I read a book the other day and there are some things in it that I can't get out of my mind, and not for a good reason either. Though the writing was good, and the plot suspenseful and interesting enough to keep me reading, I made a decision not to read the rest of the books in the series.
If there's one thing I know about writing any kind of romance, you don't kill off the hero. That's a big no no. In this book the heroine was killed off. What made it confusing was that I read the first book in the series, and the woman killed off was actually a secondary character. But in book two the story is a romance about her and a biker. Well, knowing that she's killed off, who wants to read that story? I have absolutely no interest.
Then there was a rape scene. The heroine is kidnapped and sodomized, raped and then sliced up. The hero saves her but of course she's traumatized. During the weeks after while she's healing he gets a case of blue balls, so she gives him the go ahead to screw one of his ex-girlfriends because she knows he needs it. What? Within five minutes he's dragging a woman to his room and screwing her, while the heroine is in the next room knowing what he's doing. Later when she brings it up, his weak response is, "you told me to!"
No! No! No! If he really cared about the heroine he wouldn't buckle under the pressure of being horny. That was a big turn-off for me because I feel once the hero and heroine are committed to each other they remain loyal and faithful. Unless of course they're into group sex or something they do as a couple.
I know biker books are supposed to be raw and gritty and to give the author credit, she did warn at the beginning of the book that she holds nothing back.
Friday, 21 November 2014
Interview with a main character: Tom
Okay, Tom - I can smell the turps and linseed oil from here so I’m guessing I’ve taken you away from your current work in progress? What are you painting right now?
Tom: It’s fine, I was just putting the finishing touches to a huge portrait and it needs to dry before I carry on. It’s kind of different from my usual style; wilder and less ... tidy? Lots of crashing waves, The tourists loved my old stuff, views of the big Norfolk sky and calm seas and the pier and the lighthouse so it was risky trying this, but I don’t care. I was going mad never being able to let myself go.
But you mentioned that it was a portrait? That sounds more like a landscape to me?
Tom: Ah. Well it would be, but there’s a woman in it. A beautiful woman.
A friend of yours, is she?
Tom: Yes. Just a friend. Her name’s Molly. I met her on the beach.
I’m sensing a romance here, Tom?
Tom: I should be so lucky. Bloody hell, I sound like Kylie. I mean, if there was more to it than just friends, I’d ... I’d ... oh well, it’s never going to happen, is it. Look at me.
I’m not sure what you’re getting at, to be honest, Tom.
Tom: Come on, cut the crap. She’s not going to fancy a bloke in a wheelchair, is she? She’s gorgeous. What have I got to offer a woman like that?
Erm ... you’re pretty gorgeous yourself to be quite truthful. Strong, funny, talented. I could go on.
Tom: Yeah, right. Anyway, we’ll see. It might happen. Watch this space.
The next day, Tom took his courage in both hands, put on his favourite faded Levis, his old leather flying jacket and a red t-shirt, and got into his car. As he drove to Molly’s house, he rehearsed his lines over and over again. He had to strike just the right note or he’d frighten her off before he could get to know her properly.
He pulled in behind her car, which looked as if it had been abandoned rather than parked, and swung himself out of his own, intending to reach for his sticks. Before he’d had a chance to organise himself, Hattie came flying out of the front door.
‘Tom! I saw you from my window – I sleep at the front – no-one else likes it because it’s a bit noisy but I like to see what’s going on in the street, and I saw you. I’ve got my own room now. Have you come to see how we did in the sleepover?’
She paused to breathe and Tom started to manoeuvre himself out of the driving seat.
‘Do you want your chair?’ Hattie asked, going to the boot. ‘I can do it, I know how.’
At that moment, Molly emerged from the house, and Tom was struck dumb by her beauty. She was wearing one of her floating-type ensembles, layer upon layer of crimson, burgundy and russet material over skin tight leggings. Her hair was tied up on top of her head, and curls cascaded around her face. She opened her eyes wide when she recognised her visitor, but rallied quickly and came towards him smiling.
‘Tom, this is nice. I was going to come into the shop again to see your new paintings properly.’
