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Out Now! – Sated by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #menage #paranormal

SatedBlurb:

A human, a vampire and a werewolf walked into a bar. Sexy is what happens next.

Since getting together with her vampire boyfriend, Ace, Aneesa is enjoying a sex life she could never have with a human. Ace has skill, strength, stamina…and is massively adventurous. Aneesa is checking things off her sexual bucket list at a rate of knots. However, she hasn’t even come close to experiencing the ultimate item on her list. So when Ace beats her to it, proposing a threesome with his werewolf friend, Barton, Aneesa’s definitely up for it.

Barton is attractive, smart and sexy—almost too good to be true, in fact. Aneesa decides not to jump straight into things, but makes sure it’s what she truly wants. However, it turns out Barton’s not so easily dissuaded.

Will Aneesa get the ultimate erotic experience she’s desired for so long? Will she be truly sated, or is the plan doomed to failure?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sated/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25950736-sated

*****

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Excerpt:

A human, a vampire and a werewolf walked into a bar. Sounds like the start of a bad joke. I can assure you it isn’t. And telling you that, actually, the human and the vampire walked into the bar together, and found the werewolf already there, probably doesn’t make it sound any better. Well tough, because that’s the way it went down.

Ace and I met at a Halloween fancy dress party. I know, I know—cliché of clichés. And yes, he was dressed as a vampire—Albeit a horrendously exaggerated one—all slicked-back hair, über pale skin and visible fangs. In real life, he actually looks no different to you or I. Okay, he is a bit pale. But at the time, I’d laughed at him and asked if he thought vampires weren’t a bit overdone—it was when Twilight was at the height of its popularity—all angsty teens and stalkerish behavior.

He’d laughed right back, a joyous, melodious sound that had heat pooling in my groin—then as suddenly as it had arrived, his mirth disappeared. Then he’d said, “Overdone or not, we’re here to stay. And I don’t fucking sparkle.”

My heart had been pounding, and my mouth had gone dry. Somehow, I’d known he wasn’t joking. And, although my conscious brain had shut down, my subconscious had had my back, because I’d heard myself say, “Well, thank fuck for that, because I’ve never been a fan of glitter.”

He’d laughed again, the sound tugging at my very core. And—apologies for yet another cliché—we’ve been together ever since.

Several years later and we’re still as madly in love as ever, and still fucking like rabbits. Sex with a vampire is everything you’d expect it to be—energetic, powerful, finessed, mind-blowing and packed with stamina. Providing you can keep up, that is.

In addition to our unquenchable lust for each other, Ace and I have engaged in bondage, sex toys, spanking, anal, pegging—almost an A to Z of things to do in bed. Some we’ve tried and discarded, others have been a regular part of our sexual repertoire.

And yet, our latest adventure was the most exciting yet. You see, after mine and Ace’s initial meeting, I was given an almighty education in everything it meant to be a vampire. Myths were dispelled, other beliefs were confirmed—he definitely didn’t sparkle—and yet more things I’d never even thought of were seared into my brain.

So when Ace announced he had a friend who was a werewolf, I didn’t even bat an eyelid. It was the follow up information that surprised me.

“He wants to what?” The tone of my voice by the end of the sentence was so high that probably only dogs could hear me. And yet it was genuine surprise, rather than disapproval, that fuelled my reaction.

Raising his eyebrows, Ace gave me that sexy smirk that always gets my blood pounding through my veins and my pussy aching to be filled. “You heard me, Aneesa. My friend Barton would like to screw you. With me present, of course, and actively taking part.”

“A th-threesome?” I stumbled over the word—not because I was horrified. Quite the opposite, in fact. Being fucked by two hot guys at once had long been on my sexual bucket list—a list that, since meeting Ace, had had items checked off it at a rate of knots. I was going to have to start thinking of some more shit to put on it. I was way too young to have completed my bucket list—sexual or not—for Christ’s sake!

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*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Loving the Bad Guys: Vampires by Elizabeth Morgan (@EMorgan2010)

thingsthatgohump300x200My fascination with the paranormal began the first time I watched the movie: Bram Stokers: Dracula. I was eleven – a little young for the movie perhaps – but I just remember being truly fascinated by the scenery and characters; the wolves and the fact that it was scary. The older I got the more I started to understand the story – I have watched this film about a hundred times in the last fifteen years, and I don’t honestly think I will ever get tired of it – I started to understand the haunting beauty of Dracula’s actions. Although Dracula became a Vampire by giving up his soul due to losing the love of his life – severe anger, and heart-ache on his part since he was very religious. He felt betrayed, which anyone can understand that – he is still a monster.

