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3 by Julie Hilden

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What’s the greatest sacrifice you would make for love?

Julie Hilden 3 by Julie HildenMaya and Ilan have an unusual marriage: Maya will tolerate Ilan’s chronic infidelity as long as he includes her in the affairs. Initially, Maya finds these unorthodox threesomes as arousing as they are disturbing – but when her writing career takes off and she becomes more independent, Ilan feels threatened, and opts for sexual experimentation of another kind: one that plays on Maya’s fear and ultimately threatens her life.

Meanwhile, Maya is drawn into a relationship with a fateful third character. When her new liaison begins to mirror her marriage to Ilan, Maya discovers that her lover, seemingly a stranger, knows far more about her past than she has revealed.

Brave, daring and deeply erotic: 3 is a compelling chronicle of obsession and power.

‘Julie Hilden does what few writers can dare to. 3 is smart, sexy, strange and impossible to put down.’ Dani Shapiro

Available from:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B009EP83AQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B009EP83AQ&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21

http://www.amazon.com/3-Modern-Erotic-Classics-ebook/dp/B009EP83AQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1359631432&sr=1-1&keywords=julie+hilden

*****

Excerpt:

It is the first Saturday in August when I walk up to the porch of the summerhouse and see them. I am supposed to be in the city this weekend but my interview is canceled, the actor called out of town. I see them through the fan propped in the window, through the transparent blur of its blades.

She is moving on top of him slowly, with such concentration that though she faces the window, though she could look right at me, she does not. I am only a few feet away from her. I have never seen her before.

I watch her glossy brown hair shift on her shoulders, I watch her empty eyes as she moves on him with calculation, with slack lips, with nipples so erect that the areolae wrinkle around them – as she moves with such pleasure, really, that who could hate her in this moment?

To love her, to want to be her, to want to touch her, yes. But not to hate her, not in this.

I watch her, and watch, too, a sliver of Ilan’s narrow chest beneath her, its pattern of hair that breaks across his sternum. I can see the necklace sliding on his chest as they move, the tiny silver hand slipping back and forth, its touch faster and jerkier than Ilan’s own smooth caresses – than the touch of his hand moving on her downy back.

For perhaps five minutes, I don’t say a word. It seems a weird privilege: here is the life I don’t see, the life that goes on without me. I watch them as a ghost watches the living.

Then I say his name slowly, just audibly. She starts and looks around wildly. When she looks through the fan and sees me, she gasps.

Ilan does not start at all; not a flicker. But he lifts his head, sees me, and winces, and just like that he lifts her off him and at the same time off the bed.

‘You have to go now,’ he tells her.

She dresses insolently slowly. Her blouse fastens in the back with a line of ties – it is really just a square of cloth that settles on her breasts – and she loops each of the ties into a perfect bow.

‘Fuck you,’ she tells Ilan. ‘You fucking liar. I deserve better than you.’ Righteous anger, but controlled.

She and I brush past each other. It’s as if she’s preempted me with her anger; I want to shout at Ilan too, curse at him, but I don’t have the heart. ‘I should leave too,’ is all I say.

‘You can’t leave me, Maya. I love you.’

‘Was this the first time – the only time? I need to know.’

‘It started in college,’ he admits, ‘a few weeks after I met you.’

I shiver. I never expected to be chosen by myself, for myself alone. It had felt wrong – unlike me – to be chosen. Now, hearing this, I feel only a sickening familiarity, not surprise.

‘It never meant anything,’ he assures me. ‘I felt awful about it. I don’t know where it comes from. I thought, with enough therapy, I’d talk myself out of it. But all I do is confess, I don’t change.

Look, can we at least sit down? I feel like any moment, you’re going to leave.’

‘Okay, but I’m not promising to stay.’

I sit down on the rattan couch. He stands behind me. I lean back and reach my head up to him – like a rabbit in a cage straining to sip from its water dispenser, the single round, hanging drop. And he leans down, princelike, to kiss me.

Then he starts to touch me. He slips his hands down my jeans, his fingers splayed, rubbing my clitoris insistently, with the slightest pressure. I moan quietly, move against him.

‘Don’t I know you?’ he says. ‘I know exactly what you want, don’t I?’

It agitates me as he rubs and rubs, softly, softly. He touches me the way he learned from me years ago – the way I touch myself. He studied it. The detail of his knowledge of me devastates. If I were to close my eyes, I could confuse his touch with my own.

But as he nuzzles into my shoulder, I smell sex in his hair and break away from him.

‘Would you at least shower?’ I demand.

