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Out Now – Coming Attractions by Rosie Vanyon (@RVanyon) #romance #erotica #mf

Coming AttractionsBlurb

During a freak summer storm, screenwriter and heiress, Cara Kelly and movie producer, Levi Callister are marooned alone for days in a mansion used as the set for an erotic film series.

When Levi discovers Cara sleeping naked in one of the sensuously themed rooms, the two embark on a collision course that can only end up in flagrante.

Cara is a nomadic loner, too afraid to commit to family, a home—or even a potted begonia.

Levi is a player—a womanizer and entrepreneur. He needs a lot of money, fast.

So, when sparks fly between the unlikely pair both in and outside of the various sexily-decorated bedrooms, Cara can’t help wondering if Levi’s insatiable interest in her is real—or if it’s just her missing inheritance he’s chasing.

 

Buy links

Amazon UK | Amazon US | All Romance eBooks | Barnes & Noble | Evernight Publishing | Smashwords

 

Excerpt

She was practically naked—the last pastel pink scrap of lace hid nothing. He could see, touch, taste everything. And yet there was something incredibly intimate and romantic about the slide of his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, the slow drift of lace and fingertips over her thighs, the feel of his breath against her center.

She was desperately aroused, screamingly eager, wet and hot and throbbing for him. Her clit was puckered tight and the muscles inside her were clenched with anticipation.

He let her panties slither to her ankles, clasped the cheeks of her butt, and pressed his scorching mouth hard and without warning against her wet sex. His lips were apart and he sucked her inside his mouth—the whole plump folded core of her—and his tongue probed unerringly to her clitoris. The feel of his mouth was the most incredible pressure she had ever experienced. The fast, sure flicking of his tongue inside the full suckling of his lips almost drove her out of her mind. She had not known there was pleasure like this to be had.

Her whole body was flushed with longing, her breath was growing irregular, and her pulse was breakdancing all over the place. She could feel the tantalizing edges of orgasm fluttering around the limits of her excitement. But she needed more. Something to tip her over that exquisite, elusive precipice.

“More…” she gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he pressed his face between her thighs, maintaining her pleasure. But even as she begged, she had no idea how he could deliver what she needed. His ministrations were already utterly and deliciously absorbing.

She clung to him, a single drop of perspiration trickling between her engorged breasts as she gasped her need.

“Please…” The word was thin and strangled. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for.

He slid his right hand from her buttocks around her hip and across her thigh. With nothing more than a gesture, he commanded her thighs apart and, lost in a maelstrom of lust, she mindlessly acquiesced. She felt utterly wanton standing before this man, legs spread while he thrilled her with his talented mouth, his hand stroking relentlessly up and down her thighs.

His fingers traveled lightly, teasingly, sometimes grazing the trimmed hair at her center, occasionally brushing the fleshy entrance to her feminine core.

She could barely catch her breath now and she felt dizzy. Her throat was clamped shut and the razzle-dazzle of dancing lights behind her eyelids told her she was close to losing consciousness. She was no longer holding his shoulders for balance and encouragement. Instead, her fingers dug into his skin for support, and as a desperate plea for him to take her where she needed to go.

“Please, Levi, please…”

He didn’t hesitate. On the next upstroke between her thighs, he drove his finger deep into her sex. Plunging the digit once, twice, thrice into her soaked and scorching channel.

And then she flew apart. The orgasm rocketed through her like a searing star shower. There was no room for thought. Her release was pure sensation, so intense it was almost painful, so complete it was practically spiritual. The spasms rocked the depths of her very being and even as they began to subside, she knew what Levi had given her was a gift both precious and rare, and that the experience had changed her so profoundly there was no return.

Gently, lovingly, he helped her to the bed, easing her quaking body down on the silken covers, sliding beside her and gathering her in his arms. Slowly, as though from far, far away, she came back to herself. First she noticed the warmth of his body in the cool air of the room, the scuff his body hair against her smooth skin, the soothing glide of his fingertips over her quivering arm and her hip. His heartbeat beneath her ear was a perfect counterpoint to the rain thrumming against the window. His breath tasted faintly of mint and wine and her own musk. Her breathing slowed to match his lungs’ steady rhythm and her trembling began to abate.

