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Archive for ‘New Releases’


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New Release: Off the Beaten Track by Lucy Felthouse

Another new release from my good friend and fellow writer, Lucy Felthouse!

 

Off the Beaten TrackWhen workaholic Libby Strong’s friends and family make her take a long overdue holiday, she’s not impressed. A week of lounging by a swimming pool and doing nothing is not her idea of fun. In an act of rebellion, she books a day trip, touring in a jeep. When her guide arrives, Libby’s astonished to discover she’s the only patron going on the trip. But as hunky Demetrio takes her off the beaten track and deep into the beautiful Portuguese countryside, she soon leaves her worries behind and hangs on tight for the ride of her life.

Available from:

All Romance eBooks
Resplendence Publishing
1PlaceforRomance.com
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

Excerpt:

Libby huffed and puffed as she made her way up the steep slope leading to the rear exit of the hotel complex. She swore the builders had had secret CCTV cameras installed so they could watch people suffer their poor planning for years to come. At least it was early. Had it been lunchtime, she’d surely have passed out with the heat.

Ah well, Libby thought as she finally reached the road, it’ll be worth it. This trip is going to be amazing.

As she stood on the mercifully flat pavement and got her breath back, a thought niggled at her. Nobody else was here. Panicking, Libby wrenched open her bag and pulled out her paperwork. She examined it, then a glance at her watch confirmed she had both the right date and time. So where was everyone? Yes, she was ten minutes early but surely the others should be here by now? Looking down the slope she’d just ascended, Libby frowned as she saw it was deserted. Everywhere was deserted.

Fuck, she thought, perhaps they were all here earlier and they’ve gone without me!

The rumble of an engine distracted Libby from her worries. Turning, she saw a jeep trundling down the road towards her. She watched hopefully as the driver pulled the vehicle up beside where she stood and reached into the passenger seat.

Picking up a clipboard, the man glanced down, then at her, and said, “You are Libby Strong?”

She nodded.

The man grinned widely, revealing dimples in both cheeks, and hopped out of the jeep. Walking around the vehicle to where she stood, he held out a hand.

“I am Demetrio. Your guide for the day.”

Libby took his hand and shook it. It was warm and strong. Much like the rest of him, she suspected, as she gave him a subtle once over. He was tall, with black curly hair to his shoulders, luscious brown eyes and olive skin. A white t-shirt bearing the holiday company’s logo covered his top half—though without obscuring his impressive biceps—and he wore longish tan colored shorts on the bottom. A pair of non-descript white-ish trainers and faded red cap completed his outfit.

“I’m Libby,” she said, even though he already knew her name. She was just being polite. “Pleased to meet you.”

They broke off the handshake and Demetrio smiled again, then moved to the passenger side of the jeep and pulled open the door.

“Please,” he said, gesturing she should get in.

Libby did as she was told, but couldn’t help asking the burning question.

“Where is everyone else?”

Demetrio waited until she was safely in the passenger seat, closed the door and made his way to the driver’s side. He got in, then turned to her.

“There is nobody else. You are only person on this trip. You get best views!”

He laughed then , the flash of white teeth against olive skin resulting in an unexpected jolt in Libby’s nether regions. She studied his profile for a few seconds, then grudgingly admitted to herself that Demetrio was, in fact, very attractive. Despite the fact she was a red-blooded woman, she rarely noticed such things.

Like most people, she’d come on this holiday to recharge her batteries. Unlike most people, she’d been practically forced into it. Libby was somewhat of a workaholic, which left her little time for anything else. It was this fact which had cost her her last relationship. The long working hours, frequent rain checks on their dates and her lack of interest in any kind of affection, let alone sex, had finally caused James to walk away.

Libby had barely noticed. She’d just carried on working, and working…until her friends and family had finally intervened. They’d booked the holiday to Portugal, arranged with her boss for her to have the time off, and basically given her little choice but to go.

*****

Lucy FelthouseLucy 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, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, 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. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

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The Pet Shop: A Free GIFT

I’m very excited to announce a free taste of my critically acclaimed novel, The Pet Shop! Alongside the original novel, The Pet Shop is now being offered by Xcite in a limited Kindle edition three-part series. The first part, The Gift is available for FREE for the next five days on Amazon beginning on Saturday 16th June. And, since Xcite is only too aware that Pets are addicting, to help feed your addiction for hot kinky romance, Part Two, The Secret Life of Pets, and Part Three, The Taming, are just £.77 each in the UK and $1.19 in the US.