Ignoring the many decades he has been alive, killing and feeding off humans; he locks away Jonathan Harper as soon as he sees a picture of Mina, who is the physical reincarnation of his deceased wife, goes to London and over the course of a couple of weeks slowly murders her best friend, Lucy, and the main reason he went to find her in the first place was to turn her so she could be immortal and spend the rest of eternity with him, something he was originally going to do without her consent, but got interrupted.

They fall in love and by the end of the film he finds peace. So don’t get me wrong it is still a very tragic and romantic story, and will always remain one of my favourites, but books and movies such as Dracula, Interview with a Vampire, and more recently the very popular Twilight series have painted Vampires to be beautiful, tragic creatures who struggle with their needs and long for humanity and love, which is great, because we get to see a characters turmoil and let’s face it, which one of us wouldn’t love to be on the receiving end of such a creature desire, danger be damned!

Even though it was this gothic romance that sparked my love for the paranormal genre, and even though I will happily read or watch anything supernatural, I still love me some bad Vampires, because these creatures that have been round for centuries and stem from all origins. They are evil creature who feed from the living. Not exactly their fault as it is part of their nature, but they are blood drinkers, they are dangerous and I dig that completely, which is why the Vampires in my Blood Series are just that; horrid, they enjoy inflicting pain, and they enjoy drinking blood, and trust me, my guys and gals kinda look like the guy out of Salem’s Lot – that guy still freaks me out – but with snake like tongues and fangs the length of knives. You so wouldn’t want to be cornered by one of them. Trust me. Luckily, there are Vampire slayers in this world and a lot of cool, sometimes grumpy, Scottish Werewolves who are mainly good guys, unless they have gone Rogue. 😉

~ * ~

EM_Cranberry Blood_453x680Excerpt:

Cranberry Blood: Blood Series: Book One

Lights spluttered above me, fighting with some relentless attempt to come back on, even though the battle appeared hopeless.

It is hopeless. I’m trapped.

Fresh waves of pain rippled around my skull and down my spine as I fought to see everything around me, but thick grey smoke flooded the corridors. It crawled down my throat; the taste and feel of ash coated my tongue, making me gag. The need to cough kept grabbing me while ash blocked my nose and stung my watering eyes. My head throbbed, pressure in my skull tightened, as I fought hard to keep my eyes open.

There has to be a way out.

My eyesight had clouded from the smoke; my nostrils burned with it.

The awareness under my skin blazed as hot as the fire that currently threatened to bring the entire structure down on my head, but I had to walk down here; every impulse in my body forced me forward. I had no idea what I hoped to find, but I knew in my gut that I could get out.

My right hand hit the uneven wall before me; my heart sank as I stood before the dead end.

My lungs burned as the smoke continued to consume my body.

I wasn’t supposed to die down here.

 

Chapter One

~ Heather ~

Air scorched my throat as my body jerked into consciousness. Eyes wide and unfocused, I shot into a sitting position, fisting my hands against my chest as I fought to breathe. My heart hammered, each beat loud and clear as it thumped in my ears. My gaze darted around the room. Relief settled over me like a gentle summer’s breeze as each small familiarity of my bedroom filtered into my jumbled mind: the tall, old mahogany wardrobe to the right side; the window, where light desperately tried to seep through the blinds; and lastly, across from the foot of my bed, the vanity table in the same dark shade of wood. Everything exactly where it should be, including me, in my bed, exactly where I should be.

I inhaled, the simple motion causing a stitch to run up my sides, but I ignored it. Sinking against my pillows, I rested my head against the wooden bed frame and closed my eyes. One breath, two, three; my heart steadied back into its usual rhythm. I rubbed my hands across my face, wiping away the sheen of sweat that had broken over my skin. On my exhale, the quietness of the room embraced me. The usual knots in my stomach started to tighten as the confusion of the recurring dream faded. I forced my mind to reach out and grab the escaping images, but, as always, reality quickly settled in and made my vision nothing more than a blank canvas.

Dull throbbing picked up at my temples. Shit. A sigh escaped me. Not again.

I threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, suddenly aware of something gripping the skin of my stomach and back.

“What the—?” The raised hem of my black vest allowed a glimpse at the white bandage strapped around my torso. “How the hell did that get there?”

Shuffling steps took me over to the mirror on the vanity table where I studied the clean dressing that clung to my washed-out skin.
Brow furrowed, I stared at the white patch. “Okay. I really don’t remember hurting myself, let alone bandaging myself up.” My focus snapped to a smaller bandage, taped on the left side of my forehead. I studied my half-naked reflection with confusion. My already pale, peach skin looked pasty white, my golden curls nothing more than flat frizz. The throb in my temples increased as I forced my mind to conjure some memory of what had happened last night.

