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Best Summer Memories Coast to Coast with Holly: Part I Reliving the Best Holiday Ever!

Best Summer Memories Giveaway: A Romp through the Archives & Our Coast-to-Coast Walk:

Welcome to Part I of Coast to Coast with Holly, my best ever summer memory.

I’ve been wanting to share the Coast to Coast walk Raymond and I took with Holly two years ago once again, I suppose as much for my pleasure as I hope for yours. But one of the best things that happened on that walk across England is that I blogged it. I walked in the day and sat in pubs or at our B & B in the evenings and blogged our adventures. Raymond took masses of pictures, so the blog record could be as visual as possible, because the views were fabulous and the experience was amazing. Some of my very best summer memories are from that fantastic two weeks as we walked in all kinds of weather from St. Bee’s Head on the Irish Sea all the way to Robin Hood’s Bay on the North Sea.

All this week I’ll be revisiting that fabulous journey by posting those travel blogs again. During that time, I’m hoping that you’ll drop me a comment and share your best summer memories. And to encourage you to share your fun, I’m offering a copy of one of my back titles — winner’s choice. All you have to do is comment for a chance to win.

KD Goes Coastal!

Anyone who has ever enjoyed reading a good book knows that the best thing about a good book is that it has the amazing ability to take us out of the ordinary and transport us into the extraordinary.

For writers, it’s no different. When we’re in the zone, when the Muse is with us, we are transported to extraordinary places in our imaginations, places we can’t wait to put down in words and share with other people.

My experience of writing The Initiation of Ms Holly was just such an experience, an experience that started in the dark in the Eurostar tunnel, and while I wasn’t going anywhere, my imagination was off and running, and a year later, Holly was born.

Starting the 8th of August, Raymond and I are setting out to walk the Wainwright Coast to Coast Path across England. This has been something we’ve dreamed about ever since we started walking seriously. So we’re very excited. It’s not just going to be the two of us though. That’s right. It’ll be a threesome, because Holly is going with us! I’ll be sending back reports as often as I have wi fi along with picture of just where Holly is as we walk the 190 miles across Cumbria and Yorkshire.

The first five days we’ll have lots of company, walking with a group of friends we often walk with in the Lake Disctrict, led by the amazing Brian Spencer and his equally amazing wife, Vron, who have been instrumental in my research for the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy. But the last nine days it’ll be just Raymond and Holly and me hoofing it across England.

The First Update:


 Now that the itinerary is set for B&Bs and the Coast to Coast is really going to happen, I’ve spent evenings pouring over the maps and studying the rout, getting butterflies in my stomach at anyplace I’m not clear on. And with moors and fells and ruins of mines and bogs and villages and farms and long stretches of open space, there are lots of places to be unclear on. Fortunately the C2C is a well-travelled walking trail, so we won’t be running the risk of falling off the edge of the earth, though we might occasionally run off the edge of the map. It’s by far the longest walk we’ve ever attempted on our own.

I’m confident of our navigation skills, and we’ve both trained for it, but we have one 24-mile day that will definitely be pushing our limits. I’m nervous and I’m excited and I’m already there in my mind. I’ve dreamed about doing this for a long time.

And what does any of this have to do with writing? Well, everything actually. I have two novellas and the another novel I have to walk. I’m just hoping 190 miles will be enough. And Holly, well she’s already a world traveller, so I expect her to acquit herself very well.

Today we drive to Cumbria.

Tomorrow…WE WALK!

 

Elemental Fire Blog Tour: Join Me for the Heatwave

Elemental Fire cover image finalI’m very excited to announce that April 22nd through 26th I’ll be on tour with the final book of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire.  For those five days, I’ll be visiting some of the most exciting websites and sharing the sexy, magical details of the life of the Elemental Coven with some of the most amazing people. And to help celebrate the tour and the release of Elemental Fire, I’ll be doing my best to conjure a little magic of my own by giving away a couple copies of book one of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Body Temperature and Rising.  That way, I figure we can keep the magic and the naughtiness going long after the tour is finished.

