It’s official - I’m a Brit Babe!!!

It’s official - I’m a Brit Babe!!!

You may have noticed the phrase Brit Babes floating about on Facebook and Twitter lately—and this is why...

Myself and seven of my British erotica and erotic romance writer friends have come together to form a group to give you, the wondrous reading public, a fantastic blog to visit to find information about ALL our stories in one place!

I think I can confidently guarantee that all erotica tastes are catered for. Whether you're brand new to erotica, already enjoy a good dose of sexy with your romance or a seasoned reader who’d like to try out a new author, we have something that will tickle your fancy and more!

So - here we are!!

Kay Jaybee, Kd Grace, Lexie Bay, Tabitha Rayne, Natalie Dae, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse and me!!

8 British based authors dedicated to bringing you the best sexy reads we possibly can!!

So, here’s a bit about me!

As Natalie Dae I write M/F romance in many genres, although lately I’ve been veering more towards BDSM. I live in a small village outside Oxford in the UK where it’s nice and quiet. I’m very happily married with five children and a grandson. I’m the kind of person who always has to have something to do, hence me having four pen names as well as a full-time job.

Natalie came about when I realised, after writing M/M for a number of years, I’d perhaps confuse readers if I published M/F as Sarah Masters. So Natalie was born, and I haven’t looked back since. I have several titles out with Total-E-Bound, Ellora’s Cave, and one with HarperCollins.

As well as writing by myself, I also co-author with Lily Harlem and have also penned some tales with Sam Crescent. Writing with someone else is always fun. Lily and myself have many works planned for the future, so keep your eyes peeled!

Some of my books include The Contract (BDSM thriller), Shadow and Darkness (BDSM Dommes),Good Cop, Bad Cop (ménage with Lily Harlem) and my Fantasies Explored series. 

I’ve been writing as Sarah for several years and have over 35 books to this name. Many of them are unavailable at the moment as I’m going through the process of resubmitting them for re-release. I have a new tale coming soon called Always with Total-E-Bound, and then it’s a busy re-release schedule throughout the year and into 2014. Available now are Tools of Justice (with Jaime Samms) and Hemlock Bones (Clandestine Classic erotic rewrite), both at Total-E-Bound.

As Sarah, 2012 was a whirlwind year of being on TV and in the newspapers. It was all a wonderful yet surreal experience that took me right out of my hermit comfort zone and into having to pull on my big girl knickers and allow people access to my life. Everything has settled down now, and once my responsibilities as my other pen names are fulfilled, I hope to start a new Sarah Masters book. 

Geraldine O’Hara is a new author as I wanted to write some books that didn’t fit the voices of either of my other erotica names. Geraldine writes comedy—I wouldn’t say chicklit because it isn’t quite that—but her tales are light, amusing, and will mainly be short stories. At the moment The Pearl Necklace is available and will quickly be followed by Pussy Pwoar and The Key.

I have several books planned for this year as Geraldine, and because they’re so much fun to write I manage to get them done quickly, so stay tuned for new, zany releases by Ms O’Hara!

All my names are in one place, so if you’re interested in knowing more about me, please visit my website www.emmyellis.com

All this week you can visit my fellow Brit Babes personal blogs to find out all about them!

2nd - Victoria Blisse

3rd - Kay Jaybee

4th - Lucy Felthouse

5th - KD Grace

6th - Tabitha Rayne

7th - Natalie Dae

8th -  Lexie Bay

And don’t forget the Brit Babe Blog itself which is a library of our books! Come on, join in the fun!!

Brit Babes on Facebook

Brit Babes on Twitter

The Pearl Necklace - Geraldine O'Hara

A short erotic story

26 pages/13K

Blurb:

After I’d tapped out a response in the comments section of an online newspaper article regarding slimming pills, I was swept from my life as a lonely wedding planner to be named The Pink Pill Diet Woman. Once the pills had worked their magic, I earned the name of Glamour Girl, and my life became an endless round of TV, radio and newspaper appearances, with stretches of boredom that led to me fantasising about my hunky security guard.

He was sexy as sin and out of my league, but a girl could dream, couldn’t she? And dream I did, any chance I got. I longed for him to slide into bed with me and treat me to a night of passion I’d never forget, but how the devil would I get him there? Management had forbidden us to interact as anything other than what we were—Glamour Girl and her bodyguard. But as well as dreaming, I had a naughty streak. Rules be damned, I was going to break them. He had a pearl necklace I wanted draped around my neck—and I was going to get it.

