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Vintage KDG: The Birthday Present

Celebration birthday balloons_xl_35629278 I’m off to Birmingham for the ETO Show and Awards Banquet to party with the Brit Babes and, because I’m up to my eyeballs in edits for THE TUTOR, the next episode of The Psychology of Dreams is not quite ready yet, so I thought I’d offer you a filthy blast from the past. This is a shorty that has never been published. It’s very old and written very early in my attempts at erotica. I wrote it for Scarlet Magazine just before it shut its doors. After that, I promptly forgot about it. Remember, it’s a bit like looking at snapshots of me from high school … er … OK, not exactly, but you get the picture. Enjoy!

 

 

WARNING: X-Rated!

 

The Birthday Present

When my wife, Sarah, asks me what I want for my birthday, I jokingly tell her I want to see her kiss her best friend, Rita, who is really hot – long blond hair, lovely tits, which she never hides with a bra and legs that go on for miles. Sarah gives me that look of hers that says she’s scheming something and says she’ll see what she can do.

I come home the night of my birthday to a dark house, and Sarah calls me from the bedroom. I bound upstairs enthusiastically, expecting her to be sprawled across the bed in that sexy red number I love to take off her.

I stop dead in my tracks at the door, hardly able to believe my eyes. On the foot of the bed, sitting next to each other are Sarah and Rita, holding hands both in tiny skirts, both in bustiers. When they’re sure they have my full attention, Sarah turns without saying a word and gives her best friend some serious, lingering mouth to mouth with plenty of cock-stiffening tongue work.

When at last they come up for air, and I’m wondering how I’m going to keep from splitting the zipper out of my trousers, my wife wishes me a happy birthday. “I hope you don’t mind if we have dessert first.”

It quickly becomes clear I’m getting more than I asked for when my loving wife slides her hand under Rita’s skirt, making her squirm and bear down as she gives her a good probing. Then she holds her fingers to my mouth. “Taste,” she commands. “It’s your favourite flavour.”

I suckle her slick pussy-flavoured fingers with a groan struggling like hell to maintain control of my dick, now more than ready to play.

Sarah takes Rita by the hand and pulls her to her feet. “How do you like your present?” she asks.  Her hand finds its way to one of Rita’s lovely breasts. “Shall I unwrap it for you?”

I nod dumbly, eyes glued to the black bustier caressing Rita’s perfect rack as Sarah teasingly undoes the bow at the top and gives those eager nipples an appraising caress. “Lovely, aren’t they? Would you like to touch them?”

As if she needed to ask! Rita makes hungry animal sounds deep in her throat while I fondle and knead her breasts. My wife opens my fly, releasing my loaded cock, which Rita takes into her hand, and I can’t keep from noticing that Sarah’s hand is busy under her own skirt. The familiar scent of her permeates the room and my heavy balls feel like they’ll burst any minute

“You like that, don’t you?” Sarah purrs. “You’re gonna love this.” She gently turns Rita away from me and lifts her best friend’s skirt. Rita bends over the bed eagerly exposing her succulent rounded arse cheeks, her cleft covered only by a black silk thong, which my hot wife gently pulls to one side, and guides my hand to her friend’s soft spot. “There now. Isn’t that nice?”

With the tight rotation of Rita’s hips and her clenching pussy lips around my stroking fingers, I can hardly contain myself and I’m just getting ready to go in mouth first for good taste when she turns and drops to her knees. She looks up at me from under a flutter of thick lashes and whispers huskily. “Happy birthday, Tiger,” that’s the last thing she says for awhile because her mouth is full of my straining cock. Meanwhile, Sarah has dropped onto the floor next to her and they begin taking turns suckling me, with brief time outs to give each other lingering tongue kisses. I’m struggling to see what they’re doing down on the floor with their hands between each other’s legs. Whatever it is, it’s clear by their breathless moans and the growing pile of discarded clothing that it’s really good.

Then without warning they give each other the eye, and pull away from me. Rita produces a condom from somewhere birthdaycakeand gives me a wicked smile. “You need to put on your party hat if you want to play.” The two nymphs slip the condom over my pole, and my wife’s friend suddenly bent over in front of me, holding her cunt lips open in invitation. As I slip inside Rita, Sarah climbs on the bed and offers her hot box to her friend like a bitch in heat, and the licking begins. I’m going insane watching my wife being eaten by her best friend while I’m pistoning her like a wild man. None of us can last long under such conditions. Sarah comes first and bucks against Rita’s face like a mustang. Just as Rita screams her orgasm, I shoot my wad into her tight grip as her legs buckle beneath me and the three of us collapse in a heap on the bed.

I have to admit it’s the first time I ever had a birthday present play with me! I hope it’s not the last.

