Tabitha Rayne Talks about Feral Pheromones & her Exciting New Novel, Taking Flight

It’s totally my pleasure to have the multi-talented Tabitha Rayne back on my blog today talking about her new novel, Taking Flight, the exciting sequel to her fabulous dystopian novel, A Clockwork Butterfly. And today Tabitha is talking about one of my favourite topics — our delicious animal lust. Welcome Tabitha!

Feral pheromones

Tabitha RayneTaking FlightWhat a joy to be at Kd’s house to play! I adore Kd’s writing, especially as she has a deep love of our animalistic side which comes over so beautifully in her stories.

I’m a big fan of this sensual feral side of our sexual nature too and love exploring it through erotica. In my new book, I have stripped my main characters of all their creature comforts and sent them out into the wild to survive with nature. I loved experiencing it with them and how getting back to just living in the moment can free up time for lots of alfresco loving, but more than that, it can free the mind to trip out on big crazy orgasmic sex journeys too – (oh yes)!

My story delves into the physicality of sex, the vital role of pheromones and chemistry but also the spirituality of sex and the unbreakable bonds it can create. Basically it’s a celebration of love while the world is thrown into a dystopian turmoil.

I wanted to share one of my favourite parts of the story where my leading couple stumbles upon another couple indulging in some outdoor BDSM loving. I’m very interested in the unexpected reactions your body can bring. Oh the joy of feeling confused by your body!

Thanks again Kd x x

Taking Flight Excerpt:

‘Shh.’ He reached back, halting her with his palm, ‘Listen.’ In the distance was a rhythmic cracking sound, biting into the air. Almost like a twig snapping underfoot but not quite. It was followed every now and then by a whimper. Deborah froze. The acoustics of the forest were oppressive yet oddly echoed the noise. It seemed to ricochet off the bark of the tree trunks and bounce right to them. She could tell Marcus was intrigued and he started moving, more cautiously this time, palming the branches as he went, being careful not to let them spring back in her face. As they moved closer to the sound, there was a small incline to climb. They got down on their bellies and crawled to the brow, which descended into a natural birch-lined amphitheatre. Deborah held her breath and stared at the sight before her.

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4Between two trees, a naked woman was tied spread-eagled. Lash marks were visible over her back and thighs. Her long hair tumbled about her shoulders as she let her head fall back. A scruffy-looking man wearing only woodcutter’s breeches stood slightly to the side of her, wielding a switch of what looked to Deborah to be red hazel. As they watched, the man sliced the switch through the air and whipped the woman soundly on the buttocks. She let out a throaty groan and Deborah went to spring forward to demand what was going on. No sooner had she twitched the first muscle than Marcus pounced on top of her, flattening her to the ground and holding her mouth closed. She breathed angrily though her nose as they kept watching the scene of torture.

‘Shh,’ Marcus growled into her ear. ‘Just watch.’ It was all she could do, pinned to the forest floor with her face aimed at the show. She was bewildered and all her instincts wanted to free the poor woman who was being so savagely beaten. Struggling, she tried to wriggle out of Marcus’ grip, but he held her fast and whispered again, ‘I mean it, watch …’

She relaxed her body, knowing the battle would be lost anyway and stared. The woman was swaying in what must have been agony on the ropes which bit into her wrists and ankles. The weight of Marcus on her back stifled Deborah’s breath. The whip lashed the woman once more. When the cry came, Deborah was shocked to feel Marcus pressing his pelvis into her behind. He was obviously enjoying the scene and his cock began to stir and harden, pressing into her flesh. Deborah didn’t know what to feel and was suddenly furious as he stared to slowly hump her bottom through their joint layers of clothing. She was about to scream out and throw him off when she saw the tied woman look round to her captor. Her eyes were sparkling and the most dazzling smile crossed her face. He let the cane fall to his side for a moment and leant in to kiss her, long and sensuously, while his free hand reached down between her legs and began to massage her pussy and arse. The woman responded by pressing her hips backwards, exposing as much of her sex to his advances as she could while tied to a tree. Marcus’ cock stiffened further as the man began to finger the woman slowly with two thick digits. Deborah saw that the fingers of the man and the inner thighs of the woman were slick with desire, and she started to feel the wet tingling in her own pussy…

Tabitha Rayne Taking Flight ACB promo small

Taking Flight by Tabitha Rayne

“Find me at the meeting point. We are more than the physical.”

Four generations from now, toxins are ravaging the land and the future of mankind is in peril. The surviving men are being rounded up and taken to holding facilities. Research scientist, Dr Deborah Regan is hoping to stabilise the decreasing male population before her lover, Marcus becomes one of those taken away.

