The Journal by Liv Honeywell and Domitri Xavier

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The JournalBlurb:

“Come to my study at eight o’clock sharp. Dress for dinner. Wear high heels and put on that dress – you know what I expect of you.”

When the order comes Livia is torn between anticipation and dread.

Does he know? How could he possibly know what she has done? And how can she find the words and the courage to tell him?

As eight o’clock edges ever nearer, Livia waits outside the study door, trembling; uncertain of what she will find when she comes face to face with her Master.

If he knows… If he does, there will be consequences. There is no doubt about that.

What will be the price for her moment of disobedience?

 

Excerpt:

He heard the knock on the door of his study. This was her signal that she had complied with all his instructions, not a request to enter. She would come in when he said so and she would never dare to knock again.

He had asked her to dress immaculately, smartly; as if they were going to dinner. Her hair must be perfect, away from her face. Her make up flawless, perhaps to look a little tarty, but she would know how far to go and the penalties for going over the top. She would be wearing elegant, high heeled shoes.

He told her to come in, gently, softly; as if she were merely coming in for a coffee or cocktails. Immediately she stepped into the room; looking down with her hands behind her. She would never look at his face directly without his express permission.

“Come to me.”

She had no idea what to expect. Would he be soft and tender? Or would he sweep her off her feet by mauling her like an animal. She knew that her body was his and he could treat it in any way that pleased him.

He ran his fingers through her hair, gently folding it back and forth and her head moved with his every gesture. Then he thrust his fingers deep toward her skull and tugged at her hair, moving her head in all directions. She let out an involuntary squeal.

“This is no time for making such noises.”

The quiet scream stopped immediately. She was under his power, his presence; his dominance. There was never any doubt about it.

He put his hands over her eyes and closed them, turning her face downwards. With effortless ease, he bound her hands behind her by her wrists and elbows. He loved the way that this pushed her breasts forwards and outwards. He had no need to bind her but it pleased him; a bound woman was an aesthetic pleasure.

He put one hand over her mouth. The other roamed over every contour of her body; her pouting breasts, her waist, behind her neck. He moved to her pussy and felt that it was already wet. Then both hands wandered quickly and powerfully over her whole body. She let out a yelp of pleasure which he immediately silenced with his strong fingers. She was his to do with as he wished.

He turned away from her, then turned back to look. She was beautiful. She was his. Her pain would be his pleasure…

________________

I knocked on the study door, quietly, almost hesitantly. I knew so well the knots in the wood, the whorls and lines of the grain. How many times had I stood here, gazing at this door; trying to guess what would happen when I opened it?

I wondered how long he would have me wait. I didn’t know what to think. Did he somehow know what I’d done? Had he been waiting for me to tell him, giving me the chance to own up? Hoping that I would before he had to make me? I couldn’t imagine how he could know, but… he had sounded distracted earlier. Not like himself.

I’d so wanted to confess. I really had. I’d tried all day yesterday. I’d tried today as well but I couldn’t make myself say it. I didn’t want to see the look of disappointment in his eyes, the awful expression on his face that would come from knowing I’d done something absolutely forbidden.

And… and I was scared of the punishment, of how bad it would be. And now I’d made it worse. Not only for me but for him too. For how much more I’d let him down by not telling him the truth.

I hoped I could find the nerve to say it now. Maybe I could find a way to explain, though I wasn’t sure I could explain it to myself. What on earth had I done?

I hoped he would allow me to speak, or I wouldn’t be able to say a word, not even to confess. What would I do then? Wait until he was done with me and then tell him? Wait until he had used my body, whichever way he chose; wait until he had given me pleasure which I surely didn’t deserve?

Then what? If I couldn’t find the nerve now, if I hadn’t found it earlier, what on earth made me think I would find it then?

I reached out and lightly traced the pattern of the wood with a finger tip. My hand was trembling and I slowed my breathing, doing my best to relax.

Then I heard his voice; such a beautiful deep voice, so calm and gentle. It gave me no clue to what he was thinking, to what he would do this time.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, closing it quietly behind me; keeping my eyes lowered the whole time. I clasped my hands behind my back and waited.

“Come to me,” he said.

‘Always,’ I thought. ‘Whenever you wish it.’ I didn’t say it, of course. I knew better than to speak without permission.

