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Marissa Farrar’s Dirty Shots Now Available!

 It’s my pleasure to welcome Brit Babe extraordinaire, Marissa Farrar, to A Hopeful Romantic today to share a little hot snippet from her novel, Dirty Shots. 

 

dirty_shots_finalDirty Shots Blurb:

Eric Rutherford is a photographer at the top of his game. Young, handsome, and rich, he burst onto the art scene like a rock star. His black and white portraits sell for massive sums, but Eric wants to take a new direction in his work. He longs to create erotic art. He wants to photograph the imprints of rope across a woman’s skin, and the red stripes left by a flogger on a pale bottom. And so his search for the perfect model begins, and when blonde Anya walks into his apartment, his only fear is she’ll say no.

Art student Anya Rhinne knows all about Eric Rutherford. She knows how he’d had every spotlight turned on him, only to fall from grace spectacularly with some kind of breakdown he only described in interviews as his ‘dark days.’ When he offers her the job as his model, and their sessions together grow more intimate, she struggles to divide what is professional from personal. As his work takes a turn toward obsession, a desire to create perfection at all costs, she has to wonder if she’ll ever mean more to him than just a beautiful image on a photograph. Will she sacrifice everything for his art?

 
*Please note, this book was originally released as the serial ‘Model Wanted’ and has been rewritten and relaunched as the novel, ‘Dirty Shots’.

 

Buy Dirty Shots Here:

Amazon: viewBook.at/Dirtyshots

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dirty-shots-marissa-farrar/1124567347

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1151472567

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/dirty-shots

  

Dirty Shots Excerpt:

She stood before him, completely naked, her breasts jutting forward, the small powder puff of blonde hair nestled at the juncture of her thighs. “Because I’ve opened myself up to you in a way I’ve done to no other man and you haven’t so much as laid a finger on me.”

 

He remembered what he’d done in the shower the previous morning and glanced away guiltily. To hide the emotions he
felt sure would be clear in his eyes, he busied himself by reaching into the box where he kept all the accessories he’d gathered for the photo shoot. With a clinking of metal, he pulled out a set of handcuffs and placed them on the floor, followed by a spreader bar. Her eyes widened at the spreader.

 

dirty-shots-fb-meme

 

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked.

 

“It’s designed to hold either the arms, or more often, the feet apart at the ankles. These cuffs,” he lifted one in his palm, “are designed to go around your wrists or ankles, and then the bar can be adjusted, depending on how wide you need to be spread.”

 

A smile played on her lips. “Sounds kinky.”

 

He held her gaze, one corner of his lips quirking up. “I thought you wanted kinky.”

 

Without another word, she held out her wrists to him, but Eric shook his head, dropping the spreader and picking the handcuffs back up. “Turn around.”

 

She did as she was told and he reached down to grasp her hand from her side, pulling it behind her body and clicking on the cool circle of metal. He took her other hand and repeated the motion.

 

“Are you trying to punish me, Eric?” she said, a teasing tone to her voice.

 

“Why? Do you need to be punished?”

 

“I guess you’ll find that out at some point.”

 

Not knowing what to make of her words, he busied himself with the spreader bar. “I want you to get down on your knees.”

 

Carefully, her hands cuffed behind her back, she did as he asked.

 

“Put your face, shoulders and breasts on the floor, but keep your bottom lifted high, your legs spread.”

 

“If I try to lean forward like this, I’ll smack my face on the floor.”

 

She was right; he’d clearly not thought the practicalities through. He should have done the cuffs last.

 

“Here, let me help you.” Careful not to allow his hand to brush her breasts, he reached around her body and supported her upper chest, so she was able to lean forward into the position he wanted without fear of hurting herself.

 

In this position, he attached one cuff of the bar to her ankle and then spread her legs farther to attach the other one. A small chain connected each cuff to the bar, allowing some movement but not enough for her to close her legs to him. He’d never been this close to her before, not naked with her pussy spread open just inches from his face.

 

Eric cleared his throat and forced himself to his feet. His job was to photograph her, not imagine how she would taste as he pushed his tongue inside her.

