Tag Archives: sinful press

Out Now—Making Him Wait by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee) #bdsmromance #erotica #eroticromance

February 23, 2018Guest BloggerBDSM, bdsm romance, erotic romance, erotica, Kay Jaybee, Making Him Wait, sinful pressK D Grace

Kay Jaybee’s popular BDSM-romance novel is back!

Re-released by the brilliant Sinful Press, Making Him Wait, is every bit as hot the second time around.

“Erotica on a canvas of bondage and discipline.”

It’s amazing where a drive to live out your fantasies, a paint brush, and a text message can lead you…

Blurb

Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas. But, when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge.

Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. However, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out.

At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted.

Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time? The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!

*****

The extract I have chosen to share with you today comes from the very beginning of the book…

Freya rocked a little on her bare feet as Maddie touched her lightly freckled cheek. “No need to look so worried, honey. You are doing brilliantly. It’s a difficult pose to hold for so long.”

“Thank you.” Blushing an endearing shade of pink, Freya lowered the hands she’d nervously clenched before her, giving her employer another chance to see the neat triangle of her semi-shaved pussy.

Maddie, her jeans and t-shirt smeared and spattered with all the mediums of her trade, did not feel the need to mention to Freya that her own knickers were sodden, nor that beneath her holster bra, her nipples were rock hard.

A further buzz from her mobile alerted Maddie to the arrival of another text message. In fact a steady string of muffled noises from her mobile, coming from the pit of her handbag, had been announcing the arrival of texts every ten minutes or so throughout the morning.

Smiling to herself, Maddie continued to disregard her phone and considered the exquisite outline of her companion’s porcelain frame. Most people came to Maddie to be drawn or painted, sometimes as a commission for a lover, husband or wife. Some, however, like Freya, came to the studio as a way of improving their self-confidence. Despite her generally shy demeanour, Freya had proved to be very good at posing as Maddie required and the artist had offered her an occasional job as a life model.

Sometimes Maddie felt she was more therapist than artist – specifically a sex therapist – as men and women alike shared their most intimate secrets while standing on the other side of her easel. Maddie’s studio certainly had the air of an erotic fantasy confessional about it. She wasn’t complaining, however. No other life would do for her now. The job satisfaction Maddie achieved from listening to the dreams and fantasies of others while she recreated them onto canvas, went hand in glove with the personal physical gratification it gave her.

Money being either plentiful or non-existent, depending on the current success of her commissions and sales, Maddie had been forced to develop an alternative form of payment for her models – a reward system for good work. Maddie could tell from the rise and fall of Freya’s chest and the glistening damp skin at the top of her thighs, that she was more than ready to be paid for today’s session.

Closing in on her model, Maddie simultaneously cupped Freya’s slick pussy and left breast with her charcoal-blackened hands, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through the younger woman’s body.

“Your progress really is outstanding, honey. Few of my models can stay as motionless as you can.” Congratulating Freya on her skill, Maddie left two dark palm prints on the girl’s tits and tapped at the inside of her legs. “Open up. I think you have deserved a treat after all your hard work.”

Gliding her palm over Freya’s mound, Maddie slipped a gentle finger into the slippery canal of the model’s frantically clutching sex, enjoying the murmured mew of contentment that escaped from her lipstick-free mouth.

Pumping gently, the artist brought Freya close to orgasm with steady increases and decreases of pressure – her own mind straying to her mobile. Maddie wondered where Theo was and what he was doing. She knew what he was thinking about. She always knew that. Theo thought about her…

*****

Praise for Making Him Wait-

“Making Him Wait” held me captive, made me blush, had me yearning for more before I was even ready to let the previous chapter go. The story unfolds dripping with eroticism, every character wantonly submitting to Maddie’s artistic, commanding eye… Erotica’s “Queen of Kink” has nailed the freedom of Kink, fearlessly. Kay Jaybee writes with a masterful insight and sucks her readers into the fascinating domain of domination and submission. A realm where one’s words must be listened to very carefully and choices are empowering.’ Rose Caraway.

