Special Smut by the Sea offer for Valentine’s Day and beyond!

It’s recently been Valentine’s day and we all looked for something special to give to our loved ones. Sometimes though Valentine’s gifts last for no time at all, flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten, champagne drank. How about treating your other half to a great day out by the sea with extra added smutty fun?

Well, we’re offering Smut by the Sea tickets for £7.50 from now until  25st February 2013. This is a 25% off the usual price. This ticket will get you in to the Smut by the Sea Book launch with free nibbles and a glass of something bubbly plus readings that will get you in the mood for some seaside good loving.

Smut by the Sea takes place on the 22nd June at Scarborough Library. The event runs all day with readings and an erotic marketplace during the day (10am-4pm), featuring top authors like KD Grace, Janine Ashbless, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Slave Nano and Ruby Kiddell.  And then the evening will showcase Smut by the Sea volumes 1&2 between 6-9 pm.

Pick up tickets for your beloved today and give a gift that will keep on giving! For more details check http://smutbythesea.co.uk and buy your tickets here http://smutbythesea.eventbrite.co.uk/

 

 

The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell (Modern Erotic Classics)

The Flesh EnduresIf his beauty was of the Devil, and this an enchantment, she did not care. . .

Lord Karolan Rakka is no stranger to death: sensual, mysterious and endowed with an arcane knowledge of alchemy, he has achieved immortality. Deeply lonely and tormented by the Fetch – the dark and wanton spirit who feasts on his fleshly desires – Karolan endeavours to resist the brief solace of sexual pleasure . . . Instead he longs for a kindred soul. And when he finds her in the ravishing form of Garnetta – a young woman, both innocent and lost – Karolan wastes no time in making her his own. But when Garnetta discovers the shocking truth about their overwhelming bond of desire, she flees Lord Rakka – and finds herself in mortal peril. Only Karolan can save her. Will he make a leap of faith for the woman he has grown to love . . . before time runs out? The Flesh Endures is a breathless tale of faith and love, and the bonds of desire from which there is no escape.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Nook UK

Excerpt:

It was gloomy inside the low room, the air thick with the oily smoke from rush tapers. The lavender and sweet woodruff that strewed the beaten earth floor had long since wilted and failed to mask the smells of stale sweat and unwashed clothes.

At the back of the room, in an area of deepest shadow, Lord Karolan Rakka lay on a pile of tawdry cushions. He watched his companion caressing the two young women, his perceptions blurred by the poppy drug coursing through his veins. The three naked bodies were shiny with sweat and the smells of sex and exertion clotted his nostrils. He wondered, for a moment, why he had stayed. There had been no reason to linger after Jack had given him the things he required, but he had felt a desire for human company. And so he had poured a measure of the opiate into a tankard of ale and settled back to watch Jack indulge his sexual appetites.

For a while the two women worked on his companion, taking it in turns to kiss Jack’s mouth and caress his body. Then they put on a show for the two men, moaning loudly as they kissed each other, rubbing their breasts together until the nipples stood out like ripe cherries.

Inflamed by the display, Jack reached for Isabeau, preferring her rich womanly curves to Adeliz’s more girlish form.

‘Come and join us, why don’t you?’ Jack mumbled, surfacing from between Isabeau’s spread legs and wiping her moisture from his chin. There’s enough here for two. You don’t mind sharing your honey pot, do you my pretty?’

*****

Author Bio:

Cleo Cordell is the author of nine erotic novels, a number of short stories and a forthcoming anthology. The bestselling Captive Flesh, published in 1993, was followed by Senses Bejewelled and Velvet Claws, and Cleo was established as ‘the new queen of suburban erotica’ in Today and ‘queen of the undieworld’ in the Woman’s Journal. Her subsequent titles, Juliet Rising, Path of the Tiger, Crimson Buccaneer and Opal Darkness, confirmed her position as first lady of historical-fantasy erotica.

Writing as Susan Swann, Cleo’s alter ego explored contemporary erotica in The Discipline of Pearls and The Ritual of Pearls.