Blurred snippets of my most recent trip to London skipped through my brain. Standing on the roof across the way from some club…. Then nothing but blank.

I grabbed my comb and sat down on the edge of the bed, a hiss escaping my lips as pain shot up my left side. I took a deep breath and began to pull the comb through my matted hair, clenching my teeth as agony bit at my skull with each sharp tug. My mind continued to sift through snips of the night: going out to look for Carlson, finding him with Antonio. They had followed three drunken women from a club and dragged them into a loading bay behind one of the larger shops. Me following them and helping the three women get away…. At least, I think I did.

But what happened after that? More blankness. Damn.

Hair pulled over one shoulder; I plaited the limp mass and then placed the comb on the vanity table. My forehead began to tighten, and the painful awareness of the familiar thirst that started to crawl up my dry throat assailed my system. My stomach gurgled.
God, I feel rough. I needed food and my mixture, followed by a long, hot shower.

Rolling my head in a circle, I listened to the small pops of tense muscles as I walked to the head of the bed and reached behind the pillows for my sword. My hand met the mattress. My heart stopped. I threw the pillow aside.

Where the hell is my sword?

A strange reckoning tickled below the surface of my skin as my gaze tripped over the room. Something isn’t right.

I walked around my bed to my wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black jogging pants. My focus landed on my sheathed sword, which leant against the white wall behind the bedside table. I slipped into the garment and grabbed my sword, unsheathing the blade as I tiptoed to my bedroom door.

The leather sheath got tossed on my messy bed and the door eased open. Daylight flooded through the slim stairwell window, lighting up the narrow, cream-coloured hallway.

I walked over to the next door and opened it gently; the familiar smell of my Grandmother’s musky perfume hit me as I stepped into the room. I lowered my sword since no one stood there, but my feet refused to move. Her furniture sat where the pieces always had been. The purple bedding laid neatly, not a crease in sight. A layer of dust covered her bedside table. The faintest trace of her scent still lingered. A ball of grief swelled in my chest, lodging tightly between my throat and heart.

I hadn’t taken a single step in here for over a month. She would have wanted me to clean, to open the window and air out the room, but I honestly couldn’t bear the thought of dusting her away just yet.

I backed out of the room and shut the door, letting out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.

I’m finally going crazy. Somehow, I got myself home; it doesn’t really matter how. Maybe I came in, sorted myself out, and then passed out in bed? I must have. What other explanation could there be?

With a sigh, I walked across the landing to the bathroom door. The throb in my temples increased. My muscles felt tighter than a bowstring. A shower and something to eat and drink; these should do the trick. Then maybe my brain would decide to start working, and I could fill in the blanks.

The scent of wet dog flew into my face once across the bathroom threshold. My clothes from last night sat in a shredded pile on the black marble floor, along with my set of daggers. The first aid kit lay open in the sink.

A deep inhale revealed more; combined with the smell of dog, the bathroom held traces of blood. My blood.

I stepped into the room and peered into the waste-bin to see a large amount of dried, red cotton wool.

“I don’t remember doing this.” My eyes bugged at the mess.

Surely, I would remember doing this? Why the hell do I smell dog? Another inhale. And pine?

Something really didn’t feel right. I had never been so bad that I couldn’t remember what had happened on a hunt, and by the looks of things, I’d been in real bad shape.

Back into the hall and to creep quietly down the stairs. The odour of dog grew with each step, the smell of coffee and bacon gradually joining in. My stomach clenched at the familiarity of walking down these stairs every morning to find my grandmother happily cooking breakfast in our kitchen. Minus the smell of animal, though.

I couldn’t believe she’d died almost six weeks ago. God, I miss her.

As I stepped into the lower hall, a glance out of the side window showed my black Range Rover sitting in front of the house, between the front door/porch and the closed, wrought iron security gate. A long, silver scratch marred the paintwork on the bonnet. Antonio’s face flashed through my mind.

I remembered stumbling back to the car to find him there, waiting for me. The bastard had dragged his filthy claw along my Rover. That son-of-a-bitch!

I killed him, though. I think. He lunged and…. I looked down at my left arm. Two pale lines slashed across my skin. He’d stumbled and caught me on the arm, but I got him in the neck….

The sudden sound of rustling paper snapped me from my thoughts. Tension grabbed me, the awareness crackling beneath the surface of my skin.

Someone is in my house.

