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Posts Tagged ‘erotic romance’

Lucy Felthouse Tells the Story Behind Off The Shelf

I’ve had the pleasure of watching this nasty author grow from someone who trembled at the thought of a story of 10K to someone who tackles a novella with gusto and … er … well nastiness. Lucy Felthouse is not only one of my favourite guest authors on this site, but she’s one of my favourite people, full-stop, and a woman of MANY talents. Her fab novella, Off the Shelf,  is in Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series. Please welcome the fabulous Lucy Felthouse to tell as about her super-heated novella, Off the Shelf, from The Secret Library anthology, Silk Stockings. Welcome back, Lucy!

Off the Shelf is my first novella, and as such holds a special place in my heart. It came about when one of the editors from Xcite Books asked if I’d be interested in writing something for a new range of books they were releasing, called The Secret Library. After reading the brief, I decided I was definitely interested, and was determined not to let the required word count put me off. I said yes, then immediately panicked. What was I going to write about? What if the story didn’t have enough backbone to meet the minimum word count? What if my story was boring? What if they hated it?

Thankfully, none of my fears were realised. After thinking about what my story was going to be about, my Muse finally came through for me. In fact, it was the hero of the piece that came into my head first, and when I thought about what his background was, where he worked, and so on, the rest of the story fell into place.

Damien isn’t your typical romance hero. He has long curly hair, glasses, is slim (though certainly not scrawny), and he works in a bookshop. That’s kind of where the idea started for me – I wanted a cute, intelligent guy who worked in a bookshop as a hero. Then, to make it a little different, I decided that he would work in an airport bookshop. From there, other snippets started coming to me. If he was working in an airport, he’d have the potential to meet lots of different people from varying walks of life. So who would wow him?

Enter Annalise. She’s a travel writer and the airport Damien works in is the one she uses when she’s flying somewhere on assignment. She’s been single for a while, and although she hates it, she struggles to meet men because her job is so demanding, and the ones she does meet may be suitable for naughty encounters, but certainly not for anything long term. Annalise wants someone that shares her interests and passions, and who is intelligent. So when she meets Damien, it looks as though her love life is on the up.

The trouble is, Damien is shy, and Annalise is terrified of rejection. And then there’s the fact that Annalise is busy jetting off all over the world. There are plenty of obstacles in their way, but can the pair overcome them and take a chance on what could be a meaningful relationship? There’s only one way to find out… 😉

Once I had the outline to this story drafted out, I loved writing it. I adore both main characters (and I admit, I fancy the pants off Damien) and it was great to get words down and explore their story. There were a couple of occasions where the pair of them deviated from the plan, but I figured it was their story and I should just let them get on with it. And, I’m pleased to say, I’m delighted with the end result. It was a huge learning curve for me in terms of length, as I’m so used to writing short stories, but by the time I got to the end I was relieved to finish, but also delighted with my achievement. This probably sounds crazy to accomplished novelists (such as the lovely lady hosting this very guest blog post) but the whole experience has boosted my confidence in writing longer stories, and I’ll definitely be doing more of it in the not-too-distant future.

And now, since I’ve waffled on enough, I’ll share some of the opening scene of Off the Shelf and hope you’re intrigued enough to add the book to your to be read list, or even place an order for the paperback or eBook edition!

Happy reading!

Excerpt:

Pushing the ‘on’ button, Annalise moved the vibrator down between her parted legs and eased it inside her eager pussy. As the ears of the Rampant Rabbit slid into position on her clit, she groaned with pleasure and rolled her hips, desperate to get more delicious friction. Then she pressed another button on the toy’s control panel to ramp up the power another notch. As much as she’d prefer a slower build-up to her orgasm, she just didn’t have the time. She had to leave for the airport in a couple of hours, and she hadn’t even packed her case. A quick knee-trembler would have to suffice.

As the vibrator buzzed away between her thighs, Annalise closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of anything but the pleasure she was experiencing. After a brief flirtation with the thought that she’d much prefer a hot man between her legs bringing her to orgasm, Annalise simply enjoyed the feeling of her impending climax. The busily-vibrating bunny ears pressed tightly against her sensitive flesh soon had her pussy fluttering. Then, without warning, Annalise was quickly yanked onto her pleasure plateau and immediately pushed off, leaving her writhing and shouting on the bed as a powerful orgasm overtook her body.

