Tag Archives: erotic romance

Lily Harlem Shares Her Experiences in Self-Publishing

Interviews, , , , , ,

Self-publishing, which used to be the kiss of death for a writer, is now coming into its own in ways no one would have thought possible even five years ago. It’s my pleasure to have a writer who has had success in both traditional publishing and now in self-publishing. Please welcome the very talented Lily Harlem.

KD: Lily, you have critically acclaimed works out by multiple publishers, what inspired you to try the self-publishing route?

LH: Hi K D, first of all thanks so much for having me here today, it’s always great to come and hang out with you.

Self-publishing, okay, well I got the initial idea from a lecture at Eroticon 2012 – http://writesexright.com/eroticon-2013/  given by the very lovely M K Elliot – http://www.steamyspice.blogspot.co.uk –  (I’m still lusting after the fantastic scarlet stilettoes she wore that day. Wow!). She talked about self-publishing at Amazon and the success she’s had with this way of telling her stories. Yes, there are ups and downs, positives and negatives, and certainly there’s a lot of work involved. You, as the author, have to do everything, but still, she didn’t put me off and I decided to have a go. I should say at this point that M K was a wonderful help during my first steps and completely okay with me firing off emails with ‘silly’ questions. Thanks M K 🙂

 

KD: Tell us how the experience has been for you.

LH: Fun, stressful, liberating, worrisome, rewarding, hard work and incredibly satisfying!

 

KD: Now that you’ve experienced both traditional publishing and self-publishing, can you give our readers a comparison of the two.

LH: I’m definitely glad that my introduction into the world of publishing was through a traditional publisher who held my hand every step of the way. All I had to do was write, they did the cover art, worked with the edits, sorted out the copyright jargon and did a big chunk of the marketing. They took me on the wild ride that is publishing your first book without any of the stress!

Self-publishing is definitely not for the faint hearted. You have to be brave and just go for it! Certainly you have to believe in the story you’re publishing, which is where some great beta readers, who are honest and critical, become worth their weight in gold! With self-publishing there’s no editor saying “you can’t write that” or “this would never happen”. To these points sometimes I agree, other times not so much, self-publishing is all your own choice—every single word, action of the characters and twist in the plot. So yes, confidence has to play a part in self-publishing, and I don’t think I would have had the confidence if I hadn’t gone down the traditional route first.

 

KD: Who would you recommend self-publishing to, as far as writers go?

L H: Writers who’ve already been published traditionally so they have an understanding of the process. Plus if you already have a name as an author, and people have read and enjoyed your books, they’re more likely to pick up your self-published one.

 

KD:  With the rise in ePublishing the stigma that was always attached to self-publishing seems to be rapidly disappearing. Why do you think that is?

LH: It’s great that the stigma is going, it means everyone gets a chance to not only tell their story, but everyone also has a chance to read it. In regards to why that stigma is lifting, I think it’s because some really good quality authors are putting work out there, M K Elliot being just one who springs to mind. At one time self-published books were regarded as poor works, badly edited, things no traditional publisher would touch with a barge pole. But not any more, established authors can use self-publishing as a way of cutting out the middle-man and being free to write what and how they want to. I don’t think it will ever take over, but it is certainly establishing its place in the world of publishing.

 

KD: What’s the hardest part of self-publishing? The best part?

LH: The hardest part, definitely the editing process. Despite having my latest release The Glass Knot beta read by two separate partners, I still found a few spelling mistakes/misplaced words on my last read through, and then I thought ‘I better read it again’ and I found another two! ‘Damn, better read the whole 60,000 words over’ – I send myself slightly nuts doing that! But eventually I have to hit that publish button! I’m sure the fact that I switch between the US dictionary and the UK dictionary, depending on which publisher I’m writing for, sends my brain a bit squiffy sometimes!!

 

KD: Now that you’ve experienced traditional and self-publishing, could you share with us your insights. What stands out about the experience?

LH: One of the most useful things I’ve been able to do with self-publishing is offer readers a chunk of another one or even two of my books at the end. Rather than just an excerpt I’ve added full chapters. This way they can see if they fancy reading it. Also if the book that’s just been read is of a particular sub-genre, ménage a trois for example, I’ve been able to list and link my other ménage books. I’ve found this a really useful part of the experience and I hope readers like it too.

 

KD: What about sales? How do your self-publishing sales compare with those of your works that have been traditionally published?