Stepping through the open living room door, a new scent invaded my nostrils. Tangy, manufactured, like expensive cologne. An unfamiliar, black travel bag sat tucked away between the red leather sofa and the TV stand. The papers rustled again. I moved lightly toward the archway that lead into the dining room, my sword still gripped comfortably in my right hand.

“Your breakfast is getting cold, Heather. I suggest you stop trying to sneak in here and just come in so that we can get this over and done with,” said the deep male voice of whoever was in my kitchen.

What the hell is going on? Who is he? Why is he in my house? How does he know my name? And why the hell has he cooked me breakfast?

I took a deep breath, and then exhaled before slowly walking through the archway into the empty dining room. When I turned my head to the left, I saw a strange man seated at my kitchen breakfast bar. He sat casually, in jeans and a forest green T-shirt that clung to his broad, sculpted back and defined biceps. The sun flooded into the kitchen through the side window and glinted off his copper-blond hair, which brushed his shoulders.

“Are you going to come into the room or stand there drooling all day?” He turned a page of his newspaper. I couldn’t place his accent, although certain words had a dull edge to them…a Northerner, perhaps?

I inhaled again; nothing new amongst the scent of dog, pine, bacon, and coffee, which meant he wasn’t a Vampire. Leeches smelled like mouldy, wet earth; not an overpowering smell, but hidden underneath the products they wore. Not that a Vampire could get in here, anyway. They could only come in with a personal invite, and since they all wanted me dead…. No matter what state I’d been in last night, I wouldn’t have invited one in. So, who the hell is this guy?

I walked toward him, my sword glinting in the sunlight, the hilt gripped firmly in both hands. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?” I stopped three feet behind him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Wrong answer.” The tip of my sword found the firm space between his shoulder blades. “I said, who the hell are you and what—”

“Killing me isn’t going to help.” He turned another page of his paper.

“I disagree. I think killing the stranger who broke into my house is a very good idea.”

“I did not break in,” he replied calmly. “My name is Brendan Daniels and I’m actually here to help you.”

I snorted. “Like I believe that.”

“It’s the truth. Besides, if I really wanted to hurt you, I would have. I also wouldn’t have left your weapons with you.”

“Well, you’re obviously an eejit.”

He laughed. “You have serious trust issues.”

“Trust issues? Says the complete stranger who broke into my house and—”

“I used your house keys. They were in your jacket pocket,” he said. “And yes, trust issues, says the stranger. The stranger who promises he isn’t here to hurt you.”

“Just because you say you’re not here to hurt me doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”

“True. But why go to the trouble of killing you when I could have left you lying in the car park the other night and let the seven greedy Leeches looking for you find you and bleed you dry?”

My stomach turned as memories of my outing slammed clearly into my brain. I had walked into a trap, so set on finding Carlson that the need to kill the bastard once and for all had blocked all sense and reason. Twelve lower generation Vampires had been waiting on the rooftops surrounding the loading bay. Carlson and Antonio wouldn’t stop talking, so I backed out of the area, and that’s when I saw them all. Their black eyes watched my every move as their mouths hung wide, displaying their fangs.

“I have waited so long for this moment,” Carlson had said.

So had I.

My grandmother never told me where to find him. She wouldn’t let me kill him even though he deserved my sword through his neck more than any other Vampire.

They obviously found out Gran had died and simply waited for me to come out and play. I went, and they had been waiting for me, and like some amateur, I walked right into their trap. I killed two Vampires in order to get out of the loading bay, and then I had the other ten, along with Carlson and Antonio, chasing me through the dark and empty back streets of London. I tried to lead them somewhere humans wouldn’t find us; much good it did me.

But none of that explained who this guy was or why the hell he’d made himself at home in my kitchen.

“So you were there?”

“That much is obvious. Who do you think brought you home?”

“How did you even know where I live?”

“You have sat-nav in your Rover. And, like I said, I’m here to help.” He slid off the stool; the tip of my sword grazed his green T-shirt.
I clenched my teeth. “Why help me? You don’t even know me.”

He finally turned to face me. He’d pulled back his copper-blond hair, allowing me to see his face fully. A broad nose accompanied by high cheekbones and a tall forehead set off the deepest green eyes I’d ever seen. A fine layer of copper stubble outlined his square jaw and surrounded thick, peach lips.

His emerald eyes sparkled as I met his gaze.

“True, but I helped you because I thought it would be in your best interest to get you back to the safety of your own house.”
He thought it would be in my best interest? Who the hell does this guy think he is, a knight in shining armour? He looks like a friggin’ Ken doll, for Christ’s sake, and…. Wait a damn minute. “Seven Vampires?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Before, you said seven Vampires? There were twelve left.”