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Chapter 9

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nWelcome to Part 9 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which things turn darker still, and Leah’s dreams become harder and harder to navigate.

And yes! The fabulously talented Kev Blisse has worked his magic again with a great cover for The Psychology of Dreams! Thanks Kev! you’re the best!

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 8!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 8, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

A Reminder: Time got away from me this week, so please do remember that The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a work in progress, which means you are viewing the raw story before it’s polished up. That means in some cases it’s rawer in others. But it also means what you’re getting is as close to what’s coming out of my head as it’s possible to get — or as close as you really want to be anyway. 🙂 Enjoy the work as it unfolds.

 

Chapter 9 Whose Dream is Whose?

“But it was a dream, right?” Leah made no attempt to hide the desperation in her voice. “I mean they might have been in comas, but it was still only a dream.”

For a moment, Al didn’t speak, then he heaved a sigh that sounded like he bore the weight of the world. “Leah, do you have any idea the power dreams have? I mean if I — ”

“What happened,” she cut him off, swallowing back the sudden urge to scream. “Don’t lecture me. This is not your goddamned class. Just tell me what happened.”

“I got Derrick out by convincing him he could do Diana more good if we regrouped and tried to figure this out together. That was a mistake. She wouldn’t let us back in after that.”

“Jesus,” Leah whispered, feeling another wave of vertigo and lying back on the grass until things stopped spinning.

He lay down next to her. “We tried everything we knew – everything, but when it became clear we were helpless, we had to come clean. She was taken to the hospital. We lost our grant. Derrick barely avoided jail. I think he would have preferred to go to jail, actually. Living with the guilt, which was much worse. And the fact that the university let us off easy, covered everything off to protect its own ass didn’t help.” For a moment there was only the tinkling of the stream over the rocks and the whisper of a soft breeze in the fir trees. Leah might have been alone in the place lying there with her eyes clenched shut, wishing she would have never signed up for the damned class. Then Al took a deep breath and continued. “He blamed me for dragging him out of the dream and leaving Diana there. I blamed myself.”

“He shouldn’t have done it to begin with,”

“Hindsight is always better than foresight, isn’t it? Besides, he told me later she’d been hounding him about it for a long time. Diana was fascinated with the work we did. She’d even asked us once about that old wives tale, if a person falls from a high place in the dream world, if they don’t wake up before they hit the bottom, they’ll die. You know what I mean.”

“You think that’s what she was trying to find out?”

“We found out later she was … well she’d suffered from a psychotic break a year before we met her in grad school. She had stopped taking her meds, we found out. No, I think she knew exactly what she was doing, or at least what she was hoping to accomplish. You see, we always took detailed psychological and medical profiles of all of our subjects before we involved them in our work. They were all very carefully screened. But she … well she got to him and, frankly, he would have done anything for her. We both would have. We were both … well we both loved her.” He gave a tight jerk of a shrug. “She chose Derrick. I didn’t know they’d been sleeping together until that night.”

“It must have been a shock.”

He huffed out a jagged breath. “That’s an understatement. I was furious. My first response was to leave them there to be found out and just pretend I knew nothing about it. But it was as much my research as Derrick’s. Derrick was, well Derrick really didn’t need the money. He had an inheritance. I had nothing. I … had nothing.”

“What happened, Al? With Diana, I mean. Did she recover?” Even as she said it she knew the answer to the question with a knot of cold certainty low in her gut.

“She died.” His answer was blunt, unembellished.

In spite of the world spinning harder than ever she forced herself into a sitting position, “Fucking hell, Al, and you took me to this guy to sort out my little dream problem knowing what you knew, and you kept it from me.”

“Leah,” he sat up next to her and, when she tried to stand, but lost her balance, he guided her back down, putting her arm around her and settling her against his shoulder, her with her eyes clenched shut to stop the spinning. When she opened them again at last and took a deep breath, he was studying her. She could feel his intense gaze even in the darkness. “Leah, listen to me. I took you to Derrick because of your dreams, and most especially because of what was written in your dream journal the first time you dreamed about me. He quoted the words from her dream journal almost verbatim. “You look beautiful when you dream. It was a good dream, the kind you don’t want to wake up from. At last, you’re doing it right! You can always tell when you do it right by the way your nipples bead beneath the sheet, by the way your lips turned up at the corners, slightly parted as though waiting to be kissed. Your scent is the scent of dreams well dreamed, luscious and ripe. Well done! Well done!”

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6a“You memorized what was in my dream journal?”

“I didn’t have to. I memorized almost the exact same thing five years ago when Derrick wrote it for Diana, whispered it over and over in her ear until his voice was hoarse, trying to get her to let him back in.”