The Gift Blurb:

In appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a Pet – a human Pet. The mysterious Tino arrives equipped with a collar a leash and an erection, and Stella quickly learns that keeping Pets, especially this one, is extremely addictive. Will a chance meeting with reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks an awful lot like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, double Stella’s pleasure or just be double trouble?

About The Pet Shop

The Pet Shop is a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast. In part, the theme of the story is our effort to understand the beast that lives within all of us, to tame it and make it acceptable to polite company. Of course in the taming of anything wild we run the risk of losing that wildness that compelled us to love it in the first place. The Pet Shop explores the effort to find a balance between the two.

I’ve always been fascinated with our animal nature, and I’ve often wondered how much of that nature is ancestral behaviours reasserting themselves and how much of it – especially from the standpoint of the human pet situation I’ve created in The Pet Shop, is simply a need to be loved and adored, and to be able to trust someone enough to give up control to them.

Beauty and the Beast and my retelling of it in The Pet Shop are both about seeing the true nature of a person, with all their flaws and neuroses, and loving them anyway. But ultimately the story is also about trusting enough to allow oneself to be loved, and believing that one is worthy of love, warts, blemishes and all.

Excerpt:

‘I’m sorry, Tino,’ Stella shoved to her feet, tearing her gaze away from the gorgeously horny man sitting on the floor by her chair. ‘But I just can’t do this. If I had known what Anne – what Strigida – had planned for me, I would have never consented, surely Anne knew that. Anyway, I feel really bad that I’ve wasted your time, but this is just not something I can do.’

The pet only looked up at her with adoring and expectant eyes.

‘I’ll gladly give you taxi fare home, of course. I mean that’s the least I can do. None of this is your fault, after all. Anne told me that you were a gift, so I assume you’ve already been paid.’ She raced through the last sentence breathlessly, her face burning at the very thought that the company had paid for a prostitute for her.

Did they really think she was that desperate? And never mind how desperate she was, surely she had worked at Strigida long enough for them to realise this was not the gift for her. And she was bloody well certain Anne knew that. There would definitely be words when she returned from Bath. ‘Is that all right, if we do that? If we just call it even and I get you a cab home?’

Tino made no response. Instead, he rubbed his cheek affectionately against her leg and moved to sit back on his haunches, a position that made his erection look even more enormous, bulging heavily against his thigh. At the sight, her stomach muscles tensed low and tight and her pussy clenched and half convulsed.

‘I forgot,’ she looked down at the manual still gripped in one hand, ‘Pets don’t talk. But since I really don’t want a Pet, couldn’t you break the rules just this once?’

He brushed her leg again with his cheek, then with his lips, making delicious shivers run up her spine.

‘Guess not. OK. Well, I realise this is an awkward situation, Tino, and I’m really sorry about that. I know you’re expected to stay here. I appreciate your position. Really I do. I’m sure we’ll get through this if we work together.’ She nodded down the hall. ‘I have a guestroom. You’re welcome to sleep there. It’s small but comfortable.’ He followed her on silent feet, and looked on as she showed him the guestroom.

‘The closet’s there.’ She pointed. ‘Though I guess you won’t need that. Extra toiletries are on the dressing table there. Those you might need. And the remote for the telly, well it’s a little tetchy. Here let me show you.’ Suddenly she realised he wasn’t paying any attention. His gaze was locked on her – more specifically on her crotch. She blushed hard and forced a smile. ‘Never mind. I imagine you can figure it out if you decide you want to watch telly. Anyway, make yourself at home. Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink?’

Again, he plopped down on the floor. This time he wrapped his arms around her leg and began to rub his cheek against her thigh.

‘Tino, really. I don’t think I can …’

He made little grunting sounds and shifted his hips forward and back. If anything, his erection seemed still bigger. She suddenly remembered the manual said the Pet Shop kept their Pets horny. Hadn’t Anne said he usually didn’t have to wait this long before he came?

She found herself blushing again at the sight of his heavy hard-on. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how … uncomfortable you must be. I know you’re not allowed to touch yourself unless your keeper gives you permission, and, well, since we can’t, since we’re not going to …’ She nodded to his cock. ‘It’s all right with me if you do what you need to do. You know, for some relief.’ She felt like her face would burst into flames.

For a long moment he looked up at her with his bottomless cinnamon eyes, as though he couldn’t quite comprehend what she wanted of him. Then, slowly, carefully, holding her gaze, he laid a hand against his cock and ran a curled palm up the length of it. A shudder ascended his spine. He threw back his head and released a trembling breath that ended in a deep animal groan at the back of his throat.

