All posts by K D Grace

Free Lesbian Paranormal Goodness for Halloween

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Weekend At Wilderhope ManorWeekend at Wilderhope Manor by Lucy Felthouse is FREE from 27th – 31st October!

That’s right! Lucy Felthouse’s lesbian erotic story set over a Halloween weekend is FREE on Amazon UK and US from 27th – 31st October. Make sure to grab your copy, and tell all your friends!

Get it here: Amazon UK | Amazon US

Blurb:

When Stephanie and Jenny go to a Murder Mystery Halloween weekend at Wilderhope Manor, they’re expecting fun and games. But following creaky floorboards, spooky noises and an alarming encounter in the Manor’s grounds, the girls begin to wonder if there’s more to Wilderhope Manor than meets the eye. As they find frequent comfort in one another’s arms – and their bed – will the girls discover what’s causing the bumps in the night, or will they run scared?

Excerpt:

The car trundled up the long driveway, the crunching of gravel beneath tyres the only sound as Stephanie and her girlfriend, Jenny, peered out of the windows at their surroundings.

Even at dusk the tree-lined driveway was impressive with perfectly maintained parkland, spanning for acres on either side of it. As Stephanie steered the Fiesta around a bend in the track, they both gasped. Their destination, Wilderhope Manor, had come into view and it was stunning. The Tudor style property was huge, with no less than three frontages visible from where they were. Chimneys with intricately built patterns jutted into the darkening sky, with tangles of ivy climbing parts of the manor, giving the place an appearance that was both beautiful and foreboding.

Presently, the driveway opened out into a gravelled area, which as far as Stephanie could tell, doubled as a car park for the weekend. Stephanie manoeuvred into a spot between two vehicles and killed the engine. As she turned to Jenny, she jumped, startled. Her girlfriend had leaned in close, making a scary face with her hands mimicking claws.

“Are you ready to be scared out of your wits, young lady?” Jenny rasped, wiggling her eyebrows and fingers theatrically.

Stephanie shoved her playfully, laughing. “Come on, you silly cow. It’s a murder mystery weekend, not a monster hunt. There will be no ghosts, ghouls or vampires involved.”

Stephanie got out of the car and closed the door. She’d already popped open the boot and started unloading their bags before Jenny appeared alongside her, pouting petulantly.

“But it’s Halloween tomorrow,” Jenny insisted. “Anything could happen. The veil between the living and dead will be at its thinnest, and this place is meant to be swarming with ghosts.”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” she replied, rolling her eyes. She was used to Jenny’s crazy beliefs by now. “Grab your bags and let’s get inside. It’s cold. You got the tickets?”

Jenny nodded, brandishing her handbag in response. Jenny picked up her overnight bag as Stephanie slammed the boot lid before locking the car, then followed her toward the grand entrance to Wilderhope Manor.

* * *

A little while later, they were installed in their room. They’d each been handed a “Welcome Pack” by the staff member who had attended to them at Reception, which consisted of their itinerary and instructions for the weekend.

As they unpacked, she voiced one of the thoughts that had run through her head. “Have you ever noticed how places never bat an eye at two girls sharing a room, and yet, if it’s two guys, they automatically assume they’re gay?”

“They’ll soon change their tune when they see your outfit for tonight!” Jenny replied, grinning cheekily at her. “It screams ‘lesbian’ with every stitch!”

“Whatever do you mean, you saucy wench? Someone with girl parts dressing as a distinguished gentleman does not a lesbian make.”

“True, but I wonder what it’ll do to you? Perhaps it’ll work in reverse and turn you straight!”

Get it here: Amazon UK | Amazon US

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. 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

The Story Behind In His House of Submission by Justine Elyot

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The Story Behind The Story

 

It’s a pleasure to have back as my guest on The Story Behind the Story one of my very favourite writers and an all-around fab person, Justine Elyot. Welcome back, Justine!

 

Consuming Passions?

Here I am, taking shameless advantage of K D’s hospitality again, with a Mischief Petite Novel to tell you about.