‘Hi Molly, I was just passing and I thought I’d bring in the girls’ sponsor money.’ There was an ominous silence and Hattie became very interested in the toes of her boots.
‘I tell you what, we’ll talk about that inside,’ said Molly, glaring at her youngest daughter. Hattie sprang into action, wrenching the wheelchair out of the boot, opening it up deftly and bringing it to just the right place for Tom to slide into. He grinned at her.
‘You’ve done that before,’ he said, settling into the chair.
‘Yes, I’ve got a friend at school who’s d–’ she stopped suddenly, exchanging agonised glances with her mum. Tom laughed.
‘Who’s the D word,’ he finished. ‘You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, sweetheart, I’ve been in a wheelchair for a long time. I’m used to it.’
‘But why?’ Hattie ground to a halt again as Tom began to propel himself towards the house. The step was tiny, and he easily got through the wide doorway. Over his shoulder, he said to Hattie, ‘You can ask me anything you like, if you give me a cup of tea.’ Hattie shook her head, biting her lip.
Soon Tom was relaxing in one of Molly’s most comfortable chairs, with a brimming mug next to him and a slice of Hattie’s flapjack, made that day at school. He had never felt so at home in someone else’s house before. Usually it took him several visits to grow accustomed to a new place. There were practical issues, such as whether the loo was accessible, and if the floors were laminated – major slipping hazard – and whether the home owners tried to make too many allowances for his needs.
Suddenly bereaved, Molly White realises that she has never really known her feisty husband Jake when random boxes begin to appear through the post, each one containing a tantalising clue to the secrets of Jake and Molly’s past. Someone who knows them both well, for reasons of their own, has planned a trail of discovery. The clues seem to be designed to change Molly’s life completely, leading her around Britain and then onwards to rural France and deepest Bavaria.
Meanwhile, waiting in the wings is Tom, a charismatic artist who runs a gallery in the same town. Strong, independent and wheelchair-bound from the age of fifteen, he leads a solitary life and has no idea how devastatingly attractive he is to women. When Tom meets curvy, beautiful and funny Molly, he knows that she is his dream woman, but she seems way out of his orbit until the boxes start to weave their spell and the two of them are thrown right out of their comfort zones.
Little Boxes is a story of love in a variety of guises - mother-love, unrequited passion, infatuation and the shadow-love held in memories that refuse to go away.
Celia J Anderson spends most of her spare time writing in as many different genres as possible, including children’s fiction. In her other life, she’s Assistant Headteacher at a small Catholic primary school in the Midlands and loves teaching literature (now comfortingly called English again but still the best subject in the world.)
She tried a variety of random jobs before discovering that the careers advisor at secondary school was right, including running crèches, childminding, teaching children to ride bikes (having omitted to mention she couldn’t do it herself) and a stint in mental health care. All these were ideal preparation for the classroom and provided huge amounts of copy for the books that were to come.
Celia enjoys cooking and eating in equal measures, and thinks life without wine would be a sad thing indeed. She is married, with two grown up daughters who have defected to the seaside. One day she plans to scoop up husband and cats and join them there.
Giveaway:a Rafflecopter giveaway
Tuesday, 18 November 2014
From the pen of award-winning erotica author Lucy Felthouse comes a collection of short stories and flash fiction sure to hit the spot.
There’s something for everyone nestling between the pages of this sexy anthology. From spanking to voyeurism, bondage to pegging, solo loving to ménage, with a sprinkling of femdom, maledom and magic, fans of M/F erotic stories will soon discover why this book is described as multi-orgasmic.
Enjoy twenty one titillating tales, over 52,000 words of naughtiness packed into one steamy read.
Please note: Many of the stories in this book have been previously published in anthologies and online, but three of the tales are brand new and never-seen-before!
Buy links (FREE for Kindle Unlimited users!): http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/multi-orgasmic/
Monday, 17 November 2014
Title: Taboo II
Publisher: Ishtar Press
Page count: 89
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Taboo-II-Pagan-Erotica-Anthology-ebook/dp/B00PM98GP0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1416029726&sr=1-1&keywords=taboo+2+pagan
Taboo II Blurb:
Longing. Lust. Passion. Bliss.
