Out Now! – Shopping for A Billionaire’s Honeymoon (Book 11 in the Shopping series) by Julia Kent

Release date: January 31, 2017

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance

Description:

He is addicted to his phone and his new role as CEO. I’m addicted to getting some on my own honeymoon.

One of these things is not like the other.

I am pretty sure a serial killer’s lair is the only place in the world where I could stash my new husband so he can’t manage the acquisition of our new company.

And that seems a little drastic.

But only a little…

All I want is one week alone with him. Hours in bed, legs tangled together in ecstasy, room service and long walks on the beach in Hawaii.

Not vying for his kisses around a Bluetooth microphone. The Borg aren’t sexy in real life.

So I’m taking matters into my own hands and hitting “reboot” on our honeymoon.

We’re going to a place so remote that no one can find us.

Not even my mother.

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon is now a full-length book of 150+ pages, with both Shannon and Declan’s points of view. Originally published with only Shannon’s viewpoint, this expanded edition is a result of reader feedback. People wanted to know what Declan was up to – so here you go. This book is meant to be read after Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife and/or Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée, but if you read it out of order (or even as a standalone), that’s fine. Shannon and Declan forgive you. 😉

Buy links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2idvTWZ
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2hkjFrh
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/2izYeY4
Amazon Australia: http://amzn.to/2izXJxb
Nook: http://bit.ly/2izRZ6C

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2i1YETg
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hJCZSb
iBooks: http://apple.co/2hKfjdX

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://jkentauthor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

 

Excerpt:

Shannon

Let’s do an inventory of this fine day. My day-after-I-got-married day. In Vegas.

After fleeing my Momzilla mother.

Today is supposed be Day One of my honeymoon after marrying the billionaire of my dreams.

(Let’s not count the night before).

Woke up to the lovely sight of my husband’s tousled dark hair sliding down my torso so he could feast on me for breakfast.

Had actual breakfast in bed after room service delivered mixed berries, cream, bacon, and maple-soaked carrot-cake french toast, and the best damn coffee on the planet from the coffee chain I now own.

Made love with my delightful husband in the giant jetted bathtub in our suite. Turns out I’m as bendy as a Cirque du Soleil performer when I need to be. Maybe Mom’s insistence that I attend all those yoga classes she teaches has a silver lining after all.

Dressed and prepared to hop the corporate jet for Hawaii, kisses interspersed between readying ourselves for the trip. Undressed twice. Dressed twice. Declan insisted I not wear panties for the plane trip.

“But I’m already a member of the Mile High Club,” I’d protested.

“Not as a wife.”

He had a point.

Panties abandoned.

Found his brother, my best friend, a former colleague and an Anterdec chauffeur all married to each other.

Notice something a little different about that last one?

Yeah. Me too.

Day One of my honeymoon had promise, but now? Now it’s a little too real.

We’re on the plane, settling into our seats, and I’m doing my best not to think about my poor best friend and her chaotic mess back at the Anterdec resort where Declan and I just spent nearly a week trying to figure out our entire life.

Which we did, successfully, to my utter surprise. After fleeing our wedding in a helicopter and lying to my Momzilla mother, we managed to get to Las Vegas, ensconced in a resort on the Vegas Strip that Declan had designed himself as an intern in college. By the time my crazy family caught up to us, we’d steeled ourselves for the inevitable fallout.

And got so much more than we expected, in more ways than one. We’re married now. Husband and wife.

That’s really all that matters.

That, and honeymoon sex.

Lots and lots and lots of honeymoon sex. It’s my wifely right to walk funny for the next few days.

And his husbandly duty to make it so.

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Out Now—The Beauty and the Badass, M/F BDSM Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

The Beauty and the BadassBlurb:

From the moment Alexei Miles sets eyes on the kickboxing instructor at his new gym, he’s enthralled. She’s strong and sexy, and he senses something in her that speaks to his deepest desires. Bored of meaningless one-night stands, Alexei vows to find out more about the beautiful badass. He hopes his senses are correct—that her desires will match his own, and that his period of unsatisfying sexual encounters is over.