It’s October now and the leaves are on the ground, but for this story we have to revisit the summer. I hope yours was a good one. Sarah’s certainly was.

In His House of Submission, history graduate Sarah Wells has taken a summer job archiving the antique treasures at the substantial home of famous film director, Jasper Jay. From the start, they have a shared passion – they both love things that have a past.

That’s not the only interest they have in common either, as Sarah soon finds out when she stumbles across his vast collection of BDSM paraphernalia.

Are the passions that bind them together strong enough to withstand other forces in their lives that conspire to keep them apart, though? Here’s an excerpt:

I presented myself for breakfast in the kitchen in my usual long skirt and top-and-scarf combo. He stopped me before I sat down and asked me to show him my underwear.

I almost asked why, but checked myself in time. Instead, I silently pulled up my top and then lifted my skirt, my pulse racing. Despite the soreness below, I felt ready to take more of him, tingling with the shameful joy of submission.

‘Too much,’ he said. ‘Go upstairs and take it off. You aren’t going to need underwear for the next six weeks. Unless I ask you to wear it. Go on, then.’ He waved the spatula at me. I could imagine that being quite a useful spanking implement.

When I came back down, he beckoned me over to the counter, where he was buttering toast. With his other hand, he felt my breasts through the thin cotton top, rubbing at my nipples until they stood out through the fabric, bullet-hard and unmistakable. When that was done to his satisfaction, he lifted my skirt and checked for the presence of knickers. Finding none, he rewarded me with a luscious, filthy, grope-filled snog.

‘Sit down,’ he said, sliding eggs on to the toast before sorting out more coffee. ‘But you have to raise your skirt. I want your bare bottom touching the seat. And you can lift up your top too. And keep your legs wide apart.’

Sitting like that, with my top bunched over the top of my breasts and my thighs split while the varnished wooden seat chilled my bare bum, I couldn’t escape the reality of my submission. It was profound and absolute, and it was going to touch every aspect of my daily life.

Jasper watched me, smiling slyly, as he dug into his breakfast. I could barely touch mine, my appetite killed by the overwhelming presence of sex in the air around me, touching my skin, feeding itself into me.

‘Eat up,’ he said, pointing at my plate with his knife. ‘You need it, girl. I’ve plans for you.’

It was an order. I had to obey.

I made a decent attempt at eating my eggs, but the toast stuck in my throat. The coffee didn’t help, so strong it gave me jitters. I spilled a drop and it landed on my nipple, making me gasp and almost make a sound. But I managed not to.

Jasper tutted and dabbed my nipple with some kitchen roll, for much longer than was strictly necessary. Then he kissed it better.

Dropping down between my knees, he had a good long look at my widespread pussy, prodding at it until I winced.

‘That’s a well-fucked pussy,’ he diagnosed. ‘Swollen and red, it is. I think we’ll have to take it a bit easy today. But there are lots of things we can do that don’t involve the old in-out. Aren’t there?’

He raised flashing eyes to me.

I bit my lip and made a gesture intended to convey the phrase, ‘You tell me.’

He smiled. ‘So much to learn.’

 

If you want to know what Sarah learns from – and teaches – Jasper, here’s some more information.

Justine Elyot His House of SubmissionHe’s a collector with some kinky interests on the side. She’s here to catalogue his possessions. But will she end up being one of them?

Sarah turns up at Jasper Jay’s country house thinking she has been hired to make an inventory of his large collection of historical artefacts. But when she and her lover, Will, are caught by the boss sneaking a peek at some of his more private pieces, she starts to suspect an ulterior motive. Alone with Jasper Jay in his secluded manor, Sarah finds herself enthralled by the enigmatic collector, especially given the intimate interest she shares with him. Pretty soon, they’re entangled in an intense relationship of domination and submission that excludes the rest of the world. Until it intrudes, in the form of a vengeful Will, bent on exposing everything his erstwhile boss has worked so hard to keep secret.

