Emerald Talks about SAFE, Her New Collection of Erotic Stories

November 4, 2014Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releases1001 Nights Press, book launch, Emerald, erotic story collection, erotica, guest blogger, SafeK D Grace

Thanks so much for having me today, KD—I’m so delighted to be back at A Hopeful Romantic talking a bit about my brand new short story collection, Safe!

When I first submitted a short story collection for consideration to 1001 Nights Press earlier this year, it was as a manuscript that contained seventeen stories, six of which were new and exclusive to the collection. I knew the book as a whole would be considered erotica and would not be marketable as erotic romance. This was mainly because of how a few of the stories ended.

As I’ve shared now a number of places, I interpreted Sharazade, the proprietor of 1001 Nights, as coming back with the suggestion that the manuscript be divided into two books. Essentially, upon our agreeing to do so, what I had submitted became two collections divided generally along the line between the erotic romance pieces and the erotica pieces. If… Then: a collection of erotic romance stories was released in September and has ten stories, including two of the new ones the original manuscript contained. (I got to go back and add three previously published stories I had pulled from the full manuscript due to length concerns. Yay!) Safe: a collection of erotic stories came out October 15 and also comprises ten stories, four of which are the remaining new tales from the original manuscript.

I feel much appreciation for Sharazade’s recognizing that the manuscript I submitted may work better as two books. Since I knew the intention with which I had written each story was along a similar line that made them all fit together for me, it is true that the outward tone and direction of some of the stories seemed different from a number of the others. Basically, I feel Sharazade was correct that the volume could be pretty distinctly divided between the erotica and the erotic romance stories.

I was and am aware that the audiences for erotic romance and erotica are different, and while I have seen the term “erotica” seem to be used as synonymous with “erotic romance,” I personally see the two as distinct and consider such a conflation a misnomer.

Probably the most tangible difference distinguishing erotic romance from erotica, as I see it, is the requirement of a happy ending. In my understanding, anything labeled “romance” (of whatever sub-genre of romance it is) must have the requisite happy ending. I completely understand this requirement of the romance genre as one that both draws readers and that readers expect. I also respect it and feel no desire to mislead anyone into reading something that may not interest her/him/them. I am delighted that I have a collection specifically for a romance-reading audience that embraces the personal connection and conscious commitment of romantic relationship in the context of erotic writing.

More subtly, I actually perceive the happy ending requirement of romance to be a happy ending of a rather specific type: that in which the main characters, who have been or are romantically involved, are implied to continue or remain that way (contentedly!) for the foreseeable future. Characters in my erotica, for example, may well end up happy as well, but it’s often had little to nothing to do with any kind of ongoing or developing relationship between them. Their sexual interaction may have left them quite content, but they may feel no desire to continue that interaction or develop a romantic connection. Many stories I’ve written have had these kinds of endings, and there are some with this type in Safe as well.

Perhaps most atypical of much of the contemporary erotica I have read, however, Safe also has stories that do not have particularly “happy endings” as they have often seemed defined in literature. And here there may be some readers of erotica as well who digress in preference from this occurrence. To some readers, as I have interpreted it, erotica is for purposes of arousal, and some don’t consider a serious or poignant ending to lend itself to such.

I can understand that perspective—though I will admit I don’t share it. For me, erotica (both reading and writing it) is for more than arousal. In writing erotic fiction, I aim to explore the human condition, connection, experience, and evolution via the force and energy of sexuality (one that is, it seems to me, to be reckoned with!). I experience Safe as an embodiment of my aim to do this.

As such, there are a few stories in <>Safe that do not end neatly and/or with contentment and satisfaction. At no point did I write anything for Safe (or do I feel compelled to write anything in general) that ends tragically or wrenchingly simply for shock value. That is not at all the point. Rather, the stories “end” as the closing of what we have glimpsed of the characters lives, and sometimes what appears to be going on in those may encompass challenge, pain, and/or loss.

I don’t want to give the impression that all the stories in Safe end poignantly—they don’t (from my perspective, anyway!). A few of them, as I see it, do. Personally, I understand the desire to read something I know is going to turn out a way that won’t likely elicit a challenging emotion in me. I have sought out that kind of work in the past and felt that way often. As an author, however, I also appreciate exploring what appears to me to authentically reflect the facets of human experience that come through me as I’m working. As I see it, that is one of the fundamental purposes of art.

Ultimately, the aspiration in me in writing every story in Safe was to explore and display the power of sexuality to heal, connect, awaken, and elicit growth. This is how I see the purpose and power of sexuality in life, and as an author of erotica, that is what I am aiming to write. Sometimes the result may seem uplifting, and sometimes it may seem painful. Sometimes, as in life, if we pay a particular level of attention, we may see both at once.

—
Blurb for Safe: a collection of erotic stories:
In this collection of ten erotic stories, attraction, heat, and connection serve as catalysts to take characters to places of climax, revelation, transformation, and abiding – sometimes all at once. From hypnotizing dreams to life-changing tragedies to moving on after the end of a relationship, Safe explores the power of sexuality in its myriad forms and manifestations.

“To Make It That Way” shows older woman Cole taking young Zack on a seductive and wild ride, exposing him not only to a considerable sexual education but to more subtle life lessons as well. “Power Over Power” channels the intense energy of a martial arts session, while “Hers to Keep” offers Leslie a surprising lesson in so-called “casual” sex.

