Tag Archives: erotica

A Snog for Sommer

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Snog for Sommer fundraiserasnogforsummer

As you all know, Victoria and Kev Blisse love a bit of Smut for good over at Blisse towers –and really, who doesn’t?  And what is better than getting sexy and contributing to a good cause? Doing that and have it help out someone you know.

I’ve known and adored Sommer Marsden and her fabulously smutty stories since I first began writing erotica. Sommer  is a fantastically talented erotic romance author. Check out her blog, pick up a book or three. You won’t regret it!

HTTP://SOMMERMARSDEN.BLOGSPOT.CO.UK

Not only is she very talented she’s an all-round lovely lady. Anyone who’s had the pleasure to interact with her will tell you.

At the moment Sommer’s family are going through a really challenging time, her husband is fighting pancreatic cancer and it is putting a strain on then in many ways. What I’m hoping we can do with our Snog for Sommer is to help take a little of the financial strain off their shoulders.

So, how do you join in? Well, anyone is welcome to donate by following the link  http://smutforgood.co.uk/a-snog-for-sommer/ for details on how to donate and links to all the sexy, smutty snogs for Sommer.

Whatever you can manage will be gratefully received, thank you so very, very much!

 

And now here’s a sizzling snog from Grace Marshall’s novel, Identity Crisis. Enjoy!

 

Identity Crisis Blurb:

Book Two of the Executive Decision Trilogy (Click Here for Book One | Book Three)

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

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

 

Identity Crisis Excerpt:

Once the limo pulled away from the curb, Garrett pried the award gently from her fingers, then hefted its weight. ‘I’d say the bastard was damn lucky he got the mousse in the crotch instead of the Rodin up side of the head.’

Kendra forced a pained laugh, in spite of herself, and he could tell her control was near the breaking point, but he didn’t care. He didn’t!
As the anger dissipated slightly from her face, she took a careful breath and said. ‘Garrett, you should have let me handle it. I’ve had to deal with gropers and droolers and all sorts, and I know what an asshole Blessing is. I was ready for him. Really I was. But you forced my hand. Damn it, you forced my hand.’ Her grip on the leather arm rest was white-knuckled, and Garrett was pretty sure it was in attempt to keep from punching him good. ‘You should have let me handle it. That’s my job, Garrett, that’s what you’re paying me for, and frankly I –’

IC new cover‘Shut up, Kendra.’ He risked life and limb by stopping her words with a hard kiss, followed in quick succession by several more. The wild and furious battle between her tongue and his came as a total surprise. When they both pulled away in a breathless gasp, he said, ‘I’m sorry. I fucked up. I couldn’t stand him touching you. If you hadn’t moussed him I might have done something that would have required my brother to bale me out of jail, and that would have completely ruined Tess’s evening.’

‘That wasn’t my plan, Garrett. The mousse wasn’t my plan, and now we can’t foresee the consequences of what I did.’

‘Kendra, you only did what every writer in that room and all the writers watching from home wanted to do. I can’t imagine the consequences of your actions being anything but good. You were stunning and amazing. And right now I want you so badly I can hardly stand it.’

For a second Kendra froze, her whole body tensing, her eyes locked on his. The only sound was their heavy breathing above the soft purr of the limo engine. Garrett was sure this was the point at which he got slapped again. He held his breath.

At last she found her voice. ‘That makes two of us,’ she whispered.

Before he had time to wonder if he’d heard her right, she scooted and wriggled her way onto his lap, scrunching the skirt of the dress, exposing the silken flesh of her thighs between stocking tops and a gold lace garter belt. He caught a flash of matching panties that were barely there. Then she straddled him, and the heat of her against the uncomfortable expansion in the front of his tux trousers was exquisite.

His mouth vied for position with the golden pendent in the soft swell of her cleavage. He nuzzled away the silken smoothness of the dress to get to the rounded hillocks of her breasts, far more silken than the dress, high and tight and crested with ripe fruit nipples that grew impossibly erect at his caressing. And when he took them into his mouth in turn, she gave a little gasp and shivered against him, curling her fingers in his hair.
Deftly she managed his belt and his fly and shoved up so that her knees supported her on the leather seat either side of his thighs. He wriggled his trousers and boxers down over his hips, releasing himself into the stroke and grip of her hand, which caused an involuntary groan that began low in his belly as he ground his ass against the seat beneath them.

From somewhere she produced a condom even before he could get to the one stuffed in his pocket just in case. As she rolled it onto him, he pushed aside the crotch of her panties, and she whimpered at his touch, gripped at his fingers as he stroked her open and circled the swell of her with his thumb. Then with a shifting of her hips, she rose up into position and squatted onto him, settling down tight and wet and sweeter than anything.
For a second she sat very still atop him, fully impaled, her bright eyes burning into him in the scant light of the limo. Then her lips curled into a bow of a smile and she said. ‘Here’s to Tess Delaney, the winner of the Golden Kiss.’ And she began to shift and undulate against him as he thrust up to meet her like his life depended on it, like he’d never get another chance, like being inside her was the best thing ever, and at the moment, that was pretty much the truth. Kendra Davis riding him hard, surely this must be the end of the world, but he could happily live with that.

They strained and shifted and grasped bathed in the strobe of the passing night lights of Portland. The leather seat creaked in the hard friction of expensive clothing and exposed bare flesh, in the grip and release, thrust and stroke of need born of excitement and anger and some sort of wild animal magnetism. They came together, trembling and gasping and holding tight.

They barely had time to tuck and tidy before the limo arrived at his house. He didn’t ask if she wanted to come in. He wasn’t about to give her the chance to say no, and now that he’d been with her, he was sure one dose of Kendra Davis was nowhere near enough to cure what ailed him. To his relief, no manhandling was necessary. She followed him willingly up the porch steps, pausing to offer him a hug and a caress from behind while he unlocked.

