Sh!’s Lovely Manager, Renee, Talks Bondage for Beginners

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Renee on masturbationSh!_logo_300dpi

It’s totally my pleasure to have Sh!’s fabulous manager, and my very good friend, Renee back on a Hopeful Romantic. It’s always fun to have her here, and today Renee is going to give us a quick primer on bondage for beginners. Welcome, Renee!

After the smash hit of Fifty Shades of Grey, we’ve noticed a massive increase in couples curious about kinky sex and BDSM (Bondage, Domination, Sadism, Masochism), so I was delighted when KD invited me to share tips on bondage for beginners.

There are a few basic rules to kinky play and it’s important you know about these before tying your willing partner to the nearest bed post.

Following these simple rules can save an embarrassing trip to A&E:

plan for all eventualities – keep keys to cuffs (or medical scissors, if you use rope or tape) nearby.

Use a safeword and never leave your captive alone. A safeword is a word that lets the Top (the person doing the tying) know that the Bottom (the person being tied up) has had enough. Agree on a word that you wouldn’t normally use during sex, and honor it absolutely.

It’s very common to use the traffic light system:Renee bondage for beginners traffic light1368809_10201107435062862_2051221348_n

Green = Yes!

Amber = Slow Down

Red = STOP!

 

Next – on to the fun stuff!

Renee bondage for beginners1370294_10201107410622251_1175098322_nA roll of bondage tape is a great starter tool, not only do you get several meters of shiny tape to wrap round your submissive, but it can be rolled back up when play time is over. The tape sticks to itself rather than to soft skin, so it won’t hurt when peeled off at the end of a session. Use the tape to tie wrists, or as a blind fold, or why not make a boob tube!

Soft rope cuffs are great for newbies, and they’re available at a price that won’t break the bank. Simply slip onto your partner, and wahey you go!

Renee bondage for beginners1208671_10201107408862207_1591186624_aSatin ties look and feel gorgeous, and can be tied to pretty much anything: bedposts, chairs or even a sturdy kitcken table for a splayed-out effect. The last one is particularly useful if you want to tease and torment your delicious slave for any length of time.

The Bondage Bow is an excellent piece of kit to include in your toy box. Several inches of Renee bondage for beginers1370246_10201107408462197_608622393_nstretchy latex can be wound round wrists or ankles – just remember to have medical scissors handy to avoid sticky situations.

Handcuffs are quick and easy, both to get hold of and to use. There are dozens of cheap Renee bondage for beginners1289895_10201107409342219_1923498488_nchrome cuffs out on the market, but I’d advise against using these as they’ll chafe on delicate skin. Instead, opt for luxury lined cuffs for comfort and style. They’ll cost a little extra, but unmarked skin is well worth the additional pounds. You can easily attach chains or rope to the cuffs, both available at B&Q – your friendly neighbourhood go-to shop for kink in the suburbs.

If you’re in a particularly mean mood, tie one wrist to one ankle and create an undignified hobble-effect that will please the harshest of Mistresses.  Position your captive somewhere they’ll be comfortable. Ensure the room is warm, and you could turn up the sexy by lighting some scented massage candles. Once the wax has begun to melt, dip your fingers in the warm oil and take some time to indulge your lover with slow luxurious strokes.

At this point, a little sucking and kissing on the neck also works well. (Tease, tease, tease…) By applying a gentle vibrator over nipples and labia you are bound to have your captive squirming and begging for more in no time. (It’s entirely up to you if you give it to them or not..!)

Personally, I’m very fond of vibrating nipple clamps – but attached to labia rather than nipples for a crazy, all-buzzin’ effect. Add a finger or tongue, and your partner may well gush all over your freshly laundered sheets..!

It’s entirely up to you and your play partner as to how long the tie-up-&-tease session should go on, but do make sure that your sub isn’t getting cold. If hands and feet are feeling chilly, it’s time to untie and cuddle…

Renee bondage for beginners1370423_10201107409942234_1552817956_nRenee is the Senior Store Manager at female-focused erotic boutique Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium in Hoxton Square. She has her fingers in many pies and spends her days talking about G-spots, P-spots and any other spots you may have found in your nether regions. When she is not selling sex toys to the women & couples of London, she can be found at home with a thrilling book and a glass of pink wine, surrounded by her beloved bunnies (of the furry variety).