Polyamory, masturbation, and BDSM all make appearances in <>Safe, as do scorching vanilla sex and budding romance. These stories reveal how eros has the power to bring us back to ourselves, propelling us ever deeper into the journeys of both sex and life.

—
Excerpt from “To Make It That Way” in Safe:

Cole’s eyes glinted. “Sex,” she said, “has the potential to encompass and represent all human experience. All the nuances, all the understood and not understood, may be experienced through sex. And that means there’s a whole realm of it we’re not going to understand. It’s beyond our common forms of understanding.” Her eyes bore into me like steel. “But it’s not beyond our experiencing.”

After a moment she broke her gaze, and I noticed I started breathing again. I also noticed my cock was rock-hard.

“The key,” she said, lifting her water glass from the end table near where we stood, “is in awareness, respect, openness, authenticity. We don’t have to understand it all, as long as we’re aware of ourselves. As long as we respect our partners. As long as we approach with openness what is happening between us. And as long as we are authentic in our dealings, our experiences, our examinations. If something is uncomfortable, examine that and see what it teaches you. If it feels inauthentic, stop doing it. ”

“That wouldn’t account for a lot of abusive situations where sex is concerned,” I countered. “Lots of people may think they’re aware of and like what they’re doing, but it hurts someone else or is even criminal.”

“Yes,” she agreed, setting her water glass back down. “But that means at least one of those pieces is missing.”

I pondered that, as she didn’t appear inclined to expound. She moved toward me and caught my mouth with hers, and I caught my breath at the suddenness, at the heat that zipped through me like lightning at her touch. She backed me up against the couch until I fell onto it, my hands groping her breasts. Pulling my cock out of my jeans, Cole dropped her head and sucked with fervor, going after my cock like she was possessed, as though she was taking something from it she needed.

With a final pump, she paused, running her tongue up the length of my shaft. Her cat-like eyes gazed up at me, hard lust and a hint of something else glowing in them. Abruptly she stood up on the couch, towering over me as she pulled off her shirt and stepped out of her jeans. Underneath them she wore an impeccable red lingerie set, glimmering bra, thong, and garter belt with rhinestones embedded around the rims and matching stockings. I caught my breath.

Cole didn’t need lingerie, but she sure knew how to use it.

—
SAFE BUY LINKS:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble

iBooks
Kobo
Scribd

—
About Emerald:
Emerald is an erotic fiction author whose short stories have been featured or are forthcoming in anthologies published by Cleis Press, Mischief, Logical-Lust, and Sweetmeats Press. She is an advocate for sexual freedom, reproductive rights, and the rights of sex workers, and she serves as a Facebook group moderator and assistant newsletter editor for Marketing for Romance Writers (MFRW). Her first single-author books, If…Then: a collection of erotic romance stories and Safe: a collection of erotic stories, are out now from 1001 Nights Press.

Emerald links:
Website: http://TheGreenLightDistrict.org
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Emerald_theGLD
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/EmeraldAuthor
Google+: http://plus.google.com/+Emeraldauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/652859.Emerald
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/emerald
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/EmeraldAuthor/

Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester: A Story of Power and Class in the Edwardian Country House

November 3, 2014Guest Bloggercheri colburn, erotic anthology, erotica, fifty shades of green, guest blogger, slave nanoK D Grace

My story in Fifty Shades of Green, “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Walled Garden,” gets its inspiration from the English landed gentry and their country house.

At the basic level walled gardens are a common feature of the English country house, though they are rather more traditional in their choice of rose gardens and formal flower beds than Lady Sally’s more risqué version with its poisonous and prickly plants. It struck me that a walled garden would make a great setting for a BDSM gardening story because it’s an enclosed area offering privacy where somebody could get away with anything, as Lady Sally does in the story!

There is also a genre of writing, both novels and screenplays for film and television, associated with the Edwardian country house. Why the Edwardian period in particular? Well, readers have the hindsight the characters cannot possess because they know a generation of husbands, brothers and sons are about to get slaughtered in the trenches of the Somme and other First World War battlefields. This gives the period an added poignancy. It also means the Edwardian period was the last hurrah for the English aristocracy. Ok, it may have taken many more years before we finally shook off our fore-lock tugging submission to the landed gentry but after the First World War things could never quite be the same again for the aristocracy.

So, into this world steps my character, the strict dominatrix Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester (the name is an amalgamation of two real East Yorkshire landed families). On one level the story is pure kinky fun in which my over-the-top kick-ass dominatrix reinvents her walled garden as an outdoor play area to punish her submissive slaves.

But Lady Sally is also a parody of the country house genre and the behaviour of the aristocracy during perhaps the last period when they could get away with anything. She dominates, punishes, humiliates and screws her gardener, Jack Buckingham, just as the English aristocracy has screwed us for centuries. Yet, in a strange way, Jack is complicit in his submission and humiliation. He really wants it and rather enjoys being dominated, which I think mirrors our fascination for the aristocracy.

In a short comic scene in the story, Lady Sally gets excited about introducing a water feature into her garden and threatens to piss all over her gardener, which is pretty much what the ruling class has been doing to us, and still does—though it’s more likely to be a banker or global corporation these days doing the pissing.

Yes, of course the story is still written as a piece of kinky BDSM fun, but it’s also a story about power, both personal and class.