Annalise arched her back as waves of pleasure crashed over her, and her cunt clenched and grabbed at the toy buried deep inside. Her swollen clit throbbed, quickly becoming too sensitive for the unrelenting stimulation from the vibrator. Switching it off and pulling out, Annalise dropped the toy onto the mattress by her side and gave a satisfied moan as she rode out the remainder of her climax. Finally, when the twitches and spasms had abated and her heart rate and breathing were almost back to normal, Annalise grabbed the Rabbit and rolled across to the side of her bed where the toy box was kept. She made short but thorough work of cleaning it, then reluctantly put it in its case, popped it into the small bedside cupboard and shut the door.

Annalise hated leaving her favourite toy behind when she went away, but she just wasn’t brave enough to take it with her. She usually only took carry-on luggage, and the very thought of the distinctive shape of the Rampant Rabbit popping up on the screen of the airport scanners made her shudder. It would be bad enough for the staff to see it on their monitors, knowing what it was and giving her knowing looks; imagine what would happen if they decided to check inside her bags! She would want to curl up and die of embarrassment, she just knew it.

No, it was much better off staying here. She could make do with her right hand for a few days. Even better, she might even meet someone. Annalise smiled. She’d had some pretty steamy encounters on her travels. The desk clerk in Dubai, the gym manager in Turkey, the waiter in Corfu…

Annalise shook herself. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander down that path and get herself all worked up. She had to go and get ready now. There’d be plenty of time for daydreaming later, when she was in long and boring queues, and on the flight.

Blurb:

At 35, travel writer Annalise is fed up with insensitive comments about being left on the shelf. It’s not as if she doesn’t want a man, but her busy career doesn’t leave her much time for relationships. Sexy liaisons with passing acquaintances give Annalise physical satisfaction, but she needs more than that. She wants a man who will satisfy her mind as well as her body. But where will she find someone like that? It seems Annalise may be in luck when a new member of staff starts working in the bookshop at the airport she regularly travels through. Damien appears to tick all the boxes; he’s gorgeous, funny and intelligent, and he shares Annalise’s love of books and travel. The trouble is, Damien’s shy and Annalise is terrified of rejection. Can they overcome their fears and admit their feelings, or are they doomed to remain on the shelf?

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-secret-library-silk-stockings/

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, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. 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

 

Constance Munday Tell The Story Behind Silk Stockings

As promised, another fabulous post from the nasty authors of Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series. Today’s nasty author has written the title story of The Secret Library anthology, Silk Stockings. Please welcome the delicious Constance Munday!

I started writing when I was only a child and always loved it.  Books were kind of a staple in our household and I was brought up on a diet of stories.  My earliest memories are of my parents reading to me and as I got older my fanatical reading passion – so writing was bound to happen.  How wonderful to be able to make it a part of my life.  The most rewarding task though, it has to be one of the hardest; a constant juggling act and assault against time and intrusions and sometimes a wrestling match with a tricky idea.  As a writer I think you’re constantly improving and taking criticism and trying to please your loyal band of followers.

There’s been so much going on this year as I finally creep from under my log and start blogging and chatting.  Angels and demons are vying with romance and pleasure in a few scintillating projects which are up and coming and should be out soon.  Look out for me!

Anyway, this post is about an imminent arrival.  Yes, I’m delighted to be part of a wonderful project with such talented and fabulous writing friends.

I loved writing Silk Stockings for this fabulous new novella collection by Accent Press called, ‘The Secret Library,’ and Michael and Imogen were such lovely characters to develop.  My fans will probably find this a bit of a departure from my other work.  For some years now I’ve been writing mainly erotic fiction with most of you knowing me as Alcamia.

However, eventually I’ve come out of the closet under my romantic fiction name of Constance Munday.  This was the result of been pressed over the last year or so to come clean, so to speak – find my voice and tell everyone that yes, I’m both an erotic romantic and fantasy novelist too and I’m proud of it.  I do hope my loyal fan base will enjoy this new me, although don’t worry I’m still writing, pure sizzling hot erotica too and loving it.

Anyway, onto ‘Silk Stockings.’  I was aware before I even got into the story that I wanted to blend a tiny bit of crime into this one to make it exciting and I love setting stories in new and exciting places and playing with periods in history.  This story has a bit of both.  For some reason Berlin really suited my character Imogen and lends the right atmosphere to the tale; a bit dark and edgy and most definitely sexy.