I kept my hands behind my back and walked over to him, my high heels clicking on the hard wood floor. I dared not look at him, but I so wanted to. Perhaps for reassurance that he wouldn’t hurt me, although I knew he would; perhaps to see if the gentleness in his voice was there in his eyes; perhaps to search for something, anything in his expression to tell me what he was thinking.

He lifted a hand toward my face and I tried not to flinch, but he merely stroked my hair, twining his fingers through the length of it. I began to relax, leaning my head into his hand, until he grabbed a handful of hair close to my scalp and pulled hard, and I couldn’t help letting out a small squeak of surprise.

“This is no time for making such noises,” he said, still so calmly, so controlled, and I bit back the sound, unable to rid myself of the feeling that this was the calm before the storm.

His fingers gently covered and closed my eyes, and then I stood quietly while he tied my hands behind my back. Now I couldn’t even see what was coming, and even if I could, I was helpless to prevent it.

He clamped his hand firmly over my mouth, stopping even the chance to protest, as his other hand explored my body, stroking and caressing – over my breasts, across my hips, between my legs. I blushed as I realised he must know how aroused I was.

He released my mouth and inspected my body with both hands, squeezing my breasts and my bottom, stroking my face, touching between my legs once more. I moaned softly and he covered my mouth again, muffling any noise I might make.

Was I not to be allowed even the slightest sound? To have to keep silent no matter what he might do to me? The thought of his control made me shiver and I swallowed hard, trying to hold back a sudden rush of desire. I tried to still myself, wondering if he had noticed.

Of course. Of course he had. He noticed everything. I wondered if it would make a difference to what he would do. If it pleased him that I couldn’t hide my reactions or if I would be punished for moving, however slightly?

He stepped away from me and I waited for what would come…

 

Buying Links:

The Journal is available from Amazon US – http://amzn.to/1bcR1CG and Amazon UK – http://amzn.to/1dxf9wI.

 

Author Bios:

Liv Honeywell:

When not writing about delicious, hot male dominants and the female subs who love them, I’m usually doing something craft-like, reading, baking, eating the results of said baking, and attempting to satisfy the demands of His High and Mighty Dominance (the cat!). My first story, Imagine, was published with Silver Moon Books last year and Coming, Ready or Not is my first solo book. The Journal was co-written with Domitri Xavier.

You can follow me on my blog – http://www.liv-honeywell.com, Twitter – http://www.twitter.com/LivHoneywell, Facebook –https://www.facebook.com/LivHoneywellErotica, Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/LivHoneywell and my Amazon page is here: https://www.amazon.com/author/livhoneywell

 

Domitri Xavier:

Domitri Xavier comes from a rich heritage, including Russia, France and Yorkshire. He is the quintessential English gentleman and lives alone in his cavernous mansion, Upton Abbey.

Domitri is not only a writer, composer, pianist, raconteur, wit and poet, he also enjoys a number of hobbies; he breeds Basset Hounds, plays chess (although he has yet to record a victory) and he is a renowned collector of used tea bags – Earl Grey, naturally.

He fills his remaining time writing erotic fiction, much of it based on his own lifestyle at the Abbey.

The Journal is his first book and his poems have been published on Bitten Press’s website – http://www.akissofpoetry.com/211723089

You can find Domitri on Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/DomitriXavierErotica, his Facebook friend page is https://www.facebook.com/domitri.xavier, his blog is http://domitrixavier.wordpress.com, his Goodreads page is http://www.goodreads.com/DomitriXavier and his Amazon page is http://amazon.com/author/domitrixavier.

Suspiciously Obedient by Julia Kent

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Blurb:

From USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent comes the second book in her “Obedient” trilogy:

AFTER A BILLION PEOPLE WATCH YOU MAKE LOVE, WHERE DO YOU HIDE?

A fake persona with very real emotions…

As “Matt Jones,” CEO playboy Michael Bournham has just stumbled into his wildest dream and worst nightmare while playing a middle-management employee role for a reality television stunt. Getting caught making love with his administrative assistant, Lydia Charles, on camera let unscrupulous Hollywood producers blackmail him before launching the video on YouTube. Fired from his job and ridiculed on social media, Mike needs to hit “reboot” on his life. Hiding Lydia away in Iceland with a made-up job, he sends his best friend Jeremy to watch over her. Meanwhile, he disguises himself once more and booked a cabin at Lydia’s family’s campground in Maine, to immerse himself in her world.

