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Editor of Seducing the Myth, Lucy Felthouse, Wearer of Many Hats

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The fabulous anthology, Seducing the Myth, was my first opportunity to work with Lucy Felthouse, Editor. And what a pleasure it was! I am more familiar with Lucy Felthouse as fellow writer, PR person extraordinaire, and all around fab chick, so I decided today, I wanted to interview the Lucy Felthouse, Editor, and specifically, Lucy Felthouse, editor of Seducing the Myth. Welcome Lucy!

K D: Author or editor? Which do you enjoy the most and why?

Lucy: Oh wow, great question! Actually, it’s one I’m not entirely sure I can answer. I love writing because I love storytelling and producing stories that other people (hopefully) enjoy reading. But then I enjoy putting anthologies together because I love to see how authors come up with so many varying ideas within a theme. I also like to put together the most diverse book I can and get it out there for others to enjoy.

I think being an author just tips the balance, though, because there are parts of editing I don’t like, for example turning down stories, figuring out royalties and all kinds of admin stuff!

K D: Lucy, you write erotica, you do marketing and PR for other people, you build websites, you edit anthologies *catches breath* For a woman with so many irons in so many fires, is there a satisfaction you get from editing that you don’t get while wearing any of your other hats?

Lucy: What I like about editing is being involved in the project from start to finish, and creating something I can be proud of, but also still slightly removed from. I feel slightly more distanced from anthologies I’ve edited rather than stories I’ve written because the anthologies aren’t just my work. They contain stories from lots of other, very fabulous authors, and for that reason I can crow about the books without sounding too much like I’m blowing my own trumpet. I think! 😉

K D: The two anthologies you’ve edited couldn’t be more different. Uniform Behaviour is erotica for those who get hot under the epaulettes for folks in uniform and Seducing the Myth is a collection of erotic stories based on myths from around the world. Did you find that any of those differences translated into the editing? Was one harder than the other to edit? If so why?

Lucy: In terms of process, the anthologies weren’t at all different to edit. The key thing for me was having variety in both anthologies, which I believe I’ve achieved. However, I’d say that Seducing the Myth was easier to put together, purely because I’d done it once before and had already worked out the best way to do things. But then, with Seducing the Myth, I did have to figure out how to put the book onto Createspace as a paperback; something I didn’t have the option to do with Uniform Behaviour. So that part was new, and challenging, but it was all worth it in the end!

K D: What did you find most difficult about putting together and editing Seducing the Myth?

Lucy: It was difficult to put the stories in order within the book, because although the book contains a nice variety of stories from all over the world, some do come from the same beliefs and mythologies. So I tried to arrange the book so there weren’t too many stories together that were from similar eras/places. Other than that, I would say the process I had to go through to get the paperback made available was a challenge, but since I’ve done it once I know how to do it again!

K D: Seducing the Myth contains a wonderful mix of stories based on myths from all over the world, but one of the most intriguing is yours, which is based on a little-known local myth. I find that choice fascinating. Could you talk a bit about your choice?

Lucy: People that know me know that I have a great love of the outdoors, and in particular I adore spending time in the Peak District. I’m very lucky in that to get to its borders, I don’t have to travel very far. I’m also interested in history, particularly of places that I know. Therefore I have lots of books about the history, myths and legends of the Peak District. I’ve read them all many a time, and one legend that’s always stood out for me is the one of there being mermaids in pools in the Peak District. The reason being is it’s barmy. The Peak District could hardly be more central in the country, it is completely and utterly land-locked, so I’m not sure how the sea-creatures are meant to have got there! But still, the legend exists, one of them even having a pool nicknamed the Mermaid Pool, and a nearby pub (sadly now converted into holiday cottages) called The Mermaid Inn.

The few mermaid legends vary slightly, but I chose this particular one because of the name of the pool and the pub – someone somewhere was obviously very determined that the legend was true! Also, I’ve been to the place several times and have always found it a very eerie and fascinating, yet beautiful place. When the idea for the anthology came about, it seemed like the obvious choice. I knew it’d be incredibly unlikely that anyone would write a similar story. Plus my passion for the area made me really want to tell a story about it. And, of course, it was a good excuse to go there again!

K D: It absolutely has to be asked. Are there any plans for future Lucy Felthouse-edited anthologies? If so, do we dare ask what you have in mind?