Lady Sally features in other short stories by me. “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Silk Merchant of Samarkand” appears in Beltane Fire (Xcite Books) and another story, “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Automaton Horse,” has been accepted for publication.

—Slave Nano

Excerpt from Fifty Shades of Green, “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Walled Garden”

Jack felt more comfortable now the conversation had turned to gardening, “What did you have in mind, your ladyship—formal flower beds, a rose garden, a vegetable garden, exotic fruits? There are lots of possibilities for a walled garden.”

“Ah, well, there you are, Mr. Buckingham, I do have some quite specific ideas for the space. Perhaps it would be easier to take a look and I can talk you through some of my plans.”

As they made their way to the walled garden they must have appeared a strange group, Jack Buckingham in his tweed jacket, waistcoat, silk cravat and bowler hat perched on his curly brown hair along with the transvestite French maid and, leading the way, the formidable figure of Lady Sally, her hour-glass figure restrained in skin-tight rubber.

She unlocked the door in the wall and opened it. The garden was in a sorry state. Jack reflected that it would take a lot of work to clear before he could even begin any planting. But it was an excellent space and he could see it had enormous potential.

“The plans, Victoria,” ordered Lady Sally, at which command her maid produced a roll of papers from within her petticoats.

Lady Sally laid them out on a tree stump and began to expound, pointing to her sketches.

“In this corner here I want colour. I thought some foxgloves against the back of the wall here, probably in purple and then some oleander in clusters of red, pink and white just here. And a laburnum tree in the corner there. And I want some deadly nightshade. I simply love belladonna and its black berries, dark as night, just like me!”

Jack laughed, “You’d best be careful, Lady Sally—all of those plants are poisonous.”

“Oh yes, of course, I know that!”

“You want them to be poisonous?”

“Absolutely. I understand digesting small quantities can increase the heart rate and some even have hallucinogenic qualities. Do you have any further suggestions, Mr. Buckingham?”

The gardener was a little taken aback but fortunately knew something about which flowers had poisonous qualities, “Well, narcissus would be good or lily of the valley and chrysanthemum. But you have to be careful with chrysanths because even touching them can cause itching and irritation.”

“Really, how fascinating. Well, I simply must have some chrysanthemum then . . . some orange and yellow will be good too.”

Jack was intrigued and not a little alarmed at Lady Sally’s predilections.

“Here,” she said pointing along another length of the wall, “I want a willow tree and then some bamboo, cane and rattan. Can you obtain some mature plants as I’ll want to use them straight away?”

“Use them?”

Lady Sally took up her whip, flexing it in her hands, and fixed him in the eye, silently conveying her intent for this area of the garden.

“Oh, I see, yes. Well, I should be able to get some mature ones.”

“Different sizes and flexibility? I’ll need them all to hand, you see.”

“Well, yes, I know an excellent market garden where I source anything rare or unusual. They’ve never let me down.”

“The mature tree in the centre of the lawn can stay but then I would like a small vegetable garden over there with carrots and courgettes.”

“Just those, wouldn’t you like more? I can lay out a proper vegetable garden for you.”

“No, that will suffice. I’m only looking for vegetables of a certain shape. And I want some chilli plants as well.”

“That’s not a problem, your ladyship. I can propagate them in a greenhouse and transfer the fully grown plants into your garden.”

“Excellent. Now, over here,” Lady Sally said gesturing toward another corner, “I don’t want to clear all of the nettles, you must leave a largish patch of them and the thistles too. And then what I’d really like is some giant hogweed against the wall, a holly bush and some poison ivy . . . but it must be poison ivy.”

“It’s not native to England, your ladyship, but I can find some and see if it’ll take. It causes a painful itch, though, and the sap from hogweed stings. I got some on my hand once and it really burnt.”

“Oh, excellent. I’m most pleased, Mr. Buckingham. You clearly know your plants and wildflowers. Just imagine when some of these come into contact with the most sensitive parts of the male anatomy.”

“You’ll certainly have your slaves squealing then,” chuckled Victoria.

“Indeed. Oh, just talking about it is making me excited. I’m so impatient now. I can hardly wait.”

“Sorry, Lady Sally, but do you mean to use all of these?”

“Why, yes, of course! Have you not realised, Mr. Buckingham, I want the walled garden for my outdoor play area. It will be my little garden of pain!”

Blurb and buy links

Fifty Shades of Green is a garden of naughty delights!
Within our pages you’ll discover:
– Virile gods and their mortal conquests.
– A community garden’s secret (and very dirty) fertility ritual.
– An Edwardian dominatrix living out her sadistic garden fantasies.
– Student/teacher lessons in horticultural hotness.
– Young lovers seeking the help of green witches.
– A beautiful, blind priest who helps an injured traveler.
. . . and so much more.

Peek inside the garden gate.

(You know you want to.)

A dozen racy tales await.

Fifty Shades of Green is a collection of twelve delicious and erotic short stories with gardening themes. What you’ll find in these pages is hotter than the hottest pepper on the Scoville index of heat! And smart, not smutty. Well . . . maybe a little smutty.

To Buy Fifty Shades of Green (it’s on sale, just for you):

Amazon.com UK

Amazon.com US

Author Bio and Link

Slave Nano is a writer of erotic stories with dark and exotic content often drawing on the themes of female supremacy, BDSM and fetish, frequently in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings. His short stories and novellas have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica and in Smutters and Coming Together anthologies. His full-length erotic novel, Adventures in Fetishland, a bdsm/fetish reinvention of Alice in Wonderland, was published by Xcite Books in 2012. You can find out more about Slave Nano and his writing on his website at http://www.slavenano.co.uk

FREE Sample Stories!