A best friend with deeper intentions…

After more than a decade of world travel and hedonistic fun, dot-com millionaire Jeremy wants more out of his friendship with Mike, but more than that – he wants Lydia. Struck by her beauty and essence, he follows Mike’s order and obeys, courting her with a friendship that quickly becomes a deeper bond, charged by Lydia’s fantasies about him – and Mike. Unable to resist, he becomes her confidante and bedmate, helping her to come to grips with her impulsive decisions and to find her way back home to Maine.

A woman torn by desire…

Lydia accepts the move to Iceland to become the Director of Communications for European Operations not realizing it’s a sham position Michael Bournham created to help hide her from the firestorm of the viral sex tape. Living in a new country should be fun, but side glances and whispers from her new Icelandic employees dig at her. Ignored by her new boss at Bournham Industries, Lydia’s disenchantment with her bold move is softened only by Jeremy’s appearance. Wild and loose, he fills a void in her life – and soon fills her bed.

When she decides there’s no place like home, the new couple embarks for her family’s campground – and Jeremy’s suspicious obedience will be revealed.
———————–

Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing romance novels after learning that she could not work as a fighter pilot because her fear of flying disqualified her. Turning to her second love, she became a dog groomer, but had to abandon that job after adopting too many strays. Writing about very real, very flawed people is a natural extension of her life and, well, her. She lives on the east coast with her partner, two small children, seventeen dogs that weigh less than fifteen pounds each, and a monthly consumption of Nutella, brie and french bread that makes cardiologists cringe.

She is originally from Ohio.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at jkentauthor@gmail.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/julia.kent.100. Visit my blog at http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com

—————————–

Links:

Amazon

B&N

Kobo

Smashwords

Sex and the Personal Shopper: A Sweltering Rant

Blog, ,

money-hands-thumb15490930RANT WARNING! I’m detoxing from Personal Shopper Sex today. No, I’ve not been having sex with a personal shopper, and no I’m not opposed to having sex with a personal shopper if the opportunity and the desire arise . What I’m detoxing from is reading yet another story in which a personal shopper appears to be an essential part of a good sex life.

Why do I get the feeling that you only get really good sex if you’re totally repackaged in designer clothing and polished up to a sheen that only the super-rich have? And really, who has the time for that type of a total wardrobe reboot without a personal shopper? I know. It’s a post 50SoG world out there. I understand that. But Jeez! It’s astounding the number of bully billionaires who are out there in fictionland guiding their innocent young lovers to come of age in the world of rough-ish sex with the help a personal shopper from Sax 5th Avenue.

I realise those stories wouldn’t be out there if there weren’t someone, LOTS of someones reading them. And let’s face it, who hasn’t fantasized about a total wardrobe make-over and an expensive trip to the spa? But that’s looks, right? That’s surface details. I mean I hope that people like me for who I am no matter how shabby looking my track suit is. I know all the psychology and the writer-speak about having the heroine be a personality-less cypher, so we, the reader, can step right into her character and viola, designer clothes, expensive car, hot billionaire boyfriend who obsesses on us … the experience is all ours for the taking. I get that. It’s a fantasy, and we all have them. Though I confess I’d rather pour my fantasies into someone who has an interesting life and a personality with a few quirky flaws.

Growing up in a working class family, as I did, there’s another thing that bugs me about sex the Personal Shopper way. It bugs me that, in erotica and romantic fiction, ‘good sex’ has been commandeered by the rich and Personal-shopper- dressed. The young innocent, who is never rich and never very savvy in the art of looking good, is always repackaged in all things designer, all things expensive, all things chic until the drab little mouse is turned into a stunner with super model looks and poise. That done, she is now suitable for arm candy, and bed candy for the controling billionaire.

I can’t help but wonder, do only the rich and made-over get good sex, because if that’s the case, most of us are so screwed, and not in a good way either. Surely I can’t be the only one to want a bit of intelligence and grit in my fictional sex. And in my fictional heroines.

To me the rash of Personal-Shopper-made heroines in fiction feels like another attempt to sanitise sex and clean it all up so it’s acceptable for public display. It feels like an effort to convince us that the only good sex happens when we’ve been showered, plucked, shaved, waxed, deodorised and perfumed, then trussed up in designer clothes and nose bleed heels. And of course none of this can happen without massive amounts of money, so bring on the billionaire who can easily afford to keep his women all pristine and shiny before, during and even après-sex. It’s not that hard to take this trend to the next level; that good sex can only be created with the liberal use of a Platinum card. It feels to me like Personal Shopper sex takes the smell, the taste and the messy down and dirty out of sex in the same way Innocent Cypher Chick seems to have taken the personality out of fictional heroines. I can’t help but feel like this type of reading experience is thrusting soulless sex with soulless characters upon the reader.

