Guest Blogger: Elizabeth Cage

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WMS_blogtourDo you get turned on when you write? by Elizabeth Cage

This is a question I have been asked before, both at writing events and by friends and colleagues.  Is writing erotica in itself an erotic act?  Or just a job?  I confess that my answer depends on what mood I’m in.  And how naughty I’m feeling at the time.

When I was working on my first ever collection of spanking BDSM stories (Kissing Velvet) I admit that, when feeling “written out” but dangerously close to my delivery deadline for the publisher, I took short breaks between computer sessions (my pc was in a cupboard in my bedroom – a great workplace) to lie on the bed, where I’d fantasise and masturbate to re-ignite me.  It worked. (I hope!).  And one of the highest compliments I was once paid by a reviewer was when she said reading my stories got her using her vibrator.  Praise indeed!

I have used some of my own sexual adventures as inspiration, and reliving them can be a turn-on. In such situations, I will sometimes break away from writing and play.  Of course, if I did this too often I would never get any work done….

Having illicit sex in a situation where you might get caught or discovered is erotic for lots of people, and for some reason, I’ve always had a thing about being naughty in a kitchen.  So I hope you enjoy this extract, where frustrated Shannon finds out that dinner parties can be more fun than she imagined. Best get back to my desk now….

Extract from Second Helpings

 

‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ I protested, making a half-hearted effort to push him away.

‘Why not?’ he replied, his hands sliding down, caressing my bum, while his mouth found my neck, giving me an exquisite little nip behind my ear. ‘I’ve wanted to do this all evening.’

‘Me too,’ I groaned, grabbing his neck and kissing him roughly, our tongues exploring. Wrapping my arms around him, I pushed my breasts against his broad chest, my nipples already hard. As he rolled my tight dress up to my waist, slowly unsheathing me, I thought, ‘What if someone comes in?  What if Jay sees us?’ but it didn’t stop me. In fact, it made me feel even more turned on. I just wanted to eat him alive.

I was aware of music playing in the lounge, through the half open door, a passionate and energetic rock ballad, as Mr Elliot’s fingers carefully pulled my lacy black thong to one side, parting my moist pussy lips. I was vaguely aware too of raised voices, as Jay and his mother engaged in lively conversation. My host slipped two fingers inside me, groaning at the wetness they found while he lifted me onto the kitchen worktop. With his other hand, he quickly unzipped his trousers to reveal a rigid cock, impatient for action. I took it greedily in my mouth, sucking enthusiastically, deep throating him until, moaning softly, he suddenly pushed my head away and produced a shiny wrapper from his pocket. I was both shocked and amused at this, wondering if he was always so well-prepared – or had he planned this? I didn’t care though. I needed to be fucked. And hard. And now.

Second HelpingsBook blurb for Second Helpings

Surely everyone deserves a second chance? Three sexy stories. Quirky, romantic erotica with a twist. 

Words and Actions
Alys’s drunken one night stand with an ex-boyfriend puts her relationship with her beloved partner Lee in jeopardy, leaving her desperate to put things right. On the way to a party, their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere on a dark and stormy night and Lee’s unexpected behaviour is both surprising and arousing….

Two Hearts
Lucy knows deep down that her passionate affair with married businessman Callum is going nowhere, but when he suggests an erotic encounter in a graveyard, what happens next leads Lucy to a sexy stranger who may be the one to find her heart.

Second Helpings
Shannon and Jay’s sex life has taken a nose dive so Shannon decides it’s time to spice things up. But an invitation to dinner with Jay’s sophisticated parents leads to an evening full of raunchy surprises – and a life changing decision.

More information/buy link: Available as an e-book from Amazon UK and US

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Second-Helpings-ebook/dp/B00957XYD4/

http://www.amazon.com/Second-Helpings-ebook/dp/B00957XYD4/

Also available from: Amazon.de, Amazon.es, Amazon.fr, Amazon.co.jp, Amazon.it,  Amazon.com.br, and Amazon.ca

Elizabeth CageAbout the author:

A published writer since her early teens, Elizabeth Cage has been writing erotica since 1999. Her stories, poems and articles have appeared in numerous magazines including Scarlet, Desire, Forum, For Women, In the Buff, The Hotspot, and the International Journal of Erotica, as well as The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica 2010 (Cleis) and her fiction regularly appears in the sizzling anthologies and e-books from Xcite. Her BDSM collection, Kissing Velvet, was published in 2003 by Chimera, and her e-book collections Love Bites and Crimson Kisses are also available from Amazon.