And to make sure you don’t miss any of the gossip and the magic and the giveaways, here’s next week’s schedule:

Monday 22nd April

Adriana Kraft  http://adrianakraft.com/blog/

Tuesday 23rd April

Donna’s Blog Home  http://donnasbloghome.blogspot.co.uk/

Wednesday 24th April

Words of Wisdom from the Scarf Princess http://wowfromthescarfprincess.blogspot.co.uk/ April

Thursday 25th April

You Gotta Read Reviews http://yougottaread.com/

Friday 26th April

Midnight Boudior http://midnightboudoir.org

Friday 26th April

Bliss Kiss (A happy snog to end it all) http://blissekiss.co.uk

kd-lht-buttonAnd here’s a little tease to get you going:

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

Excerpt:

‘Will you dream with him?’ Cassandra asked, as she handed Tara the last pot.

‘I don’t see that I have much choice, do I?’

‘Is it really that much of a hardship?’

They both turned to find Kennet standing in the door of the greenhouse.

Tara laid aside her dibber and gently touched Cassandra’s hand feeling the welcome buzz of her power. ‘Go and tell the others to prepare the Dream Cave.’

Once she was gone, she turned her attention back to her seedlings.

Kennet moved inside and pulled the door to. ‘I understand you not trusting me,’ he said. ‘I’d feel the same way, I’m sure. But Tara, I’m not the enemy. I need you to believe that.’ He rested a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened.

Carefully he removed it and turned his attention to stroking the leaves of the thyme plants. ‘You’re afraid,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

‘Aren’t you?’ She continued to fuss over the seedlings, mostly just to stave off the panic of his nearness.

‘Terrified.’ His answer surprised her.

She turned to face him and as she looked up into his eyes, it suddenly felt like she had looked into the sun.

‘But not for the same reasons you are,’ he said. He crooked a finger under her chin so she couldn’t look away. ‘Why do you make love only with ghosts?’

Everything in her wanted to turn and flee before it was too late, but she stood her ground and held his gaze. ‘It hasn’t ended well for the living when I’ve had sex with them.’

‘Are you afraid it won’t end well for me?’

She didn’t answer. She was afraid of what might happen if she tried to speak. There were too many memories too close to the surface, memories she had taken lifetimes to bury deep, and this man had dug them all up in only a few hours.

He took both of her hands, ignoring the compost on her fingers, then brushed a kiss gently across her lips, making her want like she hadn’t allowed herself to want in a very long time. Then he pulled away and brushed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. ‘I’m already dead, Tara. Physically I may not be a ghost, but I’m already dead. Everything that I lived for was taken from me seven years ago.’

She pushed him away. ‘Seven years? Only seven years? You’re not dead yet, Kennet. You haven’t even begun to die. You haven’t had nearly enough years to really beg for death, long for death, pray that it’ll come in the night and set you free.’ She reached for the staging table for support. Her knees were weak, her insides felt like snow on the wind. ‘But then you realize that you’ll be no freer of him dead than you are alive. So no, you’re not dead, Kennet. Don’t even wish for it, and if you think your pet demon will protect you, then you don’t know demons.’

This time he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her to him with such force that she gasped out loud. He took her mouth with stunning anger, like nothing she’d ever felt before, and she returned his assault with her own rage, meeting his tongue thrust for angry thrust, bruising his lips with the force of mouth and teeth, biting and aching, as he bit back. Then he pulled away breathless. ‘She’s not my pet demon, Tara and, trust me, I fucking know demons.’

Then they were kissing again as though they would tear each other apart, as though they would rip the very breath from each other in angry, scorched shreds. His hands moved to her hips, and he hoisted her onto the staging table, shoving aside the gypsy skirt until she could feel the rough wood against the silk of her panties. He fingered aside the crotch and she tried to squirm away from him. ‘I don’t fuck the living,’ she gasped against his mouth, then she bore down as his thick middle finger found its way between her labia and thrust upward. She pulled him to her even as she tried to push him away with her words.

‘Yes you do, as of this morning you do. You need it, I need it, and it’s time you stopped letting Deacon call the shots.’

She felt his last words like a slap and like an aphrodisiac at the same time, and everything in her felt wet with need. ‘Do it, goddamnit,’ she growled. ‘If you’re gonna do it, do it and don’t make me wait!’ She grabbed for his fly with an awkward grip from a bad angle that caused him to flinch and push her hand aside. ‘Damn it, get them off,’ she gasped, ‘I can’t wait!’