“What?” Everything in her wanted to run away and even though there was really no place to go, she might have if he hadn’t held her arm in a firm grip. “How the hell can that be?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But when I saw what you’d written, I knew I had to get you to Derrick, if nothing else to find out if he was getting inside your dream somehow, but he swore to me he wasn’t, that he had no idea what was going on. I, well, I would have told you, but I needed to be sure. And if I’d been wrong it wouldn’t have made any difference and you wouldn’t have had to be dragged into this.”

“I see,” she said, not really seeing at all.

“If I’d been right, then you would have had to know the whole story at some point, though I was hoping it wouldn’t be like this. “

“So why do you think he’s doing this, Dr. Clyde, I mean. Why do you think he’d want to manipulate our dreams? If everything you say is true, then he’s not just some pervert getting his jollies from other people’s sexy dreams.” She was a little surprised at just how calm she felt. The urge to run away had dwindled and she felt removed from it all somehow, rather than totally dropped in the middle of someone’s worst nightmare to be used as their pawn for reasons she was totally unsure of, but hey, life was like that sometimes, wasn’t it, and Al had a hard-on. He’d gone to stroking her thigh with tight circular motions inching his way higher, ever inward as he stroked and, for the past couple of minutes, she’d been unconsciously easing her thighs apart to encourage him. She was as slippery as he was hard, she realized. How the hell could that be when he had just dropped such a bomb? She forced her attention back to his words.

“You look like her, Diana, I mean. Oh it’s not a startling resemblance, not like twins or anything, but something in your mannerisms, your coloring, the way you carry yourself, and dreams, well dreams see detail in a different way. I’m not sure Derrick even noticed the resemblance, but then he wasn’t the one in your dreams, was he?” He broke off and caught his breath, which she realized was coming in desperate little gasps. “You wanna fuck, Leah? Because I’m desperate here, and you doing that only makes matters worse.” He nodded to her chest.

She was surprised to find that she was fondling her breasts. She didn’t remember when she started, but with the discovery, she realized that her whole body tingled with desperate arousal, the same desperate arousal she’d felt when they’d gone to Dr. Clyde’s office in the dream. “Yes, I do wanna fuck, actually.” It did enter her mind as he undid her jeans and slid them down over her hips, as she returned the favor that there was absolutely nothing arousing the situation in which they found themselves, and yet she was horny as hell. He shoved up her blouse and nibbled on her nipples in turn. She’d not taken the time for a bra since he’d been distressed and anxious to get away from her house as though Dr. Clyde might be listening from the water pipes or something. Perhaps he was, for all she knew, but as Al shoved her jeans and panties off onto the grass, she didn’t care. As Al fingered her open and kneed her legs a part to make room for himself, she didn’t even care that he wasn’t using a condom.

It was the insistent ping, ping, ping of the alarm on her cell phone getting louder and louder that brought her back to herself with a little yelp and a jerk that nearly unseated her from the booth at Eddie’s diner. The alarm on her phone was drawing the disapproving stares of the lovers and the waitress, who stood over their table with her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Leah gasped.

As she fumbled in her bag for the offending device, Al jerked convulsively into wakefulness from his side of the booth and catapulted to a standing position beside the table with a none-to-subtle, “What the fu …” Color rose to his cheeks as he took in his surroundings and settled back into the booth just as Leah shut off the alarm, still apologizing to the waitress and her fellow diners.

“Is everything all right?” The waitress studied them over the rim of her tortoise shell glasses and nodded down to their breakfasts, which were still steaming. “For a second there, I thought you were dead.” She offered a little laugh that was just this side of being really nervous.

“Fine, everything’s fine,” Leah managed. “I’m so sorry. Studying for exams, you know? Pulled too many late nights with too much caffeine.”

The waitress forced a smile that said she didn’t believe that for one minute, but this was Eddie’s Diner. She probably had actually seen stranger things, though not likely tonight she hadn’t.

They both watched as she returned to the counter, then Leah leaned across her waffles and hissed at Al, “you said we weren’t dreaming. You said this was real.”

“This is real,” he picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers and nibbled at it suspiciously.

“Then what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know.” He shoved the rest of the meat in his mouth and spoke around it. “At some point we were pulled back into your dream.”

“It couldn’t have been my dream. I’ve never been to that campground. My parents never took me camping.”

“Do you really think that matters at this point?” He said, shoveling in a huge bite of eggs. Then he nodded to her plate. “Eat, Leah. Whatever the hell’s going on, visiting the dream world unexpectedly like we just did takes a lot of energy.” And he was right. She was starving.