On this altar to the Goddess Ishtar, we present to you four tales of unbridled desire and toe-curling release:
Under Cover of Darkness by Erzabet Bishop
When Giselle is sent into the mountains to fetch an author who has missed his latest book deadline, she finds herself in the thick of trouble. After her car dies, and she escapes a pack of feral dogs, her only refuge from the darkness is a gated castle shrouded in mystery.
Is the author she seeks beyond the cold stone walls? Or will she discover something else—too wicked for words?
To Mar a Page with Words by Jason L Morrow
Robert stared at the blank page, night after night. He wanted nothing more than to write, but the blank page taunted him and held him at bay. Finally, after a visit from a dark-haired woman in his sleep—his dream muse—the floodgates of his imagination opened and the words poured forth.
Now the woman of his dreams wants to be the only one in his life.
The Sultan by Ed “CC” Emerson
After stumbling upon an Atlantean scroll (once considered a hoax by experts) in his occult bookstore, women begin to show up on Jimmy’s doorstep. Six women, ready to fulfill both his and their wildest fantasies, become his harem, with him as The Sultan.
As their orgies heat up, they realize that the Atlantean scroll has activated.
Will being given the ultimate power be as good as the ultimate fantasy? Or will it tear them apart?
Blood Sugar Sex Magick by Tinnekke Bebout
Angela seeks the counsel of her friend and occasional lover, Marianne, regarding her interest in seeking a Dom. She learns one of the primary members of the poly family she is involved with would be perfect dominant for her.
Can she strike up the courage to ask him? And if she does, what will happen next?
Grab some wine or mead. Strip off your clothes and get comfortable.
Explore our offering with all your senses as we delve into the taboo.
An excerpt from Under Cover of Darkness by Erzabet Bishop:
Coarse black fur covered his newly reformed body. With massive shoulders and a towering frame, he stood over her, chest heaving. She had seen werewolves on TV and in the movies. Special effects of course, but they were hot. They had starred in her fantasies since she was old enough to figure out what to do with her fingers in the dark. Staring at Pendleton's fur-covered muscles and powerful thighs she felt her pussy dampen. Oh my God. Her eyes trailed down to the enormous cock that hung between his legs. Icy fear warred with desire as his body adjusted to its new state and he realized she was there. Holy fuck. This really was like Beauty and the Beast. Only better. Screw the talking teapot.
Thursday, 13 November 2014
Roller derby girls looking for kicks, a kinky crochet class and an erotic cruise adventure… Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection brings you five sinfully seductive short stories of lady loving by one of the erotica world’s most prolific authors. Featuring three stories previously published in Ladylit anthologies and two brand new ones, this collection is sure to seduce you.
Mermaids and Mistletoe
Mosaics and Mermaids
Please note that ‘Hooked’, ‘Mermaids and Mistletoe’ and ‘Derby Girls’ have previously appeared in Ladylit anthologies.
Word count: 16,000
"As with all LadyLit mini-anthologies, this book was amazing!!! Ms Bishop is a magician with a typewriter. She is able to draw her readers into her stories and not let go of them. From rough and tough to tender and lovely, her lesbian romps are sizzling, spicy and seductive... Each story from Ms. Bishop is a wonderful gift to my senses and emotions!!"
Excerpt from "Mermaids and Mosaics."
Lydia watched Abby as she hustled out of the solarium. It was nice having her here. Almost without thinking, she walked toward the ladder, intent on seeing what it was Abby had created. Guilt warred with need and need won out. Standing under the skylight, Lydia looked up. Her eyes scanned over the piece and she sucked in a sharp intake of air. She was staring at her own face. The mermaid was her. Tears stung her eyes.
"Why would you make a mosaic of me?" She whispered. A single tear slid down her face.
She didn't hear Abby come back into the room until it was too late. She stood in the doorway, a fresh shirt and sweats hugging her compact body, making her as irresistible now as she had been when they first met. Their eyes met and Lydia gasped. She was caught.
Excerpt from "Pumpernickel"
"I'm sorry, Mistress. Please forgive this girl for acting out in her frustration." Libby got down from the chair and sank down in front of Miriam. The wooden floor was cool against the bare skin of her legs and her knees protested as they hit the edge of the area rug.