Lucy: Not right now. I think there will definitely be another anthology, possibly next year, but I’m not thinking about it at the moment. There are so many other projects I want to work on, including a couple of novels, that I just don’t have the time right now to take something else on, and when I do, I want to be able to dedicate plenty of my time to it. I do quite fancy doing a supernatural anthology, so that may well be on the cards. But as I say, I’m not thinking about it yet, so who knows?

Blurb:

Seducing the Myth: Myths and Legends with an Erotic Twist is a collection of 24 tantalising tales that lead you on a decadent journey through mythologies the world over. As well as stories from the popular Greek and Roman periods, this anthology will also delight you with Arabian, Arthurian, Hindu, Jewish, Norse, Slavic, Sumerian and Welsh myths and legends. Add in a delicious sprinkling of fairies, mermaids and ancient fertility rituals and you have a recipe for a wickedly erotic read!

More information and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/seducing-the-myth-myths-and-legends-with-an-erotic-twist

Excerpt:

When I first heard the silly talk, I didn’t take much notice. After all, the witterings of the drunken old men in the Greyhound Inn are hardly life-changing. They usually spouted tales of their childhood and ‘the good old days’, most of which were completely fabricated. But as I sat in the corner reading, I couldn’t help but notice that their conversation lingered on the same topic for some time. I found myself drawn in. Keeping my eyes on my book, I listened.

They were discussing a place up on the moors, a pool that was reputed to be haunted. Legend told of a malevolent mermaid lurking in its depths, and several mysterious disappearances in the vicinity. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The thought of a mermaid in Staffordshire really tickled me. It’s a landlocked county – in fact, you can hardly get any more central.

Normally I would have dismissed what they were saying out of hand, but although the legend was undoubtedly ancient, the disappearances were recent. My reporter’s instinct kicked in and I slammed my book down on the table, startling the trio of pensioners. Whipping a notebook and pen out of my bag, I stood and moved over to their table.

One round of drinks later and I had everything I needed. This was going to be one hell of an article.

*****

By the time I parked my car in the lay-by near the pool some two weeks later, I’d done my research. The gentlemen in the pub had given me their version of the legend, the information they had about the recent disappearances, and the rough location. A study of my White Peak Ordnance Survey map revealed the exact location and correct name of the mysterious body of water – Blake Mere. A library visit, a raid of my own bookshelves and some Googling turned up several different versions of the legend, none of which I could confirm as true or false. I decided to visit Blake Mere and make my own mind up.

As I made my way along the path skirting the small ridge above the pond, I looked down. At once I understood at least why people found the area creepy, if not how the mermaid legend had come about.

It didn’t help that I’d chosen a mid-week evening to visit; the darkening sky and lack of people did nothing to dissipate the eerie atmosphere. And nor did the silence.

Part of me was glad no one was around. Some of my more unusual journalistic investigations had, in the past, caused people to come and ask what I was doing. My responses, as I never saw any reason to lie, inevitably prompted a barrage of further questions. This meant I then had to find a way of extricating myself from the conversation so I could get on with my work. Not being the most forceful of fellows, I always find it difficult.

At least this time I’d be left well alone.

The path forked, the left turning being the one which would lead me down by the water. I took it. The closer I drew to the mere, the more another part of me wished I wasn’t alone. The quiet was uncanny, as was the absence of any wildlife. You’d normally expect to find midges, dragonflies, and the birds that ate them around most bodies of water. There was nothing, which was strange enough. Stranger still was that despite its exposed location and the slight breeze in the air, the pool’s surface remained undisturbed. I wish I could have said the same for my state of mind.

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, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

Peter Birch Talks Inspiration and Seasonal Sex

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I had the pleasure of meeting Peter Birch at Erotica this year. The fellow walker and man of many pseudonyms was dressed like Father Christmas and spreading good cheer, seasonal and otherwise.  I’m delighted that he’s decided to stop by my site on his blog tour promoting the fabulous Pete and Sarah’s Guide to Seasonal Sex. Welcome Peter!

I feel rather good after reading KD’s blog introduction. Now I know I’m not the only person who wanders the English countryside with a glazed expression while thinking out the details of erotic novels. To me, it’s simply the best way to get ideas, create suitably tangled plots, let characters take on some depth, anything really. All ten books of my Truscott Saga (written as Aishling Morgan, just to avoid confusion) have benefited from long walks on Dartmoor, often to the places where the action is set, while whenever my mind jams up a simple walk to the local park is almost guaranteed to clear the cogs. Walking allows me to think in a way that’s impossible when sat in front of a computer.

