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Posts Tagged ‘Elemental Fire’

Empty Nest Time Three

Elemental Fire cover image finalThis week I had my last breakfast of Fiori’s Swedish pancakes with Tara and Anderson and the Elemental coven, and then I sent the finished manuscript of Elemental Fire off to Xcite for the final edit. I’ll have one last read-through when the proofs come back to me and, after that, I’ll be saying good-bye to the Elemental Coven and turning them over to the readers. And my first trilogy will be complete!

What I hadn’t expected was such a huge dose of empty nest syndrome so quickly. I mean I get that feeling after every novel, novella, or story I finish, but this was major. This was three books worth of ENS. This was a story of a long battle for the life and love and the well-being of the Elemental Coven; a battle against a very nasty, yet very sexy demon. Because the story is set in the Lake District, which is one of my favourite places on the planet, that meant that every second I spent on the trilogy was like escaping to Cumbria for a quick break. I’ll miss that a lot!

Elemental Cottage and Lacewing Farm have become real to me. I love curling up in front of the fireplace on the cushions in Tim Meriwether’s farmhouse with a nice bottle of claret. I love sitting in the lovely library at Elemental Cottage eating Fiori’s homemade gingerbread and having a cuppa while discussing ways to take out Deacon. I love time spent with Tara in the greenhouse. I love sexy magic circles cast in the Room of Reflection or in the Dream Cave. I love sitting down with the whole coven for a fry-up or a breakfast of Fiori’s Swedish pancakes after a hot night of sex magic. I love the camaraderie and the closeness that developed in the coven, and I love the fun-loving spirit in spite of the adversity with which they were dealing.

There are other stories to be told, the stories of other members of the Elemental Coven, the stories of other magical experiences in the Lake District, and I’ll go back there in a heartbeat if the Muse is willing. And I’ll be honest, I go back and visit all my novels periodically, at least in my head. The characters have been too much a part of my life not to, and never more so than the Elemental Coven because I’ve walked the land, been caught out in the mist, explored the quarries, drank in the fresh fell air.

Of course it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning, really. As always, the best part will be sharing Elemental Fire and the antics of the Elemental Coven with you. I look forward to that even more than Fiori’s Swedish pancakes. So here’s a little peek of what’s to come.

Elemental Fire Blurb:

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Excerpt:

From far away someone shook Tara’s arm, someone called to her in distressed tones, trying to bring her back to the Waking World. But she Riding the Ether cover image Finaldidn’t want to go back. It was safe and warm and happy here. There was nothing but sadness in the Waking World. She just wanted to sleep here in the cave and wait for whoever the beautiful woman would bring to her.

But the shaking and jostling continued. She slapped the hand away but it kept coming back to shake her. She was just ready to tell whoever it was to bugger off, when she opened her eyes and looked up to see the outline of a man leaning over her. Even in the darkness, the energy emanating from him was magnetic. Everything inside her tightened with anticipation, and Goddess, she wanted him. Surely she was still dreaming.

‘Are you alright?’ His voice vibrated through her chest and his touch felt electric, full of magic. ‘I thought you were dead, then I heard you moaning. I guess you were dreaming. I was worried and then …’

They both realized at the same time that her shirt was open and so were her trousers, and one hand still rested on her mons. She could feel the man’s gaze taking in the situation, and he twigged. ‘Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought you were — ’

‘I was! Dreaming, I mean.’ She quickly jerked her hand out of her trousers and tugged her open blouse across her bare breasts. ‘I was dreaming, and she said she’d send someone and …’ She blinked hard and looked around at the night sky. She couldn’t have been asleep long, but everything felt unreal, different. Was she still dreaming? Dreams could be so powerful at times, so confusing. She reached up to touch his face and felt a surge of magic — some new, some old. Some very old. Had she enfleshed a ghost because of her horny dream? When she walked at night, ghosts did sometimes follow her onto the fells in hopes that she would enflesh them and allow them to experience for a little while the pleasures afforded the living. And any other time she would happily oblige. But when she walked at night, she always sent them away. This was her place, her alone time. No one was welcome to disturb her here, and most ghosts knew that. Had she been that out of it? Was she that desperate for a fuck that her unconscious had broken her own rules?’

