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The Pet Shop: A Free GIFT

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I’m very excited to announce a free taste of my critically acclaimed novel, The Pet Shop! Alongside the original novel, The Pet Shop is now being offered by Xcite in a limited Kindle edition three-part series. The first part, The Gift is available for FREE for the next five days on Amazon beginning on Saturday 16th June. And, since Xcite is only too aware that Pets are addicting, to help feed your addiction for hot kinky romance, Part Two, The Secret Life of Pets, and Part Three, The Taming, are just £.77 each in the UK and $1.19 in the US.

The Gift Blurb:

In appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a Pet – a human Pet. The mysterious Tino arrives equipped with a collar a leash and an erection, and Stella quickly learns that keeping Pets, especially this one, is extremely addictive. Will a chance meeting with reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks an awful lot like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, double Stella’s pleasure or just be double trouble?

About The Pet Shop

The Pet Shop is a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast. In part, the theme of the story is our effort to understand the beast that lives within all of us, to tame it and make it acceptable to polite company. Of course in the taming of anything wild we run the risk of losing that wildness that compelled us to love it in the first place. The Pet Shop explores the effort to find a balance between the two.

I’ve always been fascinated with our animal nature, and I’ve often wondered how much of that nature is ancestral behaviours reasserting themselves and how much of it – especially from the standpoint of the human pet situation I’ve created in The Pet Shop, is simply a need to be loved and adored, and to be able to trust someone enough to give up control to them.

Beauty and the Beast and my retelling of it in The Pet Shop are both about seeing the true nature of a person, with all their flaws and neuroses, and loving them anyway. But ultimately the story is also about trusting enough to allow oneself to be loved, and believing that one is worthy of love, warts, blemishes and all.

Excerpt:

‘I’m sorry, Tino,’ Stella shoved to her feet, tearing her gaze away from the gorgeously horny man sitting on the floor by her chair. ‘But I just can’t do this. If I had known what Anne – what Strigida – had planned for me, I would have never consented, surely Anne knew that. Anyway, I feel really bad that I’ve wasted your time, but this is just not something I can do.’

The pet only looked up at her with adoring and expectant eyes.

‘I’ll gladly give you taxi fare home, of course. I mean that’s the least I can do. None of this is your fault, after all. Anne told me that you were a gift, so I assume you’ve already been paid.’ She raced through the last sentence breathlessly, her face burning at the very thought that the company had paid for a prostitute for her.

Did they really think she was that desperate? And never mind how desperate she was, surely she had worked at Strigida long enough for them to realise this was not the gift for her. And she was bloody well certain Anne knew that. There would definitely be words when she returned from Bath. ‘Is that all right, if we do that? If we just call it even and I get you a cab home?’

Tino made no response. Instead, he rubbed his cheek affectionately against her leg and moved to sit back on his haunches, a position that made his erection look even more enormous, bulging heavily against his thigh. At the sight, her stomach muscles tensed low and tight and her pussy clenched and half convulsed.

‘I forgot,’ she looked down at the manual still gripped in one hand, ‘Pets don’t talk. But since I really don’t want a Pet, couldn’t you break the rules just this once?’

He brushed her leg again with his cheek, then with his lips, making delicious shivers run up her spine.

‘Guess not. OK. Well, I realise this is an awkward situation, Tino, and I’m really sorry about that. I know you’re expected to stay here. I appreciate your position. Really I do. I’m sure we’ll get through this if we work together.’ She nodded down the hall. ‘I have a guestroom. You’re welcome to sleep there. It’s small but comfortable.’ He followed her on silent feet, and looked on as she showed him the guestroom.

‘The closet’s there.’ She pointed. ‘Though I guess you won’t need that. Extra toiletries are on the dressing table there. Those you might need. And the remote for the telly, well it’s a little tetchy. Here let me show you.’ Suddenly she realised he wasn’t paying any attention. His gaze was locked on her – more specifically on her crotch. She blushed hard and forced a smile. ‘Never mind. I imagine you can figure it out if you decide you want to watch telly. Anyway, make yourself at home. Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink?’

Again, he plopped down on the floor. This time he wrapped his arms around her leg and began to rub his cheek against her thigh.

‘Tino, really. I don’t think I can …’

He made little grunting sounds and shifted his hips forward and back. If anything, his erection seemed still bigger. She suddenly remembered the manual said the Pet Shop kept their Pets horny. Hadn’t Anne said he usually didn’t have to wait this long before he came?