She enjoys doing guest blogs, author talks, interviews, events and workshops and performs regularly in the successful show Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells reading her erotica and helping with the raffle!

Author blog – http://www.elizabeth-cage.blogspot.co.uk/

Website –  http://www.elizabethcage.com/

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.cage.1

Amazon author page

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Elizabeth-Cage/e/B0034NLCN4/

http://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Cage/e/B0034NLCN4/

Dark Matter by Michael Perkins

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Dark MatterLightening, meet Thunder…
San Francisco is a place of pure excess and liberation, where every flavour of sexuality is there for the tasting. Robin wants to be part of it, and by embracing extreme erotic experiences to escape her father’s hypocrisy. Buddy is a rebel, a wild spirit. The moment they meet, sparks fly in a frenzy of desire unbound and darkness unleashed; and when Robin asks Buddy to kill her father, he knows he has found his destiny.

Dark Matter is a hypnotic tale of erotic cravings.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com

*****

Excerpt:

The Spiral Dance

Gods, from your rocky home in the highest snow-capped Sierras of the imagination, swoop down now on San Francisco, the City of Perpetual Indulgence.

Blot out all other sounds from your hearing and attend to the dark passage of one in your indifferent keeping — one touched by you, and like you,possessed….

Yet another turn of the wheel, another rotation of the earth: darkness is cast like a spell. A night without fog.

Straddling her snorting, fire-breathing Harley, Robin Flood roars up the steep undulating streets that slant to the sky and then down them to the Bay. She cuts a loud eructative path through the Marina and rumbles into stern Fort Mason, a former military facility converted into a cultural centre with shops, museums and a famous restaurant.

A bleached full moon leers down at her, one roguish lunar eyebrow cocked; clouds of galaxies extend from it into forever. The dark matter that makes up the unseen universe holds the stars apart. The Gods pay casual attention.

It is the beginning of November, final year of the century, on the night of the Spiral Dance — a Saturday night that falls on Samhain, when the dead pierce the veil that hangs between breathing and not, children who will never die (at least not in the twentieth, accursed century) eat sugar skulls, and a thousand boisterous pagans gather to celebrate the disappeared.

Robin joins the crowd cloaked in the exclusionary circle she draws around herself with strangers. She does not know anyone in the laughing, gesticulating, highspirited gathering of animals with horns, birds of prey, devils of all designs, medieval jongleurs, Green Men, maenads and vampires. Here, New Agers rub shoulders with Dark Agers. Here, imagination expresses the divine with profligate abandon.

Robin regrets momentarily that she has not worn a costume, but her eyes attract more attention than a mask would: they are an unfathomable cerulean, like the sea. Her glance when unguarded can be frightening in what it reveals of the cold wildness inside. Her features are small and finely chiselled, her mouth wide and lush. Her hair is cropped like glossy black feathers. One seashell ear is studded with five expensive earrings, the kind ear-nibblers cut their lips on. She’s prettier than the Queen of Heaven tonight, but there is something indistinct, unformed, indefinable but dangerous about her, as if she might be willing to do anything.

Hidden behind their masks, people stare at her. Aware of the impression she makes, she tucks her ambient rage in a pocket of her black motorcycle jacket and grins like an ingenue on crack. She waits patiently in the line, examining everyone for signs of the roles they might play in the drama of her life. She has a hunger to find out who she is, and she can only learn this from others; she is unknown to herself. Tonight her whim is that she is a temple prostitute come to worship the Goddess, weep for her dead, and party down with the pagans. Her fantasies are usually realised.