BTR FINAL IMAGEThe man sat back on his haunches and looked down at her. In the darkness she could only make out his silhouette dominated by broad shoulders, but it was enough to make her  own arousal spike. Certainly if she had enfleshed him, she couldn’t leave him in the state he was now, no doubt, in because of her.

He gave a little gasp of surprise when she off-balanced him, pulled him down to her and kissed him. ‘You shouldn’t have come here,’ she managed before she drew him into another kiss.

‘I might say the same about you,’ he replied.

Cheeky ghost, she thought, but she kissed him again. This time he returned the favour. And the power surge she felt went clear from her mouth down to the base of her spine and back again. His eyes fluttered, he gasped against her mouth, clearly feeling what she felt, and there was no disguising the press of his heavy erection against the fly of his walking trousers.

‘What the hell was that?’ She gasped, not entirely sure she wasn’t going to come just from their last kiss.

He pulled back from her with a start, one hand against his lips and the other resting low on his belly. ‘If you do that again, I can’t guarantee what will… If you do that again.’

For a tightly stretched second, they froze in each other’s gaze. Then she forced words up through her throat, struggling to breathe through her arousal. ‘I can’t … I need …’

‘Me too,’ He whispered. She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes in the darkness, but his gaze was baking hot against her.

Focus. Damn it, she needed to be able to focus, to think. She forced a deep breath and then they were both speaking at the same time.

‘I’m sorry … I didn’t … I wouldn’t …’

‘I don’t know what just happened,’ he gasped.

‘Me neither,’ she managed.

Then they were on each other. He yanked the clasp from her hair and clawed it free from the ponytail. She curled her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulled him on top of her, down between her open legs, lifting her hips, wrapping her ankles around his waist and thrusting up to meet him. The sounds coming from his throat were deep-chested, wild, and she wasn’t sure where his grunts and growls left off and hers began as he thrust and ground against her, shoving her arse into the soft moss with his efforts.

‘I need to get to you,’ he gasped pulling away from her, tugging and fumbling at her trousers until they were down over her hips.

She toed one of her boots off and kicked it aside, and he lifted her leg free of her trousers while she shoved open his fly and slid her hand into his boxers until she could wrap her fingers around his heavy cock.

Dismantle tramway from Fleetwith PikeHe gasped and pushed her hand away. ‘Don’t do that. I’ll come in your hand and I don’t want to come there. He trapped both her wrists above her head with a large hand while he nuzzled his way into her shirt and battled with his trousers until his butt was bare.

Then he released her hands and kissed his way down her belly, shoving her legs further apart as he went, lowering his face, biting the inside of her left thigh just below the swell of her pussy. She yelped and drenched herself. He fingered her open and ran his tongue up from her perineum all the way to her clit and bit again. And she came, bellowing her orgasm into the cool night air. ‘I want you in me, I want you in me,’ she gasped, even before she could breathe again, even before the waves inside her had dissipated.

He positioned himself and pushed into her deep and hard and they both growled like angry wolves. She grabbed his arse cheeks in an effort to pull him still deeper into her. He dug into the moss with his feet, shoved up onto his knees and lifted her until her shoulders rested in the moss and her hips were in the air, knees pressing upward against her breasts. Then he rolled with her and pulled her on top of him. With one trembling hand he shoved her blouse off her shoulders and her breasts bounced freely into his cupping fingers. With the other hand he expertly found her clit, and resting the flat of his palm on her mound, he stroked and rubbed with the pad of his thumb.

