All posts by K D Grace

The Taming: Part 3 of The Pet Shop — FREE!

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I’m very excited to announce another 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. Same Story, same sexy, naughty Pets, only broken down into three bite-size, mouthwatering novellas. Part Three, The Taming, is now available for FREE for the next five days on Amazon beginning on Wednesday, 22 May.  And, since Xcite is only too aware that Pets are addicting, to help feed your addiction for hot kinky romance, Part One, The Gift, and Part Two,  The Secret Life of Pets, are just £.77 each in the UK and $1.19 in the US. Remember, the three-part version of The Pet Shop will get you the same delicious story as the novel, only in three smaller packages to keep you titillated and teased with yummy bite-sized morsels. Enjoy!

(Just a quick reminder. If you’re an early bird on the other side of the Pond, the U.S. link may be available a few hours later than the UK link because of the time change. But be patient, and naughty FREE Pets will swiftly be coming your way)

Here’s a little teaser of what you’ll find in The Taming. Remember, though the download of The Taming is free, it’s anything BUT tame.

Blurb:

Reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston has told Stella James she can have Vincent or she can have Tino, the Pet, but she can’t have both. The problem is Stella wants both. As the complications of wanting both sides of a man who can’t allow himself to be whole mount, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

Excerpt:

‘It’s not bad enough they saddle me with Tino, now I get his female counterpart.’ The familiar handler in his black suit pushed his way in and started tugging at Stella’s clothes. ‘Do I have torture me written across my forehead? Is it bad karma? I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you two.’

She tried to shove his hands away. ‘Look, I just can’t do this. I was told that once I was out I was out, and I just can’t do this. I want out, alright?’

‘Bullshit! Of course you can do it, and it’s not alright, now get out of your clothes and stop talking or I’ll have to spank your arse, and don’t think I won’t do it. Fuckin’ hell, first Tino, then you, and now both of you. They don’t pay me enough for this.’

Suddenly she stopped fighting him and he continued with the stripping. ‘Did you say Tino? Tino’s with you.’

‘I’m speaking English, aren’t I?’ He gave her a resounding smack across the arse he’d just bared and shoved the trench coat at her. ‘Get into this, and you’d better manage to at least act horny when you get there ‘cause I don’t have time to strap you into the Foreplayer.’ He smacked her bottom again, then wrestled her into the coat and jerked the sash tight. ‘Now give me your keys and let’s go unless you want your arse and Tino’s spanked soundly by your keeper for being late when you get there. Tino might like that just fine. Not sure how your tender little bum would hold up.’

She was trembling so hard by the time she got to the van that the handler had to help her in. He had taken the trench coat and shoved her into the large pet carrier before she realized she was sharing it with Tino, who scooped her to him in a tight embrace, and the delicious scent of the big Pet filled her nostrils and made her cunt clench and her pulse race. But it was Vincent’s smell too. Her nose wouldn’t be fooled this time, no matter how differently the two of them behaved. And the clench in her cunt was followed quickly by an even harder clench in her heart and a knotting in her stomach as she thought of waking up to find him gone. What the fuck kind of game was he playing?

With a growl that sounded too wild to belong to a Pet, she shoved her way out of his arms and elbowed him in the stomach generating enough momentum, even in the confined space, to make him grunt. The look of hurt on his face made her even more angry. How dare he be hurt? She wasn’t the one who ran away, and she’d had about enough of this emotional bate and switch. When he reached for her again, she bit him, hard. He sucked air and flinched. She wasn’t certain, but she thought he might have actually had to wrestle back a curse.

She shoved her way to the far corner of the pet carrier, banging her head on the side as the van driver took off. The handler, who stayed in the back with the pets pounded on the top of the cage, clearly misunderstanding what was going on.

‘Tino, you keep your cock to yourself until I get you there, you hear me? If I see any sign of spunk, or smell it, I’ll tell your keeper to tie that cock of yours in a knot and make you hold your load all weekend, you got that?’

Not if hell freezes over will he find any spunk, at least not any having to do with her, Stella thought.

She could see Tino’s pulse pounding against his throat, and his chest rose and fell like he would hyperventilate. And he was hard. He was always hard, damn him!