 

dirty-shots-fb-meme2

 

He adjusted the lighting hanging from the rail on the ceiling and then picked up his camera. He started with shots of her face, one cheek crushed against the white paper-covered floor, her eyes wide and innocent, portraying her vulnerability. Such contrast to the pose she was in. He moved to her back and hands, taking shots of the metal bound around her slender wrists.

 

Finally, he moved the camera to aim between her thighs, at the way her spread position exposed her pussy and ass to him in all their perfection.

 

“Are you going to fuck me like this?” she asked out of the blue.

 

He lowered the camera in shock. “That isn’t what this is about.”

 

She twisted her neck as best she could and locked eyes with him. “What if that’s what I want this to be about?”

 

“Anya …”

 

But he didn’t know what he was going to say. Surely he didn’t intend on telling her no? The position she was in, with her cheek pressed against the floor, her ankles forced apart, her perfect heart-shaped bottom pushed into the air, was just ripe for fucking hard. Between her slender thighs, the swollen lips of her vulva peeped out. He didn’t think he imagined the sheen on her pussy or the inside of her thighs.

 

His balls ached and his cock lengthened in his pants. Her gaze shifted, resting on the increasingly obvious bulge in his crotch.

 

“Anya,” he tried again. “It’s crossing a line. I don’t want to be that kind of man …”

 

“But I want to be that kind of girl,” she said. She spread her ankles wider, pulling the small chains between the spreader bar taut. The metal clinked in response. The position widened her stance, her thighs even more spread than before, exposing the star of her asshole and the delicate inner folds of her pussy.

 

“Oh, God,” he moaned.

 

Fuck it. He might want to be a professional when it came to his photography, but he was still a man.

 

About Marissa Farrar:

Marissa Farrar has always been in love with being in love. But since she’s been married for numerous years and has three young daughters, she’s conducted her love affairs with multiple gorgeous men of the fictional persuasion.

 

The author of more than twenty novels, she has been a full time author for the last six years. She predominantly writes paranormal romance and urban fantasy, but has branched into contemporary fiction as well.

 

If you want to know more about Marissa, then please visit her website at www.marissa-farrar.blogspot.com. You can also find her at her facebook page, www.facebook.com/marissa.farrar.author or follow her on twitter @marissafarrar.

 

She loves to hear from readers and can be emailed at marissafarrar@hotmail.co.uk and to stay updated on all new releases and sales, just sign up to her newsletter! http://forms.aweber.com/form/61/19822861.htm

 

Out Now – Coming In Hot Boxed Set! #cominginhot #PNR #paranormal #contemporary #medical #newrelease #99c

3dcover

Blurb:

Get a dose of romance, STAT!

Featuring NYT, USA Today, and Amazon bestselling authors, we’re Coming In Hot with paranormal to contemporary, and sizzling to seductive bedside manners by the doctors, nurses, paramedics, and more in this boxed set.

Paramedical meets paranormal in this steamy set filled with shifters, werewolves, vampires, and more!

Buy links:

Amazon: http://hyperurl.co/CIHPNR

Nook: http://goo.gl/d60cVx

iBooks: https://goo.gl/rpPUXW

Kobo: https://goo.gl/n212yF

ARe: https://goo.gl/k9B4ch

Don’t forget to add to your *want to read* list on Goodreads: https://goo.gl/kDTJ5L

*****

2dcover

Excerpt from On Her High Horse by Lucy Felthouse:

There was a knock at the door. Brett looked up from where he was transferring hand-written notes onto the practice’s computer system—he hadn’t yet gotten comfortable with taking the iPad out on calls. He was paranoid he’d drop it in a cow pat, or worse. “Yes, come in!”

One of the veterinary surgery’s receptionists—an efficient blonde called Natasha—sidled in, a wry expression on her face. “Hi, Brett. I’m really sorry to bother you, but there’s a woman on the phone, and she’s being, um, rather rude.”

Frowning, Brett replied, “Who is it? And why is she being rude?”

Natasha blew out a breath and shrugged. “She won’t tell me what the issue is. Won’t even tell me what animal she has. She just keeps saying she’ll only speak to a ‘trained professional.’ I don’t know who it is, either. All I know is her first name is—”

“Samantha?” Brett supplied, his shoulders slumping and eyebrows raising.