Miriam stared down at Libby, an icy frown freezing her face into an immovable mask. "Crawl to the corner." She fished in her pocket and pulled out a penny. "Against the wall with your nose. If that penny falls, then your punishment goes up. Five minutes."
Libby knelt in the corner. Her nose held up the penny and her mind raced. What would she do to her? Forgetting about the rejection, she focused on her Mistress and how to account for her impertinence. Libby was concentrating so hard on mashing her nose against the wall, she almost didn't hear Miriam return.
"Alright. Time's up. Come over here and pull down your shorts. I have a bottom to tan."
Desire coursed through Libby's center as she slid her panties and shorts off and onto the floor.
Writing short erotic romance:
Writing short erotic romance is a fun way to keep writing and have a plethora of stories to excite the reader. In Sweet Seductions I explore life on a cruise ship, derby girl antics on and off the playing field, a crochet class I would want to attend and an author who gets a taste of what discipline and hard work can mean when her Mistress takes on her attitude.
When I first began my writing career I started with a novel and found it to be a bit too much. Then I read an interesting thought by Ray Bradbury. If you write one short story a week, sooner or later you won't be terrible. I've taken his words to heart and am almost always pounding away at the keyboard composing this or that, slowing gaining in word count to write a much larger work, all the while enjoying the path less taken so to speak.
All writers have different paths to find their way. Short erotic romance was mine and I couldn't be happier. Story after story, I meet more fans, create new worlds to explore and have a marvelous time finding out just what people are dying to read about.
What sorts of erotic romance do you like? What do you want to see more of?
About the author:
Erzabet Bishop has been crafting stories since she could pound keys on her parents’ old typewriter. She has only just learned that it is a whole lot more fun writing naughty books. She is a contributing author to the Silk Words website with her Fetish Fair, Gingerbread Dreams, Holiday Cruise and Temptation Resorts interactive romances, Sci Spanks 2014 Anthology, Potnia, A Christmas To Remember, Taboo II, Forbidden Fruit, Club Rook: The Series, Sweat, Bossy, Cougars, Spank or Treat, When the Clock Strikes Thirteen, Wicked Things, Unwrap these Presents (upcoming), Unbound Box, Milk & Cookies & Handcuffs, Corset Magazine: Sex Around the World, Vaginas and Vulvas, Man vs. Machine: The Sex Toy Issue, Smut by the Sea Volume 2, Hell Whore Volume 2, Can’t Get Enough, Slave Girls, The Big Book of Submission, Hungry for More, Gratis II, Gratis III, Anything She Wants, Dirty Little Numbers, Kink-E magazine, Eternal Haunted Summer, Coming Together: Girl on Girl, Shifters, Coming Together: For the Holidays (upcoming) and Coming Together: Hungry for Love among others. She is the author of Lipstick (upcoming), Dinner Date, Tethered, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection (upcoming), Red Moon Rising (upcoming), Red Boots (upcoming), Charity Benshaw's Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming), Holidays in Hell (upcoming), Pomegranate (upcoming), Red Dress (upcoming), Sigil Fire, Written on Skin: A Sigil Fire Short, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation. Erzabet was a finalist for the GCLS 2014 awards in two separate categories. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.
Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.
The Romance Reviews: http://www.theromancereviews.com/100004193823883
Ylva Author Page: http://www.ylva-publishing.com/ylva-verlag-e.kfr.--erzabet-bishop.html
About Me: http://about.me/erzabet.bishop/#
Facebook “like” page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor
Amazon author page: http:// amazon.com/author/erzabetbishop/
Lesfic Blog: http://lesficandlipstick.wordpress.com/
Review Blog: http://erzabetsenchantments.blogspot.com/
Author Database: http://authorsdb.com/authors-directory/2690-erzabet-bishop
Tuesday, 11 November 2014
Blurb - Keeping promises is important to Ryan, but keeping his promise to his younger brother David will be hard. David’s final wish is for Ryan to watch over his wife and daughter, but Ryan’s been in love with Shannon for years. This holiday season, Ryan will learn he can keep his promise and still have his heart’s desire.