Almost before she realised it, she replied with a little whimper of her own that slipped between her lips. Her nipples pearled through the thin silk of her blouse, and her pussy felt slick and giddy. She closed her eyes only for a split second, but the next thing she knew, Tino was standing beside her, so close that her hand, resting low against her belly brushed his cock, and they both gasped at the feel of it. Before she could do more than marvel at the velvety softness that felt like it sheathed granite, he pushed in closer, and his large hand engulfed hers easing it gently against his cock with just enough pressure to encourage her fingers to wrap around the girth of him.

She should have stepped back, she should have commanded him to stay in the room and do what he needed to do and not come out until he was done. But she didn’t. Instead she curled her fingers around him and felt his hand tighten over hers. She expected him to hump like a dog, but he only stepped closer, engulfing her in a feral scent not unlike cat fur on a sunny day.

The shifting of his hips was almost invisible but for the tensing of the muscles low in his hard belly, tightening and lifting until his soft pubic curls just grazed the inside of her wrist. Instead of the blatant sexuality she expected, he simply laid his head on her shoulder, his warm breath raising the fine hair along the back of her neck. His heart hammered a heavy drumbeat that matched her own, and her nipples seemed to be pressing ever forward to get nearer to it.

His free arm encircled her, resting just above her hip, where his hand moved in a gentle caress up and down her ribs, almost tickling. The sensation of it all accumulated warm and heavy just below her belly. The heat of his lips rested close to the pulse of her neck. They were slightly parted, his breath coming in fast little puffs.

She knew she should be pushing him away, making him bend over for the spanking a misbehaving Pet deserved. She hadn’t asked him to touch her, and she hadn’t volunteered her services. ‘You’re a very naughty Pet, Tino.’ She barely managed to gasp before he tensed, and a strangled groan escaped his throat just as his cock twitched and she felt the silky slick heat of his come spill over both of their hands and against his bare belly. Then his whole body convulsed, and involuntarily he pulled her tight against him, an act which sent her into her own convulsions. She let out a startled cry. She hadn’t expected to come. She hadn’t intended to come, and yet there she stood quivering out her pleasure against the Pet, who held her in a powerful, sex-stimulated bear-hug.

From Amazon.com

The Gift

The Secret Life of Pets

The Taming

From Amazon.co.uk

The Gift

The Secret Life of Pets

The Taming

 

 

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Justine Elyot Shares the Story Behind Game

It’s totally my pleasure to welcome back one of my very favourite naughty writers and all around fab Chick , Justine Elyot. And wow, has she got a scorching excerpt for us from her new novel, Game! Enjoy!

Got Game?

By Justine Elyot

I’ve had this book planned for a long time. It’s a sequel, you see, to a story I started writing in 2008. That book was published in 2009 by Black Lace and On Demand has maintained a rather startling level of popularity ever since, even though Black Lace disappeared from the market immediately afterwards.

I thought I might pitch it to the original commissioning editor when he moved to Xcite Books a few months later, but in the event, I decided to go with The Business of Pleasure instead. By the time that came out, he was gone (again) and the idea was sidelined in favour of other projects.

Another year went by and, hey presto! He popped up again, inviting me to submit something to HarperCollins brand new Mischief line. This time, Lloyd and Sophie were going to get their encore, and here they are, starring in their own story.

(Game cover)

I have a soft spot for Sophie and Lloyd because they happened by accident. I love it when events overtake me during the writing of a story and something very much better than what I originally planned comes out them. I was going to end On Demand with Sophie getting together with her much-crushed-on Chase, who had been keeping her at arm’s length for various reasons relating to past disappointments.

But when I was a little way into the pool orgy scene, Lloyd and Sophie’s fabulous dynamic of lust-disguised-under-hostility swept all aside and had to be elaborated upon. Thus, they ended up together.

I say ‘ended up’, but their story had only begun. I knew that Sophie had a lot of emotional baggage to unpack before she could really settle, and Game is all about that unpacking process. Which makes it sound deadly dull. I must reassure you at this point that there is a lot of hot sex in this book, and some pretty wild surprises.

Here’s an excerpt:

Lloyd rears up and pulls out of me, running a hand through his hair and shutting his eyes for a moment, re-orientating.

‘Shower, then.’ He picks up his clothes, frowns at the terrible state of his jacket and gives me an encouraging nod. ‘Oh dear,’ he says, clicking his tongue. ‘Can’t you stand? Poor afflicted thing.’

‘Shut up, of course I can stand.’ I swing my legs over the side and give a fair impression of Bambi’s first few upright seconds. Lloyd swoops forward and helps me. ‘So gallant, proper Sir Walter Raleigh, aren’t you?’

From the kitchen corner, Sasha snorts.

‘Are you two always like this?’ she asks, without turning around.