As it is, the story is a hot romantic tale with plenty of spice and a strong emotional element.  Without giving too much away, things are going to get tricky for my sassy heroine Imogen when she meets Michael.  Michael is everything Imogen’s past lovers have not been – rich, successful but also a tender romantic hero.  Rapidly Imogen falls in love but she’s petrified.  For years now she’s been fleeing her demons and protecting a dark secret which is close to her heart.   Now, right when she thinks she’s found true happiness and fallen in love with Michael overnight, a frightening spectre from her past is closing in on her and threatening all she holds dear.  Imogen is being pursued in more ways than one.  Should she flee completely and leave the man she loves or can she reveal to Michael the truth?

BLURB:

When Michael Levenstein meets Imogen, an exotic dancer at a Berlin nightclub, a passionate and intense love story develops.  Michael becomes obsessed by mysterious Imogen and falls into a world of intense sexual fantasy and desire. But Imogen is determined to protect a personal, dark secret at all costs and because of this she has forbidden herself love.With Imogen afraid of committing and afraid of losing what she has fought for so desperately, can Michael break down her barriers and discover a solution to his lover’s deep dark secret, thus freeing the enigmatic Imogen to truly love him

EXCERPT:

Imogen watched Michael for several minutes and before she realised what she was doing, she speared him with her cheeky gaze and raising her glass she invited a toast. It was something she never did and there was a steely determination in her glance, not unlike a whore’s invitation, but in a way she was a whore. She was, as Louis had so quaintly put it, the silk stocking whore – a cocktease in Cervin.

Michael smiled at her. She hazarded a guess he was doing what most men did, he was wondering if she had a boyfriend or if she was a high class whore waiting for a punter since she seemed expectant and her gaze kept continually darting to the door. The truth of the matter was, though, Imogen couldn’t get rid of the irrational fear which seemed to be mounting up inside her day by day, the fear Louis would walk right back in and blackmail her.

After awhile Imogen fished an olive out of her drink and popping it between her lips she dried her finger on her thigh. She didn’t mean to do it, but the action of the finger drew Michael’s attention to the silk stockings. She rubbed her finger up and down suggestively and then she drew several small circles on her thigh before hitching her skirt skilfully up her legs. She didn’t want to tempt him but she couldn’t help it, she liked him. She liked his wide-eyed innocent look and his slim sexy physique and narrow hips. He was American, she’d guessed that immediately because he talked with a bit of a twang like Jake, but Jake had a broad Brooklyn accent and Michael’s accent was soft and husky as if he’d just had sex and rolled out of bed. Even that voice was enough to get her going for some reason. It sent shivers all the way up her spine.

Michael travelled the world in his high powered job as top sales executive in his sister-in-law’s cosmetic firm. He was a rebel like his father and he’d been groomed to walk in Abel Levenstein’s shoes, but when he left law school Michael found, although he had a certain genius just like his father for law, he didn’t want to be a facsimile of a legal Levenstein.

Being a famous Levenstein wasn’t easy and when he dropped the bombshell, Abel didn’t talk to him for six months, but the family were close and a compromise was reached. He now employed his skills to good use in Marta’s employ. He enjoyed selling useful products and he could put his legal skills to good use. Furthermore, he loved the job because he was constantly meeting and able to appraise stunning women, women of incredible and outstanding beauty. He’d been to many exotic countries and he’d shared a bed with a fair quantity of fascinating girls. Girls he had to admit, who were exceedingly enchanting and sexually provocative and sometimes had eclectic and surprising sexual repertoires but whose beautiful flawless looks became in a while just a little bit repetitive. In all those bars, in all those hotels, he’d never seen a dame as exciting as Imogen, the woman in the silk stockings.

Where to find Constance Munday:

I have a website but it will be closing, as my server is shutting down at the end of April and I am at the moment deciding on a new one plus a blog spot.

It is:  www.alcamiapayne.web.officelive.com

Alcamia can be found at  www.total-e-bound.com and of course Xcite books

Were to buy Silk stocking: http://www.xcitebooks.co.uk/home.html

www.thesecretlibrary.co.uk

www.amazon.co.uk

 

 

Surrogates, Garden Porn and Inspiration

First of all, let me just do a little happy dance while I tell any of you out there who haven’t already heard me shouting about it (the ones who might have been in internet-deprived Outer Mongolia or just waking up from a coma) My new novella, Surrogates, is out! Rock on, garden porn! … er … should that be compost on, garden porn???