For a moment, the feeding frenzy took priority and, as they ate, Leah noticed that her head was beginning to clear. “The alarm. It pulled us back, didn’t it? I set it for yesterday. I had a Skype session with a client in another time zone. For me it was the middle of the night. I guess I forgot to delete it.” She reached for her phone to delete the alarm.

“No wait, don’t delete it. Set another one for a half an hour. In fact set it to go off every half hour.” He pulled his phone out. “I’ll do the same, only at the fifteen minute mark of yours. That way even if we are pulled back into the dream, we’ll have a built-in safety every fifteen minutes. As you can see,” he nodded down to their half-empty plates, “we weren’t in the dream but a few minutes and yet it felt much longer. Time runs differently in the dream world.”

As they set the alarms, the lovers paid and made their exit, and there was no one else in the diner. It was too early for the breakfast crowd and too late for the bar crowd. Oh, there might still be the odd rendezvous or someone working really strange hours, even a student or two, but not at the moment, so Al took advantage of the quiet. “Excuse me,” he said to the waitress, as she filled their cups, “but I want to apologize for what just happened and ask,” he shifted nervously and glanced down at his plate, “well could you tell me, did we do anything really embarrassing?”

“Well you didn’t drool or snore if that’s what you mean. It’s just that for a minute there, I couldn’t wake you up. Scared me really. I thought maybe you were on something. Thought I’d have to call the cops, but I’ve seen you both in here before, so then I start thinking that something sinister is going on.” She offered an embarrassed shrug. “You wouldn’t believe some of the strange things that go on at Eddie’s on the graveyard shift,” she gave them a dramatic roll of her eyes, “but then the alarm went off and you both woke up, so I figure no harm no foul as long as you pay the bill and tip the waitress for her efforts.” She offered them a broad smile.

Al dug in his pocket. “Here, I’ll just take care of that now and give you a little peace of mind.” He handed her a wad of bills.

She glanced down at the money and smiled back at him. “Hon, you can sleep in my booth any time.” Then she left as two retired men came through the door and settled at the counter.

For another moment, they shoveled in the food and Leah was just reaching for her last sausage link when it hit her. “Al, you said that the message in my dream journal is the same message that Dr. Clyde used to try and get through to Diana.”

america-artist-art-paintings-prints-note-cards-by-howard-chandler-christy-nude-women-reading-approximate-original-size-18x16“That’s right, why?”

“Well, what about your message? What exactly did it say?”

He took a slow sip of his coffee and wiped his hands on his napkin, delay tactics, she thought, but at last he spoke. “You have to be punished. It’s the only way you’ll get any relief. Until you take what’s coming to you, there’s no real satisfaction, and no walking away. Stay in the dream.” It’s been recurring since Diana’s death, but then it all but stopped until I met you.”

The room felt suddenly ice cold and gooseflesh climbed Leah’s spine on little barbed feet. “Al, why would you get that message? That message sounds like it’s intended for Dr. Clyde. From Diana.”

 

Hot New Release from Lily Harlem – DESK JOB

Desk-Job-evernightpublishing-JayAheer2016-finalimage-1Hot off the press is Lily Harlem’s latest ménage a trois novel based in London, Desk Job. Her London Ménage set of books are taking off, the first one Muscling In has received many 5* reviews and Desk Job is set to do the same. Currently working on the third book in this series, Lily says she never believes three is a crowd, and in her opinion more is definitely merrier!

Here’s the low down on Desk Job, which, incidentally, can be enjoyed as a standalone read, these books are only very loosely connected.

 

Desk Job

It’s just another PA job, right? Okay, the CEO is hot, and his partner hotter, but that doesn’t mean Stella Wright has to fall for their erotic brand of seduction. Does it?

Who is she kidding? Stella is only human, she has bills to pay and insecurities about how she looks the same as we all do. So when Andre Bramon asks her to work on more than just dictation she can’t resist.

Tristan Wainwright is a different matter. Brooding and dark, he barely has time to ask her to do anything. Then when he does finally pause, noticing her, all that pent up energy reaches a boiling point.

Before long Stella is swept up in a passionate love affair with not one man, but two. She never expected a threesome to be part of her job description, though now…well, perhaps it might prove to be the perfect solution to a whole host of her problems.

 

Excerpt

“I’m going to apologize in advance for this … but I can’t help myself.”

He ran his hand around the back of my neck, his fingers slotting into my hair, and pulled me closer. He pressed his lips 11255459_10152820816219149_811838467847775418_nagainst mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as he dragged me to him.

I released a groan of longing. He tasted exactly how I’d imagined—dark heat and man, a hint of coffee.

Releasing my grip on the chair, I grasped his shoulders. Beneath his cotton shirt was hard muscle. Damn, why was that shirt in the way?

