Breathe You In by Lily Harlem

Guest Blogger, , , , ,

Breathe You InBlurb

Soul-aching desire was just the beginning!

If the road to Heaven starts in Hell then I was ready to start climbing my way out and Ruben Strong was the man to accompany me. With his devastating good looks, seductively sexy charm and lust for adrenaline he was sure to make it a sensual and erotic experience as well as one to re-awake the passionate, throw-caution-to-the-wind woman I’d once been.

I’d given Ruben something, though, without him realizing, and that gift had come from the man I’d loved before. But I couldn’t tell Ruben. I had to keep that a tight secret even as our naked bodies wound together, sought out pleasure and hit the dizzy heights of ecstasy as one. Because Ruben had my husband’s heart, literally, and that heart was still in love with me, so it seemed, and now I was in love with Ruben.

Emotions tangled with bliss, and fears were locked away as I surrendered to the touch of Ruben’s hands, the taste of his skin and the sounds of his pleasure. I couldn’t deny that Ruben had brought me back to life the same way I had him and there was no way I was giving up that feeling, not for anyone.

Reader advisory – Breathe You In is a romance with themes of love, loss and hope and contains several explicit sex scenes.

 

Excerpt

My new flat felt alive, as if it were a real home. The sweet, grassy breeze ambled from the living room to the kitchen. The pan on the stove was bubbling away, creating steam that clung to the window. The tangy smell of the onions I’d fried filled my nose, and I could hear the TV, only the news, someone talking, but knowing Ruben was in the living room, that it wouldn’t be empty and soulless when I moved from one room to the other, created a feeling of hope in me—one that made me warm and content for the first time in a long time.

I also felt I knew Ruben better for having seen a glimpse into his old life. Understood how much he’d had to change because of his illness. Maybe he was right. Perhaps he would go back to his old job one day. Return to a wild, hedonistic, fast life of racing and globe trotting and leggy women with perfect bodies. I couldn’t show him my old life, or ever go back to it, but it had been nice to see his.

I flicked the pasta off the boil and stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand on the frame, pushing my hair from my face with the other.

Ruben looked up. Stared at me. He pulled in a deep breath and frowned.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, I…”

I didn’t move. “What?”

“It’s just…”

“Tell me?”

He smiled. “You’ll think I’m being stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

“I had a dream last night, it just came back to me, really vivid.”

“What was it about?” I straightened.

“You.”

“Me?” I couldn’t deny the little thrill that word gave me, to think I’d been in this handsome man’s dream.

“You were stood, just like that, in a doorway, holding the side, fiddling with your hair.”

“Whose doorway?”

He silenced the TV. Put the remote on the tall table by the sofa. “Mine. My bedroom.”

“I see.”

He trailed his gaze down my body. Licked his lips.

“And what was I wearing?” I asked. Part of me was desperate to know, the other part afraid to ask. This was a new way for me to be with anyone other than Matt.

“White,” he said. “You were in white.”

“A dress?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Oh, no, white stockings with lace around your thighs. White teeny, tiny knickers and a corset?style top, you know that…” He put his cupped hands on his chest and smiled. “That made you look really pretty here.”

“Sounds like a very detailed dream.”

“It was. It was hot.” He nodded, bit on his bottom lip. “You were hot.”

A tremble started in my stomach and moved lower. Ruben thought I was hot. Hot enough to dream in detail about me. That in itself was like being kissed passionately. It turned my attraction for him to top level; it made me feel like the woman I had been once.

I even remembered a white outfit like that. It was something I’d taken on honeymoon to surprise Matt with one night. I could almost see his face again. His eyes instantly heavy with lust, his lips moist where he’d licked them the moment I’d appeared in the doorway.

Ruben was wearing the same look now, and he shifted on the sofa the same way Matt had shifted on the bed.

Taking a deep breath, I walked toward Ruben, wishing I had that outfit on, and straddled his lap. I dug my knees into the cushions and I rested my hands on his shoulders, let my bum settle on his thighs.

“Tell me more?” I said in what I hoped was a suitably sexy voice.

Ruben swallowed, frowned a little and looked into my eyes. “We were alone, there was only us there. It was warm, you smelled of fruit—papaya, melon, all things sweet.”

I smiled. “This is a very specific dream.”

He touched my cheek with the back of his index finger. “I know, and it’s all flooding back to me like it was a real memory.”

“Maybe we should make it real, one day.”