Cleo began working for Northamptonshire Libraries at the age of sixteen. This gave her ample opportunity to explore the world of dark fantasy fiction, her first love. When not reading or researching, she enjoys the cinema, her cats, wildlife and cooking gourmet vegetarian food. At present she is working on the sequel to The Flesh Endures, continuing the fortunes of the enigmatic alchemist Lord Karolan Rakka.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

  • The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
  • Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
  • The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
  • Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
  • The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
  • The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
  • Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
  • The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
  • Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
  • The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
  • Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
  • 3 by Julie Hilden
  • Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
  • Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
  • Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
  • The Agency by David Meltzer
  • Burn by Michael Perkins
  • Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
  • Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
  • Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
  • Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Lily Harlem Cofesses All About Her Naughty Night Nurse

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I’m very pleased to welcome my launch mate, Lily Harlem, to A Hopeful Romantic today. We had the pleasure of launching our petite novels for Mischief Books on the same day. Naughty Night Nurse and Kinky Boots are mates in naughtiness, so to speak, and I’m very happy to be in such exquisite company. Welcome Lily, do tell!

Thank you so much for inviting me and my naughty nurse over to play today, KD, so very kind of you, though be warned, she’s a bit of a handful as you can tell by that jaunty jut of her hip and the way her uniform is just a little bit too tight!

I’ve always had a nurse story bubbling away at the back of my mind. I trained as a nurse when I was 18 and then worked in London for many years. The hours were long and hard, the work certainly stressful, but it was also incredibly rewarding. Helping patients was part of the job and I thrived on the adrenaline-inducing department I specialized in – Accident and Emergency. This was my home, be it during the day or on the night shift. One of the things I adored most was the sense of teamwork between doctors, nurses, the porters, lab staff, radiographers and domestic workers (cleaners and kitchen staff). If everyone didn’t get on, communicate, work hard, then the place just couldn’t run. It was very rare to find a lazy staff member; that type of personality just didn’t survive! It was a case of working hard, then a bit harder, then if you had time, go play too. Mmm, yep, we played pretty hard if I remember correctly!

The hospital social club was an ancient building, tin roof and drink so cheap I was sure it was subsidized by someone – don’t know who. It was generally full, mostly people in a uniform of some description, or if not in uniform they still had tired faces and were most likely just out of scrubs after being in theatre all day. Mr Harlem and I had many a date at the ‘social’, in fact, I think we probably had our first date there!

During my nursing years I made many friends, most of them are memories now but a few have stood the test of time and without them still in my life there would be a great big hole. It does that to you, working in such an intense environment, you see people for who they are, beneath the layers. Those girlfriends have made up for me not having a sister and we’ve continued to rise and fall together on the crazy crests of life.  I adore them.

I’ve certainly called on hospital experiences and drawn on remembered characters during my last five years of full time writing, but none so much as Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse.

Now don’t think this book is a memoir, it isn’t (OMG, if it was…!) but certainly the main character reminds me of someone I used to know, as do the two main doctors, Javier and Carl, though, of course, their personalities have been embellished considerably.  Some situations in the book are also reflections, and the descriptions of the hospital wards, corridors and Rose Cottage – that the fluffy name given to the morgue – are all exactly how I remember them.

Lily Harlem self publilybanner

I’ve just had a review for Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, and much to my delight it is written by a nurse…

It (Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse) centers around Sharon, a night shift nurse in a hospital somewhere in England. If she lived in the U.S., she’d be called a float pool nurse because she can work almost anywhere in the hospital. You follow her sexscapades over the course of a few days/weeks and see how much trouble she gets into as well as how many people get between her legs. She’s naughty, remember?

This book had the potential for utter ridiculousness. As a nurse, I take my profession pretty seriously and I didn’t know if this book would make nurses look like trollops. It didn’t though. It felt real! The author’s grasp of medical lingo as well as the possible happenings in a hospital all felt right. I swear she mentioned Maslow and I guffawed. It appealed to the nurse and the instructor in me. The sex was good, but not overdone and I enjoyed the characters.

And my gosh, the book actually had a plot and a decent one at that. Plus, I was rooting for her to end up with the sexy doctor. Well done, Lily Harlem. You definitely won me over.

lily harlem night nursemaslowI don’t mind saying that I was pretty damn nervous when the reviewer reached the point were she said the words ‘utter ridiculousness’ and then stated that she was a nurse, but phew, thank goodness she went on to say it ‘felt’ real. That is exactly what I was trying to achieve, an amalgamation of two big parts of my life, my erotic romance writing and my nursing days – this lovely reviewer made me happy dance. Oh, and if you’re wondering what Maslow is, it’s a psychology model used for assessing needs, starting from the very basic, moving up through the need to achieve, be encouraged etc and finally reaching self-actualisation.

