Category Archives: New Releases

Furious Temptation from Elsie Hepner

Here’s a sneak peek at the latest paranormal yumminess from Elsie Hepner, Furious Temptation. Enjoy! And when you’re done, leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Elsie’s novel, Furious Lust!

Hell's Fire - Flames, fire and sunsetBlurb for Furious Temptation:  

 

For millennia Megaera, a Fury, has functioned as Hades right hand by passing judgment on demons who break the sacred laws. Stalwart in her  moral compass, but harboring a curse triggered by rage, she walks a thin line between perfection and destruction. But when she digs into a case  uncovering a string of demon rapes, she incites a war with Mount Olympus that could ripple chaos throughout the ages.

Omen Cole was demon made during the Civil War after repeated torture at the hands of his enemies.  Sentenced to an eternity as watchdog over  his emotionally frail, once human ex-wife, he’s haunted that he couldn’t save her from a brutal assault.

Now it’s happened again. And Megaera needs his testimony. Omen will sell his body—and anything else—to avenge his fragile ex-wife. If that means  an alliance with Megaera, he’ll make it the most memorable of their eternity.

 Excerpt :

“Give me a chance, you won’t regret it. You want out of this situation as much as we do. It would be more than worth your trouble, I would guarantee that for you.” His fingers skipped across my collarbone until my fingers shook at my sides and I shoved them onto the edge of the bookcase behind me. I held onto the antique wood and pain twisted up my wrists. But he didn’t move back. His lips remained poised against my ear, our hair mingled, and his fingers danced on the only expanse of naked flesh on my body.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you know by now?”

I couldn’t see his eyes, but judging from his tone they were twinkling and bright with mischief. All the anger he’d been carrying, every stubborn action had been wiped away and replaced with misleading flirtation. And as much as I wanted to doubt him—he was good. Embarrassingly so. Omen’s every attention spanned into a gapping chasm of sex I’d all but put under lock and key. And then I swallowed that key. Yet his teasing voice, small bursts of air from his conversation, still licked across my skin in invisible caresses down my neck.

“Why don’t you tell me.”

If he was truly insinuating what I thought he was whispering in my ear under lock and key as my prisoner I wanted him to say the words. Because I couldn’t imagine he was desperate enough to make the proposition outright. While my fingers scrambled, I navigated the murkiness of my thoughts. If only he’d draw away. As if he meant to break me down bodily before making me take leave of my senses. With the knowledge of his manipulation came the tendrils of my anger that I’d been tamping down all day, trying to bank the embers. Suppression was a nasty business.

As sexy as he wanted this little meeting to be, I had a lovely secret weapon tucked in my pocketless skirt suit. My rage had never been my friend before, but if she would keep me from making a reckless mistake, right this second she was my BFF. Omen shifted as if he knew something between us had changed. Surely the atmosphere between us crackled with a different energy, one far more deadly than the reason I had wanted my hands wound around his neck.

“I’ll do anything you want, be anyone you want, if you give me this chance. Taking you into my bed would be far from a hardship. In fact, I’ll go farther. I can’t stop thinking about you beneath me. How well I’d love to treat your repressed little body so that my name echoes in your mind because you’ve been crying it out for so many hours. I’ll make this risk in the investigation merely a bump to get my attention, for as long as you’ll have me. And for both our sakes, I hope you keep me for a while. I don’t get bored easily.”

As his lies slid across my neck I did the first thing that came to mind. While he was lost in his seductive ploy, I lunged, wrapped my hand around his throat, and threw us both back onto the bed so I was straddling him, pinning both his hands above his head. For a beat I couldn’t recall whether or not my move was intentionally sexual or not—but here we were—and judging by his obnoxious smirk he had a fine idea.

But I only needed one hand to pin down his wrists, so I shifted in a blink and clasped my other hand around his throat, erasing his cocky expression, as if I’d drained the light from the room. His neutral expression held all the calculation of someone very, very careful. And though I’m sure he wished to, he didn’t move a muscle beneath me. Well, expect for the betrayal of his cock, which hardened between my thighs as my skirt rode up higher on my outer thighs and I tried my best to act as if I wasn’t enjoying our little moment together. I’d lose my high ground if I let the smallest moan slip. No matter how hard it was to ignore his pleasant pressure between my legs as his hard cock rubbed against my pussy.

