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An Executive Decision Blog Tour! Another Week of Fun!

AED new coverWeek one of The Executive Decision Blog Tour is now completed, and what a romp it was!  For those of you who don’t already know,  the tour is celebrating my romantic erotic Executive Decisions Trilogy with character interviews, insights, adventures in the great outdoors and lots of sexy excerpts from all three of the Executive Decisions novels. Oh, and did I mention a fabulous giveaway? I’ll be giving away two signed print copies of the first novel in the trilogy, An Executive Decision.

 

IC new coverUp until now I’ve never done a two-week tour before, and I have to say I’m having a great time. The host sites are fabulous, and it’s always fun to meet new people and make new friends.  I’m having a blast blogging both sides of the pond, and I think Dee and Ellis, Kendra and Garrett, and Stacie and Harris are having almost as much fun as I am talking about the fabulous Northwest of the US where the Executive Decision Trilogy is set, talking inspiration, and giving insights into the evolution of the trilogy and the fun I had on the journey to its completion. I hope you’ll follow the tour, enjoy the sizzling excerpts and have a good time. Join us at these fantastic sites on these dates and help us celebrate The Executive Decision Trilogy.  Below are the links for the blogs I’ll be visiting next week. And in case you missed the fabulous blogs this week, here is a link to those sites as well so you can catch up and sign up for the giveaways.

The Executive Decision Blog Tour Week One. 


TE new coverFollow the Executive Decision Blog Tour Second Week Here:

Books and Banter  Mon June 2nd

Destiny Blaine  Tue June 3rd

Lisabet Sarai  Wed June 4th

Snarky Mom Reads  Thur June 5th

Blood Lust and Erotica  Fri June 6th

SBTS for AED Trilogy

 

The Executive Decision Trilogy on Tour!

AED new coverBeginning tomorrow, May 26th, I’m celebrating my romantic erotic Executive Decisions Trilogy with a two-week blog tour and a giveaway of two signed print copies of the first novel in the trilogy, An Executive Decision.  I’m very excited about this huge event – never done a two-week tour before. I’ve packed up my blogging bags, got my passport all ready, and I’ll be off first thing tomorrow, for two fun-filled weeks with some fabulous blogs all over the world, talking about the fabulous Northwest of the US where the Executive Decision Trilogy is set, interviewing characters, talking inspiration, and giving insights into the evolution of the trilogy and the fun I had on the journey to its completion. I hope you’ll follow the tour, enjoy the sizzling excerpts and have a good time. Join us at these fantastic sites on these dates and help us celebrate The Executive Decision Trilogy

IC new coverFollow the Executive Decision Blog Tour:

The SubClub Books Mon May 26th

Illustrious Illusions Tue May 27th

Slippers and Stilettos Charlotte Howard Wed May 28th

Romance lives forever Thur May 29th


ARE Café
 Fri May 30

Books and Banter  Mon June 2nd

TE new coverDestiny Blaine  Tue June 3rd

Lisabet Sarai  Wed June 4th

Snarky Mom Reads  Thur June 5th

Blood Lust and Erotica  Fri June 6th

 

 

 

SBTS for AED Trilogy

 

 

Win a Print Copy of Sexy Just Walked Into Town

Sexy Just Walked Into Town

Oh lookie look! Giveaway of paperback copies of Sexy Just Walked Into Town – head on over to Goodreads and enter the contest! Gotta be in it to win it!

 

Smut for Good Fund Raising Blog Hop Supporting Parkinson’s UK

Coming Together with Curves Charity blog hop

It’s always an honour to participate in a Smutters blog hop, and even more of an honour when its Coming Together with Curves for a good cause, and Parkinson’s Awareness week is a very good cause.

Like most blog hops, there’s a giveaway involved. I’ll give away a free copy of my curvy short novella, Allotted Views to the winner. All you have to do is comment on the post. And if you want to make a difference, you’ll find a just giving link below where you can donate to help find a cure.

Below that, you’ll find a naughty, curvy excerpt for your reading pleasure.

*****

Smut for Good: Curves Rule is a blog hop with prizes galore to raise funds for Parkinson’s UK as this is Parkinson’s Awareness week. To find more curves, and seek out further prizes please visit http://smutters.co.uk/smut-for-good and if you can take a minute to please visit the Smut for Good: Curves Rule Just Giving Page athttp://www.justgiving.com/curvesrule and donate whatever you can to help us reach our target of £100 to raise awareness of Parkinson’s and to support the charity Parkinson’s UK http://www.parkinsons.org.uk/ who help those with the disease learn to cope with the challenges, give out information and search for a cure.