“I’d like that.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?” he said with a smile.

“I’m not gorgeous, not really.”

He jerked his head. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, the women you must have had, you know, when you and Dean Cudditch were out together, swanning around glamorous places.”

“That was just fun. Messing about, there was never anyone serious. I was too busy traveling the world, being part of the winning team.”

“But weren’t they…?”

“They weren’t you. Katie. Matt must have told you all the time how beautiful you are. I get the impression from you that he was a great bloke, a wonderful husband who made you feel special and treasured.”

I nodded. “He was, he did, but…” I glanced downward, kept that delicate balance of mine on the straight and narrow. “But now, well, I’m a bit thinner than I was and smiles don’t come so easy.”

“I’ve seen you smile plenty since I met you, and each one has gone into my happy memory bank.”

His words made me smile again.

“See, beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you. It’s nice to hear someone say that.”

“It’s nice to have a sexy woman sitting on my lap.” He kissed me, softly, and stroked his fingers through my hair.

I broke the kiss and touched his hair too. I loved the longish strands and the way they flowed through my fingers like fluid silk.

He slid his hands down the column of my neck and reached for the first button on my work blouse. As he undid it, his smile slipped, and his eyebrows hung heavy in concentration.

My heart tripped. My nipples tightened. The dark look in his eyes was so sexy it went straight to my head, like a shot of alcohol.

He undid the next button, and the next, his jaw seeming to get tenser with each twist of his fingers.

I sat absolutely still, the tops of his thighs pressing into the backs of mine. Watching his face, each blink, each slight twitch of his cheek and the way he dampened his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. It was all making me want to grab him for a kiss but equally kept me frozen, fascinated.

When all the buttons were undone, he looked up at my face. It was a silent question.

I glanced out of the window—nothing but treetops.

I nodded.

Carefully, he slid the blouse off my shoulders, revealing my white lacy bra. It had a small daisy in the center of the cups and one at the base of each strap.

“That’s so much better than my dream,” he whispered, his breath like a caress on my chest. “And you are perfect.”

Words danced on my tongue. Words that wanted to explain that I used to be a cup size bigger and filled out my bra better. That maybe I would again one day. But I held them in, swallowed them down. They had no place in this moment with Ruben. Besides, he looked happy with what he saw.

I reached behind myself, unclipped the hook of my bra, let it fall open, but then held it in place with one arm across my chest.

“Katie, if you want to wait…?”

“No, this is fine. More than fine, I want this.” I let the straps slide off my arms and tossed the bra to the floor. “It feels right with you.”

And it did. I’d worried that I’d feel like an adulterous woman being with another man. But with Ruben, well, it was different. Matt was part of it. Part of Ruben. Part of us.

Ruben collected the slight weight of the undersides of my breasts in his hands. Watching his own movements, he parted his lips and his features softened.

His touch was electric and sent a plethora of forgotten sensations blasting through my chest, spiking my nipples and making my flesh feel heavy and engorged.

I pressed into him, just a little, needing more but not wanting to appear greedy. Fearing if I did that, I’d push myself into a wall and cause the bubble to shatter.

He rubbed his thumbs over my nipples. They were tiny stalks, erect and tight. I stuttered in a breath, the stimulation arousing and wonderful.

He glanced up at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, I like you touching me.”

“I like touching you.” The left side of his mouth rose into a languid half grin.

He moved his right hand to the center of my back. Held me firm as he leaned forward and took my left nipple into his mouth.

I gasped and ran my hands into his hair, held him close and arched my spine. Damn, it had been so long since I’d enjoyed this feeling. It was heavenly. Releasing a breath, I watched as the huff of air from my lungs shifted the hair on the top of his head. He moved to the other breast, feeding my nipple into his mouth and tweaking it with his tongue. He massaged and gently squeezed the now damp breast he’d just given attention to.

A type of fever was growing in me. But it was fever of the good kind. Between my legs felt heavy, needy. I had the urge to move just a fraction farther forward in Ruben’s lap and see if the erection I suspected was there was as hard as it had been yesterday.

I stayed still.

Ruben kissed up my sternum, my neck, and found my mouth. He was still fondling my right breast as he kissed me, wetly, hungrily and with a little less control than yesterday.

Running my hand down his chest and over his belly, I found his groin. The folds of denim could do nothing to hide the swell of his hard cock. I itched to hold it, release it. Learn the shape and weight of him the way he’d just done to me. I popped the top button, but as I did so, he grabbed my wrist, pulled back from our kiss.

