Elizabeth Black Talks about Strange Sexual Fetishes

Blog, Guest Blogger, , , , ,

Elizabeth Back Fetishexstar_wars_fetishFetishes are often used in erotic fiction, and I’m no stranger to them. Foot fetishes or a fetish for getting off on pain are sometimes seen in erotic fiction, especially BDSM fiction. I used two lesser known but not entirely unknown fetishes in my erotic fairy tales “Climbing Her Tower” (erotic Rapunzel) and “Trouble In Thigh High Boots” (erotic Puss In Boots”). I used two in “Trouble In Thigh High Boots” – maxophilia (breast fetish) and lactophilia (nursing fetish). I touch on beastiality in this one, but not much. I used one in “Climbing Her Tower” – trichtophilia (shaving fetish).

Want to know how I used these fetishes? You’ll have to read the books to find out. 🙂 Here are some hints – Tita in “Trouble In Thigh High Boots” is a feline shape shifter. Cats like milk. 🙂 In “Climbing Her Tower”, Rapunzel’s entire history is about her hair. The Prince has a shaving fetish. Opportunities abound.

Here are some widely-known fetishes. I’m sure you’re familiar with them.

* Necrophilia – sexual attraction to corpses. No, not your ex.

* Beastiality – sexual attraction to animals. Erotic romance writers have to be careful they don’t fall into beastiality territory when creating shifter characters, especially werewolves. One way to get around the beastiality problem is to not have the characters have sex when in animal form. I have created a character in an out-of-print book “Filthy Leuker” who shifts when he’s sexually aroused but he never goes full wolf. Beastiality is one of the more common fetishes erotic romance writers deal with.

* Furries! Does it say something squicky about me that I know what “yiffing” is?

Here are some lesser-known fetishes. Do you or anyone you know experience any of these? If so, you may need professional help, LOL.

* Sacofricosis – making a hole in your pants to accommodate public masturbation.

* Symorophilia – becoming aroused at real or staged accidents (like the movie “Crash”)

* Dendrophilia – sexual interest in trees. Not trees’ sexual interest in you, a la “The Evil Dead”.

* Autonepiophilia – sexual pleasure from dressing like an infant. Think Jerry Springer. It’s just creepy to see a fully grown man dressed like a baby – in an adult diaper, rolling around in baby food and crying for his mommy. That’s not sexy. That’s weird.

* Gerontophilia – sexual preference for the elderly. Filthy rich elderly, anyone?

* Ursusagalmatophilia (Plushophilia) – sexual interest in teddy bears. Makes you look at the Care Bears and Teddy Ruxpin in an entirely new and unsettling light.

* Hierophilila – sexual attraction to religious objects. Think “The Exorcist” and Regan masturbating with a crucifix.

* Menophilia – sexual excitement at the sight or smell of a menstruating woman. Love getting your red wings? Then you may have menophilia.

* Dacryphilia – sexual arousal at someone crying. Otherwise called being a wanker.

Oh, by the way, that image at the top? If you have a “Star Wars” fetish, you’re into Exophilia, sexual attraction to alien creatures. May The Force Be With You!

Now you know more about fetishes than you’ve ever wanted to know! Curious about my two erotic fairy tales and their fetishes? Here’s the dirt:

Beautiful lady in the coniferous forestCLIMBING HER TOWER

Erotic Rapunzel

Naughty Fairy Tales

Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://tinyurl.com/climbing-amazon-us

Amazon UK: http://tinyurl.com/climbing-amazon-uk

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/climbing-her-tower-elizabeth-black/1113575061

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/240609

Blurb:

This isn’t your mother’s Rapunzel.

This erotic version of Rapunzel, “Climbing Her Tower” depicts Rapunzel as a voracious woman who discovers the joys of kinky sex with a sexy prince with a few unusual kinks of his own. This story includes BDSM, M/F, M/F/F, virgin fantasy, and erotic shaving. You’ll get so hot you’ll want to let your hair down as well! Let Rapunzel and her prince take you on the sexual ride of a lifetime. Absolutely only for 18 years and over.

“”Climbing Her Tower” is an erotic twist to the fairy tale Rapunzel. I sure love a good fairy tale and this hot and steamy tale doesn’t disappoint.” — Beverly at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews

“Climbing Her Tower has all that and more. It is the story of Rapunzel told with a bit of a BDSM twist.” — Hitherandthee from Night Owl Reviews

WARNING: Rapunzel isn’t sweet and innocent. In this fairy tale erotica, she tires of being a virgin and craves the touch of Prince Richard’s hands all over her body. Although she begins naive, she blossoms with sexual excitement under the watchful eye of her prince, who introduces her to BDSM, erotic shaving, and deep penetration. He leaves her wanting more, and you will want more too!