She found herself blushing again at the sight of his heavy hard-on. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how … uncomfortable you must be. I know you’re not allowed to touch yourself unless your keeper gives you permission, and, well, since we can’t, since we’re not going to …’ She nodded to his cock. ‘It’s all right with me if you do what you need to do. You know, for some relief.’ She felt like her face would burst into flames.

For a long moment he looked up at her with his bottomless cinnamon eyes, as though he couldn’t quite comprehend what she wanted of him. Then, slowly, carefully, holding her gaze, he laid a hand against his cock and ran a curled palm up the length of it. A shudder ascended his spine. He threw back his head and released a trembling breath that ended in a deep animal groan at the back of his throat.

Almost before she realised it, she replied with a little whimper of her own that slipped between her lips. Her nipples pearled through the thin silk of her blouse, and her pussy felt slick and giddy. She closed her eyes only for a split second, but the next thing she knew, Tino was standing beside her, so close that her hand, resting low against her belly brushed his cock, and they both gasped at the feel of it. Before she could do more than marvel at the velvety softness that felt like it sheathed granite, he pushed in closer, and his large hand engulfed hers easing it gently against his cock with just enough pressure to encourage her fingers to wrap around the girth of him.

She should have stepped back, she should have commanded him to stay in the room and do what he needed to do and not come out until he was done. But she didn’t. Instead she curled her fingers around him and felt his hand tighten over hers. She expected him to hump like a dog, but he only stepped closer, engulfing her in a feral scent not unlike cat fur on a sunny day.

The shifting of his hips was almost invisible but for the tensing of the muscles low in his hard belly, tightening and lifting until his soft pubic curls just grazed the inside of her wrist. Instead of the blatant sexuality she expected, he simply laid his head on her shoulder, his warm breath raising the fine hair along the back of her neck. His heart hammered a heavy drumbeat that matched her own, and her nipples seemed to be pressing ever forward to get nearer to it.

His free arm encircled her, resting just above her hip, where his hand moved in a gentle caress up and down her ribs, almost tickling. The sensation of it all accumulated warm and heavy just below her belly. The heat of his lips rested close to the pulse of her neck. They were slightly parted, his breath coming in fast little puffs.

She knew she should be pushing him away, making him bend over for the spanking a misbehaving Pet deserved. She hadn’t asked him to touch her, and she hadn’t volunteered her services. ‘You’re a very naughty Pet, Tino.’ She barely managed to gasp before he tensed, and a strangled groan escaped his throat just as his cock twitched and she felt the silky slick heat of his come spill over both of their hands and against his bare belly. Then his whole body convulsed, and involuntarily he pulled her tight against him, an act which sent her into her own convulsions. She let out a startled cry. She hadn’t expected to come. She hadn’t intended to come, and yet there she stood quivering out her pleasure against the Pet, who held her in a powerful, sex-stimulated bear-hug.

From Amazon.com

The Gift

The Secret Life of Pets

The Taming

From Amazon.co.uk

The Gift

The Secret Life of Pets

The Taming

 

The Secret Library Blog Tour: Constance Munday

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It’s my pleasure to welcome Constance Munday back to my site, here today on Xcite’s fabulous Secret Library blog tour. Welcome back, Constance! 

I loved writing Silk Stockings and was delighted it headed this fabulous little book of novellas by such talented authors.

It was a seed of a short story at first but I was thrilled to have the opportunity to develop it and I soon fell in love with my characters Imogen and Michael.  If possible I like to set my stories in different settings to make for a bit of interest and there was just something about Imogen and Berlin in the post-war years which really appealed.

Silk Stockings is not your average erotic story.  Yes, it’s very hot but it’s also a love story set against the odds.  I don’t want to give too much away but Imogen is caught in an impossible situation.  Scared and fleeing her dark past she has forbidden herself love until that is, she bumps into handsome American Michael Levenstein in a bar.

Michael seduced by seductive burlesque dancer Imogen, rapidly falls in love and will soon have to use his skills as a lawyer to save her.  As the heat grows and the two of them realise they’re in love can Imogen find the courage to tell Michael her dark secret, the one she holds closest to her heart or will she once again have to flee into hiding and deny herself love?  I hope you enjoy reading ‘Silk Stockings’ and just to whet your appetite there’s a little excerpt below.