As he opened the door and turned on the light in the foyer, she slid a hand under his jacket to caress his ass, which had the exact effect on his cock he figured she was aiming for. He turned and trapped her against the door capturing her mouth with his, cupping the rise and fall of her, delighting in the hard and soft of her. In mid-kiss, she reached behind her, unzipped her gown and let it slide down her body, almost slow motion, almost as though it intended to caress each inch of her bared flesh all the way to the floor.

She wore no bra, and it was perfect that she didn’t. It would have been such a shame to put any more clothing on those exquisite breasts than absolutely necessary. She stood before him in only the gold lace garter belt, stockings and panties and the gold fuck-me heels that made her legs look like they went on forever before they joined her body in the scant swaddling of gold and lace. Jesus, she was a sight to behold!
Still holding his gaze, she removed a gold clasp from her hair and it fell in a cascade of mussed copper around her shoulders.

He wound a soft fall of curls around his fingers and reeled her in until he could taste her breath, until he could possess her lips and her mouth and her breasts. While he traced the pathway along the well-muscled length of her spine, she shoved his jacket off his shoulders to puddle on the floor next to her dress, never missing a beat in the tango of their tongues. ‘I want to undress you, Garrett. I want to see you. All of you. So hold still.’

‘Christ you’re a bossy woman,’ he grumbled half-heartedly.

‘You don’t know the half of it,’ she said as she pushed his hands away from her breasts and deftly undid his bowtie. And he obeyed her. Kendra Davis exploring him, touching him, unwrapping him like he was her Christmas present made the weight already heavy in his groin feel nearly unbearable. And yet it felt way too intriguing for him not to hold on to as long as he could, to hold on to for her, until she wanted it all for herself, and he was sure that would be soon.

She undid his shirt and shoved it off, doing battle with his cuff links until together they managed to free his arms. Then she suckled and nibbled until his nipples were raw and achingly hard and outrageously sensitive to the air that felt cool against them once they were no longer kept warm by her mouth. But her mouth, led by the scrape and nip of her teeth and the laving of her hot tongue held his full attention as she nibbled and licked her way down his belly. She paused to probe his sensitive navel with her tongue before she undid his trousers, then squatted in front of him as she eased them down over his hips. He toed off his shoes and, there positioned in front of him, perched on suicide heels, legs open, her face only scant millimeters from his erection, she slid both trousers and boxers off one leg at a time. When at last he stepped free of his clothing, she tossed them aside with the rest of their party finery and cupped him and stroked him until he bit his lip and struggled to hold himself. Then she cupped his butt cheeks in her palms and pulled him to her, taking the heavy length of him into her mouth.

‘Jesus, Kendra!’ He sucked air between his teeth ‘I can’t stand that for very long.’

‘I bet you can stand it longer than you think,’ she breathed.

‘Fuck,’ he said, curling his fingers in her hair. ‘Is this some kind of challenge?’

‘Just an observation.’ Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated and her cheeks were flushed as she pulled away and slipped off her panties from her squatting position. Then she lay back on the floor and motioned him to her.
He fumbled in the pocket of his jacket for the condom. This time, she made no attempt to help him, but only lie there watching him, shifting her hips, making sure he knew exactly what she wanted. It didn’t take him long. Then he stretched out on top of her, feeling the silk of her stockings Snog for Sommer fundraiserasnogforsommer-buttonrise along his ribs as she lifted her hips. He cupped her and shifted until there was contact, right where they needed it. They both moaned as he entered her thrusting, and she wrapped her legs around him, still wearing her shiny shoes, still wearing stockings and garter belt. And she was outrageously warm and wet and needy. She gripped him as though she would consume him, and he rode her as though he might never get another chance. A possibility all too likely, he figured, but he didn’t want to think about that now, not while they were together like this, not while they were reveling in Tess’s success and celebrating their own conquest of a difficult situation. He didn’t want to think about that now while there was time to be with Kendra Davis, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her nor would be likely to see her again. He expected nothing else. Just now. That would have to be enough. At least that’s what he told himself.

 

Follow this link to donate and to find links to all of the other snogs for Sommer:

http://smutforgood.co.uk/a-snog-for-sommer/

12th Instalment DEMON INTERRUPTED: A Lakeland Witches Story

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Demon Interrupted CoverI’m very happy to offer the twelfth instalment of  Demon Interrupted, a new story from the Elemental Coven that will be unfolding in its entirety right here on A Hopeful Romantic over the next few weeks with the final episode on October 31 — the final day of Things that Go Hump in the Night. All through the month of October, A Hopeful Romantic will be celebrating all things paranormal and all Things that Go Hump in the Night. There’ll be lots of great authors stopping by bringing with them lots of paranormal fun. There’ll be lots of great giveaways and lots of scary, sexy, excitement, so be sure to put Things that Go Hump in the Night on your calendar. More on that in a later post.

The Lakeland Witches Trilogy left so many stories untold and so many fun places in the lives of the Elemental Coven yet to be explored, that a serial seemed like the ideal way to share more of the coven’s adventure. With a coven that specialises in sex magic, it’s not only exciting to revisit my witches at Elemental Cottage, but it’s sizzling hot.

If you’ve missed the previous episodes of Demon Interrupted, find the links at the bottom of this instalment.

Enjoy Chapter twelve, and thanks for joining the fun with this Work in Progress.  If you want to know more about the Elemental Coven’s sexy adventures, check out the Lakeland Witches Trilogy: Body Temperature and Rising, Riding the Ether and Elemental Fire. Enjoy! 