When the authorities come looking for Marcus, Deborah abandons her research to go on the run with her lover. They flee to the forests where they stumble across a couple who are intent on finding an ultimate sexual union where at the point of climax their spirits break free from their bodies and unite. Plunged into a life of lust and survival, Deborah soon realises she can easily slip into this trancelike state and she and Marcus set out to create a transcendent bond of their own. Can they achieve the ultimate unity before fate separates them for good?

An erotic dystopian fantasy following a young couple trying to elude capture and separation.

The prequel to A Clockwork Butterfly.

In a dying world – is love the only means of true survival?

Buy Links for Taking Flight

AmazonUK

Amazon.Com

Buy links for A Clockwork Butterfly

AmazonUKHYPERLINK “http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-Clockwork-Butterfly-ebook/dp/B008BYHJCO/” 

AmazonUS

Tiny snippet

“If we part ways,” he started but Deborah pressed a finger to his lips, she didn’t want to hear it, speaking it might make it true. He pushed her hand from his face and held it at his chest, his woozy gaze fixed on hers. “Deborah, if we part ways, I’ll find you. I’ll find you at the meeting point. Do everything you can to come. We are more than the physical.”

Bio:

Tabitha Rayne has been told she is quirky, lovely and kinky – not necessarily in that order or by the same person. She writes erotic romance and as long as there’s a love scene – she’ll explore any genre.

Her short stories are included in anthologies from Xcite, Oysters & Chocolate, Cleis, Ravenous Romance, Mischief, and House of Erotica. She has novels with Beachwalk Press and Xcite Books.

TabithaRayne.co.uk

Facebook
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Brit Babes Blog

Amazon Author Page UK
Amazon Author Page US – provides an up to date book list
GoodreadsHYPERLINK “http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4563479.Tabitha_Rayne” 

 

 

The Exhibition is Now Available!

TE new coverI’m very excited to announce the release of the eBook version of The Exhibition, book three in Grace Marshall’s Executive Decisions Trilogy! At last, the trilogy is complete. So here’s a sneak peak of The Exhibition, with new thrills and dark twists and turns and, always, always lots of sizzling romance.

And, just in case you’ve missed out on what’s going on with Dee and Ellis and their friends in the first two books, I’ve added a little catch-up as well. Enjoy!

The Exhibition Blurb:

Successful NYC gallery owner, Stacie Emerson, is ex-fiancée to one Thorne brother and ex-wife to the other. Though the three have made peace, Ellison Thorne’s friend, wildlife photographer, Harris Walker, still doesn’t like her. When Stacie convinces Harris to exhibit his work for the opening of her new gallery she never intended to include him in her other more hazardous plans. But when those plans draw the attention of dangerous business tycoon, Terrance Jamison, Harris comes to her aid. In the shadow of a threat only Stacie understands, can she dare let Harris into her life and make room for love?

The Exhibition Excerpt:

Outside someone shouted, ‘Hastings, check the crappers.’

Before Harris knew what hit him, Stacie pulled him into the cubicle at the other end of the row and locked the door behind him talking in a fast whisper. ‘Sorry about this. Not very professional, I know, but I promised to do my best to keep us out of jail, and I’m thinking groping in the ladies’ room’s not what this raid’s all about.’ The words were barely out of her mouth before she launched herself at him lips first. Damn it; he wanted to be mad at her. They were about to go to jail, for fuck sake! But instead of giving her a piece of his mind, he kissed her right back, hard, and felt her yield and open, and his tongue was in heaven sparing with hers, tasting, testing, thrusting. He found himself hoping that the inevitable arrest would wait until after he got his fill of Stacie Emerson, and that could take a while. She felt way better than she had even in his fantasies, and when his badly-behaving hands moved down to cup her magnificent bottom and pull her closer, she returned the favour and gave his ass a good grope. As though that gave him permission to explore, he slid anxious fingers inside her trousers wriggling down past a miniscule thong to cup an impossibly soft, impossibly firm buttock that gave a muscular clench in his hand, forcing her hips forward until she couldn’t possibly miss the press of his appreciative hard-on straining his jeans to get closer to her.

In the hall the noise got louder and the door burst open.

She had just managed a good firm stroke to the front of his trousers that had his full attention and then some, when a heavy-handed knock on the door caused her to yelp, and he nearly fell back onto the commode.

‘All right, you two, tuck it in, and come on out.’