Excerpt

Silk StockingsMichael returned to his stool at the other end of the bar and then thinking for a moment he dragged it closer to hers until he was almost within touching distance. Of course, it was essential he got closer so he could look at the silk stockings, which were gleaming enticingly in the dim light of the bar and which Imogen had now boldly crossed.

It wasn’t unusual to see a woman in stockings – but there was something about the way she wore them. It was as if she was made to wear a pair of hose in the way some girls are made to wear gloves or pearls. There was no doubt the silk stockings and the woman were a uniquely erotic combination and no other woman on the planet could carry off such a stunning partnership.

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

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

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

*****

Constance MundayConstance first started writing and winning prizes when she was a child.  However, after taking a degree in economics and languages she was pressed into work first as a court room reporter and later translator and tutor.  An ardent book worm, books and writing were never far from her mind and in her spare time she wrote several novels just for fun.  It was only after a serious accident though and long periods spent in bed, that she turned to writing seriously and after accumulating loads of work was eventually convinced by a friend to send her first story in for submission.

She returned to university to study English and shortly afterwards when personal tragedy struck, she realised how short life was and that she had to follow her dream of becoming a writer.  Since then she has never looked back.  When asked about her writing she will say it’s more than just story telling.  ‘It’s a therapy, a constant challenge and a journey.’

Her move into erotica started in late 2007 when again a friend persuaded her to be brave.  She’d always loved hot passion and found a missing link when she started adding a pinch of heat to her stories and exploring other avenues.  She likes her stories to be fresh and new and always listens to the words of her fans, welcoming emails from her loyal little band.

Published first in Scarlet magazine, she rapidly moved on and writing under several names including Alcamia Payne for her erotica, has now had short stories published in over thirty anthologies; written novellas and novels and has recently had her story ‘Tango’ featured in ‘Diva’ magazine.

She’s delighted to be part of the beautiful ‘Secret Library’ collection, rubbing shoulders with a plethora of wonderful and talented writers and her next novel ‘Chickadee,’ a hot, sexy historical is out with ‘Ebound’ publishing in June.  Chickadee was the result of an intense interest in history and is set at the time of the Great Exhibition.

There’s loads in the pipeline and excitement abounds as she works on a three novel collection set in the world of mystery and magic.  She’s keen to point out though that she’ll never stop writing short stories as she just loves them.

Constance rates herself as a very ordinary girl with a hot melting centre who would have liked to be alive many centuries ago.  She loves many things, in particular delving into the arts and paranormal and her favourite pastimes are writing, reading, opera, studying, travel, vintage clothing and magic.

Look out for her shortly as she’s about to start her new blog and brand new website and will as usual welcome emails promising to answer every one.

Website:  http://alcamiapayne.web.officelive.com

My blogspot:  http://alcamiapayne.wordpress.com   

*****

The Secret Library is a new range from Xcite Books which will appeal to the female romance reader market. Each book contains three specially commissioned novellas guaranteeing a satisfying and varied selection.

The story content is relationship led with a strong alpha male hero, a level of conflict and a climactic, explicit ending.

The covers are deliberately designed without visual imagery to be discreet. These books could be comfortably read in public, given as gifts and left on a bedside table.

 

The Secret Library contains six books with three erotic romance novellas in each:

Traded Innocence – Toni Sands, Elizabeth Coldwell and K D Grace

Silk Stockings – Constance Munday, Jenna Bright and Lucy Felthouse

One Long Hot Summer – Elizabeth Coldwell, Penelope Friday and Shanna Germain

The Thousand and One Nights – Kitti Bernetti, Primula Bond and Sommer Marsden

The Game – Jeff Cott, Antonia Adams and Sommer Marsden

Hungarian Rhapsody – Justine Elyot, Charlotte Stein and Kay Jaybee   

Anything But Vanilla By Madelynne Ellis — It’s Free!

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It’s my pleasure to welcome the fabulous Madelynne Ellis to The Story Behind the Story today. Madlynne’s going to tell us how Anything But Vanilla came to be, share a hot excerpt and offer a fabulous giveaway of a copy of her historical erotic novella, Capturing Cora, to one lucky commenter. Welcome, Madelynne!

Anything But Vanilla came about because I was asked to produce a novel proposal with a contemporary setting in which the action started right there on the first page. Anyone who is familiar with my work will know that while at least half of my output consists of books with contemporary settings my first love is historical novels. So, here was a challenge—how to get myself interested in writing another modern day book?