“You look beautiful there,” he murmured against her hair. “Your golden hair spread all across the bed, your skin glowing, your lips swollen…”

His hands emphasized his words, stroking her body more intently as he spoke. Of their own volition, her fingers followed suit, trailing over his skin, mindlessly exploring the bulges and hollows of his body. He shivered when her short fingernails skimmed his nipple, gasped when she trailed her index finger down his hip toward the waistband of his briefs.

There was no mistaking his arousal. The thick length of him spasmed every time her hand drew close, and there was a tell-tale spot of dampness near the tip. Enjoying his responses, she teasingly drew her fingers around his belly and down the edges of his jutting hipbones, across the elastic of his underwear and up and down the arrow of hair between his navel and the stretch of blue fabric. He hissed and growled and squirmed under her ministrations.

“You are going to drive me completely insane,” he ground out, but he made no move to hurry her or change her agenda. She could see the pulse leaping at his throat, the desperate bob of his Adam’s apple, the sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

She smiled saccharine sweetly at him and deliberately brushed her hand over the bulge in his pants.

“Really?” Cara said. She did it again. “I’m so sorry…”

“Funny, Cara, you don’t sound very sorry.”

Was he actually panting?

She quirked an eyebrow, her gaze all delighted mischief. “It’s hard to be sorry when there’s this tempting package right in front of me, just begging to be unwrapped.”

“If you’d like to unwrap it, Cara, be my guest.”

“Oh, I’ll unwrap it all right, but I like to open my presents in my own sweet time. I enjoy prolonging the anticipation.”

She scuttled up his body and swallowed his groan in her mouth from her position beside him. The taste of him was complex and addictive. His lips were clever and intuitive. His tongue was thorough and tempting. Cara felt as though she could stay here, kissing like this, lost in Levi forever.

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Author bio

In between writing romantic stories, Rosie Vanyon is building a house on a hillside with stunning mountain views in her childhood home, Tasmania. She’s looking forward to sharing her dream house with her high-maintenance dog and a couple of naughty-but-smoochy cats. She has a Creative Arts degree and a grown-up job in financial services. Rosie has been a writer and editor in fields as diverse as motoring, travel and tax. She is relieved and elated to (once again) let loose her ‘romance author’ alter-ego. At last, she is following her heart.

Social media

http://www.facebook.com/rosievanyon

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Lily Harlem’s RULE BREAKER is Now Out!

rulebreaker_800Rule Breaker by Lily Harlem

Rule Breaker, a dark erotic romance novel by Lily Harlem, is out now from Totally Bound and all other good ebook retailers Amazon   Amazon UK ARe Kobo B&N Sony ibooks .

 

Back Cover Information

Locks, keys and prison bars can’t contain a love that’s meant to roam wild and free, but when that love is let loose, will Lacey be able to handle what’s heading her way?

 Rules are meant to protect the innocent and keep danger at bay—except for me. The lines blur, and it all started when I met the ultimate bad boy. But is he? Miller Davenport might be big, bad and brimming with sin but he’s confessed his crimes and for ten years he’s served his time and walked the line.

Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And as his nurse—the one person who understands him—I can’t help but count the days till we can be together properly, without guards watching over us and without every look and word we share censored.

When that day comes, though, will our desire for each other explode and take me to the new heights he’s promised? And if so, how will I survive such intensity?

One thing is for sure. With Miller I’ll be whisked up in a whirlwind of his dark energy and a tornado of his lust, and likely taken to the very edge of what I can handle. I can’t help a few nerves, though, as release day approaches, because if it all comes crashing down, who can I depend on when I’ve ridden into the sunset with a man who’s broken all the rules? Will I be saved or will I have pushed everyone and everything too far?

