Tag Archives: Mischief Books

Anything for Him: A Petite Novel by Lily Harlem & Natalie Dae

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

I’m very excited to have a sexy excerpt of the latest offering from the sizzling pens of two of my favourite erotica writers, Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae. Their petite novel, Anything for Him, is now available from Mischief Books. A read too sexy to miss!

Lily Harlem Natlie DaeAnything for him3Blurb:

Just how far will one woman go to fulfill her fantasies?

I prefer to chase the news, not be the news. But when the delectable Liuz, with his uncannily accurate perception of my secret desires weaved its way into my life, it wasn’t long before I was in way too deep, submerged and intoxicated with a passion I was afraid was more than I could handle.

Or was it? Because although my heart was overwhelmed with feelings I had no resistance against, and while my deceitful body was consumed by a burning passion, I still had a plan. A plan I prayed would keep me afloat as I was pushed to the very edge of my limits, while the journey got tougher than even my wildest flights of fantasy could have imagined. I claimed him and I felt that he was rightfully mine. My heart simply couldn’t beat without a permanent connection between our hearts, minds and bodies. Losing was not an option,not when my sanity depended on winning him.

Because I would, quite literally, do anything for him.

Excerpt:

A small smile dallied on his lips before he compressed them, obliterating the tiny glimpse I’d gained into his feelings. He’d looked tender just then, smitten – or was that just my high hopes? – and it made me want to reach up and stroke his cheek. Cup it to let him know I felt the same. But I didn’t, too afraid that if I moved, the spell would be broken and I’d be banished to darkness once more.

So I watched him watching me, smiled myself at the tiny crinkles beside his eyes. Were they from age or laughter? I wanted to see him laugh, a real belly laugh, to giggle with me on lazy Sunday mornings.

That would never happen.

I was just being fanciful, allowing the softer side of me to come to the fore and, inwardly, I cursed myself for it. I needed to stay on the track our journey had begun on, with Liuz my master and me the willing follower. If I tried to manipulate things, who knew what would happen? I had a good idea. He’d say the stop word, and my world would be shattered. Damn, I’d become attached and shouldn’t have. No, I needed to scour these new feelings away, wash any remnants down the drain, because if I didn’t, it would be over faster.

Over. I never want it to be over.

Him reaching out his hand for mine, twining his fingers with mine, brought me up short. Another show of tenderness I hadn’t expected, bringing my previous thoughts and hopes rushing back.

Stop it. He was just doing that to waste time between fucks. It didn’t mean anything. Not a damn thing.

‘You have tiny hands,’ he said, gaze glued to our knot of fingers. ‘So tiny.’

Shit, his words melted me into a pool of goo. I wanted to see what he saw, to see through his eyes, but his face was telling me so much more. That little smile was back, the dimple in his cheek, and his eyes had taken on a dreamy look that I would swear expressed similar thoughts to mine.

Was he feeling something for me? Something more than seeing me as a woman he could use? I couldn’t hope. Just couldn’t.

To stop myself falling even more madly in love with him – or more obsessed – I dragged my sights from his face and stared at our hands. I shouldn’t have done that. What I saw were hands that belonged together, his large palm pressed against my smaller one, the tips of my slim fingers barely peeking from between his thick, longer digits. My stomach rolled with the realisation that I had allowed myself to go too far when I’d removed the blindfold. I’d encouraged intimacy, ousted the security blindness had given me, and I knew I was in all kinds of trouble now.

‘Do you think,’ he said, still studying our hands, ‘you could have another man after me?’

Oh, I knew where this was going, why he’d asked that question. Beefcake. I tensed, hoping he’d think it was a natural reaction to his query and not that I knew what was going to happen at some point tonight. I swallowed, hoping my voice came out strong when I replied. Should I give the true answer burning my tongue? The one where I was honest and said that no man would ever match up to him? No man would ever make me feel as sexy, as dirty, and as needed as he did? Or should I shrug it off, behave as I was supposed to and give him a hell yeah?

I decided to hedge my bets, play it safe. ‘Um, in what context?’

‘It’s simple. Just like I said. Could you have another man after me?’

After me. He meant tonight, me having another man straight after he’d been inside me. I could, would do that for him.

‘Well,’ I said, dredging courage up from the shadowy little corner it had retreated to when I’d taken the blindfold off. ‘You’ve made it clear we’re not going anywhere. You let me know we’re just fuck buddies, so I haven’t got attached.’ Liar. ‘So when you say the stop word, yes, I’d fuck someone else.’ Eventually. When I picked up the pieces of my heart and glued them back together.

Oh, hell. I’d really gone and fallen for him, hadn’t I?

I’d said what he might want to hear, but at the same time I’d made it clear that when he said the stop word, I’d become attached to someone else. I’d effectively told him I belonged to him and him alone until he ended what we had. Those were my true thoughts, but I knew without doubt that in order for him to keep his knees intact, to have unbroken arms and legs – or worse – I’d give myself to Beefcake.

If Liuz picked up on what I’d actually said, would he send Beefcake away? He couldn’t. He had no alternative but to pay the man one way or another.

If only I had the money to give him.

He sighed. ‘But imagine if I did not want to say the stop word yet.’

Yet. He was going to end it at some point. Oh, God, Hannah, you stupid, stupid woman. What have you got yourself into here?

‘Maybe I want to share you with someone,’ he continued, stroking his thumb over my inner wrist.