“Artist, lover, dominatrix, Maddie has sculpted from her surroundings the perfect life and Kay Jaybee in ‘Making Him Wait’ the picture-perfect set up for an unhurried, well-written, hugely entertaining, multi-media journey into classy erotica – men, women, whatever your fancy, Mistress Jaybee guides you through her Chinese puzzle of a plot in a way that stole my breath and made my underarms tingle…Mesmerising, thrilling, word perfect, a triumph.” Chloe Thurlow

If you would like to buy Making Him Wait, it is available as a paperback or e-book from all good retailers, including-

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/makinghimwaitkjb

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/making-him-wait-kay-jaybee/1127821931?ean=9781910908228

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/making-him-wait/id1336576037?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/making-him-wait-4

*****

Bio

Kay Jaybee has over 150 publications to her name, including the novels Making Him Wait, (Sinful Press, second edition, 2018), and The Fifth Floor – The Perfect Submissive Book One (KJ Books, third edition, 2017). She has also written the novellas Wednesday on Thursday (KJ Books, 2017), Take Control (1001Nights Press, 2014), Digging Deep, (Xcite Press, 20153), A Sticky Situation (Xcite Press, 2013), and Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man (1001 Nights Press, 2014). She has written the anthologies The Collector (KJBooks, 2016), and A Kink a Day Books 1-3 (available via the Radish reading app).

Details of Kay’s work, past, present and future can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

The Naughty Book – A Guest Post by Janine Ashbless (@sinfulpress) #giveaway

December 22, 2017Guest Bloggerbook of the watchers trilogy, erotic romance, erotica, guest blog, Janine Ashbless, paranormal erotica, paranormal romance, pnr, sinful press, the prison of the angelsK D Grace

I’ve been very naughty. I know, as an erotica author I’m supposed to be, right? I’m supposed to use transgression and shock for erotic effect in my work. Well, in my novel The Prison of the Angels, which is all about – surprise! – fallen angels and their wickedness, there’s an intricate scene in which I turn the kinky sex up to eleven – and I kick it all off by quoting the Bible. Extensively. Egregiously. With malice.

My heroine, Milja, has a lot of issues by this stage in the trilogy. She’s a Christian who has betrayed God, according to all that she’s been told. She has a definite propensity for public exhibitionism and submission. And she is carrying a TON of guilt regarding how she has treated her angelic lover Azazel. So in a scene that is pretty much her ultimate guilt/BDSM fantasy, she finds herself naked and surrounded by a load of leering guys, and there’s a preacher excoriating her with bible verses.

The Bible’s got a lot of filthy stuff in it, if you know where to look. Much of it’s under the guise of condemnation: “I will shew unto thee the judgment of the Great Whore that sitteth upon many waters, with whom the kings of the earth have committed fornication”. (Revelation 17)

That’s metaphorical of course – Babylon, the Great Whore, is a symbolic figure. But there’s a strong Biblical thread of denouncing nations/peoples/cities by slut-shaming them in the symbolic guise of errant wives and/or prostitutes who just can’t give up the game because they just love to fuck.

“She gave herself as a prostitute to all the elite of the Assyrians and defiled herself with all the idols of everyone she lusted after. She did not give up the prostitution she began in Egypt, when during her youth men slept with her, caressed her virgin bosom and poured out their lust on her.” (Ezekiel 23)

The Prophet Hosea, for example, was commanded by God to marry a “harlot” in order to provide a living sermon. “Let her remove the adulterous look from her face and the unfaithfulness from between her breasts. Otherwise I will strip her naked and make her as bare as on the day she was born.”

In Milja’s fantasy all this bubbles up to shame, frighten and excite her, because there’s really nothing like a sense of transgression and sinfulness to get people thoroughly overwrought:

“For thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I will deliver thee into the hand of them whom thou hatest: And they shall deal with thee hatefully, and shall leave thee naked and bare: and the nakedness of thy whoredoms shall be discovered, both thy lewdness and thy whoredoms. I will do these things unto thee, because thou hast gone a whoring after the heathen, and because thou art polluted.” – (Ezekiel 23)

And the filthiest verse in the Bible? That’s in Ezekiel 23 too: “There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses.”

That’s a simile even I would balk at, normally – but hey, it’s in the Good Book! Thank you, Biblehub!

xxx

Janine

*****

Excerpt from The Prison of the Angels:

The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.

I fell forever.

Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.

I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.

Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.

Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.

He stared.

I tried to cry out.

“Milja?”

Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.

“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”

“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.

“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.

I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.

“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.

He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.

“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”

I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.

I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.

Azazel?

Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?

Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”

“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.

He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.

Oh God.

Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.

The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.

My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.

He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.

I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.

*****

Blurb:

Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.

Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.

She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether – torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.

But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.

Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.

Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.

This time, the choices she makes will change everything.

This time it’s the End of the World.

The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.