 

Chapter 12

The Summoning

‘What the hell?’ Ferris roared like an angry beast as he fought his way out of a blackberry bramble to land with his naked arse on the hard ground. The thick summer night effervesced with the tingle of strong magic, and the sting and bite of the bramble were evidence that he had been called, very unceremoniously, into physical form, but who would have treated him with such disrespect? And other than Lucia, the Fire Demon, and the demon who now possessed that evil aberration spawned in the Americas — what was it he called himself Deacon — there were few who could have done such a thing. Besides, what would either of them want with him? And certainly it behoved them to treat him with a little more respect than to up-end him bare-aresed and bleeding in a thicket. Whoever had done it, when he found them, they would be sorry for humiliating him so. He would make certain that they …

The yelp of a female voice put a halt to thoughts of punishing the transgressor. As he turned, the dance of firelight dazzling his eyes made him think for a moment that it was Lucia, who had summoned him. The Fire Demon’s sense of humour was evil at best. But the flames were nothing more than a tiny blaze set in an insignificant fire pit. And then he saw her. Beyond the blaze the woman stood as naked as he was with lustrous dark hair that hung down her back and over the swell of her breasts. He would not have imagined it to be possible, but the slender woman, body burnished golden in the firelight was the source of the magic that had summoned him.

‘What do you want, little girl, and why have you called me in such an uncivilised manner?’ He said, making his voice as thunderous as possible and pulling the shadows around him like a cape because it lent him at least a little of the dignity she had stolen from him.

But she did not cower. Instead she squared her shoulders and stood to her full height, which, as with most mortal women, was not significant compared to him. ‘I am no little girl, Rider, and I have summoned you to do my bidding.’

Though he made no effort to hold back the roar of his laughter, the mortal did not so much as cringe. ‘You summoned me to do your bidding, little one? You are either very brave or very stupid.’ With a sudden flick of his wrist the wind rose and swirled around her, whipping her hair across her face and then back over her shoulders, and he saw that she was, indeed, no little girl. Her breasts were in the full bloom of womanhood crowned by roseate nipples that peaked in the cool kiss of the wind he had summoned. His cock rose in response to her, and for the first time since his unceremonious arrival, he was pleased to be in physical form. This human, this mortal woman was delicate of build, skin as pale as the finest porcelain, skin that seemed lit from within, skin that contrasted with hair that was night itself and eyes that were like a moonless sky. Her hips flared away from her center as though they hugged the soft pillowing of dark curls that caressed her womanhood, and she stood unladylike, with her feet set wide apart on the ground so that even his tempest did not unbalance her.

‘I am neither brave nor stupid,’ she said, when the wind settled enough that she could catch her breath to speak. ‘I am without recourse.’

He moved closer to her, so that the fire did not interfere with his vision of her, and still she did not flinch. ‘You must be desperate, indeed, if you would summon a Soul Rider to do your bidding.’

She ignored his statement. ‘You have it within your power to visit horrible hallucinations upon those who displease you, do you not? It is within your power to drive them form their sanity, and it is said that you have power even to drive them to their death. Is that not so?’

He moved still closer, until he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest that belied the nerves she hid so well, until he could feel her warm breath against the body that now held his essence. ‘Shall I demonstrate that of which I am capable upon you, little one?’ As he reached for her, she stepped back.

‘I do not need your demonstration, Rider. I only need you to use those powers in my service.’

This time he stepped close enough that she had to bend her slender neck back as far as she could to look up into his eyes. ‘And might I ask what’s in it for me?’

‘Anything.’ Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time he felt the passion of her request with the intensity of the powerful magic she had just performed and what that magic had cost her. And was that passion tinged with more than a hint of despair? ‘Anything you ask.’

‘And if you are the payment I demand?’

Her eyelids fluttered and her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘As I have said. Anything you ask.’

That she did not frighten easily, that she was braver than most men who had, ultimately, cowered before him made him want to taste her fear all the more. ‘Then I shall have you.’ He pulled her to him and took her mouth, not expecting the full pout of her lips to part for him, not expecting her body to relax and soften into his embrace nor her arms to encircle his neck. As his tongue flicked over hers, he was stunned to find it was not fear he tasted; it was power, exhilaration, need, mixed again with a heavy patina of desperation, and all of those tastes in this woman made him want her even more. His cock stretched hard, pressed against the tensing muscles of her belly. The pillowed press of her breasts against him in her battle for breath made him want to take more of her breath, so that the pumping of her lungs would keep her fullness rising and falling and nestling against him.

He unclenched her fingers from behind his neck and guided her hand down between them, down to rest on his cock. ‘It has been long since I have worn flesh. My need is nearly beyond my control. It may well be that I would split your fragile frame in two, little girl.’

Before the words were off his tongue, she circled his hardness with slender, but strong fingers, and began to stroke the length of him, whispering in his ear. ‘I told you, whatever you asked, and I am not nearly so fragile as you might think.’ But then the brazen child did something he could have never anticipated. She stepped out of his embrace, back just enough that he could not easily touch her. ‘But I am not yours for the taking until you have done my bidding, Rider. Then split me in two, you may, or in a thousand pieces if it please you.’

He growled his frustration, and his cock bucked against his belly. ‘I do not need your permission to take you, little one.’ He took a menacing step closer to her, and she stepped back again until she stood flush with the bramble behind her. ‘Nor do I need to do your bidding. After all, your invitation was not very polite, now was it?’

‘There was no invitation, Demon. There was a summoning and a bargain to be struck.’

‘Again, I will ask you why should I not take what I want now rather than wait. I am the one who –’

His words died in his throat as her power buzzed over him, a bolt of lightning and a touch of silk and he sucked breath to keep from humiliating himself as the content of his balls threatened to spill itself at her feet. Though in truth, he was not sure that perhaps it was his very life force that this woman, this witch threatened to coax from his cock with her magic. He raised his hands, palms facing her, in a gesture of peace. ‘Tell me then, what is it you want, little witch.’

She studied him for a moment with eyes bottomless as the night sky. ‘I want you to ride the soul of my enemy. Make him suffer long and hard, make him pay for what he has done. If this you do for me, then I am yours to do with what you will.’