 

 

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of exhibitionism, anal play and light restraint.

 

 rulebreaker_facebook

 

Rule Breaker Excerpt:

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just go with the first one they show me. Fuck it, it’s a cake shop. They’ll all be bloody nice.” He glanced at Miller then back to me. “Do you mind if I make a call while you—?”

“Not at all, go ahead.” I waved him to the seat. “This is my last time with Miller anyway, so I’m sure he’ll behave.”

Miller’s jaw was tense. His eyebrows drew low and a small muscle flexed in his cheek.

Barry pulled out his phone and, without glancing at me again, dropped his bulk into the chair—the legs scraped on the hard floor. He started scrolling over the screen.

“Come on,” I said to Miller.11218804_10206234015150186_5016125009797362539_n

He followed me into the clinical room.

I walked up to the counter and reached for my tray of equipment.

“Lacey.”

I startled. He was right behind me.

He set his hands on the work surface, one either side of my body, trapping me against it with his torso.

“What?” I whispered, glancing at the door, my head brushing his.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, his mouth right against my ear.

A thrill and a chill went through me as my neck and scalp tingled and tightened at his nearness.

“What about it?” I placed my right hand over his, cupping his hard knuckles. It was a bold move, but touching him was what I craved—I couldn’t help myself.

I heard him pull in a breath. “Meet me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you fucking want. Just be there.” He paused and pushed a little harder against me.

His groin, the outline of his cock, semi-hard, nestled against the crack of my buttocks. Lust blazed through my veins. Damn it, tomorrow was too long to wait.

But we had to.

“There’s a pub, round the corner from here,” I said. “The Cow and Slipper.”

He turned his hand and gripped my forearm. His fingertips pressed over my pulse points, his fingers were big and dark against the delicate veiny underside of my wrist.

11698665_1655255248043126_8459995044649230714_n“I’ll be there at noon,” he said.

“So will I.”

“Thank you.” He pressed his cheek against my ear. The weight of his head was heavy against mine.

I leaned into him. The daring, risky move heightened all of my senses. His chest against my shoulders, his breath on my cheek and his stubble against my temple. And damn, his body shoved into mine, his cock pushing through clothes against my arse. I wanted it. All of it.

“We’ll take it slow,” he whispered. “Get to know each other without a boss watching over us. Speak freely about what we want. I’m not in it for a lay. What we have is special. I’m doing this because I want you—always have, from the first time I saw you.” He paused. “But you know that.”

I swallowed and turned. I did know that.

He released my wrist.

I looked up at him. This was the closest we’d ever been. I was surrounded by him, wrapped up in him. It was where I wanted to be.

He leaned a little closer and his chest brushed against mine.

My nipples drew into pinched peaks, scraping against the inner cups of my bra.

“I thought of you last night,” he said. He lifted his hand and caressed my cheek. The small hard patches of skin, from where he banged weights, scratched against my flesh.

“What did you think?” I asked, my hands hovering. I wanted to touch him but didn’t dare, for fear that I wouldn’t be able to stop.

I glanced at the door again.

11038729_1382977422028978_4221721081181013521_n“Shh, it’s okay. I can still hear him talking,” he said.

“Maybe you should tell me tomorrow, when we don’t have to rush.” My heart was racing, adrenaline swamping my system. The thought of Barry catching us like this had me on a knife’s edge, but I couldn’t push Miller away. Barry had been instructed to behave like Miller might be a danger to me, yet I’d never felt safer than at this moment with Miller’s full attention—with Miller, big, bad now-tamed Miller, looming over me.

I knew what he was, what he was capable of, but he’d been reformed. He was being let out. The judge, the crown, had decided he’d paid for his crimes and he was no longer a danger to society.

Which meant he wasn’t a danger to me.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow then,” he said, lowering his head. “If that’s what you want.”

I stared into his dark eyes, at the way his lashes pointed slightly downward. They weren’t curled, and he had a tiny freckle like a teardrop under his left eye. I hadn’t noticed that before. Hadn’t been close enough.