She pressed her cheek to the side of the Pet carrier and tried to ignore the way his gaze bore into her, tried to ignore the press of their legs, which was unavoidable in the tight space. And the smell of him. My god, how could she ignore the smell of him? She dreamed of his scent. She masturbated to thoughts of his scent, and here she was trapped with it, and aching for it, and still so furious she could barely breathe. She wanted to yell and scream at him, she wanted to know why, why he had left her. What game he was playing?  Instead she sat with her back pressed as tightly to the slats of the carrier as possible and tried to ignore him.

The next time he reached for her, she slapped him, slapped him hard enough to make her hand sting.

‘What the hell are you two up to?’ The handler rattled the pet carrier again. ‘If I have to drag you both out and wear the spanker out on your bottoms, don’t think I won’t. Now knock it off.’

Stella pulled herself as far into the corner as she could get and tried to ignore the smell of Tino’s arousal, made even more obvious by his erection bobbing against his thigh, the thigh he made no effort to pull out of her space. She shoved at him. But he didn’t budge. She tried to turn her back on him as much as she could, but he pushed in still closer, not allowing her to ignore him.

He kept pushing at her and pushing at her until she kicked at him, which was useless with bare feet in such tight quarters, but he took the opportunity to pounce, nearly upsetting the pet carrier. The handler cursed and uttered a string of threats, most of which Stella didn’t hear because she was fighting to keep from being pinned under Tino.

The van screeched to a halt with both pets being shoved by the momentum to the front of the carrier. Then the carrier door flew open and Tino was wrestled out by the handler and the driver. ‘Goddamn it, I said knock it off!’ The driver held Tino while the handler hooked his collar to a short lead and a pair of hand cuffs that were attached to the wall of the van, then he stormed out of the van and Stella could hear him shouting into his mobile something about all hell breaking loose.

Tino ignored it all, as though nothing else in the world had his attention but her. His gaze was now unreadable, possibly a little more like Vincent, but then how the hell could she tell who he was playing at. The van driver stepped out to have a fag, and she took advantage. ‘You left me, you son of a bitch. You left me without telling me why.’

She swallowed the last word as the door to the van burst open and the handler shoved his way back in to sit down next to Tino. ‘Lucky for you two miscreants the Professor assures me he’ll have no trouble handling misbehaving Pets. I think he rather likes the idea. The thought of you two being soundly disciplined definitely warms the cockles of my heart.’

The driver got back in and the van headed back down the M 25. This time the look on Tino’s face was utterly wounded, a look she couldn’t bare. She closed her eyes fighting back tears.

From Amazon.com

The Taming

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

From Amazon.co.uk

The Taming

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

Lisabet Sarai Breaks the Rules with Her Genre-defying New Release, Rajasthani Moon

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Fear of Flying

It would have been much faster to fly.

Alas, Cecily Harrowsmith—special agent for Her Majesty the Queen, expert in the martial arts of three continents, past mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime minister—was afraid of flying. She despised herself for this weakness, but not enough to board one of the Empire’s sleek, viridium-powered airships, strap herself into her seat and hope for the best.

Hence the current tedious journey. Cecily peered out of the window of herLisabet Sarai May post123rfDirigible-14428352_s carriage at the endless

expanse of russet-coloured desert stretching in all directions. The mere sight of all that sand was enough to make her throat burn. She sipped her tepid tea, wondering for the twentieth time why she’d accepted this bloody assignment.

Thus begins my most recent release, Rajasthani Moon, a book that deliberately defies categorization. It contains elements of the steam punk and paranormal sub-genres, plus quite a lot of moderately extreme BDSM and a M/F/M ménage. It features a kick-ass Rubenesque heroine, a billionaire Rajah and a sexy, deliciously disreputable bandit. It flirts with non-consensual fantasies and lesbian attraction. It has some funny moments, not infrequently associated with sex. Oh, and it’s a romance, with what I hope is a sublimely satisfying happy ending (although I won’t tell you who ends up with whom!)

Writing this book involved taking risks. I’ve observed how readers cling to their favorite genres. I’m breaking rules right and left with this novel. Will the market embrace my mash-up? Or will readers run away in droves, terrified of the unfamiliar?

Producing the same sort of stories, again and again, can be comfortable. It may help sales,  too. To grow as authors, though, we have to leave safety behind. We must step out onto that high pinnacle of creativity and let go, defying the fear that we’ll plummet ignominiously to the ground. We have to get over our fear of flying.