I tried to remind myself I held all the cards when his gaze locked with mine. Neither of us spoke a word, waiting for my answer to his ludicrous proposition. He couldn’t be serious. Not when his charm and good looks got him in with my secretary as much as any other woman he’d seduced in his lifetime. I was one of many, of that I was certain. Even if he did look at me as if I was something special. And I’m sure he would have fought my silent accusations—if I’d given him room to speak.

“Even if for a second I didn’t see past your charade, Omen, I wouldn’t entertain the thought because it very clearly breaks several codes of ethics. But thanks, for the offer. I really, really appreciate it.”

With a look of smug wickedness I put emphasis into my words with every slow tilt of my hips against him as I held him immobile against his bed. His eyes flashed. Whether with anger or arousal I couldn’t care. Instead I slowly untangled us, tugged my skirt, and smoothed it with my hands. Omen lay on the bed as if I hadn’t gotten off of him. When he rubbed his neck with a few low noises in the back of his throat, I didn’t hold an ounce of guilt for my actions. Even if I still sensed him flush against my pussy.

“You still haven’t rejected my prior offer. Does that mean it’s off the table even without the incentive?”

“No. If it means making my job any easier I’ll allow you to see Claudette and follow your plan, but if it doesn’t work expect me to be beyond displeased. And you won’t enjoy me when I’m angry.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I can find many different ways to enjoy you.”

He half sat, leaning on his hands on the bed so I got a peek at his bare chest through the straining buttons of his button down which was rolled up at the sleeves. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t so gullible to fall for his act. No man had wooed me before now and none would unless a group orgy was involved. Granted, what Omen was offering was very one on one—but he only offered his body as a substitute for manipulation. By taking him to my bed I’d be belaying a weakness in my character.

3 d graphics fantasy landscape with magic treeAnd I had many flaws, but weakness wasn’t one of them.

I silently reminded myself of that as Omen straightened up entirely before wincing at the tent of his pants. I wish I could have felt sorry for him, but my mind was otherwise occupied with our more pressing problem. His erection would go away eventually and I would continue dodging his roguish comments so long as the investigation lasted. If he didn’t get sentenced for Claudette’s crime then the possibility of entertaining him in a less formal capacity in my bedroom slunk around in the back of my mind—but the likelihood of that was slim.

As if Omen read my mind he smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“How do we proceed?”

*****

Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win your copy of Furious Lust!

*****

Buy Furious Temptations Here:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Furious-Temptation-The-Furies-Series-ebook/dp/B00K017UPM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1398726549&sr=8-1&keywords=elise+hepner

About Elsie Hepner:

Elise Hepner lives with her husband and two eccentric cats in Maryland. She spends the majority of her free time in her basement office concocting smutty characters and sinful situations that leaves readers satisfied. When not writing, she researches everything from automatons in the 18th century to gladiatorial rules in Ancient Rome. She prides herself on being an avid information hound as well as a blog reading addict–which is her favorite way to procrastinate. Her previous publications include books and stories with Entangled, Excessica, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave, Secret Cravings Publishing and Cleis Press.

Author Links:

Website: www.elisehepner.com

Twitter: www.twitter.com/EHepner

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elise-Hepner-Writing/311925106401

 

Letters to a War Zone by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Letters to a War ZoneBlurb:

When lonely insurance broker, Bailey, gets himself a new hobby, he ends up exchanging letters with a war zone. But he’s not expecting what happens next…

Bailey Hodgkiss is lonely and dissatisfied with his boring life as an insurance broker. In an attempt to insert some variety, he signs up to a website to write to serving soldiers. He’s put in touch with Corporal Nick Rock, and over the course of a couple of letters, the two of them strike up a friendship. They begin to divulge their secrets, including their preference for men.

Nick encourages Bailey to add more interests to his life. As a result, Bailey picks up his forgotten hobby, photography, and quickly decides to team it up with his other preferred interest, travel.

Booking a holiday to Rome is his biggest gesture towards a more exciting existence, and he eagerly looks forward to the trip. That is, until Nick says he’s coming home on leave, and it looks as though their respective trips will prevent them from meeting in person. Is there enough of a spark between them to push them to meet, or will their relationship remain on paper only?