“I’ll look after you, hen,” he whispered. “Don’t ever be afraid of me. I’m not violent. I’m a good man now. I’ll be your good man for as long as you’ll have me. I promise. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not…scared, that is.”

“Good.” He leaned closer still. I looked at his lips. I could see every tiny dent and crease on them, his top one was thinner than the bottom and with stubble peppered right up to the outline.

Fuck, is he going to kiss me?

We couldn’t.

Not here.

Not now.

“No,” I mouthed.

He pressed his closed lips to mine. They were dry, yet soft. He held my head in both of his hands and pushed his hard body forward, trapping me against the counter.

I whimpered and clung to his forearms. Terror and desire warred within me. I’d lose my job. He could lose his good-behavior privilege and be held for the remainder of his sentence.

It was the most reckless kiss I’d ever experienced, yet also the gentlest, sweetest connection I could ever remember.

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4He pulled back.

I opened my eyes.

His were still shut.

He furled his tongue over his bottom lip, as though tasting me there.

“Jesus,” he said quietly. “How the hell am I going to get through this last night without you?”

“Stop.” I rested my hands on his chest and pushed. “Please, save this for tomorrow.” Again I threw a glance at the door.

“Okay.” He opened his eyes, released me and stepped back. He held up his palms as if surrendering. “This last bit is the hardest though. I guess it’s like running a marathon. It’s all shit but the last mile? The last hundred yards? That’s what really gets you here.” He banged his chest. “It’s the shitiest bit.”

“I suppose.” I rubbed the tip of my index finger on my lips, reliving the sensation of his mouth on mine.

“Fucking genius you are, Lacey,” Barry said, walking in.
A flash of surprise went over Miller’s face.

Alarm must have crossed mine too.

Neither of us had heard him finish his conversation or been aware of him approaching the clinical room.

Bloody hell. If he’d come in ten seconds ago…no, make that five seconds ago.

 

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes lily-harlemfor publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Pride Publishing, Evernight Publishing, Xcite, and Sweetmeats Press. Her work regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot, In Expert Hands and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily writes MF, MM and ménage a trois, her books regularly hit the #1 spot on Amazon Best Seller lists and Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2014. Her latest MM novel is Dark Warrior.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

 

Find Lily on the Web

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk

BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk

Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

 

 

One Night In Brussels – A Question Of Trust by Elizabeth Coldwell

tourbutton_ONiBrusselsHi, KD, thanks for giving me the chance to talk about One Night In Brussels. Actually, the topic I’m going to discuss is one that’s raised by a lot of erotic romance, and that’s the question of trust. By that, I don’t necessarily mean the trust between a dominant and a submissive, though that’s certainly one of the elements that comes up in the story.

On a more basic level, I’m wondering how far you can ever trust someone you’ve only just met. The concept behind the City Nights books is that all the action in the story has to take place over the course of 24 to 48 hours. In some cases, the characters are rekindling an old love affair or spicing up an existing relationship, and so obviously they already know each other. But One Night In Brussels, in common with many of the other novellas in the series, features two characters getting together for the first time, and that creates its own set of issues.

Insta-love has become a popular theme in erotic romance. Indeed, we’re almost hardwired to believe in love at first sight thanks to the fairy tales we’ve grown up with. In Prince Charming’s case, all it takes is one dance and a piece of exotic footwear for him to decide Cinderella is the woman for him. In the real world, however, the emotion we’re most likely to feel on meeting a stranger for the first time is lust, which helps to power the erotic elements of a story. But what about trusting a person enough to make a strong and lasting connection? After all, you can’t really love someone you don’t know, and trust is a big part of the getting-to-know-you process. When you give your heart to someone else, you need to be confident that they’re not going to break it – and that helps to create the tension in a romance.