Buy links:

*****

Author bio:

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try “Cover Him with Darkness,” “Heart of Flame,” or “The King’s Viper.” If you prefer challenging erotica, go for “Red Grow the Roses” or “Named and Shamed” instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as:

“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)

Author Links:

Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/

Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless

Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/janine-ashbless-4/

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The Man in the Mask – A Guest Post by Lady Divine (@FrancescaHartz @sinfulpress)

August 28, 2017Guest Bloggeranthology, blog tour, erotic anthology, erotica, guest blog, lady divine, sinful pleasures, sinful press, writer marketing servicesK D Grace

Everyone wears a mask of one kind or another.

In romance novels, masks tend to be elaborate, lavishly decorated things, hiding the identity of the mysterious lover from the (more often than not) naïve hero/heroine.

But, in real life, our masks tend to be far less erotic … and much more complicated.

The average human being doesn’t only wear one. They become layered, one over the other. We switch between them throughout the day, showing the face we need for a given situation – parent, spouse, sibling, employee, neighbor. On occasion, one will fall away when we don’t need it anymore, but we tend to add more as time goes on, piling them up until it sometimes becomes difficult to remember who we were to begin with.

Masks can take us away from ourselves.

But sometimes they show who we really are.

And the effect is broad. In the search to find ourselves, it may not even be our own mask, but someone else’s mask, that reveals the truth about us.

There are so many different kinds of masks. In my life, I’ve worn many – masks of compassion, nurturing, confidence, protection. In my work as a professional Dominant, I’ve seen hundreds more – men and women peeling away who they have to be in their vanilla lives and wearing, for my eyes only, the masks they show no one.

This concept of masks has always fascinated me – the idea of becoming more yourself by changing what people see, either literally or symbolically. In my story for Sinful Press’s new anthology Sinful Pleasures, “The Man in the Mask”, I decided to combine both the mask of a man longing to remember who he was with the elaborate mask of the romantic lover. At his birthday party, with every person he knows in attendance, Miguel decides to turn back the clock on his life by doing the one thing that most people would find unthinkable – cheat on his husband with a beautifully submissive masked stranger.

But that’s what we see on the surface. Beneath their masks, Miguel and his anonymous lover aren’t necessarily who they appear to be.

You can find out more about this story, and many of my other writings, by following me on Tumblr – https://lady–divine.tumblr.com (or https://lady-divine-writes.tumblr.com for a more safe for work version ;D). You can also find me on Twitter @FrancescaHartz, or on Instagram at ladydivine91 as I embark on my latest adventure, which is as far from professional Dominant as I could possibly get – fledgling freestyle skater 😉

Stay safe, stay sane, stay consensual – but remember to play dirty as often as you can 😉

Francesca Hartz

a.k.a. Lady Divine

*****

Excerpt from “The Man in the Mask”

Sinful Pleasures

Shhh. We have to do this quick,” Miguel says, reaching around the body of the man standing in front of him to undo the buttons of his shirt. “My husband is going to come looking for me soon.”

“O-okay,” the man acquiesces. “Well, then, do you think I can at least look at you while we…?”

Miguel stops unbuttoning and clamps a hand over the man’s mouth before he can say another word.

“No talking!” he snaps. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and it’s going to stay that way. Got it?”

“Is that what you want?” the man asks in a softer voice, hoping Miguel won’t object.

“What if it is?” Miguel replies, his accompanying chuckle cruel. He’s indifferent to the man’s feelings because tonight, he’s not a man. He’s a puppet. A toy. An instrument for Miguel’s use…for his pleasure. “It’s what you must want, too, yes? Otherwise, why do you come here wearing that mask?”

The half-mask the man has on is an odd sort of accessory. It’s lavishly decorated, almost gaudily so—blood red around the eyes and trimmed in gold sequins, swirling filigree designs, and accented in gold dust and rubies—a dramatic shield obscuring a face of pale skin, meticulously styled brown hair, and stunning green eyes.

“Because I was t-told…” The man stutters to a stop when Miguel’s fingers brush his skin, playing through the hairs on his chest. He begins again, wishing he had taken one last shot of the whiskey they’d been serving downstairs. It might have strengthened his voice. “I was told that if I wore it, I would meet the man of my dreams.”

“So, you admit to coming here of your own free will?” Miguel asks. Consent is essential to him. Without it, he’ll dismiss this man now, no exceptions.

It would be a shame not to get the chance to have him, but there are others willing to take his place.

“Yes,” the man replies.

“Say it,” Miguel demands. “Word for word. Say you are here of your own free will.”

“I am here of my own free will.”