Rajasthani Moon is like nothing I’ve written before. Well, that’s not strictly true. Like most of my books, it has plenty of erotic content. What I mean is that I’ve never felt so free as I did writing this book. I gave myself permission to follow my imagination, no matter how wild its suggestions. I found this Lisabet Sarai may postrajasthanimoon_noquote_800difficult at first. The further I ventured out onto my self-constructed limb, though, the easier I found the process.

The result? Well, I’m pleased with it. I have no idea what other people will think. But I won’t worry. That’s out of my control.

And Cecily? She conquers her fear, too, eventually:

The passenger compartment was about ten feet long. Its walls were chest height. A canopy shaded one end, including the brass and quartz crystal control panel. The other was open to the sky, though the gas bag a dozen feet above them shielded them from the most direct rays of the sun. She was not surprised to discover that the floor was covered by multiple layers of intricately-patterned carpets and strewn with fat, multi-hued pillows. The Rajasthanis seemed to have little use for furniture.

Amir busied himself at the controls while Pratan lounged on the cushions, looking rakish and indolent. “Come here, Cecily,” he ordered. “Sometimes the take-off is a bit bumpy.”

Her heartbeat accelerated and her palms started to sweat at this reminder of what lay ahead. She gave him a sharp look. She could have sworn he was suppressing a chuckle.

Nevertheless, she reclined beside him, as he’d instructed. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and held her tight against his chest. His strength reassured her, but she still felt as though her stomach was turning somersaults.

A low frequency vibration hummed under them as Amir started the engine.

“Here we go,” called the Rajah. “Prepare to lift off.”

“Kiss me,” said Pratan. He took possession of her mouth without waiting for her acquiescence.

Amir released the tethers binding the dirigible to the roof. They retracted into their housings with a snap and the gondola swayed in reaction, springing upward a few feet. Cecily’s heart climbed into her throat. She gritted her teeth against sudden nausea. Pratan’s agile tongue wormed its way between her lips, urging her to relax and open, and the spell passed. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her body, pulling her loose clothing out of the way so that he could stroke her breasts and belly.

His scent enveloped her, sandalwood and smoke superimposed on animal musk. The wolf had not returned since their encounter on Mount Abu, but Pratan still smelt like something feral. He burrowed into her, sucking on her tongue and nibbling her lips, while his fingers teased her nipples into hungry knots. Cecily moaned as the pleasure mounted. She lay back, cradled in the nest of cushions, and allowed him free access.

***

Rajasthani Moon is available now from Total-E-Bound, at a 10% discount, and will have its general release at Amazon and other bookstores on May 31st. But why not get your copy now and save? TEB can download direct to your Kindle or other e-reader.

About Lisabet Sarai

Lisabet Sarai may postlisabetFaceLisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com)

A View from Above

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Back before I started work on the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, back when I thought there was only going to be one novel, I struggled hard to move forward and couldn’t figure why it wasn’t working. And then I got a glimpse, just a little glimpse, but enough, of the whole picture, and I understood that the story I was trying to tell was a trilogy and not a one-off. The story I needed to write, was way too big for one novel.

I was reminded again how important that view of the overall picture can be when my good friend, Melanie Frazier, sent me a link to a breath-taking photo of the Lake District taken from the International Space Station, and I was deeply moved by such a view of a place I love, of a place that inspired and figured strongly, into each of the three Lakeland Heatwave novels, almost as if it were another character in its own right.

The lake District image taken from the International space Station behbysjcaaayk3t-large

 

The photo was tweeted by Canadian astronaut, Chris Hadfield from on board the International Space Station. Commander Hadfield is a flight engineer currently on Expedition 34 on the station and has gained popularity on Twitter by sharing stunning photos of space and his views of Earth as the International Space Station orbits roughly 200 miles above the planet, moving at over 17,000 miles per hour.

How could such a ‘snapshot’ of one of my very favourite places not get me thinking about writers and the way we view our stories. I’ve always been an advocate of what I like to call snapshot writing. Snapshot writing is giving the reader snippets of detail, of experience, of a fleshed-out moment so full, so rich that the reader can feel it, taste it, revel in it. A snapshot can say so much about an event, often way more than words can. So for me one of the most powerful tools in my writing tool box is to create a snapshot with words, to write a moment so vividly that readers are instantly transported to the place and time. Commander Hadfield’s amazing snapshot from space has done just that for me.

