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Renee Rose Talks Sex Magic in Avalon

One of the very best things about Eroticon is meeting new people, and one of those people I had the pleasure of meeting was the lovely and spankalicious Renee Rose, and I’m totally delighted to have her on A Hopeful Romantic today! Welcome Renee Rose! 

Renee Rose held for ransom10002819_421069491372812_32935404_nI had the immense pleasure of attending KD Grace’s workshop at Eroticon on Spirituality and Sex. The topic is one that has always intrigued me. I believe there is power and magic in sex and it can be as sacred an act as giving birth or transitioning to death.

In my new Avalon romance, a sex rite eventually brings the hero and heroine together, but the beginning of the relationship is full of tension. Ariana, a priestess of Avalon is kidnapped and held for ransom by a mercenary knight who seeks the release of his clan members from her brother’s dungeon. Keeping two characters cooped up in a small room together for a week (particularly when one character is tied up the entire time) gives a kinky author all kinds of opportunities for forced intimacies and deserved punishments.  Here’s a little snippet of their banter:

They were not taught to send curses at Avalon. She had been raised to bless, to elevate spirits, to bring harmony and peace. Yet, she knew the elders understood magic well enough to send evil, too. If she could send love to heal, she could also send hatred to harm.

After some concentrated effort, her captor’s eye began to twitch and a sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Lift your curse, highness.”

Her lips curved into a satisfied smile. She did not know what he felt, but it seemed her darkness had an effect. “What curse?” she asked innocently.

“Lift it.”

“Or what?”


She expected a threat, rather than supplication and his appeal unsteadied her. In truth, she feared the power coursing through her. It had an unfamiliar, dense darkness and her naval center felt heavy and sick.

“Do you tell me you do not deserve it?”

He rubbed one temple as if she had given him a headache. “Aye. I deserve it. Yet it does not serve either of us. Do you wish to be guarded by a wounded dog? I am far meaner when I am in pain.”


When Sir Gorran’s people disappear after a raid on a Saxon settlement, he kidnaps Princess Ariana, a priestess of Avalon, and demands their return. Though he knew he risked Ariana’s curse as well as a lifetime hiding from the king’s sword, he does not realize his greatest risk in holding the lovely princess for ransom is to his heart.

The intimacy shared with her kidnapper leaves Ariana wounded by the experience and his reappearance at the annual tournament only deepens her pain. When her brother foists him on her as a guardian and slave she must come to terms with her feelings for the dominant warrior. Will she send him away to his death, or will she realize her pain is only caused by living without him?

Renee Rose Spanking Romance10003387_421069588039469_1490927064_nPublisher’s Note: This book contains spanking, anal punishment and erotic sex scenes.

Buy Now on Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, ARe

Renee Rose is a modern dance teacher, Feldenkrais Practitioner(R), energy worker and kinkster. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around her favorite kink: spanking.  She can be found on:








Do you know when I first started loving you? Demelza Hart Explores the Question

Thank you so much, KD for once again hosting me at you blog.

Demelza HartSatedSomeone once said that a man grows to love the person he is attracted to and a woman becomes attracted to the person she loves.

It’s all bollocks, of course, but in many ways this explains Tara and Patrick’s relationship in my trilogy, Suited to You.

Neither of them is looking for love at first, but perhaps they conform to the stereotype after all.

I love that moment in The Sound of Music when the Captain and Maria reveal when they first fell in love with the other. Touchingly and interestingly, for both, it’s very early on in their acquaintance, almost immediately in fact, with little incidents that reveal something personal and intimate about them. Is it always that way?

In Suited to You, Tara doesn’t believe herself to be in love with Patrick. She wants sex, she’s come looking for sex and, on the surface, she seems to conform more to the male stereotype – slowly falling in love with the person she’s attracted to. But perhaps she’s fallen far earlier than that?

Like the dominant hero in so many erotic romances, it’s not what we know about him but what we don’t know about him that renders him irresistible. The very things which are supposed to keep Patrick – The Suit – emotionally distanced from Tara in fact make her fall for him. His anonymity, his aloofness, his control – in his mind, and hers, these are designed to keep the feelings at arms’ length, but in actuality they compel her to him, not only physically but emotionally. Tara is hooked even before the overwhelming physical attraction takes hold.

