Category Archives: New Releases

Getting Medieval with Toni Sands and Her Sexy Knight Shades Trilogy

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It’s my pleasure to have the delectable Toni Sands as my guest to talk about her hot new historic Knight Shade trilogy. Welcome Toni! Knights, chain mail, sexy damsels! Do tell!

Toni Sands Knight Shades trilogy9781909335783_FCThank you, K D, for inviting me along today to chat about my latest project. Forgive me if I loosen my lacings and settle my skirts around me. This huge scarlet cushion you’ve thrown me is the perfect match for my gown. And the delicious gooseberry wine you’ve poured must surely be down to your hard work in the vegetable garden?

I hope you’re sitting as comfortably as I am so I can begin …

Wow! Fit guys in chain mail pursuing gorgeous girls with cleavages deep enough to make Friar Tuck choke on his game pie? It sounded fun to me. So I took up the gauntlet thrown down by my lovely Xcite editor and allowed the knight of my dreams to sweep me up on his trusty steed and whisk me away to his raspberry stone castle.

Well, not quite … and I do apologise for involving you in my fantasy. But it’s not difficult to dream of bygone times, when we carry so many images from our childhood. There are countless stories of princesses seeking their Prince Charming, usually a gallant warrior or swordsman with great legs. Think of the many books and movies based on those chivalrous boys who thunder down the jousting ranges, lance in hand. Robin Hood always seems to be around in some form or other, so purely in the interests of research, I checked out Men in Tights but only after my personal favourite among the Jupiter Knights (Tebal the camp one) arrived in my story. I have no idea how he turned up but I love hanging out with him. A Knight’s Tale is another fun flick celebrating ‘silly boys with a horse and a stick’ while the Arthurian legend forms the basis for innumerable stories, movies and TV dramas, not least the BBC’s Merlin series.

My Knight Shades Trilogy (hope you approve of the name) is a mix of medieval, zany and romance. And erotic encounters. Oh and there are Toni Sands Knight Shades9781909335790_FCmagic forces at work within it too. Our hero, Sir Gavin, hits the ground running in Book One as he and his stallion, Sarum, gallop towards a crystal cleft, the portal to another world. Magic allows a writer quite a lot of licence when suspending the reader’s disbelief but hero Sir Gavin’s own strength of character and the power and determination brought about by bonding and of course love ensures the enchantress doesn’t quite get it all her own way.

Yes, I did mention strength of character though you may huff with disbelief when you read Woman of Power and see our hero’s lusty reactions to the beautiful women he meets. Please give him a break! In Woman of Power, he’s newly returned from the Crusades and kind of like a monk who decides chastity’s not really his thing. Lust really does turn to love for Gavin where one particular lady’s concerned but the object of his desires is out of bounds. Plus, Gav’s personal journey towards emotional maturity is hampered by the tricks performed on him by that evil witch playing a complicated game of souls.

The next book, Wicked Woman, takes my knight to a frozen landscape, in part inspired by a visit to the Nordic European country of Iceland. If you like quirky and aren’t put off by freezing temperatures, you’ll be blown away by Iceland. It’s the perfect place for a writer of erotica – so much going on under the surface with thermal energy bubbling away and geysers discharging clouds of steam. The city is ablaze with lights and the bars and restaurants are often lit subtly. Very flattering if one is past the youthful, dewy stage!

Gavin and his fellow-knight accept hospitality from a woman holding a girls’ weekend while the men folk are away on a hunting trip. As Gavin might say, ‘What’s a knight to do?’ Enchantress Sibilla makes more than one appearance, ramping up our hero’s determination to escape her clutches.

Gavin’s liaisons, amorous or otherwise, have repercussions. Women tend to use him for their own means. But he’s no wimp and the third book is intended to hone his character in readiness for the challenge awaiting him as the story draws to a conclusion.

Unforgettable Woman, the final book of my trilogy and almost complete, is destined to be the most poignant book of the three. Gavin’s physical and emotional strength will be tested again as new characters join existing ones. It’s due for publication in January and I hope you’ll stay with my hot knight as he rides on …

Toni Sands Knight Shades SandraMay12 021Before I leave your roaring log fire, I’d like to follow the popular trend and talk a little about writing sex scenes, something which tests writers in many ways. Decisions … decisions. If my hero let his eyes do the touching, should my heroine take the initiative or not? Does she want to open the box of chocolates NOW? Or wait until later? The mind often provides the foreplay. Can a character’s fantasy have a greater impact on the reader than an explicit description of the actual encounter? I do hope so because this is an approach I use within my writing! If two lovers (or would be lovers) are kept apart for story reasons, the author can bring them together upon the page by giving one of them a chance to fantasise. All of us have dreams, don’t we?