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/letters-to-a-war-zone/

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20722128-letters-to-a-war-zone

*****

Excerpt:

After clicking all the available links on the website to find out more about it, Bailey decided to go ahead and sign up. He’d never know what it was really like unless he gave it a go.

He’d read about the site in an article somewhere, about how it linked people with serving soldiers, pilots, marines and sailors in order to write to them. It had been proven that receiving mail—even from someone they didn’t know—improved military morale. It sounded like a damn good use of time to Bailey, and it would be interesting, too.

He began typing his details into the online form. Of course, the chances were that he’d be paired up with a man, given the ratio of males to females in the forces. It didn’t matter, though. He could still exchange letters with a guy, become friends. It seemed like such an old-school way to communicate with someone, given how technology had come on over the years, but at least it was different. Perhaps it would give him something in his life to look forward to, something other than getting up, showering, going to work, coming home, eating, watching television and going to bed. The watching television—and even the eating—were occasionally replaced by nights out with friends or seeing family. Weekends were spent cleaning, washing clothes, gardening and odd jobs. Dull stuff, in other words.

He had an utterly mundane life, and Bailey knew it. It wasn’t even as if his job was exciting. Insurance broking was hardly thrilling, game-changing, or going to save the world. He didn’t expect having a pen pal to change his entire life, but it would certainly break the monotony. Hopefully.

He went through the various steps to fill in his details and create a profile, then continued right through to the information on actually writing and sending the letters. It looked straightforward enough.

His mind made up, Bailey immediately went in search of a pen, some nice paper and an envelope. Armed with a print out of exactly what to do when the letter was finished, he settled down at the kitchen table. Instantly, his mind went blank. What the fuck was he meant to say? He didn’t know any soldiers or other military personnel, didn’t know anything about their lives, other than there was a great deal more to it than shooting people and being shot at. His own existence was so fucking boring that he didn’t want to write about it. Unless there were any insomniacs in Afghanistan—telling them about his day would solve that particular condition right away.

After chewing on his biro until it broke, covering his lips and chin with ink, Bailey replaced it, resolving to try harder. He’d tell his pen pal the bare essentials about himself, then ask lots of questions about them and their work. That was bound to rustle up some conversation.

That decided, he began to write, absentmindedly swiping at his inky skin with a tissue. He’d have to scrub it off when he was done with the note. His wrist and hand had begun to ache before he was halfway down the page. He rolled his eyes. He sat on his arse at a desk all day, using a computer. As a result, even writing something short by hand was hard work! There was no way he was going to divulge that particular piece of information to someone that was willing to lay down their life to protect their country.

He just about managed to fill a single side of the A5-sized paper. And that was only because he’d formed large letters and spaced his words and lines out plenty. But he tried not to worry—at least he’d finished it, his first letter to a war zone.

He read through it carefully, relieved to find no mistakes. He’d forgotten how much more difficult—and messy—errors were on the written page. Computers let you edit and rewrite to your heart’s content. No correction fluid or crossings-out necessary.

Finally, he addressed the envelope. It felt like the longest address ever. The area and country was bad enough, even without including the soldier’s name and BFPO address. But it was done—Bailey Hodgkiss had penned a missive to Corporal Nick Rock, currently stationed at Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan.

Now he’d just have to post it and wait for a reply. The website had said his missive would take between one and three weeks to reach Corporal Rock. Then he had to allow for time for him to read it and send a reply. It could be around six weeks before he heard anything. If he heard anything at all.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. 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

Laura Wilkinson Talks About Friends, Rivals, Tweeps and Twerps

Those who say online friendships don’t count/ aren’t real/are of less value than others, are – in my book – wrong.

Laura Wilkinson 7 Appublic battles draftI was quite late to Facebook; I joined in 2007,abandoning MySpace along with the droves, but for at least five years I had few friends and posted irregularly to say the least. I was even slower off the mark with Twitter, only joining because my first publisher suggested it. However, I took to Twitter like the proverbial duck and enjoyed hours of chatting and joking and information sharing with my new Besties. My family might have enjoyed this period a little less, but, hey, there are always winners and losers. As my love affair with Twitter grew in intensity, ironically, I fell in love with Facebook too. Like most of us, my love is not of a fixed capacity.