Shannon felt bone tired and grubby by the time she flew into the Mount Snow Airport, two days before Thanksgiving. The small airport was busy, probably more so than usual, and the plane was jam packed without a spare seat anywhere. It seemed everyone on the face of the earth had the same brainy idea she had…trying to reach their holiday destinations in time. Shannon should have remembered the years before when she and David had left earlier to avoid the hassle.
Traveling with a toddler, one who’d clearly reached the terrible two stage was no picnic either. By the time Shannon stepped off the plane, she had a huge grape stain on her white blouse, which she knew wouldn’t come out in a hundred years. She couldn’t blame the stewardess, who had only been trying to help when Alivia had turned her nose up to everything Shannon had brought on board. Clearly, the stewardess didn’t have children if she thought handing a two year old an open cup of juice was the smartest thing to do. Alivia’s little chubby hands had reached for it before Shannon had a chance to blink, much less speak.
On top of the juice stain, Shannon had dried drool on her left shoulder where Alivia had fallen asleep, and now smelled sour from the milk and oatmeal she’d consumed for breakfast. Her red hair, which she’d pulled up in a haphazard bun, was hanging about her face and neck like she’d just finished ten hours of strenuous housework. Every time Alivia got anywhere near it she'd bury her little fingers into the bun, pulling more and more hair loose. Shannon sighed, smiling in spite of everything.
It’s not like she was trying to win a beauty pageant.
She thanked God Sheila had arrived on time to pick them up. The long drive to the farmhouse had been done with them catching up on what they’d been doing most of the year, while Sheila’s kids, Dawn and Kelly, had kept Alivia amused in the back seat. Every once in a while Shannon glanced back to make sure her daughter hadn’t worked her way out of the car seat. She hated being confined. Apparently, the attention of her cousins had kept her from getting bored.
Now, some four hours later, Shannon glanced down at Alivia, and released a deep sigh of tiredness after the long day. Her daughter had eaten, been bathed, powdered down, read a story and was fast asleep in the playpen next to her bed. Hopefully until the next morning. Shannon glanced at the clock, almost nine. Her time now, to eat, bathe, powder down and replace the story for a glass of wine and a little peace and quiet. Marsha left a dinner plate in the oven for her when she was ready for it.
On her way to the door, she caught a glance of herself in the huge mirror over the antique mahogany dresser. Lord, she looked a wreck! Her green eyes looked dull with exhaustion, her mascara smeared beneath them. Her full lips were void of lipstick, and she knew the blush in her cheeks was natural because Alivia’s hands had smoothed away her makeup long ago when they’d been playing. She was still wearing her stained and wrinkled traveling clothes, only now her white blouse was missing two buttons where Alivia had tugged on it.
She glanced at her daughter once more before opening the bedroom door to head for the kitchen downstairs, thankful Marsha had installed a baby monitor in the room. If Alivia woke, they’d be able to hear her. Of course, she’d probably let out a loud squeal when she realized she wasn’t sleeping in her own bed. Leaving the door open, Shannon tiptoed out until she was a safe distance away.
The first thing Shannon noticed as she descended the stairs was how quiet the house seemed, before she remembered Marsha had one of her wicked migraines and had turned in early hoping to fight it off. Sheila would be tied up with her little ones in their rooms, which Shannon knew were at the far back of the house. After the grandchildren started coming along Marsha had sectioned off parts of the huge house into suites so everyone would have the privacy they needed. Adding bathrooms where needed. Shannon was the only one who had a bedroom that shared a connecting bath in the main part of the house, down the hall from Marsha.
Just as she stepped off the bottom step, she heard a noise at the front door. She hesitated, unsure what to do. Who could be visiting at this hour? Just when she expected to hear a knock, she heard something else instead. A key was being inserted into the lock, and right before her startled eyes, she watched the knob turn and the door open. Her gaze landed on a pair of army boots and slowly traveled upward, taking in the muscular body in military fatigues. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Ohmygod!
Ryan had come home!
He appeared just as startled as she was. Halting in the threshold as their eyes meet, his rugged expression carved in granite. Only his eyes, those piercing blue orbs, showed any sign of life, if you could call it that. Shannon had a feeling that Ryan Hayes didn’t reveal any emotions that weren’t hardened by years of combat. For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to speak and half expected him to back out and leave.