One wave of orgasm collapsed in on the next, like the waves breaking against the cliffs at St Bee’s Head. Then both of his hands settled to her hips and he thrust up nearly bucking her off in his efforts to penetrate still deeper. His grip on her hips was bruising, and she slammed into him harder and harder with each thrust, emotions swirling around, emotions that she didn’t want to feel, emotions that she did want to feel, emotions that she had wanted to feel from the time she was a little girl. And somewhere in the midst of their thrusting and pushing, she realized that not all of the emotions were hers. But she couldn’t think, she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the in and out, push and shove, like a mantra, like a spell being woven in rhythm, in repetition, in sync.

And then they both came, screaming and raging and rolling in the moss until he was once again on top of her, his weight feeling like the weight of the world, and yet at the same time feeling like a blanket protecting her from the depths of her own pain. How could this be? How could she ever experience anything like this with some strange horny ghost on the fells?

She found herself with a million questions, and yet by the time she caught her breath, she was fast asleep. To her total surprise, he had crossed the dream threshold and they were chasing the dream together.

 

 

Launch, Lust and Self-Love

Lots of Lakeland Heatwave News!

Body Temperature and Rising has been out in paperback and eBook in the UK since October and in eBook in the US as well, but tomorrow is the official print launch day of Body Temperature and Rising in the US! I love book launches! And I LOVE the chance to celebrate. I’m very pleased with the positive response BTR is getting, and the closer I get to the completion of all three novels in the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, the more excited I get.

In more Lakeland Heatwave news, Body Temperature and Rising is being discussed all this month over at Coffee Time Romance. I’ll be talking paranormal erotic romance, what makes it work and what makes it hot. I’ll also be sharing some juicy excerpts, talking about what inspired me to write it, talking about sex magic, sharing a few snap shots of the glorious English Lake District, where the story is set, and just generally chatting about witches, demons, ghosts and all things paranormal and sexy. Do stop by and chat. Leave a comment for a chance to win your choice of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop.

Even MORE Lakeland Heatwave News

I’m very excited to announce that I’ve just finished the first draft of book three of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire. You may have remembered that I had just finished the first draft of book two, Riding the Ether, in February. I decided to write the last two books back to back so I could get the best overall view of the powerful events that lead to the grand finale. Plus, I had less chance of suffering from empty nest syndrome that way. I have to admit there were a few twist and turns that even I didn’t expect, and I can hardly wait to make all three novels available to my readers! Riding the Ether will be published in October, and there’ll be much partying and dancing in the streets.

Novellas                                                                              

Last month I was all excited about the release of my two new novellas, Surrogates, published with Harper Collin’s new erotica eBook imprint, Mischief, and Migrations,  which included in the brand new Xcite Books line of anthologies, The Secret Library, in the Traded Innocence anthology. I’m happy to announce that both are doing well and enjoying good press. I’m doing my best to have as many of the authors from the new Secret Library line as guest on my blog as possible, so please check in to see what hot, romantic offerings are deliciously hidden inside those very elegant velvet covers. I’ll also have some exciting guest authors stopping by from the new Mischief line as well, so do make sure to check out A Hopeful Romantic for all the latest heat.

Garden Porn

Any of you who have read much of my work know that I’ve got a reputation for writing garden porn. Surrogates is a very hot romp through the veg patch, and some pretty stunning formal gardens as well. My short story, Vegging is packed full of veggie naughtiness, and my story, Allotted Views is a voyeuristic romp through the allotments.  I’ve always found working in the veg patch inspiring, and it has just got a whole lot more inspiring for me, as my husband and I just got an allotment after three long years on the waiting list. I think our patch alone is big enough to feed half of Surrey. And that means, of course, LOTS more inspiration for writing hot garden porn.

The Merry Month of May…er National Masturbation Month!

Okay, how could I possibly NOT end this little update with a happy, touchy-feely mention of National Masturbation Month? The celebration of May as National Masturbation Month started in 1995 in San Francisco as a response to the forced resignation of then U.S. Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders, for remarks she made that masturbation should be taught as a healthy part of human sexuality.