There were tweeps I spoke with more than others, and it wasn’t long before plans to meet face to face were hatched. I have become ‘real’ friends with over half a dozen people I met online and ‘real’ acquaintances with many, many more. Of course, geography has played its part. I’ve not hooked up with tweeps in Australia, the US or Croatia, though I do know those who when travelling have done this, and perhaps one day, I might too.

I consider myself lucky to have so many good, solid friends, real and virtual. Not everyone does. My lead in Public Battles, Private Wars, Mandy, has enemies as well as friends and she finds both in the most unexpected quarters.

Writers are a friendly bunch, supportive and kind, rarely competitive, and forums like Facebook and Twitter suit most of us very well indeed. I met the lovely KD on Twitter and I’ve met her in real life (just as lovely there). So, here’s what I say to those who say virtual friendships are shallow: Don’t be a Twerp, come join the party.

Public Battles, Private Wars is published by Accent Press on 27 March.

Yorkshire 1983

Miner’s wife Mandy is stuck in a rut. Her future looks set and she wants more. But Mandy can’t do anything other than bake and raise her four children. Husband Rob is a good looking drinker, content to spend his days in the small town where they live.

When a childhood friend – beautiful, clever Ruth – and her Falklands war hero husband, Dan, return to town, their homecoming is shrouded in mystery. Mandy looks to Ruth for inspiration, but Ruth isn’t all she appears.

Conflict with the Coal Board turns into war and the men come out on strike. The community and its way of life is threatened. Mandy abandons dreams of liberation from the kitchen sink and joins a support group. As the strike rumbles on relationships are pushed to the brink, and Mandy finds out who her true friends are.

Laura Wilkinson 7 ApMarch 2014 031Here are a few buy links:

http://www.accentpress.co.uk/Book/10497/Public-Battles-Private-Wars.html

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Public-Battles-Private-Laura-Wilkinson/dp/1783755164/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1393528368&sr=8-1&keywords=public+battles+private+wars

And there are SIX copies up for grabs in a giveaway over at Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21488069-public-battles-private-wars

You can find out more about Laura and the novel, including Book Group Questions, here: http://laura-wilkinson.co.uk

The Story So Far by Justine Elyot

Justine Elyot 4 Ap 2014by_his_commandIt’s so kind of K D to play hostess at her wonderful blog. I’m very glad to be here today to tell you about my new Mischief novella, By His Command.

This book is a sequel, so I thought it might be worthwhile to run through the events leading up to the story. Book one in the series is called His House of Submission and it introduces the characters of Jasper Jay and Sarah Wells and describes how they come together in a D/s relationship.

At the start of the novel, Sarah has recently finished her postgraduate studies in History, and she has taken on a summer stop-gap job cataloguing all the art and antique treasures in a secluded mansion house belonging to acclaimed film director, Jasper Jay. Jasper is away filming and her only other company is the groundsman, Will, with whom she embarks on a fling out of boredom and loneliness.

One night, Will takes her into Jasper’s bedroom and shows her his secret treasure chest…a chest full of BDSM paraphernalia. Here’s a taste of what happens next:

*****

 It contained things I had never seen in my life before, silicone things that were a little bit like dildoes but with an outward flare halfway along the length.

‘What the hell are these?’

Will snorted.

‘Don’t you know?’

‘I’ve never done anything kinky,’ I defended myself.

‘Butt plugs, my love,’ he said, picking one up.

‘Oh, don’t touch it!’

‘Why not?’

I shook my head. I knew I was panicking, but I couldn’t seem to rein myself in.

‘Fingerprints,’ I mumbled.

He burst out laughing at that, waving the butt plug in the air.

‘You’re funny,’ he said, between fresh gusts of mirth.

‘You’ll have to share the joke.’ A third voice spoke from the doorway.

I fell backwards on to my arse, my hand clamping my mouth so hard and fast I almost knocked a couple of teeth out.

I watched through wide-stretched eyes as everything seemed to crash into slo-mo. Will dropped the butt plug and raised himself to his feet, shoulders back, squared for combat.