“Do you mind if I come in?” His deep voice was just as Shannon remembered. “It’s damn cold out here.”
For the first time she realized she was blocking his way. Swallowing, she stepped back enough for him to enter and close the door behind him. He dropped a large army bag on the floor by his feet, and shook off the snow onto the floor mat. All the while keeping his eyes trained on Shannon, as though she were the enemy. She took a nervous step further into the foyer, directly into the soft glow of the lamp that had been left on in the living room.
Ryan looked just like he did the last time she saw him. Big and tall, cloaked in that attitude of quiet strength he seemed to possess. His black hair cut in military fashion and suited his strong, square boned face. Though sporting a tiny scar over his left eyebrow and another, bigger one halfway down his left cheek he was still a handsome man. He eluded danger in practically every move he made, every glance.
His eyes dropped, running over Shannon rapidly, making her painfully aware of her disheveled state. She refused to reach up and smooth her hair back, knowing that it would do no good. The tiniest quirk on his full, sensuous mouth revealed he found her condition amusing. Quickly, his lips thinned almost menacingly when his gaze narrowed on her breasts. It was then that Shannon reached up and pulled her ruined blouse together where the buttons had come off.
She finally found her voice. “Welcome home, Ryan.”
“Where is everyone?” His tone seemed hard, gruff, more commanding than inquiring. He slipped off his jacket and hung it on a peg on the back of the door, and then bent to slip off his boots.
“Mom went to bed with a headache. Sheila must be putting the kids to bed. The rest won’t get here until tomorrow night.” Shannon couldn’t help but notice the quick glance he shot her way when she called his mother mom. She watched quietly as he set his boots against the wall and stood, towering over her again.
“It’s just as well. I’m tired as hell and want to turn in early myself. But first, I want to find something to eat. I’m starved.” Closing the distance between them, Ryan halted when he reached Shannon. “Is that okay?”
Shannon felt a telltale heat rush up to her cheeks when she realized she was watching Ryan’s mouth form the words. What the heck was wrong with her? Jet lag, that’s what. She gave her head a little shake. She must be more tired than she thought. As his words became clear, it dawned on her that she was once again blocking his way. “Oh! I’m, ah sorry.” Instead of moving to let him pass, she turned and began to walk in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll be glad to fix you something to eat.”
“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.” He was right on her heels.
“That’s okay.” Shannon pushed the kitchen door open and flipped on the light switch on the wall next to it. “Sheila put a plate for me in the oven and if I know her, she left enough for two. I don’t mind sharing.” Not waiting for Ryan to acknowledge her, Shannon took the potholders from the counter by the stove, opened the oven door and retrieved the plate. “Just as I thought.” She turned and showed him the full plate of corn beef hash. But the expression on Ryan’s face almost made her drop it.
Sweat had broken out on his forehead and he’d turned pale, his lips were thin as a muscle twitched in his jaw that had hardened in an effort to hold back that he was in obvious pain.Intense pain. He was clutching the island counter in the middle of the kitchen as if it alone was holding him upright. “Ryan!” Shannon set the plate down and rushed to his side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He held a hand up in a silent warning for her to back off. She stopped immediately and waited for another sign from him, afraid he was having some kind of attack. After a few more seconds, he sucked in several deep breaths and released them slowly. It was clear by his expression that he hated showing her even that one small weakness. It was very clear that he didn’t intend talking about it. Shannon knew the moment the pain left his body when his expression relaxed.
“You said something about sharing your dinner?” He pulled out one of the barstools from around the island and sank down onto it.
Shannon hesitated for a moment, fighting the urge to question him. Something was terribly wrong, she just knew it, but she didn’t know Ryan well enough to feel she had the right to ask him anything personal. The look in his cold eyes warned her she’d be shot down before she managed to speak the first word. Forcing a smile she was far from feeling, she turned to get a second plate.
“I’ll thank you not to mention what just occurred to my family,” Ryan surprised her by saying while her back was turned to him.
“If that’s what you want,” Shannon responded, opening a cupboard door.