Follow the Sh! Girlz for all the latest fun & frolics: Twitter: @ShWomenstore Facebook: Sh! Hoxton Website: http://www.sh-womenstore.com/

End of Novel Syndrome: Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid!

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Hi everyone! Yes, it’s true. I’m still here. *Blinks wide-eyed and a bit dazed* Some of you already know why I’ve been off the radar for a while, and for those of you who don’t, a quick look around at the undone ironing, the multiple coffee cups, the floor that hasn’t seen a hoover in … well never mind, and you would be able to accurately diagnose my disease. Yup! I’ve been suffering from End of Novel Syndrome. I’m sure every writer reading this is nodding in empathy.

End of Novel Syndrome is that overpowering neurosis that hits a author somewhere around the last fifteen thousand words of writing a novel, in those last few critical weeks when the end is oh so close but so far away. A novelist gets a bit crazy around that time, Though my husband insists that, for me, ENS begins six months before and ends six months after, I’m sure he’s exaggerating just a little.

The symptoms of ENS are fairly easy to identify. A writer will suddenly become scarce on their usual social mediawriting image 2 haunts. Their responses to attempts at communications will be terse, distracted and often nothing more than a series of grunts, animal noises, and nods or head shakes, which of course don’t translate very well over gmail.

Another symptom indicative of ENS is a sudden change in eating and drinking habits. For me, my meals suddenly consist of anything I can eat with one hand and keep working laced with LOTS of extra coffee and tea.

Memory usually goes right out the door, at least memory that involves anything beyond what’s going on with the plot and characters in those last crucial chapters of the novel. I know it’s gross and disgusting, and if people look at me askance, well, I’ll deny it, but sometimes that involves actually forgetting things like bathing. For some writers it involves forgetting to eat, but that has never been my problem, though forgetting to sleep happens. And even when it doesn’t it’s nearly impossible to get a decent night’s sleep with my characters running rough shod through my head  and doing the Hokey Pokey in my dreams. Which results in another indicative symptom of ENS – red rimmed eyes sporting lovely dark circles beneath.  Oh yes, I have the look down in spades. Not a good fashion statement.

All housework and cooking is forgotten, all social events cancelled, and any time taken away from those last elusive chapters is given grudgingly and with much grumping. And then there are the physical symptoms; stomach knots, neck cricks, back aches from sitting too long in one position, eye strain, caffeine jitters and the queen of them all, interrupted sleep. Symptoms vary from author to author.

I drink less alcohol when I’m suffering from ENS because I’m afraid it’ll take away my edge. But there’s always a special bottle of wine waiting for the celebration when I come out on the other side.

And coming out on the other side is why I do it. There’s something that still seems a bit magical to me that I can take a seed of an idea and shape it and mull it about and, after some blood sweat tears and other stressful things that may or may not involve body fluids, that seed actually evolves into a novel, and a novel I’m proud to have my name on.

TE new coverKay Jaybee and I were discussing ENO a few days ago and I actually stole her idea to do a post about it, so thanks Kay! At the time I was in the end stretch of Grace Marshall’s third novel of the Executive Decisions trilogy The Exhibition, and I’ll have to admit, Stacie and Harris were having me for lunch on a regular basis. Fortunately for my poor husband, he was called away on business to South Africa that final week of the struggle with The Exhibition. (Wise advice to significant others of writers in the throes of ENS; run away if you can! Farther is better. Did I forget to mention the one symptom of ENS that endemic – Mega-Bitch-Moods!)

Hubby came home to Ms Sweetness and Light with the novel out the door to Xcite and happy dancing in full swing. However he remains cautious. He knows, as any significant other of a writer knows, that the only thing worse than End of Novel Syndrome, is what happens when the novel the author has lived with for months and months is suddenly out the door –Empty Nest Syndrome! Hubs lucked out this time, I’m already on to the next novel.