If sex takes place in the brain at least as much as it does in the body, isn’t down and dirty in jeans and trainers in the back garden or on the kitchen floor just as hot and way more accessible than designer sex? But then again perhaps the whole Personal Shopper sex thing is meant to do just that, stimulate that hugely powerful sex organ, the brain, into a virtual reality fuck with a hunky billionaire. And the whole experience is all ours for the asking through the ‘fit-yourself-into-the-slot’ feature of the Innocent Cypher Chick.

There! That explains a lot. I’m no less disturbed by the trend, but then I am sweltering in the summer heat. So feel free to ignore my rant.  And besides, I’m pretty sure I’d be sweating through my expensive Personal Shopped clothing while waiting for my billionaire to pick me up in the limo. That’s certainly enough to disturb any Innocent Cypher Chick.

Jennifer Denys Asks Why is the Hero Always Handsome and Hunky?

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One of the fabulous writers I met for the first time at Smut by the Sea was the very talented, very quirky Jennifer Denys. Her reading from Friendly Seduction had her audience gripped and in stitches. I couldn’t wait to have Jennifer on my site to share a bit of Friendly Seduction and tell us why the hero is always handsome and hunky. Jennifer, welcome!

Jennifer DenysIt’s one of the unspoken rules of erotic romance that the hero and heroine are good looking with great figures (and young as well!). In my book Friendly Seduction the hero, Matt (handsome, of course!) is a sci-fi writer who has been told to add more romance to his stories, so he enlists the help of a friend, Lissa, who reads lots of erotic romances. When he asks what the heroes are like in the stories, she states,

“Apart from tall, good-looking, and hunky?”

“You mean short, ugly, and fat guys don’t get written into stories,” Matt asks humorously.

“I haven’t read one erotic book yet where the hero is short, ugly, and fat.”

This is not only in books but films and TV as well. Think of Michael Douglas in ‘Romancing the Stone’ where little Danny de Vito was the bad guy. And ALL the men that the girls in ‘Charmed’ fell in love with – not a single ugly one amongst them. And don’t forget adverts too like the current advert in the UK for coca cola where a bevy of young women eye up a gorgeous half-naked man (or, if you are old enough to remember, the Levi jeans advert where the attractive guy takes off his jeans in a launderette).

I rest my case.

And why? Well, in essence we read these books/watch these programmes because we don’t want realism, we want fantasy. We put ourselves in the shoes of the characters and for a while we can forget we are middle aged, on a diet, with greying hair that needs a new dye (at least that describes me!). And who would want to fantasize that you fall in love with the short, ugly, fat one?!

Similarly the hero is often a member of royalty, nobility, a great warrior, leader, millionaire, CEO, or top of their profession – never the man who cleans out the sewer.

Lissa goes on to say,

“He never shows negative attributes like cruelty, laziness, picking his nose, having a hairy back, and so on. Those are reserved for the bad guys.”

Of course the sex in erotic romances is always fabulous and the hero always seems to lift the girl effortlessly. In the book, when Matt tries he stumbles!

“Okay, I can see there is no hope for the human race if women have such a high standard. We men won’t be able to supply it,” Matt declares forlornly.

So true. I have a writer friend, fairly new to writing, who is getting back into the dating game after her ex left her a year ago and she recently commented that she finds herself measuring her ‘dates’ against the heroes in her books. Bad thing to do! No-one will ever compete with our fantasy heroes.

These mythical men also have no problem getting the girl’s clothes off.

“Okay, where the hell is the clasp of your bra?” Matt gestured to her front.

Lissa burst out laughing.

He crossed his arms. “What is so funny?” This was very irritating, particularly as it had been going so well.

Calming down, she wiped her tears off her face. “Oh, that’s a good one. Has every girl you’ve been out with had a bra with a clasp at the front?” she asked.

Realizing his error, he flushed. “Ah. Sorry. All the women have front clasps in the books you gave me.”