*****

Allotted Views Excerpt:

Warning: Adult Content & Veggie Porn!

allottedviewsLater, I was awakened by whispers. My heart went into overdrive with a rush of anticipation. I rose and walked on tiptoe to the window to peek out. Sure enough, there was Woo-Woo Man, but this time he wasn’t alone. The woman he was with, for lack of a more fitting term, was voluptuous. If he was woo-woo, she was woo-woo squared. She wore a dark gown with a tightly fitted bodice from which her very ample breasts mounded like large scoops of vanilla ice cream crowded into a small dish. The dress must have been corseted at the waist because it beautifully accentuated hourglass hips and buttocks that looked like they must be completely luscious for her to sit on or for anyone else to fondle. The long skirt swished with a silken hiss teasing its way between her thighs as she walked. There was a mountain of pale curly hair caught up on top of her head in a generous clipping of crystals and feathers. ‘Oh, it’s lovely, Jonathan.’ Her voice was a honey-comb-dipped contralto that I felt down low between my hipbones.

‘Then you’ll do it, My Lady?’ He took her hands in his, raised them reverently to his lips and kissed her pale knuckles. ‘You’ll bless it with me?’

‘Of course I will, Jonathan, darling, of course I will.’ She stood unmoving while Jonathan slid the white poet shirt he now wore off over his head and fumbled his way out of his cargo trousers. It was the way his cock rested unsubstantially drawn up against his balls that told me the man was nervous. But his spiky nipples told me he’d get over it.

With a melodramatic flutter of her long, heavy sleeves, My Lady lifted her arms into the air, and motioned Jonathan to do likewise. Then her voice got even lower as she earnestly entreated the blessing of the earth for the feeding of her children. That done, she held her arms out to each side, palms delicately cupped, facing upward, and nodded her consent, casting a demure glance down the pale valley between her breasts.

With fingers that were visibly shaking, Jonathan undid the tight cup of the bodice and My Lady’s bosom tumbled free just as she was saying something about all of us suckling at nature’s breasts. With one hand, fingers sparkling in sliver spirals of rings, she pulled him to her, first one tit and then the other. Each time he nursed and caressed and slurped her ripe strawberry nipples, she spoke a few words into the silent midnight air. And each time she gave him suck, his cock stretched and expanded and reached for her until it pressed its way into the dark satin folds of her skirt.

Then she stepped back slightly and offered him her hand. With his cock leading the way, he guided her to stand in the middle of the garden between the beans and the brassicas. There she squatted wide legged, and for a second I thought there would be more urea, but instead of peeing, she took a handful of soil, lifted it into the air in front of her and let it fall between her fingers. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but suddenly she stopped speaking, stood and motioned him to her again.

This time he undid the rest of the dress, and it fell around her ankles like a chrysalis being shed, brushing cabbage leaves and bean poles in its fullness. Then with him holding her hand, she stepped free of the dress standing tall and shimmering and completely naked in the muted touch of the sodium streetlight. She was Rubinesque in the most exquisite way. There were no protruding bones, no sharp edges, just soft pillowed curves that begged to be touched and nuzzled and fondled.

I had a lover once who’d made a fortune working in the city. One year, for my birthday, he took me to a very expensive hotel. I remember languishing on a bed mounded with satin pillows of every shape and size. I remember how after too much expensive fizz, he undressed me slowly and settled me into the middle of them all. I felt them against my cheek, hugging the sides of my breasts, sliding feather-soft over my nipples, shoving in between my legs as he removed my panties and arranged me like I was some kind of jewelry displayed on a bed of velvet. I relished their softness and resilience as he carefully positioned them beneath my hips until I gaped before him at the perfect angle for his explorations, at the perfect angle for his mounting. The contrast of his hard thrusts and pants over me and the lush, forgiving caress of the pillows beneath me was sensory overload that sent me into orgasmic bliss. Sadly the man wasn’t nearly as memorable as that delicious mound of pillows.