The motley line snakes around the pier to Herbst Pavilion, a giant former troop embarkation shed surrounded by choppy Bay waters. The huge space is sombre and magnificent, a maritime cathedral filled with the anxious ghosts of the hundreds of thousands of apprehensive young men who passed through the building on their way to war, and the unhappy spirits of those who never sailed home. It is an appropriate place to celebrate Halloween.

*****

About the Author:

MICHAEL PERKINS is the author of six collections of poetry. The Secret Record, literary criticism, was published by William Morrow in 1976. The Good Parts, selected book reviews, appeared in 1994. Among his other works of fiction and non-fiction are the novels Evil Companions, Dark Matter and Burn. His poems and essays have apeared in The Village Voice, Younger Critics of North America, The Nation,Mother Jones, Paper, Notre Dame Review, Exquisite Corpse, Big Bridge, Talisman, Rain Taxi andAmerican Book Review. He was the Leydig Trust’s Writer of the Year in Great Britain in 2002, the recipient of the 2007 Obelisk Award for Lifetime Achievement and the 1957 Dunbar Poetry Prize. Carpe Diem, New and Selected Poems, appeared in 2011.

*****

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

Finessing Sex at Eroticon 2013

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This time next month I’ll be enjoying Eroticon 2013. I’ll be partaking of the feast of workshops on blogging, writing, publishing, photography, art,  sex education, and more. I’ll be taking advantage of opportunities for networking and meeting new people. I’ll be enjoying and participating in readings by erotica authors. I’ll be getting to know in person people I’ve chatted with online. And just like last year, no doubt, there’ll be lots of dreaming and scheming and just flat-out fun. I’m looking forward to seeing more than a few of you there.

I have to admit my knees get a little shaky and I get butterflies in my stomach when I think about Eroticon 2013 because this year, there’s a delicious list of creative writing workshops offered over the two-day period. There’ll be workshops taught by some of my heroes in the erotica writing world – Kristina Lloyd, Remittance Girl, Vena Ramphal, and Ashley Lister. I’m very much looking forward to the opportunity to learn from the best.

So why the butterflies and nerves? Well, because this year I’ve been asked to teach one of the five creative writing workshops at Eroticon! It’s a first for me. I’ve never actually taught a writing workshop before, and I’m very excited to have been asked. And to be asked to do so in such excellent and exalted company is definitely an honour.

Everyone who knows me and reads my books or my blog (hopefully both) knows that the only time I’m not talking or thinking about writing is writing image 2when I’m sleeping, and then I’m often dreaming about it. Yup, I’m a bit obsessive, and to say I’m enthusiastic about it would be an understatement. I hope to bring some of that enthusiasm for sexy stories into my workshop.

My workshop is called Finessing Sex and, while it’s aimed at giving newbies a foot-up in writing and selling erotica, I like to think that everyone can benefit from another peek at the basics — I know I always do. So there’ll be a little something for everyone.

Finessing sex will take writers beyond the slang of the old ‘in and out’ and beyond the biology of coitus to the other levels within the story and the characters where sex takes place. I hope it will show how well-written sex shapes the story and the characters. The session will involve some writing, some brainstorming and hopefully a whole lot of fun.

I also hope to talk a little about how to best make sure one’s story gets and holds the attention of an editor and how to deal with the inevitable rejections that litter the route to those first sales.

For me, writing has always been about fun. I can’t remember a time when it hasn’t been one of the best parts of my life. But finessing that writing, finessing the sex and the story that goes with it is where the real fun begins, and I hope to share the fun on Sunday March 3rd at 2:15 pm.

Eroticon speaker badge pinkPlease join me for  Eroticon 2013!

Get your tickets here:

Eroticon 2013:

Date and Venue:

Saturday 2nd & Sunday 3rd March 2013 which will be held at the Coin Street Conference Centre, 108 Stamford Street, SE1 9NH

 

 

3 by Julie Hilden

Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releases, , , , , , , , ,

What’s the greatest sacrifice you would make for love?