An exception is when it comes to the juicy details, as I try to draw as much of the actual erotic content of my books from real experience as I possibly can, either my own, or when that’s not practical, that of friends. That applies to all three of my pieces in the winter edition of Pete and Sarah’s Guide. I really do dress up as Santa Claus for fetish parties, and believe me, the effect is magical, while I’ve been giving and receiving spankings since my teens. Even the entirely imaginary erotic indulgences in my story, A Winter Feast, are drawn from reality, although highly polished.

No doubt some will disagree, perhaps arguing that I’m placing limits on my imagination, but I see experience as a tool to be used in my craft when needed and set aside when not needed. Obviously the scenes with the octopus god in Deep Blue never actually happened, but even then the physical sensations come from real, and fairly unusual, experience. That’s been gathered across years, and it was the experience that I put into my pieces for Fetish Times back in the mid-nineties that led to me being invited to try out a novel for Nexus, Virgin’s now sadly defunct erotica imprint.

My other source of inspiration comes from reading. I’ve always loved erotica and devoured the good the bad and the downright awful from an early age, usually with appreciation but also with a critical eye, and that has had an inevitable influence on my own work, but it’s very much in the background. My style, my plotting, my structure and all the other things that go to make a worthwhile erotic novel more than just a string of loosely connected sex scenes all come from mainstream authors, or those working in other genres, and not just the obvious greats. Saki, Wodehouse, Jack Vance, have all allowed me to learn a great deal, to the extent that I would argue that in order to write, you first need to read, and read widely.

So that’s my formula, lots of naughtiness in brightly lit bedrooms and disreputable clubs, mixed with hours spent buried in books and taking long country walks. I recommend it to you.

Blurbs:

Pete and Sarah’s Guide To Seasonal Sex – your one stop shop for everything you want to know about seasonal adult activities. Packed with interviews from internationally renowned performers such as Dita Von Teese and Buck Angel, as well as winter themed erotic stories, and seasonal adult articles!

This is THE guide you need to read, whether you are a girl, a boy, or both! Written by former Forum magazine editor Sarah Berry, and world renowned erotic writer Peter Birch, with editing by erotic author Nicky Raven, this new quarterly seasonal adult guide is sure to enlighten, amaze and entertain you through the dark winter months.

Formatted and digitally published globally by erotica book imprint House Of Erotica

Buy links
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
iTunes

Bio:

Peter Birch has been hopelessly addicted to sex his entire life but has made the best of what society at large sees as a problem. During the ‘eighties, while yuppies were sporting their filofaxes and falking into mobile phones the size of bricks, Peter and his girlfriend were experimenting with the joys of threesomes, dogging and spanking. In the caring ‘nineties he and his wife devoted their time to running sadomasochistic cabarets in London’s more specialised clubs. Finally realising that he needed to earn some money, he took to writing erotica, and has been at it ever since, becoming a prolific novelist, mainly under the Aishling Morgan name, writing guides to kinky sex and dabbling in journalism, which is where he met Sarah Berry.

 

Rebecca Bond Gets Personal About Inspiration

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It’s my pleasure to welcome a woman I consider very much a rising star in the world of erotica, one I am quite honoured to know well enough to call my friend. I’m talking about the fabulous Miss Rebecca Bond. Today Rebecca is going to talk about inspiration on a much more personal, much more intimate level before she gives us a steamy excerpt from her latest, Purest Possession. Welcome, Rebecca!

As I sat on my sofa, cosy and safe from the early autumnal winds that thrashed outside my window, I plugged in my headphones and pressed shuffle on my iTunes library. I am a dreamer. Always have been and always will be. Car, train, office, shop, coffee house, bed. . .it doesn’t matter where I am, I am always daydreaming. For me, music plays a prominent role in the formulation of such imaginings. My rock tunes (Steve Tyler, be still my beating heart) allow me to transport myself into a world of beating drums, scruffy Dave Grohl-alikes, and that raw passion for life. The love song allows me to embrace my inner sappiness for a few moments, living out my romantic Cinderella moments, the happily ever after in my mind. The ‘80s pop song has me reliving many a night of drunken debauchery a-la-university style with my fellow students as we danced ourselves silly at Flares or Reflex.

For me, music evokes memories and inspires dreams. So, whilst listening to the ipodular on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, randomly shuffling my way through the 2734 songs, I was completely thrown by a particularly intense reaction to one track that popped up.