LH: The amount of books I sell is pretty much the same, the main difference being with self-publishing, because the royalties are higher, I can sell a book cheaper and make the same amount per book as I would if it was being sold through a publisher. I can also track my sales easier with self-publishing, so I know if any promotional work I’ve done that week has had a direct result on the book selling.

 

KD: Any advice for people who are considering self-publishing for their own works?

LH: You need to have a good set of people around you to help out with cover art, editing and beta reading, I’m incredibly lucky to be good friends and write with Natalie Dae who, in her day job is a cover artist and has edited in the past too. If you’re not a US resident you have to sort out a tax-exempt number with the IRS which can be a bit of a fiddle, but well worth it. Plus be patient with yourself, know that it will take time, but when it’s all done, the feeling is great. M K was good enough to help me on the first time round, and I’m happy to pass that on and answer any questions either here or through my website.

 

Thanks so much for inviting me, K D, it’s been great 😉

Lily x

 

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/lily_harlem

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

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

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

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

 

Lily Harlem

 

Self-published books

 

The Glass KnotThe Glass Knot

What’s a girl to do when the guy she falls for is married to another man?

This is exactly what happened to me. Seeing Josh Kendal stroll out of the Mediterranean Sea wearing tight navy swim trunks and looking like a hot new James Bond was a truly delicious moment. Catching sight of his wedding ring was like a kick in the shin and meeting his gorgeous husband, phew, that was enough to make any girl groan at the cruel joke God was playing on her.

But all was not as it seemed, and when Josh needed a woman to sort out a ‘delicate predicament’ I was the one for the job – heck, what did I have to lose? Certainly not as much as him, literally.

Trouble is, emotions always get tangled, loyalties can’t help but be divided and with a night of memories so hot they’d have the devil sweating, there was only one thing for it—it was time to get honest, fight for what I wanted despite society’s constraints and open my heart to the people it needed most.

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009OR4LDW

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Glass-Knot-ebook/dp/B009OR4LDW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1350135893&sr=8-1

 

ScoredScored

Okay, so I eat, sleep and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what’s not to lust after?

So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England’s battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate’s attention my way, who am I to say no?

Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, its clear no one else will ever compare.

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Scored-ebook/dp/B0085MQSA6/ref=sr_1_14?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350135948&sr=1-14

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/Scored-ebook/dp/B0085MQSA6/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1337925243&sr=8-3

 

Good Cop, Bad CopGood Cop, Bad Cop

Fame and fortune is a blessing that, for me, has changed its taste from sumptuously sweet to murderously bitter. Leaving me no choice but to look over my shoulder at every turn and question the scruples of even my most faithful friends.

I would give up all the glowing adoration from my fans in a heartbeat in exchange for not running for my life. But fate doesn’t deal cards that way, and instead I find myself far out at sea and being bounced between two hot cops—one so chilly just his glance gives me frostbite, and the other showing a kindness that barely covers his own demons.

So with nowhere else to turn, quite literally, I have to trust two men I hardly know with my life and cope without the luxuries my status usually affords me. But it’s not long before I discover when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Turns out these cops are not only the wrong guys to mess with, they also have partnership skills above and beyond the requirements of their day job. And for once, while just being me without the frills, I get to discover that they are as sinfully bad as they are dreamily good in every department, and it seems, I am the one they want cuffed and controlled at the same time as they are protecting and serving.

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/Good-Cop-Bad-ebook/dp/B0095WD3KI/ref=sr_1_17?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350136139&sr=1-17

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Good-Cop-Bad-ebook/dp/B0095WD3KI/ref=sr_1_11?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350135941&sr=1-11

 

MoreMore

An erotic short story. When a woman wants to experiment, how does she ask for more?

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/More-ebook/dp/B008UW2PR6/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350136920&sr=1-7

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/More-ebook/dp/B008UW2PR6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350135981&sr=1-1

New Release: Angel Laird Vampire Wife by Suz De Mello

Guest Blogger, New Releases, , , , , ,

Angel Laird Vampire WifeEdgar, Laird MacReiver, had never regretted his decision to wed Isobel, daughter of Clan Kilburn’s laird…until she bit his tongue and drank his blood. Will tying her hands, spanking her rump and making her come tame the wild child of the infamous vampire clan?

Or are some women too dangerous to tame?