“Uh, yeah. How did you know? Oh God, I haven’t gone and insulted one of your friends or something, have I? I didn’t mean to, honestly. It’s just she’s being a bit difficult…”

“Natasha, don’t panic. She’s no friend of mine. I’ve never even met the woman. Besides, if she was one of my friends, I’d be giving her a bollocking for being rude to one of my staff, wouldn’t I? Anyway, if it’s the Samantha I think it is, then she’s being very difficult, and you’re being overly polite. Andrew warned me about her.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Bloody typical that she’d phone while he’s away. The man barely ever takes a holiday, and now he finally has, his most awkward client is on the blower. He damn well owes me one after this.”

“If she’s a regular client, how come I’ve never spoken to her before?”

Shrugging, Brett replied, “Dunno. Maybe she’s got Andrew’s mobile number or something?”

Natasha gasped. “But he never gives out his mobile number to clients. He’s very strict about that—always asks us to take a message and if it’s urgent, pass it on to him directly.”

“Yeah…” Brett scratched his head. “He didn’t say much about her, beyond that she can be difficult. Honestly, I was a bit distracted when he mentioned it so I wasn’t paying a great deal of attention. I wish I’d asked more questions now, but I never thought I’d have the misfortune of having to deal with her.”

“You haven’t, yet.” Natasha raised her eyebrows and jerked her chin towards the phone on his desk.

“Good point.” He gave a wan smile. “Suppose I’d better find out what she wants, hadn’t I? If she’s special enough to have Andrew’s precious mobile phone number, then I ought to keep her sweet.”

“Probably wise.” Natasha left the room, closing the door behind her, but not before Brett spotted the slight smile on her face. Relieved to pass on the bitchy customer to him, no doubt.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone. “Hello, Brett Coulson speaking. How can I help?”

“Oh,” came the reply, “Brett. Ah, yes. You’re the other vet, aren’t you? Jolly good. Know what you’re talking about, do you?” The woman’s accent was posh, southern. Like she’d been to a finishing school or something.

Gritting his teeth, Brett then pasted a smile on his face, hoping it would be apparent in his tone, despite the daggers he was actually staring at her through the handset. “Yes, I most certainly do.” Should fucking do, after five years of training and the same again working in the profession. I’m not on bloody work experience here.

“But you sound so young.”

Glad she couldn’t see him, Brett rolled his eyes. Her problem obviously wasn’t an emergency, the way she was waffling on, time-wasting. “I’m almost twenty-nine, Mrs…”

“It’s Ms, actually. Samantha Hanson-Bishop here. So you’re still a baby then.”

“Is there something I can help you with, Ms Hanson-Bishop? Only I’ve a call to go out on in a few minutes.” He couldn’t help the emphasis he’d put on the Ms. It could be construed as sarcastic, but it was still a damn sight more polite than anything he really wanted to say. Would she just get to the point already?

“Yes, yes, of course. That’s why I’m telephoning. I just wanted to make sure I was speaking to someone who actually knew what they were talking about. Clearly your receptionist doesn’t know anything about animals, much less my thoroughbred horses.”

Ah, okay, that made things clearer. The stuck-up, posh bird ran a stable. Now the haughty attitude made sense—she was entitled, bored, and thought she was better than everyone else. Wanting to defend Natasha—who was, in fact, very knowledgeable about animals, it being part of her job and all—Brett had to bite his tongue. If the woman, however snobby and irritating, ran a stable of thoroughbreds, then she was no doubt bringing plenty of money into the practice. They were doing okay, but the loss of a big customer without a replacement wasn’t something they’d be able to sustain for very long. And word of mouth was very important in this game—he didn’t want her bad-mouthing him or the surgery.