Download your eBook copy here:

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

Catching Up with Ellis and Dee and the Gang:

Xcite must reads for Oct Grace MarshallAn Executive Decision

(Book 1)

Sex in the contract – it’s the only way super-focused, over-worked CEO, Ellison Thorne, is ever going to get laid. That’s what his retiring business partner and secret match-maker, Beverly Neumann, thinks. She’s convinced no-strings, stress-free sex in certain employee contracts would raise productivity and minimize stress — perfect for a busy executive like Ellis. But she’s joking, right?

Enter her hand-picked replacement, Dee Henning. Young, hungry, gifted, Dee is the queen of no time for sex. When negotiations on a major project break down, and Dee and Ellis end up in each other’s arms, the Executive Sex Clause suddenly becomes more than a joke. In fact hot executive sex just might be the ultimate secret weapon for success. But secrets seldom remain secret, and Dee and Ellis soon learn there’s no such thing as no-strings where the heart is concerned.

Available from:

eBook
Amazon UK
Amazon US 
Barnes & Noble
iBooks
Xcite Books

Print
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
The Book Depository
Xcite Books

IC new coverIdentity Crisis

(Book 2)

PR rep extraordinaire, Kendra Davis, is elated when she gets the chance to work for her hero, reclusive, romance novelist, Tess Delaney. Her elation is short-lived when she discovers that Tess is none other than Garrett Thorne, the bad-boy brother of business tycoon and eco-warrior, Ellison Thorne, who is engaged to her best friend, Dee Henning. Kendra blames Garrett for the comedy of errors that nearly destroyed their relationship. Garrett doesn’t like Kendra either, but he’s desperate. His alter-ego, Tess has been nominated for the prestigious Golden Kiss Award. No one knows who Tess really is, and he needs Kendra to play Tess for the awards.

When Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, the two unite to protect her identity. With Kendra, the body and Garrett the soul of Tess Delaney, is there room in this strange ménage for romance? Can a woman who doesn’t exist understand their hearts even better than they do?

Available from:

eBook:

Xcite Books
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
iBooks
Kobobooks.com

Print:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
The Book Depository

 

 

Mean Girls by Lucy Felthouse

Mean GirlsAdele Blackthorne is a big girl, a curvy chick. She knows it, and she’s been picked on all her life because of it. But she’s gotten to the stage where she doesn’t care. She may be Rubenesque, but she’s healthy, too. Much healthier than the mean girls at the leisure center that point and stare and say spiteful things about her. Adele rises above it all, and simply enjoys her secretive glances at the center’s hunky lifeguard, Oliver.

As the bullying of Adele becomes worse, Oliver finds it increasingly difficult not to intervene. He doesn’t want to get into trouble with work, but equally he can’t stand to see Adele treated in such a horrible way. Especially since he doesn’t agree that she’s fat and unattractive. He thinks she’s a seriously sexy woman, and would like to get to know her better. Much better.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/mean-girls/

*****

Excerpt:

As usual, Adele Blackthorne felt the weight of gazes on her as she walked from the changing room to the steps to get into the swimming pool. She was used to it by now, and had learned not to react, to just carry on as though she hadn’t noticed people staring and not-so-subtly pointing at her.

With a polite nod to Oliver, the lifeguard, as she passed him, Adele was grateful for his much more favorable reaction. If he thought she resembled a beached whale, he hid it much better than everyone else did. The warmth in his eyes as he nodded back even looked genuine. But she had no illusions, he probably slagged her off the moment he got into the staffroom, or home, talking about the fat woman who went swimming three times a week without fail. But for now, she’d pretend he didn’t. Pretend he thought she was sexy, and wanted to get lost in her abundant curves. God knows she’d like him to.

It was true, she was a big girl and she was most definitely aware of it. Ever since she’d gotten to the age where her excess weight could no longer be called puppy fat, she’d tried to do something about it. Every diet under the sun, ridiculous amounts of exercise… nothing worked. Adele had grown so depressed in her teens that she’d become bulimic. Naturally, she’d lost some weight that way, but she’d also made herself so ill that she’d had to be hospitalized. It had terrified the life out of her, and ever since, she’d resolved that she’d much rather be healthy than skinny.

Which was why she visited her local leisure center three times a week. She used the gym and sauna, and went swimming. And every single time she went, she’d catch someone gawping at her. But because of the years she’d spent—especially at school—being called all the names under the sun, she’d developed an incredibly thick skin. She was happy and healthy—so healthy in fact that she could probably beat all of those skinny bitches at a swimming race. Of course she never offered, never called anyone out on their rudeness and ignorance, but it made her feel better to know that she was fitter and much more polite than them.