With trembling hands he practically ripped the zipper out of his fly, then shoved his jeans and boxers down around his hip and his erection bounced free from its exquisite nest of copper brown curls. The view was brief, and she told herself in a sliver of a thought that was left to her, that sometime she’d like to linger and explore, though in her heart she didn’t really believe she’d ever be afforded that luxury, so she’d take what he’d give her.

Once again he tore at her panties until they were stretched over one buttock and she could feel the cool air of the greenhouse against her gape, then while she held herself open, he cupped his hands under her arse and lifted her from the table, down onto his heft. With a grunt and a slight thrust, he pressed up into her, and she yielded like soft butter, then gripped like a fist. Then she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face back to hers, and their tongue dance matched the rhythm of the thrust and glide. Grunts became feral cries, throats became raw, and vision blurred in searing heat that had nothing to do with Lucia.

‘Great Goddess,’ he gasped. ‘If I’m not dead, I’m dying now, and it’s your fault.’

She bit his neck hard and he flinched and surged inside her tight grip. ‘You asked for it, and I don’t believe in making people beg.’

‘I can’t think of a better way to go,’ he grunted.

In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t dying right along with him, but it didn’t really matter, dead or alive, it was pretty much the same to her.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed between barely parted lips. ‘I can’t hold back any longer, woman. I have to come now.’ And as his cock convulsed inside her, and his groin raked upward against her clit, she came in great sobs that made her throat ache, that made her body feel like some animal, curled deep at her centre, had awakened ravenous and needy with an emptiness to fill that was bigger than the void. And strangely enough, Kennet Lucian felt like he might begin to touch the emptiness.

For a long time, he held her there, both of them gasping for breath, her arms and legs wrapped around him, his large hands cupping her bottom. ‘Tara,’ he whispered against her ear. ‘Please trust me.’

She ran a hand through his hair and nipped his ear with her teeth. ‘Then prove to me that I can.’

Lakeland heatwave banner1

 

 

 

 

Smooch Your Way to Blisse Kiss Valentine Yumminess

blisskiss chase bannerbkchase

With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, who else would be at the vanguard of the sexy, romantic, huggy, kissy, chocolates-and-roses celebration of love and lust but the fabulous team over at Blisse Kiss! Those lovers of love and connoisseurs of the kiss, Victoria and Mitnik have another fun celebration of the sexy snog. All you have to do for your chance to win Valentine yumminess is visit all the sites listed at blissekiss.co.uk and work out the password from the clues given on all the smooch bears. And the prize! A fabulous print book bundle. And yet another prize! eBooks and to spare! To win the eBooks you simply need to add up all the numbers on the smooch bears in each post and then follow the instructions on blissekiss.co.uk for what to do next.

Now here’s a hot snog from Kinky Boots to send you on you smoochy way.

Kinky Boots Blurb:

After a sizzling encounter in KINKY BOOTS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Kinky_BootsExpcerpt:

Everything in her went warm and liquid. Her breath caught at the feel of the leather as he guided the boot up over her heel. ‘I’ve never felt anything so soft,’ she said. ‘And they’re so pretty.’

‘Shoes should be a sensual experience,’ he said moving his large hands up to cup her calf while he settled the boot into place. Then his agile fingers began to work the laces, plucking at them, caressing them, stroking them almost as though he were making music on them, like they were some exotic stringed instrument of leather and lace. And though she couldn’t quite hear the melody, she felt the reverberation of his plucking and threading beneath the hem of the short skirt and all the way up into her warming panties.

‘Nice, huh?’

It took her a second to realise he was responding to her response. God, was she actually moaning? And please, surely she wasn’t grinding her bottom against the chintz. The blush flashed hot across her chest, but then instead of heading for her face, it headed south, settling against her clit with a heated, unexpected nip. And her moan became a yelp, just a tiny one, but a yelp nonetheless. She would have apologized, she would have died of embarrassment and fallen completely through the chair, but he was already working on the other boot, strategically sitting between her legs, breath slightly accelerated, and … Surely she was mistaken. But as he shifted to cup her calf and smooth the second boot against her leg, there was no disguising the erection growing inside the front of his jeans.