*****

Featuring:

NY Times Bestselling Author Izzy Szyn

USA Today Bestselling Author Josie Jax

USA Today Bestselling Author Elianne Adams

USA Today Bestselling Author Amy Lee Burgess

USA Today Bestselling, Award Winning Author L.B. Gilbert writing as Lucy Leroux

International, Award Winning, Bestselling, Author Gina Kincade

International, Award Winning, Bestselling Author Angelica Dawson

International, Award Winning, Bestselling Author Erzabet Bishop

International, Award Winning, Bestselling Author D. F. Krieger

International, Award Winning, Bestselling Author Muffy Wilson

International, Award Winning, Bestselling Author Tierney O’Malley

NY Times Bestselling Author K.N. Lee

Award Winning, Amazon Bestselling Author Lucy Felthouse

Award Winning, Amazon Bestselling Author Red L. Jameson

Award Winning, Amazon Bestselling Author Chanta Rand

Award Winning, Amazon Bestselling Author Rebekah R. Ganiere

International Bestselling Author Bethany Shaw

International Bestselling Author Elvira Bathory

Amazon Bestselling Author Penelope Silva

Amazon Bestselling Author Kathleen Grieve

Amazon Bestselling Author Xandra James

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Out Now – The Persecution of the Wolves by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #thriller #shifter

The-persecustiob-of-wolves-evernightpublishing-2016-smallpreview - CopyBlurb:

Werewolf brothers Matthew and Isaac have lived in the peaceful village of Eyam, Derbyshire all their lives. The villagers know what happens every full moon, and have their reasons for keeping quiet. But this secrecy comes at a cost—the brothers can’t risk romantic entanglements.

Then, at the full moon, a sheep is slaughtered on Eyam Moor, by what could only be a large animal. Even the brothers’ staunchest supporters begin to have their doubts about who—or what—could have done it.

As the brothers fight to clear their names, things are complicated by unexpected opportunities to indulge their lust. Isaac is intrigued by a handsome newcomer to the village, and a vivacious visitor is happy to offer Matthew her all.

Can the men prove their innocence, or is their centuries-old secret about to be revealed to the outside world, bringing their carefully-crafted existence crashing down around their ears?

PLEASE NOTE: This book was previously published as Pack of Lies—the content has not changed. The novel also contains both M/F and M/M scenes.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-persecution-of-the-wolves/

*****

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Excerpt:

As Matthew and Isaac Adams opened the front door to their house, the telephone started ringing. Matthew sighed. “Typical. No rest for the wicked. I’ll answer it, you go and get ready for work.”

Isaac nodded and headed off to do as his brother advised. Matthew, the older of the two, walked toward the ringing phone and snatched it off the hook. Then, remembering that the person on the other end of the line would have no idea what a rough night he’d just had, he made the effort to inject some politeness into his tone.

“Hello? Adams residence.” Isaac had told him time and time again that the last part about the residence was old-fashioned, that people didn’t say that anymore, but Matthew couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hello, Matthew? It’s Richard.” The village vicar’s voice, even though he’d only spoken four words, sounded strained, almost panicked. “You boys just get back?”

“Yeah, a moment ago. Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh… I got a call. A dead sheep has been found up on the moor. Not just dead. Mutilated. Like a wild animal attack.”

An unpleasant feeling wormed its way under Matthew’s skin and his stomach flipped. “Oh?” He paused, then figured he had nothing to gain by not saying the next words he wanted to. “You don’t think it was us?”

The vicar’s gasp was instant, one of genuine surprise. “Lord, no! Absolutely not. I just phoned to let you know and I was wondering if you’d come up there with me and take a look? You and Isaac are probably more qualified than anyone else in the village to tell what did this.”

“Isaac has to work, he just went to get ready. But yes, I’ll come up. I’ll let my brother know where I’m going, then I’ll be straight over. Are you at the rectory?”

“Yes. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Matthew. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Matthew hung up the phone with another sigh. The horrible feeling that had crept under his skin and taken over his gut seemed as if it was there to stay, and it was never a good sign. The vicar’s news was surprising, yes, but he also had an inkling that it was going to spell trouble, or at the very least, inconvenience for him and his brother.

Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his jangling nerves, Matthew walked upstairs and toward his brother’s bedroom. The door was closed. He knocked. “You decent?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, “close enough.”

Stepping into the room, Matthew looked at his brother. He was half-dressed, ready for his shift at the doctor’s surgery, where he was a general practitioner. “Sorry to interrupt, mate, but that was Richard on the phone. They’ve found a mutilated sheep up on the moor, and he’s asked me to go with him to check it out.”