When One Night In Brussels begins, Saskia is bored and needs to get out of a rut. She craves adventure, but finding it isn’t that easy. When she meets handsome businessman Dominic, there’s an obvious sexual attraction between them. She’s comfortable acting on that attraction at first, because she thinks she’s heading for a night involving a nice dinner, a few drinks and whatever might come after that. Then Dominic behaves in a way that makes her question everything she assumed about him, and she has to decide whether she trusts him enough to keep her safe as danger threatens.

And what about the domination and submission scenario I mentioned earlier? Well, as the night progresses Saskia begins to explore some of her wildest erotic fantasies, including letting a lover take control of her for the very first time. But if you want to find out more, you’ll just have to read the story – I can trust you to do that, can’t I?

 

Excerpt:

“I want you to undress for me, Saskia.”

His voice holds a low, commanding tone—one that compels her to obey. With her back to him, she can’t see his face, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t need to know his name, his profession, his favourite foods or any of the mundane details on which relationships are formed. This is to be one night of shared bliss, and nothing more. They will give each other perfect satisfaction then go their separate ways, taking only their memories with them.

She pulls the zip of her tight-fitting black dress all the way down, then pushes the thin straps off her shoulders. From the view she’s presenting to him, he’ll be aware she isn’t wearing a bra, but she’ll tease him a moment longer before letting him see her full, bare breasts. By the time she’s naked she wants him so hard his erection will be threatening to burst the zip of his faded jeans.

The dress slithers to her feet and she steps out of it. She stands in only a pair of thong-backed panties that leave most of her bottom cheeks exposed, and tall black come-fuck-me heels. She’s tempted to sneak a glance over her shoulder to see whether he’s stroking himself through his clothing. Excitement ripples through her at the thought that she’s already got him so excited he needs to play with his cock.

“Oh, that’s nice,” he murmurs.

Saskia assumes he’s talking about her barely clad bum and gives it a saucy wiggle. “You like it?”

“I love it. But you need to lose those panties, too, sweetheart.”

She feigns coyness, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down a fraction before stopping, as though she’s gone as far as she’s prepared to. The idea that he might leap from the bed and rip the flimsy garment clean off her body has her juices flowing and her rosy nipples stiffening into peaks. But he seems content to stay where he is, happy with the show she’s putting on for him.

When she cups her mound through her panties, heat radiates through the wet fabric. She bends forward a little way and slides her hand lower, pressing it into the seam of her swollen lips. He has to be able to see her fingertips peeping from between the gap in her widely parted thighs, touching herself in the place he must ache to, and it feels so deliciously rude to torment him like this.

“Oh, you dirty little minx,” he groans.

There’s a harsh rasp as his zip comes down and now she’s sure he has himself in hand. She risks a peek and her suspicions are proved right. He’s easing his big fist slowly up and down his length. His eyes are half-closed and his head rests on the pillows piled high against the wrought iron bedstead.

To the steady rhythm of his palm slapping against his cock, Saskia eases her underwear all the way down. Then she turns round and throws the damp scrap of silk in his direction. She doesn’t know which of them is the more surprised when he catches them in his free hand without missing a stroke with the other.

He puts the panties to his nose, breathing in Saskia’s scent. “Come here, gorgeous,” he growls, and she does.

She yearns to sink down on the fat, upstanding column of flesh he’s gripping so tightly, but he appears to have other things in mind.

“Lie down,” he orders her, climbing off the bed so she can take the place he’s vacated. He undresses in haste, letting his jeans slide off his slim hips. He isn’t wearing anything beneath them, and once his T-shirt is peeled off, he’s as naked as she is. She can’t help but notice he has no tan lines, and she pictures him relaxing in the nude on a sheltered sun terrace, or maybe some secluded beach, letting his skin turn that gorgeous shade of honey-gold.

“I’ve got a treat for you,” he tells her.

When she looks in his direction, he’s picked up a small bottle with a vaguely Aztec design on its label.

“Massage oil.” He runs his hand through his dark hair. “A blend designed for pure erotic pleasure…”

 

One Night in BrusselsBlurb:

Saskia van Gaal works as a translator for the European Commission, dreaming of a life filled with excitement and hot sex. When she bumps into suave, sexy Englishman, Dominic May, and offers to be his tour guide in the beautiful city of Brussels, she doesn’t realise she’s about to embark on the wildest night of her life.