I pick up my neatly-folded clothes and hug them to my chest.

‘Always.’

In the shower, Lloyd directs the water over my breasts and my sticky thighs.

‘You didn’t fail then,’ he says, sounding disappointed.

‘Did you think I would?’

‘I need to up my game.’

The jets spray on to my breasts, tingling my nipples. Lloyd cups the underside of my breasts, holding them in place while he keeps the shower head no more than an inch above them.

‘What’s next?’ I ask, flexing my toes, splashing them in the lovely warm water. ‘Sex while parachuting from a plane? In a canoe going over a waterfall? In space?’

He puts the shower head back in its cradle, takes the bottle of gel cleanser, squirts it into his hand, lathers it up around my breasts and stomach and shoulders.

‘Yeah,’ he says, with an enigmatic look. ‘You keep thinking along those lines, Soph.’

‘What do you mean?’

He smothers me with bubbling foam and pulls me against him so our chests slip and slide together. Water rains into our mouths while we kiss, leaking into the cracks of lips, dripping off our noses, clogging up our eyelashes.

He turns me around and washes my back and bottom, very thoroughly, far more thoroughly than is quite necessary.

‘I mean what I mean,’ he says, letting the suds slip down the crack of my arse, parting the cheeks, massaging the slightly stinging soap inside.

‘As Confucius would say. What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It’s supposed to mean what it’s supposed to mean.’

I try to slap him, but it isn’t easy when you’re facing the wrong way and he has his hands on your bum. I manage an awkward collision of elbow (mine) and hip (his) and reap my inevitable reward.

‘Ouch!’ I always forget that a smack on a wet bottom is worth about three on a dry one.

‘Impatient,’ he reproves, keeping me close and tight with an arm around my ribs. Something semi-hard pushes into my right buttock, distracting me from the newly-laid sting. ‘All will be revealed in time.’

I lean my head back on his shoulder, looking up while he looks down.

‘You know, I really hate you, Lloyd.’

He nuzzles his nose against my cheek, kissing the space beneath my ear.

‘Mmm, I know you do. That’s why you’re always so wet for me.’

‘That’s because I’m in the shower.’

‘Not all the other times. All the dozens of scores of hundreds of other times. All those times you’ve begged me, on your wide-open knees…’

‘That’s because I’m trying to kill you with sex. I’ll do it one day.’

‘Mmm, best assassination technique ever.’

His hands are low now, fingers moving down with the trickles of water, flowing and meeting at the delta of my sex. He holds me by my cunt and bites down into the softness of my neck.

I give in to it. My body knows no other way. I spread my feet further apart, granting him full access to my lips and clit and vagina, all so recently used by him.

The water provides an extra element of friction when he starts the slow up-down rubbing of my clit with the side of his hand. It almost feels rough, refractory, needing extra force, which he gives.

Because I am facing away from him, I can see the way his arm crosses my body, watch the sinews move beneath the skin, slide my gaze down to his wrist, see the point where the fingers bend and disappear beneath me. Watching the intricate interplay of those muscles, knowing but not seeing what they are working on, is powerfully aphrodisiac. I can see what he is doing, and I can feel what he is doing at the same time.

But then he changes tack, puts his hands on my thighs and slides down behind me until he is on his knees. A tongue joins the lapping water at my pussy, a strong push brings it between my lips. I pivot at the hips and press my palms flat against the wall, holding myself up, keeping myself in position for more of this oral delight.

It’s as if he drinks the warm water away, lapping it up, replacing it with his own luscious licking, cleaning me to make me dirty.

I drip into his mouth, rotating my hips, beginning to moan. He holds me fast, flicks that tongue faster, flicking the engorged bead of my clit over and over. My palms begin to slide. I fear I might fall, but he claps his hands on my hips, keeping me upright.

In the cage frame of his arms, my body slumps. My core burns and blooms, ribbons of sensation unfurling inside me, gushing out to join the combined waters of his tongue and the hot water pipes. I become a fountain.

My splashing self slips down to the tiled shower basin. I want to lie there while the droplets cover and bathe me. But Lloyd has other ideas.

Still on his knees, he clears his throat and looks forlornly down at his erection.

His hair plastered to his scalp, his eyelashes brimming with water-sparkles, his face clean and shining, he looks too completely fucking adorable. I can’t resist him. I haul myself to my knees facing him and take his testicles in my hands, testing them for firmness and fullness. Lloyd has seemingly endless supplies of testosterone, as his cock testifies.