Available from:

http://tinyurl.com/VampireWife  (USA)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Angel-Vampire-Kilburn-Vampires-ebook/dp/B009PUR0F4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350417531&sr=1-1       (UK)

http://www.amazon.de/Angel-Vampire-Kilburn-Vampires-ebook/dp/B009PUR0F4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350417680&sr=1-1    (Germany)

http://www.amazon.fr/Angel-Laird-Vampire-Wife-ebook/dp/B009PUR0F4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350418187&sr=1-1   (France)

 

*****

Chapter One

Kilburn Castle, Scotland

1766

Some said that Edgar, Laird MacReiver, had made a deal with the devil. And not just an ordinary deal, for he’d agreed to marry the devil’s daughter.

Lacking a superstitious cast of mind, he’d never regretted his decision to ally with Clan Kilburn until this moment. Atop the battlements, he disregarded the noontime sun glittering over the sea, the fresh spring breeze off the water and the white clouds scudding through the sky. Instead, he watched the scene below him.

Down in the castle courtyard, a young woman struggled with a horse. Not just any young woman. She’d been betrothed to him before her birth. And not just any horse. Isobel, now eighteen, grasped the bridle of Ranger, a buckskin stallion, the pride and joy of Edgar’s heart.

She wrestled with a reluctant Ranger before swinging long legs clad in trews over the steed’s back. Clinging to his mane, she somehow kept her seat while the stallion curvetted and spun. Her hat flew off and her braid loosened, the black hair whipping ‘round as Ranger sought to dislodge her.

Another neigh and a leap before the horse dashed out of the open gate. His hooves clattered on the drawbridge as he galloped over the moat. Isobel clung to his back like a flea unwilling to give up its perch on a dog.

“I ordered her not to ride Ranger,” Edgar said with some disbelief and more resentment. “He’s too big for her. And he’s young, not quite broken. The only rider he tolerates is me.”

“Our Isobel is a bold horsewoman.” Kieran Kilburn cocked a dark brow at Edgar. “She doesna like to admit that there’s a steed on this earth that she canna master.”

Though nearing his fiftieth year, the Kilburn chieftain hadn’t sprouted even one gray hair. No wrinkles marred his smooth, unusually white skin, save those that were the product of his constant smile. All the Kilburns shared the same traits: tall and strong, with midnight black hair and eyes. In comparison Edgar often had felt like a little white mouse, at least until he grew and the lassies started to take an interest in his fair hair and blue eyes. Then he’d realized that his different looks were an advantage.

An advantage, that is, with everyone but Isobel.

“She obeys you.” The wind loosened the leather thong tying Edgar’s hair at the nape. He tightened it. “Why not me?”

Kier’s eyes twinkled. “She obeys me, laddie, because I punish her when she does not.”

“May I borrow your Dash?” Frowning, Edgar turned to descend into the courtyard with Kieran following.

“Aye, but don’t count on Dash to catch his son.”

“We’ll do our best. Thank you, sir.” He handed his blue jacket to a guard and mounted the buckskin. “I go now to find my bride. I hope she’ll return suitably chastened.”

With a shrug, Kier folded his arms over his chest. “Ye ken what ye have to do.”

* * * * *

Edgar caught up with Isobel and Ranger in the forest. The horse now ambled rather than raced, the trees bordering the meadow surrounding the castle having slowed his flight. Edgar eased Dash into a walk and splashed through a brook while watching Ranger manage Isobel.

The stallion apparently decided that he no longer would tolerate even Isobel’s light weight and proceeded to use a low-hanging branch to scrape her off. She landed flat on her back with a grunt. Ranger headed toward the stream and the new green grass beside it, thank the gods, instead of trampling the silly wench under his hooves.

Her laughter could be heard even from several yards away. “La! What a ride! I’ll tame that mount yet.” She sat up and rubbed her back.

Still on horseback, Edgar towered over her. “The only mount who needs taming is you. No harm done, milady?” He was pleased that he kept a mild tone of voice, because inside he was seething.

“None.” She smiled up at him, her black eyes twinkling through the curtain of her lashes.

Bewitching, but he hardened his heart, determined that he’d not be led by the nose. He didn’t like managing females, and if he allowed her to rule him now, she’d rule him forever. “Whatever possessed you to steal Ranger?”

“I didn’t steal Ranger. I borrowed him.”

“Against my express wishes. If your clumsiness has harmed him, Isobel—”

“My clumsiness?” She leapt to her feet.

He gave her a long, cool stare before turning away. He chirruped to Ranger, who raised his head from the sweet grass by the stream. Still chewing, he walked sedately to Edgar.