‘No, you love that. Tell me you love it.’

In seconds my jeans are gone, my shirt is gone. He holds on to me, won’t let me leave.

‘It’s so soft,’ he says as he touches me. ‘You’re so wet.’

He gets a little bleat out of me as he rubs. Then I clamp my mouth shut. Ah, but then I relax it. I begin to breathe in the sex smell in his hair; I begin almost to like it.

‘Maya. Tell me you want this.’

‘I want it.’

‘I knew you did.’ And I do. And it is hours, then, before we can stop.

About the Author:

Julie Hilden graduated from Harvard, and earned a law degree at Yale and an MA in creative writing from Cornell. After several years of practicing law, she has now turned to writing full time. Her first book, a memoir entitled The Bad Daughter, was published by Algonquin Books, and she has also written for Slate magazine. She lives in New York City.

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford

Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger

The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu

The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell

The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell

Hogg by Samuel R. Delany

The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany

Sad Sister by Florence Dugas

The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés

Dark Ride by Kent Harrington

3 by Julie Hilden

Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg

Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg

The Agency by David Meltzer

Burn by Michael Perkins

Dark Matter by Michael Perkins

Evil Companions by Michael Perkins

Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl

Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Kinky Boots: Sexy Possession Coming Soon!

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Of course I had to set my petite novel, Kinky Boots, in Shoreditch! Where else in London could possibly have that sexy, slightly mystical, more than a little raunchy, have-a-good-time feel to it? Yes, I know I might be a little bit prejudiced. I have so many fond memories of Shoreditch because Sh! Women’s Store is there, and that’s my favourite place for launch parties and celebrating all things sexy.

I had the basic storyline in my head for Kinky Boots long before I put the first word down. I knew all about Jill Hart and her sexy new boots that came with something extra. I knew all about Finn Masters, the owner of Demon Heels, the quirky all-night shoe store where Jill buys her kinky boots. And I knew all about Eleanor, the lust demon who moves right in and makes herself at home — in Jill, that is. What I couldn’t quite decide was where to set Kinky Boots.  Raymond and I were in London for the weekend. Friday night at Sh! there had been readings from Best Women’s Erotica 2012, and we were staying on for the launch of Kay Jaybee’s great BDSM novel, The Perfect Submissive the next night. On  Saturday afternoon after a delish kabab at a local shop, Kay, Raymond and I decided to go for a walk in the July sunshine. And I was hooked! In front of Shoreditch City Hall, a lesbian wedding party were posing for pictures, the place was buzzing with shoppers, and I found not one but three quirky shoe shops on Shoreditch High Street, any one of which would perfectly suit my story.

In daylight, I was totally taken in by the wild blend of ultra modern glass and steel right up in the personal space of Victorian brick and stone,Kinky_Boots snuggled in close to streets that looked as though they came straight from a Sherlock Holmes novel. All of that was mixed up with industrial ruins and modern make-overs that made for an architectural orgy perfectly suited for my story. Kay, who had studied industrial archeology, gave me the low-down on what I was actually looking at.  I’d already done enough launch parties in Shoreditch to know that the streets on Friday and Saturday night are alive with people who won’t settle for less than a great time, and that was all it took. Voila! Kinky Boots was set in Shoreditch, starting with a botched girls night out at the Bluu Bar across from Sh!, a night out that ends with sex in an all-night shoe store, hot new boots, and posession by sexiest lust demon ever.

On the 24th of January, Kinky Boots, published by Mischief Books, will be officially available for possession! I’m very excited to share just a little peek of the wickedly naughty fun to come. There’ll be a blog tour and more updates as they happen. In the meantime, here’s just a sneak preview of what happens when mild-mannered Jill Hart meets lust demon extraordinare, Eleanore.

Blurb:

After a sizzling encounter in DEMON HEELS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Excerpt:

Jill returned to her flat feeling pretty chuffed with the events of the evening. Nice place, Kinky Boots. Really nice. And the bloke who ran it – hotter than hot. There was something else about him, something strangely familiar, almost like if they sat down together over a cuppa they’d discover that they’d always known each other. She smiled to herself at the thought. She really couldn’t imagine them getting through a whole cuppa together without her ripping his jeans off and shagging him senseless. Even with his clothes on, it hadn’t been hard to tell that he was very nicely equipped for the task. She looked down at her lovely new boots, boots she’d left without paying for. It was the perfect excuse for going back.

* * *

shoreditch2Under the circumstances, she figured she’d be too hyped to sleep, but she did so almost instantly.