Zoe Harrison notices the new guy as soon as he walks into the gym—difficult not to, really, given he’s a six-feet-plus gorgeous Viking. As well as being attractive, he awakens something deep inside that she’d almost forgotten about. Men that can handle Zoe’s busy lifestyle are few and far between. Add to that her very specific sexual appetites and it’s little wonder she’s been single for so long. Is the Viking about to change all that?

Note: The Beauty and the Badass has been previously released as part of the Dirty Doms boxed set.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/beautybadass

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2iX4eqe

iBooks: http://apple.co/2ivPlfu

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2i2OgdX

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2hKxPVM

*****

Excerpt:

Alexei followed John into the building, a sense of trepidation hanging over him. It was never easy moving to a new place, and as an army brat he’d had more than his fair share of relocating. Dealing with new landlords, new neighbors, new neighborhood. Not to mention the job side of it—new role, new building, new boss…

He’d spent the last month dealing with all that, and now – thanks to the friendship that had sprung up between him and his colleague, John – he was getting back on track with his hobbies, too. John wasn’t a gym bunny, exactly, but he did like to keep in shape, which was why he’d recommended his local sports gym to Alexei when he’d asked.

“Just a bunch of folks keeping fit and trim, letting off some steam,” he’d said. “No posturing, silly competition, or showing off. God, I reckon if someone started posing in front of a mirror in that place, they’d get their arse kicked.”

He’d made the place sound a bit rough and ready, but that was fine by Alexei. As long as it had the equipment he needed, it would suit him down to the ground. It was made all the more attractive by the price – around half of what the more traditional gyms wanted in membership fees. And he only had to pay when he actually attended. He wasn’t sure yet how much working away his new job was going to entail, but it still made more sense to use a place that had a pay-as-you-go system. At least until he got settled.

They passed a reception desk of sorts, which looked like somewhere the building’s owner probably did the admin and accounts. After that, there was a row of seating up against the wall on their right hand side, and the space opened up on their left. Wooden flooring stretched from just beside them to the far end of the long area, and a boxing ring sat in one corner.

Alexei raised his eyebrows. It was a bit rough and ready, but it was well-appointed and clearly well-used. Much better to have a place with regular, dedicated clients than some gleaming, spick and span monstrosity of a gym that nobody ever went to, or went more to lift weights and gaze lovingly at themselves in the mirrors than to actually do a thorough workout.

He continued following John along the carpeted area that ran around the nearest two sides of the wooden flooring, allowing people to access the rooms opposite the entrance without getting in the way of the people using the main space. It was currently taken up by what looked like an all-female kickboxing class. And they were good. He certainly wouldn’t like to piss any of them off—they could definitely handle themselves.

Alexei was just about to look away—he didn’t want them to think he was some kind of pervert for staring—when his gaze alighted on the instructor. She was a petite blonde, with a long, sleek ponytail sitting high up on her head, which swung as she walked from one student to the next, passing comment, suggesting improvements, and so on. He was so mesmerized by her that he forgot all about not staring. In fact, he forgot about pretty much everything, and let out an “ooof!” as he slammed straight into John’s broad, hard back.

“Hey,” John said, turning around and putting a hand on Alexei’s shoulder to steady him. “Look where you’re bloody going, mate. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Alexei opened his mouth to reply, but his brain refused to supply any words. Instead, his eyes gave him away, as he couldn’t resist another glance in her direction.

Following his gaze, John smirked when he spotted just who had distracted Alexei so much. “The cute blonde, I take it?”

Alexei nodded, his face growing hot at the thought someone might have seen what happened. At the thought she might have seen. “Who is she?”

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

 

Shameless Selfie: Landscapes

 

 

 

It’s Shameless Selfie time, and because I’m very busy with the final rewrite of Blind-Sided, in which both Reese Chambers and Alonso Darlington from In The Flesh and before that, Landscapes, are very much main players in that tale, I decided to share a little snippet from Landscapes, which is the story of how Alonso and Reese met. And since their tale is a tale of Lakeland at it’s loveliest and High View, Alonso’s home, is set in the Lakeland fells, this little selfie from the Lake District seemed appropriate. Enjoy their little garden encounter.

 

Sometimes love is the most dangerous choice

 

Landscapes Blurb:

(A Medusa’s Consortium story)

Alonso Darlington has a disturbing method of keeping landscaper, Reese Chambers, both safe from and oblivious to his dangerous lust for the man. But Reese isn’t easy to keep secrets from, and Alonso wants way more than to admire the man from afar. Can he risk a real relationship without risking Reese’s life?