Excerpt:

Stars shined in the sky when she heard, “Let down your hair!” Why would Mother come to visit her late at night? She visited only during the day. Always a good girl who did what she was told, she coiled her hair around the hook and struggled once again with the braid, feeling the weight as Mother climbed her tresses. She seemed heavier than usual this evening, maybe because Rapunzel was tired.

When a tall, strapping man climbed through her window, she drew back in both fear and … something else. Her skin tingled and her heart raced, but she didn’t know why. What kind of effect did this man she recognized from the meadow earlier that day have on her?

“Please don’t be afraid,” he said. “I heard your beautiful voice and I needed to see you up close. You’re more beautiful here in front of me than you are from a distance.”

So he heard me sing… She wondered if he was a god like Zeus (Mother read to her about Zeus), and would he take her by force the way the manly Zeus had taken women in the Greek myths? Despite her confusion, she felt a rush of heat course through her body and her skin rose in goose bumps of excitement at the mere presence of him. His smell was intoxicating – of oiled leather and sweat – and she inhaled deeply to immerse herself in his scent. Her entire body tingled in anticipation of what he might do to her, and she realized with a bit of alarm that she wanted him in her tower, alone, to be at his mercy.

She tried to step toward him but her hair held her in place. She turned to her braid and yanked it bit by bit up the tower. The lovely man came to her side, dragging her heavy tresses up the tower and helping her untangle them from the hook until she stood before him, hair free, piled in a mountain at her feet.

“May I touch you? You seem too heavenly to be real.” His strong hand alighted on her shoulder, sending ripples of pleasure up and down her arm. What was happening to her? Why was her heart racing so quickly that she couldn’t catch her breath? Why did the mere touch of this man make her jump? What would it be like to feel his clean-shaven cheek or – better yet – place one small hand on his massive chest to feel the beat of his heart?

He rubbed her blouse at the hem. “What’s this made of? It’s very soft.”

“My hair. I knit clothing from my hair to pass the time.” Taking a chance, she placed her palm against his chest and felt the rise and fall of his rapid breathing. “Who are you?”

“I’m Richard, Prince of Norwich, the ruler of this land. I’ve seen your tower before but I had never seen you in it. What’s your name? Why are you here?”

“My name is Rapunzel. I live here.”

“Such a lovely name… Don’t you want to leave, to see the world around you? There’s an entire town behind your tower.”

Surprised, she thought the meadow surrounded her tower for many miles, isolating her in her loneliness. “So that’s why I hear engines and smell food cooking but I can’t figure out where it’s coming from.”

He took her in his arms, and she didn’t fight his embrace. His grip around her body was firm yet gentle, and she buried her face in his long, charcoal hair. “Let me take you away from here.”

Did she want to leave? She felt safe in her tower but she yearned to run in the long meadow grass far from it, or feel the wind blow through her hair as she rode behind him on his horse. Yes, I want to go, but how? Mother will never let me leave here.

“Take me away with you,” she said.

“Yes, I shall take you far from this tower. How long have you lived here?”

“My whole life.”

“But why? Who would keep you imprisoned here?”

“My mother, but I’m not imprisoned. She’s protecting me.”

“From what? There is nothing in the world to be afraid of. Quite the opposite. I want to show you the world, my fair one. But first, I must touch you.” He brushed her long hair out of her eyes. “May I?”

“Touch me where?”

“Here.” He lowered his face until his lips brushed against hers, like a breeze through the heather in the meadow. Never before kissed by a man, she froze in both fear and arousal, alert to his touch but unable to move. His lips traveled from hers to her cheek, her chin, and her neck, and upon reaching her throat, she gasped with excitement. Yes, she wanted to feel his lips upon her skin, his hands upon her body. Why had Mother kept her in this tower, away from the world? What was out there that scared Mother so?

His gentle touch aroused more goose bumps on her sensitive skin, eager for teasing and the feel of his wet tongue on her warm flesh. His mouth sucked on her skin, bringing forth a gasp of breath from her in both alarm and excitement. She wrapped her arms around his back, slowly at first, and then with more urgency. He felt rugged and manly, qualities she had only heard about but never before experienced.

Her first man pressed his firm lips against the pulse in her throat, and she felt the stubble on his jaw against her tender skin. So this is what a man feels like! So strong and firm, hard yet gentle all at once. Her head spun with the fever of his kisses against her throat and she stretched her head back to give him more room. Heart racing in her chest, she felt the pulsing sinews on his back through his frock coat and then, with trepidation, moved her shaking hands to his broad chest, palms exploring every inch of his luscious body. Strong arms, ripped with muscles, wrapped around her body and held her so tightly he nearly lifted her from the floor.

Stars spun before her eyes and she felt light-headed with arousal and excitement. His hands pressed against her delicate back with such force, she feared he would snap her in two. His touch stirred deep emotions in her that she both feared and relished; she wanted to give her will over to her arousal and to his desire. Her head spun in the throes of his stimulating kiss as his lips traveled from her throat to her waiting mouth. He crushed his lips against hers, taking her breath away, and her head spun in ecstasy.