“Well, you eventually killed the Italian one before collapsing in front of your car, leaving eleven. The blond one who couldn’t decide whether he wanted to eat you or screw you—”

“Carlson.” I shuddered at the memory of him pinning my body to the rough concrete road. His thighs clamped my legs shut as he lapped at the blood trickling down my forehead….

“Well, turns out he, as well as three of the others, actually needed their heads to fight back, but the rest of them ran off, and since my priority is you—”

“You’re the one who knocked Carlson off me?”

Memories exploded and rolled around my mind like storm clouds. Carlson had slid his talons into my waist, knocking me to the pavement and causing me to cut my forehead. He had pinned me between the ground and his growing erection while he demanded I beg him to change me. A few cheap insults and shoving some silver in his ribcage was enough to piss him off—as if I would want to be blood-bonded to the bastard who’d helped destroy my mother and father. On my refusal, he’d bared his fangs; about to feed from me…then the next thing I knew, he was gone. Once I got to my feet, I saw four decomposing bodies on the ground, only yards away from where I, myself, had almost bled to death.

“Yes.” He picked up a glass of orange juice and took a mouthful.

“Carlson is dead?”

He gulped. “Well, last time I checked, decapitation usually does the trick. So, yeah.”

A strange relief flooded me. My hands began to tremble. I tightened my grip, trying to keep a firm hold on my sword. “Are you a hundred and ten percent sure he’s dead?”

“A hundred and forty-six percent sure.”

I couldn’t believe it. Carlson, dead. Well, in the sense that he wouldn’t be prowling the streets or feeding ever again. He was actually gone. I suddenly didn’t know whether to hug this strange man, or kill him for taking away my opportunity to kill the monster that’d infected my mother. “Why did you kill him?”

He laughed. “Well, I was considering letting him and the rest of his friends eat you, but then that wouldn’t have made me a very good guardian, now, would it?”

 

Scottish Werewolves: freaky Vampires and a Slayer with a bad addiction and an insane legacy. Add a big dose of sarcasm, sizzling chemistry; a lot of silver and a ton of blood and . . . Welcome to the Blood Series.

Note: She-Wolf and Cranberry Blood are both previously published titles, but have been polished, improved, and have even had scenes added for their re-release. Both books as well as all that will follow will be self-published.

Cranberry Blood
Blood Series: Book One

Blurb:

Killing Vampires? Easy.

Tracking someone? Simple.

Helping, and protecting a Vampire slayer . . . . Bloody hard work!

Thirteen years ago, Brendan Daniels made a deal with a psychic. In exchange for information on the whereabouts of a Rogue Werewolf, he promised to help and protect Sofia’s granddaughter. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was letting himself, or his Pack, in for.

Nothing about Heather is simple, from her weird dietary needs to her life’s mission. The girl can handle herself, but the promise to protect her soon becomes a need, and one he can’t fully understand.

Vampire Slayer.
Born Infected.
Addicted to blood . . . but not by choice.

Heather Ryan is the current Slayer in a long family line. Like all before her, she has spent her life searching for her ancestor, Marko Pavel, the Vampire her family has sworn to kill. If that isn’t complicated enough, she is also a born “Infected”, and to keep her from becoming insane or giving in to her darker side, she is on a very strict diet.

Now that her Grandmother Sofia has passed, it is up to Heather to take the family legacy into her own hands. Or at least, it would have been…if her Grandmother hadn’t sent a Werewolf to help her.

What is the irritating Brendan supposed to help her with? Sofia never told either of them. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for Heather and Brendan to find out that the Vampires have big plans, and that the Leeches have waited a long time for them both.
This title contains explicit language, violence, and some scenes of a sexual nature.
Length: Novel| Content: Urban Fantasy| Publisher: Self-Published


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EM_She-Wolf_453x680She-Wolf

Blood Series: Prequel

 

Blurb:

Dealing with the Rogue Werewolves terrorizing his Pack? Simple.

Trying to convince his mate he does want to be with her? Bloody impossible.

Owen MacLaren is the Alpha’s son and the Pack’s second, and he has never been one to let anything get to him. So when a bunch of Rogues begin purposely dumping mutilated bodies around the Pack Keep, he is more than ready to deal with the Werewolves responsible.

But one night off and a trip to a local strip joint for a colleague’s stag night changes things, and Owen soon discovers he isn’t immune to everything . . . .

Being an independent Loup and travelling the world? Easy.

Having to come home and face the Werewolf who broke her young heart? Challenging.