He dismounted to caress his horse’s forehead before running his hands along the neck and body. Something hot and red billowed in Isobel’s chest. What was it? ‘Twas the same uncomfortable feeling she got when her younger brothers or sisters claimed too much of their parents’ attention. The same horrible emotion that overcame her when other lassies dared to flirt with Edgar…which happened more frequently than she liked.

Jealousy.

She was jealous of the attention Edgar was giving to a horse. A horse.

Bloody hell.

Removing his gloves, Edgar slid expert fingers up and down each of Ranger’s legs, paying particular attention to the delicate fetlocks.

She wondered how those long, tanned, strong fingers would feel if he touched her. When he finally touched her. So far he’d kept his distance even though they were affianced, a fact which she both liked and resented.

He straightened with a sigh. “No harm done. You were lucky this time, my girl.”

“Your girl? Since when am I your girl?”

He led the horse back to the stream and dropped the reins.  Ranger drank placidly. Standing in the water with tail a’swish, he seemed completely unlike the wild beast she’d sought to tame. Dash joined him.

Edgar eyed the horses, then eyed her. “You’ve been mine since before you were born.”

“I mislike your manner, sir. I am yet unmarried. I belong to no man.”

“You belong to me.” He returned, looming over her, tall and blond and impossibly beautiful. The Angel Laird, the lassies called him. Well, they could have him.

“I willna be ordered. I willna be treated as though I’m a possession.”

He took her by the shoulders. “But you are.”

His mouth descended on hers while one hand seized the back of her head, holding her fast. She couldna resist, and didna want to, for she’d yearned for this moment.

*****

Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she’s working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.

Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.

 

The Story Behind In His House of Submission by Justine Elyot

Guest Blogger, , , , , , , ,

The Story Behind The Story

 

It’s a pleasure to have back as my guest on The Story Behind the Story one of my very favourite writers and an all-around fab person, Justine Elyot. Welcome back, Justine!

 

Consuming Passions?

Here I am, taking shameless advantage of K D’s hospitality again, with a Mischief Petite Novel to tell you about.

It’s October now and the leaves are on the ground, but for this story we have to revisit the summer. I hope yours was a good one. Sarah’s certainly was.

In His House of Submission, history graduate Sarah Wells has taken a summer job archiving the antique treasures at the substantial home of famous film director, Jasper Jay. From the start, they have a shared passion – they both love things that have a past.

That’s not the only interest they have in common either, as Sarah soon finds out when she stumbles across his vast collection of BDSM paraphernalia.

Are the passions that bind them together strong enough to withstand other forces in their lives that conspire to keep them apart, though? Here’s an excerpt:

I presented myself for breakfast in the kitchen in my usual long skirt and top-and-scarf combo. He stopped me before I sat down and asked me to show him my underwear.

I almost asked why, but checked myself in time. Instead, I silently pulled up my top and then lifted my skirt, my pulse racing. Despite the soreness below, I felt ready to take more of him, tingling with the shameful joy of submission.

‘Too much,’ he said. ‘Go upstairs and take it off. You aren’t going to need underwear for the next six weeks. Unless I ask you to wear it. Go on, then.’ He waved the spatula at me. I could imagine that being quite a useful spanking implement.

When I came back down, he beckoned me over to the counter, where he was buttering toast. With his other hand, he felt my breasts through the thin cotton top, rubbing at my nipples until they stood out through the fabric, bullet-hard and unmistakable. When that was done to his satisfaction, he lifted my skirt and checked for the presence of knickers. Finding none, he rewarded me with a luscious, filthy, grope-filled snog.

‘Sit down,’ he said, sliding eggs on to the toast before sorting out more coffee. ‘But you have to raise your skirt. I want your bare bottom touching the seat. And you can lift up your top too. And keep your legs wide apart.’

Sitting like that, with my top bunched over the top of my breasts and my thighs split while the varnished wooden seat chilled my bare bum, I couldn’t escape the reality of my submission. It was profound and absolute, and it was going to touch every aspect of my daily life.

Jasper watched me, smiling slyly, as he dug into his breakfast. I could barely touch mine, my appetite killed by the overwhelming presence of sex in the air around me, touching my skin, feeding itself into me.

‘Eat up,’ he said, pointing at my plate with his knife. ‘You need it, girl. I’ve plans for you.’

It was an order. I had to obey.

I made a decent attempt at eating my eggs, but the toast stuck in my throat. The coffee didn’t help, so strong it gave me jitters. I spilled a drop and it landed on my nipple, making me gasp and almost make a sound. But I managed not to.

Jasper tutted and dabbed my nipple with some kitchen roll, for much longer than was strictly necessary. Then he kissed it better.