Note: Landscapes has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: On Boys boxed set.

 

 

Landscapes — Encounter in an Overgrown Garden — Landscapes:

Before dinner Reese decided to take another wander through the ruins of the gardens he’d be restoring. He anticipated working long hours, or at least as long as he could manage with the days closing in. Tomorrow was the first of October, a strange time to begin such a restoration, but that was why Alonso Darlington was paying him so well. It was unusually warm for October, but Reese knew, especially in the Lake District, the weather could turn in a matter of minutes, and High View was definitely just that. If the weather were bad down below, it would be worse up here. He could understand exactly why Darlington wanted to restore the manor house, but God the man must have bags of money because it was costing a bomb just to have the gardens done. He could only imagine the cost of restoring a manor house that was barely more than a ruin. Talia had informed him the wiring and plumbing to make it livable for Darlington and his small staff had been sorted, and it was warm and comfortable in spite of the way it looked. It was fit for winter, but the actual restorations wouldn’t begin until spring. Yet Darlington was adamant about the garden. It was to be a night garden – something Reese had never done before, something that would be even more of a challenge since many of the plants common in night gardens were not native to the harsh climate of the fells. Talia had explained that Alonso Darlington had a medical condition that made him extremely sensitive to sunlight, but the man loved to be outside and especially to wander his gardens. Reese got the impression the man had lots of gardens on lots of estates. At the moment all that mattered to him was scraping by enough to keep a roof over his head until he could get established in Keswick, and the money he would get working for Darlington would go a long way toward that goal.

As he walked through the overgrown tangle of a space that had little left but a tumble of dry stone wall to indicate it had ever been a garden, he noticed the natural terracing of the land, the lovely view, which, at night would have very little light pollution. He could imagine Alonso Darlington, bundled against the Cumbrian chill, watching the moon hanging weightlessly above the beck. He’d not actually met the man. He wondered if he were fit enough to make the descent from the house to the garden and back. It was steep, and if he had a medical condition, not at all ideal. It seemed a strange place for an invalid to settle. Reese bent to pull a handful of weeds away from some piece of stone statuary to discover that it was a sleeping griffin.

As was often the case, he found himself pulled into his efforts. In no time, he had cleared the thick tangle of growth enough to reveal a low stone bench next to the griffin. The day was unusually calm. The angle of the late afternoon sun bore down on him until trickles of sweat ran over his ribs from beneath his arms. He shoved out of his shirt and let it fall onto the bench, and his pulse kicked up with inspiration as he contemplated the stone bench flanked by the sleeping griffin and the lazy arch of the sun across the sky. His heart kicked up another notch as the pale face of a heavy moon rose like a giant balloon over the opposite end of the valley and hung as though it were balanced by the blazing disk opposite it. The terrace, stones now buried beneath several centuries of earth and growth, had been flat, a small space gouged out of the high flank of the fell by forces much older, but if he wasn’t mistaken, the fell-side garden and the angle of the valley far below provided something far greater than a place for Mr. Darlington to sniff night-blooming jasmine. It provided a place to observe the passage of the sun and moon and the movement of the constellations along the ecliptic in the dark dome of the sky as the seasons came and went.

He paced off the space, and cleared a small patch at each corner for a visual, all the while scribbling notes and simple line drawings on the small pad he’d brought for the purpose. He worked quickly as ideas formed in his head, barely noticing the darkening of the sky to shades of mauve and melon and then to the clear blue black of approaching night. It was only when he could see to sketch no longer, that he tossed the pad on the bench and looked up to see Venus on the horizon. The fells hunkered like sleeping giants above the moon glow on the silver thread of the beck below. The shapes of sky and earth rested against each other like lovers in an embrace, and he stood there in the middle, his eyes focused on Venus, feeling as though it all revolved around him, as though he held it all in balance. As a child, he had stood and watched the earth rotate. His father had taught him to mark that rotation by use the single standing stone that dominated the meadow behind their house. If he waited patiently, he could see the earth slide past the arc of the rising sun. Breathlessly, he stood, frozen, watching long enough that Venus appeared to move above the serpentine path of the beck.