It’s available right now in all the best e-formats from Mischief Books: http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/his-house-submission/

Thanks to KD for having me again! And thanks to everyone for reading.

More Smut from Felthouse and Blisse!

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Smut in the CitySmut in the City, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Sultry, smouldering sex in the city is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the stifling heat of the London Underground to the crumbling walls of Rome’s Colosseum, Smut in the City has it all. Whatever your interpretation of sultry urban sex, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Lusty couples, horny office workers, hunky bakers and gardeners, tourists and the Mafia are portrayed for your titillation in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

eBook:

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

Print:

Amazon UK
Amazon US

Excerpt:

Within the Crumbling Walls

By Lucy Felthouse

Exiting the Colosseo Metro station, Libby shot a grin at her boyfriend, Ciaran. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding it, do you?”

“Hmm?” Ciaran frowned, then turned his gaze in the direction that Libby was pointing. He gave a sheepish smile. “No, I don’t think we will. Shall we put the map away?”

Libby nodded, and Ciaran spun round so she should take the map and load it into his backpack. Zipping it back up, she patted it twice to signal she was done. Ciaran turned and held out his hand. She took it, and together they took their lives in their hands crossing the busy Roman road and walked to the Colosseum.

Despite the early hour, the queue was already considerable, and the couple exchanged a wry look. But then Libby remembered something. “Hey, don’t look so glum babe. We can skip the queue, remember?”

Ciaran frowned. “We can?”

Pulling a small credit card shaped and sized item from her pocket, she replied, “Yes! Our Roma cards mean we can get in quicker. That was one of the selling points the rep kept going on about when she was trying to flog them to us.”

Ciaran slapped his forehead theatrically, then retrieved his own card from his pocket. “Of course!” He used his not inconsiderable height to peer over the heads of the group in front of him. “Okay, I see it. There’s a separate line for Roma Pass holders, and it’s moving tons quicker. Hurrah!”

He made his way through the crowd, using a combination of touches on people’s backs and the words “excuse me.” Libby followed quickly in his wake. Soon they were at the back of the very short and swiftly-moving queue. People passed through, showing their cards to a very stern-looking Italian man, who nodded and pointed them towards another line.

This time they scanned their cards through some kind of barcode reader, and finally, they were in. Within the crumbling walls of the ancient Colosseum, probably the most famous landmark in Rome. Looking around, Libby could see why.

Photos and videos didn’t do it justice. She wasn’t sure if Colosseum translated to colossal or not, but it was certainly the most apt word to describe the place. It really was huge—and they hadn’t even seen the best part yet. Following Ciaran from the ticket booth area—which was literally within the great walls—they passed out into the open area in the middle. Libby gasped. It was amazing.

They were at ground level, with two or three levels above—she wasn’t sure which—and of course, the one below. Where the gladiators, warriors and fierce creatures would have been kept before being forced to fight in the arena.

Realising Ciaran was gaping at the sight before them too, she encouraged him forward. “Come on, we’re kind of in the way here.” Looking left, she saw an area which was fenced off and held warning signs urging the public not to enter. Libby snorted. The whole place was falling to pieces, how could they possibly deem one section more dangerous than another?

Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the right and saw an area which would allow them a better view of the arena floor. She grabbed Ciaran’s hand and pulled him with her.

Leaning on a barrier and looking out, Libby saw that arena “floor” was not an accurate description. At one end of the enormous structure, a wooden base had been erected, but the rest of the oval was open, displaying what lay beneath. It looked like a labyrinth, and suddenly she became aware of an English-speaking tour guide telling his group the history of the place. She eavesdropped for a while, then fell to thinking how lucky she was to have been born in this day and age. She’d never know anyone who’d be thrown to their deaths in such a place—or be forced to watch them killed in such a brutal manner.