Slipping into the fast lane, she settled her goggles carefully into position—she hated getting water in her eyes—then lifted her legs to rest the bottoms of her feet against the end of the pool. Looking at the clock on the wall that counted seconds, she waited until the hand reached the top, then pushed off from the side and launched herself into the lane. It was quiet, so she had this section of the pool to herself. Her arms cut through the water, her legs flapped wildly and she did ten laps without losing any speed. Emerging from the water, she checked the clock again and was pleased to note she’d beaten her previous time.

She was just about to start another ten laps, when she heard voices from the other side of the pool. Voices that clearly forgot how well they carried on water. It was as though they were right next to her.

“God, I’m surprised all the water doesn’t jump out of the pool when she gets in. And the way she swims—she’ll cause a tidal wave one of these days.”

The spiteful words were followed by a trio of sniggers, and Adele gritted her teeth. Part of her wished that she could create a bloody tidal wave, so it would sweep those bitches under water and drown them. The other part of her tsked at the thought. Ideas like that made her just as bad as them, just as unpleasant, just as cowardly.

Because they were cowardly—the way they spoke about her behind her back proved that. If they ever passed her somewhere in the leisure center or its car park, they never said anything, not one word. They’d just scurry away as fast as they could, then titter when they thought she was out of earshot. She hoped that just one time, someone would say something to her face, so she could retaliate, speak up for herself. There was no way she’d start anything—she didn’t want to add confrontational to the list of faults that the mean girls had obviously compiled about her.

Sucking in a deep breath, Adele launched into another ten laps, allowing the chilly water and the exertion of powering through it to burn away her irritation. Because that’s all it was—irritation. She wasn’t angry. Anger was too powerful an emotion, and one that was totally wasted on those ignorant women. She almost felt sorry for them, actually. If they had nothing better to do than to stare at her and slag her off all the time, then they clearly had very dull lives.

The thought cheered her considerably and when she completed her twentieth lap, she lay her forearms on the edge of the pool and hoiked herself up. Her back was pressed against the side, and from here she had a perfect view of the rest of the pool. Tugging her goggles down so they hung around her neck, she had a damn good look at everyone else. The small children and their guardians in the kids’ pool right at the other end of the enormous hall, the old people who swum so slowly as they chatted that she was surprised they stayed afloat, the relentless movement of the man in the medium-speed lane and, of course, the mean girls who were in the same sort of position she was, but at the side of the pool rather than the end. The side which faced the lifeguard station.

Adele narrowed her eyes and watched them—the two waif-like blondes and a brunette—as they chatted and giggled, and it seemed for a change, not about her. They’d clearly changed the subject since their previous spouting of vitriol. Their focus was very firmly on Oliver as he sat on his lofty perch, surveying the pools before him, ready to jump in should anyone get into trouble. She often toyed with the idea of faking a problem, just to get him into the pool and his strong arms around her. However, she knew that although he’d undoubtedly do his duty and help her, he’d never believe such a strong swimmer would need his assistance. Then he’d lose all respect for her, and probably stop hiding his disdain for her so effectively. And the polite nods and smiles she got from him were the only thing—aside from the center’s top-notch facilities—that made the place bearable. She was sure that if the three witches—a nickname she’d secretly come up with for the women—had their way, there would be a sign on the main doors to the building saying ‘No Fat People Allowed.’

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012, 2013 and 2014 and Best Women’s Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

A Blisse Kiss After Dark: A Perfect Time for Succubus Dreams

Blisse Kisse After Dark 20th Oct 2013I love this time of year when everyone brings out ghosts and witches and pumpkins and tricks and treats. I love it even more this year because it’s time for the fabulous Blisse Kiss After Dark. Yup, it’s a Sunday and there will be snogging! Lots of snogging! BUT this Sunday, the snogging will be of a paranormal nature.

I think it’s really appropriate to kick off the fabulous Spooky Smut in the City blog hop with a hot, magical, paranormal snogathon.

Blisse spookey smut in the cityAnd after that, make sure to check out all the fabulous, spooky-sexy offerings for Spooky Smut in the City clear up to the day itself! From the 21st to the 31st someone different will be inviting you over to their site for a spooky sexy delicious treat, so hope on over, with or without  your costume *oooooh* and enjoy the smut.

BUT to kick off the whole season with a kiss, well lots of kisses, actually, I’ve decided to share a whole naughty, delicious chapter of my paranormal erotic novel, Riding the Ether, with you. Riding the Ether is book two in my paranormal Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy. Sparks fly when a ghost rescues a succubus from certain death, and lust is most definitely in the air. Enjoy!