As he parted her lips with his own he slipped in his tongue. At first alarmed, since she had never heard of such a kiss, she struggled against him; but in his tight grip, she was helpless to escape. His tongue explored her mouth, brushing against her teeth, and she gave into his amorous moves. He tasted of brandy and tobacco, a heady combination. Dizzy with the thrill of his touch, she pulled her head away from him when he released her pouting mouth; but she was eager to taste more of him.

“You feel so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear as his lips pressed against her jaw. “May I lift your skirts? I want to see your legs.”

Once again, she nodded without speaking. She wanted to feel his hands upon her body. She’d watched him from her tower for days now, enamored of his curiosity, wondering what he looked like. She knew him from a distance, and now he was up close, touching her, arousing her. He lifted her skirts and moaned in delight at what he saw.

Beautiful lady in the coniferous forestTROUBLE IN THIGH HIGH BOOTS

Erotic Puss In Boots

Naughty Fairy Tales

Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://tinyurl.com/trouble-amazon-us

Amazon UK: http://tinyurl.com/trouble-amazon-uk

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/trouble-in-thigh-high-boots-elizabeth-black/1113575032?ean=2940044970694

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/240534

Blurb:

This isn’t your mother’s Puss In Boots.

This erotic version of Puss In Boots, “Trouble In Thigh High Boots” is a story packed with hot, sexy, body humping adult fairy tale erotica.

“Trouble in Thigh High Boots is a delightfully creative retelling of the Puss in Boots tale. It is a tale that has been told myriad times, but never in such a wonderfully imaginative way. The characters are enchanting, and the story flows beautifully. The love scenes are sizzling.” — Hitherandthee of Night Owl Reviews

WARNING: Tita isn’t your run of the mill Puss In Boots. She’s a cat shapeshifter who turns into a mouth-wateringly sexy human woman with a sex drive to match. This story includes M/F, F/F, M/F/M/F, light bondage, and lactation. This erotic fairy tale will get you hot in all the right places. Definitely for only 18 years and over.

Excerpt:

Her stiletto heels clicked on the hardwood floor, attracting the king’s attention. When he turned toward her, her heart nearly stopped at the unabashed thrilled look on his face when he set eyes on her. She sniffed the air and smelled castile soap and fragrant oil of rosemary. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he expected me. Maybe his knights told him I was on my way.

“Ah, cat, you have returned! How delightful!” The king’s jolly laugh boomed around the high-ceilinged room. “My sister told me she saw you on the road. Your rabbits were absolutely delicious. I saved a morsel in case you returned.”

She smiled and batted her lashes at him. Stop it! You’re acting like a peckish school girl with a bad crush! “You are too kind, Your Highness. Before I accept your gracious offer of food, might I offer you another present from the Marquis of Carabas?”

“Another present? Your Marquis is quite impressive. First, the fattest rabbits I’ve seen in these parts in a long time, and now more gifts! Yes, please, do show me what you have to offer.”

Oh, I’ll show you much more than you expect, sire. She lifted her knapsack and prepared to open it, but hesitated. The king looked dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want this gift to be a special surprise for you, sire, but I can’t have you looking at me when I give it to you.”

“Well, what shall we do then?”

“I had an idea.” She opened the knapsack a tiny bit, reached inside, and pulled out a silk blindfold. “How about we play a game?”

He clapped his hands. “I love games! Cat, you are quite the adventuress!”

Little do you know… “I do my best, Your Highness.” She held the blindfold between her claws. “May I approach you and slip this over your eyes, sire?”

“Of course you may.”

“You trust me?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“How do you know I won’t shield your eyes and then slit your throat?”

“Because there’s something special about you, cat. I can’t put my finger on it, but you are very intriguing. I’m willing to trust you with my life.”

Her heart melted at his words, and she took great pride in feeling his affection even though he had not yet seen her in her human form. What would he think of her once he saw her long legs, full breasts, and thick tawny hair? Would he ravish her when he felt the warmth from her heart and tasted the sweetness of her breath? How would he react to the tenderness she longed to give him?

When would he remember her, if he remembered her at all? She had never spoken to him or shifted in front of him when she lived in the castle. Her heart ached with love and memories of his tender caresses and playful roughhousing. If only he recalled her!

She walked to him as he sat in his favorite chair, and then she leapt onto his lap. He ran his fingers through her long fur without thinking twice about it, as many humans did when accosted by a cat, although certainly not most. She had met her share of men and women who beat her and threw pans of water at her. Zane’s face flashed into her mind. When would she see him again? Tita knew he would make another appearance soon, aware of his cruelty and greed. She shook her head and quickly shoved his memory away. She would not allow him room in her head to ruin her time with the king.