My Lady was like that. There was no part of her I wouldn’t have loved to pull to me and bury my face in. Almost unconsciously I found myself leaning forward toward her, nearly out the open window. She walked naked amid the ordered rows of tomatoes and carrots. She fondled the long leaves of the sweet corn, stroking them to her breasts, lifting them to her nose and inhaling their scent. She ran bare toes upward along the feathery greens of the carrots like a ballerina, each movement, each interaction making her more desirable, more exquisite in the shadowy light. And yet, Jonathan didn’t touch her, though his erection told me he wanted to badly enough. He simply followed her around with a proprietary step made comic by the bounce of his cock.

At last she turned to him and he nearly ploughed into her. ‘Jonathan, my darling, I offer myself to you for the blessing of this lovely garden.’

When he hesitated, she chuckled softly and ran a hand invitingly down the expansive curve of her hip. ‘Come now, darling, there’s no need to be shy. Our pleasure is a part of the magic.’ She turned her back to him and bent forward so that the lush pillows of her buttocks faced him, faced my window, and I grabbed at the buttons of my night shirt, clawing it free so that my own small breasts could take in the night breeze, so that my pussy rubbed unhindered against the chair I’d left in front of the window after Jonathan’s first worshipful wank – just in case.

17 aug 6IMG00557-20130817-1332‘Don’t be shy,’ she whispered. ‘Just for tonight, I am the goddess, you are my consort, and the great yoni that birthed all things into existence will be honoured by our offering. My pussy is yours until the magic is completed.’ Perhaps it was her sudden use of nasty language in a situation which up until now had seemed rather formal and reverent in spite of the chavish undertones of sneaking a fuck in the allotments after hours. But more than likely it was just the close proximity of her luscious bare arse cushioning said puss. Propriety gave way to lust. I held my breath, and my cunt trembled and clenched as he reached for her. He kneaded her arse cheeks in hard, probing caresses, which she seemed to like, if the little kitten sounds coming from her throat were any indication. She bent forward a little more and with one sparkling hand cupped a buttock and pulled herself open like ripe fruit ready to be eaten. The tight knot of her anus puckered and relaxed at the gust of his breath, though that’s only speculation on my part, but my own anus clenched in empathy at the nearness of his face to her lovely nether grip.

I expected him to shimmy his thick fingers down over her perineum to part the heavy folds of her labia, only now revealed as she bent still further to offer him a better view. But instead, he buried his face in her crevice, and she gave a tight little yelp of surprise as he began to eat his way along the sumptuous path to her cunny. I barely managed to stifle my own yelp at his face-first plunge, but I liked him so much better for doing exactly what I would have loved to do.

The sound of his oral explorations carried in the night time quiet even over the heavy breathing of all three of us. ‘You taste sweet,’ he said, ‘and you’re so slippery.’

‘Being around growing things arouses me so,’ she replied. ‘When I smell the earth all ripe and ready, when I see new buds bursting and spreading, I get all squirmy and juicy and I want to have sex on the ground under the moon. I want to rut like a wild animal, like our ancestors did, like we were intended.’

The view for me was exquisite as I stroked my own wetness, vaguely aware of the mess I was making on my chair, but not caring. My Lady’s clit was marble hard and nearly as big. I know that because Jonathan told her so, a revelation that made her wriggle her pale bottom back against his mouth and open her legs still further. I was sure my clit could have matched in size and tightness, as I tweaked it between my thumb and forefinger. Though I couldn’t see her cunny, I could see the clench and relax of his pucker, and when he moved just right I got the between-the-thighs view of his weighty balls and distended cock.

‘Fuck me, Jonathan,’ she hissed between her teeth. ‘I need you to fuck me. I need to come.’

And there’s the rub of it, I thought. In the end, it really is all about sex, and I would have gladly fucked either one of them, but I still wasn’t convinced it was the secret to a good veg patch.

Jonathan pulled his face away shining with her juices, and I swear I could smell pussy on the soft night breeze, pussy other than my own. When he pushed his penis up into her, I heard the slurp of her wetness. I figured the whimpers and grunts of need that followed didn’t really have too much to do with serving the goddess, but then what the hell did I know? What the hell did I care as long as we all came? And all three of us were so damn close that a feather of a breath would have sent us toppling over the edge.