I hope if you do read Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, you enjoy Sharon’s naughty escapades. Here is the blurb and a sneaky excerpt taken from the beginning of the book.

Blurb:

When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …

I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.

Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.

Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.

Buy Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse Here:

Amazon US $1.60  – http://www.amazon.com/Confessions-Naughty-Night-Nurse-ebook/dp/B00ALKUMDO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358408815&sr=1-1&keywords=confessions+of+a+naughty+night+nurse

Amazon UK  99p – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Confessions-Naughty-Night-Nurse-ebook/dp/B00ALKUMDO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358409386&sr=1-1

Kobo – http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Confessions-of-Naughty-Night-Nurse/book-cCHlzlkIyU23I5Gh_oCMFA/page1.html?s=cyqUFVT0e0O2NUFOibKLaQ&r=1

Barnes and Noble – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/confessions-of-a-naughty-night-nurse-lily-harlem/1113965701?ean=9780007513024

More buy links available on the Mischief website http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/confessions-naughty-night-nurse/  – and Lily Harlem’s website – http://www.lilyharlem.com

Lily Harlem Confessions of a naughty night nurseimage001(1)Excerpt:

I checked my iPhone again. Another message from Tom.

 You coming?

I typed back quickly.

 Yes, so will you soon!

The porter appeared. He was new, a young guy, wide and stocky with hair so short you could see his scalp through it. He had the word love tattooed over the knuckles on his right hand.

‘You got one for Rose Cottage,’ he grunted, tugging the closed, coffin-style trolley along behind him.

‘Yes, sideward six.’

Luckily Mr Parslow’s skinny body was light, and within a few minutes we were heading out of the ward with him safely ensconced in the metal trolley.

‘Hey, Sharon,’ Tinkard called. ‘You may as well go for your break after you’ve done that, it’s just gone midnight.’

‘Right you are.’

The ward door shut with a heavy click and I put some muscle into pushing the trolley along the deserted corridor. As the pace picked up I stared at the lumpy back of the porter’s head and wondered if he was the one who’d found Javier and Iceberg.

If only I could see into his mind.

I pondered on whether I should question him. Just come straight out and ask if he’d seen the hottest medical senior house officer since Pompeii’s hospital had got showered in ash, shagging the Wicked Witch of the West where the sun doesn’t shine.

I thought better of it. My asking alone could become gossip, and I was keen to avoid gossip that included myself. There were too many skeletons in my cupboard, and, for that matter, in clinical rooms, sluices, linen rooms, and in that handy, unused office at the back of the pharmacy. No, I would keep quiet and do my own investigating.

Stepping out into the night, I was whipped in the face by my hair, the band holding it in a low ponytail no match for the ferocity of the gale. I hunched my shoulders and stooped, trying to shelter my face from the needle-points of rain blasting my cheeks. The sound of the torrent of drips hitting the metal trolley was almost as loud as the wind creaking at the row of oaks leading to Rose Cottage. Their boughs strained and moaned, their leaves hissing in great waves of noise.

The porter sped up behind the back of the canteen and put considerable energy into pulling. By the time we went past the incinerator and turned the final corner, I found myself jogging along the uneven path.

Luckily Tom was waiting with the door to Rose Cottage held open.

We rushed in, the trolley banging over the door-bar and a scurry of leaves whirling around our feet.

‘Fucking hell,’ the porter said. ‘It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there.’

Tom shut the door, winked at me, then took hold of my end of the trolley and wheeled it into the bay of body drawers. I trailed along behind, tucking my wind-wild hair back into its ponytail.

‘Yeah, good job the VIPs in here don’t care about shitty weather,’ Tom said, stopping at twenty-six C and then opening the trolley’s lid to reveal Mr Parslow’s covered body.

‘Bloody hate this part of the job, me,’ the porter said, staring at the shroud-covered lump and shuddering. ‘Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.’

‘You go if you want,’ I said, ‘I’ll help here.’

He widened his eyes and took a step backwards. ‘Really?’

‘Sure, I’ve done it a million times. Doesn’t bother me.’

‘Bloody hell, thanks . . .’ He nibbled on his bottom lip and scanned my coat, as though searching for my name badge.

‘Sharon,’ I said. ‘Go, we’ve got this covered and I bet you’ve lots to do.’