Thankfully, her king was not cruel. She purred with pleasure as he scratched her behind her ears. Ooooh, he found my most sensitive sweet spot! I can’t stand it! Let me at him! In a fit of arousal, she rubbed her mouth against his hand, leaving her scent on his skin.

She stared into his deep blue eyes and paused before lifting her blindfold. I wonder if he can see into my soul when he gazes into my eyes. One look will show him a world he’s never before seen. She gazed at him, wishing he could read her mind, to sense the love she felt for him.

“You have lovely eyes, cat. The color of a deep sea – quiet on the surface, but I suspect there is quite a bit of turmoil in those depths.” He ran one hand over her back, stroking her length until she arched in response. “Your eyes are very human. Long-lashed and expressive. Are you enchanted?”

“In a way, sire, yes I am. But I’m not cursed. I can give you what you need.”

“And what might that be?”

“Let me show you.” She slipped the blindfold over his eyes and waited for him to sit back and relax. When his breathing eased, she curled into his lap, placing both paws on his shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. And whatever you do, don’t remove the blindfold. I’m about to give you my surprise.”

As her body lengthened and stretched, she stroked his hair. Paws elongated into palms and fingers and she scratched his scalp with her long nails. He moaned and curled his head into her embrace, but as her furry body grew into curvy feminine form, he backed away with a gasp of alarm.

“Please don’t be afraid,” she whispered in a deep, mellow voice that sang in his ear. “I won’t hurt you.” She guided his hands from his sides to her bare hips. “Touch me. Feel me.”

 

 

 

 

It’s no Secret. It’s FREE! The Secret Life of Pets that is!

Blog, News, , , , , , , ,

If you missed it the last time, I’m very excited to announce another FREE taste of my critically acclaimed novel, The Pet Shop! Alongside the original novel, The Pet Shop is now being offered by Xcite in a limited Kindle three-part edition. The second part, The Secret Life of Pets, is once again available for FREE for five days on Amazon from the 24th April through the 28th. And, since Xcite are only too aware that Pets are addicting, to help feed your addiction for hot kinky romance, Part One, The Gift, and Part Three, The Taming, are just £.77 each in the UK and $1.19 in the US.

(Just a quick reminder. If you’re an early bird on the other side of the Pond, the U.S. link may be available a few hours later than the UK link because of the time change.)

Here’s a little teaser of what you’ll find in The Secret Life of Pets. Download your copy FREE, and you’ll find out what the secret is.

Blurb:                               

Obsessed with finding out about Tino and his connection with Vincent Evanston, Stella enters the secret world of the Pet Shop in the only way possible, by becoming a Pet herself. As her animal lust awakens, Stella discovers the delicious crossover of the world of Pets and Keepers when Vincent takes her home as his Pet. But Stella wants the best of both worlds. Will she ever be able to have it?

Excerpt:

Stella was still struggling to make sense of it all when the door opened. She could see a silhouette darkened against the moonlit sky before the door closed, then there were footsteps across the complaining wood floor and the Boss knelt beside her with a leash, which he clipped into the D-ring of her collar and held her gaze. He stood without saying a word, and she stood next to him, her legs suddenly unsteady. Was she going to have sex with him?  Not that he wasn’t an attractive man, but he was her boss and sex would add another complication she didn’t need. He led her out into the night, back along a narrow pavement, down a steep set of stairs and through a heavy wooden door.

Before she had a chance to get frightened, the Boss flipped on a light switch and a cavernous room immerged out of the shadow into details she failed to notice. Her whole attention was drawn to the pallet on the floor in the corner where Tino lay naked, blinking hard at the bright invasion on light-deprived pupils. He yawned and stretched and wiped sleep from his eyes. When he saw her, he came to his feet expectantly. As always, it was impossible for her not to notice his lovely penis, already at half-mast and rising. He laid a hand against it, not like he was about to masturbate, more like he was taking the reins of a powerful animal.

The Boss chuckled softly. ‘I can almost hear your fear and anger, Stella, and I assure you there’s no need for either. This is where Tino sleeps whenever he’s here. Not sure why he prefers the dungeon to far more plush places in which a Pet of his status could sleep. Perhaps because he spends so much time down here anyway being punished for bad behaviour, and I assure you, he gets far less than he deserves. He unhooked the leash and nodded toward the big Pet. ‘Go on. If the two of you were magnets it would be easier to keep him from you.’

It was all she could do to keep from crying out his name as he scooped her into his arms. Any further slippage of speech was stopped by Tino’s insistent mouth startling in its familiarity. Her throat tightened and her eyes welled, as he took her face between large hands and kissed her repeatedly, ravenously, as though he would never stop. But when he did, it was because they had both become once again aware that the Boss was still standing there, arms folded across his chest, watching.

When they stood staring at him expectantly, he pulled out a metal folding chair and sat down deliberately. ‘Oh, I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re waiting for. I did scheme to get the two of you together, that’s true.’ He waved a hand. ‘And I expect you to do whatever nasty things your libidos drive you to, but I expect you to do them while I watch.’