The man in the door was, presumably, Jasper Jay, though he wasn’t the way I remembered him from that medical soap he used to be in when I was a girl. Of course, a lot of water had passed under the bridge since then – fifteen year’s worth. He wasn’t a fresh-faced bright-eyed youth in a white coat now. He stood with one arm braced against the door frame, in an expensive suit, its light biscuit colour accentuating his dark looks. He had that famous-person thing of looking somehow bigger and shinier and brighter than a real man. I hadn’t fancied him in the medical soap, or in the many news clips of him accepting the Palme d’Or, but now I could almost see the vortex of charisma inside which he existed.

But now wasn’t a good time to be ogling my boss.

Now was about the worst time ever for that kind of thing.

Well, poor old Will gets the push, but to her surprise Sarah is kept on. It soon turns out that she was hired on the strength of an article she wrote about Victorian sex toys. Jasper had an idea she might be the right person to look at his collection…

 

They soon fall into an intense affair, isolated from the rest of the world in a beautiful kinky bubble. But Will is still living nearby, and he’s intent on revenge. Here’s how Sarah finds out.

 

‘Jasper!’ I called, but answer came there none.

So there I was, hanging from a tree, dripping with semen, plugged and whipped in the open. The bastard.

After ten minutes, I became genuinely anxious that he wasn’t coming back. There had been an accident. He had taken an urgent call. He had fallen asleep.

The crackle of undergrowth lifted my heart and opened up my lungs for big breaths of relief.

‘That was mean,’ I called out. ‘Really mean.’

The crackling stopped and I craned my neck round, but he was just beyond my range of vision.

‘Please, sir, could you untie me now? My arms are aching.’

‘I don’t know about that.’

My feet left the floor and I almost broke the branch in my efforts to twist around.

‘Will!’

‘Well, fuck me. Look what the bastard’s gone and got himself. A willing little sex slave. I knew he’d got you into his kinks, but I didn’t know what a pervy little slut you were. I’d have gone to town on you if I had.’

‘Fuck off, Will. He’ll be back any minute.’

‘I’d rather fuck you than fuck off,’ said Will.

I could hear the leer in his voice and I stiffened.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ I hissed, as threatening as I could make it from my position of humiliating bondage.

‘What would you do about it?’ He moved closer, sucking in a breath. ‘Ouch, that looks sore. Seriously, what are you doing with this guy? He enjoys hurting you. I don’t get it.’

‘I want him to. I like it.’

‘And, to think, you didn’t even know what a butt plug was…’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘And now you’ve got one stuffed up your bum. Did you have it in when he fucked you?’

‘Just…fuck…off. Don’t even think about touching me or I’ll have Jasper on to you faster than ―’

‘Oh, stop it. I know he doesn’t like to share his toys. I hope you aren’t getting in too deep, though. It won’t last. It never does.’

‘Go away,’ I said, but my resolve was weaker, shot down by his wounding words. I both did and didn’t want to know what he had to say about Jasper’s track record.

‘He’s a collector, love. You know that. And he isn’t about to stop collecting. You’re just another entry on the list.’ He paused for a moment while I tried to ignore all the implications of this statement. Not listening. Don’t want to know. Then he spoke again. ‘Then again, you could just be the last. His style might just be cramped, pretty soon.’

Will’s efforts to blackmail Jasper result in mistrust between the lovers that almost wrecks their relationship. Sarah manages to head off her vengeful ex, but Jasper wants to up the ante and make Sarah commit to a future with him that might compromise her career plans. Here’s how the story ends:

 *****

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ he hissed. ‘Feel that now.’

The orgasm seemed to go on and on, aftershocks and vibrations continuing to inhabit my senses. When he came, pumping into my back passage like a man possessed, I almost experienced a second wave.

It was perfect. My life, here, with him, was perfect. He knew what I was, and only he could nourish that part of me.

I was only semi-conscious when he pulled out and untied me, then laid me on the bed. I was trembling all over and aching and sore and just, oh, it was the best feeling. I was floating.

He took off the period costume and lay with me in his arms, cradling me, making soothing noises and stroking my hair.

‘When do you have to start your job?’ he whispered.

‘End of September. Four weeks.’

‘Come to France with me.’

‘I can’t…’

‘Surely you can spare a couple of weeks?’

Actually, I could. There was nothing to stop me going for a short holiday.

‘I’d need to…tickets and passports and all that. And I’m supposed to be spending some time with my family…’

‘You can spare a couple of weeks,’ he repeated. ‘If we part company now, you’re going to have the worst sub drop of all time. I’d be neglecting to care for you properly. Come on. Have a fortnight’s holiday in France. After that…we’ll see.’