As for Patrick? Well, despite all the moody, enigmatic brooding, he’s a bloke, after all – more predictable, perhaps. Does he fulfil the male paradigm and eventually fall in love with Tara? You’ll have to read the series to find out.

Here’s a taste from the final part, Sated:

‘Shit! I’m bloody supposed to be at work!’

Demelza Hart9781783751266_FCAs the thin dawn light crept into the room behind the heavy velvet curtains, I tore myself awake with a panic.

Patrick rolled over and placed an arm over me before I could escape.

‘No, you’re not. It’s sorted, don’t worry. No one expects you to get from Devon to Dean Street in two hours.’

‘But Sarah’s not even my boss any more! What if the new editor’s there today?’

‘Relax,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘She’s not starting until next week. Technically, as assistant editor, you’re the boss, and you’ve just given yourself the day off.’

‘Have I?’ He was kissing over my body, which once again awakened instantly. He’d already reached my collar bone.

‘Hm-mm. Or at least … you’re working from home.’

Left nipple.

‘On what?’

Right nipple.


Belly button.


Left hip.

‘Mating rituals in the West Country.’

Right hip.

Demelza HartExposed properI tittered. ‘Oo-arr, moy darlin’ – does that mean spreading me all over in clotted cream and licking it off?’

Clit. Oh, definitely my clit.

I moaned and arched. He broke off and glanced up.

‘Among other things. Plenty of time to explore that –’ he spun me over and yanked me up onto my knees ‘– and more.’ And he thrust into me, hard and long, right up in one go.

Demelza Hart loves both contemporary and historical erotica and erotic romance. Suited to You, published by Xcite Books, follows the exhibitionist, spontaneous sexual encounters of Tara and her lover, Patrick, otherwise known as The Suit, and is her first trilogy. Her stories can be found in all the usual places, but please join Demelza on Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/demelza.hart.3

Twitter – https://twitter.com/DemelzaHart

or her blog – http://demelzahart.wordpress.com/

Buy the Suited to You Trilogy Here:












Lucy Felthouse Gives Us A Taste of Rome

A Taste of Rome by Lucy Felthouse


Book three of the World of Sin series.atasteofrome

Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst have travelled to London and Paris on their “gap year” adventure, before starting university. Now it’s on to Rome.

The American girls they met in Paris are along for the ride, providing lots of sexy fun for the boys. But as no one in the foursome is looking for commitment, there’s still plenty of scope for hooking up with the locals. Voyeurism, cougars, risky outdoor sex and threesomes abound in the Italian leg of the boys’ European adventure.

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-taste-of-rome/

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18399288-a-taste-of-rome



Ryan came to the conclusion that perhaps this journey wasn’t so horrendous after all. He’d been a little miffed that the American girls, Shanna and Taryn, had wanted to tag along from Paris to Rome with him and Kristian. He’d been keen not to end up with any chicks who wanted more than a one night stand, figuring that any romantic entanglements would screw up their footloose and fancy-free gap year trip. Their last year of freedom, without commitment, before they went to University and had to grow up, buckle down.

In the here and now, however, Ryan decided that Shanna actually wasn’t that bad. It seemed she was determined to spice up the never-ending coach trip from Paris to Rome. Eight hundred and seventy miles, thirteen hours. They’d known when they’d booked it that it would be nigh on intolerable, but it was the cheapest way to travel. And having sat in the increasingly stuffy, tiny coach, Ryan could see why. It made cramped seats in coach class on a flight feel like first class.

Shanna had removed her jacket as the crap air-conditioning was utterly failing to cool down the cabin. It had been draped over her lap for a while before she slid it across so it covered part of his too. Ryan frowned, wondering why she thought it was a good idea to make him warmer. He was already melting in the heat. Then she slipped her hand beneath the jacket and moved it over his crotch. She squeezed his flaccid cock, making her intentions absolutely clear. He realized that if he continued to stare down at their laps it would be painfully obvious to anyone who glanced in their direction what they were up to. So he leaned over and kissed Shanna’s cheek, nuzzling her red hair out of the way to murmur into her ear.