‘Are you sure this is a price you can afford to pay, little witch?’ With a move that was no more human than he was, he pulled her into his arms and fisted her thick mane of soft hair and shoved it off her shoulders, seeking to admire the delicacy of the mortal form, as one did art in a gallery — beautiful creations that were far too fragile for any practical purpose. Their fragility in itself a part of their attraction, and his ability to break them somehow made them even more valuable to him. With his eyes shut, he tracked the beat of her pulse to the soft spot on her throat, then bent to nuzzle her there, and just as she moaned a sigh, he bit her in that spot against the thud, thud of her tenuous life force.

At first he thought the near sob that breeched her lips was a release of her pleasure, disappointingly easy, he thought. It was as he opened his eyes that he saw the bruises on her neck, green and angry in the dance of the flames, and he realised the sob had been one of pain. Though he was no fire demon, the thought of his little witch — for that is how he thought of her now, as his possession — the thought of her in pain kindled a strange inferno in his belly that burned with the same rage he would have felt if someone had so marred the Mona Lisa’s perfection. ‘Who did this to you?’ Even as he spoke, he noticed other bruises on her arms, on her hips … on the insides of her thighs. ‘Who did this to you,’ he growled.

DI_teaserShe shoved her way free from his embrace and stumbled backward nearly falling before she caught herself. He could taste the rage rolling off her, overpowering the desperation, overpowering the longing, overpowering all else to the point that it was he who was rendered breathless by it. ‘The one whose soul I wish you to ride, the one who I seek revenge upon. He did this to me and more than even your demon eyes can ever see. He took everything from me, and I want him to pay! I want him to pay!’

‘Elaine! Woman! Where the hell are you, you little cunt.’

She jerked as though she had been shot, and in the next instant she was scrambling in the shadows for her clothes. ‘He’s not supposed to be here! He’s supposed to be in Edinburgh.’ Her voice was little more than a hiss. ‘And he’s drunk.’ The curse that she whispered under her breath was an ancient one in Latin, the shock of it coming from the lips of such a delicate female would have made his blood run cold, if he’d had blood. ‘I fear there will be more than bruises when next I see you, Rider,’ she said as she struggled into her gown.

As she turned to go, he grabbed her by the arm. ‘There shall be no bruises, nor any other sort of pain for you, my little witch. You are Elaine?’

She nodded, glancing quickly over her shoulder as the man roared more foul abuse into the night air.

‘And this roaring sack of excrement is the one whose soul you wish me to ride?’

She nodded.

‘And who is he to you?’

‘He is my husband, Patrick Farringdon, and I hate him with a hate that burns me like the flames of hell.’

As the man roared again, Ferris could sense the rage and fear and myriad other emotions racing through the woman’s delicate frame. ‘Elaine, what I do tonight is because I admire your bravery. This night, I promise you, he shall not harm you. In truth, he shall not harm you until next we meet. You intrigue me, my dear little witch, and I will hear your proposition.’

She surprised him by pressing a fervent kiss onto his lips before hurrying from the overgrown garden.

 

*****

 

Ferris found his little sorceress locked in a pleasant tower room that he suspected was the place to where she escaped the monster that was her thingsthatgohump300x200husband whenever she could. The walls were lined with books and there was a huge free-standing orrery in one corner of the room, close to a polished bronze telescope facing the large window that looked out onto the northern moors. On a huge desk, there were stacks of parchment and a holder with extra quills, not the kind of room in which one would expect a woman to spend her time.

As though she had heard his thoughts, she spoke. ‘This room was covered in dust when I arrived. Patrick Farringdon has no love for learning. He loves money and whores and torturing me. He doesn’t come into this room because I have convinced him it is haunted.’ A smile curled the corner of her lips. ‘He’s a very superstitious man.’

‘And yet her married you, little witch.’

‘Do you think I had a choice? He was more in love with my father’s money than he was afraid of my craft. After squandering his own fortune, marrying a witch seemed less loathsome than being poor. For him. For me nothing is more loathsome than being forced to do his bidding.’ Her voice was dark, venomous, and even Ferris’ skin prickled at the hatred therein. She shook herself and shrugged as though coming out of a bad dream. ‘I have no doubt that the time will come when he will use my craft against me to his advantage.’ She turned to face him, ‘If he lives long enough for such scheming. He has already let it be known among the villagers that I am a strange one, that I have … unholy tendencies.’

Ferris moved to stand behind her and closed the book she had been reading. ‘The death of one accused of witchcraft is not pleasant, my dear woman.’

She raised her eyes and looked out the window at the night sky. ‘I can only die once and then this suffering will be over. But I wish to insure that he suffers much before I do, and that my … dear husband … precedes me in death. Since he has not sought me tonight, then I assume you have paid him a visit.’

Ferris laid a hand against her jaw and pulled her hair back to reveal the angry bruise. ‘He will give you no bruises this night. Night terrors can be so troublesome, and they often leave one far too exhausted for such spineless activities as beating helpless women – for days at times, or so I am told.’ He slid his hand down onto her collarbone and was once again surprised to find she did not cower. ‘But then I see no helpless woman here.’

‘Is my proposal acceptable to you then, demon,’ she asked. From the angle at which he stood he could see the hardening of her nipples below the fabric of her gown and the rise and fall of the rounded tops of her breasts.

castlerigg_Stone_Circle1‘For the price we have agreed upon, I will do your bidding,’ he said. ‘It shall give me pleasure to lay waste to such a corrupt soul.’ He slid his hand down over her sternum and inside the gape in her gown to caress her breasts and felt the catch of her breath in unison with the catch of his own, which was only a memory of breath, but a memory he knew well. ‘In the meantime, I will enjoy the world of the flesh.’

She shoved his hand aside. ‘I am not yours to dispose of until you have given me what I ask.’ She pushed her chair back and came to her feet, turning to face him. ‘If you take me now, than I have naught with which to bargain.’