First of all, I needed an interesting setting. Office politics make me snore. I became a writer to avoid that rat race. I’m not much for secret clubs, and there’s absolutely nothing sexy about most of my daily chores, eg. the school run. I needed to find somewhere that spelled adventure to me. In the past, I’ve set contemporaries in, Egypt (Passion of Isis), a Scottish castle (Dark Designs), a tiny Yorkshire village (Enticement). While looking back over what I’d already done, I noticed they all have a common element. They’re all remote, isolated places. I needed another out of the way place to infuse with sensuality. An island seemed like the obvious choice, hence I began rekindling my love for St Michael’s Mount and Fort Clonque, which is an island off Alderney, in the Channel Islands.

As soon as I had the setting, an island linked to the mainland by a narrow causeway that flooded at high tide, the characters became clear. Naturally, the island had to have an owner (Bingo! Hero #1. Ric Liddell), and of course there’d be tourists, which meant there’d have to be an ice-cream seller (Hero #2. Zach Blackwater. Yes, I’d already decided it was going to be a ménage). That simply left the heroine. What was she doing on this lonely piece of rock in the English Channel?

Well… she absolutely wasn’t looking for love. Matter of fact, she was running away from a man who was demanding commitment from her. Straight away, I knew Kara North was a woman with a mission. She wasn’t going to be a damsel in distress. She was up for adventure. Liddell Island was going to give her the space to do all the naughty things she liked and dreamed of doing, without facing the constant censure of her family. Not that I wanted things to be too easy for her, which is why I dumped her right in the middle if an “established” if somewhat shaky relationship. The two men might be lovers at the start, but they’re experiencing problems largely because commitment phobic, Ric, doesn’t see why he should give up his poly-amorous lifestyle. I’m not letting on if he’s convinced to change his ways. You’ll have to read the book to find out what happens. (And at the moment you can do that for free as Anything But Vanilla is on promotion at Amazon and Barnes&Noble.)

ANYTHING BUT VANILLA

One girl. Two guys. No Strings…

Leave your inhibitions and prepare to be wicked, because on Liddell Island only the ice-cream is vanilla.

Kara North is on the run. Fleeing from her controlling fiancé and a wedding she never wanted, she accepts the chance offer of refuge on wild, rocky Liddell Island, where she soon catches the eye of the island’s owner, erotic photographer Ric Liddell. Wickedly sexy by day and just plain wicked by night, Ric rules his domain like a feudal lord. He’s used to getting what he wants, without any commitment, and just when Kara thinks she has him hooked, he hides behind a cool, dispassionate mask.

But pleasure comes in more than one flavour when Zachary Blackwater, the charming ice-cream vendor also takes an interest, and wants more than just a tumble in the surf. Zach offers her warmth that she never felt from her ex, and soon it’s not just the ice cream that’s melting.

When Kara learns that the two men have been unlikely lovers for years, she becomes obsessed with the idea of a threesome. Zach is reluctant, until he sees the dynamic effect Kara has on Ric’s emotions. She might be the key to finally capturing Ric’s heart.

Soon Kara is wondering how she ever considered binding herself to just one man. She’s never had so much fun or felt so uninhibited, but just when everything seems so perfect, the man she left behind returns with some very old-fashioned ideas about rescuing her and taking her home to his own idea of wedded bliss.

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Excerpt:

The kiss was by far the dirtiest she’d ever shared. The taste of her body clung to his lips, while the scent of her arousal flooded the air. Although shirtless, Ric remained otherwise properly dressed. Kara reached for his belt buckle, only for him to grin and step back. Still the ridge of his erection showed clearly behind his fly.

‘I thought you wanted to know where those keys are.’

‘They’re not in your pants?’

‘No,’ he grinned. ‘But let’s see if you can find them before I get fully into yours.’ He led her over to the bureau, not even giving her a moment to straighten out her clothes and bent her over the polished surface so that her face lay just shy of the myriad of little drawers set into the top. ‘They’re definitely in one of those. Shall we see if you can find them before I make you come again?’

He already had a head start, for one hand immediately wedged between her thighs, where it confidently stroked against her still swollen clit. Kara gave a desperate whimper. She couldn’t concentrate while he did that. Nor did she really care to find the keys right now. She wasn’t about to sacrifice this for a face full of biting cold wind and a night in her car wondering what could have been.

Ric’s breath tickled her ear. So too did his hair. ‘Ready?’

‘No, wait. What does the winner get? You’re not exactly convincing me that I want these keys.’

‘Bedding rights. One time, wherever, whenever.’ His breath tickled as it whispered past her ear. ‘And I don’t make this offer every day. Go.’