After five years away, Clare Walker finds herself back home in Scotland, working in a strip club. The tips are decent, and she gets to dance, but it isn’t a place she thought she would ever be, let alone Owen, her Pack second and the mate she has always desired.

Although Owen is determined to prove he wants to be with Clare, things can’t go smoothly between them, not when they have past issues to sort out and a bunch of unusual ‘Rogues’ to deal with.

This title contains explicit language, violence, and graphic sex.

Length: Novel| Content: Paranormal Erotic Romance| Publisher: Self-Published
eBook Buy Links:
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Paperback Buy Links:
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~ * ~

About the Author:

Elizabeth Morgan is a multi-published author of urban fantasy, paranormal, erotic horror, f/f, and contemporary; all with a degree of romance, a dose of action and a hit of sarcasm, sizzle or blood, but you can be sure that no matter what the genre, Elizabeth always manages to give a unique and often humorous spin to her stories.

Like her tagline says; A pick ‘n’ mix genre author. “I’m not greedy. I just like variety.”

And that she does, author of erotic ménage horror, Creak, paranormal erotic horror and UK, US & Australian Amazon best seller (Gay/Lesbian, Fiction, Lesbian), On the Rocks, erotic romance, US, UK & Spanish Amazon bestseller (Erotica Short Story) Truth or Dare? And sweet contemporary romance, UK & US Amazon bestseller (British/Drama & Plays) Stepping Stones.

She also has her hand in self-publishing. Look out for more information on her upcoming releases at her website: www.e-morgan.com

Away from the computer, Elizabeth can be found in the garden trying hard not to kill her plants, dancing around her little cottage with the radio on while she cleans, watching movies or good television programmes – Dr Who? Atlantis? The Musketeers? Heck, yes! – Or curled up with her two cats reading a book.

For more information on Elizabeth’s work, published and upcoming, head on over to her site:

Website: www.e-morgan.com
Blog:
www.xxxxmyworldxxxx.blogspot.com
Twitter: @
EMorgan2010
Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/ElizabethMorgan
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.morgan.944
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/elizabethm2012/boards/
Blog: (Shared with Dianna Hardy):
http://notjustastiffupperlip.blogspot.co.uk/

*****

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Things Go Hump in the Night in Suz deMello’s Vampire Stories (@suzdemello @MFRW_ORG #vampires #vampireromance)

thingsthatgohump300x200Why do we love vamps?

In a word: they’re hot

Like great chocolate, vampires are smooth, seductive and dangerous. They’re invariably wealthy because they prey upon whoever they please and can steal for a living if they choose. Anne Rice’s Lestat is the classic example.

And many female fans enjoy the fantasy of losing control to a sexy, dominant male. On top of that, our culture worships the young and the beautiful.

 

In my writing, I emphasize not only the vampires’ sensuality, but also their unnatural strength and speed. In Blood is Thicker… my heroine works as a PI. In one scene, she leaps with ease onto the roof of an apartment building.

 

Blood is ThickerHere’s an excerpt from Blood is Thicker…, a vampire tale set in northern California. A paranormal action-adventure, it features two vampires, one selkie and a kidnapped baby.

 

I cannot begin to describe the communion that’s created when two immortals connect. Kissing is like an orgasm not only of the body, but of the mind and soul as well. Yes, we have souls, unnatural though they may be.

I tugged him closer, frantic to feel his chest against mine, desperate for his cock to enter me. It had been so long… Besides, up close and personal, John’s sheer masculinity overwhelmed me. I’d forgotten how seductive lust could be. I could become addicted to his kiss, the hard planes of his body beneath my questing fingertips, his raw animal blood-scent.

 

If you like what you read, find the complete short story here:

http://www.ellorascave.com/blood-is-thicker.html

 

suz w name venice maskAbout the author:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms as Totally Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
find Suzie’s books here:

 

http://www.tinyurl.com/SuzDeMello (publisher’s site)

 

http://www.suzdemello.com (website)

*****

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Knicker-Dampening Vampires by Victoria Blisse (@victoriablisse)

thingsthatgohump300x200It’s my birthday today and I will definitely be indulging in some of my favourite foods and of course a great big slab of birthday cake.  I’ll send you all a slice though your broadband connections. Might be a bit crumbly once it’s been through the wifi though.

I’m a sweetness and light kinda gal. I don’t like to be scared. I know for some people a scary book or movie is a delight, not me. I end up with nightmares for weeks after. So I tend to try and avoid anything past a Dr Who levels of frightening.

pointForever-Love-VampSo what am I doing here on a blog hop that celebrates all things spooky and paranormal? Good question. I’m here ‘cos my wonderful mate KD asked me to join in with Things that go Hump in the Night and also to introduce you to my vampires.