And before long the room was awash in mist that floated and swirled around her bed. Had the weather turned while she was sleeping, bringing the fog? Had she forgotten to shut her window? A sudden gust of cool wind cleared the mist just enough for Jill to catch the first glimpse of the woman at the foot of her bed, pale and translucent, lit with way more silver light than even the full moon could provide.

Strange, as she approached the bed, the curvy, feminine shape of her was clear, as though her thin clingy robe were made from the mist itself, but the woman’s face remained out of focus, as though Jill were viewing her from underwater.

She sat down on the bed next to her, and still Jill couldn’t make out the details of her face. But her voice was rich and silky, and Jill had the urge to wrap herself in the caress of it. ‘I’ve waited a long time for you, Jill Hart. Finn is such a spoilsport, not letting me play. But you’re different. He likes you, and he’ll warm to the idea of the two of us. You’ll see.’ She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. ‘Now then, sweetie, let’s have a look. Let’s see our lovely new body.’ As she reached out to smooth Jill’s hair away from her face, Jill was suddenly unable to move.

It was a dream then, surely a dream, Jill thought; one of those where someone important is at the door, but you’re paralysed, lying there in the bed, and, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t move.

The woman leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, and her breath was winter-cold but sweet and hypnotic with its icy in and out, in and out.

With a flick of her wrist she threw back the duvet and sighed her delight. Jill was surprised to find herself naked. ‘Oh, my darling, how I’ve Shoreditch town halllonged to bear the weight of breasts again, to feel the hardening and puckering of their arousal.’ She brushed cold fingertips across Jill’s nipples and they rose to a touch that was irresistible. Jill would have arched up against the cool feathery caress if she’d been able. Instead she lay unmoving, her chest rising and falling faster and faster, her nipples pearled to hard beads begging for the woman’s attention.

The woman continued her explorations. ‘Oh, the delight of belly and hips, and, ah, yes, such softness down there.’ She trailed her fingers down Jill’s tummy and cupped her mons, caressed and fondled her tight curls, and the sound that escaped Jill’s lips was a kittenish mew.

The woman smiled knowingly. ‘The pleasures of the flesh, my lovely, how we shall share them, how we shall revel in them, you and I. It’ll be so delicious for both of us, I promise you.’ Then, with the flat of her hand, she opened Jill’s legs.

Jill was helpless to deny her access, even if she’d wanted to, and she didn’t. It was only a dream, she told herself, and sexy dreams should come as no surprise after her encounter at Kinky Boots. And anyway, it had to be a dream because she was too shy even to undress in front of Vivie, and here she lay practically willing this woman to check out all that she had … down there.

‘Let us see, my darling,’ the woman cooed. ‘Let us see you.’ Jill watched helplessly as the woman forced her knees up and wide until Jill felt herself exposed, butter-cream slick and heavy.

Shoreditch 1images‘Yes, my love. That’s it. Let me see what we shall have such delight in sharing. Oh, yes, lovely. So lovely.’ With one hand still resting in Jill’s pubic curls the woman lowered her face for a closer look. Then with a scoop and a twist she trailed fingers up between Jill’s cleft and brought them to her lips as though she were tasting her favourite dish. ‘Mmm,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Finn’s going to love you.’ She lowered a tongue-flick of a kiss onto Jill’s hard clit, and Jill came. The electrifying power of her orgasm raged through her paralysed body to every nerve ending, every blood cell, every synapse, raging out in all directions, then returning in a hot rush of energy to the hardened node of her clit before settling deep inside her. She could neither writhe nor buck. All she could do was moan and quiver.

‘Oh, yes, my darling, you are delightful, the way your lovely pussy muscles tighten and convulse when you come. How wonderful it will be to have a body with such libido, such hunger. Oh, how Finn will ride you. I think that –’

The woman was interrupted by the call of a man. ‘Eleanor? Eleanor, are you there?’

She put a finger to her lips. ‘He’ll find out eventually, dear Jill, but when he does it’ll no longer matter.’ She brushed a kiss across Jill’s lips, and for the first time Jill got a clear view of the woman’s face. She recognised it well because it was her face. Before she could dwell on the strangeness of such a revelation, the woman lay down in her arms, nuzzled in tight against Jill’s breasts and pulled the duvet up over both of them. From a distance Jill could still hear the man calling for Eleanor, but that was the last thing she remembered until morning.