Kara reached out and tugged open the first of the drawers. Her current position didn’t allow her to see inside, so she had to rely on touch — paperclips, another one of those LED torches he had so many of, but no keys. She yanked open the second drawer without closing the first, just as she heard the slid of his zipper. The crackle of a foil wrapper immediately followed.

Damn, she wanted to crane her head and look at him, in order to know what his cock was like. She liked visuals, though she was pretty sure he was going to feel damn nice. Ric stood so close behind that even if she did turn she wouldn’t have gained a glimpse of him. Hell, if she moved a millimetre they’d be as intimate as it was possible to get.

Kara’s mouth fell open in anticipation. The second drawer remained unexplored.

‘You’re not looking,’ he prompted, still stroking her clit. ‘That’s kind of cheating, you know.’ The blunt tip of his thumb found her entrance and dipped inside a way. It came out wet. ‘Anywhere, anytime, anyhow, no matter who’s watching.’

Maybe, just maybe, she ought to try a little harder to win. God knows what sort of kinky hell he’d subject her to. Only she was way too interested in feeling his cock to focus on finding keys. Kara feigned interest in the drawer contents, waving her hand about inside the little wooden trough, but her attention remained focused on the nudge of his cock up against her sheath.

‘You’re very wet,’ he observed. The smack of his lips followed the comment, and she knew he lifted his thumb in order to taste her.

Suddenly, it was all too much. Kara pushed back against him, unable to keep still with him poised so close any longer. Instead of sliding home, his cock pressed hard against her bottom instead, almost testing her untried hole.

‘Steady now. Eagerness will get you everywhere.’ He lined them up properly then thrust inside her in one big push that knocked all the air from her lungs. When he drew back, it released her cry.

Sex oughtn’t to be allowed to feel this good, especially not the first time with someone. It made her behave like a perfect slut. She jiggled against him, bracing her palms flat against the desk. He seemed to fill her up right to her hopelessly sensitized clit. They rocked together hard, so that their joy was punctuated by the thump of the desk hitting the wall.

Kara’s pants turned to squeals. She couldn’t hold it in. She couldn’t keep how good it felt locked inside of her.

Ric’s teeth grazed the side of neck and the top of her shoulder, which only encouraged her to push back harder. She strained against him, loving the sensation of her back brushing against his tight abs and his long hair tickling her skin.

They were both coasting close to the edge when he slowed everything down and turned each thrust into a crazily sweet figure of eight. Her cunt clenched around him, desiring the hardness of their previous pace, yet loving how this slower roll seemed to sensitize the whole of her body. For a while they danced in perfect harmony. The graze of Ric’s teeth became the sort of deep kiss that marked. He sucked her up into him, possessing her fully. Then just as her body had begun to sink into a liquid and languid state, he switched things up again.

Ric fucked like a perfect mad man, his blond hair whipping them both while he filled her with perfect precision. Her heart rate doubled and heat filled Kara’s cheeks. The buzz in her clit started out small, just a little fizz that grew until it encompassed the whole of her pussy. She drowned in its power, gasping for air. For the first time ever, her second climax was so much greater than the first. It rolled on and on, pulsing inside of her and making her muscles clench tight around the glory of his cock. Normally, if a lover managed to wring a second orgasm from her, it was quiet, paltry little tremor. This was huge. It crackled through her synapses and almost knocked her out.

Boneless and dazed Kara peeled herself up off the surface of the desk. ‘Wow!’ Even that monosyllable didn’t convey the magnificence of the act. She leaned back against Ric in order to seek his kiss. His arms wrapped tight around her as they supped upon one another’s breath. He stayed inside of her too, his cock rigidly hard. It took a moment for her realize that he hadn’t come, that despite the mind-blowing peak he’d propelled her to, he hadn’t found satisfaction of his own. No wonder he lapped up her kisses like a man dying of thirst.

*****

 Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Madelynne’s hot historical erotic novella, Capturing Cora.

About Madelynne Ellis:

Madelynne Ellis is a multi-published British author of erotic romance. Her novels and short stories have been published by a variety of houses both in the UK and US, and have been translated into German, Spanish and Norwegian. She is best known for her Regency set novels for pioneering British erotica publisher Black Lace, but also enjoys writing contemporary and paranormal settings. Her aim is to deliver scorching, character-driven stories that enchant, torment and don’t shy from darker aspects of life.