‘Dinner’s getting cold, Mr. Chambers.’

Before Reese could do more than jump and swallow back a curse, a man materialized out of the shadow of the fell in a sudden wave of spice and sandalwood.

‘Though I can hardly blame you lingering for such a view.’ The voice was a velvety baritone that Reese could almost feel in his own chest. ‘Thanks to the diligent work of the electricians, the microwave runs just fine, and though cook is excellent at what he does, some things are worth waiting dinner on. Venus?’ He nodded to the sky.

‘Yes,’ Reese replied, trying to catch glimpses of his host in his peripheral vision. ‘And you’re Mr. Darlington, I presume?’

‘Alonso, please. I think working with our hands in the earth, as we will be, is good reason to dispense with formalities.’ He offered his hand.

‘Reese.’ The instant skin touched skin it was as though lightning bolted through him. He stumbled backward, swallowing a startled cry as images flashed behind his eyes, Alonso’s mouth on his neck, on his belly, Alonso’s tongue snaking a path over his arse, Alonso kneeling over him, cock in hand. And him yielding. It was only Alonso Darlington pulling him close that kept him from falling. When he came back to himself, he was settled him onto the bench and it was a good thing. The erection that threatened to unload in his jeans would have made walking difficult.

‘I’m sorry,’ he managed, when the fell stopped spinning beneath him. ‘Not sure what happened. Too much staring at the moon maybe.’ He could feel Alonso’s gaze, almost like a caress, and he felt shy, as though somehow the man knew that he had nearly come in his jeans. Fuck if his touch hadn’t felt almost like … foreplay.

‘Perhaps you’re hungrier than you think, and though it’s nearly October, it’s still quite warm for exerting oneself in the sun.’

Reese forced an embarrassed smile. ‘I’m used to working in the hot sun.’

‘Then you’re a lucky man,’ Alonso stood and handed him his shirt from where he had dropped it on the end of the bench. ‘Come, you’re chilled. See there, you’ve broken out in goose bumps. Put on your shirt and I’ll take you back to the house and feed you.’

Somehow the idea of letting the man feed him made him blush.

‘I’m sweaty. I’ve been pulling weeds. I need a shower.’

‘Nonsense,’ once again he could feel the man’s eyes raking his body like the touch of a palm. ‘We’re not formal in this heap. We just barely have electricity. You’re welcome as you are, and my home will be the happier for the spirit of the outdoors you bring.’

Reese chuckled. ‘I just hope that spirit is not too strong for pleasant company.’

Again, there was the feel of being caressed. ‘I assure you, Reese, your spirit is just the thing for pleasant company.’ Then he turned and headed up to the house.

Alonso’s pace was vigorous and, even in full darkness, it was not hard to tell he was slender and fit, but Reese knew that as surely as if he had seen the man naked, as surely as if he had explored the rise and fall and slope and valley of those firm muscles with his own hands. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t! Christ, he needed to think of something other than Alonso Darlington’s naked body before he thoroughly embarrassed himself.

Reese was surprised to find that several rooms of the big house were cozy and well decorated. Alonso offered a shrug as he looked around. ‘A man has to have a little space that’s livable. The wash room is down the hall.’

When Reese returned from his hasty ablutions, he found Darlington speaking quietly with Talia, who wore a silky red dress and heels that made her almost tall enough to look Alonso in the eyes. Talia pressed a kiss to Alonso’s cheek, and Reese’ belly burned as the man’s hand slid over her shoulder to rest in the small of her back. With the burn came the startling realization; it wasn’t that he wanted his hand on Talia, but rather he wanted Alonso’s hand on him. Christ, he really had had too much sun.

‘You two have a good evening.’ Talia said. Then she planted a kiss on Reese’ cheek, and his skin prickled with the feel of Alonso’s lips, with the feel of Alonso’s hand coming to rest on his hip. ‘I’m off to meet friends in Penrith,’she was saying, when he could get his mind off the idea of Alonso’s mouth on his. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Talia’s one of my oldest and dearest friends,’ Alonso said, as they watched her leave. ‘She’s my eyes in the daylight and often the source of wisdom I lack.’ Was it possible that he sensed Reese’ jealousy, even before he had?