I suck him gently at first, then with increasing urgency, pinching the base of his shaft, squeezing his balls, getting my lips down lower and lower until he is deep in my throat. My cheeks are wet when his thick load of cream shoots into my mouth, but the shower isn’t the only reason for that. There’s a saline element to the damp patches, a stickiness.

When I lie back in his arms, letting the water engulf us both, I hope he hasn’t noticed, but the way he traces a finger beneath the lower lid of both my eyes suggests he has.

And if that’s made you want to read on, you can!

Game is available from Mischief Books: http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/game/

Or a number of third party retailers, including Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Game-ebook/dp/B006PW46MA/ref=sr_1_15?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1338292481&sr=1-15

And right now, it’s only 99p for a full-length novel! Grab a bargain.

Many thanks to my wonderful friend and colleague, K D. It’s always a pleasure to visit her – and thank you for reading.

 

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Fairy Tale Filth and Lush Illustrations: Janine Ashbless Shares the Story Behind Named and Shamed

It’s a pleasure to be here on your blog, K D!

I thought I’d talk a bit about Tansy, the heroine of my filthy fairytale novel Named and Shamed.

Here’s the backcover blurb:

Once upon a time, a naughty girl called Tansy stole a very precious manuscript from a kindly antiquarian. But all of the world’s ancient and powerful magic, lost for centuries, has returned…and now there is much more at stake than a few sheets of parchment!

Thus begins a rude and rugged fairytale the likes of which you NEVER read when you were little! Poor Tansy is led though the most pleasurable trials and the most shameful tribulations as her quest unfolds before her. Orgasmic joy and abject humiliation are laid upon Tansy in equal measure as she straddles the two worlds of magic and man.

And this is how she describes herself:

“Most men get no further than some reference to Amazons as they paw at me, because at six feet tall and with a rack like this I can’t help but invite the comparison. I’ll never be skinny but I keep active, which means I end up with a taut waist, but I’m still plenty curvy in other places. Add to that my red hair — not an insipid ginger but ferociously bright metallic waves — and pale skin that explodes into freckles all over my shoulders and arms at the first touch of summer, and I get a lot of attention from a certain type of guy. Not necessarily the sort of guy I want, to be honest. Pretty much every man who goes for me has this submission fantasy and they want me to wrestle them to the floor or crack a whip over their ass. Goddamn. That’s not my preference. I want someone who can look me in the eye and not be intimidated. I want a guy who can make me feel overwhelmed.”

Tansy isn’t anything like my previous female protagonists. When I started writing this book I was told to aim at a default male readership – whereas normally I write for publishers whose readership is at least nominally female. So I had to give this some thought. Named and Shamed is a BDSM novel, and Tansy spends the plot discovering quite how deep her submissive kink goes, and how much punishment and humiliation she can take. In a normal stroke-novel it’d be easy to make her a blank cipher, a passive innocent who is used as a pawn by the dominants.

But that wouldn’t work for my fairytale plot. Tansy is not at all passive. She’s a woman on quest. She’s out to save herself, and her friend and lovers. She has to be intelligent and decisive and incredibly courageous, or else she’s going to get nowhere. She can’t be a cipher. And yet she has to enjoy the most extreme and challenging submission: whippings, bondage, public humiliation, and rough sex with two, three, or more (including some monstrously non-human). Stuff that, let’s face it, most normal people couldn’t cope with.

So I’m not saying Tansy is a realistic female character. Far from it: she’s my porn ideal of what a woman should be like. She loves sex, of course. But more than that, she’s got no emotional baggage. Despite a kink for public degradation, she’s not messed up, or insecure, or needy. If she makes a mistake and screws things up – which she certainly does – she always takes responsibility for fixing things afterwards. Kindly, and intensely protective of her cousin Gail, she is quite capable of love, but she has no emotional dependence on anyone else for her own validation. She’s completely self-actualized. She can do almost anything – and have almost anything done to her – and it doesn’t cause any damage to her ego, any loss of self-worth.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tansy.” The Gaffer lifted his gaze from an unabashed consideration of my boobs and looked me in the eye. Without blinking, he added. “You’ve done well for yourself there boy. She’s pretty. Magnificent knockers.”

It was a test, of sorts. A calculated slap in the face, to see how I would react. I flushed and giggled, dropping my gaze coyly. I could feel my pussy swelling at the compliment. Because it was a compliment — degrading and crude and offensive, it was still an acknowledgement of my desirability by the most important man in the room. I got it. In times of trouble, scared people look for leaders. It just so happens that the sort of guy who wants to be a leader is usually a tool of the first order, but that doesn’t matter to them. Even if he chooses to impose some sort of weird elder-tree cult it doesn’t matter, as long as he leads. I knew that with a single word from this man I could be on my knees in this back bar, tugging open his flies and sucking his cock while he sipped his pint with a complacent smirk and everyone looked  on.