She glanced with surprise at where the plates were usually stacked. Glasses had replaced them. Marsha had obviously done some rearranging since the last time Shannon had been there. She opened up several other doors before finding the plates, stacked on the second shelf. Standing on tip toe she strained to reach them.
“Here, let me help you.”
“Oh!” Feeling Ryan brush up against her, Shannon spun around before she could think. Suddenly, it wasn’t her backside feeling his hardened muscles. Since he was in the process of reaching over her head for a plate, they were now flush against each other. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest, the lower halves of their bodies were shockingly aligned, and their thighs were touching. Mouths within inches of each other, their breath mingled. It was crazy but Shannon was sure she felt their hearts beating in rhythm. She began to tingleeverywhere and held her breath.
Their gazes met and held and Ryan became motionless, his arm still above her head reaching for the plate. It struck Shannon that she was seeing the dangerous side of him, the soldier sizing up the situation and preparing for action. Only in this case, what would that be? She refused to let her mind go there.
When his gaze fell to her mouth she began to tremble, but not from fear. A sliver of excitement shot through her. Then as quick as it happened it was over and he was pulling a plate out and stepping away.
“Thank you,” she whispered, not sure what just happened or what she was feeling. It was insane, finding herself momentarily attracted to Ryan. He was her husband’s brother for crying out loud! A feeling of overwhelming guilt engulfed Shannon and she wondered that it might be best if she skipped dinner and went straight to bed.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Shannon.” Ryan said out of the blue, breaking into her thoughts. She unwillingly met his eyes again, wondering what prompted him to say such a thing. Had he felt something too?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?” Finally able to move, she went to the island and picked up the plate with the corn beef hash on it. Without looking at Ryan, she scooped more than half onto the extra plate before setting it down before him. He surprised her by reaching out and grabbing her wrist before she could move away. Shannon reluctantly raised her gaze to his and that’s when she knew she had to get out of there. She wasn’t afraid of him, she was afraid of herself! “If you’ll excuse me, I better go check on Alivia.”
So many emotions were running through Shannon at that moment. Feelings she hadn’t felt in a while, and didn’t know how to handle. She was confused and frightened. Where had they come from?
Without waiting for his acknowledgement, she turned and fled the kitchen.
Sexy as Hell Box Set written by Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae - Harlem Dae - is on special offer for one week only. For just 99p/99c you get three full length BDSM erotic romance novels and three spin-off stories featuring secondary characters - now that's a bargain.!
Check out the awesome 5* reviews then grab your copy, only available on Amazon, and tell all of your friends! Oh, and to show you're appreciation why not give Harlem Dae a LIKE!
Monday, 10 November 2014
Dark Warrior, an addition to Totally Bound's What's His Passion line of steamy m/m romances is due out April 2015. I'm loving the hot of the press cover, created by the awesome talent that is Posh Gosh.
What's His Passion?
A contemporary collection of men and their passions.
We all have our passions—whether they’re simple pleasures like fine wine and good music, or more ambitious like climbing mountains or jumping out of airplanes. It might even be revelling in the edgier side of sex!
Dive in and discover the many passions of the amorous men explored in Totally Bound's new imprint—What’s His Passion?
Saturday, 8 November 2014
City Nights: One Night in Paris by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) Just $0.99/77p on Amazon During November!
For the month of November, this erotic romance novella will be on SALE. Warm up those winter nights with this smokin’ hot read!
Grab your copy here: http://mybook.to/cnparis
Here's what it's all about:
Jacob is nearly forty, and has recently come to the sudden realisation that he’s not doing much with his life. Sure, he’s got his own successful business, but what’s the point in earning lots of money and not doing anything or going anywhere to spend it?
He’s in serious danger of being all work and no play, so he starts to rectify this by organising a twenty four hour layover in Paris en route to a meeting in Dubai. Whilst there, he goes on a bus tour of the city, and there meets Annabelle, a fellow Brit who’s studying in Paris. There’s clearly an attraction between the two of them, so when the gorgeous Annabelle makes an indecent proposal to help Jacob fill his time in Paris, who is he to refuse?