God forbid that the heroine would wear a sports bra! And have you ever wondered why the female sub in BDSM stories doesn’t wear any underwear? Lissa tells Matt,

“There’s a very good reason why the woman is always told not to wear panties in any BDSM stories! It’s so the writer doesn’t have the problem of getting the heroine’s panties off.”

She continues,

“You could always use the line ‘her clothes fell away from her body’ where the characters have no problems undoing anything. Or even better, the old chestnut when the writer has the character suddenly noticing they are naked with no idea of how they got there. I always groan when they use that one.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want my number one reader to groan, so I’m going to fall back on a sci-fi classic convention of being able to press a button on the clothing and it all comes apart in one go.”

Needless to say, Lissa did groan at that point!

Along the same lines have you ever sat in disbelief when the guy manages to get the girl to where he needs her to be because she is too busy struggling, looking around her, or distracted by something?

When Lissa points this out Matt responds,

“I’ll just have to spend time describing her gorgeous body as she is tied there. I think the readers will forgive this slight transgression if I do that.”

Unfortunately this is true. If we are in the shoes of our heroine and the hunky hero is describing the heroine aka the reader, as having a stunning figure we will forgive anything.

Having tied the heroine up Matt tells Lissa the hero then whips her.

“Whipped her… Um, why?”

He looked at her, chagrined. “Well, it features in some of those books you gave me, and you mentioned punishment of some sort goes down well with female readers.”

Too true. Throw some BDSM into a story and you’ve got a winner. Bondage at the very least and a spanking.

But why does the reader enjoy this so much? A great deal has to be because you are reading from the comfort of your armchair, bed (or bath, depending on your favourite reading spot!). You can imagine the pain of being tied up and whipped, flogged, spanked, etc, without actually feeling it and therefore it becomes erotic. The heroine is, after all, usually naked. And don’t forget the hero doing this to you is very good looking and you are already lusting after him.

In ‘Friendly Seduction’ Lissa does more than just discuss erotic romances with Matt. The ‘seduction’ of the title is him pretending he needs help practising certain scenes in the book he is writing. Lissa, (she has had a crush on Matt for some time), is happy to help – particularly when she is delighted he named the heroine after her. At this point in the story he has removed her clothes and put a blindfold on.

“Of course, at this auction Felissa appears half-naked so the potential owners can view her delicious body.” “The men at this auction need more than her just being naked.”

“Yeah—sooo?” Lissa asked very cautiously.

Moving away from her to get something, he then returned standing behind her. She shivered in his arms as he plucked at a hardening nipple. He had to push her hands down as they
automatically came up to cover herself. “The auction staff put clamps on their slaves.”

This now begs the question, why do we find the idea of auctions so arousing? Or any situation where the heroine is kidnapped? These are termed the ‘forced seduction’ type stories. The alien abduction plot is a common theme to sci-fi erotic romance. The reader knows quite well that the heroine will always end up with the hero so it is perfectly ‘safe’.

And the idea that the gorgeous hero has kidnapped her to be his one and only true ‘mate’ as destined by some prophesy or instinct is thrilling. It appeals to our sense of having a soul mate somewhere out there who will find us (having not found a mate, soul or otherwise, reading about it is my only option so I am a sucker for the alien kidnap stories, particularly if the stories involve a race of beings who are desperate for women because of some catastrophe to their people).

Lissa sums it up nicely,

“And the aliens in those circumstances are always humanoid.” She laughed. “I’ve never come across a story yet where the girl falls in love with a ten-armed, purple, blobby-like monster.”

Quite often the woman is expected to be in a ménage relationship in this situation. Even better! The idea of having two (or more!) hunky heroes lusting after you, and only you, is enough to bring the reader to their knees (well, it does me!).

Naturally Matt included a ménage in his story as well as a kidnap, an auction and some BDSM.

“Here come your new owners. You wait with bated breath, listening with all your being to every sound.” He moved to her side so he could whisper in her ear. “Do they sound
heavy-footed? Do they sound heavy-breathing? Do they carry chains? The footsteps stop by her swinging body, and she gasps as one touches a breast, tugging on the chain.”

I’ve been dotting around the story to pull out extracts, but one thing I have always laughed at when watching sci-fi is that nobody hits the wrong button. Think about all the times you hit the wrong key on the keyboard and all your work gets wiped or you end up on a page you didn’t know existed and have no idea how to get back. What happens if you are hurtling through space at the time? You could end up on the other side of a black hole. Or your machine closes down suddenly, and there is no one in the sci-fi version of the IT department to come and help which is disastrous when you are in the middle of a fight with the Klingons and need the button to fire the phasers!!