 

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Amazon DE
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

 

“Landscapes is, quite simply, one of the best pieces of paranormal erotica I’ve read in a very long time. Ms. Grace’s eloquent, sensual prose weaves a spell that pulls you into the shadowy world of vampire Alonso Darlington and turns his desperate, reluctant, indirect pursuit of landscaper Reese Chambers into a pulse-pounding, breath-stealing fever dream.” Lisabet Sarai

 

 

Wednesday on Thursday: New Kay Jaybee Novella

As always it’s a pleasure to have my dear friend and fabulous writer, Kay Jaybee, at my place. I’ve been waiting excitedly for this one; Kay Jaybee’s new release, Wednesday on Thursday. And here are some yummy details.

Wednesday on Thursday by Kay Jaybee

Kay Jaybee’s brand new novella is an erotic adventure which take’s you into the world of obsession- with a twist. A very puzzling twist. Quite literally.

It’s amazing where drinking a cup of coffee and a doing a crossword puzzle can lead you…

Blurb:

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the cafe stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

***

Buy Wednesday on Thursday Here:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

 

Extract from Wednesday on Thursday

Prologue-

Sat at her usual table, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her latte, Wednesday began her daily cycle of speculation. Who was he? Did he come into the cafe at other times and fixate on other customers? What was going through his mind while he observed her so intently? Why didn’t it bother her?

Most men noticed Wednesday’s chest first; some opted for checking out her arse. A rare few went further with their assessment, and engaged her in conversation before they tried their luck.

But not this man; the one she referred to as the coffee guy.

With a double shot espresso in his hand, the first time he’d set eyes on Wednesday, the coffee guy had started with an unashamed assessment of her chest, then, over a period of several weeks, studied her from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes.

Instinct told Wednesday to avoid the coffee guy at all costs. The way he examined her with his enquiring midnight blue eyes was so unsettling. And yet…

Whenever Wednesday walked into the cafe she frequented during her lunch break, the coffee guy would be there. From the moment she took her first step through the door, his focus would shift from his drink to the queue of customers, where it would become fixed upon her.

She thought she’d imagined it at first, but as time had gone by, Wednesday had become increasingly convinced it really was her he was watching.

It had crossed her mind that maybe she should be scared, that this man could be some sort of voyeuristic stalker. But Wednesday didn’t feel threatened; just intrigued and aroused, although she wasn’t sure why.

Only once had he spoken to her.

A swapped lunch break with her friend Carol had placed Wednesday behind the coffee guy in the queue.

Her coffee had already been in her hand when he’d stepped back and accidentally knocked into her, spilling the beverage down her front in a breathtaking cascade of wet heat.

Wednesday had watched helplessly as the liquid seeped through her black shirt, ran down her purple pencil skirt, and travelled on an unstoppable route into her boots.

Too stunned to talk, she’d tugged the wet material of her shirt outwards, not caring that she might be giving the world a generous view of her cleavage.

‘Wednesday, are you okay?’ The barista behind the counter had rushed to her side, pushing a wad of paper napkins into her hands. ‘You can use the staffroom if you like. There are spare T-shirts in there. Help yourself.’

Feeling like an unwilling contestant in a wet T-shirt competition, Wednesday had rushed towards the door marked Staff Only.

It was only once she’d walked into the staffroom that she realised the man who’d caused the accident had followed her.

‘Your name is Wednesday?’

‘Yes.’

‘I find that rather pleasing.’

Then, without a word of apology for ruining her clothes and potentially scalding her, the coffee guy had disappeared.

All Wednesday had been left with was the lingering blaze of his navy blue eyes, which had heated her flesh just as much as the spilt drink.

 

 

About Kay Jaybee:

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO, and received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has written over 150 erotic stories, including The Collector, (KDP, 2016), The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, Xcite 2011-14), The New Room, (Xcite, 2015), The Voyeur, (Xcite 2012), Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats, 2012), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on –

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook -http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance as Jenny Kane – www.jennykane.co.uk

 

Smut Restrained in the Wild or in the Dungeon

I’ve got multiple reasons for being excited about participating in the Smut Restrained Blog Hop today. First off, I adore Victoria and Kev Blisse, and I’m always happy to participate in an event they sponsor. Second, my very naughty, very al fresco m/m novella, Toys for Boys, which was first published in the Brit Boys with Toys Box Set, is now available for pre-order, and I’m elated to be able to share with you a little restraint al fresco. And third, the fantastic cover for Toys for Boys is the work of the very talented Kev Blisse.