He bowed his head. ‘As you wish, my little witch.’ As he lifted her into his arms, she yelped and he felt her body tense against him as he carried her to the cot on the far side of the room where it was clear that she spent most of her nights. ‘Then you shall sleep, and I shall watch over you.’ He undid the robe that she had carelessly thrown around herself, the one she had worn from the garden, and slipped it off her shoulders. Then he guided her down beneath the blanket.

‘You don’t have to watch over me. That was not a part of the bargain.’

‘Indeed not,’ he said, as he settled onto the bed next to her. ‘But I must protect my investment. When my end of the bargain is fulfilled, I would not want my reward damaged and unable to uphold her end.’ He brushed a kiss against her lips. Her breath was warm and sweet and he longed to linger in it until dawn.

‘How can I trust you to keep your word?’ She whispered.

‘How can you not?’ He replied, curling up next to her on top of the covers. ‘What I have promised I will perform, now rest, my little witch, and be at peace.’

 

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Here are the links to the previous episodes in case you missed them:

Chapter 1 Demon Interrupted: Perchance to Dream.

Chapter 2 Demon Interrupted: A Chat with a Demon

Chapter 3 Demon Interrupted: Enter the Shadows

Chapter 4 Demon Interrupted: Dark Chrysalis

Chapter 5 Demon Interrupted: The Empty Spaces in Between

Chapter 6 Beneath the Weight of Shadow

Chapter 7 Possessions

Chapter 8 Necessities and Inconveniences

Chapter 9 Demon Dreams

Chapter 10 Backlash

Chapter 11 Chasing the Dream

Caught On Camera by Destiny Blaine

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Caught On CameraPublished by Siren-Bookstrand

Love at First Sight, Book One—A series of LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT romances, all of which stand alone

Blurb

Bailey Chapman isn’t looking for love but when Nick Palmani shows up at a bonfire and starts pursuing her, she notices. Soon, the two are grinding out their passionate fantasies. Unbeknownst to the couple, the entire episode is caught on camera.

Nick Palmani knows Bailey possesses that special spark, but when he discovers Bailey’s father owns the farm where he’ll soon work, things are complicated. After a night of passion is caught on camera and the entire groping session goes viral, he isn’t too certain of his job security. He’s more concerned about Bailey and how her life will soon spin out of control.

Fearing Bailey will do whatever necessary to pacify her family and avoid unattractive labels, Nick whisks her away to an undisclosed location. Soon, secrets are revealed in front of an interested public and Bailey and Nick must decide if they can move forward together or find a way to leave their explosive past behind.

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/destiny-blaine

 

Excerpt:

“Your father seems like a nice fella,” Nick said, never cracking a smile.

“Oh yeah? Wait until you meet my mother. She’s a real gem.”

“And you think I’ll meet her sometime in the next few minutes?”

“Got somewhere you need to be?”

“You might say that.” Nick massaged the back of his neck, acting positively amused.

“You think this is funny?”

“No, Bailey. I don’t. I didn’t drive five hundred miles for the career start I’ve been dreaming of only to have the farmer’s daughter screw me over by luring me to her bed.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” she said flippantly. “I knew you were a player. If somebody jumped your bones after you and I were through, that’s between the two of you. I don’t want to know anything about it.”

He stared at her blankly.

“And you apparently lost your way more than once if you landed here instead of wherever you’re supposed to be.” She sat on top of her dad’s desk, wishing he’d hurry up. Whatever he was saying to Stacy and her brother must’ve been along the lines of a good old-fashioned sermon. Before long the handkerchief would come out.

“Are you in denial?” Nick rose to his feet and stalked her. “I mean are you so involved in your little fantasies and daydreams that you can’t get a real grip on reality here?”

“I have a fine grip on reality. Thank you very much.” She glanced down at that thick bulge in his jeans and nearly came thinking about how he’d groaned at her ear when she’d wrapped her hand around him the night before. Moistening her lips she stared at his crotch and said, “I’m actually surprised you don’t remember.”

“Oh, I remember all right.” He released a guttural growl and studied her for a long time before he added, “You don’t know.”

“I don’t know what?”

“You don’t have the faintest idea what’s going on here.”

She crossed one leg over the other. “I’m a lot of things. Stupid I’m not. You obviously drove cross country for employment—probably somewhere like over at Melanie Shaffer’s place—and somehow pulled in our driveway by mistake. You’re the one who announced we’d had a thing, a fling. Now, my dad will probably call her dad to warn her that some…some older guy…is coming on to his daughter and Shaffer better lock his up.” She studied her fingernails and that’s when it hit her. “Oh my God. You weren’t talking about Melanie or the Shaffers. Were you?”

 

Author Bio and Links

Destiny Blaine is one pseudonym for the award-winning international bestseller Susan Smith Alvis. Destiny writes in most subgenres with a mix of intimate pairings. Her upcoming title, Rendition, will be released soon from Siren-Bookstrand.

A career writer for over a decade, Destiny and her husband live in East Tennessee with their four pampered pets. For more information, follow Destiny on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/DestinyBlaine or Facebook at www.Facebook.com/DestinyBlaine. Visit her on the web at www.destinyblaine.com

Kristina Lloyd Talks about Erotica & Erotic Romance on Her UNDONE Blog Tour

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It’s my pleasure to welcome the totally amazing Kristina Lloyd, who has stopped by on her blog tour for her latest novel, Undone. Kristina has agreed to talk about the differences between erotica and erotic romance.

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The first erotic fiction story I had published began, “There was an ear in his chow mein.” That was around twenty years ago. My new novel, Undone, opens with a scream, and there’s a dead body on page six.

It’s fair to say traditional erotic romance has never been my forté. I prefer to lurk on the dark side where crimes, secrets, and seedy alleyways seep into the story. While romantic love may feature in my fiction, I’m more interested in exploring erotic obsession, conflicted sexualities, journeys of self-discovery, and the lengths to which people will go to have their desires met.