Isaac paused with one arm pushed into his shirtsleeve. “He doesn’t think—”

Matthew cut him off. “No. He was quite adamant about that. He just thought we’d be able to help figure out what did it. I explained that you’ve got to go to work, though. I’m going to head across there now and go up with him.”

“I could phone in, let them know I’ll be late.”

Matthew held up his hand. “There’s no need, brother. Relax. Just go to work and help the sick people. I’ll let you know what—if anything—I find out.”

Opening his mouth, then closing it again, Isaac seemed to have thought better of whatever he was going to say. He continued to dress. “All right, I will. But make sure you let me know what happens. Send me a text or something, and I’ll phone you as soon as I have a gap in between patients.”

Matthew grimaced. He hated texting. Hated mobile phones, actually. Technology was one of the things he disliked most about modern-day life, though he realized it was a necessary evil. It solved as many problems for him and his brother as it created, so he dealt with it as best he could. Fortunately, Isaac had always had an affinity with computers and phones, so he tutored Matthew.

“Yeah, all right. I’d better go and find my phone first then, eh?”

Smirking at his brother’s rolled eyes, he left the room and headed for his own bedroom, where he thought he’d left the device the previous night before he and Isaac had headed for the caves. Immediately spotting the mobile phone—which Isaac often made a point of telling him was akin to a brick—he grabbed it, stuffed it into his pocket, and made his way downstairs.

Retrieving his keys from the hook by the front door, he called up to his brother. “I’m going now, Isaac. I’ll see you after my shift at the pub. I’m working until closing time.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me posted!”

“I won’t.” As if he could forget. The dead sheep was going to be a big thing, he just knew it. The vicar might not think he and his brother had anything to do with it, but some of the other villagers might. When there was no proof either way, just his and Isaac’s word, it was understandable, really. Since he and his brother changed into wolves every full moon, it was a natural conclusion to draw. Particularly since normal wolves had been extinct in England for over five hundred years.

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*****

Lucy_FelthouseAuthor 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) and Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 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 and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

One Night in Manchester by Victoria Blisse Now Available!

Internet romance on the page and in real life!

 

OneNightinManchesterbyVictoriaBlisse-500One night in Manchester is essentially the story of how two people who met on the internet get to spend just one day and night together.

The story is entirely made up but I was inspired by part of my own life story.

Back in 1998 I met my now husband in a little chat room on the internet. It was affectionately known as Doug’s and a friend from college had given me the link. I spent a lot of my free time at uni there, chatting to people from all around the world.

When Kev first showed up I apparently ignored him, well, I had my own group of online mates and although I’d heard rumours I didn’t think Kev was anything special.

At the end of my chat I was saying my goodbyes and Kev wrote

*pinches your bottom on the way out*

And I blushed all the way home! From there on we got chatting, rang each other on the phone and after a few weeks met for the first time in the flesh. It was amazing.

And now, we’re king and queen of smut living our happily ever after together. Awww.

I won’t tell you if Jessica and Grant get a happily ever after but they do have a scorching hot day and night together. Here’s how they met.

 

One Night in Manchester Excerpt:

I calm myself while I wait for the door button to flash green. Pressing it, I continue to scan up and down the platform but the only person in sight is the pensioner. Walking through the newly opened doors I step gingerly along the platform, still looking for him. Surely I’ll recognise him. He’s not shy. His Facebook picture is himself – selfies taken on nights out and such. Or at least that’s what he’s told me.

I’m wracking my brain to remember what it’s called when someone pretends to be someone else online for personal gain. Could Grant be a catfish? It doesn’t seem likely—what would be in it for him? I’m not exactly rich and I’m certainly not a celebrity.

Oh, dear God in heaven, it’s not Nigel from Sales, is it?

I’m so caught up in the possible horror of being all pally pally with Nigel the knobhead who hits on me at work in the most skin-crawlingly creepy way, that I walk slap bang into someone.

“Sorry,” I gasp, then realise I’ve walked straight into the supporting pole of a tourist map. I step back and furtively glance around.

“Jess, are you okay?”

Oh great, Grant is here and the first thing he sees is me walking blithely into an inanimate object. Fabulous first impression.

“Grant?” I ask, looking towards the soft, lilting voice.