*****

Lucy Felthouse: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk

Victoria Blisse: http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

Velvet Tongue Erotic Literary Soiree Pre-Halloween Fun and Filth

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I’ve been crowing for the past two months about how excited I am to be a guest at award winning poet, Ernesto Sarezle’s fabulous Velvet Tongue Erotic Literary Soiree coming up on the 29th of October at Bar Kick in Shoreditch. AND just in time for the release of novel two of my Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Riding the Ether, a paranormal erotic romp with ghosts and witches, sex magic and demons. I’ll be offering up a few naughty, maybe even scary tidbits.
Ernesto, more widely known as the Naked Poet, was kind enough to share a little bit with me about how the Velvet Tongue Erotic Literary Soiree came to be.
“Velvet Tongue started in February 2011. After many years considering the possibility of hosting an erotic literary event in London, I finally went for it when I was offered a fantastic venue, a sexy little gallery in Bethnal Green (Ten Gales) which, with its smart art deco style, adorned with lots of red drapery, proved to be the perfect setup for such an event. Sadly the gallery closed down and the second edition of VT had to be hosted in a new venue, where Velvet Tongue is still hosted. Luckily this new venue is also very special: the Bar Kick, a trendy sports bar in Shoreditch which, unbeknown to many of its punters, hides a charming little performance space in its dark basement.
For many years, I had been thinking that there was a niche for this kind of soirée. I was not aware of any other event like this in London (apart from an “erotic reading group” that gathers monthly to discuss erotic books) and I felt – rightly as it turns out – that there was a demand for it. Also, I had had experience organizing queer poetry nights (Glam Slam and – in the distant past – Homophone) which I quite enjoyed. But I wanted to try out something a bit more “polysexual” and more varied, including not only performance poetry but also other literary forms and performance approaches. Among events that have inspired me I can mention poetry open mic nights and literary salons in London. But VT is closer to an event called Perverts Put Out in which I once participated in San Francisco. The event, which normally coincides with the Folsom Street Fair in September, gives voice to alternative sexualities and lifestyles (so prominent in the Californian city).
What to expect at Velvet Tongue: If you are there as a member of the audience, the opportunity to hear the stimulating and diverse voices of people from all walks of life dealing with intimate aspects of their sexuality.  If you are a writer or performer, the opportunity to present your own erotically-themed material at one of the open mic slots (if there are any available; booking in advance by email is recommended) in front of an appreciative audience. To ensure quality literary standards I always invite three or more guest performers whose work I am familiar with and thus I know are going to deliver something exciting and worth listening to.
In the past two editions, there has been a good deal of flesh exposure, including full frontal, both male and female. But potential contributors should not be scared; rather, they should be excited and expectant at the prospect of performing in front of a warm, open minded and enthusiastic audience.”
Thank you, Ernesto!
I’m way too shy to get my kit off, but I’m not too shy to read about people who aren’t, and to read about all the fun they get up to once they do get their kit off. If you’re in London on Monday evening, the 29th, be sure to join the fun.
Hosted by Erotic Award winning poet, Ernesto Sarezale.This autumn, our featured writers are:

– K. D. Grace (novelist)
– S. P. Howarth (poet)with special appearances by:
Rubyyy Jones (burlesque artist)
& Itzi Urrutia (performance artist)Plus the usual open mic slotsand other surprises still to be confirmed.To get one of the (5 mins) open mic slots: email Ernesto (ernesto [at] sarezale.com).

Velvet Tongue
127 Shoreditch High Street, London. E1 6JE
(Old St/Liverpool St tubes)
7pm-10:30pm, £3

A Kiss in the Dark Can Lead to Hot Sex, Magic and Free Goodies!

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When I was a kid it was always a contest to see who would have the most goodies in the Trick-or-Treat bag for Halloween. Well Blisse Kiss After Dark will guarantee full goodie bags for anyone who likes their treats on the spicy, extra naughty side. Victoria Blisse and Kevin Mitnik are forever coming up with fabulous ways to share great erotica and help us all celebrate sex. And how could they resist paranormal erotic fun for the season. Halloween is nearly upon us and who wouldn’t want a steamy kiss in the dark and all the goodies that could lead to.