“Katie,” he said slightly breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” I stilled.

He looked away.

“We can be ourselves together,” I said gently. “Tell me.”

“I like that.” He gently pinched my chin with his fingers and thumb.

“What?”

“That there is a ‘we’. Us together.”

“Me too.” I grazed my lips over his. “So tell me.”

He nodded and released my wrist. “It’s just, well, I want you to do whatever it is you want to do, but…”?He shut his eyes, as though frustrated with himself.

“But what?”

“But, well, I won’t deny it, I’m a bit anxious, you know, about doing this, with this.” He placed his hand on his chest.

“With your new heart?”

He nodded.

I took hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it up and over his head, threw it down by my bra. “This heart,” I said, placing a kiss over his scar, “is a good, strong heart that can handle me just fine.”

“I’m sure it will be okay it’s just…”

“You want to take it slow?” I shrugged. “I want to take it slow too. We don’t have to go all the way, not if it’s too soon. We can have some other fun.”

“God, you must think I’m a wimp.” A flash of wounded pride crossed his face.

“There’s nothing wimpy about that package you’ve got in your pants, mister. It’s feeling like a whole lot of hot, hard man to me.”

He laughed. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”

I smiled and pressed my palm over his cock, squeezed through the denim.

His face fell serious. “That feels good. Your hand on me.”

“I can make it feel even better, if you want me to.”

He paused, then nodded. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

I wriggled and slipped between his legs, so mine were folded on the floor and my shoulders were between his thighs. I began to undo the buttons on his jeans.

Lily Harlem Bio

Lily Harlem is a multi-published, award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She lives in the UK with her husband and a bunch of animals, all rescued, and loves to spend her days immersed in imagination.

Her books are a mixture of full-length novels and short stories, some are one offs, some are sequels or part of a series (all can be enjoyed as stand-alone reads). What they each have in common are colorful characters travelling on everyone’s favorite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t deliciously romantic and down and dirty sexy, it won’t be written, at least not by Lily. So with the bedroom door left well and truly open you are warned to hang on for a steamy, sensual ride – or rides as the case might be!

Links

Buy Links for Breathe You In

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Lily Harlem Links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

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

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

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Good Enough to Trust (Good Enough, Book 2 – Going Back) by Zara Stoneley

Guest Blogger, , , , , ,

Good Enough to TrustAn erotic romance, including menage, M/F/M and sex outdoors.

Do you trust the boy you loved, or the man you might?

Sophie has only one thing on her New Year’s resolution list – sorting out her life.

Losing her parents was hard, blaming herself hurt more – but was it really her fault, or was accepting the guilt easier than facing up to the truth?

Retracing her steps was never going to be easy, risking her heart again is even harder – and when there’s two men to choose from will it be easier to trust the man she’s never stopped loving, or the one that might give her the new start she needs?

Available from – Amazon (UK), Amazon (US)

EXCERPT

“No, because I’m not. Are you?” He didn’t wait for my answer. Just gently propelled me backwards until my back met the soft covering of the lichen-covered rocks and my hips tilted forward until I could feel the heat of his cock pressed hard against me.

“I’ve missed you so much, Sophie.” His hand slipped under my T-shirt burning a molten path up my body that left me whimpering. “Have you come back to torture me, show me what I’ve missed out on?”

I shook my head dumbly, because right now my brain hadn’t got the capacity to think, to answer questions, to do anything but pander to my body’s reactions.

“You shouldn’t have come back.” His voice was hoarse, his hand closed around my heavy breast, his thumb brushing over a nipple I knew was hard, but he was looking at me. Straight to the heart as they say.

“I had to.”

“Shit, Sophie.” And when he kissed me it wasn’t the exploration of yesterday it was hard, physical in a way that made me gasp, controlling and yet demanding, as though he had to catch up on all the years in between.

And it made me cry.

I clung to him, clung as though I was afraid he’d go, even though his hard body was pressed against mine, his mouth claiming mine. I could taste my salty tears as our teeth clashed, as his fingers meshed into my hair, as the hunger we’d both kept under control erupted. And I was shaking, trembling with need and anticipation as I tasted the lust in his mouth, felt the want in his body.

He grunted as the button of my jeans gave way for him and his hand forced its way into my panties, his fingers slipping into my wet channel. I lifted my leg, wrapped it round him, my hand on his face as we drank from each other. And all I could do was rock against him, clutch at him, lick him and kiss him as the tears gradually slowed to a stop and a hunger that scared me took its place.