Buy Links:

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

 

 

 

New Release by Adriana Kraft – Too Close for Comfort

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Series: Swinging Games, Book Nine

ABOUT SWINGING GAMES, THE SERIES: Are you curious about the swing lifestyle? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to participate in a threesome or more-some? How about a little voyeurism? In our Swinging Games series at Extasy Books you can experience the thrill of anticipation, the anxious moments of that first lifestyle encounter, the heat of three, four and more-way erotic adventures, house parties, swing clubs and more, through the eyes of our hero and heroine, Brett and Jennifer Andrews. Here’s how they got their start:

What’s a girl to do? Happily married with all her children grown, Jennifer Andrews has finally figured out she’s bi-sexual – but just turning on to hot f/f fiction and videos isn’t enough. She wants the real thing, and she want to share it with Brett. Addition sounds so much better than subtraction. Will the swing lifestyle be the answer they’re seeking? They’re determined to find out.

BLURB: Too Close for Comfort

It all seemed so simple: Sarah Creston would move in for the summer, Brett and Jen Andrews could revel in their new threesome, and everyone else would understand. But now Donna and Ryan – their best friends and lovers – won’t speak to them, and Jen seems so infatuated with Sarah that even Brett is worried about the consequences.

Battered from the double whammy of her husband’s death and caring for her aging parents, Sarah Creston thrills to Jen and Brett’s exquisite care and ravishing sex. Now that she’s had her first taste of a woman, will she be satisfied – or will she want more?  Everything hinges on what Sarah wants.

AVAILABLE FROM

http://www.extasybooks.com/too-close-for-comfort/

http://www.amazon.com/Close-Comfort-Swinging-Games-ebook/dp/B008IVMFVK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Close-Comfort-Swinging-Games-ebook/dp/B008IVMFVK/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1342697016&sr=1-10

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-toocloseforcomfort-910778-146.html

http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b134448/Too-Close-for-Comfort/Adriana-Kraft/?si=0

REVIEW Read what author and reviewer Destiny Blaine had to say at Romance Reviews by Authors: http://romancereviewsbyauthors.blogspot.com/2012/08/book-review-too-close-for-comfort-by.html

With a gift for writing remarkable dialogue, Adriana Kraft used her characters to show how swingers are able to manage the lifestyle, hold a marriage together, and pursue other relationship interests while remaining true to their lifelong commitments. The scenes between multiple lovers weren’t forced or unnatural. In fact they were beautifully relayed in a fashion which draws the reader into the heart of these characters’ most intimate moments.

 

EXCERPT

“I don’t want you hurt, Jen.” Brett crossed his legs and uncrossed them. “Hell, I don’t like seeing our friends hurt, either.”

“I know. I know. But you’ll support me.”

“Of course, I will. But Sarah is her own person in all of this. She may not fit into our lives at all over time. We might just be a stepping stone on her journey.”

Jen tensed, certain Brett could see the blood draining from her cheeks.

“She may become too possessive.” Brett twisted his mouth in thought. “Or maybe she’ll be more like us than you realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe she’ll be as intrigued and fulfilled with swinging as we are.”

“Do you really think she’ll swing on her own?”

“She found us, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but…”

“Maybe she’ll swing with us. Maybe she’ll swing on her own. Maybe this taste of swinging with us will satisfy her curiosity by the end of summer and she’ll be ready to go find a guy and live happily ever after.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“Who knows? Given how I saw her respond to her first taste of a woman, it’s hard to imagine she’ll give up women completely.

Jen wet her lips. “She was wonderful. I’m just so pleased I was her first.”

“I know you are. All I’m saying is I’ll be surprised if you’re Sarah’s only woman.”

Jen crossed her arms under her breasts. “I know that.” Her voice cracked. “No matter what you think or Donna or Ryan…” Jen felt her pulse quicken. “I’m not wanting to keep Sarah for myself. But she needs time.”

“Okay.” Brett exhaled softly. “Time is what you have. But I’m not sure Sarah’s timetable and Donna and Ryan’s timetable are going to necessarily match yours.”

 

ABOUT ADRIANA KRAFT

Adriana Kraft is the pen name under which my husband and I co-write erotic romance. I don’t know if that makes us hot, but it sure heats up our lives, and we love passing on the spice and the heat to our readers. Our tag line is Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More, so you can probably guess ménage is our favorite genre to write. Romance Junkies says our work is “filled with warmth, blazing hot sex, well-developed characters…not for the faint of heart.”  We hope you’ll stop by and check us out!