He turned his gaze on Stella, whose insides suddenly twisted in a writhe of nerves. ‘My dear Stella, as a Pet, you’ll often be called upon by your keepers to perform sexually for them while they watch and have a wank.’ He shrugged. ‘Sometimes they only do that until they get up their courage to join in the fun. Other times they really are voyeurs and get off on the watching more than the doing.

‘Me, I don’t need courage to join in the fun, which I may well do if I choose. But after what happened between you two this morning, I haven’t had a minute’s peace imagining the fireworks that must happen when the two of you actually are allowed to fuck.’ He sighed happily and settled back into the chair as though it were the most comfy recliner. ‘All I need now is some popcorn. Consider this a part of your training, Stella, and who better to help you with your homework than someone who’s an old hand at it.’ He nodded to Tino.

She expected at least an awkward moment or two to adjust to the idea of fucking with an audience, but Tino simply ignored the Boss’s presence.He lifted her as though she were weightless and carried her back to his pallet.

From Amazon.com

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

The Taming

From Amazon.co.uk

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

The Taming

Suzanne Portnoy Talks About the Re-Release of her Bestselling Memoir, The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker

Blog, Interviews, New Releases, , , ,

KD: It’s my pleasure to have Suzanne Portnoy over today. Welcome Suzanne! It’s a pleasure to have you on A Hopeful Romantic talking about theSuzanne Noble Portnoybutcher baker bpb re-release of your best-selling erotic memoir, The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker. Could you tell us a bit about what led you to write TBBCM, and your experience of writing it?

SP: It was 2005 and I was sitting at my desk in the PR agency I managed. My boyfriend, an alcoholic, had passed away a year earlier. I was sleeping with a portfolio of about half a dozen men and was very involved in the swinging scene, having decided that I didn’t want a serious relationship of any kind. I remember thinking I’m 44 years old.  If I don’t write down how I came to be this person, I’ll forget it all and nobody will believe me. I started writing the idea down as a series of short stories but, eventually, under the guidance of Adam Nevill at Virgin Books, it became a memoir.

KD: I understand that after the Fifty Shades phenomenon, Random House decided it was time to re-release The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker. I have to ask, how would you compare your memoir to 50SoG, and how do you think readers of 50SoG, newbies to erotica, will respond to TBBCM? Isn’t it a bit like comparing apples and oranges?

SP: Well, 50 Shades is fiction and ‘Butcher, Baker’ is most definitely factual! My 19 year old son told me that I should go out and publicise ‘Butcher, Baker’ simply so people realise that there’s a world of difference between what goes on in real life and in the 50 Shades world of fantasy. Anyone who has been involved in BDSM, even on the fringes, will tell you that.

KD: Suzanne, tells us a little bit about yourself and about your career.

SP: I started out in film production and went into PR after the birth of my second son. I’ve been a publicist for over 20 years working with a variety of clients. I never had any dreams of becoming an author. I wrote ‘Butcher, Baker’ for myself as much as for others.

KD: Since The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker is a re-release, how has your life and your world view changed since it was released the first time?

SP: It’s funny you should ask that. When Random House told me they were republishing the book, I had mixed feelings. I was very proud of having written it and happy that it might find a new audience. But my life is very different now. I have had a lovely boyfriend for a couple of years now and we have a very ‘normal’ relationship.  When I look back on some of my sexual experiences, I can see that I was quite lucky that I escaped being raped or even dead on a number of occasions. That’s not to say that I didn’t have a lot of fun too. There are many scenarios that I’ll always remember as being some of the most amazing sexual experiences of my life and I met some fantastic people along the way, many of whom I still keep in touch.

KD: Since The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker is a memoir, was it difficult for you to expose your private life so publically? What was the most challenging part of such a public exposure of your private self? What was the inspiration for doing so?

SP: I was incredibly naïve when I wrote ‘Butcher, Baker.’ I didn’t think of the implications or how it might impact on my life. I remember Adam Nevill telling me that the likelihood of it being a bestseller was very rare; that hundreds of thousands of books are published every year and very few of them sell in big numbers. At the time we were negotiating my very small advance so I can see his rationale for being so negative but, even so, I didn’t think ahead! Like I said, I had a burning desire to tell my story and, being a publicist, a number of media contacts whom I hoped would support me by writing features about the book. I knew that I would do whatever I needed to do to make sure it was successful because that’s my nature.

When ‘Butcher, Baker’ went to number 20 on Amazon, I was delighted. I was still very much involved in the swinging lifestyle so I became a bit of a celebrity in that world. It was all a bit surreal. ITV wanted to do a one-hour documentary on me (that I turned down) and, for a while, I became the ‘go to’ girl for anyone seeking an opinion on sex. It was all great fun and I must admit I enjoyed the attention.