A stolen necklace is only the beginning of the adventure, and when Dominic and Saskia are threatened by a knife-wielding robber, things threaten to spiral out of control.

Has Saskia misjudged Dominic? Should she trust him? And as their sex games grow hotter and ever more inventive, can she ever guess how this night will end?

Buy links:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1k4BSdD
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1PPBJqX
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/561799?ref=cw1985
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/one-night-in-brussels-1
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-brussels-elizabeth-coldwell/1122360825

 

Liz ColdwellBio:

Elizabeth Coldwell is a multi-published author and the former editor of the UK edition of Forum magazine, where she was responsible for publishing a number of now very well-known authors for the first time, as well as honing her own writing.

She lives in East London, is a season ticket holder at Rotherham United and a keen cook. Her recipe for peanut butter brownies is available if you ask nicely…

You can find her at The (Really) Naughty Corner (http://elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com) and Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2896146.Elizabeth_Coldwell)

 

*****

GIVEAWAY!

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Out Now – Something Different by Nia Farrell #erotica #menage #mfm #bdsm

SOMETHING DIFFERENT coverSOMETHING DIFFERENT (The Three Graces Book Two) is a standalone MFM ménage BDSM rock star erotic romance by Nia Farrell.  Only $2.99 for a potty mouthed gamer girl and triple platinum indie artists who are about to rock her world.

 

REVIEWERS:

“Sexy and sultry”  “Fun and hot…This ménage à trois, featuring two sexy rock star brothers and a talented musician, will leave you breathless and wanting for more.” “Nia Farrell did not disappoint. Although Something Different is a heavier BDSM read than its predecessor, it was well written and flowed well. I cannot wait for more in this series.”

 

BLURB:

Singer/songwriter Anna James is getting desperate.  Even with a day job, money’s tight, and she’s wound tighter yet, having sworn off sex to reconcile with her mother who’s in chemo and her father who disowned her for her wild, wicked ways.  No sooner than her psychic best friend predicts an end to Anna’s self-imposed drought, rock stars Jackson and Jacob Thomason come to town, with the dream of an indie album co-written with local American Indian flutist Nico White and his songwriting partner, Anna’s alter ego AJ McPherson.  From the first, it’s clear that the triple-platinum indie rock stars want more than her music, but does Anna dare submit to the part-Comanche twin brothers who perform as No Mercy?

 

Buy links to Something Different:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes and Noble | Allromance | BookStrand | Smashwords | Dark Hollows Press | Goodreads

Three Graces DHP banner jpeg 300

The Three Graces Series by Nia Farrell

SOMETHING ELSE August 25, 2015

SOMETHING DIFFERENT September 29, 2015

SOMETHING MORE October 15, 2015

from Dark Hollows Press

SOMETHING DIFFERENT teaser 1 banner jpeg

Excerpt:

They’re staring now, trying to reconcile reality with my stage name and with how I look in the cheesy publicity photo I use, shot four years ago when I turned eighteen and my mother wanted the whole glamour thing captured for posterity. She’s never forgiven me for refusing to let them tease and torture my hair. In the shot, I’m looking over my shoulder like I’m caught in a fucking daydream, while my thick, straight hair drapes my back like a black silk curtain.

I wear my hair shorter now, streaked with red and purple. Those splashes of color and my asymmetrical cut keep it well this side of boring.

My eyes, on the other hand, are the same. Unlike my hair, they wouldn’t improve with the enhancement of colored contacts. They’re purple. Fucking Liz Taylor purple–one of those anomalies of nature that my mother can’t explain. Hell, I’ve caught my dad looking at me sideways, like I might be the spawn of an incubus, ‘cause there’s no way that I belong to the Chinese-born mail man. I guess my wild ways haven’t given him any peace of mind, either. Shit, when I met Grace, she didn’t screw, didn’t swear. Now she goes to bed with two strapping men every night and has a mouth that could make a biker blush. As far as I’m concerned, my corruption of her is complete.