Dropping down between my knees, he had a good long look at my widespread pussy, prodding at it until I winced.

‘That’s a well-fucked pussy,’ he diagnosed. ‘Swollen and red, it is. I think we’ll have to take it a bit easy today. But there are lots of things we can do that don’t involve the old in-out. Aren’t there?’

He raised flashing eyes to me.

I bit my lip and made a gesture intended to convey the phrase, ‘You tell me.’

He smiled. ‘So much to learn.’

 

If you want to know what Sarah learns from – and teaches – Jasper, here’s some more information.

Justine Elyot His House of SubmissionHe’s a collector with some kinky interests on the side. She’s here to catalogue his possessions. But will she end up being one of them?

Sarah turns up at Jasper Jay’s country house thinking she has been hired to make an inventory of his large collection of historical artefacts. But when she and her lover, Will, are caught by the boss sneaking a peek at some of his more private pieces, she starts to suspect an ulterior motive. Alone with Jasper Jay in his secluded manor, Sarah finds herself enthralled by the enigmatic collector, especially given the intimate interest she shares with him. Pretty soon, they’re entangled in an intense relationship of domination and submission that excludes the rest of the world. Until it intrudes, in the form of a vengeful Will, bent on exposing everything his erstwhile boss has worked so hard to keep secret.

It’s available right now in all the best e-formats from Mischief Books: http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/his-house-submission/

Thanks to KD for having me again! And thanks to everyone for reading.

A Kiss in the Dark Can Lead to Hot Sex, Magic and Free Goodies!

Blog, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When I was a kid it was always a contest to see who would have the most goodies in the Trick-or-Treat bag for Halloween. Well Blisse Kiss After Dark will guarantee full goodie bags for anyone who likes their treats on the spicy, extra naughty side. Victoria Blisse and Kevin Mitnik are forever coming up with fabulous ways to share great erotica and help us all celebrate sex. And how could they resist paranormal erotic fun for the season. Halloween is nearly upon us and who wouldn’t want a steamy kiss in the dark and all the goodies that could lead to.

I’m all about goodies and kisses and since I’m launching book two of my paranormal erotic Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, Riding the Ether, I’m celebrating by giving away free downloads of the first novel, Body Temperature and Rising, on Amazon and in iTunes. Hot ghosts and witches, demons and sex magic all yours for the downloading. That’s a great start for filling anyone’s goodie bag with nasty steamy paranormal fun.

And since we’re talking magic and paranormal fun, I’m going to add that extra bit of yumminess by giving away an eBook copy of my magical, voyeuristic romp in the veg patch, Allotted Views. Comment for a chance to win.

Here’s a hot kiss in a dark cave excerpt from Body Temperature and Rising to start my naughty Kiss in the Dark celebration. Don’t forget, this full-length novel is now free to download on Amazon Kindle and iTunes. Links are below.  All my way of celebrating the launch of book two, Riding the Ether, now available on Kindle and soon to be in print. Enjoy! Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain!

Blurb for Body Temperature and Rising:

American transplant to the Lake District, MARIE WARREN, didn’t know she could unleash demons and enflesh ghosts until a voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with the charming ghost, ANDERSON, and night visits from a demon. To help her cope with her embarrassing and dangerous new abilities, Anderson brings her to the ELEMENTALS, a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that temporarily allows needy ghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and will stop at nothing to destroy all she holds dear. Marie and her landlord, the reluctant young farmer, TIM MERIWETHER, are at the top of his list. Marie and Tim must learn to wield coven magic and the numinous power of their lust to stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and more innocent people die.

Excerpt:

‘I lost my compass,’ she said.

‘I’m very sorry to hear that,’ he replied.

Almost before she knew it they were descending. ‘Not to worry,’ he spoke close to Marie’s ear. ‘I am as familiar with these fells as I am my own face. Once we are safely down to Grange, Tara will be waiting for us.’

He made no attempt to explain who Tara was, nor did he introduce himself. That was her first clue that he might have been aware of her voyeuristic escapade.

‘We shall be down very quickly,’ he added, turning his face into the storm.

But they weren’t.

The weather worsened to a downpour. Bent double in the wind, Marie was soaked to the skin and shivering by the time Anderson pulled her into a cave that she hadn’t even seen until they were safe inside. He took her just deep enough to be out of the weather, but not beyond the reach of daylight.