The Exhibition

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?

(Coming Soon!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Buried Secrets by Emme Rollins

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Buried SecretsBLURB:

Should some secrets remain buried?

Dusty has always been a hothead, far more impulsive than her twin, Nick, the calm, cool and collected one of the pair. But Nick is dead, found murdered in their local cemetery, and Dusty simply can’t rest until she finds out who–or what–has killed her brother.

Sure the local authorities aren’t being straight with her–or anyone else–about what’s been going on in their little upper Michigan town, Dusty delays going off to college for a semester, defying her father and stepmother and taking a job in the local bar to start doing some digging.

Her focus soon fixes on Shane, her brother’s best friend and the town bad boy. The tension and rivalry between Dusty and Shane has always been palpable and sparks fly as the two collide. Dusty finds herself sinking in deeper with Shane and the mystery of what happened to her brother–and a lengthening list of victims–grows even stranger.

When everything comes to a head, Dusty focuses on one thing: What happened the night her brother was killed in the cemetery? She’s sure Shane is keeping a secret and she’s determined to find out what it is, one way or another.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

 

EXCERPT:

“Nick told me something the last time I saw him… alive.”

She closed her eyes, not sure why she was telling him. Maybe it was the way he turned his head toward her before inhaling deeply, like he was trying to breathe her in. Maybe it was the way he cupped her shoulder in his hand, like he was holding something delicate—a tiny field mouse or a baby bird—and he was trying to be careful not to startle it. But mostly she thought it was the memory of his kiss in the darkness, the way he had taken it, how he had groaned and given into her response in that one brief moment before his senses returned.

“What did he tell you?” Shane’s spine straightened slightly, breath catching in his chest. He went completely still, like a deer caught in the shine of a poacher’s flashlight.

“He said he saw the way you look at me.” She hesitated, hearing his intake of breath when her hand moved to his thigh. Leaving it there, halfway up, she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder, feeling him breathing again. “And he saw the way I look at you.”

“What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

“Nick said he had the feeling, if he hadn’t been around, we might have ended up together.” Dusty lifted her chin to see his reaction. He didn’t look surprised, not like she had been. They were very close now. Close enough she could see the reddish stubble on his cheeks and the gold flecks in the light blue of his eyes and that little divot above his lip. She had the impulse to touch him there and repressed it.

“You and me?” he asked, pondering it, lips pursed in thought, making her think about that damnable kiss. She didn’t understand why she was feeling this way. First, the funeral home. Now they were both sitting on her brother’s grave. What was it about her dead brother that revved up her libido around Shane? It went beyond crazy and slipped into the realm of the surreal.

“You and me.” She nodded slowly, fascinated by the shape of his mouth.

“I don’t know.” Shane blinked those striking blue eyes at her, both eyebrows raised. Her attention was drawn down to his mouth again when he licked his lips, drawing the lower one thoughtfully in before asking, “What do you think?”

“I don’t understand why…” She didn’t. She didn’t understand any of it. Her world made no sense anymore. Nick was dead and Shane was here, offering her comfort and something else—she didn’t even know what—after all the years they’d spent sparring and going after each other’s throats.

But he’d come looking for her, had known she would be in the closet. He’d known her temper well enough to hold her back when she would have gone after the idiotic sheriff with her bare hands. And he’d held her and rocked her and let her cry when she needed to, which was far more than anyone else in her life seemed to want to do.

She didn’t understand it, but she knew she was feeling it. And whatever “it” was, it was powerful. Magnetic. It made her want to act, to do something reckless, careless, shameless. It made her feel like she had in the closet of the funeral home, ready to strip down to nothing and give into the feeling. It made her feel like doing that now, right here, on her brother’s grave. It felt wrong and right at the same time.

“What don’t you understand?” he prompted.

Dusty took a deep breath, reaching out and doing it, touching that little divot above his parted lips. She didn’t stop there, tracing the delicious shape of them, feeling him go still again, but it was different this time. This sort of stillness was more predator than prey. It was like the watchful, waiting crouch of an animal.

