I have recommended them to everyone I know :)
Meme - SEXY AS HELL - Wow! Very Erotic reading... Nice twists and turns through the book. Leaves you ready to read the second book. Not for the weak of heart!!! (pun intended)
Nyrican - MADE ME THINK - A well paced, lyrical writing that ensnared and enthralled! The sex was steaming, piping hot but it didn't come first for me. I was looking to be titillated yes, but instead was captured by the story of Zara and Victor more. When I got to the last page I cried "NOOOOO!" " it can't end like this!". This writing duo both got me vested in the characters and made me think. They made me curious, and made me question. What they made me question is for me, just as it will be for other readers, it will be personal to them. I cannot wait to find out where Victor and Zara end up. I also want to read more from these authors! Enjoy this trek thru the psyche of not one but two main characters in this trilogy!
Judith - OH MY GOD!!! LOVED THESE BOOKS SO MUCH!  - The best erotic trilogy I have ever read! FSOG and Crossfire series have nothing on these books. If you like your books a bit edgier then you should read these. I could not put them down! Lots and lots of hot sex but also a love story. I loved the style of writing, seen from both characters emotions. All I can say is read and enjoy!!!
Lucy - YOU WON'T FORGET IT IN A HURRY! If you're looking for a bit of light slap-and-tickle, this isn't it. The heat level of this book is a six out of five and is definitely not for the fainthearted. There's anal play, blood play, slapping, and much, much more. There are twists and turns, things I wasn't expecting, and an ending that leads perfectly into book two, making you eager to find out what happens next. So if you're looking for some superbly well-written and very, very dark, hardcore BDSM erotica, you should check out The Virgin. You won't forget it in a hurry.
Sonya - BOOK 1. This book is not for everyone. I too am a virgin when it comes to the stuff that is done. Wow! I feel bad for Victor, he has had a hard life in general, but became a successful man in the process. Fell in love only for to say she got a job out of the country to find she never left and why she stayed. That hurt me, but he too seemed to find someone, just not what he expected to find. Zara is someone he wants and knows she will never commit to just him, so they break each others hearts without even knowing it, this after he tragically passes out with his heart condition.
Pinkmipaw - A VERY SEXY BOOK. First you must be open minded about BDSM, then you must be able to read it in a solitary place because you are going to get hot and bothered. At first I didn't think I would like it, then I could not put it down. The tension holds for the entire book. 50 Shades is bogus next to this gem. You are going to be buying all the books in the series and looking for more from Lily Harlem and Miss Dea. I think you will like what you read. Just try not to read it on the bus.
Avid Reader - GRIPPING. I found myself being pulled in by Zara and her zeal for the lifestyle she enjoyed. I found myself relating to and sympathizing with Victor. I wanted to see him turn the tables and teach Zara something about herself in the same way she was trying to teach him. And he did. At that point I was cheering them both on. The ending didn't really turn out like I thought it would, but maybe that's because there's more to the story. It is a trilogy after all. Over all, I'm left with a yearning to find out how these to characters go on, which means I'll be reading the other two books.
Snow White - HAD TO BUY BOOK TWO. I enjoyed this book. Looking forward to reading book two. Loved how the first three words of the book set the standard for the rest of the story.
MaKafferty's Cat - AWESOME. Very good book, well written, and had an interesting storyline. Made me want to read the rest of the series to see what happens to and between the main characters, I got quite fond of them both during the course of the book.



About the Sexy as Hell Novels

London – one meeting, one month of lessons and a landslide of depraved new desires.

My journey to Hell started with a decaff coffee. Nothing more than a grey mug full of dull-brown liquid devoid of its most useful ingredient.

One sip, one smile, one touch of her hand and it was soon clear my life wasn’t destined to stay dull. Oh, no, suddenly I had a month of bedroom education planned by a sultry vixen who intended to broaden my horizons beyond my usual peach-pink palette. 

She wanted to take me to deep purples and navy blues and the pitch blackness that was pure sin. And on the other side of that blackness was a place that might look like Hell, with debauchery and wantonness, people playing devil’s advocate, luring innocents into the hotter, steamier corners of the world.

Her world.

Oh, yes, she promised each night to take me there and paint me an orange-and-red picture that would come alive, flickering like flames, enticing me, holding me spellbound and eager to learn more. To touch, explore, drown in coming.

And drown I would. I was no match for her tricks and taunts. My only chance of survival was to show her that I was no vanilla virgin. I had a rainbow of mastery up my sleeve, too, and if she just opened her eyes, she might be dazzled enough to stay—stay and take ‘my’ lessons. If she didn’t kill me first, that was, with pleasure.




Tuscany – New lovers, new lessons and an eruption of uncontrollable lust.

The real world was working for me, its pastel shades and straight-and-narrow route a familiar path to tread. It suited me, this normality; it was good for me too. Or so I thought, because the new light in my life, Catherine, was not quite fulfilling my needs. Her lack of colour, the weak whispers of her kisses were not touching my soul the way I’d become accustomed to. I needed more.