Sorry, that was an aside, although Lissa does raise this at one point in the story.

But sticking with the future Matt tells her that the heroine,

“Doesn’t want to be taken because it will mean being sent back to her owner.”

Lissa turned in his arms, her face showing her astonishment. “Her owner! What sort of future is this?”

Grinning at her fierce expression, he quickly invented a story. “She put herself into servitude to pay off debts but then ran away from her cruel and ugly master who wants her back—hence the bounty hunter.”

“Okay, so she doesn’t want to be taken, then. Particularly if her owner is ugly,” she retorted with a mocking tone. “Therefore she’ll be screaming blue murder and continually struggling to get free.”

The great thing about writing a futuristic story is that you can make up whatever you like and have fun ‘world-building’! One of my plans is to actually write the sci-fi story that Matt and Lissa conceive whilst falling in love.

And so to finish this article with a quote from Matt,

“If I understand correctly, you—and every other female reader possibly—like reading about manly heroes with beautiful heroines.” He counted these off on his fingers. “The hero
has to be a leader of some sort and be dominant but caring, and there has to be some sort of conflict or misunderstanding, maybe even a kidnapping. If there is some BDSM involved, and even a ménage a trois, that would be even better.”

“That’s it in a nutshell.”

Jennifer Denys

Buy ‘Friendly Seduction’ here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Friendly-Seduction-Acquaintances-Publishing-ebook/dp/B007700BFA/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372847020&sr=1-10

or Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/Friendly-Seduction-Acquaintances-Publishing-ebook/dp/B007700BFA/ref=sr_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372847107&sr=1-8

About Jennifer Denys:

Jennifer Denys writes erotic romance with Siren Publishing and Evernight Publishing. Her first Jennifer Denys 2book came out in 2011 and she has written another ten books since then (they are mostly novellas, although she is the first to admit the initial impetus has faded and it takes her longer to write these days!)

She flits from one sub-genre to another wherever the muse strikes. She has written a trilogy of romantic comedies, several BDSM stories, two in a sci-fi futuristic ménage series, and two paranormal menage books (one with a co-author which was a whole different experience!).

Her best seller is Submissive Training. She reckons it is down to the title, as she has had several communications from people asking if this is a good book to learn about BDSM. She has had to explain that this is just ‘fiction’ where the hero is always handsome and there is always a happily ever after!

If you want to know more about Jennifer’s work her blog/website is http://jennifer-denys.blogspot.com/

Review of Friendly Seduction from Coffee Time Romance :

I loved, loved, LOVED Friendly Seduction! At times I found myself sighing because of the pure pleasure Matt took in discovering Lissa’s body. Other times, Ms. Denys had me laughing so hard at the less-than-stellar sexy performances that the words seemed to be jumping around on my eBook Reader. Reading this book was such a pleasure and I enjoyed each erotic encounter, whether it was pure sexual or had the humorous scenarios that made me fall in love with this tale. I want to read more by this author and I can only hope that her other stories will grip me from the getgo

Finding Mr. Wrong by Annabeth Leong

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WMS_blogtourWhat fun is Mr. Right without Mr. Wrong? Like Mr. Right, he comes in many flavors—in Mr. Wrong’s case, the arrogant jerk, the sniveling coward, the cheater, and more—but unlike the hero of a book, he doesn’t always get the appreciation he deserves. And he should get love because, even when he’s bad for the heroine, he can be a lot of fun for the reader.

In my latest release, The Fugitive’s Sexy Brother, Mr. Wrong stole my heart while I was writing. Matthew Lodi was once a star bounty hunter, but now he’s down on his luck and in over his head, mooching off everyone he knows to make the crushing payments he owes for the thing he loves more than anything else in the world, an orange Lotus Elise 2008, California Edition. At the start of the book, he’s stolen from the main character and mistreated her, but that’s only the beginning of what he gets up to in pursuit of his beloved car.

I couldn’t get enough of him.

He made me mad in such a satisfying way, and I could just see the cocky smile that convinced women to go to bed with him even when they knew better. I loved describing his wrong-headed thought processes, and loved watching the way his supremely callous behavior slowly forced the heroine to stand up for herself.