Blurb for Riding the Ether:

Cassandra Larkin keeps her ravenous and dangerous sexual appetite secret until she seduces Anderson in the mysterious void of the Ether.  Anderson is the sexy, insatiable ghost who can give her exactly what she needs.

But sex is dangerous in a place like the Ether…

When the treacherous demon, Deacon, discovers the truth about the origin of Cassandra’s powerful lust, he plots to use her sex magic for revenge on Tara Stone and the Elemental Coven, who practice their own brand of sex magic.

Cassandra must embrace the lust and sexuality she fears and learn to use its power. Will she stand with Anderson, Tara, and the Elemental Coven against Deacon’s wrath or suffer the loss of friendship, magic and love?

Excerpt for Riding the Ether:

Marie Warren felt a chill crawl up her spine from where she stood over the sink doing the washing up, and she knew she wasn’t alone. But the ghost was upon her before she could fully register her presence. Thinking that it was Lisette, she was about to chide her for sneaking up on her when she turned to find Serina Ravenmoor standing almost on top of her.

Marie jumped back hitting her hip against the edge of the counter. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

Riding the Ether cover image Final‘I’m sorry,’ the ghost stepped back. ‘I’m not a very good judge of distances anymore, but I need you to come with me. Where’s Mr Anderson? He has to come too.’

‘Now why would I want to go with you? And who do you think you are waltzing right into my kitchen like you own the place and –’

‘I know where Cassandra Larkin is, and if you don’t come quickly she’ll die.’

The ghost barley got the words out before Anderson materialized out of nowhere. He ignored Marie and focused on Serina. ‘I felt her leave the Ether just as we were preparing to enter. Do you know where she is?’

She nodded. Please hurry,’ Serina’s eyes welled. ‘I don’t know what happened, but I’m afraid she’ll die.’

‘Then take me to her at once.’

He turned his attention to Marie. ‘I shall send Miss Ravenmoor back with instructions to where we are as soon as I am with Cassandra.’ He didn’t wait for a reply, but vanished and rematerialized next to Serina Ravenmoor in a small dark space, curtained off, barely big enough for the mattress on the floor. Books stacked in avalanches against the wall overflowed into what little space remained. And there beneath a tangled duvet, looking so much like the dead that it twisted his heart, was Cassandra Larkin

‘This is not how I would have wished our first meeting in the flesh, my darling.’ He spoke softly, sinking onto the mattress next to her. Serina watched him as he took her pulse, which was barely there. ‘Has she spoken at all since her return?’

‘Only that she lost Deacon in her nightmare.’

‘My clever darling,’ he brushed the hair away from her pale cheek. ‘Clever and ever so reckless.’

Even without flesh, Serina Ravenmoor trembled with impatience. ‘She’s dying, and you’re the only one who can save her now.’

He would have offered a sharp retort, but the look in the woman’s eyes stopped him.

‘You still don’t know what she is, do you, Mr Anderson, or what she needs.’

Irritation at Serina Ravenmoor rose like fire in his chest. ‘Tell me if you know what she needs, Madame, and do not waste precious time.’

She took a step closer, still holding his gaze. ‘She’s been kind to me. She doesn’t deserve this.’

‘I can tolerate little more, Miss Ravenmoor. I beg of you, speak plainly!’

‘She’s a succubus. And if you want to save her then she’ll need your energy.’ She nodded to the front of his trousers and the seat of his manhood.

‘A succubus?’ He would have laughed at the utter absurdity of such an idea had the circumstances been different, had Miss Ravenmoor’s countenance not been deadly serious. He felt as though the woman had kicked him in the vitals, had ridiculed him in some cruel way by so slandering his beautiful Cassandra. ‘Surely I have not understood your meaning, Madame.’

‘You understand me. Perfectly.’ The little ghost reassured him. ‘And if I weren’t dead, she’d kill me for telling you.’

‘But I had not thought such beings to be more than legend,’ he whispered, feeling his heart race at the thought of the magnificent woman who had bedded him, a creature whose power was even more sexual than his own and far more dangerous. She was a being completely unlike that which the legends and myths had spawned in his imagination.

‘She doesn’t exactly advertise,’ Serina said. ‘I’ve never seen anyone so full of self-loathing.’

Anderson’s heart twisted still further at the very thought that one so exquisite should loath herself. ‘Now that you have said it, I certainly do see how she could be such. When we were together, I would have happily stayed with her, derelict in all other pressing duties, stayed with her and let her take me until I was completely empty of myself.’

‘She would never have let you do that.’ Serina Ravenmoor seemed horrified at the very thought.