More of everything in my darkly addictive rainbow; the wicked wantonness of sin, the depraved pleasure of seedy seduction and the prism of delight I took in being struck…and of doing the striking. I missed the fireworks, the brilliant displays of Technicolor ecstasy that strung me out and bared me to my bones. I wanted to go there again, and take Catherine, too, see if I could have that pyrotechnic display with her. Did she have a riot of vibrant shades beneath her skin or was she magnolia to the core?

My teacher, Zara, told me I could discover her palette. That all I needed to do was show Catherine my world, my new world, the one I’d never inhabited alone. Zara couldn’t come with me this time, she had a new student now. I was on my own, it was down to me. Or was it?

It seemed my teacher had other ideas after all, and when she sashayed back into my life with her rules and murmurs of encouragement, I had no choice but to listen to her, take her advice, follow her lead, even though I knew nothing ever ended well with her. But resistance was futile, my protests fell on deaf ears. But that suited my plans, didn’t it?




The Vixen – Book #3

Venice – Two people, a shed load of baggage and a way forward that takes extreme to new limits.

In an explosion of clarity, the mist cleared and I understood what my lascivious teacher, Zara, really was beneath the surface. I couldn’t see her beautiful core. Like a dank fog warning off poor unfortunates who wandered her way, she wouldn’t let the darkness lift, refused to light the way. But she gave me a key. It was small, stiff, and I was afraid of what I’d find if I turned it. But I did. I couldn’t resist. She did that to me.

In a tumble of truths, I understood her bleak voids and why she filled them with sharp slicing reds and hostile bruising purples. What had happened, what they’d done had bled her of colour and created a woman who needed so much more and always would—for all of time. But I could give her back that vibrancy, I was sure I could; my colours complimented hers and I had plenty of them. My needs could switch to take her to those grey places she needed to visit again in order to obliterate the memories that caused her pain. In the space they’d occupied, I’d create a pile of shimmering, perfectly cut-diamond memories, a rainbow cloud of sugar mist to replace that dankness. I could do it; I would help her become more beautiful than anything I’d seen before.

And within that new, delicate ‘thing’ was us. Victor and Zara. Unconventional, extreme, romantic, we spanned every shimmering stroke of the rainbow and all the coal-black shadows on the way down to Hell. But together we could fight demons. I would be her knight in shining armour even if it pushed me to the very limits of what I ever believed I could do to a woman. And what thrilled me, was if I bared my soul, found the courage to be a monster as well as an angel, I had a very real chance of making her mine—or did I? Because the only thing predictable about Zara, was that she was completely unpredictable.



Sexy as Hell Magazine



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Excerpt from The Virgin

I sighed then sipped my coffee, wondering what on earth was the matter with me. Perhaps this game with Victor was dragging me down. If that was the case, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I stared into space, working out what to show him next. There were the Swedes—mustn’t forget those—but maybe they’d be better off left for the finale. God, that would give him a last visual to remember his time with me by. I could only hope he learned from what I was teaching him and didn’t file it in the back of his mind. What a waste if he didn’t use it with future women, either as a sub or having a go at domination himself. When he’d got going last night he’d given off an unstoppable energy. It was muted assertiveness yes, but I was pretty sure it was there.
Bile rose into my throat.
Was I coming down with something? That would be all I’d need, being sick smack bang in the middle of a bet. I breathed deeply, waiting for a slash of nausea to strike, but nothing came. Maybe the milk in the coffee wasn’t as fresh as it could be. I shrugged, once again studying the men in the coffee shop. One of them, nice-looking and hair much like Victor’s, greying a bit at the temples but not quite as long at the back as his, was typing steadfastly on his laptop. I wondered what he did for a living that meant he spent his coffee break working. Or perhaps he wasn’t working at all. He might well be firing off saucy emails to a woman who read them while frigging her clit. Would Victor be up for something like that?
I wasn’t about to wait to find out. I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. Having stored his email address in my mind, I tapped the icon for my mail app and typed it in, taking a moment to think on what to put. In the subject line I typed CAN YOU WALK PROPERLY TODAY? then proceeded with the main entry.

Dear Mr Doesn’t-Know-It-All-But-Knows-A-Bit-More-Than-Before,
I hope this email finds you in good spirits. How is your arse? Sore? I imagine it is. Mine isn’t, just in case you were wondering. I have a blissful kind of ache going on down there, and every time I move I think of you with your cock inside me. I have to admit, I’m wondering how that cock would feel in my cunt again, but we have plenty of time for me to find out, don’t we?
Now, about tonight. I doubt your back hole is up for any more invasions just yet, so I thought us watching a performance might be the best way to go. There’s an act you haven’t seen yet—The Harlequin; you’ll see why when you get there—and it will show you a thing or two.
8 o’clock sharp at Eden Street. If you don’t turn up this time…well, it’d be pointless if you didn’t. You know damn well I’ll only come and find you and do what I have in mind anyway. And you’ll enjoy it, I promise.
By the way, I’m enjoying a lovely coffee. Isn’t it about time you took a break?
Mistress Z

I smiled as I hit SEND, imagining his mail alarm tinkling, him opening his email browser thinking it was a client or one of his staff, only to find little old me had barged into his inbox. I wanted to barge into his inbox for real, but like I’d said to him, I didn’t think his arse could take another invasion so soon.
I sipped and gazed around while waiting for his response. If he didn’t send one immediately, then that was all right. He might be busy drawing or in a meeting or something. I hoped he wasn’t—hoped he was at his desk, bored and waiting for a decent distraction. Did he ever get bored at work, what with all those important projects to be getting on with?
My phone gave a solitary blip, and I looked down to see a number one in the corner of my mail icon. Excited, and wanting to laugh so loud it made people stare, I opened my mail.