***

To read a longer excerpt visit Zara’s website.

Not Her Type by Kay Jaybee

Guest Blogger, , ,

Not Her TypeBlurb:

When Jenny’s regular film courier, John, reveals how she has become the center of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned.

One unexpected, head swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again, and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend that it hadn’t happened?

When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There is only one problem. John really really isn’t Jenny’s type…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4Extract:

What the hell am I doing? I’m a good girl; I just don’t do things like this.

A tiny fraction of Jenny’s conscience screamed at her. The remainder of her brain sent her hands on a thorough exploration of the densely haired chest that had unexpectedly appeared from beneath her companion’s polo-shirt The fact that Jenny had never liked men with hairy chests seemed irrelevant.

Standing in front of her, diving a hand under Jenny’s top, John squeezed her left nipple hard, wonderfully hard, making her squeal with pain-tingling gratification. Removing her shirt at top speed, John freed her breasts from their confinement.

Moving as if on auto-pilot, Jenny’s fingers visited the waistband of his trousers, but in her haste she couldn’t get his belt undone. Rescuing her from her embarrassment with a smile, John mumbled something about it always being difficult to open and undid it himself. Jenny barely heard him as a neat pair of charcoal grey boxers appeared, swiftly followed by—Oh My God—the most beautiful dick she had seen in years – perhaps ever.

As she knelt before him, the voice in Jenny’s head continued its rant, reminding her that she hated giving blowjobs. Since her first experience as a college student, she had liked neither the taste of cock nor the sensation of being gagged. Now, however, working on instincts she’d never known she had, Jenny took John deep into  her throat. She felt his fingers drag urgently through her knotty brown hair, raking her scalp as she greedily worked him around her mouth.

‘Hell, girl, have you any idea how often I’ve dreamt of you doing this?’ John confessed. ‘Night after night I wank about you, about you holding me in your throat like this.’

Jenny was consumed with a perverse pride as she listened to John’s words,  wondering if she should admit to the stolen moments she’d spent alone with a silver vibrator and her own filthy imaginings – imaginings contrary to her normal fantasies, imaginings that often featured him.

His penis felt fantastic in her mouth, but the restless ache in Jenny’s pussy was becoming unbearable, and she pulled away, panting. The instant she let go of his shaft, John tugged her back to her feet and grasped her butt, kneading it in a way that would give her bruises for days to come, while kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Conveniently forgetting that she didn’t like the feel of stubble against her skin, Jenny relished the burn of his unshaven face grazing her, scraping her cheeks as their lips and teeth clashed together.

Her head buzzed, her nipples were tickled by his chest hairs, and Jenny began to feel as if she were overdosing on desire. She badly wanted to slow everything down, but at the same time, she needed to go faster. She wasn’t far from climax, and the mere idea of their illicit situation was enough to send Jenny to the very edge of orgasm.

Recognizing how close she was, John shoved his customer’s knickers unceremoniously to her ankles. ‘I want to see you on your hands and knees,’ he ordered.

Sinking against the carpet as instructed, Jenny’s breathing snagged as she heard the sharp rip of a condom packet being opened. Seconds later, Jenny found her courier’s thick cock sliding into her from behind. She was about to tell him how fantastically full she felt when John wiped all coherent thought from Jenny’s head by jamming his thumb up her arse.

Nuzzling his mouth against Jenny’s neck, John thrust against her, holding her hips as they frantically moved together. Trembling, Jenny’s knees began to buckle and her elbows quaked. Seeing she was about to collapse to the floor, John eased out of her body and flipped her onto her back before plunging his dick inside her again. She clung onto his tattooed arms (ignoring her lifelong aversion to body art), relishing  the glorious warmth of her orgasm as he shot his spunk into her naked body.

As their breathing levels returned to normal, John knelt close to Jenny, teasing out the springy curls of her hair as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry Jen. I don’t like just walking out on you, but I have to go. I’m behind with my rounds.’

Jenny watched her courier dress with lightning speed, leaving in a flurry of promises and assurances that he’d return the following week.

Find Kay Jaybee here:

The Many Faces of Moorita Part 1

Blog, Interviews, News, , , , ,

An interview with Moorita Encantada

Moorita 9I can’t tell you how excited I am to be interviewing my multi-talented friend, Moorita Encantada. Moorita is not only a fabulous performer with an amazing creative mind, but she’s also my  co-conspiritor for the play, The Eye of The Beholder.