The comment ended Elders’ career. National Masturbation Month came about as an act of protest against Elders’ ouster and a celebration of the safest sex of all. I’m definitely planning to do my part to celebrate in solidarity! And I intend to start by giving you a few very hot excerpts of the self-loving kind throughout the rest of the month – my contribution to the celebration of solo-sex. I hope you find them inspiringJ

Since all the latest news is Lakeland Heatwave, I’m going to start the self-love lit with a hands-on scene from Body Temperature and Rising. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

(in which much naughtiness ensues. Not for the delicate of disposition)

Marie woke to the awareness of a man sitting on the bed next to her, a man who, from the looks of his clothing, must have been at the same costume party as Anderson. His fly was open and he was stroking a substantial hard-on. Instead of being frightened, as would have been the normal response to a stranger rubbing one off on her bed, she simply admired his pale hair and the way his large hand moved over heavy equipment. She liked it when she conjured sexy men to visit her in her dream world. Better yet she had conjured one obviously ready to play.

She watched through half closed eyes as he shoved his trousers open further and worried distended balls free from the press of his underpants. With one hand, he caressed the length of his cock, with the other he cupped himself and stroked with his thumb.

‘I heard them talking about you.’ The man said. ‘They didn’t say how strong you are.’ He groaned out loud and shifted to slide his trousers down so that his pale ass settled onto the duvet, allowing easier access to himself. ‘Even if they had, I would not have believed them.’ His voice was a harsh whispered. ‘I long to know what you look like beneath the duvet, beneath the nightdress. Please let me look at you.’

So far this dream was shaping up well. She was happy to play I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. Strangely Dream Guy sounded like he’d studied the same romantics Anderson had. Who’d have thought antiquated poet-speak could be so damned hot? She eased herself into a sitting position against the head board and pushed back the bedding. The night shirt lay high against her thighs, barely covering her cunt.

She was amazed at how well she could see in the moonlight drifting through her window. She could see the shape of him, the anxious rise and fall of his chest, the parting of his lips. She could feel his gaze on the hem of her night shirt. She scrunched and raked at it until her hand rested against her pubic mound obscuring his view, and he groaned his frustration. Slowly, carefully she raised her bottom and shifted until the night shirt was out of the way and her bare buttocks pressed against the smooth cotton of the sheet.

His gaze on her felt almost physical, as though with his eyes alone he could gently nudge her open. ‘Please let me see,’ he whispered.

She had played the voyeur with Anderson and Tara earlier. Now it felt wonderfully wicked to play the exhibitionist, as she shifted her ass again and slowly, teasingly opened her thighs, still nestling her hand in her curls, stroking and caressing, making herself wait until that magical moment when her fingers first slipped between the swell of her lips.

‘I can smell you,’ he said. ‘The scent of your sex is intoxicating, please, please let me look at you.’

This time, she moved her fingers down over the hard rise of her clitoris and in between the pout of her lips, her breath catching, her hips jerking with that first electrical touch. Then she spread her labia as wide as she could manage with two fingers and opened her legs still further until she was certain Dream Guy could see every detail of her dilating pussy, every fold of her slippery landscape.

He gasped at the sight, and she could see his balls tighten and jerk with the intake of breath. He shifted a fisted hand down the length of his penis, lingering for his thumb to caress and circle the head, its slit opening and closing with each stroke. She could feel the gentle rocking of the mattress and wasn’t sure if it was from her dream lover, who was now grinding his ass against the bed with each stroke, or if it was from her own bearing down.

‘Touch yourself for me,’ the man said. ‘I want to watch you pleasure your lovely womanhood.’

There was a strange man sitting on the foot of her bed watching her masturbate. The very thought made her juices run thick and hot.

*****

Wishing you all a very merry, touchy-feely month of May! And here’s a lucious link to The Center for the Intimate Arts and some fab visual stimulation.

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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