‘Well, I suppose…’ I thought about this. I was desperate to stay with him, on so many levels, but also afraid of leaving this place. It was as if we only existed here and our dynamic couldn’t translate to the real world. And France was in the real world, or so I’d been told. I loved him here, with all my heart, but would I love him there? And there would be people everywhere, curious colleagues and beautiful actresses and clamorous paparazzi.

‘Say yes. You have to say yes. I’m not leaving you like this.’

‘Do you really want me in your real life?’ It seemed absurd, too much to hope for.

‘I want you. There aren’t any conditions to it. I just want you. But you don’t feel the same?’

No. I did. I felt exactly the same.

‘I’ll come,’ I said. ‘But I’m still taking that job.’

‘Of course. Now get in the shower and I’ll drive you up to get your passport. There’s a lot of packing to do.’

 *****

So By His Command takes up their tale, with Sarah working at the Victorian House Museum and Jasper full of plans for their relationship.

If you’d like to know what happens to them next, the book is available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/By-His-Command-Justine-Elyot-ebook/dp/B00I2GZRM0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1395667252&sr=8-1&keywords=justine+elyot+by+his+command

Thank you for reading!

Find Justine Here: 

Website: http://justineelyot.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JustineElyot

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/justineelyot

 

 

 

Sexy Just Walked into Print!

SJWIT_1I love my Kindle and I wouldn’t be caught without it, but there’s just something about the feel of a real book. We Brit Babes all agree that sometimes you just need to feel it! With that in mind, we’ve got some great news for touchy-feely, inhale that sent and stroke those pages book lovers. The Brit Babes’ first anthology, Sexy Just Walked into Town, is now available in print!

For those of you who have been off-world for you holidays and may not yet know, here’s the skinny.

Sexy Just Walked Into Town is a collection of delicious erotic and romantic stories from the Brit Babes. These tales will tease and tantalise you, each one a sample of the individual Babes’ voices and styles. You’ll find contemporary, BDSM, same-sex loving, ménage a trois, paranormal, sporty, military, Rubenesque and more. There’s something to suit everyone here including a few Brit Babe collaborations.
Ranging from sweetly vanilla to so-hot-it-will-blow-your-mind, we  aim to please in every literary fantasy department. The heroes are strong, determined and soul-achingly divine and the heroines sassy, sexy and not afraid to grab what they want. Passion and pleasure is the name of our game, romance and raunch a top priority and it all comes with a delightful sprinkle of kink.
With a whole host of awards, best-sellers and accolades, the Babes know you’ll find something in this anthology that will keep you turning the pages and squirming on your seat. Then, if you like what you read here, check out the individual authors’ websites to investigate their collection of published works.
Buy Print Version of Sexy Just Walked into Town Here: britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4
Available free in eBook from:
AAAAAND! Here’s just a taste of what’s between this sizzling pages — a little excerpt from my story, Stones. 

 

Blurb from Stones:

When landscaper and gardener, Paul Danson, takes on the task of clearing the overgrown grounds of the mysterious Magda Gardener’s decaying Victorian mansion, he uncovers much more than the  disturbingly erotic sculptures hidden amid the bramble and ivy.

Excerpt from Stones:

Not wanting to risk another dream, I settled on the sofa with my laptop. I found myself looking at the works of great sculptors, Michelangelo, Bernini, Rodin, trying to think what made Magda Gardener’s sculptures different. There was sex, there was passion, there was violence, even rape. All were themes of the great sculptors. Bernini captured the very essence of Hades dragging Persephone off to hell – her terror, his lust – and no one could look at that sculpture and doubt what would happen next. Yet the horror was once removed, as though the stone itself has rendered safe and distant what was savage and terrifying, what was a breach of human decency.

Bernini's Hades and PersephoneBut Magda’s sculptures practically burst from the stone into life, into whatever mute terror secretly torments them, as though the sculptor fully understood that our most hideous nightmares are the ones born from the twisting and disfiguring of our most vulnerable passions. Could there be anything more horrendous than our deepest fear realised at the very point of ecstasy? Horror films capture it perfectly. The young couple, caught mid-fuck, always see it coming, and their last battle is the battle between ecstasy and horror.