Moorita is a versatile cabaret and variety performer, and an unforgettable stage persona. Her acts combine a professional touch of a trained theatre performer and musician with an outstanding originality and unrestrained creative expression.

Wild, unpredictable and ever surprising, she has already brought a breath of fresh air to cabaret stages in London and beyond. Her work has been applauded at UK’s best cabaret nights and venues such as Madame Jojo’s, Proud Cabaret, Volupté and The Wet Spot Leeds, as well as internationally. But the fulfilment of her bigger artistic vision is only about to happen..

KD: Welcome, Moorita! Seeing you prefrom as Medusa at the Double Whammy launch party at Sh! a couple of weeks ago reminded me just how many faces Moorita Encantada wears, and I would love to know, as I’m sure the readers would, how did you get involved in burlesque, and why burlesque specifically?

Moorita: Close to two years ago now I went through a moment of a creative low. I was doing well at work but I was still imagequite disappointed with myself on the whole. I felt like the best part of me was dying, and if I wasn’t going to do something about it soon enough, it might be gone forever. I remember walking past Cafe de Paris in Piccadilly Circus and deciding I was going to find out how to become a showgirl. One thing led to anther, I enrolled on a burlesque course, created my first act, then another and started performing in London and beyond. The rest is history.

Moorita 11At first burlesque was an just a liberating adventure, but soon enough I understood it offered a unique opportunity for boundless artistic expression. Fully embraced burlesque equals classical theatre minus all social taboos. On top of this, even though I don’t see myself as a feminist, I enjoy the feministic taint of burlesque. Socially, we are presented with many conflicting ideas of who and how we should be as women. Performance art, and burlesque in particular, allows us to redefine, in an as radical a way as we please, what femininity means to every single one of us.

KD: I’m over the moon that you chose me to collaborate with on this wonderful project of ours, the burlesque play, The Eye of the Beholder, but I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d love to know what inspired the idea of a burlesque play, which as far as I know is very unique.

Moorita: I’ve always firmly believed that there is more to burlesque than vintage bras and fake jewels, I saw it as theatre and cabaret’s bastard child, with enormous potential. Seeing Howard Wilmot’s “Burlexe” (not quite a “burlesque play” but so much more towards the medium of the theatre than anything else on the scene) was to me the proof that burlesque audience is ready for a different quality of experience.

Moorita 10Even though our project is quite unique, there are several outstanding performers on the scene whose acts focus on the dramatic and story driven side of burlesque, such as Audacity Chutzpah or Shirley Windmill. Others I admire have a clear identity (or “edge”) and share my belief that the boundaries of burlesque can be stretched as far as one pleases: Miss Jones, Vivacity Bliss, Lolo Brow, Rubyyy Jones, Miss Cairo Mascara, etc. These performers, and others, contributed to my deep conviction that burlesque is an incredibly powerful performance art, the potential of which is really quite unexplored.

Finally, and most importantly, your skill as a writer, and your hugely empowering energy KD – as well as your pursuit of deeper meaning of erotica – convinced me that this partnership is a unique opportunity to create something outstanding.

KD:  Wow! Thanks, Moorita. *Smiling ear to ear* You made my day!  I’ve watched a good bit of burlesque, and I’d have to say your performances are not what I think most people would consider conventional burlesque. Forgive me if that statement is a bit of an oxymoron, but your performances tend to be both gritty and funny as well as amazingly beautiful, even moving. Can you tell us a bit about your approach to burlesque?

moorita 13Moorita: The funny thing is that even though I have an appreciation of classical burlesque – pinup, cheesecake, retro sirens, vintage lingerie and loads of rhinestones – and love watching it performed well, I’d never do it myself. I guess that because of my theatrical and musical training, most of the time I simply don’t find it challenging enough (and it’s at an intersection of outstanding creativity and a healthy challenge that really interesting things tend to happen).

In short, my acts are like Marmite – you will love them or hate them. I’m fully into risqué, intellectually provocative entertainment blurring the boundaries of artistic genres.

I’ve been told it’s my stage presence, energy, original, wacky ideas and good singing voice that make my acts demand an audience’s attention.

I think I’m a relatively talented comedienne (though I know many people who would outshine me!) and I usually seek a deeper meaning through story based performance. Even a simple burlesque act would usually be inspired by an insight, or a snapshot of a little fragment of reality, appropriately zoomed in and cropped.