Madelynne lives in the UK with her partner of 20 years, their two adorable children and a chocoholic rabbit. When not writing she enjoys live role-playing, solving puzzles and hanging out online.

Madelynne loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her by email at madelynne at madelynne-ellis dot com or find her at one of these hang outs.

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Naughty Novelists News and Giving Creativity a Hand

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Naughty Novelists

For those of you who haven’t already heard me shouting it on Facebook or Twitter, yesterday’s Daily Express ran a lovely article called We’re the New Naughty Novelists, in which I got interviewed along with two very big hitters, Janine Ashbless and Primula Bond. I was chuffed to be in such talented company. The topic of the piece was our ordinary lives. Of course all of this is in the wake of the Fifty Shades phenomenon. The article is very positive and supportive and I don’t know about my two esteamed colleagues, but I had great fun when the make-up artist and photographer came to take some shots of me being ordinary.

However, just for the record, we aren’t actually NEW naughty novelists. We’ve all got track records, as it were. Granted I’m the newby in the midst of such lovely naughtiness, but even I have three novels, a novella, multiple short stories, and more of all to come. I think we might actually be the Experienced Naughty Novelists, but the publicity is great, the article was fun to do, and if you missed the print version with all the lovely piccies, here’s the link with the lovely Janine Ashbless multi-tasking as only a naughty novelist can.

More Masturbation Month Mischief

If you haven’t been celebrating National Masturbation Month, it’s not too late to start. If you try real hard, I’ll bet you can even make up for lost time. In keeping with the spirit of self love, I’ll be passing on tidbits and little self-love excerpts from my novels and short stories from now until the end of May, so here’s a little gem of information worthy of a good hand.

As a novelist, who writes erotic romance, I’m proud to be a frequent masturbator, and I’m always a bit surprised that anyone could be ashamed of such a powerful creative force.

The ancient Egyptians believed masturbation was a creative act in its own right. In the Heliopolis creation myth, the god Amen rises from the primeval ocean, Nun, and masturbates the divine son and daughter into existence, and they populate the world. Even if I look at the Judeo/Christian myth in the first two chapters of Genesis, where God speaks the world into existence, I am still looking at a solo act.

Eric Francis on Betty Dodson and Carlin Ross’s Sex Information Online site writes, ‘Masturbation is the most elemental form of sexuality, requiring only awareness and a body.

Awareness and a body. Masturbating the world into existence. It happens all the time. At the risk of offering too much information, my understanding of sex, my deepest understanding of my own sexuality, comes from awareness and my own body. That’s what I have to work with. My understanding of writing, my deepest understanding of the creative forces in me also comes from awareness and my own self.

I’m astounded that in a world where solitude and the meditative tradition is a part of almost every religious discipline, we shy away from the very concepts that could have well given birth to it, awareness and Body. Can there really even BE awareness without a body? And how can we possibly understand the boundaries and the limits of either without the two rubbing up against each other. Our act of one-ness, our proto-sexuality, as Eric Francis calls it, I suggest is by its boundary-exploring nature, also our proto-creativity.

****

And now, here’s a very nasty,  not-for-the-delicate-flowers, Self Love Excerpt from my naughty novella, Surrogates. (Heavy breathing is allowed)

Excerpt:

‘You were with her, weren’t you? You were with your wife,’ she said reaching a gloved hand to deposit a handful of weeds in the trug next to her, an act which made the skirt ride up even further, an act which made him breathless.

‘What? No! I wasn’t. I promise. I had a meeting with my accountant that ran long. I swear it, Francie, darling. I haven’t seen Bel since I got home. Besides she’s staying over at her sisters this evening. They’re having a girl’s night out. Sweetheart, you know if I were with her, I’d tell you. Haven’t I always been above board about what goes on between Bel and me?’

She knew he had. Not that there was much to tell, but on the odd occasion when Bel had had too much wine with dinner and demanded he do his husbandly duty, or when she was feeling morose about her advancing years, all thirty-four of them, and needed to be shown she was still sexy, he never lied about it. It didn’t matter what sex acts he’d had to perform to please his wife, when Francie asked for details, he gave them. A part of him hated that she always asked. Surly she knew it would be easier if she didn’t know, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. And he didn’t hold back anything, even though he was always careful to remind her that it was thinking about her that made him come when he did his duty where Bel was concerned.