‘We shall wait out the storm here.’ He offered her a smile and gestured around the cave, which she could now see was a disused quarry. ‘There are lots of caves and quarries around the Lake District,’ He said. ‘Some are fenced off for the protection of curious tourists, and others, such as this one are unknown to but a few.’

‘And your girl friend, won’t she be worried?’

The tolerant smile he offered made her aware of her mistake. ‘Tara knows what I would do in such weather.’ Then he added, ‘Though she is very dear to me, Tara is not my girlfriend.’

Before she could say anything he chuckled softly. ‘I know that you saw us together, and there’s no need to apologize. Neither of us was upset that you enjoyed our love making. In fact we rather hoped it would please you. Besides one must certainly expect such encounters when one chooses the middle of a well-travelled path for a rendezvous. Now remove your shirt for me, please.’

When she balked, he added. ‘You’re cold and wet. I only wish to make you more comfortable and prevent you catching your death.’ He had already shed his jacket and handed it to her. She was astonished to find it completely dry. ‘You may wear this.’

When she made no effort to put it on, he sighed and scooted closer to her. ‘Please, we must get you dry and warm.’ He unzipped her anorak and pushed it off her shoulders, then tugged the hem of her shirt out of her trousers. His hands were unbelievably warm grazing her bare skin. She lifted her arms, and he slid the wet shirt off over her head, then he reached behind her to unhook her bra while his other hand deftly dispatched with the buttons of his black shirt. ‘Now please, put this on.’ He slid the jacket around her shoulders like a blanket, shoved his shirt open and pulled her against him.

She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed such a natural thing to slide her arms around him, beneath his shirt, which was as dry as the jacket. As she settled in close, his chest expanded against her bare breasts, and his breath hitched.

‘You are freezing. I think you very much need my body heat.’

‘And you seem to have lots of it to offer,’ she spoke between chattering teeth, suddenly very aware of the gouge of her tightly puckered nipples against his warm chest.

He laughed softly, and she felt the deep low rumble of it clear through her centre. ‘My dear, you’re welcome to as much heat as I’m able to generate.’

The urge was overpowering. She rose on her haunches and kissed him. Out of the clear blue, she just lifted her mouth to his as though it were hers to take, as though she owned it. And he responded in complete acceptance to her possession, warm lips yielding, encouraging, inviting, making room for the flick of her tongue, welcoming her with the flick of his own.

‘You taste of her,’ she whispered when she came up for breath.

He cupped her face in a large hand and ran a callused thumb over her bottom lip. ‘But her taste pleases you, does it not?’

She nodded. ‘I can see why it pleased you so much.’ She was suddenly, painfully aware of her brazenness. What the hell was the matter with her behaving this way with a man who was, for all practical purposes, a total stranger?

She was about to apologize when he pulled her hand to his lips and suckled her fingers, the ones that had been in her panties not all that long ago. He held her in a gaze deeper than the quarry that now protected them. ‘Your taste also pleases me. Even more so than I imagined.

The thought made her snatch tense with delight. ‘You imagined my taste?’

‘Of course I did, but experiencing the aftertaste of someone’s pleasure, though nice, is never as enjoyable as tasting for oneself.’

She had no time to do more than squirm at the heat of his comment before he pulled away to remove her boots and wet socks, lingering to chafe her cold feet between his hands, then he opened her trousers with amazing ease. She lifted her ass as he slid them off, along with her panties, then he settled her onto his lap. ‘Your bottom will not appreciate alighting upon a cold slab of slate,’ he said. He guided her to wrap her legs around his waist and arranged the tale of his shirt to cover them. Then he shifted to better balance himself and offered a soft sigh as his hands slid to her hips.

A quiver of a gasp escaped her throat as she found herself sitting spread and gaping against the erection his trousers clothed, but certainly couldn’t hide. The flash-fire burn below her belly flared again then hummed low and warm as though someone had adjusted the flame. At the sudden shock of it, she buried her face in his shoulder and clenched her teeth to keep from crying out with the startling friction of it

‘I believe my trousers will bear the imprint of your lovely womanhood when the weather clears and we leave this place. Do you mark me as your territory? I am honoured.’

His insinuation made her pussy even slicker, and she was sure he was right. She was making a sticky mess of the front of his trousers. She rubbed herself against him taking in the size of him beneath the soft black fabric, and he grunted hard and shuddered at her efforts. ‘Maybe you should take them off, save embarrassing stains and allow me a little more of that body heat you’re so generous with.’