To sample two free stories from Fifty Shades of Green visit our Garden Shorts website.

If you sign up for our newsletter you will be sent “Seed” (our sexy story about a community garden’s secret fertility ritual).

To read “Phallus Impudicus,” (a tale about the horny god Pan’s visit with a lonely gardener) just click on the Fifty Shades SAMPLE! tab

The Word I Just Can’t Say …

November 2, 2014Blog, Inspirationmy writing process, psychology, Saying NO, writingK D Grace

Perhaps there’s something wrong with my mouth, the way my tongue touches the hard palate, or the way my lips purse. Perhaps it’s a genetic defect, though I don’t recall either my father or my mother having the problem. But then again it could have skipped a generation, I suppose. Maybe my mother dropped me on my head when I was a baby …

On the other hand, it could be some sort of psychological problem. Maybe I need to seek help. Maybe Freud would say I got stuck in one of the early stages of childhood development … oral? … anal? (Oh knock it off! I can see where your naughty minds are going with that one ☺) Possibly there’s a 12-step group that deals with my problem, or maybe there are psychologists who specialize in my particular affliction.

Note to self: Check online for self-help books on topic.

Well, it’s no good speculating when the damage is done. I suppose now all I can really do is treat the symptoms — the waking up in the middle of the night with my heart racing, the excess drinking of coffee, the panic attacks when I sit down at my laptop to work in the morning and realize just how much I have to accomplish that day, the associated inability to do housework, my inclination to hide out for days with no companionship other than my laptop.

I have a sneaking suspicion that my affliction is common among writers, though when I’m suffering from a particularly bad bout, I feel like I’m the only one in the world who just can’t do it.

I feel like I’m the only one in the world who just can’t say NO!

Oh, believe me, I’ve tried, but I break out in a cold sweat of fear that this might just be the one time when I absolutely, under no circumstances, should refuse the possibility that this could be the best opportunity ever. So I say YES!

The way I see it in my fevered little mind, saying no shuts doors. Saying no means that whatever might have resulted from the simple uttering of the YES word, whatever adventures I might have had, I’ve just refused with a simple two-letter word. I’m a firm believer that the more doors we walk through, the more doors are opened to us. That’s all positive, that’s all a good thing, but just how many doors can one person walk through before they become a twitching, neurotic heap, hunching bleary-eyed over their laptop? … er … wait a minute. Why does that sound so familiar?

I suppose as NaNoWriMo is now well and truly upon us, there’ll be a lot of people wondering if they should have said no. Maybe it’s a Pavlovian thing. Yes means possibilities. Yes means new opportunities. No means the doors are shut to those possibilities. Saying yes generates a sense of excitement, a sense of anticipation of new adventures, of new plots and new characters. But doesn’t saying NO also open the door to other, different possibilities? Saying no means that I could actually have time to give my house a proper cleaning. Saying no means I might have time to do girlie things like shopping for pretty stuff and practical stuff I’ve put off shopping for because I said YES too many times. Saying no means I could do some much-needed redecorating and renovating. Saying no means I might have time to take up a new hobby, to take an online course, to learn to speak Italian …

But to me, saying no means feeling lazy and unproductive. OK, I get that those feelings are just a part of my inherently neurotic self, but I feel them nonetheless. And if I’m honest, I can’t neglect that the doors that saying NO would open are often doors that I’m a little bit scared to walk through. Better the devil you know … Instead, I say YES, and I feel the exuberant panic that’s a cross between jumping up and down and punching my fist in the air in triumph and excitement and banging my head on the desk in the cold sweat of fear as I moan, ‘Ohmygod! What have I done?!?!?!’

I’m in that scary exciting, run away screaming, writing like a madwoman against tight deadlines space at the moment. Grace Marshall is frantically writing Interviewing Wade to come out in February. KD Grace is butting in to write her first ever M/M novella, which just also happens to be her
first ever vampire story. To Rome with Lust is less than a month from its release date, with a two-week blog tour hard on its heels – posts still to be written … I’m right in the middle of the Lakeland Witches blog tour, and there’s a tongue-in-cheek billionaire novella waiting in the wings. All this in the midst of feeling bereaved that Demon Interrupted had now had its online HEA, and I’ll miss writing sexy, romantic stories for you on my blog. Do I dare say YES to another serial??? *Twitch, shiver, anticipate*

I’ll admit my reasons for sharing my NO-rosis with you are a bit mercenary. I needed a blog post for today and I couldn’t say NO! Also, I’ve read that it helps to talk about our neuroses. Isn’t that the first step to recovery? Doesn’t that mean I might be more likely to say NO next time???

… No, not really?

Didn’t think so …

Grand Finale of DEMON INTERRUPTED: A Lakeland Witches Story

October 31, 2014BlogDemon Interrupted finale, erotica, giveaways, Lakeland Witches serial, paranormal erotica, things that go hump in the nightK D Grace

Wow! Time for a double-barrelled happy ending! Today is the last day of I Things that Go Hump on the Night and the grand finale, final instalment of Demon Interrupted. What a fabulous month it’s been, with fabulous authors, fantastic giveaways and lots of sizzling paranormal fun!