I wet my lips.

Her resilience, both physical and mental, is off the scale. She regrets nothing, and she can’t be broken – at least, not for more than a night.

It’s not a bad ideal. I admire her, actually.

Though I’ve got to admit I never met a woman like her.

😉

xxx

Janine

www.janineashbless.blogspot.com

http://sweetmeatspress.com/

Buy links:

http://1eroticaebooks.com/erotica/named-and-shamed/prod_2896.html

http://1placeforromance.com/erotica/named-and-shamed/prod_7834.html

These e-versions include 19 illustrations by John LaChatte, as does the paperback:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Named-Shamed-Janine-Ashbless/dp/0957003781/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1337623893&sr=1-3

http://www.amazon.com/Named-Shamed-Janine-Ashbless/dp/0957003781/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1337623953&sr=1-1

Named and Shamed is also available on Kindle, but without interior illustrations.

 

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How Reviews Spurred Lily Harlem On to Write Stockholm Surrender

It’s a pleasure to welcome the lovely Lily Harlem back to A Hopeful Romantic with the story behind her sizzling novel, Stockholm Surrender. Welcome Lily!

Be they good or bad reviews are part of the territory when you’re an author. I am happy to say that the vast majority of reviews for my books are positive and it completely thrills me to know readers have enjoyed my stories.

One book however seemed to create a bit of a Marmite effect. People either loved it or hated it. It is a free short read that came out at Ellora’s Cave a couple of years ago called Stockholm Seduction. It is about a Penny Tipping, the British Foreign Ministers daughter, enjoying a gap year in Australia. She is kidnapped by a hunky surfer and…

Actually it’s probably easier for you to read the blurb –

I was having a fabulous extended gap year in Oz. Sun, sea, sand and seriously hot surfers rolling in on every wave. Mmm, what could possibly be better?

But then I was taken…taken against my will. Stolen like a prized object. I was tied up, held for ransom. I didn’t know if I would survive, if I would walk away alive. And then, to top it all off, I was tortured in the sweetest, most delicious, most sensual way imaginable.

That was when I realized my fun down under had only just begun.

To be honest I didn’t think much more about this story after it was released. It was just a taster for people to hear my voice and sample my style without having to pay for it.

Then about a year ago I was wandering around Amazon looking for something to read when I came across reviews for Stockholm Seduction. I was surprised to find that it either had the ick factor or the ‘more’ factor. Here are a couple of reader comments from either side of that spectrum.

“A woman is kidnapped, and decides to have sex with her captor? The message in this short story is disturbing on so many levels.”

And…

“I was panting to know what happened when he found her next! I’ve read romantic short stories before, and they always left me hollow, but Lily’s left me craving. I would definitely recommend this e-book if you want a quick read with steamy scenes, hot men, and women that know what they want and are not ashamed to admit it. I get excited shivers thinking what the author could do with a full length book!”

This got me really thinking and I headed over to Goodreads to see what readers had said there. The overwhelming comments were to the effect of “this story is too short” and “where is the rest?”

So me being me, I got my naughty mind whirring and over the next few weeks waited to see if the characters would talk to me again. I wanted desperately to oblige the people who had taken the time to comment on the book and give them the rest of the novel.

Luckily Penny and Ty were desperate to have their steamy tale told and soon it was evolving in my mind and flowing from my fingertips at a rate of knots.

But like all novels there are stumbling blocks. In this case I had the basics of the plot already written, not only that those facts were published, out there in the world. There was absolutely nothing I could do to undo anything. The delete button was non-existent for that crucial first part of the novel.

So what I had was Ty Winters trying to free his friend James Hill from Thai prison by holding Penny Tipping to ransom. He wanted a better human rights lawyer and her influential father to help release him from a harsh sentence for a minor crime. From the word go Penny and Ty have a very strong attraction to one another that Ty in particular struggles with – that was never part of his kidnapping plan. What I did do in the original short story that helped immensely though was leave it on a Terminator-type line “I’ll be back.” So that was a nice springboard to leap off of in chapter one.

One of the reasons I enjoyed writing this so much was because I got to send Ty and Penny to Bangkok one of my most favourite cities. The colours, the vibrancy, the smells and the people really flooded my head again as I wrote this section of the story and I hope my love of Bangkok comes across in my descriptions.