I wish you all a sumptuous holiday season, whether you plan to drink mulled wine by candlelight, escape to a tropical hideaway or attend every possible party!

Love

Toni  x

www.tonisands.co.uk

Follow me @tonisands

To buy Book One, Knight Shades trilogy: Woman of Power, please visit

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Woman-Power-Knights-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00A42VI14/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1355924241&sr=1-1-fkmr0

For my lovely US readers:

http://www.amazon.com/Woman-Power-Knights-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00A42VI14/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1355925452&sr=1-1&keywords=toni+sands

To buy Book Two: Wicked Woman, please visit

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wicked-Woman-Knights-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00APMM2P4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1355924241&sr=1-1

and for US readers:

http://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Woman-Knights-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00APMM2P4/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1355925527&sr=1-7&keywords=toni+sands

You can pre-order the print version of Orchid Pink

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Orchid+Pink

 

 

A Taste of London by Lucy Felthouse

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A Taste of LondonRyan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are heading off on the trip of a lifetime. They’re spending their gap year traveling the world and expect lots of sun, sights and sex. The guys have a couple of days in the English capital before catching the Eurostar to Paris. Unfortunately, a family emergency means that Kristian has to head back home for a while, leaving Ryan to continue the trip alone.

Luckily for Ryan, he’s an attractive guy and there is no shortage of gorgeous women available to help take his mind off Kristian’s family drama.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-taste-of-london/

*****

Chapter One

“Come on, mate, let’s go and grab our travel passes from the machine,” Ryan said, his familiarity with the locale apparent by the way he marched along the train platform toward the heart of St. Pancras Station.

“What? Uh – okay.” Kristian re-arranged his bag on his shoulder and scurried to keep up with his friend.

Bypassing the huge line of impatient, muttering people queuing for the manned booths, Ryan headed to one of the ticket machines. By the time Kristian caught up, Ryan already had a travel pass in his hand.

“So, um, what do I need to buy then, mate? I’m not as au fait with all this as you.”

“Been practising your French for the trip, Kris?” Ryan punched his friend on the arm playfully. “No worries. We’re only taking one trip tonight so you just need a single to London Bridge on the Tube.”

“All right,” Kristian replied, carefully tapping the relevant areas of the touch screen, feeding his money into the machine and triumphantly retrieving his ticket.

“Okay, I’m ready to go!”

“Come on then.” Ryan hoisted his bag back onto his shoulder and walked in the direction of the Underground, with Kristian close behind.

“Hey,” Kristian said, pointing as they passed a map of the Underground, “don’t you need to check where we’re going?”

“Nope,” Ryan said, without breaking stride, “I know London pretty well, plus I double checked all this stuff when I organised this part of the trip. What can I say, it’s the Boy Scout in me.”

“Cool. I guess it makes things easier when you’re not checking a map every two minutes. So how long will it take us to get to London Bridge station from here?”

They stepped onto the escalator. Rather than standing still and letting the moving staircase do its thing, Ryan continued to walk, eager now to get this leg of traveling over and done with so he could have some fun. It had been a long day, or at least it felt like one. They’d actually only traveled around one hundred and fifty miles from the outskirts of the Peak District to the centre of London, a couple of hours on the train, but it had felt like longer. Perhaps because he’d been so eager to actually get to London and start their adventure.

“Not long mate. Probably about ten minutes. It’s a direct journey and at this time of day it shouldn’t be too busy. We can dump our stuff at the hostel then have some drinks next door.”

“There’s a pub next door? No wonder I let you sort out this trip. You’re a fucking genius!”

By now, they’d reached the bottom of the escalator. Ryan stepped off, then turned to face his friend. Tapping his head, he grinned and said, “It’s not just a hat rack, mate.”

Kristian laughed. “You’re right there.” He paused. “It’s a fucking chick magnet, too!”

Ryan frowned, looking genuinely confused. “It is?” Then he shook himself and smiled. “I wish someone had told me!”

“Are you kidding, mate? Everywhere we go, women are checking you out.” Kristian grinned. “Why do you think I agreed to go traveling with you? I’m hoping some of your apparent sex appeal will rub off on me and get me some action!”