When I run writing workshops, I sometimes need to explain the difference between ‘erotica’ and ‘erotic romance’. I use broad brushstrokes and describe an over-arching category, ‘erotic fiction’, with two sub-sections. In erotic romance, the narrative is propelled by a central love story and will conclude happily with a romantic bonding, usually a monogamous pairing. In erotica, the narrative is propelled by a different journey, usually sexual; love may or may not be on the cards; and happy endings are not compulsory. Fifty Shades of Grey, I tell people, is erotic romance.

Of course, the distinctions aren’t always clear cut. Many authors, myself included, write in both sub-genres, and a degree of subjectivity is involved in deciding whether a book belongs in one camp or the other, or perhaps straddles the line between both. Additionally, how a book is marketed and positioned in bookstores affects how it is perceived. Of particular interest to me is the way many readers and writers will pledge allegiance to either erotica or erotic romance.

I don’t believe the two sub-genres are oppositional, and yet they’re often characterised as such. From the erotica corner, it’s easy to deride erotic romance as sentimental, softcore, heteronormative and reactionary; or, vice versa, for erotica to be dismissed as episodic, heartless bonking.

Neither stereotypes are true, but I feel erotica is currently the misunderstood weakling and comes off worse in terms of public perception.

Undeniably, some supporters of erotic romance define their territory by distancing it from erotica, from what it isn’t.

Totally Bound, ebook publishers of erotic romance, in their author pack, say, “What makes an Erotic Romance special is that it includes explicit sex, but also plenty of emotion and commitment. This is unlike Erotica, where the emotional commitment is absent”.

Excuse me?

My own editor, who I’m delighted to say has totally backed my hunger to write erotic thrillers, has been guilty of falling into a similar trap. According to a recent article, “Green was keen to stress that Black Lace titles are erotic romances rather than a string of sex scenes held together by a thin plot.”

In the post-FSOG climate, many have a vested interest in promoting erotic romance and securing it from accusations of grubbiness. Erotica then gets conflated with porn and is cited as an example of what erotic romance isn’t. As a consequence, it can feel as if there are two types of erotic fiction: ‘erotic romance’ and ‘shit books’. Because porn, irrespective of your take on it, does not make a compelling narrative. Erotica is not porn.

(As a slight aside, on her website, EL James describes FSOG as ‘provocative romance’ . I’ve seen the phrase crop up elsewhere but I’ve yet to find a definition. I don’t know if it’s an emerging sub-genre or part of the EL James brand. If you know more, please comment!)

Sylvia Day, in her neat breakdown of erotic fiction’s sub-genres, correctly observes that some publishers are now marketing ‘erotica’ as ‘erotic romance’, to cash in on the recent popularity of the genre. Sylvia’s concern is that readers keen to explore erotic romance will be deterred from further investigations if they find mis-labelled erotica in their hands.

My concern is that erotica can’t reach its readership. The signal is being scrambled. Erotic romance is blocking the view. Many wonderful erotic books exist that aren’t erotic romance. I’d love to see them getting the readers they deserve.

How does this relate to the ear in his chow mein? I’m not sure, except to say I have a book out this week, Undone. It’s an erotic, kinky, psychological thriller with a focus on the growth of a D/s relationship shrouded in suspicion and mistrust. The story’s romantic, to an extent, but features few of the themes and tropes of trad erotic romance. I’m delighted to have a publisher, Black Lace, who don’t put me under pressure to write what’s selling. I’m just hoping Undone will find its way to readers eager to try something a little different.

If you’d like to know more, please hop over to my blog for an excerpt from Undone, and check out the other stops on my Sexy September blog tour.

Kristina Lloyd writes erotic fiction about sexually submissive women who like it on the dark, dirty and dangerous side. Her novels are published by Black Lace and her short stories have appeared in dozens of anthologies, including several ‘best of’ collection, in both the UK and US. She lives in Brighton, England.

About Undone

When Lana Greenwood attends a glamorous house party she finds herself tempted into a ménage à trois. But the morning after brings more than just regrets over fulfilling a fantasy one night stand. One of the men she’s spent the night with is discovered dead in the swimming pool. Accident, suicide or murder, no one is sure and Lana doesn’t know where to turn. Can she trust Sol, the other man, an ex-New Yorker with a dirty smile and a deep desire to continue their kinky game?

Undone is published on Sept 11th, 2014. Pre-order with Amazon: Amazon UK paperback::Amazon UK Kindle :: Amazon US Kindle :: Amazon CA paperback::Amazon CA Kindle

The End of Summer Beginnings: Fulfilling the Contract Chapter 1

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Welcome to instalment 3 in my End of Summer Beginnings Posts! As everyone is frantically trying to fit in one last dose of the summer sun and a smidge more holiday before autumn is upon us, I thought it was time for a bit of temptation. One of the best parts of summer holidays is a good read to match the summer sizzle, so with that in mind, for the next two weeks, I’m sharing First Chapters of all my novels. Today I’m sharing more filthy romantic fun K D Grace, Grace style with chapter 1 from Fulfilling the Contract,  book two of The Mount Series. Enjoy!  (Follow hyper-links to learn more and to find buy-links)

Blurb:

Book two of The Mount trilogy (Click here for Book One | Book Three)

Limo driver, NICK CHASE’s bad night gets worse when he picks up TANYA POVIC at a bar only to discover the explosive sex they share lands her in breach of her very strange contract. Blaming himself that Tanya will lose the large completion bonus earmarked for her mother’s surgery, Nick negotiates with her boss, the tough and mysterious ELSA CRANE, to allow him to fulfill Tanya’s contract and secure her bonus.

Elsa runs Mount Vegas, which offers voyeuristic pleasures for a price. Nick’s job, with Elsa and her quirky team, is to give clients something worth watching through the plate glass windows of Vegas’s luxury hotels and beyond. The learning curve is steep and kinky. As Nick and Elsa’s relationship sizzles and ignites more than hotel room rendezvouses are exposed. In this sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly things get positively dangerous as Rita Holly and her team are called in from London to lend a helping hand. Bets are being placed. Will Nick fulfil the contract? Will he and Elsa take the gamble? And will they find a way to win at the high stakes, double or nothing, game of hearts?