“Even though you know what I might do to you?” Miguel has to wonder if this man truly knows anything about his unconventional tastes, his unusual cravings. “Even though you know what a night with me might entail?”

“Yes,” the man answers without hesitation. “I know, and I consent.”

*****

Blurb

Sinful Press welcomes you to lose yourself in Sinful Pleasures.

Join us as we weave our way from mainstream erotic romance to surreal sex-filled dreamscapes and everything in between, created by some of the best new and established voices in the erotica genre.

Janine Ashbless, Ella Scandal, Sonni de Soto, Jo Henny Wolf, Lily Harlem, Lady Divine, Gail Williams, Samantha MacLeod, Tony Fyler, Ellie Barker, Lisa McCarthy

Buy links

Support your small publisher and buy the paperback direct

*****

Author Bio

Lady Divine is a professional Dominatrix living and working in Southern California, and that’s where most of her writing inspiration comes from. She is also a wife and a mother, a classical musician, a photographer, and a greco roman wrestler, as well as an LGBTQIA+ advocate. Lady Divine can be found gracing the internet at www.lady–divine.tumblr.com

Pre-order now! Sinful Pleasures: An Anthology of Erotic Tales by Sinful Press (@sinfulpress)

August 2, 2017Guest Bloggerella scandal, ellie barker, erotic anthology, erotica, gail williams, Janine Ashbless, jo henny wolf, lady divine, Lily Harlem, lisa mccarthy, pre-order, samantha macleod, sinful pleasures, sinful press, sonni de soto, tony fylerK D Grace

Release date 20^th August 2017.

Sinful Press welcomes you to lose yourself in Sinful Pleasures.

Join us as we weave our way from mainstream erotic romance to surreal sex-filled dreamscapes and everything in between, created by some of the best new and established voices in the erotica genre.

Janine Ashbless, Ella Scandal, Sonni de Soto, Jo Henny Wolf, Lily Harlem, Lady Divine, Gail Williams, Samantha MacLeod, Tony Fyler, Ellie Barker, Lisa McCarthy

Pre-order links:

Amazon: http://smarturl.it/SPebookAmazon

iTunes: http://smarturl.it/SPiBooks

Google Play: http://smarturl.it/SPGoogle

Barnes and Noble: http://smarturl.it/SPBandN

Kobo: http://smarturl.it/SPKobo

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35452279-sinful-pleasures

Note: Sinful Pleasures will be available through all main online bookstores in print and digital on the 20th of August.

*****

Excerpt from On The Line by Sonni de Soto:

If he wanted to call her, he could call her.

He didn’t have to wait for her.

Decisively, he reached for his phone and began to dial.

She answered on the first ring. “Twenty minutes past nine.” Danielle tsked. “I always wondered how long it would take for you to call me.” Even over the phone, he could practically hear her shrug. “Twenty minutes sounds about right.”

“So this was a test?” He raised an eyebrow, not sure he liked the idea of that.

“Not a test, per se.” Her throaty voice was a soothing purr that, despite his efforts, did calm his irritation. Which was kind of irritating in and of itself. “More of an experiment. To shake things up a bit.”

“Shake things up how?” He harrumphed back against his headboard.

“We’re in a rut, Christopher.” She sighed with an audible shake of her head. “We’ve got to Columbus our way out of this.”

A rut? They were in a rut? Chris frowned and adjusted his glasses. He supposed that, sure, they’d both been a little tired lately. A little overworked and stressed. But a rut? “How are we supposed to do that?”

“Close your eyes,” she urged into the phone.

He huffed a bit, pouting, but did as she asked. It was, after all, a simple request. “Okay.”

“Imagine us,” her voice whispered in his ear. “Imagine us in your room. On your bed.”

Chris let out a sigh and tried. His mind focused, picturing her painted and so-mobile mouth forming her words. He thought about her tongue, slick and sly, as it slid across those lips, leaving a sheen in its wake. Chris let his mind remember the taste of her kiss, an utterly illogical mix of heated want and cool mint.

He imagined the familiar flush that always swept over her cheeks right before he took her mouth, that visible sign of her excitement that never failed to fuel his own. He knew that a blush like that could travel down her neck, her shoulder, her spine in a tickled shiver with the simplest touch.

And then there, in his room, on his bed, in his mind, like magic, she was laid seductive and stretched-out before him. He imagined the dark fall of curls that clouded around her face and shoulders, framing bared, bronzed skin perfectly.