KD: I know how exciting I’ve found this collaboration of ours to be, and how full of surprises, but I’d like to hear how you feel about it and what surprised you most, what excited you most, what’s been the most difficult?

Moorita: Wow, that’s quite a lot to think about!

Moorita 7In terms of surprise, I’m still bewildered that we actually made it happen. As they say, ideas are worthless and execution is everything. When we first started talking about the project, the idea in itself seemed amazing but it would have amounted to nothing if you hadn’t had lots of creative energy and found time to write it, and I hadn’t done pretty much the same to stage the “Medusa’s liar” scene.  Now that we’ve managed to execute on the idea, I’m proud and impatient to see it come together  wholly.

I was really excited while in the process of brainstorming the story and the staging of it when we first started. I adore that creative high, particularly if it happens between two people on the same wavelength, artistically speaking. I was  even more excited on the 20.04 though, while performing at Sh! It’s amazing to see a more or less abstract idea come into flesh in an interaction with real audience. I felt the energy flowing between all of us, it was one of those rare moments I felt totally aligned, doing the right thing, at the right place and in the right time. I’m sure you’ll understand what I’m talking about when I say it felt like getting a little wink from the Universe, as if to say “good work girl!”.

As is generally the case with ambitious projects people undertake, the most difficult were moments of self-doubt. Before the play was even written I hadMoorita 3 at least two established promoters wish me luck and say that in their opinion a “burlesque play” would never work. Consequently, once the first draft of the script was ready, I was impressed but at the same time overwhelmed by the thought of what an incredible challenge it was to get it all on stage! I could picture beautifully written scenes and well constructed characters in my head and I fully realised what talent, effort, and logistical challenge it was to make it all happen in the real world.. It was scary.

Now that I got my proof that the audience will love “The Eye of the Beholder”, I just want to move on with the rest of the play. I’m still aware of how much work it will take to complete the project, only now I actually look forward to getting it done! I guess I learnt that little internal critic insisting that “it can’t work” is the only enemy that really matters.

KD: Wow! Thanks so much for sharing your journey and your insites, Moorita. And thanks for sharing the adventure with me. It’s been a wild ride, and I venture to say, it’s just beginning.

Join us next Saturday for Part 2 of The Many Faces of Moorita, and more about The Eye of the Beholder.

 

 

Gracefully Aroused! And Just in Time for National Masturbation Month!

Blog, News, , , , , , , ,

Best of KDG final cover imageI’m sure it comes as no surprise that even before The Initiation of Ms Holly came out two and a half years ago, K D Grace was already being very, very naughty – filthy in fact. She already had smutty stories in two magazines and a dozen or so anthologies. In fact, when Holly found a home with Xcite Books, Xcite had already published several smutty stories by K D Grace in several anthologies, and there have been others since, though fewer and fewer as KD writes more and more novels and with the arrival of Grace Marshall on the scene.

I’m happy to announce that the lovely folks at Xcite have minds that are at least as filthy as mine. That being the case, they have collected all those naughty KDG stories, along with a couple of bonus stories just to round things out nicely, into one super-naughty volume, and it’s now available for anyone with a taste for hot erotica. AND just in time for Masturbation Month! No, I haven’t forgotten that May is National Masturbation Month! As if!  That being the case, it’s my pleasure to include a very filthy self-pleasuring excerpt for your naughty enjoyment.

Gracefully Aroused Blurb:

From a love spell that doesn’t quite go to plan to a farmhand who needs a little discipline; from a woman who is addicted to the confessional to a personal trainer with a very unorthodox method of guaranteeing his clients they’ll look fab come bikini season, K D Grace will tell you a naughty story with a twist. Before there was Ms Holly and the Pet Shop, before there were sexy ghosts, before Grace Marshall upped the romance ante, K D Grace was into quickies, and here’s a selection of her naughtiest.

Hired Hand
Pretty city boy, Tim Harris, is the last man Suzie Sheridan would have hired to help her on the farm had he not been the only one who applied for the job. But with strict discipline generously applied in all the right places, even Suzie is amazed at just how good a hired hand Tim turns out to be …

Personal Trainer
Penny Davis can’t afford to hire a personal trainer to get her fit for bikini season until ex-military hard man, Hawk Sturgis, offers her an unorthodox fitness regimen and an even more unorthodox payment plan, guaranteed to have her heating up the beach in her new bikini just in time for the summer hols.