“I don’t understand why,” she whispered, swallowing as she let her finger trail down over his Adam’s apple, feeling him swallow. “But I think Nick wanted us to kiss and make up.”

“Do you want to?” He turned more fully toward her, the question in his eyes.

“Kiss?” Her finger traced the V of his t-shirt, his jacket still undone.

“Yes.”

His lips were slightly parted, wet. So were hers. They were so close she’d lost focus and longed to close her eyes. Her body thrummed, so very alive, and the irony didn’t escape her because they were surrounded by death. Everything else faded away, lost its shape, until all she could focus on was Shane’s presence, the heat of his body, the way his hands moved down the curve of her shoulders to grip her upper arms.

“I don’t know why,” she confessed, finally letting her eyes close in anticipation, feeling him drawing her closer by micro increments. “But yes. Yes. Yes.”

She whispered the last three words, her lips almost touching his. His breath was warm, fruity and sweet, fingers tightening their grip on her arms.

 

BIO

Emme Rollins is Top 100 Amazon Bestselling New Adult/Mature Young Adult fiction. She’s been writing since she could hold a crayon and still chews her pen caps to a mangled plastic mess. She did not, however, eat paste as a kid.

She has two degrees, a bachelor’s and a master’s, one of which she’s still paying for, but neither of which she uses out in the “real world,” because when she isn’t writing, she spends her time growing an organic garden to feed her husband and children (and far too many rabbits and deer!) where they live on twenty gorgeous forested acres in rural Michigan.

She loves tending her beehives (bees are wonderful pollinators and Hello!? Honey!) and keeping up with her daily yoga practice and going for long walks in the woods with her boxer, Rodeo, who loves chasing squirrels almost as much as Emme loves writing!

Social Media Links

Site: http://www.emmerollins.com

Blog: http://www.emmerollins.com/blog

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/emmerollinsfanpage

Twitter: http://twitter.com/emmerollins

Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/104962183698626394500

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/18901147-emme-rollins

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/emmerollins/

Tumblr: http://emmerollins.tumblr.com/

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Guest Blogger: Kacey Hammell

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WMS_blogtourSetting goals are always important. Here’s the top 5 that I am shooting for the most…

  1. Own my own Mustang one day – okay so this has nothing to do with writing exactly, but in a way it does. I’ve been inspired by Mustangs to write the Revved & Ready series! *g*
  2. Meet 3 of the most inspiring authors I’ve read since I was in my teens, whose work has always given me a place to turn to and escape the world. Those 3 authors are – Nora Roberts/JD Robb, Sandra Brown & Suzanne Brockmann (I have the chance to meet Suz at RT Convention in New Orleans next year. Keep your fingers crossed for me!)
  3. Win an award for my writing. Perhaps someday I can add “award winning author” to my taglines. *g*
  4. Publish with another author. I’m always in awe of writers who can pen a story together. I’d love to accomplish this one day.
  5. Visit Ireland and write a story/series set in such a gorgeous place.

’69 MUSTANG

By Kacey Hammell

Book 1: Revved and Ready Series

Contemporary Erotic Romance

ISBN: 9780987799319

Word Count: 4,415 Short Story

Only $0.99 cents!!!

69 MustangRevved and Ready for passion, heat sizzles between two friends…

For Hayley Fitzgibbon, the heat wave blanketing her small town is nothing compared to the inferno inside her whenever she looks at her best friend, Rory. On the night of his parents’ anniversary party, she no longer resists her burning desire and makes it known how much she wants him. Secluded under a willow tree, down a lover’s lane, she’s revved and ready to claim her man on the top of his ’69 Mustang.