However, as I got older, I came to a point where I had had enough of swinging and, thankfully, that coincided with meeting my partner. Being Suzanne Portnoy was fun but it wasn’t someone I wanted to be forever.

KD: Do you think reader response and attitude toward the author is different with a memoir than it is with fiction? How?

SP: As an older woman, I know that my story resonates with many women who have had children and find themselves in an unhappy marriage. I’ve had many letters over the years from women and men who have been inspired by my story. People have written to me to tell me that they now have a more fulfilling sex life with their partner as a result of reading ‘Butcher, Baker.’ I know I have inspired other women to go out and try swinging. I’m sure that erotic fiction can inspire couples and singles to do the same but I think it’s easier for people to make that leap when they read about someone who has already done so.

KD: In your opinion how have times an attitudes toward sex changed most since The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker was released the first time, and how would you, as a publicist, expect that to change the way the book is received?

SP: As a publicist I can see that 50 Shades has made it much easier for the mainstream media and the public to talk about sex. Certainly more people are reading erotica than ever before. 50 Shades has given a tremendous boost to the genre and the adult industry in general. Whether that particular bubble has burst remains to be seen. I’m not expecting the same kind of reaction to ‘Butcher, Baker’ now as it had back in 2007. I think the market is almost saturated, though I haven’t seen a book similar to ‘Butcher, Baker’ in the charts. Random House have done a great job so far – the book has a fantastic new jacket and I’m confident they are doing all they need to do to make sure it sells.

KD: Why do you think the time is suddenly right for erotic literature and all of a sudden there is such a huge demand?

SP: Being cynical, I think every year there is one genre in publishing that sets the trend. It could be misery memoirs or gothic horror or erotica. I think what has been interesting about 50 Shades is to watch how it transitioned from being on a fan fiction site to an independent publisher and, eventually, being picked up by a major. The world of publishing is changing rapidly. Fifty Shades opened reader’s eyes to the genre and it’s up to the publishing industry to keep pushing out good books and marketing them properly to keep up the demand.

KD: Are there plans for another book? Memoir? Fiction? Other? What exactly does the future hold for Suzanne Portnoy?

SP: I always have my fingers in far too many pies but writing another memoir isn’t on the cards for now. I wrote a play called ‘Looser Women’ with playwright Tim Fountain that went to the Edinburgh Festival a couple of years ago and I still think about reworking it for a regional tour. I’m working on a tech idea that has been growing in my brain for a while (I’m a secret geek) and I want to see how far I can take it. I have a number of clients on the PR side that I juggle too and I’m renovating a flat from the ground up. Maybe when I have a chance to breathe I’ll feel the urge to write another book to complete the trilogy but not just yet.

*****

Find Suzanne Portnoy here:

www.suzanneportnoy.com

Buy The Butcher, the Baker, the candlestick Maker here:

Amazon.co.uk print: http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Butcher-Baker-Candlestick-Maker/dp/0352347635/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1365258434&sr=8-2&keywords=suzanne+portnoy

Amazon UK eBook: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Butcher-Baker-Candlestick-Maker-ebook/dp/B00BFTT6S2/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1365258434&sr=8-2

Amazon.com eBook: http://www.amazon.com/Butcher-Baker-Candlestick-Maker-ebook/dp/B00BFTT6S2/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1365260345&sr=1-4

Elemental Fire Blog Tour: Join Me for the Heatwave

Blog, New Releases, , , , , , , , , ,

Elemental Fire cover image finalI’m very excited to announce that April 22nd through 26th I’ll be on tour with the final book of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire.  For those five days, I’ll be visiting some of the most exciting websites and sharing the sexy, magical details of the life of the Elemental Coven with some of the most amazing people. And to help celebrate the tour and the release of Elemental Fire, I’ll be doing my best to conjure a little magic of my own by giving away a couple copies of book one of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Body Temperature and Rising.  That way, I figure we can keep the magic and the naughtiness going long after the tour is finished.

And to make sure you don’t miss any of the gossip and the magic and the giveaways, here’s next week’s schedule:

Monday 22nd April

Adriana Kraft  http://adrianakraft.com/blog/

Tuesday 23rd April

Donna’s Blog Home  http://donnasbloghome.blogspot.co.uk/

Wednesday 24th April

Words of Wisdom from the Scarf Princess http://wowfromthescarfprincess.blogspot.co.uk/ April

Thursday 25th April

You Gotta Read Reviews http://yougottaread.com/

Friday 26th April

Midnight Boudior http://midnightboudoir.org

Friday 26th April

Bliss Kiss (A happy snog to end it all) http://blissekiss.co.uk

kd-lht-buttonAnd here’s a little tease to get you going:

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Excerpt:

‘Will you dream with him?’ Cassandra asked, as she handed Tara the last pot.

‘I don’t see that I have much choice, do I?’

‘Is it really that much of a hardship?’

They both turned to find Kennet standing in the door of the greenhouse.