‘Yeah, I have actually.’ He yanked his sleeves over his hands and strode back to the door.

Tom followed and I heard him lock it shut, as was standard procedure at Rose Cottage. The NHS couldn’t risk body snatching, that’s why Tom was employed as night security here.

‘Poor sod,’ Tom said, wandering back in. ‘Looked white as a sheet, didn’t he?’

‘They all do to start with.’

Tom pulled open the drawer and together we slid Mr Parslow onto the metal; his body, although light, was a dense weight. Tom then pushed the drawer shut and closed the door with a resounding slam.

He wrote Mr Parslow’s name on a piece of card and slipped it into a slot beneath.

‘So how long have you got?’ he asked, a naughty smile tugging his lips and his smoky-blue eyes twinkling.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘No time at all. Change of plan, I have to get straight back, sorry.’

‘Ah, Sharon,’ he said, frowning. ‘Why do you go and tease me like that? You know how much I look forward to your visits. They’re the only thing that keeps me going in this lifeless place.’

‘Sorry.’ I glanced down his body. Through his uniform – dark-navy trousers and shirt – Tom’s well-defined muscles could be made out, as could a fantastically long wedge of flesh behind his fly.

My pussy clenched as I remembered last week when I’d paid him a visit. He’d bent me over the desk and rammed himself into me for nearly an hour. It had been so damn hard to walk back onto the orthopaedic ward I’d actually considered nicking a pair of crutches.

I hitched in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep up my pretence for more than another few seconds. Tom’s big dick and his skilful use of it was too damn irresistible. ‘The ward is crazy busy.’

He reached for me but I stepped away. ‘Just a kiss and a quick grope then, to keep me going.’

Quickly I moved even further away, towards the autopsy room. ‘Ha, ha,’ I said gleefully. ‘Just kidding, I’m on my break now.’

He flattened his lips into a tight line, as if holding back a broad smile, though at the same time narrowing his eyes as though furious with me. ‘You little minx,’ he said. ‘You’ll pay for that.’

‘Only if you can catch me.’ I darted into the autopsy room, dark except for a couple of low lights over a set of huge scales. The air was cool and laced with disinfectant.

I glanced around. There was a big, steel surgical table in the centre, a row of cupboards, several filing cabinets and a desk holding an ancient computer monitor.

‘Sharon,’ Tom called, the door shutting behind him with a soft whoosh. ‘You can’t escape.’

‘No, please, no,’ I said with a giggle and ran towards the far side of the room.

He chased but I dodged at the last minute, went to run for the door. He cut me off and I swivelled, found myself barging into the bolted-down table in the middle.

I gasped as the air flew from my lungs, but recovered quickly and, with my hands flat on the cool surface, scooted to the end.

Tom was facing me now, his face strewn with shadows, but I could see the thrill of the chase had flushed his cheeks and caused him to pant.

‘Come here,’ he said, edging closer.

‘No.’ I moved away from him in a circle around the table.

But it was futile; he was tall, fast and strong. Suddenly I was grabbed and tugged to the end, my body pulled up against his.

He pressed his lips down hard on mine and instantly the game was over. Now it was all about carnal satisfaction. With Tom, I was always guaranteed a spectacular orgasm and I couldn’t wait to start riding towards it.

‘Ah, yeah, baby, I’ve got you,’ he said, shoving my coat off and flicking it out of the way. ‘You gonna take it good again? Like you did last week?’

‘Yes,’ I panted, tearing at the buttons on his shirt. ‘Yes, that was so hot, I could hardly bloody walk the next day.’

He chuckled, low, deep and sexy, then kissed me again, the stubble on his chin scraping my skin and his breaths blowing hot and hard on my cheek.

He had my uniform up around my waist now and was forcing me to lie back on the ice-cold table. He stepped between my legs and leaned over me, pressing his groin into the gusset of my knickers.

‘Really, on here?’ I said, slotting my fingers into his hair and drawing my knees up so they pressed either side of his hips. ‘Where they chop up dead people? Isn’t that a bit freaky?’

‘The French for orgasm is petite mort so it’s kind of fitting.’ He was fiddling with the elastic of my underwear, at the juncture of my thighs.

‘Yeah, I suppose, but, oh –’ My words were cut off and turned into a delighted moan. He’d plunged two fingers high up inside me and found my clit with his thumb.