After you’ve read the final chapter of Demon Interrupted and cheered Ferris and Elaine on to sexy sizzling times, make sure you check out the fabulous giveaways and take advantage of lots of chances to win on the rafflecopter at the end of this post.

AAAAAND!

I’m especially excited to add the icing on the paranormal cake, the Halloween treat for your trick, a fabulous chance to win FREE TICKETS to Smut Manchester! Here’s How!

Smut Manchester is an Erotica Authors & Readers Smutty Social Get-Together sponsored by Voluptasse, taking place at Manchester Conference Centre on the 15th November 2014, it’s a chance for erotica readers and writers to gather, share ideas and interact with one another in a friendly smutty environment. With Workshops, Reading Slams, Presentations, Book Stall, Erotic Tombola and much more we have something for you all.Tickets are available at http://smutmcr.eventbrite.co.uk and you can save 31% on them TODAY ONLY by using the promo code ‘hump’ but that’s not all one lucky commentor will get TWO free tickets to the event.

Smut Manchester 2014 sponsored by Voluptasse

smutmcr.eventbrite.co.uk

Also, if you’ve missed any of the exciting posts and chances to win from Things that Go Hump in the Night‘s month long celebration of all things paranormal, follow this link to Day One and enjoy all 31 Things that Go Hump in the night!

Not ready to stop the paranormal partying? Be sure to catch my blog tour for the Lakeland Witches Trilogy. I’m over at the ARE Cafe today talking ghosts, druids and haunted pubs.

Now grab another cuppa and settle back for the final instalment of Demon Interrupted.

If you’ve missed the previous episodes of Demon Interrupted, find the links at the bottom of this instalment.

Enjoy Chapter sixteen, and thanks for joining the fun with this Work in Progress. If you want to read more about the Elemental Coven’s sexy adventures, check out the Lakeland Witches Trilogy: Body Temperature and Rising, Riding the Ether and Elemental Fire. Happy, reading!

Chapter 17

The Remaking

Tim Meriwether and Lucia sat at the kitchen table looking out into the rose garden where Ferris sat next to Cassandra in companionable silence. ‘At least Cassandra can get him out into the fresh air and sunshine. I thought Anderson and I were going to have to drag him out kicking and screaming.’

‘He mourns his Elaine deeply,’ Lucia said. ‘I would not have thought such suffering possible in a soul rider.’

They watched the two in silence for a long moment, then Tim spoke around a mouthful of Fiori’s homemade shortbread. ‘Lucia, let me get this straight, demons can travel in time, and you went back to get Ferris?’

‘Some demons can travel in time, but not all,’ Lucia said. ‘Riders can, I can, but usually don’t. Frankly there’s little in the past that interests me. Time is much less relevant to us than it is to mortals. We simply are, wherever and whenever we are. But Ferris was summoned by a mortal, and her magic was strong enough to call him to her. It could have simply pissed him off, in which case he would have considered her fair game and ridden her soul until she was insane. But she intrigued him, and then he fell in love with her.’ She shook her head. ‘Honestly, whoever heard of a demon falling in love?’

Tim held gaze over his cup of tea. ‘Whoever heard of a demon having a daughter?’ He nodded out the window to where Cassandra and Ferris sat side by side on a stone bench.

‘Indeed,’ the demon replied.

‘And whoever heard of a demon showing compassion for another demon? Tara asked from where she stood at the counter pouring steaming water from the kettle over a cup of Fiori’s famous hot chocolate mix. She had just come in from the garden with a trug of baby carrots and ripe tomatoes along with a bunch of coriander for the aubergine curry Fiori was planning for dinner.

Lucia’s robe flamed as though it were offended ‘I was simply being practical. Not being tied to time, and letting strong emotions, in fact the strongest emotion of all control him meant that Ferris could wreak havoc in any time during history he wanted. Few beings are more dangerous than an enraged soul rider. There are consequences to such actions, and mortals – no matter how weak they are – are not to be trifled with when it comes to their survival.

Tim nodded. ‘They hung Elaine, after all.’

Lucia glared at him. ‘And you think justice was served?’

‘I didn’t say that. Farringdon sounded like he deserved what he got, but still …’

‘Any crime that was committed has surely been paid for long ago,’ Tara said, leaning against the counter with the cup steaming between her hands. ‘Elaine hung for a murder she didn’t commit and Ferris has paid a very high price for his part in Farringdon’s death.’

‘I’m not saying he hasn’t,’ Tim said. ‘I’m just agreeing with what Lucia said about only being able to push mortals so far before they push back.’

Lucia offered him a look that she might have reserved for a very stupid child, then waved a dismissing hand. ‘Be that as it may, Ferris is not exactly subject to justice as you know it, Mr. Meriwether. That being the case, I could not allow Ferris to rain down his grief and rage on untold thousands. And I needed a protector for Cassandra. I needed someone to keep her safe from Deacon. I believe it’s what you mortals call a win-win situation.’

‘And you trusted a rampaging soul rider to take care of your daughter?’ Tim raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘The pact we made, the magic it entailed ensured that Ferris would not remember his past until that pact was fulfilled. In fact he asked to live in the moment with only the memories he needed to care for and protect Cassandra and to oversee Storm Croft and her inheritance for her. I gave him the magic he needed as he needed it. I made his life peaceful and very bland so that he would also not attract Cassandra’s attention as a succubus. But I could not keep his past from him forever. I never imagined that he would refuse his memories, that he would mentally block them when our pact was finished. But he is a soul rider, those powers are his. He simply used them on himself.’