Yep, I can imagine you blinking and pulling a confused face after reading that. Yes, I’ve written stories about vampires and vampires are pants wettingly scary. However my vampires will make your knickers damp but in a far more pleasurable way.

My vampires have discovered a night club named The Point and how to count to ten. Let me explain. The founder of the club discovered that if a vampire sucks the blood of a human who is just at the point of climax up to a count of ten then that vamp will be satisfied. No need to kill, just to thrill. The Point facilitates the connection between hungry vampires and willing humans.

Here’s an excerpt from the very first Point Vamp book which illustrates the special Suck and fuck technique. We’re diving right into the action, so hang on it’s going to be a bumpy ride:

He gently undulated his hips. One hand rested on her hip, the other on the back of the sofa, and he moved. She knew he was holding himself back, checking that she wasn’t in pain with her ankle. She wasn’t. All she could feel was the ecstasy of him inside of her.

“Yes, fuck me harder,” she gasped after a few minutes of slow, teasing thrusts. She needed more. She needed to feel the violence and the lust she’d seen in his eyes moments earlier. She wanted more.

“Your wish, my lady, is my command.” He leant over her then, his arms came to rest level with her chest, and she lifter her arms straight over her head to accommodate them. She felt so wanton as her breasts lifted higher in the corset, displaying more of her delicate moons to him. She took great delight in feeling his lips press briefly to one then the other before he started to thrust in earnest.

She yelped and mewled. She wanted to speak, but all sensible thought was knocked from her mind as he fucked her hard. She wrapped her hands around his neck and raked her fingers through his hair. He was rough, and she loved it. Every thrust made her body vibrate and her cunt clench to hold in the pleasure, to squeeze his cock and make him groan and pump harder.

pointLush-Point-Vamp“Elizabeth,” he gasped, and she opened her eyes. He was looking down at her, and their gazes met. His look was hungry. He wanted to devour her, and she felt as if she was his prey. “Elizabeth, I’m losing all control, oh God Elizabeth, I can’t hold back any more.”

He kissed her then. His hips still pumped in a frenzy and his kiss matched his cock in its ferocity. He took her breath away, and his lips slipped down her cheek to her chin and landed on her neck. He started to nip and to nibble, he sucked and he bit. She felt as if her skin had been punctured by fine shards of glass, and as he sucked and he fucked her, she came violently without warning, her juices flowing freely.

In the maelstrom of intensity, she felt Hugh still, his cock pressed deep inside of her as his body shuddered in an echo of her orgasm. It was only then she found the ability to think once more as the sharp, arousing sting at her neck retracted.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, scrabbling away from her. “I got carried away.” He was so filled with lust that, at the height of his ecstasy, he had bitten and sucked her. She was like the finest wine. Her blood was the best he had ever tasted. He had to drag himself away from her. She was so good, it only took a few drops to satiate him, but he still wanted more.

“It’s okay. It’s only a love bite.” She reached up and touched the tender flesh, and Hugh saw surprise register on her face as she discovered blood on her fingertips. “Oh, my skin must be a bit thin,” she said.

Hugh pushed a handkerchief into her hand as he licked his lips and removed all traces of his mistake from them.

“I am sorry, Elizabeth. I shouldn’t have—”

“I enjoyed it,” she said. “I’ve never—well, not like that. I mean—oh I don’t know what I mean, but it was good, so good, for me anyway. Was it not so for you?”

Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, and he felt how unsure she was. He had hurt her, and as he struggled into his trousers, he tried to soothe her.

“It was good for me, Elizabeth. Better than good. I lost control for the first time in a long time. I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, it’s okay. There are worse things than a little bite given at the height of passion. I should be able to hide it okay. I don’t mind at all, really.”

He sighed. She didn’t understand and wouldn’t unless he explained, and he didn’t want to do that. He just smiled.

“Well, if you say so, my lady. I will stop apologising now. I’ll get you some blankets. You will have to sleep there, I think. I don’t think you’ll be able to get upstairs, but it’s late and you should sleep.” He shrugged on his jacket.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose so.”

He could see the disappointment in her eyes. He knew it sounded as if he were giving her the brush off, but what else could he do. If they had sex again, he might just rip out her jugular whilst at the height of passion. He could not let that happen.

 

Phew. Hot right? Here’s the blurb incase you’re interested in picking up The Point for yourself:

The PointLove conquers all, that is the point but can it bridge the differences between a vampire and a woman?

Hugh is twenty eight. He has been twenty eight for nearly one hundred years. Hugh is a vampire. He owns a club called The Point and he pays girls to have sex with him. He then counts to ten as he sucks their blood to semi-satisfy his lust.