ADRIANA KRAFT ON THE WEB:

Website: http://www.adrianakraft.com/

Blog: http://www.adrianakraft.com/blog

FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/people/Adriana-Kraft/100001944980679

FaceBook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Adriana-Kraft/182846025133440

Twitter http://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft

GoodReads http://www.goodreads.com/author/list/1578571.Adriana_Kraft

Midnight Seductions http://midnightseductionsauthors.blogspot.com/

Sapphic Planet: http://www.sapphicplanet.com

Filthy Fun Al Fresco, in which All Goes Swimmingly

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In honour of the summer we almost had this year in Britain, here’s the second installment to my filthy fun al fresco extravaganza, K D style. The great outdoors has always inspired me to write all manner of naughtiness. And nothing is more deliciously naughty in the summer heat that a little skinny dipping, especially when it’s done with just the right companion. This hot little excerpt is from my Mischief novella, Surrogates. Enjoy the heat.  And the wet.

Blurb:

DANIEL ALEXANDER III takes his marriage vows seriously. Until he gets the balls to ask his wife, BEL, for a divorce, watching each other masturbate is all he can offer his beautiful gardener, FRANCIE CARTER. But when Dan’s friend, SIMON PARIS, agrees to be his surrogate, affairs of the heart get complicated.

Excerpt:

Simon yanked his mobile from his pocket, and Francie came to his side. ‘Is it from Dan?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘He’s not coming.’

‘What do you mean, he’s not coming?’ Francie grabbed the phone away from him and read:

            Must cancel. Have an emergency meeting. Will make it up to you.

She handed the phone back to Simon and sat rigid on the edge of the love seat. He could see her pulse hammering in her neck. He could see the rise and fall of her throat as she swallowed hard. But there were no tears.

‘I should go then,’ he said softly.

She didn’t reply, only sat there without looking at him.

‘I can’t make it tomorrow. I’m in Guildford all day.’ He could smell her, like he could smell lavender in a garden at high summer long before he could see it. The smell of her sex he had memorized from the very first time he held her in his arms, but the rest of her scent had unfolded itself to him more slowly. The smell of outdoors was always on her, the smell of earth, the smell of clean female sweat. All of it, the whole of her, the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, the cadence of her breath, the heat radiating from her body, all of those things, settled around him tight-fitting and raw. ‘I need to go,’ he said again, resting a hand on the curve of her shoulder.

‘No you don’t. You don’t need to go.’ She shrugged off his hand, popped up off the love seat and headed out the door of the summer house at a fast trot, leaving her garden shoes behind.

Still barefoot himself, he followed her across the warm grass out past the rose garden, down over the hill into the mini wilderness that would become the Renaissance garden, and down to the deep pool at the edge of the stream. She undid the tie at the side of her dress and shrugged it off without breaking pace, stepping out of her thong and giving it a toss before she moved into the calm deep of the water, then dived under. For the tiniest fraction of a second, he feared she might mean herself harm. But she surfaced before he could even get his T-shirt off. She floated with her head back and the tips of her nipples breaking the surface. ‘Well?’ she called out. ‘Are you coming or not? You can swim, can’t you?’

‘Of course I can swim.’ He stripped off and stepped into the bright glare of the water. He was already erect, and her watching him did nothing to ease the pressure. ‘You know what’ll happen if I catch you?’ he said, nodding down to his cock.

She swam towards him in an easy crawl stroke. ‘You’re assuming you’ll have to catch me,’ she said, and then she dove. It wasn’t until he felt a tug on his hips and her mouth tightening around his cock that he figured out what she was up to.

‘Jesus,’ he gasped as she cupped and gently squeezed his balls. His feet were just barely touching ground. She seemed to be slowly pulling him with the nips and tugs of her mouth deeper and deeper until he had to tread water to keep his head from going under, careful not to kick her as he did so. And still she didn’t surface.

‘Francie,’ he grunted. ‘Francie don’t stay down too long.’ But fuck, it felt so good, it felt so dangerously out of control as she sucked his cock then cupped his buttocks, then fingered his anus. Damn it! He wanted to bear down, he wanted to thrust, but the water held him in precarious weightlessness, and still she sucked and fondled. ‘Oh God, Francie! Good Christ, Francie please.’

One finger was buried knuckle-deep in his arsehole while the other hand kneaded his balls right on the border between pain and pleasure. And her mouth! Fuck, her mouth had him gripped and sucked in a tight wet paradise with her tongue flicking over the underside of his cock, and still she didn’t surface.