Tara laid aside her dibber and gently touched Cassandra’s hand feeling the welcome buzz of her power. ‘Go and tell the others to prepare the Dream Cave.’

Once she was gone, she turned her attention back to her seedlings.

Kennet moved inside and pulled the door to. ‘I understand you not trusting me,’ he said. ‘I’d feel the same way, I’m sure. But Tara, I’m not the enemy. I need you to believe that.’ He rested a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened.

Carefully he removed it and turned his attention to stroking the leaves of the thyme plants. ‘You’re afraid,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

‘Aren’t you?’ She continued to fuss over the seedlings, mostly just to stave off the panic of his nearness.

‘Terrified.’ His answer surprised her.

She turned to face him and as she looked up into his eyes, it suddenly felt like she had looked into the sun.

‘But not for the same reasons you are,’ he said. He crooked a finger under her chin so she couldn’t look away. ‘Why do you make love only with ghosts?’

Everything in her wanted to turn and flee before it was too late, but she stood her ground and held his gaze. ‘It hasn’t ended well for the living when I’ve had sex with them.’

‘Are you afraid it won’t end well for me?’

She didn’t answer. She was afraid of what might happen if she tried to speak. There were too many memories too close to the surface, memories she had taken lifetimes to bury deep, and this man had dug them all up in only a few hours.

He took both of her hands, ignoring the compost on her fingers, then brushed a kiss gently across her lips, making her want like she hadn’t allowed herself to want in a very long time. Then he pulled away and brushed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. ‘I’m already dead, Tara. Physically I may not be a ghost, but I’m already dead. Everything that I lived for was taken from me seven years ago.’

She pushed him away. ‘Seven years? Only seven years? You’re not dead yet, Kennet. You haven’t even begun to die. You haven’t had nearly enough years to really beg for death, long for death, pray that it’ll come in the night and set you free.’ She reached for the staging table for support. Her knees were weak, her insides felt like snow on the wind. ‘But then you realize that you’ll be no freer of him dead than you are alive. So no, you’re not dead, Kennet. Don’t even wish for it, and if you think your pet demon will protect you, then you don’t know demons.’

This time he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her to him with such force that she gasped out loud. He took her mouth with stunning anger, like nothing she’d ever felt before, and she returned his assault with her own rage, meeting his tongue thrust for angry thrust, bruising his lips with the force of mouth and teeth, biting and aching, as he bit back. Then he pulled away breathless. ‘She’s not my pet demon, Tara and, trust me, I fucking know demons.’

Then they were kissing again as though they would tear each other apart, as though they would rip the very breath from each other in angry, scorched shreds. His hands moved to her hips, and he hoisted her onto the staging table, shoving aside the gypsy skirt until she could feel the rough wood against the silk of her panties. He fingered aside the crotch and she tried to squirm away from him. ‘I don’t fuck the living,’ she gasped against his mouth, then she bore down as his thick middle finger found its way between her labia and thrust upward. She pulled him to her even as she tried to push him away with her words.

‘Yes you do, as of this morning you do. You need it, I need it, and it’s time you stopped letting Deacon call the shots.’

She felt his last words like a slap and like an aphrodisiac at the same time, and everything in her felt wet with need. ‘Do it, goddamnit,’ she growled. ‘If you’re gonna do it, do it and don’t make me wait!’ She grabbed for his fly with an awkward grip from a bad angle that caused him to flinch and push her hand aside. ‘Damn it, get them off,’ she gasped, ‘I can’t wait!’

With trembling hands he practically ripped the zipper out of his fly, then shoved his jeans and boxers down around his hip and his erection bounced free from its exquisite nest of copper brown curls. The view was brief, and she told herself in a sliver of a thought that was left to her, that sometime she’d like to linger and explore, though in her heart she didn’t really believe she’d ever be afforded that luxury, so she’d take what he’d give her.

Once again he tore at her panties until they were stretched over one buttock and she could feel the cool air of the greenhouse against her gape, then while she held herself open, he cupped his hands under her arse and lifted her from the table, down onto his heft. With a grunt and a slight thrust, he pressed up into her, and she yielded like soft butter, then gripped like a fist. Then she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face back to hers, and their tongue dance matched the rhythm of the thrust and glide. Grunts became feral cries, throats became raw, and vision blurred in searing heat that had nothing to do with Lucia.

‘Great Goddess,’ he gasped. ‘If I’m not dead, I’m dying now, and it’s your fault.’

She bit his neck hard and he flinched and surged inside her tight grip. ‘You asked for it, and I don’t believe in making people beg.’

‘I can’t think of a better way to go,’ he grunted.

In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t dying right along with him, but it didn’t really matter, dead or alive, it was pretty much the same to her.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed between barely parted lips. ‘I can’t hold back any longer, woman. I have to come now.’ And as his cock convulsed inside her, and his groin raked upward against her clit, she came in great sobs that made her throat ache, that made her body feel like some animal, curled deep at her centre, had awakened ravenous and needy with an emptiness to fill that was bigger than the void. And strangely enough, Kennet Lucian felt like he might begin to touch the emptiness.