Dear Mistress Z,
You are so naughty, emailing me like this. What did I tell you last night? I’m a busy man—too busy to be having filthy email conversations with you. Too busy to take a bloody break.
Yes, I’ll be at Eden Street at 8, not because you ordered me there but because I want to see The Harlequin. I enjoy a good show—perhaps you’d like me to take you to one of my kind some day? And yes, my arse is sore, thank you very much.
Mr Won’t-Take-Any-More-Orders-For-The-Rest-Of-The-Day

Ha! So he wasn’t so busy that he didn’t have time to respond. And as for not taking any more orders…he’d be taking them tonight.

Dear Mr I’m-Too-Busy-For-My-Mistress-Who-Likes-To-Put-Things-Up-My-Arse,
Thank you so much for your prompt response, despite being a very busy man. I appreciate you finding the time to squeeze me into your hectic schedule. I should be flattered. However, there’s always time for a bit of slap and tickle, and I aim to show you that all work and no play might make Victor a very dull man. And it had made you dull, hadn’t it? Admit it. When was the last time you had fun before you met me? Lighten up a little.
If you have a client sitting opposite your desk—and I can’t imagine you being so rude as to write filth to me if you did; again, not enough balls—or you have someone in your office, or perhaps you’re in someone else’s office and answering mail on your phone, just imagine what they’d think if they knew what we were talking about. Don’t you think it makes for an interesting deviance from your usual boring day? What a secret to have, sending raunchy messages to a woman when no one else knows.
What a secret to have when a woman emails you saying she’d like nothing more than to pay you a visit, yank down your trousers, and stuff your very hard cock into her mouth.
And you are hard, aren’t you?
Mistress Z

I sent the message and smiled. I was skating on thin ice here, risking annoying him or getting him so exasperated that the next response from him might not be so kind. Still, it was passing the time, and I could imagine him now, reading my message with a too-hard cock and no way to relieve it unless he visited the bathroom and took himself in hand. If he was in a meeting, all the better. A stiffy when sitting at a conference table could only make him want to see me tonight all the more.
My alert pinged.

Dear Mistress-Z-Who-Is-So-Infuriating-She-Makes-Me-Want-To-Scream,
I’m alone in my office, trying to work, and no, that doesn’t mean you can send me more of your dirty little messages. I really do need to get along here, and it’s all very well saying I should have secrets and should enjoy all this email sex malarkey—and I am in a way, I just wish you hadn’t chosen today to do it—but I have deadlines.
I don’t want to brush you off, believe me I don’t, but in answer to your question, yes, I’m too damn hard and it’s going to take a while for me to stop thinking about your pert little body and concentrate on work.
Now stop it. I mean it, just stop.
Mr Wants-To-Fuck-Around-With-You-But-Can’t

A grin a mile wide spread across my face. That was all I’d been after, him admitting he wanted me, giving me some assurance that he’d be at Eden Street tonight. Oh, I knew he’d said he’d be there, but after his no-show before, I’d had to make sure. And now I knew he wanted to fuck me, was sitting at his desk trying to deflate his cock, I was on cloud nine.
As I was just about to hug myself in victory, the man who looked a bit like Victor came up to my table. I stared at him, wondering what he could want, and slid my phone back into my bag.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“If you like,” I said, giving him my best I-can-hook-you-in-a-heartbeat smile. It felt wrong on my face, stretching it painfully, and I didn’t understand why. “So,” I said, following my usual patter, “what brings a hunk like you here?”
He grinned, blue eyes flashing, and placed his laptop on the table. “Having the chance to pick up a woman like you.”
Oh, someone else who thought he should be the one to run the show. I refrained from rolling my eyes and gave him another smile instead. Inwardly I sighed at having to go through this again, when all I wanted was to go home and think about tonight. I didn’t like other men encroaching on my time when I was teaching someone else.
So why were you here the other day then? The day Victor dropped in and caught you looking at other men?
I frowned. All right, so I was a hypocrite. I’d have to be honest with myself—this man wasn’t floating my boat, no matter how similar to Victor he was. No matter how attractive he was.
“I’m not here to be picked up,” I said. “I’m…well, I’m seeing someone.”
I stood and grabbed my bag, slinging the strap over my shoulder and heading to the door without looking back. I couldn’t believe I’d said that to him, had turned down the chance at a one-night stand come the end of the month. But it was all I’d been able to think of to get rid of him, to make my exit appear acceptable.
There was no other reason for saying what I had at all.




The future…

Look out for secondary characters in the trilogy, they all have their own sexy as hell stories to tell and they’re coming soon! More details about The Star, The Harlequin and The Mistress on the Harlem Dae website.