Right now, she’s staying blessedly silent. The Thomason twins are, too.

When the intensity of their stares shifts from kind of rude to downright disconcerting, I’m tempted to stick out my tongue and tease them with the surgical steel ball I’ve sported since I turned twenty-one last year. Right now Jacob’s looking at the diamond stud adorning my left nostril, and Jackson’s staring at my C-cup breasts, his own nostrils flaring as my responsive nipples tighten to hardened nubs.

Enough of this shit.

“Guys.” I drop my voice to a husky whisper that could earn six figures at a 900 number. “I might use an outdated picture to throw people off, but my eyes–they’re fucking purple, for Christ’s sake.”

Yep, the eyes have it. Recognizing them, both men sit straighter and exchange a look that makes excitement thrum in my veins. They’re here to see Nico, but why? I remind myself to breathe, tell myself to slow down before my imagination runs too wild. They wouldn’t be the first major artists wanting to lay tracks with the American Indian artist and his native flutes.

“So…AJ–Anna James.” Jackson says it likes he’s tasting my name, tasting me.

I swear my pussy’s gushing. Okay, so they might not have come looking for me, but they know my work. They’re big fish in my small pond, and their recognition means everything to someone like me.

“Yes, but please, guys, call me Anna. Jax. Jake.”

Recognizing them as individuals, and not just as No Mercy, earns me a brownie point. I rack up more for not going all fangirl on them.

“You work with Nico White. Motherfucker.” Jackson eyes his brother, then turns back to Grace. “Nico’s expecting us at eight. I suppose we’ll see you both then?”

Eight? Shit. That’s–

“You’ll see more of Anna,” Grace tells them. “I make myself scarce on music writing night. The energy’s too intense for me.”

I’ve suspected as much, but the lake where she lives with her lovers is really conducive to creativity. So, rather than meet at the apartment I rent above a vintage storefront on Main Street or somewhere else, Nico and I have our songwriting sessions at their house. Grace, bless her, doesn’t complain, since it means she gets to have some alone-time with J.T., the half-Puerto Rican member of their threesome.

While Grace starts a review of local businesses that would make a Chamber of Commerce proud, I’m thinking of tonight. I might be working with these two men, writing for them. Fuck, maybe we’ll be writing with them. The possibility makes me wet. I know how Nico and I work. Our collaborations are so natural, so organic. We’re comfortable with each other.

These two make me anything but.

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Author Nia FarrellAUTHOR BIO:

Nia Farrell has been writing for pleasure since junior high. Now that she writes about pleasure, she can share the fantasy worlds she visits and introduce readers to characters who remain with her long after their tales are told.

When crafting a story, Nia draws upon a rich diversity of life experiences, which include singer/songwriter, prize winning needle artist, private pilot, Reiki Master/Teacher, crystal healer, psychic fair reader, jewelry maker, physician’s assistant, factory worker, waitress, genealogist, period reenactor, and children’s author. If this life isn’t enough, there are plenty of others to choose from. Otherwise, she devotes hours of research to subjects outside her realm, determined that her stories ring true.

Nia lives on a farm in Southern Illinois (far, far from Chicago, in the heart of “Little Egypt”). A seventh generation Illinoisan, she is descended from Mayflower Pilgrims, American soldiers from the Revolutionary War to World War II, and Scottish nobility. She enjoys playing in the past and visits Ren fairs and historical reenactments in period attire, sharing her love of history and her passion for music. While her husband and two grown daughters may only read her nonfiction work, she appreciates their support in pursuing her dreams, one of which is being published in erotic romance.