‘He’s still waiting for Elaine,’ Tim said, ‘He’s convinced she’ll come to him.’

‘There’s no doubt she guided him safely through his ordeal when no one else could,’ Lucia said. ‘Whether she was real or only a memory that he dreamed, I cannot say.’

‘Poor bastard,’ Tim said. ‘I nearly lost my mind when I thought I’d lose Marie to Deacon.’

‘The heart is a powerful thing,’ Lucia replied. ‘And if anything it’s even more powerful for demons, who must live without that organ. I cannot say whether or not he’ll heal. I can say that he would have died, and most likely everyone at Elemental Cottage as well if he had not faced his past.’

‘Are we expecting company?’ Alice came into the kitchen and stripped off her walking boots, face flushed from tromping the high fells.

‘Not that I know of,’ Tara said. ‘Why?’

‘Well, there’s a strange woman standing out in the front garden. She’s just … standing there looking sort of lost.’ Alice slipped into a pair of trainers with ragged laces. ‘I’ll go see what she wants.’

***

Ferris had always appreciated Cassandra’s ability to be comfortable with silence. She never had been much for unnecessary conversation, and he had never quite known how to make small talk. Besides all the words had been said. The memories of his past were so much sharper than he wanted them to be, and the serrated edge of them constantly cut into him like it all happened only yesterday. And really, it might as well have.

‘Lucia warned me it would be like this if I let her bring me into the future as she did,’ he said, gently squeezing Cassandra’s hand, feeling the effervescing comfort of her magic. ‘She said it was best I dealt with the grief and the pain in a normal timeline, but even she knew how I would have dealt with it after the destruction at High Moor.’ He turned to face her. ‘And I fear I would have been so much worse than Deacon ever thought of being.’

If Cassandra were shocked by his words, she didn’t show it. ‘When Anderson was lost in the Ether, and I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again, I had a focus for my rage. Goddess only knows what I would have done if I hadn’t.’

‘A focus, yes. That’s what Lucia brought when she gave you into my care. You were my soul reason for existence, caring for you and your inheritance, easing your suffering as best I could. She would have never given back my memories had she believed you hadn’t healed me’ He shook his head. ‘Oh the pain is still there as though I held Elaine’s lifeless body in my arms only yesterday, but the rage is gone. The rage couldn’t heal me, the rage could only dishonour the memory of what Elaine was to me. But caring for you, seeing how you suffered and knowing that I could do little but be there when you needed me, that was so much more important than my revenge on ignorant people who didn’t understand and had nothing to do with what happened. And now, my dear Cassandra, you’ve returned the favour.’ He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.’

There was a soft clearing of a throat. ‘Demon, have you forgotten me already after only three hundred years?’

Ferris was certain his heart stopped. His breath stopped. Time stopped. He feared to turn, he feared that he might discover he was only dreaming or worse, that Lucia had been wrong and he was hallucinating. But the way Cassandra squeezed his hand and the catch of her breath could only mean that … Dear Goddess, let it mean … Slowly, holding his emotions in check just in case this was but a dream, he turned, and surely a vision from the Mother herself could not have been more lovely.

There she stood, between Tara and Lucia. Elaine. And still he feared he only dreamed her. ‘Ferris, you have a guest.’ Tara’s voice was laced with empathy. ‘She’s come a long way and waited a long time to be with you.’ She laid her hand gently on Elaine’s shoulder and nodded toward the bench. Still he didn’t move.

Cassandra released a sigh, then stood, kissed him on the cheek and moved to Tara’s side. And still he did not move. ‘If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me.’ His voice cracked and he struggled to gain control, to take in the reality of the woman who stood before him.

‘No dream, Ferris,’ Tara said.

‘And no hallucination,’ Lucia added. ‘Elaine is here. She’s real, just as you said she was, just as you always knew she was.’

Elaine offered a smile bright enough to shame the sun. ‘Well, technically I’m dead, but you are a demon, my dear Ferris, and you live among ghost riders. You know that death is just an inconvenience, that there are ways of overcoming it.’ She moved forward, slowly, carefully, almost as though she feared he would bolt. She was dressed simply in a summer skirt of flowered cotton and a blue t-shirt. Her silken dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She sat down next to him on the bench, not taking her eyes off him, but not touching him either. ‘I summoned you once, my dear rider, and we made a bargain. You fulfilled your end of that bargain. Surely you didn’t think that I would not uphold mine.’ The sparkle in her eyes went from mischief to misty, and she swallowed emotion. ‘I have waited a very long time to fulfil my promise to you.’

In his peripheral vision, Ferris could see Tara quietly motioning the others to the house.

He reached out a hand to stroke Elaine’s cheek, and then drew it back, shyly. ‘I am sorry, my dear little witch, but I can not now easily part with Farringdon’s vessel.’

She grabbed his fingers, kissed them and pulled them back to her cheek. ‘I no longer see Patrick Farringdon, when I look at that vessel, my dear Ferris. I see the one who wore it in a heroic effort to save me, the one who wore it in a tragic effort to avenge me, the one who gave up vengeance to serve love.’ She glanced over her shoulder just as Cassandra disappeared into the house. ‘The succubus is worthy of that love, and so are you, my darling rider.’ She leaned in and brushed his lips with hers, and he pulled her to him with a sigh that was near a sob, and the heart of him was near exploding at the feel of her solid and whole and warm in his embrace again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke softly against his ear. ‘The Fire Demon has told me your plight. I came to you as soon as you were able to receive me.’