He moaned into my mouth as he stroked over the top of my stockings, tracing the lace with his fingertips.

He kissed with the same skill and intensity as he approached his work. I surrendered to it. Allowed him to whisk me up into a heady soup of lust.

Could we? Here?

Fuck.

What am I doing?

I tore my lips from his.

He didn’t stop kissing me and traveled his lips over my cheek to my neck.

“Tristan.”

“Mmm, Stella. You’re so sexy. You’ve got me crazy for you. All week … how you look, talk, hell the way you walk…”

“No…” What about Andre? “But.”

“No, buts. Please, no buts.” He cupped my cheek and looked into my eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I pushed at his shoulders and tore my gaze from his. “I can’t.”

He tugged his hand free of my skirt and stood, releasing me. A flash of disappointment went over his face and I couldn’t help noticing a large bulge behind his zipper.

“Forgive me.” I stood, and in a strange, limping gate, rushed to the ladies’ restroom. I pushed through the door, then stood at the sink, staring into the mirror at my smudged lipstick.

My mind was swimming. What the hell was going on with me? I was a one-man woman. I never cheated. I didn’t two-time. That wasn’t who I was.

But Andre and I were hardly in a relationship. We’d had a night of fun. We were going for lunch tomorrow.

It was the start of something.
But I wanted to start something with Tristan too.
I liked him, more than liked him. I wanted him. I wanted his body, I wanted his mind, I wanted the special smiles that he seemed to save just for me.

“Stella. Please, come out.”

I glanced at the door. Tristan had opened it a fraction, though I couldn’t see him and he couldn’t see me because it opened in the opposite direction.

I didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s not your fault.” I reached for a tissue and tidied my smudged lipstick.cad922038872d61b85c9d22c7e326744

“Clearly it is. Please, come out here and let’s talk this through. I can explain.” “Explain?”

“Yes.”

I ran the cold water and put my wrists under the flow. It was as if a fire were burning inside of me.

“I promise you, Stella, there really is no reason to be so upset.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”
I turned off the water. He knew nothing.

“Please … otherwise I’ll come in there and get you.”

I didn’t doubt it.

I went to the door. As I reached it, my broken shoe emerged around the small opening. The heel appeared reattached.

“I fixed it.”

“That was quick.”

“I’m known for efficiency.”

Of course he is.
I took it and, with one palm placed on the wall, slipped the shoe back on.

“It probably won’t hold for long. But it will get you home,” he said.

I opened the door fully.

Tristan had one hand against the frame, his elbow locked. When he saw me, he released it and straightened.

“Thank you.” I stepped past him. “For fixing my shoe.”

“Stella, let me explain.” He gripped my upper arm and spun me to him, not roughly but not completely gently either.

My breath hitched as I looked into his earnest face.

“There is nothing to explain, Tristan. I like you, really I do…” And yes, given the chance I’d roll into bed with him in a heartbeat. He was someone I wanted to get to know better in every sense of the word, much better. “But I’m seeing someone.”

His eyebrows twitched, then he nodded. “I know.”

“How … But…?”

“Andre.” He kind of shrugged then released my arm. “It’s not a big deal.”

“How can it not be a big deal? He’s your business partner.” Damn, had Andre told him everything, the way I’d wondered if he had?

“He’s more than a business partner. He’s my best friend. We’ve been through the good and the bad times together and you…”

“Me?”

“We’d definitely like you to be the good times.”

“I’m not following…” I patted my hair, it was messy at the back from where he’d ran his fingers through it. “Why did you kiss me if you knew I was seeing Andre?”

“Because I know he won’t mind, not in the least.”

“How do you know that?” Most blokes I knew would mind very much if another guy kissed the girl they were seeing. “Is he missing the jealousy gene?”

Tristan gave a twisted smile. “Oh no. I can’t imagine he’d want anyone else touching you, kissing you, but me … well that’s different.”

“How? Because you’re friends, because you’re close?”

“That and…”

“And what?”menage1

“Well…” He shifted from one foot to the other. “We decided a while ago that we needed a personal assistant to share, one person who understood what the other was doing so that our diaries and commitments didn’t clash.”

I nodded. I understood that.

“And we also decided…” He hesitated.

I wondered what the hell he was going to say next. I hadn’t known Tristan to be anything other than super confident but he was standing before me now, slowly gathering words. “What did you decide?”

“That not only do we want to share a PA, we also want to share a woman.”

 

To continue reading, please purchase from…

 

Evernight Publishing, Amazon, Amazon UK, ARe or your favourite retailer.