James was an interesting character, who when I wrote the initial short story wasn’t someone I thought I would ever meet. He was just a name plucked out of the air and a reason for Ty to take Penny. But then, writing Stockholm Surrender, I had to meet him. I was very glad I did, he was quite a challenge. Why? Because I needed him to be a suitable best mate for adrenaline-junkie Ty, which meant he too had to have a streak of wildness about him, but at the same time having a death penalty hanging over his head and living in hell for so long had to have some effect on him. By that I mean physically, emotionally and sexually. Luckily Penny was incredibly empathetic to his vulnerability and masculinity and the scenes with James flowed deliciously onto the page.

So I guess, now that the novel to accompany Stockholm Seduction is out there I have to say a big thank you to everyone who asked for more from Penny and Ty. Because if they hadn’t taken the time to poke me into action this story would never have been written. And that folks, is the story behind the story.

Thanks so much for having me today KD, its always fun to come and hang out on your blog. Below are more details for Stockholm Surrender.

Blurb for Stockholm Surrender

My soul was in turmoil. Ty Winters had not only kidnapped me in Oz, my heartstoppingly gorgeous surfer had also stoked my darkest desires, bringing all my fantasies to the surface. So Oxford wasn’t going well. Until, that is, he creeped from the shadows—desperate, sexy, dangerous and wanting a piece of me, literally!

He teased me with a taste of his carnal skills, leaving me burning with frustration then forced to stand by as he fought for his beliefs using my lust-addled body as his most powerful weapon.

Oh, my kidnapper knew just how to get what he wanted, giving me just what I needed, while hiding our relationship from the British foreign minister and police. Because sometimes two people are meant to be, even in the most unconventional circumstances and twisted situations. We could fight the world, but we couldn’t fight our passion.

Reader Advisory: This book contains a steamy scene where Ty shares Penny with his best mate—lucky girl!

Excerpt from Stockholm Surrender

With my window letting in the sounds of the city, I spread my notes on my bed and tapped away on my netbook. The history of law was everyone’s most hated subject, but I knew the sooner I tackled it the better. Leaving it to the last minute would be crazy.

Eventually though, as darkness claimed the hall grounds and the lampposts flicked on, I decided to call it a day, or rather a night. Saved my work and flopped back on the bed. I would just stretch out for ten minutes before I got up to change and get ready for sleep.

But sleep wouldn’t wait, and before I knew it I felt myself drifting. Falling into a dark, dreamy world. My eyes were heavy, my breathing shallow. I let myself go—float into a world of thoughts and nothingness, white clouds and black sleep.

“Shh!”

There was tightness over my mouth and pressure over the entire length of my body. Whatever it was had squeezed the air from my lungs and was pinning me to the bed. I opened my eyes, panicked.

“Shh!” Ty said, his eyes wide and his nose practically touching mine.

Hastily, I nodded. Oh my god. Was I dreaming or was Ty really here, lying on the bed with me?

He hesitated then lifted his gloved hand from my mouth just a fraction. “You are going to keep quiet, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I whispered.

This was no dream.

“Good, ’cause I don’t want that copper who’s stalking you to come crashing in.”

“He won’t. I promise.”

Ty lifted up, reached over and shut the window. With a snap, he drew the curtains then pulled off his gloves.

“Is that how you got in?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Really, up the tree, and…” Something was different. I realized what it was. “Why has the lamppost gone off?”

“I tripped it, didn’t want anyone seeing me breaking into the foreign minister’s daughter’s bedroom.” He grinned naughtily.

“And did they?”

“No, I shouldn’t think so, not at three in the morning.”

“Three?” I glanced at my bedside clock. Sure enough, it was three a.m.

He chuckled and lay back down next to me. “I guess you got carried away with your studies. I used to be like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, don’t look so shocked, I have a first in sports science.” He touched his finger to the bald patch of my scalp and a rush of heated desire poured through me. “I know all about the human body,” he whispered, “and exactly what it needs to stay healthy and happy and…satisfied.”

Unable to suppress a whimper of pure lust, I slid my hand over his shoulders and tugged him closer. “I wish you would damn well give me some of the satisfaction I need.”

“You’re always so demanding, and so…damn…horny.” He touched his lips to mine, soft and gentle, his tongue peeking into my mouth and past my teeth to tangle and turn and explore. “Oh Jesus, Penny, you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Good, because that’s how you make me feel.”

He stroked down the column of my neck, dipping his fingertip into the hollow of my throat and down my sternum. “I want you so bad,” he said, “but there is something we have to do before we can be together.”

“What?” What could he possibly need to do other than put on a damn condom? His erection was growing by the second against my hip. All I needed was for him to get inside me like he had before. Thrust and grind and do that thing to my clit he was so bloody good at. Just the thought of it had me shivering.

“Wait,” he said, reaching behind himself.