Garden porn! Ah yes, my favourite erotic topic. I’ve talked about the pleasure of getting my hands dirty before, and I’ve even discussed the many innovative uses for veg and garden implements. Surrogates is nothing if not creative with both. For those of you who don’t know what a dibber is, look it up, and I’m sure you can see where I’m heading – gently of course, gently!

My heroine, Francie Carter, is a master gardener who specialises in veg, or kitchen gardens, and she makes her living restoring walled kitchen gardens on large estates. You guessed it, Francie’s garden is a veg gardener’s wet dream come true. It’s a huge plot of postage stamp beds with grass paths in between. It comes with fruit trees, succulent beds of soft fruit, a large, heated, well-equipped greenhouse and  a state of the art staging area. All of that luscious yumminess is shielded and protected by a restored medieval wall. The garden Francie tends, on the estate of her kinky, neurotic lover, Daniel Alexander III, is my dream garden. Bet that comes as no surprise.

While I was writing Surrogates for Mischief Books and fantasising all the hot sex that would take place in the hot gardens, my husband and I were on the waiting list for an allotment. We had been on that waiting list for three long years and counting. Allotments, I figured, are about as close to a walled medieval garden on an opulent estate as I’m ever likely to get. Though, to be honest, after three years of waiting, I was beginning to wonder if my chances might be better with an opulent estate.

Just a week before Surrogates was released, we became the proud holders of a prime piece of allotment real estate, and suddenly our veg growing capacity went from whatever we could squeeze into our small back garden to a plot bigger than the whole property our house is on! Of course, like most allotments, the whole property is fenced in. Okay, it’s not a medieval stone wall, but it’s close enough for me. Though we don’t have a huge greenhouse like the one in which Francie partakes of some seriously hot sex with her two men, we have inherited a little blue garden shed, which I find very inspiring, indeed!

Unlike Francie, I’m no expert. I’m just a hobbyist, a hobbyist whose hobby suddenly got a whole lot more serious. My husband reckons we have about a half an acre! A half an acre, a little blue garden shed, a huge compost heap, and several kinds of mouth-watering soft fruit already planted. Be still my heart! It isn’t just that I’ll finally have space for lots of sweet corn and lots of peas, or that I’ll finally be able to put in that asparagus bed I’ve always dreamed of, but it’s the inspiration of it all. Even stories that are totally free of garden porn bubble up from the deep, filthy, romantic part of my unconscious when my hands are in the earth and I’m growing things to eat. A whole half acre of inspiration! AND a quirky blue garden shed. I shiver with anticipation!

And to celebrate the launch of Surrogates, here’s a steamy excerpt straight from the garden. Enjoy! (Be warned, this one’s a scorcher!)

Blurb:

DANIEL ALEXANDER III takes his marriage vows seriously. Until he gets the balls to ask his wife, BEL, for a divorce, watching each other masturbate is all he can offer his beautiful gardener, FRANCIE CARTER. But when Dan’s friend, SIMON PARIS, agrees to be his surrogate, affairs of the heart get complicated.

Excerpt:

‘Francie? Francie, are you there?’ Dan made his way around behind the jungle of runner beans, getting a shoe full of warm moist soil when he stepped off the path. As the grit infiltrated his dress socks, he would have cursed his clumsiness, but then he saw her on hands and knees, the swell of her hips slightly raised in her efforts to pull stubborn weeds. She didn’t have to do that. She was the head kitchen gardener, a goddess in her domain. He hired underlings to do the weeding, but fuck, he was glad she took the hands-on approach, especially at times like this. She had kicked off the silly blue plastic gardening clogs she always wore, and her bare toes curled into the soft earth as though the very touch of it was an irresistible pleasure. How could soil between toes be so goddamned sexy?

The thin summer skirt she wore barely covered the heart-shaped roundness of her bottom, hugging her and clinging in the heavy summer heat to the delicious juncture where her thighs met. There were clearly no panty lines. She gardened in skirts, like she wanted to expose herself, like the act of planting and digging and cultivating made her a naughty bitch, who couldn’t get enough. But then that was the way he saw her in his fantasies, and oh shit, did he have fantasies about her! His cock jerked with insistence that nearly took his breath away. ‘There you are,’ he breathed, fingers already fumbling at his fly.