 

lily-harlem

 

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Pride Publishing, Evernight Publishing, All Romance eBooks, and Sweetmeats Press. Her work regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot, In Expert Hands and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily writes MF, MM and ménage a trois, her books regularly hit the #1 spot on Amazon Best Seller lists and Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2014. Her latest MM novel is Dark Warrior.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Trilogy – The Novice, The Player, and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Check out Lily’s website for details of her other books and her Amazon Author Page. Subscribe to her newsletter to be the first to hear of new releases and free reads, and if you enjoy Facebook, hop on over there and say hi!

 

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Find Lily on the web.

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Kabana Wild (Tropical Duet #1) by Josie Jax (@josie_jax) #SportsCarSex #menage #LGBT

Kabana WildBlurb:

Kabana Wild: Tropical Duet 1

Three people…three depraved plans…one inferno of scandalous pleasures.

Movie star Mitch Wulfrum is tired of deflecting the gay rumors buzzing around him. It’s time for drastic measures to suppress them once and for all–even if it means marriage in name only to the first trophy wife he can get his hands on. And beautiful sugar-cane princess Kiona ‘Alohi fits right into his plan.

Kiona can’t believe her luck when she’s presented with Mitch’s proposition. Her overbearing father is dangling her trust fund over her head as an enticement to dump her oh-so-sexy, but oh-so-unsuitable lover, Nakolo. A bogus marriage to Mitch will net her everything she wants–money and love, even if she can only have Kol on the sly.

What she doesn’t expect are the sexual sparks that fly between her and Mitch, or, when Kol catches them together, the heat that flares between the two men. One scandalously pleasurable encounter after another fans the flames of attraction, until they begin to dream that all three of them could have everything they ever wanted–and more than they ever expected.

An intricate, fragile web of lies and deceit are all that keep their wanton secrets from erupting into the public eye. Trouble is, one scheming photographer named Anjelee has already clicked the shutter that could ruin all their lives.

Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://bit.ly/KW_amz2

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/22K01el

Amazon AU:  http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01CF79ML8

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/kabana-wild-tropical-duet-i.html

Kobo: http://www.loose-id.com/kabana-wild-tropical-duet-i.html

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Josie_Jax_Kabana_Wild?id=qgWoCwAAQBAJ

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-kabanawild-1992567-149.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0

 

Josie JaxAuthor Bio, Website, & E-mail:

Josie Jax is the new pseudonym for a USA Today bestselling author of erotic romances in various genres. She lives in the Midwest and dreams of becoming a crazy cat lady by rehabbing an old barn into a fancy mansion for stray cats and stranded kittens.

Please visit Josie’s website at http://www.JosieJax.com or feel free to email her at josiejax1@gmail.com.

Author Social Links:

https://www.facebook.com/josie.jax

https://twitter.com/Josie_Jax

 

 

 

Blog Post including Excerpt:

Hot Sports-Car Sex in Books

By Josie Jax

What’s your hottest car-sex moment? I’m sure most of us have been there…in a cramped back seat with a lover, twisting like a pretzel, and making the most of every inch of car space.

As an author of erotic romances for over twelve years, I’ve written countless lovemaking scenes from vanilla missionary to…how shall I say…creative, sometimes acrobatic scenes.

During the editing process for authors, we go through first or second rounds, line editing, proofing, and so on. When my book was in the proofing stage, the proofer commented on Twitter about the first in my Tropical Duet series with Loose Id (Kabana Wild—book 1, now available; and Jamaica Wild—book 2, coming April 5). The proofer’s tweets:

“OMgawd hyena laff while proofing Kabana Wild

And:

“I will never look at a sports car in the same way again”

There is a lot more #hotsex that follows the below scene in the book (and in the book as a whole), but here’s a snippet of the sports-car lovemaking chapter to get your engine revving. 😉 Now get mine revving—share your hottest car-sex stories!

P.S. Jamaica Wild: Tropical Duet 2 by Josie Jax releases April 5, 2016.

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Excerpt:

 

He thirsted for her as always, but how to get his final fill of her in this cramped little sports car?

Nakolo, the sunroof… It was as if Pele whispered the solution in his ear.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

“S-stand up?”

“You heard me. Stand up. Remove your shoes, plant a foot on each seat, and stand up so your top half is through the sunroof.”

Her mouth fell open, and a sound that resembled a wheeze tore from her throat. He watched as she blinked, scanned the inside of the car, and looked up through the sunroof. Nakolo knew the precise moment understanding dawned on her.

For a full thirty seconds, she stared deep into his eyes, her own tearing up. She finally understood his desperation and intense desire to have her, to reclaim what was his after seeing her with another man.

Kiona twisted, assuring the car remained in park, and removed her shoes. She reached for the sunroof’s edge and pulled herself to a standing position. She was a tall woman, and it was a small car, so with her feet placed as wide as she could get them on each front seat, the roof came to waist level.