Julie Hilden 3 by Julie HildenMaya and Ilan have an unusual marriage: Maya will tolerate Ilan’s chronic infidelity as long as he includes her in the affairs. Initially, Maya finds these unorthodox threesomes as arousing as they are disturbing – but when her writing career takes off and she becomes more independent, Ilan feels threatened, and opts for sexual experimentation of another kind: one that plays on Maya’s fear and ultimately threatens her life.

Meanwhile, Maya is drawn into a relationship with a fateful third character. When her new liaison begins to mirror her marriage to Ilan, Maya discovers that her lover, seemingly a stranger, knows far more about her past than she has revealed.

Brave, daring and deeply erotic: 3 is a compelling chronicle of obsession and power.

‘Julie Hilden does what few writers can dare to. 3 is smart, sexy, strange and impossible to put down.’ Dani Shapiro

Available from:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B009EP83AQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B009EP83AQ&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21

http://www.amazon.com/3-Modern-Erotic-Classics-ebook/dp/B009EP83AQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1359631432&sr=1-1&keywords=julie+hilden

*****

Excerpt:

It is the first Saturday in August when I walk up to the porch of the summerhouse and see them. I am supposed to be in the city this weekend but my interview is canceled, the actor called out of town. I see them through the fan propped in the window, through the transparent blur of its blades.

She is moving on top of him slowly, with such concentration that though she faces the window, though she could look right at me, she does not. I am only a few feet away from her. I have never seen her before.

I watch her glossy brown hair shift on her shoulders, I watch her empty eyes as she moves on him with calculation, with slack lips, with nipples so erect that the areolae wrinkle around them – as she moves with such pleasure, really, that who could hate her in this moment?

To love her, to want to be her, to want to touch her, yes. But not to hate her, not in this.

I watch her, and watch, too, a sliver of Ilan’s narrow chest beneath her, its pattern of hair that breaks across his sternum. I can see the necklace sliding on his chest as they move, the tiny silver hand slipping back and forth, its touch faster and jerkier than Ilan’s own smooth caresses – than the touch of his hand moving on her downy back.

For perhaps five minutes, I don’t say a word. It seems a weird privilege: here is the life I don’t see, the life that goes on without me. I watch them as a ghost watches the living.

Then I say his name slowly, just audibly. She starts and looks around wildly. When she looks through the fan and sees me, she gasps.

Ilan does not start at all; not a flicker. But he lifts his head, sees me, and winces, and just like that he lifts her off him and at the same time off the bed.

‘You have to go now,’ he tells her.

She dresses insolently slowly. Her blouse fastens in the back with a line of ties – it is really just a square of cloth that settles on her breasts – and she loops each of the ties into a perfect bow.

‘Fuck you,’ she tells Ilan. ‘You fucking liar. I deserve better than you.’ Righteous anger, but controlled.

She and I brush past each other. It’s as if she’s preempted me with her anger; I want to shout at Ilan too, curse at him, but I don’t have the heart. ‘I should leave too,’ is all I say.

‘You can’t leave me, Maya. I love you.’

‘Was this the first time – the only time? I need to know.’

‘It started in college,’ he admits, ‘a few weeks after I met you.’

I shiver. I never expected to be chosen by myself, for myself alone. It had felt wrong – unlike me – to be chosen. Now, hearing this, I feel only a sickening familiarity, not surprise.

‘It never meant anything,’ he assures me. ‘I felt awful about it. I don’t know where it comes from. I thought, with enough therapy, I’d talk myself out of it. But all I do is confess, I don’t change.

Look, can we at least sit down? I feel like any moment, you’re going to leave.’

‘Okay, but I’m not promising to stay.’

I sit down on the rattan couch. He stands behind me. I lean back and reach my head up to him – like a rabbit in a cage straining to sip from its water dispenser, the single round, hanging drop. And he leans down, princelike, to kiss me.

Then he starts to touch me. He slips his hands down my jeans, his fingers splayed, rubbing my clitoris insistently, with the slightest pressure. I moan quietly, move against him.

‘Don’t I know you?’ he says. ‘I know exactly what you want, don’t I?’

It agitates me as he rubs and rubs, softly, softly. He touches me the way he learned from me years ago – the way I touch myself. He studied it. The detail of his knowledge of me devastates. If I were to close my eyes, I could confuse his touch with my own.