I’m all about goodies and kisses and since I’m launching book two of my paranormal erotic Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, Riding the Ether, I’m celebrating by giving away free downloads of the first novel, Body Temperature and Rising, on Amazon and in iTunes. Hot ghosts and witches, demons and sex magic all yours for the downloading. That’s a great start for filling anyone’s goodie bag with nasty steamy paranormal fun.

And since we’re talking magic and paranormal fun, I’m going to add that extra bit of yumminess by giving away an eBook copy of my magical, voyeuristic romp in the veg patch, Allotted Views. Comment for a chance to win.

Here’s a hot kiss in a dark cave excerpt from Body Temperature and Rising to start my naughty Kiss in the Dark celebration. Don’t forget, this full-length novel is now free to download on Amazon Kindle and iTunes. Links are below.  All my way of celebrating the launch of book two, Riding the Ether, now available on Kindle and soon to be in print. Enjoy! Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain!

Blurb for Body Temperature and Rising:

American transplant to the Lake District, MARIE WARREN, didn’t know she could unleash demons and enflesh ghosts until a voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with the charming ghost, ANDERSON, and night visits from a demon. To help her cope with her embarrassing and dangerous new abilities, Anderson brings her to the ELEMENTALS, a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that temporarily allows needy ghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and will stop at nothing to destroy all she holds dear. Marie and her landlord, the reluctant young farmer, TIM MERIWETHER, are at the top of his list. Marie and Tim must learn to wield coven magic and the numinous power of their lust to stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and more innocent people die.

Excerpt:

‘I lost my compass,’ she said.

‘I’m very sorry to hear that,’ he replied.

Almost before she knew it they were descending. ‘Not to worry,’ he spoke close to Marie’s ear. ‘I am as familiar with these fells as I am my own face. Once we are safely down to Grange, Tara will be waiting for us.’

He made no attempt to explain who Tara was, nor did he introduce himself. That was her first clue that he might have been aware of her voyeuristic escapade.

‘We shall be down very quickly,’ he added, turning his face into the storm.

But they weren’t.

The weather worsened to a downpour. Bent double in the wind, Marie was soaked to the skin and shivering by the time Anderson pulled her into a cave that she hadn’t even seen until they were safe inside. He took her just deep enough to be out of the weather, but not beyond the reach of daylight.

‘We shall wait out the storm here.’ He offered her a smile and gestured around the cave, which she could now see was a disused quarry. ‘There are lots of caves and quarries around the Lake District,’ He said. ‘Some are fenced off for the protection of curious tourists, and others, such as this one are unknown to but a few.’

‘And your girl friend, won’t she be worried?’

The tolerant smile he offered made her aware of her mistake. ‘Tara knows what I would do in such weather.’ Then he added, ‘Though she is very dear to me, Tara is not my girlfriend.’

Before she could say anything he chuckled softly. ‘I know that you saw us together, and there’s no need to apologize. Neither of us was upset that you enjoyed our love making. In fact we rather hoped it would please you. Besides one must certainly expect such encounters when one chooses the middle of a well-travelled path for a rendezvous. Now remove your shirt for me, please.’

When she balked, he added. ‘You’re cold and wet. I only wish to make you more comfortable and prevent you catching your death.’ He had already shed his jacket and handed it to her. She was astonished to find it completely dry. ‘You may wear this.’

When she made no effort to put it on, he sighed and scooted closer to her. ‘Please, we must get you dry and warm.’ He unzipped her anorak and pushed it off her shoulders, then tugged the hem of her shirt out of her trousers. His hands were unbelievably warm grazing her bare skin. She lifted her arms, and he slid the wet shirt off over her head, then he reached behind her to unhook her bra while his other hand deftly dispatched with the buttons of his black shirt. ‘Now please, put this on.’ He slid the jacket around her shoulders like a blanket, shoved his shirt open and pulled her against him.