Santus – Libera

The previous evening I had been catching up with a buddy (@ParvRoopray) and our conversation had turned to meditation, as it so often does. Due to upbringing, yoga and meditation have a strong place in Parv’s life, but I don’t care for it. I’m sure it’s all fab, but never have I felt the need to limber up, don a unitard, and pretend to be a tree with a group of strangers. Just not me. But, as she often points out, yoga is a complex art and one which is misunderstood (mainly by me) on so many levels. I do however, often feel as if I’m racing through life at a million miles an hour and asked her for advice regarding meditation. She told me not to force it, that it will happen when it needs to.

And happen it did. As I listened to the song I felt a calmness take over and only once the track had finished did I realise that for the entire 3 minutes 41 seconds I had thought about nothing but the orange leaves being blown from a large heavy oak atop a mount in the countryside. I had not set out to think anything of the like, but I enjoyed the daydream about nothing but a tree and its leaves nonetheless. I had mediated. Win!

So, turns out my buddy was right, I can mediate and perhaps need to practice it more often to enable me to maintain my sense of self. What’s fascinating to me is that, although Parv is Sikh and I’m Protestant, the power of meditation enables us both to reconnect with our respective faiths. For those three plus minutes I felt close to God, whom I have been turning my back on of late. It made me remember Rebecca, the eleven year old singing and dancing at church every week as my Dad played guitar in the church choir, Rebecca, the fifteen year old, at the evening service praying for guidance through some particularly turbulent years, and Rebecca, the 23 year old university student, sending silent prayers into the air to a Lord who I begged to help me battle the illness that had already been rife in my mind and body for eleven years. Bulimia.

Most importantly, it made me remember how through those years and the distress they held; my Lord never once turned his back on me. He kept me right there, nudging me forth through my fears when life became scary. So why is it that now, a grown woman, life stable, I have forgotten Him and all He does for me on a daily basis? Three minutes, 41 seconds of listening to a song and thinking about a tree shedding its leaves in the autumn wind has made me realise that although I lead a happy, healthy life, I cannot discount the power that my faith had in getting me to this point in time.

Today I am thankful. I am thankful for the four aspects within this blog post that intertwine with each other on a daily basis and enable me to indulge in everything great in life. I am thankful for the music that provides inspiration for my writing, I am thankful for my writing that acts as the therapy I need to keep the darkness from my mind, I am thankful for the friendships that allow me to be true to myself, encourage my passion to write and live life to the fullest. And finally, I am thankful for my Lord who has blessed my life with the aforementioned.

What are you thankful for?

If all that was a bit intense for you, go and get your filth on by reading some smut ;D

Blurb:

Celestine is an inexperienced peasant girl who, at twenty-two years of age, still knows nothing of life outside the small French town of Chamboise. For years, she has lived in fear of the inhabitants of Château de Délicieux, all too aware of the punishments that are administered at such an establishment.

When Celestine is summoned to the castle by the High Marquise, little does she know that she is about to embark on a journey of delicious discovery and commit the sweetest of sins. This Sapphic tale tells of the emotion one woman feels as she succumbs to a life of sexual possession at the hands of her mistress.

Purest Possession Extract:

As the guard pushed me through the gate and into the courtyard of the castle, the world began to spin, turned upside down in an instant. I rubbed at my eyes, blinking again and again to make sure what I saw really existed. Male servants tended women, scores and scores of women. I felt the rosy blush creep up my neck and settle in my cheeks as I looked on, never before seeing so much naked flesh. Everyone was naked save for a smattering of jewellery, a pearl earring here, and ruby necklace there.

The men wore tattoos, all identical in design and location—a black dagger pointing towards their hearts.

“It’s a symbol,” a voice behind me said, “a symbol that they are members of the Order Délicieux, servicemen to the Ladies of Chamboise.”

I was in a trance. The sight of women being worshipped in ways my mind couldn’t comprehend hypnotised my young eyes. Flesh was caressed, skin was kissed, nipples plucked, pussies fucked.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” the voice said again. A woman.

I felt a hand brush my long hair over my shoulder and begin to slip my rags from my body. I couldn’t protest, my body fixed to the floor, my mind muddled with confusion. I jumped as her fingers grazed against my mound and turned to look at the stranger.

“Yes, I do believe you think it beautiful.” She brought a finger to her lips, slick and glossy. “Your body certainly does.”