‘Francie… Francie enough!’ He grabbed her under the armpits and hauled her up. She surfaced enough to take a deep drag of air then she took his mouth, pulling him under in the process. And she held him there, her mouth on his, tongue darting, teeth nipping, gulping at him, and he gulped back even as his lungs cried out for oxygen. And just when he thought he’d have to manhandle her into shallow waters, she gave a powerful kick, moved into position, wrapped her legs around him, and his cock slipped into her tight grip just as his feet touched solid ground and the water broke over their heads. Oxygen raced back into starving lungs, taken in through their noses as they continued to eat and lap and nip at each other’s mouths. He took her face in his hands and pulled her away enough that he could look into her eyes. ‘Jesus, Francie, you scared me. I thought we were drowning.’

‘We are, Simon,’ she said, biting his lower lip then tightening her grip around his waist and matching his thrust. ‘We are drowning.’ He could tell by the tremors that began around his cock and shivered up her spine that she was coming. Her grip was far too tight and demanding for him not to follow suite.

They crawled to the grass at the edge of the stream, collapsed into each other’s arms and fell asleep. When he woke up, the sun was setting and she was gone. He went to her cottage and knocked, but her car was gone and the place was dark and silent. There was nothing to do but go home and hope that he hadn’t ruined everything. But then it was hardly his fault, was it? He really did try to practice some restraint. Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.

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Mischief

 

How Reviews Spurred Lily Harlem On to Write Stockholm Surrender

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It’s a pleasure to welcome the lovely Lily Harlem back to A Hopeful Romantic with the story behind her sizzling novel, Stockholm Surrender. Welcome Lily!

Be they good or bad reviews are part of the territory when you’re an author. I am happy to say that the vast majority of reviews for my books are positive and it completely thrills me to know readers have enjoyed my stories.

One book however seemed to create a bit of a Marmite effect. People either loved it or hated it. It is a free short read that came out at Ellora’s Cave a couple of years ago called Stockholm Seduction. It is about a Penny Tipping, the British Foreign Ministers daughter, enjoying a gap year in Australia. She is kidnapped by a hunky surfer and…

Actually it’s probably easier for you to read the blurb –

I was having a fabulous extended gap year in Oz. Sun, sea, sand and seriously hot surfers rolling in on every wave. Mmm, what could possibly be better?

But then I was taken…taken against my will. Stolen like a prized object. I was tied up, held for ransom. I didn’t know if I would survive, if I would walk away alive. And then, to top it all off, I was tortured in the sweetest, most delicious, most sensual way imaginable.

That was when I realized my fun down under had only just begun.

To be honest I didn’t think much more about this story after it was released. It was just a taster for people to hear my voice and sample my style without having to pay for it.

Then about a year ago I was wandering around Amazon looking for something to read when I came across reviews for Stockholm Seduction. I was surprised to find that it either had the ick factor or the ‘more’ factor. Here are a couple of reader comments from either side of that spectrum.

“A woman is kidnapped, and decides to have sex with her captor? The message in this short story is disturbing on so many levels.”

And…

“I was panting to know what happened when he found her next! I’ve read romantic short stories before, and they always left me hollow, but Lily’s left me craving. I would definitely recommend this e-book if you want a quick read with steamy scenes, hot men, and women that know what they want and are not ashamed to admit it. I get excited shivers thinking what the author could do with a full length book!”

This got me really thinking and I headed over to Goodreads to see what readers had said there. The overwhelming comments were to the effect of “this story is too short” and “where is the rest?”

So me being me, I got my naughty mind whirring and over the next few weeks waited to see if the characters would talk to me again. I wanted desperately to oblige the people who had taken the time to comment on the book and give them the rest of the novel.

Luckily Penny and Ty were desperate to have their steamy tale told and soon it was evolving in my mind and flowing from my fingertips at a rate of knots.

But like all novels there are stumbling blocks. In this case I had the basics of the plot already written, not only that those facts were published, out there in the world. There was absolutely nothing I could do to undo anything. The delete button was non-existent for that crucial first part of the novel.

So what I had was Ty Winters trying to free his friend James Hill from Thai prison by holding Penny Tipping to ransom. He wanted a better human rights lawyer and her influential father to help release him from a harsh sentence for a minor crime. From the word go Penny and Ty have a very strong attraction to one another that Ty in particular struggles with – that was never part of his kidnapping plan. What I did do in the original short story that helped immensely though was leave it on a Terminator-type line “I’ll be back.” So that was a nice springboard to leap off of in chapter one.

One of the reasons I enjoyed writing this so much was because I got to send Ty and Penny to Bangkok one of my most favourite cities. The colours, the vibrancy, the smells and the people really flooded my head again as I wrote this section of the story and I hope my love of Bangkok comes across in my descriptions.