She set her elbows and forearms on the roof and leaned on them. “I’m ready,” she whispered down to him.

He scooted forward and drew up her dress, stuffing the front hem beneath the garment’s waistband. And there it was, her jewel—his jewel. Nakolo’s mouth watered, and his balls throbbed, engorging like a balloon ready to pop.

Hemolele! Mmm, my love, you are so gorgeous, so”—he swiped his tongue up her slit, eliciting a scream from her—“delicious.”

The flavor of cream and faint salt burst in his mouth. Holy islands, she was wetter than the sea. He drew back and studied her toned thighs and the top of the V they held dear. Except for a small patch of dark curls above her clit, she always kept her pussy shaved for him so he could feel her silky lips on his tongue or encircling his shaft. The labia were smooth and naturally tanned, her nub pink and swollen, emerging at the top of her cleft like the early bloom of a hibiscus. God, what perfection!

Nakolo couldn’t delay any longer. He wrapped his arms around her hips and reached behind her. Sinking one finger into her dripping-wet puka, he closed his mouth over her swollen bud.

She screamed again, this time far louder. He heard her hands slap the roof and rejoiced when her voluptuous body spasmed in his arms, against his face. He flicked his tongue over her clitoris while gazing upward through the sunroof. She was like a siren of the sea. He watched as the Pacific winds blew inland, tossing her hair in a wild mass, her breasts perky mounds, her face contorted in ecstasy.

Her pelvis did a swiveling dance, abrading over his face. She growled, reaching for that pinnacle that always came so easily for her. Nakolo pumped his finger faster, adding another, then a third. She spread wider, accommodating him, coating his fingers with her stickiness. With his tongue, he thoroughly explored every fold, crease, and little bulge, knowing the time would come very soon when he would have to yank her down into the car and plunge himself into her.

She was almost there, he could tell by the stiffening of her dance and the animal mewls escaping from deep in her throat. But somewhere in the sexual blur of his mind, Nakolo heard the hum of a car engine. He whipped his head around to see a sleek Mercedes pull up behind Kiona’s car.

“Goddamn it,” he swore when he saw none other than Mitch Wulfrum—the damn movie star—unfold himself from the driver’s seat and stride toward Kiona’s car.

Kiona’s windows were darkly tinted, so most likely Mitch couldn’t see Nakolo. If Mitch had spied Nakolo’s truck back at Jager’s house, he’d probably know Nakolo sat in her car. But if he hadn’t peered out the window at Nakolo’s boyish antics, Mitch wouldn’t know whose truck it was and might assume Kiona was alone and the truck abandoned.

Not knowing one way or the other added an edge of excitement to the unexpected situation. Nakolo’s loins simmered with reluctant fire. Did he want to be discovered or not?

As Mitch approached the driver’s side, Nakolo studied the strikingly handsome face, the tall, lean body…and the bulge in the jeans Mitch now wore. Nakolo swore under his breath. Why was it he found the sight of this man sauntering nearer so very arousing while Kol orally pleasured Kiona? Where had his anger gone? And why hadn’t he demanded an explanation from Kiona about her tryst with this man before Kol had dived right into satisfying his sexual urges?

“Mitch, what are you—what are you doing here?” Kol heard Kiona choke out.

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You Never Forget Your First Time: Lisabet Sarai’s New Expanded RAW SILK

rawsilk_revamp_400Raw Silk

New, expanded edition!

 

I published my first erotic novel in 1999. I’ve had many releases since then, but Raw Silk holds a special place in my heart. I was so innocent when I penned this story. I’d never read any romance, and relatively little erotica. I knew nothing at all about the publishing world. All I had were my own fantasies and memories, which I burned to share. Although the book was not in any sense autobiographical, it drew heavily on my personal experience. It has always been one of my most popular works, partly, I think, because readers sense the emotional authenticity of the tale. Kate’s sexual journey mirrors my own, not in detail, but in spirit.

 

Now Totally Bound has given me the chance to revisit that book, revising and expanding it for re-release. It has been a thrill to follow Kate once more through the twists and turns of her adventures in Bangkok. Meanwhile, I’m delighted to have the chance to apply the accumulated knowledge from sixteen years of writing to polish the prose, making the tale shine even more brightly.

 

 

Raw Silk Blurb:

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic proprietor of a sex bar.

Each touches her in a different way, each teaches her different things about her body and her heart.

Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that, finally, she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

 

 

Totally Bound, 2016

Contemporary romantic erotica (Five flames)

 

 

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of M/M and F/F sex, sex with multiple partners, scenes of mixed ménage, scenes of dubious consent and forced cunnilingus, voyeurism, exhibitionism, sex in public places, pegging as well as the use of inanimate objects during sex scenes.