I looked at her, gazing at her lips as she sucked my juice from her slender finger. My skin prickled as I watched her tongue snake out to lap away the remaining residue. There I stood, twenty-two years of age, not a girl, not quite a woman.  I was completely devoid of experience. I didn’t know what it was like to be touched in the ways that happened to those all around me.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Why am I here?”

https://www.nobleromance.com/Books?author=194

Get involved with Rebecca here:

Twitter: @MissRebeccaBond

Facebook: www.facebook/MissRebeccaBond

Website: www.missrebeccabond.co.uk

Body Temperature and Rising, the Long Way Around

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Body Temperature and Rising, volume one of my Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, is now available in all ebook formats with most major distributors. It will be available in print in February. After a very strange, circuitous journey to completion, I’m very excited to be able to share my first ever paranormal erotic romance with the world.

Body Temperature and Rising didn’t start out to be a trilogy. In fact, it started out, three Novembers ago, as my first effort to write a novel in a month for National Novel Writing Month. (NaNoWriMo). During November, National Novel Writing Month, people everywhere of all ages from all walks of life attempt to write a novel in one month. For me, not only was it my first attempt to write a novel in a month, but it was my first ever attempt to write an erotic novel.

Considering the way it all began, Body Temperature and Rising could hardly have been anything BUT paranormal. My good friend Helen Callaghan and I decided to get the first day of our NaNoWriMo experience off to a good start by driving to Avebury to write at the pub there.

Avebury is a village set in the middle of the biggest Neolithic stone circle in Europe, a stone circle 500 years older than the Pyramids.

The Red Lion Inn. Taken on a much nicer, much less haunted day.

Because the stones are much easier than Stonehenge to access, and there is no charge, Avebury has become a gathering place for modern Pagans and other New Age folks. And our timing was perfect, as it was the day after the old Celtic holiday of Samhain and even in spite of the torrential downpour that we arrived in, we found ourselves surrounded by druids, witches, wiccans and all manner of Pagans celebrating what is essentially Celtic New Year. The people watching was fabulous, even with the drowned-rat effect.

Never mind that, Helen and I were there to write, so after a scuppered attempt at an inspiring walk in the wind and rain, we settled in at the Red Lion Inn, right in the centre of the stone circle. This 16th Century pub proudly boasts the reputation of being ‘the most haunted pub in England.’

It didn’t take us long to get pulled into the writing, so after lunch we wrote our way through numerous coffees and pots of tea, watching the super-saturated Pagans come and go in the pouring rains. There was a fire in the fireplace, and we were both in the zone.

By late afternoon, sharing leftover Halloween candy across the table while the Muse whispered in our ears the pub was nearly. Suddenly there was an enormous banging sound, like doors slamming. It seemed to be coming from the hall that led to the restroom behind us. The space that had felt toasty warm all at once felt chilled, and we were both shivering. Seconds later, one of the wait staff came running back to the restrooms looking very panicked and very pale. From behind the bar to the kitchen we heard murmurs and nervous laughter. We overheard mentions of the ghost, followed by more murmurs and mentions of supernatural phenomena when the volunteer returned unscathed to join the rest of the staff cowering behind the bar. And then the room was warm again. Helen and I ate more sweets, ordered another pot of tea and discussed our near-brush with the supernatural. Then we kept writing.

One of the Avebury stones on a nice day.

It was only as dark settled and the rain hadn’t let up even a little bit that we remembered two things. We weren’t parked in the pub car park, but in the National Trust car park on the other side of the village, a car park that closed at dark.

We quickly gathered our belongings and made a run for it, trying to hold umbrellas to protect us from horizontal rain, and struggling to see our way on the tiny, unlit path back to the car park, illuminated only by the pale green light of Helen’s mobile phone. With boots full of water and a banged knee from the metal fence post I ran into, we finally arrived at the Car Park to find it deserted except for Helen’s car, and thankfully for the National Trust Land Rover parked by the gate with a lovely NT employee waiting patiently to let us out.