And all the while he told Francie what he’d done to Bel, told her details that made him blush, details that made his cock stretch and arch towards her, she listen while her cunt got slick and fat. Even as those details made her angry and unhappy, she asked for them. And while he told her, she played with herself, fingers darting furiously in and out between her heavy slippery folds, hips shifting and grinding as she asked him in clipped breathless words for more details. What did Bel’s pussy look like? How did she smell? Could he taste the wine she’d drank or the spices from Cook’s currey when he ate her out? How hard did her nipples get? Did she talk dirty when he pushed into her? Jesus, having sex with Bel, even though he knew it hurt Francie, was almost worth it to watch the way Francie took the pain, twisted it, turned it, reshaped it and came on it, came in lovely gushing female squirts at what she had made of it in her filthy little head.

Of course she didn’t like it that someone else got his cock while she only got to watch him wank. He didn’t like it either, but there was nothing for it at the moment. As much as he wanted Francie, as much as he dreamed of riding her raw, he was still married to Bel, and he would stay faithful until he got the balls to ask for a divorce. No matter how badly he wanted Francie, he could never behave towards Bel the way his father had towards his mother.

So why was he such a coward? People got divorced every day. Lots of people. Hell he knew people who had already been married and divorced multiple times. It was a simple thing to ask for a divorce these days. And yet, here he was like a damned adolescence begging for a peek under a girl’s skirt. ‘Please, darling, he said. ‘I don’t have a lot of time, and I want to spend what I do have with you.’

He saw the sigh shiver up through her body, and he knew he’d been forgiven. She raised on her knees enough to take off the gloves she wore, then with one hand she eased the skirt up over her hips and wriggled slightly to open her legs a little wider on the mat where she knelt.

He pressed his thumb to the head of his cock. The urge to come at the sight of her all engorged and open was nearly overwhelming. The pearlescent sheen on the inside of her pouting labia told him he wasn’t the only one who needed to come. As she arched her back downward and forced her bottom even higher, her clit came into view looking like a heavy swollen marble at the apex of her pussy. ‘Oh, Francie –’ he breathed ‘– touch it for me.’

Launch, Lust and Self-Love

Blog, New Releases, News, Work in Progress, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Lots of Lakeland Heatwave News!

Body Temperature and Rising has been out in paperback and eBook in the UK since October and in eBook in the US as well, but tomorrow is the official print launch day of Body Temperature and Rising in the US! I love book launches! And I LOVE the chance to celebrate. I’m very pleased with the positive response BTR is getting, and the closer I get to the completion of all three novels in the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, the more excited I get.

In more Lakeland Heatwave news, Body Temperature and Rising is being discussed all this month over at Coffee Time Romance. I’ll be talking paranormal erotic romance, what makes it work and what makes it hot. I’ll also be sharing some juicy excerpts, talking about what inspired me to write it, talking about sex magic, sharing a few snap shots of the glorious English Lake District, where the story is set, and just generally chatting about witches, demons, ghosts and all things paranormal and sexy. Do stop by and chat. Leave a comment for a chance to win your choice of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop.

Even MORE Lakeland Heatwave News

I’m very excited to announce that I’ve just finished the first draft of book three of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire. You may have remembered that I had just finished the first draft of book two, Riding the Ether, in February. I decided to write the last two books back to back so I could get the best overall view of the powerful events that lead to the grand finale. Plus, I had less chance of suffering from empty nest syndrome that way. I have to admit there were a few twist and turns that even I didn’t expect, and I can hardly wait to make all three novels available to my readers! Riding the Ether will be published in October, and there’ll be much partying and dancing in the streets.

Novellas                                                                              

Last month I was all excited about the release of my two new novellas, Surrogates, published with Harper Collin’s new erotica eBook imprint, Mischief, and Migrations,  which included in the brand new Xcite Books line of anthologies, The Secret Library, in the Traded Innocence anthology. I’m happy to announce that both are doing well and enjoying good press. I’m doing my best to have as many of the authors from the new Secret Library line as guest on my blog as possible, so please check in to see what hot, romantic offerings are deliciously hidden inside those very elegant velvet covers. I’ll also have some exciting guest authors stopping by from the new Mischief line as well, so do make sure to check out A Hopeful Romantic for all the latest heat.

Garden Porn

Any of you who have read much of my work know that I’ve got a reputation for writing garden porn. Surrogates is a very hot romp through the veg patch, and some pretty stunning formal gardens as well. My short story, Vegging is packed full of veggie naughtiness, and my story, Allotted Views is a voyeuristic romp through the allotments.  I’ve always found working in the veg patch inspiring, and it has just got a whole lot more inspiring for me, as my husband and I just got an allotment after three long years on the waiting list. I think our patch alone is big enough to feed half of Surrey. And that means, of course, LOTS more inspiration for writing hot garden porn.