“I’m going to try and act natural.” Then, remembering what had happened to him back in London when he’d ended up with cum-filled boxer shorts, he added, “Can you, uh, catch it in a tissue?”

Grinning, Shanna revealed the flimsy white material in her other hand. It appeared she’d already thought of that. Saucy wench—he liked her. She was a fun girl, gorgeous-looking and a great lay. Had things been different, he might have considered pursuing something long-term with her, but it wasn’t going to happen. He and Kristian had this one chance, this few months to live life to the fullest, do what they wanted, do who they wanted, go where they liked, and he wasn’t going to throw it away for a green-eyed, cute-accented chick. No way.

He wasn’t worried about upsetting her, though. He knew that she and her friend had a similar pact and outlook on their European travels. They too were hooking up, having a good time and moving on.

Ryan grinned out of the window. Life was good. A sexy girl was about to get his cock out on a coach and toss him off, and he was heading to the third destination on his gap year adventure. The Italian capital awaited and he couldn’t wait to see what it had in store.

Before he got there, though, he was going to have another orgasm on public transport. First the toilets on the Eurostar, now beneath a jacket on a coach. God, what was it with women and doing it in cramped, risky places? And Blanche—the French bird on the Eurostar—and Shanna weren’t the only ones he was thinking of. He was beginning to forget what it was like to have sex in a bed. Not that he was complaining—Christ, no. If a sexy woman propositioned him, who was he to refuse?

By now Shanna had undone his belt, button and fly and released his cock from his boxers. It had taken a while as she’d had to keep her movements slow, subtle, so no one realized what was happening. As a result of all the fumbling, his dick was rock hard by the time she got it out, and it sprung eagerly into her hand.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and he slipped his arm around her, pulling her close. Anyone who looked now would just see a couple of young people having a cuddle. Or possibly a hot redhead sleeping on the shoulder of a young man who could either be her boyfriend or a total stranger.

Carefully, she began to stroke him, getting into a rhythm that would drive him to climax without anyone knowing.

Ryan turned back to the window, giving the appearance of looking out at the darkening sky. Shanna’s grip tightened, her movements grew faster and he grew closer to coming. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip in an attempt to regain some kind of control. It didn’t help—his hormones raged and the familiar tingle at the base of his spine was a dead giveaway.

Looking as chilled out, as casual as possible, he turned to Shanna and whispered, “You’d better get that tissue ready—otherwise I’m going to make an awful mess.”

She gave a single nod of understanding and moved her other hand beneath the jacket, slowly, languidly. It probably looked as though she was just changing position, rather than anything naughtier. Ryan, however, was at the stage where he didn’t care. If anyone happened to look across, happened to confront them, he’d hold a hand up to keep them quiet until he finished.

About Lucy:

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, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9



Ellen March Gets Asked THE Question

Ellen MarshWhy is it when you mention you write erotic romance that a certain light flares? It’s as if because you write about sexual tensions and situations you actually experience it on a daily basis.

I wish.

The interest I notice appears to be exclusively from males. Women simply give me that knowing, yeah I fake that as well look.

A few of my stories have some extreme elements about killers and stalkers incorporated in the plot. Yet nothing is mentioned about them.  Not one question about how I delve inside the mind of a deranged madman. Where do I research drowning, broken ribs, bullet wounds? Nothing on that. Nope, instead the usual query arises.

Invariably, where I’ve gained my sexual knowledge from. Is it from personal experience? And mention research to a guy and you’ve got an instant offer of assistance. Not quite one my husband would agree with LOL. But I won’t give you my answer. Wicked I know.

Hell if I tried to do and get up to half of my heroines activities I’d be in traction.

So I would like to know why this genre is expected to be lived. Yet realize I’ll never have the answer. Or if I do, think it’s going to be of a naughty but interesting reply.