But as he nuzzles into my shoulder, I smell sex in his hair and break away from him.

‘Would you at least shower?’ I demand.

‘No, you love that. Tell me you love it.’

In seconds my jeans are gone, my shirt is gone. He holds on to me, won’t let me leave.

‘It’s so soft,’ he says as he touches me. ‘You’re so wet.’

He gets a little bleat out of me as he rubs. Then I clamp my mouth shut. Ah, but then I relax it. I begin to breathe in the sex smell in his hair; I begin almost to like it.

‘Maya. Tell me you want this.’

‘I want it.’

‘I knew you did.’ And I do. And it is hours, then, before we can stop.

About the Author:

Julie Hilden graduated from Harvard, and earned a law degree at Yale and an MA in creative writing from Cornell. After several years of practicing law, she has now turned to writing full time. Her first book, a memoir entitled The Bad Daughter, was published by Algonquin Books, and she has also written for Slate magazine. She lives in New York City.

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

Kyoko Church Shares Sapphic Secrets: Book 2 of the Draper Estates Trilogy

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It’s my pleasure to welcome the deliciously naughty Kyoko Church back to my blog with a little sneak peek at part 2 of The Draper Estates Trilogy, Sapphic Secrets! If you’ve not read part 1, do so without further delay. If you have, then you’ll be as anxious to read what Ms Church has to say as I am! Welcome, Kyoko!

Hi KD!

Thank you so much for having me back to your awesome blog! It’s such a pleasure and you are always so sweet and welcoming.

Today I’m talking about Book Two in my Draper Estates Trilogy, Sapphic Secrets. Last time I was here I told you about what inspired the trilogy here: https://kdgrace.co.uk/guest-bloggers/the-story-behind-the-story-of-kyoko-churchs-novella-nymphomania/ So you know about that. This time I’m going to let you in on the dark secret about this second book. Are you ready? Here it is: I didn’t really want to write it.

The thing is I’m still relatively new to writing novellas. I’ve always written short stories. I’d have a horny inspiration and feel compelled to write it all out. I’d often shut myself away and just write until it was done. Then I’d sigh, have a wank and a smoke and that’d be it. I’m just kidding! I don’t smoke. 🙂

What I’m saying is that short stories come fairly easily to me. Writing a book is something different. It requires more discipline, something I can be a bit short of, to be frank. And this is a trilogy! For me, that is a long time to live with the same characters. They were starting to bug me. I wanted to toss them away and start something new.

I’m shocked that I’m telling you this. Because as a reader, if an author said she had a hard time writing something I would be leery of reading itKyoko Church vol2Sapphic Secrets image. I would worry it would be stilted and awkward, that it wouldn’t be passionate or from the heart.  And that’s how I was afraid this second installment would turn out! But once I finally buckled down and got into it… I liked it again. And I’m so glad! I got my horny writing mojo back and I’m really pleased with how it turned out. But, I should let you be the judge. Here’s an excerpt:

Sapphic Secrets Excerpt:

Lillianne awoke with the now familiar aching throb between her legs.

Oh! It seemed now there was never a moment’s respite.

The air of the master bedroom was cool, almost cold and she hunkered down under the bedclothes and savoured the warmth they held. She was alone. Blessedly alone.

In the soft, warm confines of her bed her hand sought the ache at her centre and cupped it, pressed down on it, tried to assuage it. It felt like that, like a comfort, at first.

Of course, the more she kneaded and pressed it, the more the ache grew, like a fire being slowly stoked. She pressed the covers to her mouth to stifle a groan and rocked herself back and forth in anguish. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Because of Dr Samms she was constantly monitored. Who knew when someone could come in? James. Celeste. Her darling Ewan who’d arisen from their marital bed but ten minutes earlier. But the ache persisted and once she’d started touching she felt powerless to stop.

It felt so good. Ah, god, so good to have pressure there. Her body needed it. Craved it. And it wasn’t really so bad, was it, to just hold herself there? That’s really all it was. But after a few moments more her mind flitted back. To thoughts. Oh, nasty thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking them! Especially not in this way! But they were insidious little things, those perverted thoughts about what her housemaid Celeste had done to her.