Anderson shook his head. ‘No. She would not.’ He laid a hand on the clammy cool of her forehead. ‘Then it is my … It is my seed that she needs to be healed.’ He spoke softly to the Ravenmoor woman.

The ghost shook her head. ‘It’s more than that. Much more. It’s your lust she needs. Your essence. She won’t take from anyone but you, and she may not even take from you now that you’re not in the Ether. It was only there that she felt she could safely control her lust and not do you harm.’

‘She told you this?’

She looked into his eyes, and shook her head. ‘She doesn’t know how much I know, but I often stayed with her when she didn’t realize I was here, watched what she studied, read over her shoulder.’ She shivered and chafed her arms. ‘You know, to pass the time. I doubt you can persuade her to take from you all she’ll need.’

‘Do not you worry, Miss Ravenmoor. I shall persuade her.’ He turned his attention back to the woman lying helplessly on the mattress, and the pull in his heart was nearly unbearable.

‘Go and tell the others where I am. It may be that I have need of them, for I have every intention of giving Cassandra Larkin all that she needs to heal.’

Serina did as he asked, and he was alone with the exquisite woman that, in spite of their intimacy, had hid far more from him that he would have imagined possible. He removed his clothing and slid under the duvet next to her cool flesh, pulling her to him gently, offering her his warmth. And even in her weakened state, the touch of her flesh vibrated over his body so deliciously that the power of his own lust surprised him under the circumstances.

As he gathered her to him, in spite of being reassured by Miss Ravenmoor of what she needed, he feared that even the first brush of a kiss against her lips would be more than she could bear. And yet even in that briefest of contact, the cool of her lips warmed to his touch, and her chest rose with a shudder. For the tiniest of seconds he feared that he had injured her still further, and it was he who could not breathe for the weight of such fear. And then she spoke, and he thought his heart would burst with the relief of it.

‘I’m not dead?’ There was surprise in her voice. And pain.

‘You are most definitely not dead, my darling, nor shall I allow you to pass when I have not yet known the pleasure of your exquisite flesh.’

Her lids fluttered and with what seemed a tremendous effort, her dark eyes opened to gaze upon him, and she forced the slightest of smiles onto parched lips. ‘Anderson, if I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.’

‘It is no dream, my darling. I promise you it is not.’

‘I’m home?’ she forced the words up through the tight muscles of her throat, words that sounded abraded and raw.

He nodded. ‘In the flesh.’

‘And you’re here.’

‘Also in the flesh.’

Her eyes widened and her pulse raced, and in spite of her weakened condition, she tried to rise from the bed. ‘Deacon, is –’

Anderson covered her mouth with his stopping her words, and settled her back on the bed, then he spoke. ‘Deacon is not here in the flesh, thanks to you, my darling.’

She could not hold back the tears of relief, but there was no strength to wipe them away. Anderson did that for her. ‘Sh! my darling, Shshsh. He is not here, and you are safe with me now.’ Perhaps it was the press of his ill-mannered member against her thigh that suddenly brought to her attention the fact that he lay next to her naked and fully aroused. As he feared, it was not a thing that pleased her.

She thrashed weakly. ‘Anderson, you have to go. You can’t be with me here like this. You have to go. Please! You can’t stay. You mustn’t.’

‘Sh!, my darling, shshsh. I will not allow you to send me away.’ He held her until she stopped struggling, then he kissed her again, more insistently. ‘I know who you are, Cassandra,’ he whispered when he pulled away. ‘Why did you not tell me? You insult me to believe I would have thought less of you because of your gift.’ Fearing that her struggles would weaken her further, he wasted no time, but slid his hand down over her mound to ease open her womanhood, sliding a finger carefully down between the folds of her, and she gasped, pulling oxygen into her lungs as though she had only just remembered how to draw breathe. She was surprisingly warm and wet to his touch, and she responded by shifting her hips upward to his probing, only a little, only just, weakened as she was, but the response was there, and it was the response of arousal.

Ever so gently, he pushed back the duvet until her lovely breasts, nearly translucent in the pale light, were exposed, then he nursed at each of her bosoms until her nipples rose to greet his tongue and lips in a delicious caress of their own. With each press of his mouth on her flesh, with each probing of his finger into her wetness, she strengthened, and the feel of her against his body became more and more exquisite, kindling his arousal to a heightening flame, filling him with a sense of well-being and ecstasy that he had only ever felt in high magic. And yet even that paled in comparison to the feel of Cassandra Larkin, naked and needy in his arms.