 

 

Raw Silk Excerpt:

ThaiPavilionGregory turned to Noi. “Help her get ready. I promised her that no one would know who she was.”

“Kate, put yourself in Noi’s hands. She’s an expert.” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Remember, I will be watching.” She felt a hard pinch on her bottom. “Break a leg,” he said in a jocular tone, then was gone.

Noi took Kate by the hand. “Sit here,” she ordered, “and take off your shirt.” Kate stripped off the T-shirt. She was bare-breasted beneath, but the women around her did not give her a second glance. She sat at the dressing table that Noi indicated, looking at herself in the mirror.

She was flushed. Her green eyes seemed darker than usual, and sparkled with suppressed excitement. The few freckles on her pert nose seemed especially prominent. She looked pretty, alert, and very Irish.

Meanwhile, her nipples were red and rigid, perched high on her full breasts. Touch me, they almost screamed. Pinch me, suck me.

As if reading her thoughts, Noi caught her left nipple between a thumb and forefinger, and gave a little twist. Kate gasped. “You will be very popular,” observed the mamasan dryly. Kate couldn’t help blushing.

Noi began to apply makeup. Kate watched, fascinated, as her ruddy skin became pale, her freckles disappeared, her eyebrows darkened and arched, her eyes became shallow and almond-shaped. In a short time, she was looking at an Asian beauty, perhaps half-Thai, half-American, with moist, full lips and curly red hair.

“My hair…” she protested. Noi reached behind her and produced a wig of straight, black locks. She gathered Kate’s own ringlets into a tight ponytail then fitted the wig.

The transformation was complete. Black bangs cut across her forehead. Black tresses decorated her shoulders. She looked nineteen instead of twenty-eight. And, most assuredly, Thai.

The other girls gathered around. “Oh, madam, you look so beautiful.” Kate couldn’t help but smile, surrounded as she was by gorgeous female faces and forms.

“Here is your costume,” said Noi. “Gregory selected it especially for you.”

Kate grew a little paler. Was she really expected to wear this, in public? She looked at Noi in silent entreaty, but the mamasan just grinned. “Get dressed,” she said. “The dancing will start in just a few minutes.”

TempleGuardianA corset of black vinyl, laced up the front, which cinched her waist and left her breasts bare. The briefest of G-strings, a tiny vinyl triangle that barely hid her bush plus a thong that settled deep in the crevice between her buttocks. Thigh-high vinyl boots with four-inch heels. And, finally, the leather collar she had last worn while Gregory had taken her from behind.

Fully attired, she checked herself in the mirror once more. A stranger stared back, a sultry Asian temptress. The body was more voluptuous than was typical for a Thai, full breasts and thighs that belied the woman’s youthful face. Her red-painted lips were half-open, luscious and inviting. Her skin shone already with a light sheen of sweat. Kate raised her arms above her head and swiveled her hips, as she had seen the other dancers do. The figure in the mirror moved gracefully, languidly, every motion beckoning the viewer to watch, touch, taste, possess her.

“Here is your number.” Noi handed her a plastic chip with a pin on the back. Kate had noticed all the girls wearing them. Apparently they served as a simple accounting mechanism, for tallying the tips the girls received whenever a customer bought them a drink. She smiled wryly, noting that Gregory had assigned her the number sixty-nine.

 

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)

Amazon US

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/raw-silk-lisabet-sarai/1102328201?ean=9781786510051

Totally Bound

https://www.totallybound.com/raw-silk

All Romance

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-rawsilk-1992519-147.html

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28603390-raw-silk

 

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Review Quotes

“This is by far one of the best erotic novels that I have read and it fully deserves every one of the five ribbons I am giving it! But it does make me wonder what the characters could do with them.” ~ Maree Schuler, Romance Junkies (Five Ribbons).

 

“[Kate’s] character grows and she comes to realize her inner needs along with her deep sexual desires. Lisabet Sarai has a flair for sexy, sensuous romance with an edgy feel. I cannot wait to read more by this talented author.” ~ Dawnie, Fallen Angels Reviews (Five Angels).

 

“The Bangkok setting is fascinating and adds to the overall feeling of opulent sensuality. Lisabet Sarai deftly shows the country without ever letting the descriptions take over the story. Good BDSM novels are voyages of self-discovery, and Raw Silk is a journey you’ll enjoy taking.” ~ Kathleen Bradean, Erotica Revealed

 

“…this is one SIZZLING read (the ending was incredible) and should not be put on the back burner of your ‘to read list.” ~ Alyssa, Amazon review (Five stars)

 

About Lisabet

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

 

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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