“The one and only. Are you okay?” His hand is on my arm and I’m looking up into the brightest, bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, surrounded by the face I know from so many party selfies.

“Yeah.” I shrug and giggle, trying to cover my blushes. “Told you I’m clumsy.”

“Yeah, you called it.” He grins and I melt.

Dear God, how can anyone have such a perfect smile? He’s actually hotter than I thought.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks, running a thumb across my forehead and brushing a loose curl off my face.

“Oh, nothing more than my pride.” I chuckle again, my cheeks getting hotter by the second.

“Well in that case, then—hello, Jess, it’s great to finally meet you.”

“And you, Grant,” I reply. Before I catch my breath he’s wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. I cling to him. He’s warm and hard and smells of pine and the great outdoors. I don’t want to let him go. His well-trimmed beard presses against my cheek and his hands rest confidently in the small of my back. Embarrassment and panic melt away and I let myself relax into his embrace.

Standing here all day, just wrapped up in him, listening to his gentle breathing and feeling his strong arms around me would be a dream come true. I could close my eyes and forget the world. I feel safe and secure and content, even if there is a bubbling of something disturbing in the pit of my stomach. It is, in a strange kind of way, quite a pleasant feeling, this one of arousal, but it’s not one I’m allowed to give in to.

He pulls back, leaving his hands resting on my hips, then leans in and kisses my cheek. Now I’m back to full-on flustered, the imprint of his lips burning hot against my skin.

“It’s so very good to see you, Jess. You look amazing.”

“Oh, thanks.” Looking down between us in my shyness, I try to catch my breath, but realise it looks like I’m staring at his crotch so lift my gaze again. He appears decidedly amused at my discomfort. “You’re very handsome yourself.”

“Well, thank you.” He inclines his head graciously like a gentleman of old and I blush even more. My cheeks must look like ripe apples, the heat they’re generating.

“Wanna come see where I’ve been working?” Grant asks, stepping to the side, leaving one hand on me. I’m very aware of its size, its weight, its possessive position on my body.

“S-sure, yeah, why not?”

“Okay then; you’ll need this.” He finally releases me, dipping his right hand into his jeans pocket and pulling it out again, complete with a pass on a lanyard. He pulls it open and slides it over my head, smoothing it down my chest. Anyone else doing something so intimate would creep me out, but it’s Grant. Maybe it’s an indication that he likes me the way I like him. Surely you don’t make an excuse to touch someone’s chest unless you’re attracted to them, or maybe he just doesn’t trust me to do it myself. I did just walk slap bang into a post, after all. That might be a more realistic explanation.

 

One Night in Manchester Blurb:

After a flirty online relationship, Grant meets Jessica in Manchester.

He works in TV and he shows Jessica around the set where he’s filming. Their relationship quickly escalates and they have sex…on one of the sets! As things develop, so does their love play. In public places! And a little spanking never really hurt anyone.

Will Jessica be able to say goodbye to Grant when his work is done?

 

 

Buy One Night in Manchester Here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01I2BS72Q//ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=sexy00-21

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01I2BS72Q//ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=sexy00-21

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/one-night-in-manchester

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/648625

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-in-manchester/id1131686070?mt=11

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-manchester-victoria-blisse/1124074104

 

About Victoria:

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Author and all 11731759_10154039766657786_3868193766871696713_oround Cheeky Wench. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut AlfrescoSmut by the Sea (Vol.1)Smut by the Sea (Vol.2)Smut by the Sea (Vol.3), and Smut in the City Anthologies.

She is the mistress of Smut UK putting on Smut Events, Days & Evenings dedicated to erotica, socializing, fun and prizes. Check out Smut NightsSmut by the Sea: Scarborough, and Smut Manchester for more info.

Born near Manchester, England, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook , Twitter and Pinterest

 

 

 

The Tutor Now Available for Preorder

The-Tutor-KD-Grace_PromoSquare_PreOrder_final

 

The Tutor is now available for preorder!