Excerpt:

He stood in my bedroom doorway and stared behind me at the window. “Curtains. Close them.”

I loved the way he’d commanded me, how he was trying to shirk off his shyness. It made my knees weak and my cunt ache even more. I turned and went to do as he’d asked, then stopped and said over my shoulder, “Only if you’ll tell me your name.”

“You were right earlier. It’s Henry. Now close the curtains.”

I smiled and, taking a moment once I’d shut out the night, sucked in a deep breath and fought off the urge to pinch myself that my bloody God, this was finally happening. I turned to face him, the bed between us, a huge, huge barrier, and glanced at it then back to him.

“Get on,” he said, jerking his head at the bed. “Get your clothes off and get on.”

I hadn’t undressed for a man in a long time. Before tonight it had been when I was larger—and under the cover of darkness, beneath the sheets. I just had to hope this newfound courage that was surging inside was enough to carry me through.

I popped the buttons on my skinny jeans then pushed them down my legs, sliding one foot under them once they were off and flicking them away. I watched him carefully for his reaction, and all I got was a glimpse of desire darkening his eyes before he quickly masked it. I lifted my vest top off, tossing it to the floor, and stood there in my black bra and knickers, hoping that he’d give me some idea—any idea—of what he was thinking.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so lovely,” he said. “So bloody lovely.”

He skirted the bed, and I stepped back a bit so he could stand in front of me. He raised his hands, and I held my breath, waiting for him to cup them to my breasts. He didn’t, just let them hover there, and stared down at my chest.

“Touch them,” I encouraged, sensing he was too much of a gentleman to do it without asking, even though his intent had been clear. “You don’t need my permission. Do whatever you want.”

I looked up at him, and he shifted his gaze to my face, then, maintaining eye contact, laid his hands where I so wanted them to be. His palms were deliciously warm, their heat seeping through my bra, my skin. I felt every individual finger, his thumbs, a brand that I would always remember and crave more of when we were apart. I could only hope that tonight wasn’t the only one we’d share like this, but I had to treat this time as if that were the case. Revel in every touch, caress, kiss. Enjoy each second and hope they didn’t speed by too fast.

He kneaded, and oh my God, the sensation from my nipples rasping on his palms went straight to my cunt. I wanted him to fill it with his cock, give me a fuck that I’d never forget, so lifted my hips to push my needy slit against his groin. He was hard, so deliciously hard, and the pressure of him on my clit had tendrils of pleasure radiating down there. I clenched my muscles in an attempt to stave off an orgasm that would rage through me if I let myself go now. I didn’t want to come too soon, but excitement and the sheer brilliance of being here with him in this way might prove difficult. That first burst of release was going to be heady, shocking, I imagined, and I needed to steel myself for the onslaught.

“You feel just as I thought you would,” he said, then bit his bottom lip and slid one hand up to my collarbone, the other still massaging my breast.

His fingertips on my skin, right beside the strap of my top, brought on goose bumps and a shiver so violent I worried he might think he’d repulsed me.

“You feel better than I thought you would,” I said, a little breathless, my lungs straining as though they were fit to burst. A buzz brought on by anticipation set up home in my ears, and I went lightheaded for a second or two. Bloody hell, he affected me in a way I hadn’t fully predicted. Yes, I’d known I’d go like liquid for him, my bones and heart melting at the same time, but this…this all-consuming fire? No, I hadn’t expected it to be so searing just from the simplest of touches.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

What has the internet brought into your life?

Emmy Ellis, aka Sarah Masters, Natalie Dae,
Geraldine O'Hara, Posh Gosh, Charley Oweson

I have a lot to be thankful for, and one of those things is the internet. Without it I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am today—not just with writing but things in my day-to-day life. I imagine, had I not taken my neighbour’s advice and used the internet—which we had but I’d never accessed—I would still be leading a very boring, scary-at-times life where I was never allowed to be my true self.

However, the internet opened up the world for me, and I met people who told me—sometimes bluntly, sometimes slathered in sugar coating—that I wasn’t in a life that I should be in. At first, their words didn’t register—after all, I’d been conditioned in ways where other people’s input wasn’t anything I should listen to, except, of course, if it came from certain individuals.

One day, someone said something to me in an instant message that changed my life forever. I began to think about what had been said, applied it to my life, and saw that yes, my God yes, that person was right. I needed to do things that I’d always wanted to do but hadn’t had the courage to do so. One was breaking away from a dominant force in my life—a woman I will not acknowledge as being anything to do with me ever again—and the second was to break from another force—male this time.