Ryan laughed, then started walking towards the southbound platform for their connection to London Bridge. “So that’s your ulterior motive, eh? Never mind being my best mate, or seeing the world, you just wanna get laid?”

*****

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, Secret Cravings 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

Ashley Lister’s Alter-ego Lisette Ashton Talks About Dragon Desire

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As my last guest of 2012, I’m elated to welcome Ashley Lister’s alter-ego, Lisette Ashton, to my site to talk about the novel I’ve been anxiously waiting to read, Dragon Desire. Welcome back to A Hopeful Romantic, Ashley/Lisette, and do tell us all about Dragon Desire: The Quest for Satisfaction.

Ashley ListerDragon CoverFirst I have to thank the lovely KD Grace for inviting me here today. KD Grace is one of my favourite authors and I’m genuinely honoured to be a guest on her blog.

Second I’d like to wish season’s greetings to everyone reading this. It’s almost New Year and I hope the festive period has brought you everything you personally desired.

And, on the subject of New Year celebrations, I should point out that this year, according to the Chinese horoscope, has been the year of the dragon. Like a lot of readers, I’ve always been fascinated by dragons. There’s something about the majesty, power and excitement of these mythical creatures that I find thrilling. Perhaps it’s the idea of dragons devouring maidens? It could be the suggestion of power they embody. Or maybe it’s the thought of a dragon capturing a damsel and insisting she be rescued by a brave knight…?

Anyway, at the start of this year, I decided to take a shot at writing an erotic story based in a world where dragons exist. It’s been one of the singular most exciting experiences of my writing career.

The fantasy genre operates under different rules to most other writing styles. Swords, sorcery, magic and dragons have a profound effect on fictional characters. In some ways, I suppose, it’s similar to the effect of irresistible sexual arousal in a well-written erotic novel.

And it’s addictive.

Since I wrote my first short story in this genre I’ve now written another novel, plan to write a sequel and I’ve got ideas for a half dozen more short stories. There’s something I find compelling about writing of an age where life was made simple by a lack of technology and surfeit of magic and dragons. The following extract from Dragon Desire introduces the story’s hero, Owain, and the dragon he guards, Drusilla.

Dragon Desire is available now from Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dragon-Desire-ebook/dp/B00ALKTUWS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356539096&sr=8-1

As long as he could continue to overlook the fact that there was a leather wedding band on her heart finger, Owain knew he would enjoy rutting with the redhead in any one of the hay-filled stalls.

“I didn’t mean to upset you with my ignorant comment about dragon horn.”

She didn’t look at him as she said the words. Instead they were spoken over her shoulder as she continued to pet Drusilla. The dragon continued to purr as the redhead caressed its cheek and wings.

“You weren’t to know,” he assured her. He was thankful for the darkness of the stalls. It stopped her from seeing the solemnity of his features. “I once had a bad experience because of someone spinning lies about dragon horn,” he explained. “I suppose I overreact whenever it’s mentioned nowadays.”

He looked up to see she had stopped petting the dragon.

Silently, she had moved to stand by his side. She stared up at him, her emerald eyes sparkling softly. Her chest seemed to rise and fall with a quickened pace. His gaze fell to the heave of her breasts. The thrust of her nipples jutted sharp against the light cotton of her kirtles.

Unable to stop himself, Owain licked his lips.

“Do you like what you see, sire?” she asked coyly.

The red and gold kirtles were laced with ribbon at the breast. She reached for the dangling thread of one ribbon and teased it so the binding began to unravel.

“Would sire like to see more?”

The coquettish lilt to her voice was thoroughly endearing.

Owain dearly wanted to show decency and propriety. He wanted to mention the fact that she wore a leather band on her heart finger and was therefore either married or betrothed to another. But, whilst he wanted to act like a gallant knight or chivalrous suitor, his actions were dictated by the needs of his loins.

“I’d like to do a lot more than see,” he told her.

He pulled her into his embrace, snaking one arm around her waist so that she was brought close to him. He lowered his face to her lips and then they were kissing with a passion that was as ferocious and fulfilling as he had expected.

Her tongue explored his mouth. She curled one leg around his hip, pressing the centre of her sex against thigh. A sob of raw desire whimpered from her throat as she ground herself against him. Her hands pushed at his chest, fumbling to remove his tunic and gain access to his bare flesh.

With a moan of desperation she wrenched her mouth from his.

“Take me,” she pleaded.

He couldn’t hide his smile.