 

There’s much rejoicing and happy dancing at Grace Manor! Who knew that a workshop writing prompt of a can of pears in heavy syrup and a mysterious summon to the storeroom of the local grocery store could lead to a full-length novel only a short month and a half later. Yup! That was the strange inspiration for The Tutor, and now less than a year after Kay Jaybee’s fabulous writing workshop at Smut Manchester inspired me, the novel is officially available for pre-order on Amazon and at the Totally Bound website, proving that sometimes when things go pear-shaped, it’s a good thing.

 

Now’s your chance be the first on your block to learn how a tin of pears changes the world forever for reclusive sculptor, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine and Kelly Blake – a struggling writer secretly moonlighting as a sex tutor. Here’s the blurb! Here are the links! And here is a sexy excerpt! Read! Enjoy! And pre-order the whole sexy, romantic read – pears and all!

 

Preorder The Tutor Now:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

TB Website

 

 

The Tutor Blurb:

When physical touch is impossible, intimacy may become a powerful work of art or a devastating nightmare—but, above all, it’s an act of trust.

Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first-ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues. The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.

 

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The Tutor Excerpt:

 

“Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.

 

“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know — down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”

 

“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”

 

He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met.

 

“You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”

 

With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her palm to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”

 

Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”

 

“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.

 

“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”

 

“What do you like?” His words were a labored rasp against the back of his throat, and

 

Kelly found herself stunned by the question, and way more aroused than she wanted to be. He shouldn’t have asked. She should have answered. But she did.

 

“I like it this way.” She shifted her hips and opened a little further so he could see her thrust and scissor, circle and probe technique, and her body responded with the tight grip and release of muscle memory.

 

“Jesus,” he whispered moving forward on the sofa and leaning closer for a better look. “And when someone uses their tongue?”

 

She caught her breath in a giddy laugh. “Afraid I can’t tell you what I do since, sadly I’m not that flexible.”

 

“But you can tell me what you like.” His voice had gone rough.

 

“I like the flat of the tongue to part me and then probe me, circle my clit and then kiss and suck.” She closed her eyes, finding it difficult to meet his gaze when she spoke about something so intimate, so secret. Come to think of it, she’d never had a man actually ask her how she liked it. The few who had given a rat’s ass about her pleasure had been happy enough to let her order them about, but never quite got the hang of it.

 

It was the loud schussing sound that caused her to open her eyes. Lex had moved the coffee table out of the way paying no attention to the slosh of pear juice all over the towel V had spread. His eyes were locked on Kelly as he fished out his own pear half and fell to his knees in front of her. When she realized what the man was about to do she dropped the pear she’d been holding with a little gasp of surprise and scooted as far back in the chair as she could. He knelt low, holding the pear in the cup of his hand, as she had, placing it against the edge of the chair between her legs! She gave a little yelp and scrambled back in the chair still further, spreading her thighs over the rise of the chair arms to keep from touching him. He moved forward, the back of his hand so close to her crotch that she could feel the heat of it, and he lowered himself still further until his hair nearly brushed the insides of her thighs. Then, still looking up at her from his position on the floor, he began at the bottom of the open pear half and ran his tongue flat and undulating all the way up, flicking in just slightly in a little circle at the top end before he closed his lips around the apex and she could hear the slurp and suck of the sweet syrup.

 

“Oh! Lex! Ah!” And then she went non-verbal, holding her breath, tightening muscles deep inside her body, the only muscles she dared to move if she were to keep from touching him. She raised both arms and fisted her hands in a suicide grip around the back of the chair to keep from curling them in his hair. Her thighs trembled from her efforts to keep her legs on the chair arms and not throw them over his shoulders for leverage. She didn’t move. She didn’t breath as he licked and nuzzled and suckled until pear juice ran down his chin and onto his tee-shirt, until his face was damp and sticky, until his forehead was sheened with perspiration, and still he held her gaze as though they were locked together in each other’s orbit neither able to move without the other’s consent.

 

“Oh God, I’m gonna come.” She barely managed a warning when his own convulsion brought him dangerously near her body. He had stopped breathing, she was sure of it. She practically climbed the back of the chair to keep from touching him as he lost control. Then with a tremendous gasp of oxygen, he straightened, let the pear fall from his hand onto the aubusson carpet and looked up at her.

 

“I’m going to pass out.” And he did.

 *****

Early Download (on the TB website): 13th September

 

General Release: 11th October

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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