 

Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2013:

“The party was fantastic, Rory. Your parents looked so happy.” Hayley Fitzgibbon shifted in the front seat of the black ’69 Ford Mustang her long-time best friend owned since he turned twenty-one. She’d come to love it as much as he did, how it handled. It still hummed like it had when brand new. No car was sexier to her. Mustangs, especially the classic ’69 had lines that were slick, masculine and just screamed fast and hardcore. The vibration from the engine tingled through the back of her thighs and buttocks causing a delicious thrill through her body. “Thanks for driving me home. It was a great celebration. I can’t believe your parents have been married fifty years.”

“Yeah. It’s practically unheard of these days.” Rory clicked on his blinker then turned right. “They really seemed to like the gift Max and I got them. You think so?”

She nodded and brushed the white shrug off her shoulders. The heat wave spreading through Belleville, Ontario had reached staggering levels in the last couple of days. The air conditioning in the car barely cooled her skin. Plus being such an enclosed space alone with him after hours of dancing, soft touches as they mingled and were less than five feet away from one another all night had her on edge. “Of course they did. Who wouldn’t want to take a three-week cruise around the Caribbean? I’ll be sure to remind you and your brother of your generosity for my next birthday.”

He laughed and winked. “You’d have to be a very, very good girl.”

I’ll show you just how good I can be. Hayley pushed the thought away. For weeks she’d been having the same dream over and over. The erotic fantasies starring herself and Rory had left her breathless every time she woke, sweating and panting. It was all she thought about anymore. Images of the two of them having hot, sweaty sex—anywhere and everywhere—consumed her day and night. She trembled, flashes of heat zinging along her spine. Heart racing, she drew in a deep breath.

He captivated her in so many new ways these days. His kindness had always been there, but lately, she’d smile if mentioned helping an elderly lady get her groceries to the car. And the way he talked about himself, she got upset and angry. He complained about being a ginger, especially in the summer when he burned easily, but she loved his unique looks. Kind of geeky and studious mixed with sexiness and cute buoyancy he didn’t realize he possessed. She disliked hearing him put himself down.

How were any of her new reactions possible? They’d been best friends forever, and had shared all their secrets with one another.

Maybe the intense and potent way he looked at her now. At times when she’d glance at him, she’d catch darkness and smoldering heat in his eyes that made it difficult to breathe. Was it because she’d slimmed down over the last eight or nine months. She didn’t want to think about him like that, knew deep down that he wasn’t that shallow. But he had been giving her the eye lately, passion-filled stolen glances. Since then, the air around them had shifted.

He hadn’t hidden his reaction to her tonight when he’d picked her up for his parents’ anniversary party either.  Rory’s normally soft hazel eyes had turned a golden rich hue, and when she walked out of her bedroom, he’d let his gaze roam over her body. She knew she looked great in the bright blue satin, off-one-shoulder, mid-thigh gown that really made the azure in her eyes pop. Perhaps he agreed. His breath had hitched, his hands shook as he’d helped her with her shrug. His touch had lingered on her shoulders longer than needed. The warmth from his palms scalded against her already hot skin. He’d stood inches behind her, smoothing his hands down her back, and electricity tingled through her body, filling her with sudden fervor and desperation to feel his embrace. And make some of those naughty dreams she’d been having come true.

“You’ll be what, thirty-seven in a couple months, Hales? Maybe we should plan a cruise or something awesome for your fortieth? You’d look amazing in a skimpy bikini you know. Maybe a nude beach?”

The sound of Rory’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She gulped and cleared her dry throat. “Um, yeah. Sure.” The air in the vehicle was nearly smothering.

“Hey.” He laid a hand on her thigh. Hayley gasped. Heat shot along the skin, hitting her straight to her pussy. Her pulse raced. “It’s like you’re in another world. You okay?”

“Of course,” Trying to mask her nerves, she laughed away his concern. “Fine. Just warm in here.” And I want you. So bad.

 

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Kacey HammellAvid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…

Canadian-born author, Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic, who began reading romances at a young age and became easily addicted.  These days, as a multi-published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass and emotion to the Contemporary Romances she writes.

A mom of three, Kacey has made certain each of her children know the value of the written word and the adventures they could escape on by becoming book-a-holics in their own right. She lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada, and is a true romantic at heart.

Connect with Kacey…

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

 

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