Suddenly a tight strip of tape slapped over my mouth. Gone was the luscious kissing of moments ago and in its place foul plastic stickiness.

“Mmmph!” I managed, trying to project massive indignation with my eyes.

“It won’t take long.”

I tried to reach for the tape, intent on pulling it off, but he had both my hands harnessed in just one of his.

“Sit.” He pulled me upright, tugging at my sweater. “We need this off.”

His breaths were rapid and hot on my face as he moved his hands quickly and efficiently, freeing my arms from the sweater before swiftly dragging it over my head.

“Ah fuck, white,” he said, staring at my pretty lace bra. It had delicate scallop details over the rise of my small, pert breasts and a tiny pale blue flower in the center between the cups. “White is my very favorite.” His voice was almost wistful.

“Mmmph!” I mumbled again. Why did I have this tape on? I said I wouldn’t shout for Roger. Why didn’t he believe me?

“Shh, shh, just for a minute, baby, just for a couple of minutes.” He stood, still holding my wrists tight, and nudged the straight-backed chair out from under my desk with his foot. “Up, come on, sit on here, quickly.” He glanced at the door.

As soon as I was on the chair he was behind me, wrapping what felt like cord around my wrists. I yanked but the binding was tight and attached me to the rungs.

“It’s okay,” he soothed by my ear, his breath warm and tickly. “It’s okay.” He slid his hand over my bare shoulder, tracing the strap of my bra right down to the cup.

I arched my spine, needing his touch so desperately. Ty in my fantasies would have his hands all over me by now. Ty in my fantasies would already be ravishing me until we were both desperately trying to muffle our screams and panting for breath.

But this wasn’t fantasy, this was real. Ty was really here, really tying me up again. And for god’s sake, why was this stuff on my mouth?

He poked his fingers into my bra and tweaked my nipple. I whimpered and fluttered my eyes shut. His caress sent sinful licks of wantonness raging though me.

“Damn it, Ty,” he muttered. “Think of James.” His body heat left me and the next thing I knew he was pulling off my jeans, exposing my tiny white thong. “Ah, fucking hell, what are you trying to do to me?” he groaned, wearing a very real expression of pain.

I couldn’t answer.

He reached back onto the bed for a small, brown leather rucksack. He delved into it and pulled out a newspaper and a camera.

“It’s yesterday’s,” he said. “But your father will still get the message.” He tilted his head and smirked lopsidedly. “The message that I can get to you whenever I want, wherever I want, bodyguard or no bodyguard.” Carefully he laid the newspaper on my lap. It was sort of folded up onto my belly so that the headline was visible. He took a step back and held up a small, silver digital camera. “I would say smile,” he said with a shrug, “but I guess it’s not appropriate.”

Appropriate!

That was the goddamn understatement of the year. Dad was really going to flip at this one. Me in my underwear, gagged, tied to a chair in my room with Roger snoozing outside, just a few feet away. The shit was really going to hit the fan. Big-time.

I heard the camera click once then Ty was back next to me. He folded up the paper and shoved it along with the camera into his bag.

“Mmmph,” I said, shifting on the chair.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he said, bending over me and peeling off the tape. It tugged and stung as it pulled my skin. “Baby, I’m sorry, I just needed to do that.” He shoved the tape into his bag too.

“For fuck’s sake,” I hissed. “That stuff is foul and what the hell are you playing at?”

He stooped and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I allowed my mouth to become pliant and open, let him in to search and gently tease my tongue with his in slow, languid movements. He tasted divine, like fresh water, a hint of vanilla and turned-on man. As he kissed me reverently, indulgently, my irritation with him dissolved as though it were a spoonful of sugar in hot tea. This was what I’d been waiting for, this moment with Ty. The man I shouldn’t want but did. The man whose tenacity and loyalty I admired even though everyone else thought he was a brutish thug who should be hung, drawn and quartered.

“Ty,” I gasped. “Please, untie me.”

“Mmm, in a minute. I kinda like having you at my mercy.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He smiled, slow and sexy. “It gives me all kinds of dirty ideas.”

Buy links:

Stockholm Seduction – FREE – http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8620-stockholm-seduction.aspx

Stockholm Surrender – http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9743-stockholm-surrender.aspx

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk, a crazy cat and an old dog. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. She won the Lovehoney award for erotic fiction in 2009 and has been writing non-stop ever since and is now multi-published by both US and UK houses as well as featuring in numerous anthologies.

Where you can fine Lily Harlem

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/lily_harlem

Facebook http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Lily-Harlem/100003519563064

Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lily-Harlem-author-page/200182030094568

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

 

 

 

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