Elizabeth is a doctor, she loves her job but likes to escape into the countryside now and then. When she twists her ankle Hugh comes to her aid. He carries her curvy form all the way back to his home. He takes care of her ankle and the rest of her body too but he goes too far and sucks her perfectly intoxicating blood.

How can these two lovers have any kind of relationship? They don’t know, only time will reveal the answers.

Pick up The Point  or check out all the books in the Point Vamp Series including  First Time Fang Bang an award winning short story you read for free!

*****

Victoria BlisseAuthor Bio:

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco, Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut events, days dedicated to erotica, fun and prizes. Check out http://smutters.co.uk  for more details.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse  and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse

To find out more check out http://victoriablisse.co.uk

*****

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The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

The Phallus of OsirisDeath and Lust and Vampires!

The Master is a sex vampire. His aim: to dominate through the glories of the flesh. His minions are beautiful and lascivious and their eager bodies and warped minds are bent to his evil purpose. The lost Phallus of Osiris is the greatest erotic talisman known to man and the Master will not rest until he has it in his possession. Just one woman can help him fulfil his dark ambitions – the one person who still resists him. Mara, the white witch. Great though the Master’s power is – in Mara, and The Phallus of Osiris, he may have met his match.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com

*****

Excerpt:

It was dark in the room. Dark and strangely airless. But Mara felt no fear. She stretched out her hand and touched her unseen lover’s hand. Although she could not see him, she knew he was standing by the side of the bed; that he was naked, and ready for her . . .

‘Come to me . . .’ breathed Mara. And her fingers moved from her lover’s hand to explore his body – running down his flank, his thigh; searching eagerly for the warm weight of his testicles; seeking out his most sensitive and intimate places to tease and excite his flesh; and bring him to her.

She heard his breathing: hoarse and quickening now. And seconds later, she felt him sit down on the bed beside her, felt the soft coverings yield to his weight as he lay down by her side and pressed his hot nakedness up against her willing flesh.

He was by her side now, stroking her with knowing fingers that seemed to read her mind, divine her every dream and wish. His fingers slid down her body, as though taking the measure of her, mapping out the fullest extent of the bounty offered to them. They fluttered like butterfly wings, up from the firm roundness of her hips to the taut flesh of her tiny waist, and then up still further; until at last they found the swelling amplitude of her magnificent breasts, caressing their firmness appreciatively.

He was kneeling beside her: leaning over her, the better to toy with her. Mara gasped with pleasure as invisible hands cupped her breasts and kneaded their warm and yielding flesh. Skilled fingers searched out the budding hardness of her nipples and pinched them between finger and thumb, just hard enough to provoke an irresistible blend of pain and pleasure.

‘Take me!’ gasped Mara, reaching up and touching the hands which were so knowingly exploring her body. They were strong hands, hands she felt she knew well; hands that were strong and sinewy and capable of great violence – and yet gentle enough to tease, torment, arouse.

Strong, sinewy wrists and forearms . . . She could reach no further; so she stretched out her hand to the side, and felt for the body of her unseen lover. Her hand made contact with his thigh, muscular and covered with thick, coarse hair. She slid her hand upwards, upwards, letting her fingers glide softly over the hairs; and she felt her lover tremble at the exquisite torment of her touch. Bolder now, she let her hand move higher still, and shivered with delight as her fingers brushed against her lover’s testicles.

They were heavy, vital, pulsating with a raw energy that communicated itself to her as she stroked their velvety pouch, weighing them in her palm. Then she let her fingers stray still further, and felt them slide deliriously along the smooth length of a hard and throbbing shaft that she knew yearned to bury itself in her.

And as she stroked it, she felt herself grow hotter and wetter, her juices welling up as though from some secret spring deep within her. It was as though she was melting from the inside outwards, as butter might melt in anticipation of the hot knife that would soon plough into its

soft and willing depths . . .

The room was filled now with the fragrance of sex; the sweet, heady aroma of a cunt well greased, of a prick whose tip glistens with the first drops of semen, the first promise of the torrents to come. Mara slid her hand along her lover’s shaft and ran her fingertips gently over its tip: it was already slippery with love-juice and she shivered again with the delicious anticipation of its entry into her most intimate places.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

  • The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
  • Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
  • The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
  • Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
  • The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
  • The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
  • Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
  • The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
  • Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
  • The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
  • Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
  • 3 by Julie Hilden
  • Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
  • Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
  • Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
  • The Agency by David Meltzer
  • Burn by Michael Perkins
  • Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
  • Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
  • Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
  • Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald
 
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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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