The Merry Month of May…er National Masturbation Month!

Okay, how could I possibly NOT end this little update with a happy, touchy-feely mention of National Masturbation Month? The celebration of May as National Masturbation Month started in 1995 in San Francisco as a response to the forced resignation of then U.S. Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders, for remarks she made that masturbation should be taught as a healthy part of human sexuality.

The comment ended Elders’ career. National Masturbation Month came about as an act of protest against Elders’ ouster and a celebration of the safest sex of all. I’m definitely planning to do my part to celebrate in solidarity! And I intend to start by giving you a few very hot excerpts of the self-loving kind throughout the rest of the month – my contribution to the celebration of solo-sex. I hope you find them inspiringJ

Since all the latest news is Lakeland Heatwave, I’m going to start the self-love lit with a hands-on scene from Body Temperature and Rising. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

(in which much naughtiness ensues. Not for the delicate of disposition)

Marie woke to the awareness of a man sitting on the bed next to her, a man who, from the looks of his clothing, must have been at the same costume party as Anderson. His fly was open and he was stroking a substantial hard-on. Instead of being frightened, as would have been the normal response to a stranger rubbing one off on her bed, she simply admired his pale hair and the way his large hand moved over heavy equipment. She liked it when she conjured sexy men to visit her in her dream world. Better yet she had conjured one obviously ready to play.

She watched through half closed eyes as he shoved his trousers open further and worried distended balls free from the press of his underpants. With one hand, he caressed the length of his cock, with the other he cupped himself and stroked with his thumb.

‘I heard them talking about you.’ The man said. ‘They didn’t say how strong you are.’ He groaned out loud and shifted to slide his trousers down so that his pale ass settled onto the duvet, allowing easier access to himself. ‘Even if they had, I would not have believed them.’ His voice was a harsh whispered. ‘I long to know what you look like beneath the duvet, beneath the nightdress. Please let me look at you.’

So far this dream was shaping up well. She was happy to play I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. Strangely Dream Guy sounded like he’d studied the same romantics Anderson had. Who’d have thought antiquated poet-speak could be so damned hot? She eased herself into a sitting position against the head board and pushed back the bedding. The night shirt lay high against her thighs, barely covering her cunt.

She was amazed at how well she could see in the moonlight drifting through her window. She could see the shape of him, the anxious rise and fall of his chest, the parting of his lips. She could feel his gaze on the hem of her night shirt. She scrunched and raked at it until her hand rested against her pubic mound obscuring his view, and he groaned his frustration. Slowly, carefully she raised her bottom and shifted until the night shirt was out of the way and her bare buttocks pressed against the smooth cotton of the sheet.

His gaze on her felt almost physical, as though with his eyes alone he could gently nudge her open. ‘Please let me see,’ he whispered.

She had played the voyeur with Anderson and Tara earlier. Now it felt wonderfully wicked to play the exhibitionist, as she shifted her ass again and slowly, teasingly opened her thighs, still nestling her hand in her curls, stroking and caressing, making herself wait until that magical moment when her fingers first slipped between the swell of her lips.

‘I can smell you,’ he said. ‘The scent of your sex is intoxicating, please, please let me look at you.’

This time, she moved her fingers down over the hard rise of her clitoris and in between the pout of her lips, her breath catching, her hips jerking with that first electrical touch. Then she spread her labia as wide as she could manage with two fingers and opened her legs still further until she was certain Dream Guy could see every detail of her dilating pussy, every fold of her slippery landscape.

He gasped at the sight, and she could see his balls tighten and jerk with the intake of breath. He shifted a fisted hand down the length of his penis, lingering for his thumb to caress and circle the head, its slit opening and closing with each stroke. She could feel the gentle rocking of the mattress and wasn’t sure if it was from her dream lover, who was now grinding his ass against the bed with each stroke, or if it was from her own bearing down.

‘Touch yourself for me,’ the man said. ‘I want to watch you pleasure your lovely womanhood.’

There was a strange man sitting on the foot of her bed watching her masturbate. The very thought made her juices run thick and hot.

*****

Wishing you all a very merry, touchy-feely month of May! And here’s a lucious link to The Center for the Intimate Arts and some fab visual stimulation.