Much as I’d never want to be the girlfriend of such a jerk, the writer in me was head over heels. Whenever it felt hard to make progress on the book, I’d think about the next scene I wanted to do with him.

I’d like to raise a glass to the Mr. Wrongs who show up in books, providing a person we can love to hate, a target for satisfying comebacks, and a guy the heroine can feel great about walking past when she’s holding hands with Mr. Right.

 

Excerpt:

A rattle marred the powerful purr of the car’s engine slowing and stopping. Matthew Lodi swallowed hard, trying to control his anger and anxiety, but his fists clenched on the steering wheel, whitening his knuckles. Lotus Elise 2008, California Edition. Those words alone could make him happy on the worst of days. Too bad the car had turned on him in the last eight months.

He ran a finger over her sleek dash. A crack tugged at his skin and he sucked air in through his teeth. First the rattle, now this. One part after another had developed problems since he’d crashed her late last year. But no matter what went wrong, he couldn’t let her go. He’d never been this wound up even over a flesh and blood woman. He hemorrhaged money to keep her running and he didn’t like to think about the repo man he’d seen poking around his yard the other night.

He hoped Guy’s little secretary, Neva, had her story straight. He could use a big payday.

A stream of curse words pouring through the window jerked his attention away from the flaw in the dash. Matthew popped up out of the car. A month before someone had keyed the Lotus while it was parked outside Guy’s Bail Bonds. Since then, every hostile word or movement near his employer’s building seemed directed at Matthew’s car.

The guy with the foul mouth appeared around the corner of the building, but Matthew forgot him the moment he focused on the woman pushing him forward. Emily. Protective emotions surged in Matthew’s chest at the sight of his ex-girlfriend’s slight body and big, innocent blue eyes. He locked the car and stepped forward.

“Need some help bringing this joker in?”

Emily’s pretty, freckled face wasn’t made for the sour expression she gave him in response. “I can’t afford to ‘share’ any more commission with you, Matthew. Go get your own.”

Thirty seconds and she’d already brought up this old fight? He wished Emily would stop denying the strength of her feelings for him. “Emily,” Matthew protested. “I’m not trying to take anything that belongs to you. But we both know it’s no good for you to try to do all this alone. You should let me help you with the physical part so you can concentrate on the stuff you can do well.”

The fugitive in her grasp gave a sudden grunt. “Sorry,” Emily told him. “That one really wasn’t for you, even if you did spend the drive over calling me every name in the book.” Matthew rolled his eyes. Emily insisted on treating her quarry like people responding to a dinner invitation. She lacked the stomach to handle them the way they deserved. Matthew reached for the man, mentally planning a hold that would inflict the right amount of pain without leaving bruises that would concern prison officials.

Emily blocked his approach, interposing her body between Matthew and the fugitive. He didn’t think she should leave her back open like that. His forehead wrinkled in concern. “Get your hands off my quarry,” she growled. Thin cheeks showed Matthew that she hadn’t been eating well. Her desperation made him worry about her even more.

“Emily.” He couldn’t resist touching the side of her neck. A few freckles dotted the skin there, but he knew they were just a tease compared to the dots splashed over her shoulders and breasts.

Her shove shocked him, knocking him back onto the sidewalk. Matthew blinked. She shouldn’t have done that when his guard was down. He scrambled to his feet and followed her in.

 

The Fugitive's Sexy BrotherBlurb:

Emily Boysen is sick of low-level bounty hunting jobs that don’t pay her rent, and sick to death of her ex-boyfriend taking credit for her work. Ready to claim her due, she takes on the quarry of a lifetime, the notorious Fernando Bonavita. But instead of the fugitive, she captures his sexy younger brother, Javier.

Javier Bonavita never wanted to know the truth about his older brother’s activities, instead protecting him out of loyalty. When he uses his hacking skills to pose as Fernando, he never expects to uncover crimes he can’t stomach. Beautiful Emily has no idea how glad he is to be in her custody—as long as he’s her prisoner, he doesn’t have to face his brother.

Passion flares between Emily and Javier, and soon he’s putting the handcuffs on her. Suspicion grows along with their feelings, though. A sinister plot centers around Fernando, and untangling it will test their loyalties to the limit.

 

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Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking and excellent bass lines. She always keeps a new e-book loaded on her phone and a paperback stashed in her purse, but her eyes are still bigger than her stomach whenever she visits a bookseller. She blogs at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong . Watch for her next contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave, Get Laid.

 

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