Nia Farrell’s Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/?q=#/pages/Author-Nia-Farrell/1678898589004941?ref=bookmarks

Nia Farrell’s Tumblr page http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com/

Nia Farrell’s Twitter page https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell

Nia Farrell’s Amazon page http://www.amazon.com/Nia-Farrell/e/B014HAAWLK/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1441506277&sr=1-2-ent

Nia Farrell’s Author page at Dark Hollows Press http://www.darkhollowspress.com/#!nia-farrell/c1mop

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WORDS! A Complete Story by F. Leonora Solomon

Oooh! I feel all Muse-y today, and in a very delicious way. I am very honoured to have the fabulously Bernini Hades and Persephone close uptumblr_lg4h59T3z31qe2nvuo1_500talented and naturally naughty F. Leonora Solomon with me today sharing a wonderful story that has its roots in one of those shared writerly conversations that inspires. This one happened this year at Eroticon. It’s SO true, we can’t do it alone, and from hat sharing comes amazing things. And F. Leonora, you can rub me like a genie any time! Thank you SO much for sharing you story with us! 

*****

So I think KD Grace is brilliant, I have had the pleasure of meeting her at all three Eroticons that I attended, and she is BRILLIANT. We were walking out of a session at the last con, and I was basically rubbing her like a genie (semi-figuratively), for inspiration because I was feeling stuck. Somehow the idea for this story came about organically, and she invited me to be a guest on her blog. It took me a little bit…but now I have this to share with her—and you…

 

Writers cannot do it on their own, we need to be inspired. I am grateful that so many of my writer friends inspire me. Thank you KD! xxx

 

Words
by F. Leonora Solomon

IMG_0333He was not the love of her life by any means. They had only gone out a couple of times—in some cases he just filled the space just so that she would not be alone. After a few drinks—they did not even have dinner—she wanted more than his conversation.

Lying on her side now, the night after, she could still feel the scruff of his stubble all over her body. She liked the chafed feeling of where his mouth had been on her. His mouth was the ultimate turn-on for her. Not so much the feeling of it, but what he said.

You like it rough don’t you, you like it raw right?

The timbre of his voice had moved right along her labia. She pressed her legs together, and then parted them.

You felt that right between your legs, didn’t you? You’re already wet, aren’t you?

Kitt nodded in memory against her pillow, its soft cotton for a moment fooled her into feeling like his stubble. She caressed the divide between her breasts, in her loose-fitting nightgown. Without any effort, her breasts slipped out of it.

She caressed their softness, and her hypersensitivity made her feel more aroused that she should have. She was in bed alone, but thinking about having him in her bed the night before…thinking about what they had done, how he touched her was sexier than having done it with him.

You’re so wet, can you hear how wet you are? You are making so much noise, because you are so wet. You’re a squirter aren’t you?

Kitt had panted so heavily, moving with him at that point. She had wanted to answer him that she had never squirted, but her words were unintelligible.

She did not squirt, but she did come. Not one of her best orgasms, but she did come with him.

Oh next time, I am going to make you squirt. I am going to make you flood this bed…

Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020She now stopped caressing her breasts. Her nightgown was up over her hips, and both of her hands were between her legs.

You like that don’t you, you like that so much you filthy girl. You like it better when I say it, and tell you how filthy you are too. I know you do…

Kitt was tangled in her sheets after, hair in her mouth and her clenched fists damp with her own come. Between her legs tremored with the memory of things that he had said into the nape of her neck the night before.

Untangling herself from her sheets, she went to the bathroom. A stream of pleasure moved through her body, as she sat on the toilet. Kitt’s eyes were damp with post-orgasm tears, but her breathing had slowed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her phone flash. She should not have kept it near her bed, but she knew who it was.

america-artist-art-paintings-prints-note-cards-by-howard-chandler-christy-nude-women-reading-approximate-original-size-18x16Can I come…over?

She nodded at his words, even before she typed her reply.

Yes you can come over me…

Kitt giggled meaning that typo, knowing he knew it.

You can come over to* me, I meant…

She was sure he would have a lot of words for her…when he came…

 

everything about F. Leonora Solomon is at:

https://fdotleonora.wordpress.com

 

 
© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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