Accidental Hitchhiker
On a road trip across America, Liz Martin’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, and the ride a Good Samaritan lorry driver offers her is not exactly the one she expected.

Productivity
Under the careful supervision of his unorthodox management consultant, a stressed company CEO learns a hands-on technique guaranteed to up productivity.

Flaws
Love spells are the most dangerous kind of magic. Mick Denver learns the hard way when he enlists Sally Haddon, a witch who specialises in sex magic, to help him win the affections of his new co-worker, the exquisite and dangerous Darlene.

Hard Times at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility
Sadie’s sexual appetite is out of control, and a spell at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility is intended to put it right. It isn’t long before fellow inmate Carol is showing her how to bend the facility’s strict rules, earning them both punishments that are more than worth the crime.

Confessions
Confession is good for the soul, but Hail Marys and Our Fathers aren’t nearly enough to gain absolution when Jilly confesses to an unsuspecting priest that confession makes her come.

Excavations
While volunteering on an archaeological dig, Gina and Mike discover new and exciting ways to help their workaholic professor relieve stress – and he introduces them to one or two methods of his own, which are far from academic.

Seeing Red
We all give off body heat, but only Jenny can see the red glow it gives off, darker and more intense the more turned on we become. When she’s compelled to follow a fellow bus passenger whose scarlet desires are too powerful to ignore, she learns the real secret of her unique vision.

Pheromones
An unusually powerful sense of smell gives Chloe the ability to sniff out the scents of people in lust. When she volunteers for a research trial into pheromones, she doesn’t realise the scientist in charge will have the perfect, sexy aroma she’s always craved in a lover.

*****

Excerpt from Productivity:

‘You want me to do what?’ Alan’s voice cracked in a sudden bout of nerves that would have been completely unacceptable at the negotiating table.

‘You heard me.’ Victoria spoke like she had just asked him to hand her the stapler. ‘I’d give you a little privacy and let you do it in the loo, but you’d tell me you’d done it when you actually hadn’t, and then you’d go into this meeting with the muscles in your shoulders still like rocks and the acid in your stomach still on the rise.’ She walked to the door like she owned the place and locked it. ‘It’s my job to prevent that, so come on,’ she nodded to the fly of his trousers. ‘Trust me, you’ll feel so much better afterward, and you’ll be amazed at how much better the meeting will go.’

He folded his hands protectively in his lap. ‘I can’t just yank one off right here in front of you.’

‘Course you can. I’ve got a copy of Hustler in my briefcase if that’ll help.’

He cursed under his breath and scooted as far back in his chair as he could get.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Look, you hired me to improve your productivity, to make you a better boss, and frankly, you’ve got no outlet.’

‘I’m going to the gym three times a week, just like you ordered. That’s an outlet, isn’t it?’

She tisk-tisked him. ‘Alan, you told me yourself you haven’t had a good shag in four years.’

‘Three and a half,’ he corrected.

She waved a dismissive hand. ‘The point is, humans are sexual animals, we have sexual needs, and whether you like it or not, the fact that yours aren’t getting met interferes with your productivity.’

‘You don’t know that.’

She gave him a hard stare over the top of her Sarah Palin glasses. ‘Look, when you hired me, a part of the deal was that you do as I say. I told you I’m too busy to waste my time with someone who isn’t serious about taking my advice.’

‘I know, but…’

‘You knew my methods were unorthodox. You also know that I’m the best. I get the job done when no one else can.’

‘Yes, but — ’

‘Then do it.’ She looked down at her watch. ‘You’ve got plenty of time. I planned it that way so you could relax and enjoy it.’ She raised a hand to squelch his protest. ‘Don’t tell me you need to go over your presentation. That’s rubbish. We both know you don’t. You probably have it memorized. I promise you, this will be much more beneficial than reviewing your notes.’ She nodded again to his fly.

When he still sat frozen in his seat, she heaved a busty sigh, grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of his. ‘If it’ll help, I’ll do it with you. Will that be better?’ She was already pulling her pencil skirt up over her hips to reveal red lace suspenders and knickers that were barely there. All at once it felt like the air had gone out of the office, and the sudden bulge in his trousers threatened to blow a seam.

‘There. You see?’ She nodded to his expanding package. ‘If it takes no more than a look at my knickers to make you hard, then I’d say I’ve proven my point.’

You can buy Gracefully Aroused Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Xcite Books