His hands itched to grab the curves of her body. The swell of her sweeping hips. The pointed tips of her delectable breasts. The length of her long legs. The soft spread of sun-ripened skin, that always held the sweet scent of citrus, over the generous lushness of her body.

He could hear his own breath rasp as his mind transported her from her dorm room to the foot of his bed.

“Good,” he heard her coo in his ear. “Now that you have me there, whatever will you do with me?” Her mockingly naïve tone left him feeling provoked and promised.

Pre-order blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

My Angels are Such Jerks – A Guest Post by Janine Ashbless

March 6, 2017Guest Bloggerangels, book of the watchers trilogy, erotic romance, erotica, in bonds of the earth, Janine Ashbless, paranormal romance, pnr, sinful pressK D Grace

“What more dangerous attribute could you possibly inflict upon a being of vast power than testosterone?”

–In Bonds of the Earth

When I started writing Cover Him With Darkness and its sequel In Bonds of the Earth, the only thing I was sure of was that, even though this series is an erotic romance thriller, my angels were NOT going to be just hot dudes with wings. My job was to work out what they were.

I thought I’d cut it back to basics. My source material for the trilogy is the Bible and The Book of Enoch—which was basically ancient Jewish fanfic based on Genesis Chapter 6.

I established in CHWD that angels aren’t naturally human in form—they took human shape in prehistory to interact with us. What did they look like as spirits? Here’s a clue – the word Seraphim (“burning ones”) is mostly used in the Old Testament to mean poisonous serpents! So my angels are at the root of worldwide dragon mythology.

Having taken physical human form they found themselves unexpectedly loaded with human instincts and emotions: aggression, lust, an urge for independence, romantic love, anger, physical pleasure and emotional pain. It was all very hard for them to cope with! My angels have big emotions. These can seem almost childishly simple. They need love above all, and if cut off from the Love of God they have to have human love to sustain their lives. But they never had to navigate the complexities of growing up, so they have no subconscious insecurities or mixed feelings or social conditioning as to boundaries. No emotional intelligence, in fact.

Some stayed in human shape, took human lovers and Fell from Divine Favor; they taught humanity all sorts of stuff we weren’t supposed to know like magic and metalworking. Oh, and the women they slept with became what the Book of Enoch calls “sirens”— so that happens slowly to my heroine Milja too. The first sign is when she finds she can’t cry…

Not one of my fallen angels is what I’d call evil (not even Satan, who has a complex hidden agenda that Milja is starting to recognize in IBotE). But even the ones with the best intentions are the last word in entitlement. My fallen angels have been imprisoned since the Bronze Age. Human civilization and culture have changed beyond anything they could have imagined, and when they are freed they struggle to catch up. Sexual consent is a novel concept. “Human Rights” is pretty much beyond their grasp—why should humans, or anything, have rights?

So my fallen angel Azazel struggles desperately with his relationship with Milja, though he loves her crazily. She keeps asking him not to kill people, even when trying to protect her—Weird! She wants him to be monogamous, and he’s all, “Well I don’t see the point but if it makes you happy…” Which is fine until he realizes that she’s also in love with a human man. If there’s one thing that flips Azazel’s switches to rage, it’s hypocrisy…

I do love my confused, demanding, arrogant, hot-hearted angels. I just wouldn’t want to meet one!

xxx

Janine Ashbless

*****

Excerpt:

Wrapping the cheap cotton throw from the foot of the bed around my bare body, I padded through to the doorway. The Archangel Michael stood in the middle of my small apartment, looking about him at the book shelves and the pictures. A paperback copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo slipped from his hand back onto the low table.

“Hello, Milja. Nice place. Has he moved his toothbrush in yet?”

It was like waking to find a giant bird of prey in my tiny living room; he looked wildly unsuited to a domestic setting and way too big for it, even with wings furled. In fact, with that Roman nose and those unblinking amber eyes, there was something distinctly golden eagle-like about him. If he stretched out he could knock over walls, I thought.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “This is my home. You can’t just come barging in!”

“You’re right,” he said, looking startled. “I have to have your permission. No, hold on, wait…that’s vampires. Shame.”

I pursed my lips. “Well, God certainly did not hold back on the sarcasm when he made you guys.”

He smirked. If you’re that good-looking, even a less-than-warm smile can be a weapon of devastating charm. Turning to the couch, he sat down with arms draped over the back and knees spread. It was not so much an invitation as a claiming of territory.