Then My Lady gasped and began to keen, ‘oh my goddess, oh my goddess I’m coming! I’m coming!’ And she wasn’t quiet about it either, so in spite of his reverence for the woman, Jonathan shoved the hand that had been kneading great fists full of her swaying breasts against her mouth to silence her. She had just managed containment when he pulled out of her so quickly that she nearly lost her balance, then to her squeals of delight and praises of the goddess, he shot arched streams of semen onto the brassicas and beans, and I practically juddered myself off the chair when my own orgasm hit.

After they’d caught their breath, he helped My Lady back into her dress, all the while she spoke in hushed tones about the goddess’s blessing on Jonathan’s garden, and what a gift he had. I wondered if she was talking about his skills as a gardener or his skills as a lover. Neither seemed to be lacking as far as I could tell. Then, when they were both dressed, just before they left, she turned to him and gave his cock a stroke through his trousers. ‘Keep the ground fertile, Jonathan, keep the ground fertile.’

runner beansI could have kissed her for that had I not been watching uninvited, because the very next night, Jonathan took her at her word. He was back coming on the tomatoes and courgettes, and I came with him, a heavy dildo shoved up the juicy squelch- squelch of my pussy, one that I’d bought that morning at a shop I pass on the way to work. I bought it because I thought was shaped particularly like him. The added appendage was enough to give me several good orgasms while I watched him tug and stroke his own appendage, and even ride a long middle finger knuckle-deep into his anus. Three nights in a row, on the advice of My Lady, he wanked on his veg, and I wanked in sympathy, every night having multiples, every night drenching myself shamelessly, every night pushing my body over the edge into mindless trembling pleasure. My god, it was amazing!

 

Laura Wilkinson Talks About Friends, Rivals, Tweeps and Twerps

Those who say online friendships don’t count/ aren’t real/are of less value than others, are – in my book – wrong.

Laura Wilkinson 7 Appublic battles draftI was quite late to Facebook; I joined in 2007,abandoning MySpace along with the droves, but for at least five years I had few friends and posted irregularly to say the least. I was even slower off the mark with Twitter, only joining because my first publisher suggested it. However, I took to Twitter like the proverbial duck and enjoyed hours of chatting and joking and information sharing with my new Besties. My family might have enjoyed this period a little less, but, hey, there are always winners and losers. As my love affair with Twitter grew in intensity, ironically, I fell in love with Facebook too. Like most of us, my love is not of a fixed capacity.

There were tweeps I spoke with more than others, and it wasn’t long before plans to meet face to face were hatched. I have become ‘real’ friends with over half a dozen people I met online and ‘real’ acquaintances with many, many more. Of course, geography has played its part. I’ve not hooked up with tweeps in Australia, the US or Croatia, though I do know those who when travelling have done this, and perhaps one day, I might too.

I consider myself lucky to have so many good, solid friends, real and virtual. Not everyone does. My lead in Public Battles, Private Wars, Mandy, has enemies as well as friends and she finds both in the most unexpected quarters.

Writers are a friendly bunch, supportive and kind, rarely competitive, and forums like Facebook and Twitter suit most of us very well indeed. I met the lovely KD on Twitter and I’ve met her in real life (just as lovely there). So, here’s what I say to those who say virtual friendships are shallow: Don’t be a Twerp, come join the party.

Public Battles, Private Wars is published by Accent Press on 27 March.

Yorkshire 1983

Miner’s wife Mandy is stuck in a rut. Her future looks set and she wants more. But Mandy can’t do anything other than bake and raise her four children. Husband Rob is a good looking drinker, content to spend his days in the small town where they live.

When a childhood friend – beautiful, clever Ruth – and her Falklands war hero husband, Dan, return to town, their homecoming is shrouded in mystery. Mandy looks to Ruth for inspiration, but Ruth isn’t all she appears.

Conflict with the Coal Board turns into war and the men come out on strike. The community and its way of life is threatened. Mandy abandons dreams of liberation from the kitchen sink and joins a support group. As the strike rumbles on relationships are pushed to the brink, and Mandy finds out who her true friends are.

Laura Wilkinson 7 ApMarch 2014 031Here are a few buy links:

http://www.accentpress.co.uk/Book/10497/Public-Battles-Private-Wars.html

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Public-Battles-Private-Laura-Wilkinson/dp/1783755164/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1393528368&sr=8-1&keywords=public+battles+private+wars

And there are SIX copies up for grabs in a giveaway over at Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21488069-public-battles-private-wars

You can find out more about Laura and the novel, including Book Group Questions, here: http://laura-wilkinson.co.uk

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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