Excerpt from Promises:

She’d taken this job for two reasons. One was her love of books, hot erotic romance to be exact, and here she could indulge her craving to the hilt. The second was to escape her nagging mother. Yet even moving hadn’t been enough.

She’d been in Brindley Bay six months and it felt like six years. How could other people lead such varied and exciting lives whilst hers was lived through the pages of a book? Well almost, she thought, taking care moving on up the rungs. An armful of dusty tomes cradled in one arm, her free hand gripped the rail. She wobbled her way precariously to the top and with a studied caution placed the books back into their gaps, evident by the dusty marks left behind.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” warned a deep voice, breaking through the silence and into her thoughts.

“Shit!” she yelled, and turned too fast. With a strangled scream, felt herself falling and landed in a pair of steely arms that held her tight.

“Lucky I was here.” Solomon’s fingers subtly probed her thighs, feeling for her suspenders. They rolled briefly over the slight bumps.

“If you hadn’t snuck up on me I wouldn’t have fallen,” she snapped, realizing he still held her. “You can put me down now.” She couldn’t help noticing how his muscles flexed. The glorious masculine scent rolled over her, twisting lusty thoughts.

He dropped her with infinite slowness to the ground, still keeping an arm around her waist. Pulling her close, he dipped his head and the tip of his tongue tracked a path along the contours of her lips, retracing every route he’d travelled.

Alex relished his taste, fresh and so sweetly intoxicating. She sucked in a breath, then exhaled a soft, ragged wisp of a sigh. Her hand stole up with the fevered intensity of a Christmas shopper. Urgent fingers rubbed the base of his neck in a sexy circling dance of wanton need. Shivers splintered down her spine and she could feel him growing hard. She craved him with a power that was burning out of control.

“Hello,” shouted a disembodied voice. “Alex, where the heck are you?” The words broke the spell.

Solomon’s gaze sparked down at her, his eyes dark with passion. “I’ll see you later. I think we’ve got some unfinished business.” The words swept out in a hush, his voice full of unspoken promises.

Alex couldn’t speak. She struggled to nod her head, trying to calm her body’s traitorous reaction to him. She wished she could remain detached, then realized she could. It was her fanny that was causing the problem, experiencing a dull throbbing ache that wasn’t going away. Her kickers were already damp.

Tania stood by the desk and her eyebrows rose when she saw the tall, dark-haired man. It had to be Solomon. Instantly she patted at her hair, pulled out her compact and, with a brief glance in the mirror, glossed her lips. She adjusted her top, tugging it down so her boob job and cleavage showed. Then she smoothed her short skirt, skimming it so it fell just beneath her rounded ass.

Tania homed in on him, watching him leave. His slim hips rolled in a loose, easy sexy-assed action. Her eyes steamed hot on his tight butt, the pale denim of his jeans straining across muscled legs. Then she turned her attention to Alex who looked as if she’d just been fucked senseless.

“That’s Solomon,” Alex breathed, wearing a silly grin on her face and a creased frown on her forehead.

“I guessed that, but what I want to know is what did he do to you?” Tania’s eyes narrowed with a shard of pure jealously. She nibbled on her lip, her gaze still locked on the stud of a man walking away.

“He caught me when I fell off the ladder. And Tan, if you hadn’t come in, I honestly think I’d be having it off with him between Sense and Sensibility and The Bridges of Madison County!” She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know what it is about that man, but he’s only got to touch me and I’m like liquid gold.”

“After what I saw I’m not surprised,” agreed Tania, sucking in a sigh of jealous frustration.

Buy Promise Here:







Find Ellen Here:

twitter: https://twitter.com/Ms_ellen_march

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ellenmarchauthor

website: http://ellenmarch.jimdo.com/




Kelly Lawrence on Writing About Sex for Teens

Kelly Lawrence Unconditional

There has been a lot of talk in the publishing and literary world this year about the emerging ‘New Adult’ genre, particularly those stories focusing on romance and relationships, which thanks to their increased heat levels have been dubbed ‘teen steamies’. It’s a great opportunity for writers of erotic romance to reach a wider market. But just how steamy can they be? As erotica authors, we have to ask ourselves how much responsibility we have towards providing suitable content for possibly underage readers, and how we balance this with writing commercially readable stories – after all, sex sells.