He offered her a wicked smile. “My dear, my delicate bare bottom is no more fond of sitting on cold slate than yours is, but perhaps we can find an acceptable compromise.’ He ran a hand between them, jostling her slightly in his efforts to open his fly, releasing his cock and heavy balls. The whimper that escaped her lips was involuntary as she pressed upward to renegotiate for space.

He held her gaze. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?

‘Don’t you?’ She raked herself against him once more, and he shuddered

‘I do. Very much.’

She was relieved. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. She didn’t know why that should be. Perhaps it had something to do with the burning ache at her centre that had awakened again and crawled over her sex, up the vertebrates of her spine like an eruption of rising sparks. She scrambled to reposition, her bare feet pressing onto the chilled slate until he lifted her bottom. She tugged at the length of him shifting her hips as his thumb brushed open her pussy lips. ‘Oh my dear, you are very ready, indeed,’ he breathed. ‘Such soft luscious wetness.’

Links for Free Download:

Amazo.co.uk

Amazon.com

iBooks

Remember to comment for the chance to win your free download of Allotted Views.

Just Who is Behind the Smut and Magic ?

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

Smut and Magic

The time is fast approaching! The event I’ve been waiting for since February! Smut and Magic is a launch party times three! I’m honoured to be partying with Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Bliss on Saturday October 27th at Sh! Women’s Store. Lucy and Victoria will be launching Smut in the City, the fabulous new anthology they schemed, dreamed and co-edited. I’ve seen the list of writers included, and all I can say is WOW! A must read!

Smut In The City will be accompanied by Sex Magic in the Lake District, as I launch book two of my Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Riding the Ether. I know from experienc Lucy and Victoria know how to party, and the Ladiez at Sh! — well that goes without saying. There’ll be fun, fizz, filth and magic.

As time grows closer and the three of us plan and scheme naughty reads, yummy giveaways and lots of party fun in general, I thought it would be a great opportunity to intruduce you to my two lovely Partners in Smut and let them give you just a tiny taste of their magic. So please welcome Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse to A Hopeful Romantic!

Victoria Blisse

I never really contemplated becoming an author as an actual proper career plan but I always had it at the top of my list of ‘favourite fantasy jobs I’d love’ just above Physio for Manchester United and paid chocolate taster. How did I get into erotica? I tend to blame my husband.

You see, I had a dream, an erotic dream and that damn dream would not leave me alone so the wise and wonderful husband told me to write it down, so I did. Kev then told me I should post it up on the internet for the world to see, so I did and I continued to post stories for free on literotica.com for many years and still do it now and then just for the nostalgia of it.

So it’s all his fault.

I have a lot of short stories and novellas to my name now. I write for Total-E-Bound, Xcite, HarperCollins Mischief and House of Erotica who are all British based as well as a few American publishers and I will be published with both Sweetmeats and Cleis press in the near future! I also apparently edit anthologies now. I’ve edited several Bigger Briefs Anthologies and Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City with Lucy Felthouse, fellow Northern Bird and partner in crime. I have an average of one book a month released and spend a lot of time on facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse and the like promoting my work. As well as keeping my blog updated http://victoriablisse.co.uk  I’ve also had the pleasure of reading live to audiences and meeting up with other erotica writers in the flesh as it were. I count many of them as good friends, there’s a real sense of community in the erotica and erotic romance (what I write more often than not) worlds. I am always amazed by how supportive my fellow authors can be and I can’t wait to meet up with my pals at Sh! Again for Smut and Magic!

Excerpt from Mad Fer it in Manchester featured in Smut in the City.

We munch on in silence and watch the kids hurtling through the water.

“I don’t know how they do it,” I laugh, “that water must be freezing.”

“Oh, it looks fun to me,” Stuart grins. “And I’m so hot in this damn suit.”

“Yes you are,” I reply without thinking and his smile expands to cover his whole face. I try to find some way of covering up my little slip. “So go on then, I dare you to stand on there with the kiddies.”

“I bet you I can do it and not get wet.”

“How much?”

“Winner gets a kiss.”

Now that sounds like a win-win situation to me.

“You’re on!” I settle back in the grass. He jumps up, pulls off his jacket and drops it to the floor beside me. It smells of him, spicy and fresh. I resist the urge to run the heavy material against my cheek. I carry on watching him and yes, he’s doing it. He’s standing in the middle of the fountain. It’s completely dry now but it’s obviously going to spurt soon. The little kids are laughing nervously, anticipating the cooling jets that will explode beneath them at any minute. I hold my breath. Will he get wet?

“Ha, see!” He taunts as the water shoots up a metre or so away from him, “told you.”