Everything below her waist clenched in appreciation, and she felt the heavy tingle of excitement up high between her thighs. The urge to rip aside the scrap of denim that was her skirt and the bit of satin that was her knickers, the urge to focus his attention somewhere far removed from her feet nearly took her breath away. ‘You like your work,’ she managed, not actually looking at his crotch, but not actually looking away from it either.

‘Very much,’ he said, working the laces through his nimble fingers, making no attempt to hide his boner.

Was it her imagination or could she actually smell him now? It was not deodorant, not soap, that she smelled but maleness. It was like baked bread and desert heat with some moist thick base note that she felt at the back of her throat rather than smelled. It made her hold her mouth slightly open to take in the fullness of his scent, like a cat taking in the scent of a rival or a possible mate.

Was it her imagination, or could she actually feel his breath against the place where her thighs rested on the chair, teasing just at the edge of her skirt. The growing warmth she now felt in her knickers was definitely not her imagination.

For a moment she closed her eyes, shutting out the precision movements of his fingers and the view of his body hunched almost protectively between her legs. Then she allowed herself to take in the picture of him that her other senses were painting so exquisitely. She heard the catch and slide of his breath, felt the velvet flutter of it raising goose flesh on the soft skin of her inner thighs. She inhaled the complex olfactory portrait of him, the scent emanating from his arm pits, his pulse points and the place where his cock strained in its tight confinement. She could feel his skin on hers as his fingers brushed her calf. It all created a picture of him almost as vivid as the one she had seen.

She opened her eyes just in time to watch him carefully, precisely, rhythmically tie the bow in the lace of the second boot. And as he tugged the looped ends snug against the knot, she felt a ripple up both legs that accelerated and intensified as it raced up between her thighs. It continued along her spine flashing red hot behind her eyes, leaving a plum coloured after-image of the clerk’s engrossed face.

She yelped and jerked in the chair, and the vertebrae in her neck pop. ‘Did you feel that?’ She was a hairs breadth away from tumbling into orgasm, and the man had done nothing more than lace her boots. He nodded, holding her gaze. His pupils were dilated, his breathing was fast. For a second neither of them moved. Time itself didn’t even move, like everything was holding its breath, like everything was waiting, just barely able to contain the anticipation, the excitement.

Then the world exploded back into real time, and she shoved her way out of the chair and onto the clerk who was still settled on his knees between her legs. He tumbled backward against the floor with a guttural sound somewhere between a groan and a growl just managing to adjust his position as she ground her way onto his lap, straddling his groin. The skirt had ridden up over her hips, and the crotch of her panties was the only thing preventing her bare ache against the tell-tale bulge in his jeans.

Smooch for Blissekiss ValentineskdgraceBefore he could say anything, she took his mouth in a clash of lips and teeth and tongue. He was more than accommodating, tongue darting, lips tugging in an effort that quickly escaped the confines of her mouth to nibble down over her jaw and wage a humid, ticklish assault on her nape, every nip of which she felt between her legs. He made quick work of her buttons, then shoved her blouse open and slid a bra strap aside to lift her right breast free to his cupping and kneading, free to be ravaged by his very expressive mouth. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ he whispered against her breast. ‘Not during working hours.’

‘But I need you,’ she said, then gasped and shuddered as he bit her nipple. ‘I’ll never make it back home like this. Don’t force me to take care of myself in an alley’

‘I’m supposed to be selling shoes, not fucking my customers.’

‘You are selling shoes.’ She wriggled her toes in her boots. ‘See. And who says we have to fuck?’

He offered a wicked chuckle, then rolled with her, and when he was on top, he lifted her legs around his hips so that his still-clothed erection raked between her still- pantied swell. ‘You’re absolutely right. We don’t have to fuck,’ he said, looking down at her with his ocean changeable eyes. ‘I always try to satisfy my customers.’ Then he shifted his hips until his girth ploughed a trough right in between the spread of her, pressing her panties tightly into her heat, the fabric binding with a little hitch right against the swell of her clit as he ground and thrust.

 

 

 

Eden Bradley’s Forbidden Fruit — A Tastey Treat

I’m very excited to have as my special guest today, the delicious Eden Bradley! And what a treat she has for us today, Forbidden Fruit, yummy and now available in the UK! AND there’s even more yumminess with a giveaway. Welcome, Eden!