‘Go away. I’m busy,’ she said, giving some unfortunate weed an angry tug, an act the made the thin skirt quiver, made the firm muscles of her buttocks beneath clench and release. And his balls surged sending a testosterone buzz clear to the crown of his head.

He ignored the anger in her voice, well he didn’t actually ignore it. Her saucy temper made his cock even harder. ‘It’s all right, darling, you keep on working. Just lift your skirt for me.’ He grunted softly as he released his cock into his hand.

‘Lift it yourself. I said I’m busy.’

‘You know I can’t do that, sweetheart.’

She growled something particularly feral under her breath. He figured it wasn’t fit for polite company, which made him wish all the more that he’d heard it.

‘I’ve got such a load for you. I’ll come all over it if you don’t lift it for me,’ he said.

‘I have other skirts, Daniel.’ She only called him Daniel when she was really angry. ‘Why do I care where you come?’

‘Because you know where I really want to come, darling, and you have to know how badly I want it.’ He moved slightly to one side, not so far that her magnificent bottom wasn’t the centre of his attention, but far enough that, in her peripheral vision, she might catch a glimpse of him stroking his cock. Even if she couldn’t, she knew what he was doing, and he had no intention of being quiet about it. He lifted his balls free from his boxers and groaned at the feel of himself so full, so heavy for her.

She gave another angry yank at the offending weeds, and the resulting squeeze of her buttocks nearly sent him over the edge.

Buy Links:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Mischief

 

Elizabeth Coldwell is Cooking Up Trouble for The Secret Library

As I promised, more fabulous posts from the nasty authors of Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series. Today’s nasty author is in between those sexy velvet covers with me and Toni Sands in the Traded Innocence anthology. Please welcome the lucious Elizabeth Coldwell here to tell you a bit about her sizzling story, Cooking Up Trouble. Welcome Liz!

If there was one thing I’d put on my list, should I ever decide to compile what makes the perfect man, it would be an ability to cook. Much as I love demonstrating my own culinary skills, there’s something incredibly attractive about a man who knows his way round an omelette pan. And if he can do that flash style of chopping that reduces an onion to tiny dice within seconds, so much the better.

A man who loves food is a man who loves sex, or so it’s been claimed. That’s why I decided to set Cooking Up Trouble, my story in The Secret Library’s Traded Innocence collection, in the world of the TV cookery show. There have never been more chefs demonstrating their skills on our TV channels, whether that’s Heston Blumenthal doing something complicated with Gruyere cheese and dry ice, or the Hairy Bikers trading wisecracks while whipping up a soufflé on a tiny camping stove. Chefs have huge egos – at least the best ones do – which makes them perfect alpha male hero material, just waiting to meet their match in a feisty heroine who won’t sit back and meekly adore them, however gorgeous and talented they might be.

Scott Harley, who takes centre stage in Cooking Up Trouble, isn’t based on any one particular chef, though I did base his restaurant, the Ludgate Chop House, in Clerkenwell, a part of London I know quite well, and one where I’ve had my share of memorable meals over the years. He’s the kind of man who’ll pose naked to promote himself (while aiming to raise awareness of a charitable cause at the same time), and he won’t hesitate to insult any or all of his fellow chefs in the process (sound like anyone you’ve heard of?). Which is where Morgan Jones comes in.

Morgan is the new kid on the TV chefs block, a Rubenesque girl from the Welsh valleys who’s been on the end of Harley’s whiplash tongue before now. And that makes her more than a little wary of working with him when they’re chosen as the new presenting team on the long-running Saturday morning TV show, Cook’s Treat. She’s the queen of gooey desserts and sumptuous baked goods, the vice to Scott’s virtuous style. What neither she nor Scott expects is that when they finally meet in the flesh, their attraction will be instant and too hot to ignore, try as they might. The show’s ratings soar, propelled by their obvious chemistry together. But what will happen if their on-screen relationship moves to the bedroom – will they be able to stand the heat?

You can find out by reading Cooking Up Trouble, part of a tantalising triple bill alongside Toni Sands’ Traded Innocence and KD Grace’s Migrations. Bon appetit!