I’m just about to respond when a spout of water comes to my rescue and squirts up directly beside him, showering him in ice cold water.

“You were saying?” I clap my hands in delight.

He just laughs and wipes his wet hair from his eyes. His white shirt is clinging to his chest now and I can see the outline of his nipples and the dip of his bellybutton.

“Come on in, Lauren, the water is fine.”

“No, we need to go get you dry.” I look at my watch. “We’ve only got twenty minutes.”

“Okay, bring me my jacket.”

I stand and walk towards the fountain. He’s perched on the edge and holds out his hand. I pass him the jacket but he grabs hold of me and pulls me towards him. I follow him with a yell, leaping up the step and onto the wet marble top.

“What are you doing?” I squeal, “I’ll get soaked.”

“That’s what I am hoping for.” He spins me round right into the path of one of the jets. I scream as the water soaks through my skirt and my blouse and hits my heated cheeks. It’s icy cold and all my senses jump alive from the shock.

“You little…” Just in time I remember we’re surrounded by kids so I refrain from calling him a nasty name. He laughs, grabs me around the waist and pulls me to him.

“I like you wet,” he whispers, wiping a strand of clinging hair from my face. My gaze stays locked with his and I nervously lick my top lip. He follows the action with the movement of his eyes and then the space between our mouths is only millimetres and suddenly he’s kissing me.

Lucy Felthouse

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Blurb:

Sultry, smouldering sex in the city is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the stifling heat of the London Underground to the crumbling walls of Rome’s Colosseum, Smut in the City has it all. Whatever your interpretation of sultry urban sex, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Lusty couples, horny office workers, hunky bakers and gardeners, tourists and the Mafia are portrayed for your titillation in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Excerpt:

Exiting the Colosseo Metro station, Libby shot a grin at her boyfriend, Ciaran. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding it, do you?”

“Hmm?” Ciaran frowned, then turned his gaze in the direction that Libby was pointing. He gave a sheepish smile. “No, I don’t think we will. Shall we put the map away?”

Libby nodded, and Ciaran spun round so she should take the map and load it into his backpack. Zipping it back up, she patted it twice to signal she was done. Ciaran turned and held out his hand. She took it, and together they took their lives in their hands crossing the busy Roman road and walked to the Colosseum.

Despite the early hour, the queue was already considerable, and the couple exchanged a wry look. But then Libby remembered something. “Hey, don’t look so glum babe. We can skip the queue, remember?”

Ciaran frowned. “We can?”

Pulling a small credit card shaped and sized item from her pocket, she replied, “Yes! Our Roma cards mean we can get in quicker. That was one of the selling points the rep kept going on about when she was trying to flog them to us.”

K D Grace

Me, you already know, so here’s just a touch of magic from book two of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Riding the Ether.

Excerpt:

The therapist straightened in her chair and folded her hands together on top of her desk blotter like she was about to say a prayer. ‘Just get comfortable, Alice, like you normally do when you meditate. That’s it, just relax. Feet flat on the floor. Shoulders soft. Deep, even breaths. And when you’re ready, I want you to go to that place where you meet this man of your imagination, go there just as you are, relaxed, comfortable, unafraid. Go there and just be in that space and just …’

And she was. She was there, surround by, well, surrounded by nothing. Just empty space. How could there be just empty space? But it was alright. Empty space she could handle. Empty space was alright, as long as she was there alone. There was barely time for a mental sigh of relief before her blood chilled in her veins and it was as though a shadow had crossed over her consciousness. She couldn’t hear him, she couldn’t see him, but she knew. Dear Goddess, she knew! He was there.

‘I’ve missed you, my darling. Why have you stayed away so long?’ His voice was in her ear, like he was right behind her, no, more like he was inside her, right there with her. Her skin crawled, like it wanted to escape her flesh. Her throat ached with a scream it couldn’t quite form, a scream for help from Kate. Her nipples were suddenly painful, and she was wet. Oh dear Goddess, she was so wet and swollen. She whimpered desperately and tore at the fly of her trousers.

‘Oh my poor little witch, my poor little darling, do you see how you suffer when you stay away from me?’

She clawed at her pentacle for comfort, but found none. He only chuckled softly. She could feel his voice deep in her chest making her nipples even harder. ‘But all of your suffering is over now, my beauty. I shall make you feel better, and that is what you want, isn’t it? You want me to make you feel better.’

Come join the fun!

That’s 27th October

Sh! Women’s Store 6:30- 900pm