It was only when he carefully pushed her legs apart and eased himself on top of her that she panicked. ‘You know what I am! Dear Goddess, Anderson,’ she croaked, shoving at him with all the strength she could muster in her still weakened state. ‘If you know what I am, then you know why we can’t do this here. We’re not in the Ether. It’s the only place you’re safe from me. Please.’ Her words became nearly incoherent in her tears, in her weakness. ‘Please don’t do this. I can’t live with the thought of hurting you. You don’t know what I’m capable of.  You don’t know what a monster I am.’ She struggled beneath him, but she was too weak, and he held her, cradled her, careful that his weight was not on her

‘I will hear no more such talk, my darling. You are by no means a monster, and you can take nothing from me that I do not freely give.’ This time he kissed her hard and spoke between the thrustings of his tongue and the suckling of her lips. ‘I have already told you, Cassandra, you cannot harm me, and we will hear no more of this. I will not be denied. You will take what you need from me, all that you need from me until you are sated, until you are healed. I shall hear no argument.’

‘You’re not my boss.’ She tried to shove him with the flat of her hand against his chest. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

He held her hand to his chest and gripped it tightly. ‘Then when you are healed and once more yourself, you may punish me as you see fit for my transgressions, a thought which I relish.’

She wept against his neck, and though she yielded willing to him, she was still weeping when he entered her with the slightest shifting of his hips. It disturbed him deeply that his arousal was such when she was in anguish, but he knew how close she walked to the gateway of death, as only one who has already passed through it could know. And he would not allow her to make that journey no matter how she protested. And she was, indeed, ready for his penetration, slick and dilated with need, need that he understood was now far beyond the simple drive for sexual satisfaction. The satisfaction of such need would make the difference as to whether Cassandra Larkin crossed through that dreaded gateway or woke healthy and strong to breathe the blessed air of the living.’

With the first thrust, her back arched, she gasped for air and her whole body stiffened. For a terrifying second he feared he had hastened the very thing he sought to prevent. By the second thrust, however, Cassandra had the strength to wrap her legs around him. He pulled her to him with a sigh that was almost a sob. ‘Dear woman, do not ever, ever do such a thing to me again. I was desolate without you,’ he whispered against her throat. ‘It cannot be thus again. I could not bear it. Take from me what you need, my love, all that you need. It is the desire of my heart that you do so.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ But even as she spoke she curled her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. ‘You don’t know me. You don’t know what it’s like when I need. When I’m empty, my emptiness is bigger than the void. Oh goddess, Anderson, please don’t let me hurt you.’

‘You shall not harm me, my darling.’ He spoke around the rise of euphoria in his head and the feel that his manhood could never get enough, but this was only his desire for her, he told himself, and even if it were otherwise, even if all that he was she took from him, then it was an exquisite ending to a very long existence. But he would not let it be so for he could not bear the thought of her anguish at such an ending for himself.

It was desperate and deep, her need, like oxygen when it is most needed, like food when meals have been missed, like the filling up of an empty ocean. And she wept even in her passion, wept that she was reduced to such raw need, wept that it was offered to her so freely, wept that if felt so good.

For his part, he was surprised by it all when he had the wit to consider beyond the pleasure of her powerful lust. All the while she took from him, he held his seed, feeling the intense pleasure that one does when the weight of lust rests heavy and tight in ones loins, when every second longer that one may hold off one’s release, the pleasure becomes more exquisite. And it was long in the process of their pleasuring before he became aware that his strength was indeed waning.

She sat atop him head thrown back, pale hair falling wild and tangled around her face. Her lovely bosoms danced with her thrustings. Her dark eyes had grown pale in the rise of her magic, the colour of the sky over Blencathera when it thins to the palest blue before it darkens. The room was awash in the sound of racing water and wind in summer trees, and he could feel himself being pulled into the emptiness of her need, filling it with his very essence, with something far beyond the life force which he had given up long ago.

Her orgasms began as tiny ripples from a place of weakness and grew to ocean waves washing over both of them, cleansing away Deacon’s touch, imprinting upon her flesh Anderson’s lust, and it was at that moment Anderson feared that Cassandra could no longer release him no matter how badly she desired it, that she was beyond herself, and with each thrust that weakened him, she grew stronger. With a shudder of fear that he barely felt in the ecstasy of their sex, he knew that if he could not of his own accord pull back from her at the right moment, then he would, indeed be lost.

But the thought had barely entered the bleariness of his mind before his manhood convulsed mightily and he emptied himself into her, then she fell forward against him gasping for breath, and pressing her lips to his.