Oh, and that intsy-weentsy little second thing we’d forgotten about… We’d been so busy talking on the way over to Avebury that we’d forgotten to get petrol for the car, and we were running on fumes. Avebury has a pub, several tourist shops and a post office. No garage. The next town of any size up the deserted highway was Marlborough. Everyone with any common sense was long since inside out of the horrid weather. It felt like we were the only people on the planet. We were only fifteen miles from Marlborough, but we weren’t sure we were even going to get to when we realized the Kennet River, which usually runs under the road was now running OVER the road. Thinking only of the fumes quickly dissipating in the petrol tank, we ploughed through the raging waters of the Kennet and continued on our way, a thought which still gives me a chill when I think what might have happened crossing a flooded river as we did. But only a few miles up the road, looking like the gates to paradise was a small Murco station. And it was open! We were saved! Thus began Lakeland Heatwave: Body Temperature and Rising, which at that time was called ‘Love Spell.’

During the month that I wrote BTR, a time when I already had a very full writing plate on top of the novel-in-a-month plan, the paranormal experience continued as I was magically transformed into The Bitch

Research is hard work

from Hell, a creature so unpredictable, so terrifying, so vile that only my husband, Raymond the Brave, could successfully handle being in her presence for long periods of time. The man has permanent psychological scars from that infamous November, I have no doubt.

In the meantime, I got trapped in the Eurostar Tunnel and The Initiation of Ms Holly was born, followed by The Pet Shop while BTR languished tucked away in my computer as a Word file. I just wasn’t confident enough to attempt anything paranormal. Then, maybe it was the influence of the Avebury Ghost, but I decided to propose Body Temperature and Rising to Xcite, knowing that it would need a lot of reworking because I had grown a lot as a writer. Once Xcite accepted my proposal, I found myself totally unable to continue with the rewrite. Every attempt felt like a false start, every effort felt like it wasn’t right somehow.

Just when I was about to lose heart, I took a long walk and realized that if it were going work as I envisioned it, Lakeland Heatwave would have to be a trilogy. Xcite went for the proposal and from that point on, the ghosts and witches practically wrote the story for me.

Of course with the action set in the Lake District and the first chapters set in a bad storm on the fells and in a slate mine shaft, I was forced to make several research trips to the Lakes. How I suffer for my art! I have no doubt I’ll need to do much such suffering as the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy unfolds.

Body Temperature and Rising will be available in print in February 2012, and as is the happy tradition, will be celebrated with wild partying and raunchy reading at Sh! Hoxton.

Blurb:

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 allowsghosts 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.

Dale Head. The sight Marie would have seen without the mist.

Excerpt:

‘First you treat me like I don’t exist, then you go all big brother on me like I’m too delicate and soft-brained to take care of myself. Well I have news for you, Tim Meriwether, I was taking care of myself for a long time before you decided I needed looking after.’ She shoved again, and this time he grabbed her with such force that she felt the bones in her neck pop.

With her forward momentum, he stumbled over an uneven paving stone, lost his footing and went over backward into a manger full of fresh hay, pulling her on top of him.

Before she could shove and claw her way to her feet, He grabbed her around the waist and rolled, pinning her beneath the weight of his body. He gave her no time to think about it, but pulled her into a bruising kiss, forcing her lips apart, probing her hard pallet with his dexterous tongue, biting her lower lip before he came up fighting for the breath to speak. ‘I think about you a lot, Marie,’ His chest rose and fell in hungry gasps. ‘But I promise you, none of those thoughts were even remotely brotherly.’

She bucked underneath him and clawed at his shirt. ‘Then do something about it, damn it, and stop toying with me.’ Several buttons popped and flew across the stable floor. He forced her legs apart with his knee, moving it up to rub against the crotch of her jeans. She shoved his shirt open and arched up to him as he pushed her t-shirt up and manoeuvred and tugged, forcing her breasts free from her bra into his spayed hands and hungry lips.

She fumbles with the fly of his jeans, sliding an anxious hand into his boxers. He huffed a breathless grunt, and the muscles low in his stomach tense as she closed her fingers around his engorged penis and began to stroke.

He had just began the anxious efforts with her own fly when suddenly the stable door slammed shut, and the light bulb overhead exploded in a shower of fine glass plunging the two into total darkness.

Marie yelped, and Tim cursed. As they fought their way to their feet, the mare screamed, and they could hear her struggling.

Tim vaulted over the manger’s edge seconds before Marie, calling back to her. ‘Get the door. Get it open.’

Struggling to secure her jeans with one hand, Marie felt her way along the perimeter of the stable toward the door. The relief was short-lived when her fingers closed around the handle, and it wouldn’t budge.

‘It’s locked,’ she shouted above the desperate cries of the mare.

‘What do you mean, it’s locked,’ Tim shouted back. ‘It doesn’t have a lock. It’ can’t be locked.’