James was an interesting character, who when I wrote the initial short story wasn’t someone I thought I would ever meet. He was just a name plucked out of the air and a reason for Ty to take Penny. But then, writing Stockholm Surrender, I had to meet him. I was very glad I did, he was quite a challenge. Why? Because I needed him to be a suitable best mate for adrenaline-junkie Ty, which meant he too had to have a streak of wildness about him, but at the same time having a death penalty hanging over his head and living in hell for so long had to have some effect on him. By that I mean physically, emotionally and sexually. Luckily Penny was incredibly empathetic to his vulnerability and masculinity and the scenes with James flowed deliciously onto the page.

So I guess, now that the novel to accompany Stockholm Seduction is out there I have to say a big thank you to everyone who asked for more from Penny and Ty. Because if they hadn’t taken the time to poke me into action this story would never have been written. And that folks, is the story behind the story.

Thanks so much for having me today KD, its always fun to come and hang out on your blog. Below are more details for Stockholm Surrender.

Blurb for Stockholm Surrender

My soul was in turmoil. Ty Winters had not only kidnapped me in Oz, my heartstoppingly gorgeous surfer had also stoked my darkest desires, bringing all my fantasies to the surface. So Oxford wasn’t going well. Until, that is, he creeped from the shadows—desperate, sexy, dangerous and wanting a piece of me, literally!

He teased me with a taste of his carnal skills, leaving me burning with frustration then forced to stand by as he fought for his beliefs using my lust-addled body as his most powerful weapon.

Oh, my kidnapper knew just how to get what he wanted, giving me just what I needed, while hiding our relationship from the British foreign minister and police. Because sometimes two people are meant to be, even in the most unconventional circumstances and twisted situations. We could fight the world, but we couldn’t fight our passion.

Reader Advisory: This book contains a steamy scene where Ty shares Penny with his best mate—lucky girl!

Excerpt from Stockholm Surrender

With my window letting in the sounds of the city, I spread my notes on my bed and tapped away on my netbook. The history of law was everyone’s most hated subject, but I knew the sooner I tackled it the better. Leaving it to the last minute would be crazy.

Eventually though, as darkness claimed the hall grounds and the lampposts flicked on, I decided to call it a day, or rather a night. Saved my work and flopped back on the bed. I would just stretch out for ten minutes before I got up to change and get ready for sleep.

But sleep wouldn’t wait, and before I knew it I felt myself drifting. Falling into a dark, dreamy world. My eyes were heavy, my breathing shallow. I let myself go—float into a world of thoughts and nothingness, white clouds and black sleep.

“Shh!”

There was tightness over my mouth and pressure over the entire length of my body. Whatever it was had squeezed the air from my lungs and was pinning me to the bed. I opened my eyes, panicked.

“Shh!” Ty said, his eyes wide and his nose practically touching mine.

Hastily, I nodded. Oh my god. Was I dreaming or was Ty really here, lying on the bed with me?

He hesitated then lifted his gloved hand from my mouth just a fraction. “You are going to keep quiet, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I whispered.

This was no dream.

“Good, ’cause I don’t want that copper who’s stalking you to come crashing in.”

“He won’t. I promise.”

Ty lifted up, reached over and shut the window. With a snap, he drew the curtains then pulled off his gloves.

“Is that how you got in?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Really, up the tree, and…” Something was different. I realized what it was. “Why has the lamppost gone off?”

“I tripped it, didn’t want anyone seeing me breaking into the foreign minister’s daughter’s bedroom.” He grinned naughtily.

“And did they?”

“No, I shouldn’t think so, not at three in the morning.”

“Three?” I glanced at my bedside clock. Sure enough, it was three a.m.

He chuckled and lay back down next to me. “I guess you got carried away with your studies. I used to be like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, don’t look so shocked, I have a first in sports science.” He touched his finger to the bald patch of my scalp and a rush of heated desire poured through me. “I know all about the human body,” he whispered, “and exactly what it needs to stay healthy and happy and…satisfied.”

Unable to suppress a whimper of pure lust, I slid my hand over his shoulders and tugged him closer. “I wish you would damn well give me some of the satisfaction I need.”

“You’re always so demanding, and so…damn…horny.” He touched his lips to mine, soft and gentle, his tongue peeking into my mouth and past my teeth to tangle and turn and explore. “Oh Jesus, Penny, you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Good, because that’s how you make me feel.”

He stroked down the column of my neck, dipping his fingertip into the hollow of my throat and down my sternum. “I want you so bad,” he said, “but there is something we have to do before we can be together.”

“What?” What could he possibly need to do other than put on a damn condom? His erection was growing by the second against my hip. All I needed was for him to get inside me like he had before. Thrust and grind and do that thing to my clit he was so bloody good at. Just the thought of it had me shivering.