She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed such a natural thing to slide her arms around him, beneath his shirt, which was as dry as the jacket. As she settled in close, his chest expanded against her bare breasts, and his breath hitched.

‘You are freezing. I think you very much need my body heat.’

‘And you seem to have lots of it to offer,’ she spoke between chattering teeth, suddenly very aware of the gouge of her tightly puckered nipples against his warm chest.

He laughed softly, and she felt the deep low rumble of it clear through her centre. ‘My dear, you’re welcome to as much heat as I’m able to generate.’

The urge was overpowering. She rose on her haunches and kissed him. Out of the clear blue, she just lifted her mouth to his as though it were hers to take, as though she owned it. And he responded in complete acceptance to her possession, warm lips yielding, encouraging, inviting, making room for the flick of her tongue, welcoming her with the flick of his own.

‘You taste of her,’ she whispered when she came up for breath.

He cupped her face in a large hand and ran a callused thumb over her bottom lip. ‘But her taste pleases you, does it not?’

She nodded. ‘I can see why it pleased you so much.’ She was suddenly, painfully aware of her brazenness. What the hell was the matter with her behaving this way with a man who was, for all practical purposes, a total stranger?

She was about to apologize when he pulled her hand to his lips and suckled her fingers, the ones that had been in her panties not all that long ago. He held her in a gaze deeper than the quarry that now protected them. ‘Your taste also pleases me. Even more so than I imagined.

The thought made her snatch tense with delight. ‘You imagined my taste?’

‘Of course I did, but experiencing the aftertaste of someone’s pleasure, though nice, is never as enjoyable as tasting for oneself.’

She had no time to do more than squirm at the heat of his comment before he pulled away to remove her boots and wet socks, lingering to chafe her cold feet between his hands, then he opened her trousers with amazing ease. She lifted her ass as he slid them off, along with her panties, then he settled her onto his lap. ‘Your bottom will not appreciate alighting upon a cold slab of slate,’ he said. He guided her to wrap her legs around his waist and arranged the tale of his shirt to cover them. Then he shifted to better balance himself and offered a soft sigh as his hands slid to her hips.

A quiver of a gasp escaped her throat as she found herself sitting spread and gaping against the erection his trousers clothed, but certainly couldn’t hide. The flash-fire burn below her belly flared again then hummed low and warm as though someone had adjusted the flame. At the sudden shock of it, she buried her face in his shoulder and clenched her teeth to keep from crying out with the startling friction of it

‘I believe my trousers will bear the imprint of your lovely womanhood when the weather clears and we leave this place. Do you mark me as your territory? I am honoured.’

His insinuation made her pussy even slicker, and she was sure he was right. She was making a sticky mess of the front of his trousers. She rubbed herself against him taking in the size of him beneath the soft black fabric, and he grunted hard and shuddered at her efforts. ‘Maybe you should take them off, save embarrassing stains and allow me a little more of that body heat you’re so generous with.’

He offered her a wicked smile. “My dear, my delicate bare bottom is no more fond of sitting on cold slate than yours is, but perhaps we can find an acceptable compromise.’ He ran a hand between them, jostling her slightly in his efforts to open his fly, releasing his cock and heavy balls. The whimper that escaped her lips was involuntary as she pressed upward to renegotiate for space.

He held her gaze. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?

‘Don’t you?’ She raked herself against him once more, and he shuddered

‘I do. Very much.’

She was relieved. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. She didn’t know why that should be. Perhaps it had something to do with the burning ache at her centre that had awakened again and crawled over her sex, up the vertebrates of her spine like an eruption of rising sparks. She scrambled to reposition, her bare feet pressing onto the chilled slate until he lifted her bottom. She tugged at the length of him shifting her hips as his thumb brushed open her pussy lips. ‘Oh my dear, you are very ready, indeed,’ he breathed. ‘Such soft luscious wetness.’

Links for Free Download:

Amazo.co.uk

Amazon.com

iBooks

Remember to comment for the chance to win your free download of Allotted Views.