‘I’m telling you it won’t open,’ she yelled back, feeling an icy chill blasting her from behind. With one final tug, the door gave and she tumbled backward on her ass. The sharp knife edge of light that shot through the darkness was blinding, like a flashbulb going off, leaving a deep bruised after image dancing in front of her face, an after image of Deacon.

She cried out and crab walked backward, as he stepped toward her, unfurling his bullwhip, in what seemed like endless slow motion.

 

The Holidays with Hearts and Diamonds from Nichelle Gregory

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As the holiday season approaches, I’d like to welcome Nichelle Gregory to Hopeful Romantic with a teaser from her latest, Hearts and Diamonds, guaranteed to keep the season extra warm.

Ahhh! The holidays are right around the corner! It’s that time of year when diets go to hell and the drinks and desserts warm you from the inside out! If you can’t tell, I love this season! The decorations, the lights, the music…I adore it all. For me, the holidays are chance to really cherish and enjoy the people in your life that make your world brighter. Yes, we should do this every single day, but it’s easy to forget in the hustle and bustle of the daily grind.

I love spending time decorating my home with my kids, baking sweet treats and sipping pumpkin martinis with my husband when we’re finally alone for the night! These moments are pure magic and I look forward to each one every year.

Hearts & Diamonds, my latest contemporary erotic romance, takes place around the holidays and has plenty of magical moments and sizzling heat to spice up your holiday reading fare! I had a blast interweaving the festive, suspenseful and sexy elements in this tale!Here’s a sneak peek inside Hearts & Diamonds:

Blurb:

Passion sparks the moment Nia Sanders unknowingly meets federal agent Quin Rios.

Nia Sanders knows diamonds. She appreciates and envies the heart-felt emotions of her customers buying them. When federal agent, Quin Rios saves her life in the middle of a violent jewel heist, she finds herself attracted to the sensual possibilities beneath his uber professional, self-contained persona.

Determined to keep her safe as he solves the case, Quin can’t let his attraction to Nia distract him. The heat of their fiery passion consumes them as they both struggle to control their emotions…neither are prepared to lose their heart.

Excerpt:

“I knew you weren’t involved with this mess, the moment I looked into your eyes.”

He hadn’t moved any closer, but Nia felt as if he had touched her.

“Your eyes tell me everything I need to know.” This time he did step closer to her, his gaze riveted on hers. He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand and she closed her eyes.

Her body still thrummed with desire despite the shocking phone call from Tess. She wanted him to wrap his arms back around her and make her stop thinking about the diamonds and mounting fear.

“I should go.”

“No.” Her eyes snapped open and she grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to be here alone.” Wow, she really was going to play the damsel in distress card.

“You won’t be alone. There’s a squad car keeping tabs on your house.”

Nia lifted her chin and looked at him. “I want you to stay with me.” If he could read her eyes as well as he said, then her meaning was clear as crystal. She felt his hand tighten around hers and waited for him to refuse her request.

“Well, we haven’t finished dinner yet.” His lips curved in a teasing, slow smile Nia would’ve gladly given up all the diamonds in the world to see again.

“I’ll warm it up.”

“No need,” Quin said, settling back at the table.

No need, indeed. Her body was heating up on the inside as he dug into her food. She admired the slant of his nose as he talked and the motion of his strong jaw as he chewed. The cadence of his sexy voice, deepening with his subtle accent heightened her arousal like a fine wine. She could simply listen to him talk all day long. Didn’t matter what he talked ab—

“Nia?”

She blinked, heat flooding her cheeks. “What were you saying?”

He gave her the briefest of smiles. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“I asked you what you wanted Santa to bring you this Christmas.”

A tall, gorgeously bronzed, muscles-for-days, federal agent.
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Hearts & Diamonds is available now with Total E-Bound!

Buy Link:  http://www.total-e-bound.com/authordetail.asp?A_ID=147

Bio:

Nichelle Gregory has been in love with books and writing since middle school. A lover of the arts, she enjoys anything that embraces the creative nature within us all. Bringing believable characters to life that thrill and excite her readers is a challenge that continues to push Nichelle. She loves creating stories involving super sexy alpha heroes with divine heroines in magical, exotic, and fantastic scenarios. So, gone on . . . Indulge your senses with one of her simply sexy stories!

Visit her website www.simplysexystories.com and blog http://www.simplysexystories.blogspot.com