Blurb:
The good news is that Morgan Jones has landed her dream job, co-presenting the Saturday morning TV cookery show, Cook’s Treat. The bad news is she’ll be working alongside the hottest celebrity chef in London, Scott Harley. Voluptuous Morgan has never forgiven Scott for trashing her cooking style and physical appearance in a magazine article, but when she meets him in the flesh for the first time her reaction is very different. The attraction between the two of them is mutual and undeniable, but she’s determined not to fall for his obvious charms. Their chemistry on the show disguises the tension behind the scenes – a tension that grows more sexual by the day. Can she stand the growing heat – or should Morgan get out of the kitchen?

Excerpt:

This can’t be happening, Morgan told herself. Of all the people to find herself so instantly, powerfully attracted to, why did it have to be him? Biting hard on the end of her ballpoint pen, she fought to keep the feeling buried. But as Lucinda began to outline the innovations she intended to bring to the Cook’s Treats format, hoping to gain an even bigger share of the Saturday morning audience than the show already attracted, Morgan found her thoughts wandering.

She pictured again the image of Scott naked but for the concealing saucepan, his magnificent body revealed for everyone to see. In her mind’s eye, he stood in exactly that same pose. Only this time, he moved the pan away from his groin, exposing a long, hard cock that almost invited her to touch it. She pictured herself unfastening the wrap dress she’d bought for the show. Her fantasy self wore no underwear, and, beneath the dress, Morgan’s body was a symphony of soft curves. Scott’s lips curved in a lustful smile at the sight of her full breasts, their nipples suckable peaks, and the fluff of dark hair on her mound, pussy peeking out between her rounded thighs.

Time seemed to stand still as they each eyed the other’s glorious nakedness, waiting to see who would make the next move. Then Scott took a pace forward, hand moving along his cock, pushing its velvety foreskin back so the head popped out from beneath it.

Morgan saw herself sinking to her knees before him, reaching out to take his thick shaft in her hand so she could feed the tip between her lips. His breath hissed out at the sensation of being enveloped in Morgan’s warm, wet mouth. Clutching him at the base, bobbing her head up and down so he almost, but not quite, fell from her lips with every pass, she licked and sucked till he couldn’t take any more. His warning cry gave her the opportunity to pull her mouth away. Instead, she held steady, gulping down every drop of his hot, salty …

‘So what do you think, Morgan?’

Swept away by her fantasy, it took Morgan a moment to realise the question was being addressed to her.

Find Elizabeth Coldwell here:

http://elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com/

Traded Innocence is available from

www.thesecretlibrary.co.uk

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Waterstones
Xcite Books

 

Shshsh! It’s a Secret: Okay, Not Any More: The Secret Library and Road Trips

There’s something about being in the closed environment of a car moving down a long stretch of highway, watching the landscape change right before your eyes that’s a little bit magical. One of the best parts of a good road trip is that everything is in flux. I’ve always found it hard to doze when it’s not my turn to drive because I know every second my eyes are closed, an amazing landscape is passing me by.

I was fresh out of Uni and had worked a year in a small market television station in Montana. It was my first holiday. I was sort of on again off again with my landlady’s son, Lynn. He was making a cross country move and invited me to travel along as far as Missouri, where my friends and family were expecting me, and where I had planned to spend my holiday. It seemed like a good way to save money and have a great time, so we headed off across country on a crisp May morning.

We were planning to drive straight through, but ended up having car trouble somewhere in Eastern Montana in the late afternoon. Help came from a truck driver, whose CB radio handle was The Weatherman. We never learned his real name. It was only a temporary fix until we could get to a place that had the part we needed for Lynn’s truck. Lucky for us, Lynn’s truck was equipped with a CB, and he was well-versed in the protocol. When we headed back down the highway, The Weatherman was keeping an eye on us.

We travelled with him, bantering back and forth over the radios almost like we were really travelling together. The three of us had dinner at a truck stop en route. I don’t remember anything we talked about now, and nothing specific about the Weatherman and his life outside the closed environment of his truck. We travelled on through the night, across South Dakota, cosily tucked in our separate vehicles, only the soft crackle and pop of the CB connecting us. Sometime in the wee hours, we stopped at some little all-night diner on the edge of an Indian Reservation for coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls. Just after dawn, The Weatherman left us at some town that had a decent garage and continued his journey. I don’t even remember the name of the place now, but I do remember our sojourn with The Weatherman. For the biggest part of a day, our travels paralleled each other, and we were companions on the journey. Then The Weatherman went on his way, and so did we.