 

 

What’s Smut Restrained all about? 

If you’re in the Manchester area on the 28th, join The lovely Smut Folks on Saturday 28th January from 1pm -5pm at Miss T’s Dungeon in Stockport.

There will be demonstrations with rope and chains, sexy readings and lots of time to get hands on with the restraints and toys of your choice – bring your own gear or borrow some once you arrive, it’s up to you.
There’s be an experienced rigger on hand to give advice and answers your rope questions. There’ll also be other experienced doms and subs eager to answer any kinky questions you have.

The world famous erotic tombola will also be a highlight of the day with some spectacular prizes to be won from some truly fabulous companies.  Definitely worth having a go at just £1 for 3 tickets.

There will be lots of time to play in any way you like using all the facilities of Miss T’s well kitted out dungeon as well as time to socialise too.

 

Pick up your tickets here:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/smut-restrained-tickets-28725102555

Tickets cost £5.80 with fee in advance or £10 on the door but please let me know if you’re planning to turn up on the day – I don’t want to have to turn anyone away if we get full!

 

Join the facebook event here:

https://www.facebook.com/events/311997799169132/

 

 

Toys for Boys Blurb:

Alpha nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed in Toys for Boys.

 

Warning: Adult Content: 

Toys For Boys — Low Tech & High Tech Goes Wild – Excerpt:

 

Toys For BoysThe second day they walked in sunshine. It was another fourteen and a half mile trek, in addition to what they’d not been able to finish the day before. Will seemed no worse for wear. Doc had to admit he was beginning to enjoy the man’s company—not just because of his nice arse or their little exchange this morning, but because he was a good walker. Like Doc, he was comfortable with his own silence, silence which was companionable in the long, indulgent stretches of it they shared on the trail. The man’s pace was good, he never lagged and he never complained. He used his toy effectively and way more subtly than most tourists with cell phones—not counting this morning’s little indiscretion, that is. They’d taken to using the personal pronoun for the smart phone, myBrain, urBrain, even occasionally ourBrain.

At the top of Loft Beck the two looked out across Fleetwith to the ruined tramway track, which led down to Honister Slate mine. He watched Will shooting a video of Buttermere and Crummock Water stretched out in the lazy autumn sun, reflecting the sapphire Lakeland sky like giant mirrors. “The panoramic beauty is quintessential Lakeland,” Will spoke into the device in a low, conversational voice, but made no attempt to hide his excitement. He was saying something about Moses Trod and the old whisky smuggling route.

It pleased Doc way out of proportion that the man had clearly done his homework concerning the places they walked. As Doc joined him near the ruined barbed wire fence, Will turned the camera on him and said something about Doc’s abilities in the outdoors that he couldn’t quite catch, but the smile the bloke offered suggested it was either complimentary or playful. Doc didn’t mind either; in fact, he kind of liked having the device turned on him, being the centre of Will’s attention—as long as he wasn’t naked with his cock in his hand.

They stopped for an indulgent ice cream at the slate mine’s visitor centre before they made the trek down Honister Pass, along the Derwent River and on into the Rosthwaite area, where they set up camp along the river behind a willow thicket that gave them some privacy. It was Doc’s favourite place to camp along the Derwent, but he hadn’t chosen it without ulterior motives, and surely Will had to suspect something when they set up two tents, but used one just for stashing the gear.

Once camp was set up, they shared a pleasant cup of tea, discussing the events of the day. They’d made up the lost mileage and arrived in record time. With the map spread between them and urBrain in hand they spent a pleasant half an hour going over tomorrow’s

dramatic walk to Patterdale, anticipating good weather. When Will went off to the river to get water for dinner and washing up, Doc made his move. He pulled out his Vitronox and cut a slender willow branch about the size and flexibility of a good riding crop.

By the time Will returned with water, he was paring the last of the twigs and leaves, except for the two at the very tip. He had plans for those. Will paused only briefly to take in the situation, then set down the water and came to stand in front of him. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what’s going on, Nerd Boy.” He folded his knife and stuck it back in his pocket, then stood and gave the willow switch a good brisk snap against his hand. “I told you this morning it wasn’t over.”