‘When you came to me at Storm Croft, you didn’t know me, nor I you.’

‘That was but a hallucination, my darling, your unconscious trying to help free you, to bring you back to me. It broke my heart to see you so.’

He had so many questions for her, so much he wanted to talk about, and yet he found himself at a loss for words. For a long time they sat silently just holding one another, then he pulled her onto his lap. ‘I can’t get close enough to you, my little witch.’

She offered a mischievous laugh and wriggled playfully against him. ‘There are ways of getting still closer, my dear rider, ways I seem to recall, in which you are quite well versed.’ She quirked her head toward Elemental Cottage. ‘And I’m sure you’ve learned many more methods of getting closer living among practitioners of sex magic, as you do.’ With her eyes locked on his, she began to slowly shift and grind her luscious bottom against him. ‘I have been waiting for the pleasure of your flesh for three hundred years, demon.’ She moved just enough that she could slide her hands down to fumble with his fly.

‘Even in this flesh?’ He caught his breath as she worried her fingers inside his boxers and stroked his erection.

‘Any flesh you wear, my demon, will service me very well. Of this I’m certain.’ With that she guided his hand up under her shirt and laid it between her breasts. ‘I am yours, demon, body and soul, just as I promised – all of my flesh, all of my heart, all that I am is yours to use as you will.

He wound a fingers in her ponytail and pulled her into a deep kiss, speaking against her lips, between hungry darts and probings of his tongue, ‘And use you, I will, my little witch. Just as I promised. Oh yes, how I shall use you.’

She shifted until she straddled him, the thin crotch of her panties unable to hold back the humid heat of her raking and sliding against his partially covered cock. ‘Don’t keep me waiting, rider, I’ve waited long enough.’ She shoved and tugged at his trousers and boxers, and he lifted his arse and nearly unseated her onto the grass, as he pushed them down until his bare butt settled onto stone. When he was free, his cock pressed at full attention between them, she stood, her eyes locked on his, and slipped out of her panties. Then she lifted her skirt, giving him an exquisite view of her tight dark curls just before her hand slid down to splay herself open for him. Then she climbed back onto his lap and sheathed him.

He sucked a harsh breath that sounded as though she had gut punched him. ‘Dear Goddess, Elaine, I can hardly contain myself in your impatience. Please, I want to make it last.’
She bit his lower lip and cupped his face in her hands so that he couldn’t look away from her. ‘I belong to you, demon. That was our bargain. And I know that it’s in your power to make it last lifetimes, but right now, I starve for you. I need you to fill me.’

In truth, he could no more refuse her now than he could all those years ago when she summoned him into the overgrown garden. His need for her was as great as hers for him, and there was no denying how that fact delighted him. Her grip on him was fierce as he clutched at her hips to push deeper into her. With a move that was like water flowing, she lifted the t-shirt off over her head so that he could see her breasts, ruby-crowned, dancing and swaying in the tight space between them. She wore no bra. Frantically she clawed open his shirt, ripping buttons off in her desperation to him, the get flesh against flesh. Then as he shrugged it off his shoulders, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her grip on his cock still further. The press of her full breasts against his sharpened nipples, nearly sent him over the edge as they battled for breathing space, pressed tightly to each other, grinding and shifting until the world contracted around them. Ferris didn’t know when his demon had overwhelmed Farringdon’s vessel, but as he lowered Elaine onto the ground, it was his demon hands that cupped the rounded pillows of her bottom, and it was his demon flesh that rode her deep into the soft summer grass, thrusting his need into her with a lust that he wasn’t sure even the demon could contain.

She gasped her surprise as the rider overwhelmed the human vessel, then the gasp became a sob, her eyes wide and bright and deep enough to swallow him whole. ‘You are my demon,’ she grunted in a desperate breath. ‘You are so much larger than the vessel you wear, and I love all of you.’

‘And I love you, my little witch. You have held my essence safe in your heart for three hundred years, a burden I would have never wished upon you, and now you’ve come home to me. I am undone. I am truly undone.’

‘No my love.’ She wrapped her legs around his hips in a grip that told him she was near her release. ‘You are not undone. You are remade. And so am I.’ Then she clutched him in her orgasm with a grip so tight that he believed with all of his heart she would never let him go and, as he convulsed deep inside her, he felt as though he had come home at last and he had brought her home with him to a place where there was magic and laughter and family. His family, and now hers.

The End

Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain!

Don’t forget to take full advantage of the fantastic Things that Go Hump in the Night giveaway rafflecopter. And thanks SO much for helping me celebrate all things paranormal!

And don’t forget to take advantage of the great Hump discount for tickets to Smut Manchester and comment for your chance to win FREE TICKETS!

DEMON INTERRUPTED

(from the beginning)

Chapter 1 Demon Interrupted: Perchance to Dream.

Chapter 2 Demon Interrupted: A Chat with a Demon

Chapter 3 Demon Interrupted: Enter the Shadows

Chapter 4 Demon Interrupted: Dark Chrysalis

Chapter 5 Demon Interrupted: The Empty Spaces in Between

Chapter 6 Beneath the Weight of Shadow

Chapter 7 Possessions

Chapter 8 Necessities and Inconveniences

Chapter 9 Demon Dreams

Chapter 10 Backlash

Chapter 11 Chasing the Dream

Chapter 12 The Summoning

Chapter 13 Tenuous Threads

Chapter 14 Corporeal

Chapter 15 The Vessel

Chapter 16 The Undoing

*****

GIVEAWAY!