Fulfilling the ContractFulfilling the Contract 

Chapter 1

Letting his cock do the thinking was never advised, Nick Chase thought as he pulled Tanya – what was her last name? Something Slavic – through the back door of the bar and into the desert swelter in the alley, kissing and groping as he went.

‘Fuck me here,’ she gasped, managing for a split second to take her delicious tongue out of his mouth. ‘Is sexy here, outside. You have the condom, no?’

‘No, I mean yes, I have a condom, but I’m not having sex with you in the alley.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her fast around the end of the building. ‘My car’s over here.’ He nodded to the black Lincoln Town Car parked in the shadow of the building.

‘You drive limo?’ she asked. Did he imagine the disappointment in her voice?

‘I own a limo, several in fact,’ he corrected. What the hell, was he bragging to get laid? How adolescent was that? Was he really that desperate? Forget desperate. It was compensation he was after. The night had gone straight down the crapper early on, and he deserved something nice to make up for it.

His last fare had had a heart attack in the back of his limo while banging a woman half his age. Okay, people using his limo for sex was something he’d didn’t get his boxers in a knot over. This was Vegas. But heart attacks, even minor ones, those were boxer knotting experiences, experiences that didn’t do his heart a lot of good either! The woman who caused the man’s melt-down had bailed at the first stoplight like they were in some shoot-em-up film. It might have been funny if she hadn’t left Nick to rush Casanova to the emergency room. There he’d waited until the angry wife arrived several hours, and what would have been several good fares, later. He figured a minor heart attack was nothing compared to what the man would get from his wife when she got him home. Nick didn’t mind being a good Samaritan, but when a man twice his age and three times his weight got a good hard riding in the back of his limo, while he was reduced to slapping the sausage when he actually had time to be horny, it was hard to be sympathetic.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he left the hospital to find that his limo had been towed. By the time he’d found out where it was, paid a taxi to get him there and paid the fine to release it, he was pissed off, tired, and $300 poorer for his night’s efforts. Feeling pretty damned sorry for himself, he’d stopped at the Mango on the way home for a much-needed drink. He couldn’t actually drink anything stronger than a Coke and drive on home, but home was a fair ways yet and, at least, some caffeine was in order. That’s where he met Tanya. She was a busty blond with eyes the colour of toffee and a sexy Slavic accent that stirred him right in the crotchial area. She sat down on the stool next to him offering him a kick-ass smile as she ordered a cosmopolitan. At first he wondered if she were a hooker. But when she ignored the attentions of the guy on the other side of her and politely hinted that she wasn’t interested, Nick figured she was just a tourist who either got lost or got adventurous. And when the man wouldn’t take the hint, it was Mr Good Samaritan to the rescue again.

‘Hey buddy, she’s with me.’ Nick offered a don’t-want-any-trouble sort of smile, to which the guy lifted his hands in response, mumbled an apology and took his beer over to the slot machines.

Three cokes, two strong coffees and several cosmos later and Nick had forgotten all about his ambulance run. In fact, he’d forgotten all about everything except Tanya. He’d like to say it was her accent, or the fact that she was a good conversationalist, and both were true. But honestly, it was Tanya’s well-displayed cleavage that had his full attention.

‘If you want a real drink,’ she said, ‘is no problem. ‘You order it. I will take it in my mouth, swish it all around. And then I will kiss it into your mouth. Like this.’ She demonstrated with a mouthful of cosmo and a cranberry flavoured lip lock that had his cock hard-pressed in his jeans. She came up smacking her lips. ‘And that way you will get the flavour and I will get the alcohol.’

‘Tanya, I could do that all night, but I think your science is flawed. I’d be both drunk and horny and I’d have to call a taxi to get both of us home.’

‘Is true. I swear,’ she said. Then she offered him a wicked smile. ‘As for the horny part, well, is a side effect of the procedure, I’m afraid.’

That was when he dive-bombed her mouth with his, coming up breathless as her hand snaked up the inside of his thigh, and he returned the favor by toying with the hem of her curve hugging mini dress, all bright with the sort of tropical print Vegas tourists often wore.

The flirting became foreplay as she opened her legs to give him a glimpse of a skimpy red thong before sliding to the edge of the barstool and pulling his hand up against the triangle of fabric moistening next her goodies. Her cherry red nails made less than gentle scratching motions against his fly as his mouth found hers once more and, after another serious wrestling match with her tongue, he pulled her from the stool and practically dragged her toward the back door, groping as they went.

The parking lot was full of expensive cars, and two things quickly became clear. Tanya had had a few more comos than necessary for an alcoholic buzz. And Tanya had a car fetish. ‘Oooh! A Humvee! She squealed. And before he could stop her, she raced over to the vehicle. That was no small feat in her outrageously high heels, and even more astonishingly, she actually stepped out of her red thong as she did so. Then she hoiked her skirt and hopped onto the hood of the black Humvee that was waxed to an eye-dazzling sheen even in the glow of the streetlights. Once she was up, her heels clunk clunking on the waxed surface, she spread her legs wide and squatted, giving him a tantalizing view of her pussy before she arched her back and thrust her hips forward in just such a way that said pussy was up-close and personal with said wax job giving it … well a wax job. ‘Bože! Oh bože! Is good,’ she moaned. ‘Is so good! Come! Join me’

‘Jesus, Tanya! Get off there! Come down from there,’ he hissed, anxiously stooping to pick up the shed panties and stuffing them into his pocket. Three men came out of the bar and got an eye full when Tanya chose that moment to flash her very excellent tits from her position high atop the hood of the Humvee.