FORBIDDEN FRUIT was originally released in the US in 2008, and is now available in the UK in paperback and for your Kindle, and has also just been reissued in the US! I’m so thrilled this book is having the opportunity to reach new readers-it’s long been a favorite of mine.
Having a personal history as a ‘cougar’ myself, I loved writing the older woman/younger man story. But my hero, Jagger, is forbidden fruit in more than one way. And the kink I explore in this story is one part forbidden, and often one part fruit, too. Think honey and chocolate syrup, strawberries and wine…things get messy, but luckily Jagger’s favorite fetish—seeing a woman wet in the shower—cleans things up. Except things tend to get dirty in the shower, too…: )

And Jagger…oh, he’s beautiful…loosely based on Lenny Kravitz, who I’ve had a long-time crush on, Jagger is a chef, and who doesn’t love a man who can cook? Let’s take a look at FORBIDDEN FRUIT.

Ever been tempted…?

While Mia Curry’s university students cram into her class on sexuality, Mia has always kept her own private fantasies carefully under wraps – until now…

Jagger James is everything Mia wants and everything that is taboo: he’s young, gorgeous – and a student.

But how can Mia resist?

From the bestselling author of THE DARK GARDEN comes an irresistibly romantic tale of forbidden attraction.
~~~~~~~~~~

Eden BayleyForbidden-Fruit-UK-200x315EXCERPT (Warning-it’s a little X-rated!)

“Do you have any honey, Mia Rose?” He stroked her nipples with his fingertips.

“Honey? Um…oh, don’t stop.”

He grinned a little wickedly. “I have more in mind for you. The honey?”

“Yes. In the kitchen.”

She was shaking all over already, imagining what he might do with it.

“Show me.”

She moved on unsteady legs into the kitchen with Jagger trailing behind her. Her mind was as numb as her legs. But she found the squeeze bottle of honey in a cabinet and silently handed it to him.

“Now the bathroom.”

She swallowed, nodded, then stepped into the hall, showed him the door. He smiled at her, moved past her, and turned the light on.

“Ah, this is perfect. I was thinking the shower, but this old tub. The claw feet. Oh, this’ll be Victorian porn.”

She laughed a little. But her entire body was steaming with lust. She could hardly wait for him to touch her.

He pulled his shirt over his head. His jeans went next, until he was standing naked in front of her. His cock was as beautiful as she remembered, hard and golden brown, the head swollen. She licked her lips as he slipped her robe from her shoulders. Ah, too good to be naked with him. She was soaking wet already.

He swept her hair from her face, picked up a clip from a basket she kept on the counter and piled her shoulder-length hair on top of her head. He leaned in to brush a kiss across her lips, whispered against them, “Now get in the tub, Mia Rose.”

“Oh. Oh…”

She did as he asked, with Jagger holding her arm as she stepped over the edge of the old porcelain tub. She felt more naked than she ever had in her life, standing in the middle of the bathtub, her nipples hot and hard, the porcelain cold and smooth beneath her feet.

“Sit down, baby. Yeah, just like that. Stay right there.”

He picked up the bottle of honey and licked his lips, watching her. She was absolutely dying for him to touch her, to put that slick, sticky honey on her skin. To do to her whatever he wanted.

“Do you know, Mia Rose,” he said quietly, “that until I met you I’d lost my passion for food. It was probably buried there, underneath the burnout. But you’ve brought it back for me. In ways I never expected. I wanted to tell you so you’d know this isn’t just for you. It’s for me, too.”
She nodded, unable to speak, her chest, her sex, aching with such keen anticipation she could barely think. The porcelain of the old tub was cool against her bare bottom. But the cold, the hard surface, all seemed part of it somehow.

Jagger leaned closer, raised the bottle, and squeezed a stream of golden honey onto her shoulder. She trembled as it hit her skin, dripped down in an endlessly slow track. And she felt suddenly as though everything were moving in slow motion: Jagger’s sultry smile, her own breath, the honey sliding over her shoulder, her collarbone, the curve of her breast. And the heat moving languidly through her system.
“God, Jagger,” she breathed.

He moved the bottle lower, squeezed it once more, and the honey flowed over her breasts while she watched, paralyzed by the current of desire shivering through her. Her sex swelled, pulsed, between her thighs.

Was this really happening?

When he moved lower, let the honey drip over her belly, her thighs, she could barely handle it. She wanted to spread her legs, to offer him her aching breasts, to beg him to touch her, to lick the honey from her skin. How exquisite to know he would in only a few moments.