‘New Adult’ stories feature and are aimed at young women in their late teens to mid-twenties. The title ‘teen steamie’ is then something of a misnomer. Of course the average nineteen to twenty year old is probably having a fulfilling sex life, so why shouldn’t she be entitled to read about it? But just as women from their twenties to their eighties enjoy stories aimed at much younger women, so most teenage readers will read above their age group; one of the recent works reported to have contributed to the rise of the steamie is in fact the infamous ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ which is most certainly aimed at fully grown adults; this hasn’t stopped schoolgirls reading it in giggling groups on the buses! Which brings me back to my first question; how steamy should they be?

Predictably the very mention of ‘teenage’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence gives rise to outraged parents and political tub thumping. Teenage sex is bad, is the general consensus. Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to stop them indulging in it, if the rates of teenage pregnancies in the UK and US, both major markets for NA fiction, are anything to go by. For authors to ignore this seems to me both unrealistic and even irresponsible. Do you remember being sixteen?

As with all and any possibly controversial subject matter, the important thing is surely how it is handled. In my first YA (New Adult? crossover?) romance, ‘Unconditional’ I have tried to find a balance between writing a realistic and dramatic love story and handling the more erotic scenes sensitively. The main character, Ashley, is about to go to university and is still a virgin, in direct contrast to her friends, one of whom is a teenage mother. When she meets self-confessed ‘bad boy’ Joe he is the catalyst for her sexual awakening. Although I would categorise the sex scenes as ‘sweet’ rather than ‘steamy’ others may disagree. As much as the heroine makes – I think – empowered choices during the course of the novel and I have tried to address the issues facing young women in this situation (contraception for example, and that utterly modern phenomenon, sexting) I was ultimately aiming to write a good, sexy story, not a moral fable.

And on that note…here’s a sneak peek at Ashley’s first experience of getting hot and heavy with the delectable Joe…

Extract from Unconditional

What starts as a tender moment quickly turns into a full on passionate kiss, with my butt pressed up against the edge of the table and his hand coiled in my hair, tugging on the back of my head gently. I explore his mouth with my tongue, the warm taste of him and the feel of his arms round me and the smell of oil and aftershave and sweat all combining to make my head spin. I’m lost. I’m so caught up in sensation that I scoot back on the table slightly and open my legs to pull him in between them, my feet hooking around the back of his calves. We’re pressed together so tightly I can feel the heat of his body through his trousers and my jeans. I want to take his clothes off. I want him to take my clothes off.

I arch into him, giving an involuntary whimper when his hand slips up my top and runs lightly over my bra. I don’t freeze or try to stop him this time; I want him to touch me. He cups one breast in his hand and rolls my nipple gently between his fingers. I gasp at the sudden intense pleasure of it and kiss him harder, my tongue diving into his mouth. When he pulls away I think he’s going to stop and disappointment zings through me until I realise he’s lowering his head to my chest.

Published by Lodestone Books

Buy Unconditional Here:

eBook — Amazon.co.uk

Print —  Amazon.co.uk

eBook — Amazon.com

Print — Amazon.com


Kelly LawrenceUnconditionalRei Bennett Photography - Kelly 10About Kelly Lawrence

Kelly has been writing since she was able to pick up a pen and wrote her first novel, an historical romance about Anne Boleyn, at the tender age of twelve; it consists of 200 notebook pages tied together with string and still takes pride of place in her grandmothers’ display cabinet. She was married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-one, and graduated with first class honours from Warwick University in the meantime. After seven years as a literacy teacher she now writes full time. ‘Wicked Games’ is her first book, a true-life erotic memoir that she hopes will scandalise the locals in the beautiful village she now lives in, in the heart of the Derbyshire Dales. She lives with her wonderful and long-suffering partner and has recently become a practicing Buddhist.

Find Kelly Lawrence Here



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