I never saw either of them again. Lynn settled in the DC area, where he had a job waiting. We stayed in touch for a while, then drifted apart. And who knew where The Weatherman ended up at. But for a little while he made our journey a whole lot more interesting.

The view from part of Val and Hawk's sexy road trip in Migrations.

The unexpected journey with The Weatherman is, to some degree, what inspired my novella, Migrations – that and a family trip from hell, which involved my mother, an adult niece and endless miles of whiny country music and audio romance novels. Somehow the two inspired one, steamy, romantic road trip of a novella, which is now in Xcite Book’s fabulous new Secret Library Collection in the Traded Innocence anthology. Each anthology contains three steamy, romantic novellas by some of erotica’s best authors. I feel very honoured to be included in such nasty, romantic, delisious company.

In the following few weeks as The Secret Library anthologies are released, I’ll be featuring some of the fabulous writers of those novellas on my website. The novellas are sexy and romantic and all done up in lovely discrete velvet covers. You can take them anywhere, and no one will ever guess your yummy little secret.

Here’s a little except from my novella, Migrations.

Blurb:

VAL HASTINGS, assisted by her do-gooder cousin, SALLY CLINE, is shanghaied into driving their AUNT ROSE across the US to visit her son. What begins as the trip from hell turns into a sexy adventure when they find themselves sharing the interstate with a mysterious, leather-clad biker. Aunt Rose and Sally are convinced he’s up to no good. But after Val catches him mid-wank at a rest area, and he offers her some steamy help to make her journey more enjoyable, she’s convinced he’s her nasty saviour.

Is HAWK, the biker, a murder, a free spirit, or something else? Whatever he is, animal attraction wins out over caution, as he joins the ladies for a cross country romp that keeps Sally and Aunt Rose nervous and Val hotter than her overheating engine.

Excerpt:

Val nipped the tip of Hawk’s thumb playfully and looked around at the feeding cranes. ‘Bon appetit!’ She called, uttering a startled gasp when he pulled her down onto the grass, his mouth covering hers as he engulfed her in his warmth and his scent.

‘Is this payment for what I owe you?’ She whispered when he pulled away.

‘Only the first instalment.’ He pushed the jacket off her shoulder along with the straps of her tank top and bra and bathed the sensitive hollow of her collar bone in warm kisses and nibbles, causing her to squirm against him.

‘It’s a big one then? The debt I mean.’ She was finding it more and more difficult to think in coherent sentences as he cupped and caressed.

‘You could be in the hotel room with your auntie and cousin watching movies on demand.’

‘Enormous then,’ she groaned, pressing up against him.

‘Mmm. I doubt if you’ll ever be able to fully repay it.’ He insinuated one knee between her legs and wriggled and nestled until his groin pressed against hers, until she could feel the hardness of him through the rub of jeans against jeans. Then he went back to work on her mouth, his tongue dancing over hers and lapping at her hard pallet, as they rocked and shifted against each other, until the friction was exquisite.

He pulled away enough to shove her tank top up until her belly was bare, then he  kissed her just below the waist band of her bra where her ribs came together, causing her to inhale in tight little gasps. He licked and nuzzled his way down to her navel, while he opened her zipper and slid a hand inside the low waist band of her panties, clearing the way for his hungry mouth. She arched up to meet his kisses, as he slid her clothing down over her hips.

It felt as though she’d been waiting forever for this moment, as he caressed and suckled the landscape of her, exploring with his fingers, with his mouth, with his eyes, like Lewis and Clark discovering a new land, like Darwin discovering a new species.

The little moan that escaped his throat against her clit might have been from the feel of her so engorged and open and receptive, or it might have been from the feel of his heavy penis pressing through his jeans. Whatever the cause, she returned the moan and curled her fingers in his hair holding him to her undulating groin. The cranes were all around them, so close she could almost touch a feathered neck or a slender leg. She felt their singleness of purpose as though it were her own, and Hawk felt it too, she was sure he did.

He nuzzled and nipped and licked at the split of her, burying his face in the warm wetness of her, caressing her fullness with deep, expressive lavings. And when she was practically in a frenzy with the want of him, he pulled away and looked up into her eyes, his face glistening with her juices. ‘I don’t want to play this time, Val. I want the real thing. I want all of you. I want to be inside you.’

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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