“Are you serious?” Will eyed the switch, then shot Doc an uncertain glance. “You can’t be serious.”

“Couldn’t be more so.” Before the bloke could protest further, Doc caught both his wrists up in a length of lightweight rope he carried with him for emergencies. With the switch in one hand and the length of rope in the other, he led Will—who was either too surprised, or too intrigued to protest—to a young oak and secured his arms so that he was leaning forward embracing the trunk, arse nicely presented.

“You’re not seriously going to…” Will’s voice trailed off into a breathless gasp as Doc gave him a proper pat-down until he found the urBrain in the front pocket, close to a growing stiffy. Oh, this was going to be good.

“Now, let’s see if I’ve been paying attention to your little demos on how to work this thing. Ah yes, here we go. Camera on.” Will had given him the pass code with the idea that he could give a better review if he could see how easy the phone was for a non-techie person to operate. “I’d give this little baby an A-plus for being user friendly,” Doc said. “And it’s important to have a user friendly camera in a place where the views are so spectacular. Now then,” he focussed the urBrain on his handiwork, “you won’t be needing these.” With one hand, he gave the thin walking shorts a hard yank down over Will’s hips and was treated to a gasp of surprise that resulted in a clench and release of the well-muscled arse.

“You fucker,” Will half hissed, half chuckled as Doc manoeuvred the shorts off over the man’s walking boots and kneed his legs apart to offer the best view and easy access, all the while videoing with the other hand, switch gripped under his arm.

“Not yet, I’m not, but I’m hoping. First,” he brought the tip of the switch in between Will’s legs so that the two remaining leaves tickled and stroked his balls. The man jerked, sucked air between his teeth, and his cock surged. “First, we have some unfinished business.” Then he brought the switch up with a sharp snap against those exposed engorged balls.

“Bloody hell!” came the response. Will’s whole body jerked and tensed, but especially his expanding cock.

Doc shoved the camera in his pocket, and moved in. He grabbed the bloke by the hair, pulling his head up to give him a thorough but brutal tongue kiss, to which Will fucking Charles responded by moaning into his mouth, his tongue making for a right nice welcome. Then he gave a harsh grunt and flinched at the sharp thwack of the switch across his bare left buttock, his mouth round with surprise, his pupils dilated with something else. “The more you talk, the more welts your arse gets, and possibly your balls too. So what’s it gonna be, William? Keep quiet and take your punishment so we can get to the good parts?” He gave the man’s cock a hard squeeze. “Or get extra stripes and go to bed frustrated? Besides,” he added, caressing the very fine balls, “I can tell you’re not opposed to a little pain. Now shut up and hold still. I’m anxious to test urBrain.”

Will nodded his agreement and glanced over his shoulder to watch.

Doc pulled out the phone and began to record as the next stripe came down nice and red and raised against the other pristine arse-cheek. “I’m not the photographer you are, my lad, but this is going to be a work of art, if I do say so myself. Your little toy is making my little toy a whole lot more fun to play with. Who knew high tech and low tech could be so… compatible?” He laid three more welts in fast succession across the tense arse, recording its grip and release, grip and release around the mouth-watering O displayed so invitingly at the centre.

“The device has a great microphone, too.” He leaned in again and bit Will’s neck. “All the better to hear you with,” he said, taking in the enticing mish-mash of sounds coming from deep in the man’s thick chest, any one of which might be pain or pleasure. He was surprised to hear that his own soundtrack, laid down next to Will’s, was equally ambiguous and, while he wasn’t experiencing any real pain, there was a good deal of… strain against the fly of his walking shorts, and his balls felt as heavy as river rock.

He shoved the switch back under his arm and went to work on his fly, zooming in for a close-up of Will’s clenching anus pillowed between buttocks latticed with nice red welts. “William, William, William, it’s a good thing you’re walking tomorrow rather than sitting on your wounded bum.”

In response, Will raised up on his toes and lifted his hips, presenting himself like a mare in heat and, fuck, if Doc didn’t feel like a stud ready for service and needing to unload. He gave the displayed balls two light snaps with the switch and then dropped it onto the ground.

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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