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The Meat Hall by Lily Harlem (@lily_harlem)

October 30, 2014Guest Bloggerbite mark, claw mark, Ellora's Cave, erotic romance, erotica, guest blogger, Lily Harlem, paranormal, shifters, supernatural, things that go hump in the night, vampiresK D Grace

thingsthatgohump300x200 Thank you Kd for inviting me to Things That Go Bump In The Night it’s great to be here at this spooky time of year. I’ve brought with me vampires and shifters from my new novels Bite Mark and Claw Mark to get today’s party started. They’re pretty hard to handle, certainly temperamental and I’ve also found them to be unpredictable and demanding, but hey ho, that’s just what happens when you’re a writer and you dream up these super-human beings to play with!

Aimery is the first vampire to be introduced in Bite Mark (read this one first!). He’s a vampire lawyer and our heroine, Beatrice initially sees him walking in Smithfield Meat Market with his nose high as though enjoying the smell of the blood lingering in the air. I liked the idea of that, when I started writing, a vampire who hangs out where there is the scent of blood the way we’d hang out in a flowery summer garden enjoy the aromas.

old smithfield market Smithfield Market is a real place in London, UK that’s been trading meat and meat products for over 800 years. I’ve been here on several occasions as I used to work nearby. It’s not a place for ladies though, it’s rough and tough and the guys here start work at 3 a.m. and shut up their stalls by lunchtime. There is bartering and arguing and money is referred to in an unusual way – £20 is a Score, £25 is a Pony, £100 is a Ton, £500 is a Monkey, and £1000 is a Grand. All good fun! I haven’t been inside for several years now, though the sounds and the smells and the images of huge hunks of meat being sold to restaurants and shops has stayed with me, even though it was only somewhere I passed through. Some places are like that, don’t you think, they stay with you.

It was walking past the market one morning a few years ago that I got the idea for these novels. It was early December, the cold was nipping my cheeks and fingers and the air was thick with fog – pea soup Londoner’s call it. There weren’t many people around but those that were appeared to be eerie shadows in the distance, every footstep intensified by the dampness all around. I was glad to duck into a nearby pub that opens early to cater for the market workers and get a nice pot of tea. But still, me being me, my imagination set to working and Bite Mark was born as I stared out of the window at the misty world.

Bite Mark ends on a cliff hanger which is where the sexy shifters come in. I hadn’t planned this but because of the introduction of The Carlton Pack (a group of mysterious wolves the London based vampires are fearful of) there was more story to tell and I had to tell it.

butchers hook and cleaver I hope you’ll check out Bite Mark and Claw Mark and meet Aimery, Ryle, Isaac and Caleb. They’re not afraid to take what they want and will fight for what they need and Bea is the lucky lady caught up in all of that. And if you ever get to Smithfield Market, do pop into The Butcher’s Hook and Cleaver for a little tipple and listen to the raucous chatter. You too might be inspired!

Lily x

Oh, and if you’re around on Halloween then check out the Brit Babes Shivers and Tingles Facebook Party! It’s going to be great fun with contests, gossip and sexy pictures and steamy excerpts from all The Brit Babes.

Bite Mark

Life in London as a butcher girl is hard enough, but when my best friend Denny went missing it became miserable. So stumbling into the Worshipful Company of the Ancient Order while searching for him was like a breath of fresh air. Especially because sexy, sophisticated Aimery promised to help me.

But Aimery’s friend Ryle wanted in on the action. My head was spinning, my body reacting to theirs whenever they were around. But I had questions: What was their obsession with my rare blood type? How did they always appear when I needed them? And how old were they?

Learning the truth about my lovers brought new fears and delights. They could take me higher than I’d ever gone before, show me pleasures I’d never imagined and were prepared to kill to protect me. Being mortal had never been so much erotic fun—or so deliciously dangerous.

Claw Mark

This book is a sequel to Bite Mark; to ensure full enjoyment of this book, please read Bite Mark first.

Being married to two sexy vampires is as exciting as it is dangerous. One minute I’m on top of the world, the next I’m running for my life. But it’s okay with Aimery and Ryle at my side—they’ve sworn to love and protect me and keep me satisfied until I’m old and tray.

But when everything crashes down, literally, I can see no way out of the darkness—death my best option. Until two unusual men come bounding to my aid.

Gentle Caleb and prickly Isaac have secrets. They’re full of passion, desire, love and lust and their isolated lives are weaved with mystery. But I know what they are. I’m also craving some serious satisfying, a distraction from my dilemma, and it seems these guys are up for the job.

Will my life always be turbulent, terrifying and tempting beyond belief? Nothing is certain in a world of vampires and shifters.

Buy Links

Bite Mark

Ellora’s Cave | Amazon | Amazon UK | Goodreads

Claw Mark

Amazon | Amazon UK | Goodreads

Lily Bio

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, best-selling author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora’s Cave, HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeats Press. Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release in 2012.

Her novel, Breathe You In, a super-sexy romance with a twist that will not only heat you up but stay with you for years to come, was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2013.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Lily Links
Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/
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