“If you insist.” He lowered his face to the unfastened décolletage of her kirtles and pressed his nose between her breasts. Drinking in the dusky scent of her nearness he moved his mouth over one orb and suckled against the stiff, throbbing tip of her nipple.

She groaned.

He stiffened at the sound and cast a wary glance toward the doorway. When he realised that no one had been alerted by the cry of her pleasure he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the experience and stop worrying that she might have a husband or fiancé lurking in the shadows ready to accuse her of being adulterous or challenge him for being a swiver.

When the redhead groaned again Owain savoured the sound.

He resisted the urge to buck his loins against her.

Working with dragons fuelled him with a constant arousal but he was loathe to surrender himself so quickly to such a base responses. Holding her in one arm, teasing the shape of her exposed breast with one hand as he suckled against the hard and unyielding tip of the other, Owain revelled in her heightened responses to his teasing.

She was breathless and trembling and desperate for his cock.

“Take me,” she begged. “I’m so wet for you now.”

She grabbed at his tunic with her left hand. It was the same hand that bore the leather band on her heart finger.

“I’m so wet,” she insisted.

Dragon Desire is available now from Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dragon-Desire ebook/dp/B00ALKTUWS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356539096&sr=8-1

 

A Ghost for Christmas by Kacey Hammell

Guest Blogger, New Releases, , , , , , ,

A Ghost for ChristmasAfter receiving a long weekend at an elegant hotel beside the majestic Niagara Falls as a Christmas gift, Jodie Gibson is determined to do nothing but relax and enjoy the scenery. And, okay, just maybe meet someone who makes her toes curl.

Sebastian is sophisticated, tall, dark and gorgeous–everything a woman fantasizes about. But he’s also an 18th century ghost. He haunts the halls of the hotel, seeking the one true love that can help him find peace…

*****

Excerpt © Kacey Hammell

As she peered into the reflective glass, a face appeared behind her. Jodie whipped around and fell back against the window.

Oh my fucking God!

Before her, in what looked like a shimmering bubble, stood the most breathtakingly beautiful man she’d ever seen. Dressed in a white shirt and black pants, he had dark unruly hair and striking, magnetic blue eyes that held her in place.

Jodie blinked, uncertain, scared and breathless.

How was it possible? She’d read the newspaper clippings, yes, but it was unimaginable to think ghosts might actually walk among the living.

Not everything made sense. She only believed in things that could actually be seen, felt and touched. This seemed surreal.

Stunned by the apparition before her, dressed in what looked like centuries-old clothes straight out of Esquire, he seemed to look straight through her, and his smile warmed her clear to her toes. Lord, she was in trouble.

“Hello.” Soft and gravelly, his voice alone seduced her…all the way to her toes. Her body quivered and her center tightened.

Whoa. What the hell am I thinking?  There’s a ghost in front of me and I’m ready to jump his bones. Not bloody likely.

“What are you doing here? Get out.  I don’t care who you are, you’re leaving, right now.”

He frowned. “No need to be frightened.  I’ve been here for centuries.”

Jodie laughed, and not one to wilt like a scared little girl, stood tall. “This is all a joke.” She looked around, up and down, and all over the room. “Are there hidden cameras somewhere?  Hey, Ashton, if you’re behind the camera, you can come out now.  I’ve been Punk’d good. Thanks and all, but I’d like to get on with my evening without you.”

“Who is this Ashton? What is a punk?  A rake, perhaps?” he asked.

Jodie squinted.  “A rake?”  She hadn’t ever heard that term spoken, but had read it in historical romances. No one talked like that these days. “No. Never mind, it’s not important. Listen, I just want you to go. I want to enjoy my evening.”

His smile was gentle. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this evening every decade is the only time I am visible to the human eye. I never miss a chance to watch the Falls.”

Every decade…

“You’re telling me you do this every ten years? How old are you?”

“I was born in 1781. That makes me—”

“Two hundred thirty-one,” Jodie whispered, legs weak. She grabbed the back of the chair nearby and sat down. Were such things even possible?

Jesus.

An eighteenth century ghost stood before her.

Merry Christmas to me.

Available at…

Evernight Publishing
Amazon US
Amazon UK
All Romance eBooks

 

Readers can learn more about Kacey’s books/contact her via …

Website / Facebook / Facebook Author Page / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Pinterest

Proving Santa Exists: Victoria Blisse is Heating Up the Season!