‘Oh, you’re such a dirty nurse,’ he murmured, kissing and licking over my cheek.

About Lily Harlem:

Lily Harlem is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance and lives in the UK with Mr Harlem and a host of rescued pets. Since giving up a career in nursing she loves to spend her days dreaming up naughty stories that have a happy ever afters. When you read her books be warned though, the bedroom door is always left wide open!

Lily Harlem links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Lily-Harlem/100003519563064

Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lily-Harlem-author-page/200182030094568

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

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

 

 

 

 

Burlesque Meets Mythology: Teaming Up with Moorita Encantada

KD: When the lovely Moorita Encantada approached me with the idea that we collaborate on a ‘burlesque play’ based on one of my stories, I was totally intrigued and more than a little bit intimidated. I had seen her perform and was bowled over by the innovative, edgy quirkiness of her burlesque performances. She had heard me read several times and had read some of my work, and the idea of collaborating with her and creating something totally different was very exciting.

Moorita: This project was born out of a beautiful clash of two types of artistic sensitivity – that of a writer, and that of a performer. I love KD’s writing for the way she uses erotica and sexuality as key to understand the magic and mystery of a human being. I have a similar approach to burlesque and cabaret: it’s a sophisticated tool that can be used to uncover deep human truths while being very accessible and simply hugely entertaining!
Moorita EncantadaHaving met through Erotic Meet and hit it off immediately, we spent quite a bit of time discussing what a “burlesque play” could look like and what it should involve. We asked ourselves what were the foundations of burlesque (e.g. musicality and humour), and how we could best use them in the context of a theatrical play. We also felt that the genre was often banalised by critics and unambitious performers alike. We took it on as an exciting challenge to explore the true potential of burlesque as an art form.
KD: Once I got brave enough to actually put words on the page, I pulled together some ideas in a three act format. Since I’ve never written a play before I’m still scrambling to understand such a different style of writing while imagining a story that will lend itself to burlesque and to the stage. One of the first decisions we made before our official meeting was that most of my existing work was too long or not really what we were had in mind for this project, so we chose a mythological theme and let our imaginations run wild. We had dozens of email conversations over the rough draft that was beginning to take shape, with Moorita shooting ideas back at me and sharing pieces of music she thought might work along with ideas about the costuming the motivation of our characters.  At last we felt  we were ready to meet. We had our first serious brainstorming session a week ago Friday in London at Home House, a private club with a very welcoming, very creative atmosphere. In a long evening over lattes and, later, cocktails, our Coctails Flaming Passion 8 Feb2013 1st meetingplan began to take shape.
Moorita: I loved how, without failure, we were constantly winding each other up creatively and coming up with ideas and solutions that were a step or two ahead of the original concept. If all this happened during the very first meeting, I just can’t wait to see what happens next!
Also, we seem to be just on the same page in terms of artistic boldness, which is great. We are equally out of our comfort zones and just loving the ride! Based on experience, best ideas tend to come from people who are good enough at what they do to allow themselves complete freedom to indulge in wacky experiments. If that’s the winning formula, we’ve already won 🙂
KD: My job is to get the story down and make it exciting for the audience. That’s always a writer’s job. But in a novel, I have only words to get that story  from my imagination to the reader’s. Moorita, however, sees my word pictures as performances, as that combination of dance, music, costumes, drama and comedy that give the audience a multi-dimensional experience. What writer wouldn’t want to see her story brought to life on a stage? And when Moorita and I met for the first time, the ideas she brought for what that performance would look like made the way I pictured our story come to life and move in directions I wouldn’t have thought of without that added dimension of performance.
Moorita: Since KD is an amazing writer, I have no doubts that the script itself will be of top quality. She already enriched the story with amazing ideas taken from her literary practice, experience and education. I just can’t imagine putting this together without her wisdom, vision and passion for the written word.
My challenge will be to make this workable in the context of the stage, with all its limits and opportunities. Obviously, people involved in this project as performers and their individual skills will be crucial, which is why selecting the right cast is one of the most important points on my agenda. Next, we need to put all sorts of things in place – hopefully with help of an experienced theatre director – to pull this very ambitious project off the ground logistically.

KD: Moorita, I have to say at the moment, I’m most looking forward to getting a solid story written and ready to stage. It’s all there in my head, and thanks to our brainstorming session, the vision is so much clearer and more exciting. I can’t wait till our next meeting.