Imagine my delight when I realised that I could not only see the whole of the Lakeland Heatwave trilogy in that snapshot, but I could see all the snapshots, all the intricately woven stories of my own adventures on the fells, of my own explorations and uncoverings of Lakeland one footstep at a time.

castlerigg_Stone_Circle1 How could I not wonder what Alfred Wainwright would have thought if he could see his beloved Lakeland in such a view from above? His incredibly detailed drawings and descriptions of the Lakeland Fells are among the most accurate, most lovely, most poetic ever recorded. I can’t count the number of times I’ve sat in the Twa Dogs Inn in Keswick, the night before climbing a fell I’d never walked before, drinking Cumberland Ale while reading through Wainwright’s notes and studying the maps and drawings from his Pictorial Guides of the Lakeland Fells. The beauty in the minute detail of his work is now reflected in a stunning overview from space. How could anyone not be moved by that?

More than just the love of Lakeland, which I could go on and on about, and frequently do, is the sense of place such a snapshot from space gives. (I’ve added links with lots of pictures to show you the up-close-and personal of what you can see from a distance from the ISS photo. Enjoy!) I can look at that shot and see Ullswater and Derwent Water. I can see snow-capped Helvellyn and Skafell Pike, the highest peak in England. I can see the Borrowdale Valley, the Newlands Horseshoe, Honister Pass – all the places my characters in the Lakeland trilogy frequent – all the places I’ve frequented, and I couldn’t not share it. So if you look closely at the picture, the highest snow-covered point in the lower right — that’s Helvellyn. Its iconic Striding Edge put me to the test in one of the most adrenaline-laced, exquisite walks I’ve ever done in the Lake District.

And if you look to the left and slightly lower, at the last snow-covered range in the picture, that high point is Scafell Pike, the highest point in England and another walk I’m proud to say I’ve had the pleasure of doing.

But now, if you look in between those two ranges and slightly north, settled, almost centred, in between the two is a dark spot, roughly oval in shape with jagged edges. That’s Derwent Water with Keswick on the northeast shore invisible to the naked eye from so far above. To the south of the lake, where the fells begin again, is the Borrowdale Valley. And slightly to the left, you can just make out the irregular U-shape of the Newland’s Horseshoe, all of the above frequented by my characters in the Lakeland trilogy, frequented by me. The Newland’s Horseshoe is the place where both Marie Warren and I first ‘got lost’ in the mist. The Borrowdale Valley and the Newlands Horseshoe are the places that inspired the trilogy, the places where heather clings to steep cliffs, where deserted slate quarries make for slippery descents, where the views are breath-taking and where it can all disappear into the mist in a heartbeat.

I’m so glad it was clear the day Commander Hadfield took this picture. I can’t stop looking at it. I love the fact that I’m somehow connected to that place and all the stories it evokes – not just mine, but everyone else’s – all those poets and walkers and writers and photographers and artists – past, present and yet to come — who have found Lakeland as powerful and as moving as I have. I’m connected to all of them, and by that connection, to all of those who read the writings and look at the works of art inspired by that tiny, rugged piece of land that’s just as exquisite when seen from 200 miles above as it is when explored slowly, painstakingly, one footstep at a time.

Surely there is no other place in this whole world quite like Lakeland … no other so exquisitely lovely, no other so charming, no other that calls so insistently across a gulf of distance. All who truly love Lakeland are exiles when they are away from it.

Alfred Wainwright

Sh!’s Lovely Renee Gives Tips for Women to Make the Most of National Masturbation Month and Beyond!

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To help celebrate National Masturbation Month, it’s my pleasure to welcome back Sh!‘s manager, sexy lady extraordinaire and a very good friend of mine, Renee Denyer. Renee has agreed to give a few helpful hints for getting the best out of a good wank.  Welcome back, Renee!

Sisters Should Be Doing It For Themselves!Renee

When talking about masturbation, many (if not most) women come over all shy and bashful. ‘We don’t ‘do’ masturbation’ (well, we do – but it’s not polite to talk about it). Ask any man, and he’ll proudly tell you he ‘knocked one out’ in the shower this morning, and I even know one man who’ll tell all and sundry that he masturbates twice a day (that certainly explains the stack of wet wipes in his bathroom!), on top of any partner-sex he may be lucky enough to get.

Why is it that us women can’t/won’t share tips on how to flick our beans?