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Victoria Bliss Proving Santa ExistsProving Santa Exists Blurb:

When Jonathan transfers from the U.S to the Manchester branch of Computers Inc., Jenny is the first person to make him feel at home. Finding out about his bleak Christmases as a boy, she makes up her mind to involve him in all her English Christmas traditions.

Passion sparks between the two as they decorate the Christmas tree. Who would have thought such an innocent activity could become so sexually charged? Can Jenny succeed in seducing the hot American and also prove to him that Santa really does exist?

* Includes the Full Seasonal Recipes for meals & snacks mentioned in the story.

Proving Santa Exists Hot Excerpt:

“How are you enjoying your Christmas so far?” I ask, the film credits fading into the background.

“It’s been amazing,” Jonathan enthuses as his eyes meet mine, then a serious shadow darkens their flame. “Christmas was never anything special when I was a kid. We never had a tree. The home said it cost too much and it was a fire hazard.”

I tut and shake my head.

“The highlight was the Santa. We knew he wasn’t real, just a man dressed as Santa. He’d bring each of us a toy. I got a little car one year. I still have it.”

“How come you knew it wasn’t the real Father Christmas?”

“Because we knew there was no real Santa. They told us so all the time. They told us not to get our hopes up because Santa didn’t exist and wouldn’t bring us what we wanted on Christmas Eve.”

“What?” I’m outraged. I feel my blood boiling with the harsh cruelty of it. “Santa does exist.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” He shakes his head, his eyes wide.

“Yes, yes I do.” I nod my head emphatically. “Maybe not in the way a child does, but I heartily believe in the spirit of Father Christmas. I believe in the meaning behind the make-believe. My faith is in the giving, which is the true centre of the festive season—the heart of it all. It’s all about making life better for other people and, through that, enhancing your own life. Santa definitely exists.”

Suddenly, those lips are on mine again, and his arms wrap around me. I feel his cheek against my skin. I feel moisture there: the trail of a tear. I close my eyes and kiss back, giving. I give him the softest, gentlest kiss I can. I want him to feel cherished. My heart throbs in pain at the harshness he’s suffered in his life. I want to smooth over all those rough edges; I want him to see what I mean about Father Christmas existing.

I pull him closer to me. My arms wrap tighter around him, and I stroke his back to offer comfort. Our lips, in contrast, are joined lustfully. With every small move, I feel my heart beat harder and faster. I become dizzy with the speed at which the blood is whizzing around my body, making every inch of me zing with the created friction and heat. His body presses me back against the sofa arm, twisting my own beneath him.

His lips leave mine and kiss a fizzing trail of pleasure down my neck to my collar bone. His hands rise from their position on my hips to slide under my loose-fitting red jumper and up higher to cup my breasts. The shock of his cool hands through the thin, lacy gauze is deliciously arousing. I groan my appreciation as his fingers dig into the cups and ease out the masses of abundant tit-flesh beneath. Pushing the wool of my jumper up with the tops of his wrists, his lips leave the soft flesh at the hollow of my neck.

Moments later, after my jumper is completely removed, their warm wetness encompasses my nipple, sending even more intense ripples of pleasure throughout my body. I feel him shift until he’s on his knees in front of me. One of my legs is still on the floor, the other is crossed in front of my pubis. I slip a hand between our bodies, running it under his shirt, feeling that soft, supple skin that I’ve only just glimpsed before. I follow the soft trail of hair down from his belly button to the top of his jeans. I feel more than hear the moan he emits from around my nipple as I pop open the brass button, then slide down the zipper.

I can’t believe I am being so forward, but as he doesn’t move to stop me, I yank his jeans and his boxers down to the middle of his thighs. My action emboldens him and he moves back, allowing me to spread my thighs around him. Jonathan strokes down to my legs and pulls up the full length of long, billowing skirt, his mouth still feasting on the white meat of my breasts. A hand of mine rubs through the wiry hair trailing down to his cock. When my flesh touches his, I melt. He’s hard and hot and very willing.

Proving Santa Exists Links:

Amazon.co.uk

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00A7FJ6WQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00A7FJ6WQ&linkCode=as2&tag=sexy00-21

Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00A7FJ6WQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00A7FJ6WQ&linkCode=as2&tag=sexy00-21

And this link on my website covers both links and has a blurb/excerpt for people too:

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/books/blissemas-tales-proving-santa-exists

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

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

Find out more at http://victoriablisse.co.uk or follow and friend Victoria: http://twitter.com/victoriablisse http://facebook.com/victoriablisse