And then he reached out a hand and began to smear the golden liquid over her: down her arm, which felt as sensual to her at that moment as though he’d slipped his hand between her thighs. Her mind was emptying out at an alarming rate, and she struggled for a few moments as his fingers traced that stickiness over the undersides of her breasts. Finally, she gave herself over to the inevitable. Let her mind go, gave her body entirely to him.

“Ah, Jagger.” This time it came out on a long sigh.

“Yeah, baby. You love this, don’t you? I can see it. In the way you’re breathing, in the way you hold your hands perfectly still. I’ll taste you soon. Lick every inch of your skin. But not yet.”

A tremor ran through her at his words, at knowing he would do everything he said he would.

Yes.

Then his hands were all over her, sliding in the honey, massaging it into her breasts. He played around her nipples, rubbing in circles, until the pure need for his touch made them hurt. But it was too good, the way he was touching her, torturing her, the waiting itself.

He spread the honey across her belly with his hands, and lower, into her dark curls. She shivered, moaned.

His voice was quiet, low, full of smoke. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Using his thumb, he pressed the stickiness into her clitoris. She groaned aloud, writhing, panting suddenly. And then he bent his head and slid his tongue over her throat, down to her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking.

“Jagger!”

Her hands went into his hair, into the dark, silky, gold-tipped curls. He sucked harder, paused to lick, to bite a little. Her body surged into his mouth, her hips arcing. Desire moved through her, sharper now, making her swell, ache, all over. She was nothing but heat and need, dizzy with it all.

Eden Bradley giveaway sanctuarycover150x225CONTEST! Talk to me here if you’ve ever recognized the sensuality of food. Is it the way chocolate melts on your tongue? A little experimentation in the bedroom with some champagne? Is it nothing more than an appreciation while browsing the gorgeously-colored produce at a farmer’s market? Or does it all seem a bizarre idea to you? And does anyone remember the food scene in the movie 9 ½ Weeks? That may have been a point of inspiration for me. I’ll be back to choose a winner tomorrow (US time) since ‘tomorrow’ for all of you is the middle of the night for me. : ) The prize is an e-copy of my kinky novella SANCTUARY!

***Just a note: my BDSM novel THE DARK GARDEN is available now in the UK, too, in paperback or for your Kindle! Many more of my books will be released there all through the year, including my ‘Edge’ series (written under my alternate pen name, Eve Berlin)—PLEASURE’S EDGE (out soon!), DESIRE’S EDGE and TEMPTATION’S EDGE, with more of my ‘Eden’ books after that!

Thanks to KD for allowing me to drop by for a visit! And I hope you’ll all visit me on my websites

Find Eden Bradley Here:

website links:
EdenBradley.com
EveBerlin.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/EdenBradley

Buy Links:
Forbidden Fruit: http://edenbradley.com/books/novels/forbidden-fruit/
Sanctuary: http://edenbradley.com/books/novellas/sanctuary/

 

Filthy Foodie Frolic & Giveaway

1323184152b53X5uWe just got back from the big Christmas grocery shop. It’s always a big event for us, buying those special ingredients for our Christmas feast. Raymond and I associate time spent together in the kitchen cooking with dating. We met, dated and married in the former Yugoslavia and a lot of our dating time was spent over preparing meals. We’ve never lost that association of meals prepared together with romance and dating. Our Christmas feast is even more special because it involves a melding of Raymond’s Southern upbringing and my upbringing in the Rocky Mountains, with a few British treats we’ve grown to love and appreciate in our time in the UK.

Though I’ve never written any seasonal erotica, as I think about the days leading up to Christmas and New Year, I can’t help thinking about all the feasting and celebrating that goes on during that time and how often, in romance, erotica, in story in general, scenes take place with the sharing of a meal. With that in mind, I’d like to share some filthy feasting from my stories with you for the holiday season, along with a giveaway for each new foodie frolic.

There’ll be three filthy feasting frolics between now and the 29th of December with three different giveaways. The dates are today, Christmas Day and the 29th.

Leave a comment about one of your favourite foodie memories. It doesn’t have to be sexy, but it can be. The winner for the first foodie frolic will receive a PDF of my novella, Migrations.

cover image stand-alone9781908917294_FCMigrations 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 murderer, 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.

 

 

And today’s Filthy Foodie Frolic is from my novel, The Pet Shop. There’s nothing more filthy than a frolic over breakfast with Tino!