Well, I believe it stems from childhood and being told that ‘nice girls don’t.’ Proud fathers will hand their teenage sons copies of ‘Busty Babes’ whilst bemused mums turn a blind eye. (My OH, for example, even kept a scrap book of all his favourite pictures of knickerless and pert-breasted young ladies during his teenage years. I was rather amused when we realised his mum had kept the homemade wank-mag amongst washed-out old Iron Maiden t-shirts all these years!). Daughters, on the other hand, are told to keep their hands off their privates (and preferably not let anyone else near them either) until they’re at least 30…

Unfair? Hell Yes!

Here at Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium, we’ve met so many women who don’t know how to pleasure themselves that we decided to put together a

Rosie
Rosie

class on how to wank. Yep. It’s true. We teach women how to masturbate. With the help of Rosie, we show some tried & tested techniques, and then send the female guests on their merry way with some juicy homework. See, all you really need for a great session is a bottle of lube and dexterous fingers (failing that, a good toy will do the job just as well)!

Imagine the clit as a clock face (the ‘clit-face’). Women often report that 10—11 am and 1-2 pm are the most sensitive spots, so hone in on them, but don’t forget that the entire vulva will want in on the action. Slidey, sensual moves are great for a sexy starter; feel your way around. You’ll find that some spots feel better than others, so enjoy them for as long as you like. If you decide to invite more pleasure-spots to the party, the G-spot will probably be thrilled with an invite!

For the main, a finger or two may work wonders inside. The vaginal canal quite likes having something to grip on to, so you may find this is a real treat. If you find it awkward to reach, a vibrator (or a dildo) may be just the thing. Your pc muscles can clench around the toy whilst your fingers slide around on the external parts of your vulva, and you can have lots of hot fun this way!

Breathing deeply, right down into your stomach, will help increase your arousal levels and by this point you may well find yourself pretty hot and ready for more!

You could try adding some warming lube like ID Sensation for extra effect. ID Sensation contains L’Arginine which ensures increased blood flow to FILTHY-FRIDAY-BANNERyour vulva, making it nice and juicy as well as much more receptive to stimulation.  I also recommend giving Tickle Her Pink sachets a go – I absolutely swear by these! Amazing stuff!

An erotic book or something sexy on the laptop will help you get worked up, too. We offer **FREE** erotica from an excellent selection of authors (Like KD!) on our blog every Friday (Filthy Friday), so make sure you hop on over for some free weekly smut! We’ll be enjoying Sexy Snax this Filthy Friday from Learning to Soar by Bebe Balocca

Renee masturbationlearningtosoar_800-1Stats show that 70-80% of women need clitoral stimulation in order to orgasm, and you are much better off trying to learn what works for you all by yourself before adding a lover into the mix. If *you* don’t know what works for you, it’s unlikely that your partner will hit the right spot…

Keep your masturbation under wraps until you are ready to show off your new skills – it’s incredibly hot watching a partner get themselves off, so expect fireworks once your private show is over! (#BONUS!)

In these cash-strapped times, we are all looking for good-value activities, and you know, masturbation is absolutely FREE (as well as a healthy way of getting some colour on your cheeks and a twinkle in your eye!).  So, Ladiez – get your lube, get a copy of one of KD Grace or Grace Marshall’s books for inspiration, lock the door, switch your phone off and get masturbating!

***

Oh, and before I go: Big Thanxx to KD Grace for letting me talk wanking on her awesome blog!

***

Renee is the Senior Store Manager at female-focused erotic boutique Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium in Hoxton Square. She has her fingers in many pies and spends her days talking about G-spots, P-spots and any other spots you may have found in your nether regions.

When she is not selling sex toys to the women & couples of London, she can be found at home with a thrilling book and a glass of pink wine, surrounded by her beloved bunnies (of the furry variety).

Follow the Sh! Girlz for all the latest fun & frolics:Renee on masturbationSh!_logo_300dpi

Twitter: @ShWomenstore

Facebook: Sh! Hoxton

Website: http://www.sh-womenstore.com/

 

 

 

Inventing Herself by Sommer Marsden

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Inventing HerselfSophie Calhoun has a good job writing for a hot women’s magazine. Her latest assignment is to do an article about how a strong, confident woman can look deeper into herself to find her centre. The only problem is Sophie feels lost. On a whim one morning, looking for the answers to her unwritten article and the silent turmoil in her heart, she takes a hike. In the wilderness she finds a very large man sitting alone, calm and still and smiling – everything Sophie wants to be. When he opens his eyes and that smile is directed at her, Sophie begins to find herself…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

‘Now we move into downward dog.’ Joel’s rich caramel voice smoothed over Sophie.