“What do you want?” I kept my voice hard, even as I thought of the icon of Saint Michael that had stood guard over the key in my father’s church. That holy painting had always made me feel nervous as a child, and he was no less intimidating in the flesh. His piercing gaze rested lightly upon me, with all the gentleness of a sword-point.

“Nothing.”

His rigger boots were caked in dried mud, I noticed, and flaking on my rug. I wished he would blink. It still creeped me out, even though Azazel should have inured me to it. “Angels aren’t supposed to lie. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting.”

“So, what…you’re sitting guard over me until Azazel comes back? Is that your plan?”

“He’s too much of a coward to face me. Runs every time.”

“If that’s the way you want to call it.”

He looked at the kitchen door. “I see you have a kettle. You got any tea? I like that Earl Grey stuff. Tastes like flowers.”

“I know the rules, you know. You can’t actually do anything to me.”

“True enough. And I’m not stopping you leaving, if that’s worrying you.”

“I can move out. Get a new place.”

“That’s fine, I’ll find you. This apartment’s a bit small for the two of us, to be honest.”

I clenched my jaw, weighing my options. “Okay,” I said, and dropped my wrap to reveal my naked body, in all its post-coital salty glow.

That wiped the smile off his lips. “Don’t play those games,” he growled, sitting up and looking away from me.

Love is Azazel’s weak spot. Shame is theirs. They’re terrified of their own human flesh.

“What? Does this make you uncomfortable? That’s a pity, seeing as how it’s my house and I like to walk around it naked.”

“You are shameless.” His gaze was sliding all over the place, not daring to settle on me.

“I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” I hefted my breasts and jiggled them. “They’re my tits. In my apartment. If you don’t want to see, clear out.”

“Put your robe back on,” he rasped.

“Oops,” I said. “Did I drop it?” Turning my back to him, I spread my feet and, straight-legged, bent over to pick the fabric up again. Nice and slow…

He moved so fast he’d launched me across the room and onto my bed before I even realized he was out of his seat. The abused mattress twanged in alarm. It knocked the wind out of me—and more than that, shocked me half to death. I wasn’t in the least bit hurt, not even bruised, but I hadn’t expected him to touch me at all, under the rules. Maybe the Boatman sailed closer to the wind than I’d bargained for.

“Don’t do that, whore!” he barked, leaning into my face. He looked furious. I knew why. It takes a human decades to learn how to deal with all the things that come with an adult body—all those hormones and instincts—without losing control. Angels never had the advantage of a gradual introduction.

I had two choices: surrender or fight. I bared my teeth and snarled right back at him, matching his rage and contempt. “Or what? You’re going to rape me? ’Cause I think that might just count as a fall from Grace, don’t you? And then you’d be royally fucked, Mister Michael.”

He recoiled, drawing himself up in undisguised horror. I took advantage of the gap between us to roll over and pull the drawer of my bedside cabinet open, pulling out the silicon rabbit sex toy I’d been given at my graduation party. I hadn’t used it in months, I couldn’t even remember if there were any batteries in it, and I certainly wasn’t feeling horny, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

“Wanna watch?” I asked, spreading my legs wide. “Because that’s what us girls do when we’re home alone these modern days. You can go into the other room if it squicks you out to see. Then you’ll only have to listen to the noises I make.”

He turned on his heel and stomped away, slamming his hands into the doorframe hard enough to crack the wood. But he didn’t leave altogether. He was just that bit too stubborn.

*****

Blurb:

“I will free them all.”

When Milja Petak released the fallen angel Azazel from five thousand years of imprisonment, she did it out of love and pity. She found herself in a passionate sexual relationship beyond her imagining and control – the beloved plaything of a dark and furious demon who takes what he wants, when he wants, and submits to no restraint. But what she hasn’t bargained on is being drawn into his plan to free all his incarcerated brothers and wage a war against the Powers of Heaven.

As Azazel drags Milja across the globe in search of his fellow rebel angels, Milja fights to hold her own in a situation where every decision has dire consequences. Pursued by the loyal Archangels, she is forced to make alliances with those she cannot trust: the mysterious Roshana Veisi, who has designs of her own upon Azazel; and Egan Kansky, special forces agent of the Vatican – the man who once saved then betrayed her, who loves her, and who will do anything he can to imprison Azazel for all eternity.

Torn every way by love, by conflicting loyalties and by her own passions, Milja finds that she too is changing – and that she must do things she could not previously have dreamt of in order to save those who matter to her.

In Bonds of the Earth is the second in the Book of the Watchers trilogy and the sequel to Cover Him With Darkness.

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