The Pet Shop Blurb:

In appreciation  for a job well done, STELLA JAMES ‘s boss sends her a pet – a human pet. The mischievous TINO comes straight from THE PET SHOP complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, is extremely addicting.

Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, VINCENT EVANSTON, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

Excerpt:

Breakfast with Tino

Pets don’t like to eat alone. They prefer to sit on the floor by the table next to their keeper’s chair, where they enjoy being hand-fed. If this is not possible, place food in a bowl next to the water dish. Make sure meat is always cut into bite-sized chunks.

Note: The former is preferable, as most Pets and Pet keepers find sharing a meal in this fashion very enjoyable and apart of their bonding experience.

The manual was right. Once she got the hang of offering Tino choice morsels in her open hand, the laving of his velvety wet tongue, the slight nipping of teeth and curling of lips was lovely. He sat on his haunches, once again fully erect, resting his head on her naked thigh in between bites. If she hadn’t been ravenous, she would have never been able to concentrate on eating. He was as happy to nibble the mushrooms and tomatoes as he was the bacon and eggs. The toast with honey forced him to lick the sweet stickiness off the tips of her fingers, even occasionally off her thigh when her efforts were clumsy with the excitement of having such an exquisite creature eating from her hand.

She had had a similar sense of excitement the first time a horse had taken a sugar lump from her hand. That something so powerful, something The Pet Shop coverpotentially wild and dangerous had allowed itself to be fed by her was an exhilarating experience. At present, the magnificent beast on the floor insinuated himself a little closer to her with each bite, and she was pretty sure this wild animal had more than food in mind.

Tino scooted and wriggled himself until, at last, he sat between her legs, his humid breath warming her mons. With each morsel of food, he insinuated his waiting face a little closer to her pussy until her open palm with its offered titbit was practically resting against her pubis. When a particularly sticky morsel of toast ended up on the chair between her legs, he carefully licked up every bit from the chair, and then he continued lapping his way right on up between her legs.

She caught her breath with a little whimper and a jerk. The bite of toast she was about to offer slipped from her hand onto her belly. Tino wasn’t bothered. He simply squeezed in between the table and her body, forcing her chair back just enough that he could nibble and lick the toast and honey from her tightening abdominal muscles. That done, he picked up where he’d left off, nibbling and licking between her pouting labia.

Fascinated and aroused by his eating habits, she grabbed a handful of egg and wiped it across her breasts and down her stomach, licking the remains from her fingers, feeling a bit animal-ish herself. He raised his head again and worked his way up her belly nibbling scrambled eggs as he went, pushing her chair back farther and farther from the table.

She gave up on any semblance of proper table etiquette and slid onto the floor next to him. She grabbed the plate from the table on her way done, shoving a handful of egg into her own mouth before smearing more egg and a bit of tomato across her breasts and belly. Lying back she let Tino nibble and lap his breakfast off of her body until she was writhing and grinding on the floor beneath his enthusiastic tongue.

He surprised her by taking a rasher of bacon from the plate and offering it to her, mouth to mouth. It was almost like a porn version of Lady and the Tramp as they gnawed and nibbled their way to each other’s mouth tongues lapping and lips smacking the salty savoury taste of the meat.

She plucked a nice plump mushroom from the plate. It reminded her of the tip of a cock as she eased it between her slippery folds far enough that Tino had to work to get it out.

christmas-jingle-bells-thumb17244964But Tino didn’t mind working for his breakfast. And by the time he had extricated the mushroom, she was completely convinced his tongue was prehensile. His face glistening with her juices, the mushroom pressed daintily between his lips, he slid up her sticky body and offered her the morsel with its unique sauce of their lovemaking. Together they gulped down the tangy fungus between gasps for breath, breath which seemed to be harder and harder to get as their meal continued.

She gulped a bite of toast, then wiped the honey and butter from the remains of it in circular motions around her nipples. Tino watched wide-eyed, his cock standing at full attention, his balls resting heavily on his thigh.

 

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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