The men made no attempt to look away and Tanya made no attempt hide what she had. And Nick had to admit that in the competition between his very impressed cock and the fear of getting arrested as an accessory to Tanya’s indecent exposure, his cock was winning, hands down. ‘Come on, come down here. Now!’ He gave another look around the parking lot and offered her his hand. Giggling loudly, she took it and slid, open-legged, off the Humvee leaving a very wet path right down the centre of the hood that left no doubt as to what had caused it. From there she launched herself at him mouth first, with her magnificent and still uncovered tits, not far behind.

‘Ooooh! There’s a Porsche. I love Porsches.’

FTC_teaserNick figured if the Humvee made her wet the Porsche would probably give her multiples, but he wasn’t risking another scene. He kept his arm around her waist and half escorted, half carried her to the limo. Before he could get the door unlocked she spat on her hands and slathered her nipples with a good dose of saliva. Then she gave the driver’s side window the full-frontal rub-up. Tit prints. Nick had tit prints on the window of his limo. Looking rather pleased with her art work, Tanya leaned on the back door fingering herself while he unlocked.

‘Do the people ever have sex in your limo when you are driving them?’

‘Yup.’ He decided not to tell her about his last unpleasant experience.

‘Oooh, is sexy!’ She managed a grope at his fly and rubbed up against him before he opened the back door and push her in, with her pulling him in on top. ‘Do you watch them in your mirror?’ She asked, tugging loose his belt and going to work on his fly. ‘Do they sometimes make you come?’

‘Not so far, no.’

She made a tut-tut sound with her tongue before she slipped it back in his mouth. ‘Do they ever ask you to join them?’ She slurred the words across his lips.

‘I’ve had offers,’ he managed, pulling away far enough to tug at a delicious mouthful of nipple. ‘Wouldn’t be very professional me joining the orgy, though, would it?’

‘Spoil sport.’ She offered him a pout before she squirmed out from under him, and slid down his body to take his very agreeable cock into her mouth. And wow, could the woman suck cock! Her throat was seriously deep and her grip was tight enough to suck the paint of a mop handle. And her tongue, holy Christ on a pogo stick, her tongue was warm and wet and all over the place. He curled his fingers in the masses of blond hair while she sucked and licked his cock like it was the best lolly pop ever. Her skirt was still hiked up over her hips exposing the shift and grind, shift and grind of her pert little ass as she rode her hand like a rocking horse. And the door was still open!

The smell of her pussy filled the dry desert air with a humid sea scent of female heat, and he could almost make out the wet sounds of her fingers dancing over her snatch above the slurping and licking of her tight mouth. But as delicious as her mouth was, it was her pussy he wanted. And she must have read his mind because just as he reached for the condom in his pocket, she came up gasping and wiping her mouth.

‘Fuck me. Please fuck me, Nick. I need you to fuck me now.’

It was all he could do to hold her off until he got suited up for business, and then she shoved onto him so hard that she left him gasping for breath and grabbing her hips in self-preservation, at least until he caught her rhythm. And then he let her ride him hard.

‘You’re cock is so good. It fits so tight up in my pussy,’ she half whispered. ‘I need to come, Nick, I need to come so bad, so bad.’

As much as he wanted to knead and caress her luscious breasts, he couldn’t bring himself to shove her hands away from the filthy mauling she was giving them. Her nipples were engorged like fat cherry gumdrops that made his mouth water. Surely it must hurt the way she pinched and tugged and squeezed.

He raked the nib of her clit until it pearled and jutted from under its hood and raked back against his finger, wet from the flood of her juices lubricating his sheathed cock. ‘Is hard. My clit is so hard,’ she sighed. ‘And my pussy is eating your cock like hungry mouth.’

Yup, it was doing that alright, and very well getting the job done. One last stroke of her clit and her orgasm broke in a vice-grip clench on his cock. ‘I’m coming! I’m coming!’ She keened just as two more men stepped out – probably to take a piss in the alley, but they only registered as a minor distraction because Tanya’s tight grip and bounce and her orgasmic tremors along his cock had Nick coming too. Tanya’s spasms milked every last drop from him, and it was a lot. He was amazed there weren’t broken bones or pulled muscles for their efforts.

He had just disposed of the condom and she was wiping herself clean with the box of tissue he kept in the back of the Town Car when another limo pulled up way too close for politeness considering there was plenty of room in the parking lot.

At the sight of it, Tanya cried out, and it wasn’t with the delight she’d had over the Humvee. She tossed the wad of tissue she’d been using and turned to run just as a man the size of a small freight train stepped out and grabbed her by the arm. ‘You need to come with us, Tanya.’

‘No! No! Don’t let them take me, Nick. Please don’t let them take me.’ She hammered ineffectually on the man’s chest. ‘Leave me alone. I haven’t done anything wrong. I haven’t.’

‘Did you fuck him?’ The man asked, in a voice that seemed way too soft for anyone that size. When she began to sob, the man simply shook his head and helped her into the open limo. ‘You can explain everything to Elsa when you get home.’

And Nick attacked. Well it wasn’t much of an attack. The man just shrugged him off and pressed him up against the hood of his own limo with one beefy hand. ‘This is not your concern, Mr. Chase.’

‘It is if she doesn’t want to go, besides … How do you know my name?’ Nick didn’t strain against the man’s stiff arm hold. He knew it wouldn’t help. ‘She doesn’t want to go,’ he said as if repeating it louder would send the big man packing in fear. Jesus! Where was his sense of self-preservation? Was he out of his mind? This could be mafia, maybe this man was her pimp. Hell, he knew thinking with his cock was a bad idea. ‘I’ll call the cops,’ he threatened.

newkdbutton-mounttrilogyThe man raised an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘And tell them what? Tanya’s drunk. And when she’s drunk she becomes a drama queen. She shouldn’t be here and she knows it. I’m just taking her home. That’s all. And I’d advise you to stay out of it.’ He gave Nick a half-hearted warning shove before he got back in the car and drove away with Tanya yelling. ‘Please Nick! Don’t let them take me! I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you!’

And Nick, stupid man that he was, hopped in his limo and followed.