For a long time, he held her there, both of them gasping for breath, her arms and legs wrapped around him, his large hands cupping her bottom. ‘Tara,’ he whispered against her ear. ‘Please trust me.’

She ran a hand through his hair and nipped his ear with her teeth. ‘Then prove to me that I can.’

Lakeland heatwave banner1

 

 

 

The Pearl Necklace by Geraldine O’Hara

New Releases, , , ,

The Pearl NecklaceBlurb:

After I’d tapped out a response in the comments section of an online newspaper article regarding slimming pills, I was swept from my life as a lonely wedding planner to be named The Pink Pill Diet Woman. Once the pills had worked their magic, I earned the name of Glamour Girl, and my life became an endless round of TV, radio and newspaper appearances, with stretches of boredom that led to me fantasising about my hunky security guard.

He was sexy as sin and out of my league, but a girl could dream, couldn’t she? And dream I did, any chance I got. I longed for him to slide into bed with me and treat me to a night of passion I’d never forget, but how the devil would I get him there? Management had forbidden us to interact as anything other than what we were—Glamour Girl and her bodyguard. But as well as dreaming, I had a naughty streak. Rules be damned, I was going to break them. He had a pearl necklace I wanted draped around my neck—and I was going to get it.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Excerpt:

He stood in my bedroom doorway and stared behind me at the window. “Curtains. Close them.”

I loved the way he’d commanded me, how he was trying to shirk off his shyness. It made my knees weak and my cunt ache even more. I turned and went to do as he’d asked, then stopped and said over my shoulder, “Only if you’ll tell me your name.”

“You were right earlier. It’s Henry. Now close the curtains.”

I smiled and, taking a moment once I’d shut out the night, sucked in a deep breath and fought off the urge to pinch myself that my bloody God, this was finally happening. I turned to face him, the bed between us, a huge, huge barrier, and glanced at it then back to him.

“Get on,” he said, jerking his head at the bed. “Get your clothes off and get on.”

I hadn’t undressed for a man in a long time. Before tonight it had been when I was larger—and under the cover of darkness, beneath the sheets. I just had to hope this newfound courage that was surging inside was enough to carry me through.

I popped the buttons on my skinny jeans then pushed them down my legs, sliding one foot under them once they were off and flicking them away. I watched him carefully for his reaction, and all I got was a glimpse of desire darkening his eyes before he quickly masked it. I lifted my vest top off, tossing it to the floor, and stood there in my black bra and knickers, hoping that he’d give me some idea—any idea—of what he was thinking.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so lovely,” he said. “So bloody lovely.”

He skirted the bed, and I stepped back a bit so he could stand in front of me. He raised his hands, and I held my breath, waiting for him to cup them to my breasts. He didn’t, just let them hover there, and stared down at my chest.

“Touch them,” I encouraged, sensing he was too much of a gentleman to do it without asking, even though his intent had been clear. “You don’t need my permission. Do whatever you want.”

I looked up at him, and he shifted his gaze to my face, then, maintaining eye contact, laid his hands where I so wanted them to be. His palms were deliciously warm, their heat seeping through my bra, my skin. I felt every individual finger, his thumbs, a brand that I would always remember and crave more of when we were apart. I could only hope that tonight wasn’t the only one we’d share like this, but I had to treat this time as if that were the case. Revel in every touch, caress, kiss. Enjoy each second and hope they didn’t speed by too fast.

He kneaded, and oh my God, the sensation from my nipples rasping on his palms went straight to my cunt. I wanted him to fill it with his cock, give me a fuck that I’d never forget, so lifted my hips to push my needy slit against his groin. He was hard, so deliciously hard, and the pressure of him on my clit had tendrils of pleasure radiating down there. I clenched my muscles in an attempt to stave off an orgasm that would rage through me if I let myself go now. I didn’t want to come too soon, but excitement and the sheer brilliance of being here with him in this way might prove difficult. That first burst of release was going to be heady, shocking, I imagined, and I needed to steel myself for the onslaught.

“You feel just as I thought you would,” he said, then bit his bottom lip and slid one hand up to my collarbone, the other still massaging my breast.

His fingertips on my skin, right beside the strap of my top, brought on goose bumps and a shiver so violent I worried he might think he’d repulsed me.

“You feel better than I thought you would,” I said, a little breathless, my lungs straining as though they were fit to burst. A buzz brought on by anticipation set up home in my ears, and I went lightheaded for a second or two. Bloody hell, he affected me in a way I hadn’t fully predicted. Yes, I’d known I’d go like liquid for him, my bones and heart melting at the same time, but this…this all-consuming fire? No, I hadn’t expected it to be so searing just from the simplest of touches.