What are you most looking forward to in the process?

1st planning meeting Home HouseMoorita: The launch of the play itself and the way it will open up other, unexplored avenues for cabaret and burlesque. I can visualise the opening night, filled with curiosity and expectation.. I know it will give me a tremendous satisfaction and will be the beginning of possibly the most interesting period of my artistic development
Next challenges are finalising the script, casting the right performers and finding a fabulous venue to host us. The main objective is to produce something that will be innovative and original while being accessible for a wide audience, and very professionally executed. It’s great that just by spreading the word amongst our friends, we are already receiving plenty of support and collaboration offers from artists of different kinds. These partnerships will be important going forward and have to be thought through carefully. We would like for this project to give many talented people an opportunity to showcase their work and benefit from exposure it will give them.
KD: Moorita and I decided that as we work to create our burlesque play we’ll document our creative process on A Hopeful Romantic.  Also because it’s a joint effort and something new, we thought it would be fun to keep it an open experience to share with friends and readers. Journeys are always more fun shared. As for our project, we’ll be giving more details as the process unfolds. But for now I’ll just say we’re taking a story from mythology, bringing it forward in time and twisting and turning it until you won’t believe what you’re seeing … or hearing.

Holly Crosses the Pond Bigtime with Sourcebooks!

My firstborn, The Initiation of Ms Holly, has had a wild couple of years in her young life. She’s found her way into the national newspapers, she’s made it onto national television and radio, she’s made it to number one on the Amazon UK paid erotica chart and on the free chart, and she’s in her third printing with Xcite books. Holly has even made her way into public libraries all across the UK!

Holly has done the Coast to Coast walk across England with Raymond and me in a zip lock bag. (We couldn’t find any waterproofs in her size). She’s been to Las Vegas where she was read from at the famous Flamingo hotel. She’s been on the bookshelves in WH Smith stores in airports, train stations and along the motorways. That girl is well travelled! And she’s about to get more so!

Sourcebooks image

I’m very happy to announce that Xcite Books have sold the US and Canadian rights for The Initiation of Ms Holly to Sourcebooks. Next year there’ll be a new print edition of Holly coming out in the States for US and Canadian distribution, and Holly will become way more well-travelled than her creator. I feel like a proud mum sending my baby out into the big wide world all grown up.

And almost as a sign of good things to come, Holly hit the number one position on Amazon UK’s free chart for erotica in the middle of a week-long Valentine’s promotion. She does well, my first born, and the best is yet to come. Who me? Proud??? You betcha!

Holly number one UK 15 Feb 2013

Blurb:

Journalist, Rita Holly, never dreamed sex with the mysterious Edward in the dark of a malfunctioning train would lead to a blindfolded, champagne-drenched tango, a spanking by a butch waitress, and an offer of initiation into the exclusive mysteries of The Mount. Desperate to save her threatened job, she agrees, scheming secretly to write an inside exposé on the club that will make her career. But as she delves deeper into the intrigue of The Mount and the lives of its members, she soon discovers that her heart may have other plans.

Excerpt

He practically fell on top of Rita, his hand grazing her left breast in the complete darkness. She yelped and grabbed him to keep from losing her balance.

‘God, I’m sorry!’ He gasped. ‘Bloody nuisance, this, isn’t it?’ His voice was warm, melodious, by far the most pleasant thing that had happened to Rita since she left Paris. ‘Oh dear. You’re trembling. Are you all right?’

‘I’m claustrophobic’ her words were thin and shaky, as though she didn’t fully trust herself to let them out. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t know where we are.’ For an embarrassing moment, she realized she was still clinging to him, but the embarrassment passed, and suddenly she didn’t care. If they were going to die trapped in a train in the Eurostar tunnel, buried beneath a gazillion gallons of water, she’d just as soon not do it alone.

He either understood, or was too polite to leave her in such distress. He wrapped his arms around her engulfing her in a muscular embrace, the scent of which was maleness barely masked by deodorant and some spicy cologne, both fading at the end of a day much longer than either of them had anticipated. ‘Don’t worry.’ In the darkness, he misjudged the distance between them and his lips brushed her earlobe. ‘It’s just an electrical malfunction. Anyway we’re better off down here than in the snowstorm up above. Sounds like all of London is shut down. Who’d have expected snow this late in the spring? Never mind that, where else do you get the chance to cuddle strangers in the dark?’