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
Friday, 7 November 2014
Post by Lily Harlem
Vote now for your choice of cover on the new Wild Angels Anthology. My story Burning Rubber is one of the three sexy biker titles in this collection which is releasing on 12th December
Burning Rubber will be released as a single title on the 2nd January 2015
Thursday, 6 November 2014
Light hearted, sexy Sapphic smut is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Lucy Felthouse with assistance from Kev ‘Mitnik’ Blisse.
From coffee shops to exotic Indian adventures to cosy cabins in France, Sapphic Smut has it all. Fun with sugar, naughty spankings, seductions by strangers, seductions by friends, cougars and even a twist on a fairy tale abound in this exciting collection of lesbian stories from erotica’s finest authors.
This delicious girl-on-girl anthology contains stories from Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Louisa Bacio, Sallyanne Rogers, Vanessa de Sade, Tabitha Rayne and Elizabeth Coldwell.
Editor’s Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/lucyfelthousewriter
Alana really couldn’t believe how flat Holland was. She’d been told by many people, but somehow, she still wasn’t expecting a place that made Cambridgeshire look like the Peak District. Her view from the train as she travelled from Schiphol airport to Amsterdam’s Centraal Station was unimpeded. Not so much as a hillock was visible.
And now, here she was, standing outside the station with crowds milling around her. A mixture of tourists, businesspeople and natives. She herself was a combination of two of those groups—she was here on business, but she’d deliberately extended her trip so she could spend a couple of days exploring the city. She had a day either side of her meeting, the boring part a filling to a sightseeing sandwich. Though, despite the boring tag, the meeting definitely wasn’t a bad thing, it was an appointment to cross the ts and dot the is on a very lucrative deal—certainly the trip was worthwhile.
After watching the insanity for another minute or so, she began to head away from the station, wheeling her small case along with her. Already armed with a guidebook and a decent map, she knew where she was going. Her map-reading skills were excellent, and she made the short walk to her hotel in less than twenty minutes. Anywhere else, she’d have gotten a cab, but it appeared they were a rare commodity in this city.
She’d checked in, dumped her bags and freshened up within another ten minutes, and was back on the street.
An online acquaintance had sent her a bunch of information for her trip—about the best museums, interesting things to see that might not be in guidebooks, and details on transport. It appeared that Amsterdam was unlike London, Paris and Rome, in as much as it had trams as its preferred mode of transport, rather than underground trains. Only one Metro line ran through the city, north-to-south. Everywhere else was utterly dependent on trams, bikes and being on foot.
And fuck, there were a lot of bikes. They zipped here, there and everywhere, not always staying where they were supposed to be, it seemed. The slim Dutch people atop the bikes were oblivious, just concentrating on getting where they were going.
Alana searched for the nearest tram stop, and quickly discovered she needed to be on the other side of the road to head in the right direction.
Crossing the road was a chore in itself. A dice with death. She’d thought Rome’s motorists were insane, but at least they were fairly predictable. Here, she was faced with crossing a road that held a cycle path, a tram line and a lane for cars. Shifting down the pavement, she stood at the conveniently placed crossing. It still didn’t make things much easier, but at least she could mingle in with the crowd. Traffic was much more likely to stop if it was going to hit a crowd of people than a single pedestrian. Right?
By some miracle, she reached the opposite pavement unscathed—except for her nerves, which were shot—and approached the tram stop. As if by magic, a tram arrived, and it was the correct number. Things were looking up.
After a few minutes, she realised that public transport in Amsterdam was nowhere near as easy to navigate as in the other major cities she was familiar with. There, their Tube or Metro stations always had plenty of large, unmissable signs telling you where you were. Piccadilly Circus, Anvers, Piramide. Here, it seemed you were left to your own devices. There were announcements on board the tram, but they were in Dutch—a language which she knew very little of—incredibly muffled, and pretty much drowned out by the sound of the tram’s motion and its passengers.
Sunday, 2 November 2014
I'm offering up a free full length, contemporary romance to anyone interested. Below is the coupon information you'll need to claim your copy. Please let me know if you have any trouble.
Promotional price: $0.00
Coupon Code: DH44Y
Expires: November 30, 2014
Promotional price: $0.00
Coupon Code: DH44Y
Expires: November 30, 2014