I divorced the pair of them and moved on, feeling freer than I’d ever been before. Things felt “right”. I felt “right”. Thus began my journey of self-discovery, knowing that I could act on whatever thoughts I wanted without them being frowned upon or advice coming my way to talk me into not doing things. For once I was able to be me—but it took a long time (years) for me to get used to being allowed that “privilege”. There are still times now where insecurity kicks in and I slip back to how I was, but they are few and far between.

I am not the same person I was. I am not frightened of much these days, and some say I’m so laid back I might fall over. I’ve learned, for the most part, not to sweat the small stuff, not to be bothered by little things that really are a waste of my thought time. I have learned to love myself, to be myself, and to not feel that doing so is wrong.

I’ve also met a wealth of people I would never have met if not for logging on for the first time that day.

I’ve made best friends for life out of total strangers.

I have cooked food I would never have eaten.

I have watched a man struggling through cancer and be so damn upbeat about it that I can do nothing but admire him. His battle is still going on and I’m rooting for him. While being so sick, he is still writing, still fighting to meet a deadline on a book so he doesn’t let his readers down. My God, what a man.

I have watched a woman fight cancer also, watched as her hair fell out and she was so tired she couldn’t think straight, yet still she ploughed on to care for her parents. I’ve watched the caring attitude of her other half, the way he is her world and she is his, the way he cares for her and nothing is too big a request. In that particular instance, I have watched pure love and continue to watch it.

I have gained a full-time job, one I love, and found that my boss is someone who I can tell my darkest secrets to—those really, really dark ones where you cry until your stomach hurts and you can’t get the words out, and she waits patiently on the other end of the line for me to tell her how I feel. She is there for me, any time, all the time, and in her I have seen the bright glimmer of an angel.

I have met some women, those who have become my close friends, who, if they lived near me, would be round my house at the drop of a hat to help me in times of need. If they had the spare cash, I have no doubt they would hop on a plane or in the car just so they could give me a hug and tell me everything will be all right. I don’t speak to them all the time—we have the kind of friendship where we’re like stars; you can’t always see them but they’re always there—and I am eternally grateful for them.

I have three special friends who I can totally be myself with—and I mean totally. We’re talking about the fact that I can say, “God, I need a big shit!” Friends where TMI doesn’t exist. They make me laugh, make me cry (in a good way!), they understand. They are the best, and I’ve been lucky enough to meet with two of them in real life. One day I will meet the third, please God.

I have been able to write and be published. Be on TV, in the newspapers. Had people read my work.

I have indulged in being myself behind the scenes, doing things for people just because I can. I have done these things for nothing but the pleasure of doing so. I have given gifts, something I love doing, and cried with those people when they’ve received them. I have felt the power of good deeds, of the priceless feelings you get when doing them.

I have been used, shit on, talked about, slated, accused of many things I haven’t done—but still I continue on, because those negative things teach me something new every time. They help me to grow.

I have made some bad calls, said some things I shouldn’t have said—many I regret as I walk through the world that is the internet, many I wish I could erase—and stumbled with etiquette, struggled with fitting in, finding my place. Accepted that some people will like me, others won’t—the same with my art and writing—knowing that I will continue anyway, doing what I love, being who I am.

But most of all, and the best thing of all, is that I am always evolving, always finding new things out about myself that I honestly don’t think I would have if it wasn’t for the vast amount of interaction that is to be had online. I would never have laughed so hard my ribs ached because of seeing a picture of dogs’ noses that looked like alien faces. I would never have cried at the video of a man who enjoyed life despite having no arms and legs—a man who changed my perspective. I would never have seen and been taught so many things.

I’ll continue to grow, I’m sure, continue to read status updates that touch me, witness snippets of people’s lives that they have been brave enough to share. To read books by people where I’ve seen their process and thoughts as they’ve been writing that book and know how much sweat and tears went in to creating it. To read memoirs like one I read at the end of last year by a woman who was so very courageous in writing it that I’ll always be in awe of her—she laid herself wide open and changed my perspective forever.

I will continue to be me as you continue to be you. Through the connection of Facebook and emails, I have the wonderful opportunity of being a part of your lives. We are all connected in a magnificent way, so many people tied by threads—some thicker than others, but threads all the same. We are so very lucky.

Thank you.

What has the internet brought into your life?