If only she could feel gooey and bendy like caramel. Instead, she felt awkward and clumsy. She pushed back with the heels of her hands as she’d been instructed. Tried to “sink” into the stretch with the heels of her feet.

All she could think was what if I slip? What does my ass look like? And, of course, who farted?

Turned out that wasn’t so much of a myth. Someone had let one go and everyone was acting as if it was no big deal at all.

Which, technically, it wasn’t. It was just a fart, after all. Everyone had gas at some point in their lif –
‘You’re drifting,’ Joel said, his voice very close to her. So close it made Sophie go rigid. ‘Let me help you straighten your pose.’

He stepped up between her spread legs and settled his hands on her hips. Then he proceeded to move her a little here, a little there, until the stretch blazed up her calves and the backs of her hamstrings. It blazed somewhere else too, Sophie noticed as he lingered, tweaking her pose.

When he stepped back from between her legs, his hand stayed on her lower back for a beat before being removed. ‘Good,’ Joel said.

He was big and tall and obviously fit. A shock of dark – almost black – hair and grey eyes. His voice was as smoky and sensual as his body.

Sophie felt colour come to her face that had nothing to do with yoga or being inverted. The class lowered slowly to a plank pose and her muscles started to tremble. In her mind’s eye it was easy to put a face to it now. This man, down between her legs, his mouth on her. His fingers separating and skating over her nether lips. Finding her slick opening and plunging deep, curling to tease her G-spot until she gasped. Then taking her own juices, running up to find the needy swell of her clitoris. Circling and circling until plunging back into her cunt to stroke her most secret places again, his mouth sucking, his tongue nudging, licking, licking, licking until …

‘Now lower down into cobra pose,’ Joel said.

Sophie did, but as she did a noise burst out of her. Her body, on the verge actually coming, supplied the small blip and flutter deep inside of an almost orgasm. The sound was half sigh, half moan, and very, very sultry. Way too sultry for muscle stretching.

Joel chuckled softly. ‘Glad to know you’re enjoying class, Sophie. We’re glad to have you.’

She counted the heartbeats until class was over, she was so mortified. When Joel finally told them to stand and everyone gave what seemed to be the customary “Namaste” a woman in green leggings and a bright blue pullover whispered, ‘Don’t feel so bad. He has that effect on most of the newcomers. Once he touches someone … they’re toast.’

Sophie tried to smile and waited to self-combust.

She nearly set a record changing back into her work clothes, but when she came out Joel called out to her.

‘I was wondering –’ he said, sort of grinning at her.

Sophie caught the gaze of the green-legging woman. She was smiling, her look knowing.

‘Could I … call you? Take you out? Bring you wine and woo you with wild yoga tales?’ He smiled at her and the lust that smile inspired struck right down through the centre of her like a lightning bolt.
‘Um, yeah … sure. In fact –’ She broke off, thinking maybe she shouldn’t say what she was about to say. But fuck it. This whole “finding her centre” thing had taken her very close to thinking she was nuts. Might as well act nuts, right? Maybe Joel was that missing something. ‘How about you come to my place tonight. Bring that wine you mentioned and I can make a nice steak or – wait – do you eat meat?’

He nodded, eyes flashing with amusement. ‘I do. But thank you for asking.’

‘Good,’ she hurried on. Yes, this was it. This was a good thing. Maybe she was just in need of a date. Maybe she was just horny. ‘And maybe a salad and whatever. We can just … we can talk. Get to know one another.’

‘It’s a date,’ he said. He gave her his number so she could text her address.

‘Yes. It is a date,’ she said and hurried out of the studio. Kate was going to kill her!

*****

Bio:

Sommer Marsden’s been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen), and “Erotica royalty…” (Lucy Felthouse).

Her erotic novels include Restless Spirit, Boys Next Door, Big Bad, Learning to Drown, Wanderlust and the Zombie Exterminator series. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora’s Cave, Pretty Things Press, Resplendence Publishing and Mischief Books. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer’s short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines–both in print and online.