“Wait,” he said, reaching behind himself.

Suddenly a tight strip of tape slapped over my mouth. Gone was the luscious kissing of moments ago and in its place foul plastic stickiness.

“Mmmph!” I managed, trying to project massive indignation with my eyes.

“It won’t take long.”

I tried to reach for the tape, intent on pulling it off, but he had both my hands harnessed in just one of his.

“Sit.” He pulled me upright, tugging at my sweater. “We need this off.”

His breaths were rapid and hot on my face as he moved his hands quickly and efficiently, freeing my arms from the sweater before swiftly dragging it over my head.

“Ah fuck, white,” he said, staring at my pretty lace bra. It had delicate scallop details over the rise of my small, pert breasts and a tiny pale blue flower in the center between the cups. “White is my very favorite.” His voice was almost wistful.

“Mmmph!” I mumbled again. Why did I have this tape on? I said I wouldn’t shout for Roger. Why didn’t he believe me?

“Shh, shh, just for a minute, baby, just for a couple of minutes.” He stood, still holding my wrists tight, and nudged the straight-backed chair out from under my desk with his foot. “Up, come on, sit on here, quickly.” He glanced at the door.

As soon as I was on the chair he was behind me, wrapping what felt like cord around my wrists. I yanked but the binding was tight and attached me to the rungs.

“It’s okay,” he soothed by my ear, his breath warm and tickly. “It’s okay.” He slid his hand over my bare shoulder, tracing the strap of my bra right down to the cup.

I arched my spine, needing his touch so desperately. Ty in my fantasies would have his hands all over me by now. Ty in my fantasies would already be ravishing me until we were both desperately trying to muffle our screams and panting for breath.

But this wasn’t fantasy, this was real. Ty was really here, really tying me up again. And for god’s sake, why was this stuff on my mouth?

He poked his fingers into my bra and tweaked my nipple. I whimpered and fluttered my eyes shut. His caress sent sinful licks of wantonness raging though me.

“Damn it, Ty,” he muttered. “Think of James.” His body heat left me and the next thing I knew he was pulling off my jeans, exposing my tiny white thong. “Ah, fucking hell, what are you trying to do to me?” he groaned, wearing a very real expression of pain.

I couldn’t answer.

He reached back onto the bed for a small, brown leather rucksack. He delved into it and pulled out a newspaper and a camera.

“It’s yesterday’s,” he said. “But your father will still get the message.” He tilted his head and smirked lopsidedly. “The message that I can get to you whenever I want, wherever I want, bodyguard or no bodyguard.” Carefully he laid the newspaper on my lap. It was sort of folded up onto my belly so that the headline was visible. He took a step back and held up a small, silver digital camera. “I would say smile,” he said with a shrug, “but I guess it’s not appropriate.”

Appropriate!

That was the goddamn understatement of the year. Dad was really going to flip at this one. Me in my underwear, gagged, tied to a chair in my room with Roger snoozing outside, just a few feet away. The shit was really going to hit the fan. Big-time.

I heard the camera click once then Ty was back next to me. He folded up the paper and shoved it along with the camera into his bag.

“Mmmph,” I said, shifting on the chair.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he said, bending over me and peeling off the tape. It tugged and stung as it pulled my skin. “Baby, I’m sorry, I just needed to do that.” He shoved the tape into his bag too.

“For fuck’s sake,” I hissed. “That stuff is foul and what the hell are you playing at?”

He stooped and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I allowed my mouth to become pliant and open, let him in to search and gently tease my tongue with his in slow, languid movements. He tasted divine, like fresh water, a hint of vanilla and turned-on man. As he kissed me reverently, indulgently, my irritation with him dissolved as though it were a spoonful of sugar in hot tea. This was what I’d been waiting for, this moment with Ty. The man I shouldn’t want but did. The man whose tenacity and loyalty I admired even though everyone else thought he was a brutish thug who should be hung, drawn and quartered.

“Ty,” I gasped. “Please, untie me.”

“Mmm, in a minute. I kinda like having you at my mercy.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He smiled, slow and sexy. “It gives me all kinds of dirty ideas.”

Buy links:

Stockholm Seduction – FREE – http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8620-stockholm-seduction.aspx

Stockholm Surrender – http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9743-stockholm-surrender.aspx

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk, a crazy cat and an old dog. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. She won the Lovehoney award for erotic fiction in 2009 and has been writing non-stop ever since and is now multi-published by both US and UK houses as well as featuring in numerous anthologies.

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