Celeste! Not only her housemaid but her confidante. Her best friend. What had the shy little blonde creature been thinking? What could have possessed her? But as the pressure and the pleasure mounted where Lilly held herself between her legs she couldn’t help but remember again how it felt to have Celeste do what she did.

It’s the affliction, Lilly thought. My affliction makes me think these things! It will drive me mad! But once the memories took hold they cemented themselves there. Celeste, shaving Lilly bare between her legs per the doctor’s orders while Lilly’s arms and legs were pinned and powerless, leaving her skin exposed and oh so sensitive. And then. Oh god.

The unthinkable.

Her housemaid put her mouth there.

Her tongue! Right on the burning centre of her need, the pounding pulse of what drove her madness. And the worst part, the absolute worst part was what Lilly scarcely allowed herself to acknowledge. That to have Celeste’s slick tongue licking and licking that tortured bud of flesh was the most exquisite bliss.

Out of her mind with lustful thoughts Lilly parted her legs wantonly, all thoughts of propriety and repercussions gone. In her mind her finger was Celeste’s tongue on her again but this time, oh this time it would finish what it started.

The first touch of her finger on the sensitive tip of her clitoris was like heaven. Lilly gasped out, her starved body grateful, hungry and eager at the sensation of wonderful firm pressure directly on there again, just like Celeste had done with her talented tongue. Giddy now, she slicked her finger up and down fast and hard, feeling the paroxysm build, not slowly like the evil doctor forced her to endure, but quickly like her body wanted. ‘Oh god!’ she cried, as her body bucked beneath her hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t help but imagine her sweet friend’s blonde head between her legs, moving and working, that tongue laving. ‘Yes! Yes! Please! I need it. Please, Celeste. Please!’ Lilly whispered her tortured pleadings into her bedclothes as she frigged herself hard.

Just as her body began to thrash over the edge of the most powerful paroxysm she’d ever endured, the bedroom door opened and then … Celeste was standing there.

 ***

In case you’re wondering, I have none of those same qualms about Book Three. For whatever reason, maybe exactly because I’ve lived with these characters for this long, I am now excited to get to the third installment. Oh, just wait until you find out what’s in store for Lillianne! I am simply bursting to get to it. And … there just may be somebody new who’ll be added to the mix. 😉

I really hope you enjoy it! And I always welcome your feedback. Come by my blog and say hi!

Blurb:

Labelled a nymphomaniac because of her passion, Lillianne Draper is forced to spend her days restrained. She has managed to banish the nefarious Dr Samms only to begin to question the motives of her scullery maid, Celeste. Charged with the task of monitoring her mistress’s illness, Celeste seems to enjoy her new responsibility a little too much.  Lillianne must try and control her body’s responses or her husband will order the return of the doctor who tormented her. But being left every day at the mercy of Celeste is arousing desires in Lilly she didn’t know she had.

Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Sapphic-Secrets-Estates-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00APK7LB6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1356738770&sr=1-1&keywords=sapphic+secrets

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sapphic-Secrets-Estates-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00APK7LB6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356738817&sr=8-1

Kyoko ChurchNymphomania1About Kyoko Church:

Kyoko Church discovered the power of the written erotic word when she was 16 years old and penned a very explicit missive to her boyfriend detailing all the naughty things she wanted to do to him. When he received it, boyfriend was impressed. When he found it, father was not.

For the next 18 years she hid her naughty thoughts in shame. Until she found a community where they were once again appreciated for the well-imagined smut they are. Her short stories have been published in anthologies by Black Lace, Rubicund Publishing and Xcite Books. Book One, Nymphomania, and Book Two, Sapphic Secrets, in her Draper Estate Trilogy were published by Xcite in 2012. For Her Pleasure will be published by HarperCollins Mischief in March 2013.

A Canuck by birth, she has recently made Australia her home. She is currently learning to drive on the left and say G’day convincingly.

Website: kyokochurch.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kyoko.church

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kyokochurch

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kyokochurch/