‘There now, you see, my darling. All is well,’ he whispered, easing her off of him and once again down into the white fluff of bedding, when to his great relief, he realized he still had consciousness and essence and being, and though he was barely able to hold it together, he still had flesh. ‘You have pleasured me deeply and healed from my pleasuring. Am I not twice blessed? ’ The words came from his throat feeling raw and tight with emotions he could not, in his present condition, contemplate as he desired, not the least of which was relief. ‘Rest now my love. Rest and heal, and when you are able, we shall take you back to Elemental Cottage where you shall be safe.’ She was already asleep before he had finished his sentence. And it was just as well. He did not want her to see him in his weakened condition. It would only distress her, and for no good reason.

He slipped from the bed and pulled the duvet snugly around Cassandra’s shoulders. Then with trembling hands, he wrapped himself in an afghan and stumbled from behind the heavy curtain that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the bothy to where he was surprised to find the entire coven and Serina Ravenmoor squeezed into the tiny space amid the avalanches of books and notebooks. Everyone was present except Tara. Sky caught him before he fell to his knees and settled him onto the make-shift bench next to the small table.

He forced a smile and with an effort cleared the growing fog from his head. ‘I am indebted to all of you for your help, indeed do not look so concerned. All is well.’

Sky laid an unnecessary hand on his forehead, as though he were still numbered among the living, and though superfluous, it felt soothing, indeed. ‘We didn’t do anything, Anderson. She released you of her own volition.’ She shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it possible in her condition, knowing what she is. But then until today, who knew that her kind even existed.’

Anderson looked around the room again, and it was Marie who spoke, as though she had read his thoughts. ‘Tara was here. She left when she knew you were alright. She’s pretty upset still, about what you did. About what we did.’ She squeezed Tim’s hand.

‘Don’t worry, she’ll get over it,’ Fiori said. Then she nodded to the make-shift bed chamber. ‘Is Cassandra alright?’

He forced a smile past the pain in his heart that he had so wounded Tara, but it was more than he was capable of considering at the moment. ‘My dear Fiori,’ he said. ‘I believe Cassandra Larkin, will not be journeying through the gates of death today. She is now resting peacefully. However,’ he breathed. ‘I am undone. Please do not make my condition known to her, as it will only trouble her unnecessarily, and I shall be well, only I shall be unable to manifest flesh for a brief time. But I am, indeed very well. Very well indeed.’  It was only as the last words passed from his throat that Anderson realized he was no longer in the flesh and that Sky sat on the bench holding only the afghan he had been wearing.

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The Importance of Website Updates by Lucy Felthouse

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Firstly, I want to give huge thanks to K D Grace for having me here to blog about websites and why they should be kept updated. I’m writing with both my author and publicist hats on, but the information is relevant to any website.

So, why should your author website be kept updated? I’ll try not to waffle on for too long, but here goes…

Because it’s good for search engine ranking. If Google, for example, index your website (which they do periodically) and find that it’s not had any changes made to it in a while, it’ll lose popularity with them, making it less likely for people to be able to find you when they search. The search engines love fresh, relevant content.

Because it’s good for your readers. If they land on your website and find out the last time you made changes was two years ago, they’re going to get the wrong impression. Perhaps they’ll think you’ve stopped writing and not bother to look for any more of your books. Maybe they’ll think that you just don’t care about keeping your site updated – which will make them wonder how much care you’re taking in your writing, how committed you are. This is why it’s a good thing to have your blog integrated into your website, as per this very site. It means that even if you’re between book releases and have no more information to add on that front at the moment, you can still add new content to your website. Whether it be your new blurb, a cover reveal, excerpt, a post about your work in progress or what’s coming next for you, or even a guest blog. As long as the content is fresh and relevant, your readers will remain interested in your website.

Because it’s good for the industry. You never know who is looking at your website. Aside from other authors and readers, agents, publishers, journalists and many more people may be browsing around your pages. Your publishers will like to see that you’re keeping on top of updates and that you’re promoting your books. Agents may read excerpts and take a liking to your work. Journalists may arrive and see what you’re all about and contact you in order to feature you in an article or interview. You just never know.

Because it’s good for you. More visitors to your website means more exposure, and in turn, more sales. Happier readers, publishers and potential contacts from agents, journalists and more. What’s not to like?

If you’re not technically-minded, then why not hand off your website upkeep to someone else? As well as looking after my own websites (four so far!), I take care of updates and technical for several of my clients, including K D Grace! Visit the contact page on http://www.writermarketing.co.uk to get in touch.

Thanks for reading!

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Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman. As well as writing and editing, she also runs her own promotions company, Writer Marketing Services. You can find out more about the services she offers, along with pricing at http://www.writermarketing.co.uk