‘I’m not sure what you mean.’ I must have sounded dense, but I needed to stall him so I could think on what he’d just said. He was putting it in a nice way, making out he wanted to share me. So he wasn’t going to admit that I was payment, that I was a nothing who didn’t deserve being made privy to what he’d planned. I understood why he couldn’t say. I mean, how rude would that sound? You see, Aniolku,it’s like this. I owe a dangerous man some money … But on the other hand, he was asking my opinion. He cared enough to find out whether I could handle this instead of just assuming I would.

That had to count for something, didn’t it?

Whatever it counted for, I grabbed hold of it and hugged it to me.

‘What I mean is, I need to share you with someone. Maybe one time, maybe two.’

Need. He hadn’t said he wanted to.

‘What brought this on?’ I asked, looking into his eyes. Every nerve in my body seemed to be screaming, making me tense, my mind full of questions I had no time to answer.

‘I have …’ He stopped, unhooked his hand from mine and lifted his arm to cup my cheek. His eyes flicked left to right, left to right, showing me he was unsure of how to word things.

Those actions had my emotions soaring. He cared. He bloody cared!

I warded off a huge smile, saying instead, ‘You have what?’

His hand burned my cheek, and his thumb tip brushing the soft skin beside my eye almost – almost – had me crying. I was on dangerous ground in more ways than one here.

‘I have a problem I need your help with, Aniolku.’

I laughed, reverting back to my original role, of who he thought I really was. ‘You need help from me? Now, that isn’t the man I know. You’ve given me the impression you don’t need help from anyone.’

‘I do not usually need help, but tonight I do. Something went wrong.’

‘Something went wrong?’ I purposely made my voice light, acted as though I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. ‘With what? And what’s another man fucking me got to do with it?’

He had two options. He’d either confess or make some bullshit story up.

Please let it be a confession.

He sighed again, moved his hand from my cheek to cup the ball of my shoulder.

Stroked languidly, circling my skin as though the action calmed him. Or maybe he was doing it to pacify me, to butter me up?

‘I – I promised you to someone else,’ he said bluntly, the words in his usual brittle, no-nonsense form but his eyes giving him away. He stared at my forehead, took his hand from my shoulder to fiddle with my tufty hair.

‘You did?’ I said, going for the incredulous tone.

‘I did. How do you feel about that?’

Buy Links:

Download now: £0.99

The Story Behind In His House of Submission by Justine Elyot

Guest Blogger, , , , , , , ,

The Story Behind The Story

 

It’s a pleasure to have back as my guest on The Story Behind the Story one of my very favourite writers and an all-around fab person, Justine Elyot. Welcome back, Justine!

 

Consuming Passions?

Here I am, taking shameless advantage of K D’s hospitality again, with a Mischief Petite Novel to tell you about.

It’s October now and the leaves are on the ground, but for this story we have to revisit the summer. I hope yours was a good one. Sarah’s certainly was.

In His House of Submission, history graduate Sarah Wells has taken a summer job archiving the antique treasures at the substantial home of famous film director, Jasper Jay. From the start, they have a shared passion – they both love things that have a past.

That’s not the only interest they have in common either, as Sarah soon finds out when she stumbles across his vast collection of BDSM paraphernalia.

Are the passions that bind them together strong enough to withstand other forces in their lives that conspire to keep them apart, though? Here’s an excerpt:

I presented myself for breakfast in the kitchen in my usual long skirt and top-and-scarf combo. He stopped me before I sat down and asked me to show him my underwear.

I almost asked why, but checked myself in time. Instead, I silently pulled up my top and then lifted my skirt, my pulse racing. Despite the soreness below, I felt ready to take more of him, tingling with the shameful joy of submission.

‘Too much,’ he said. ‘Go upstairs and take it off. You aren’t going to need underwear for the next six weeks. Unless I ask you to wear it. Go on, then.’ He waved the spatula at me. I could imagine that being quite a useful spanking implement.

When I came back down, he beckoned me over to the counter, where he was buttering toast. With his other hand, he felt my breasts through the thin cotton top, rubbing at my nipples until they stood out through the fabric, bullet-hard and unmistakable. When that was done to his satisfaction, he lifted my skirt and checked for the presence of knickers. Finding none, he rewarded me with a luscious, filthy, grope-filled snog.

‘Sit down,’ he said, sliding eggs on to the toast before sorting out more coffee. ‘But you have to raise your skirt. I want your bare bottom touching the seat. And you can lift up your top too. And keep your legs wide apart.’

Sitting like that, with my top bunched over the top of my breasts and my thighs split while the varnished wooden seat chilled my bare bum, I couldn’t escape the reality of my submission. It was profound and absolute, and it was going to touch every aspect of my daily life.

Jasper watched me, smiling slyly, as he dug into his breakfast. I could barely touch mine, my appetite killed by the overwhelming presence of sex in the air around me, touching my skin, feeding itself into me.

‘Eat up,’ he said, pointing at my plate with his knife. ‘You need it, girl. I’ve plans for you.’

It was an order. I had to obey.

I made a decent attempt at eating my eggs, but the toast stuck in my throat. The coffee didn’t help, so strong it gave me jitters. I spilled a drop and it landed on my nipple, making me gasp and almost make a sound. But I managed not to.

Jasper tutted and dabbed my nipple with some kitchen roll, for much longer than was strictly necessary. Then he kissed it better.

Dropping down between my knees, he had a good long look at my widespread pussy, prodding at it until I winced.

‘That’s a well-fucked pussy,’ he diagnosed. ‘Swollen and red, it is. I think we’ll have to take it a bit easy today. But there are lots of things we can do that don’t involve the old in-out. Aren’t there?’

He raised flashing eyes to me.

I bit my lip and made a gesture intended to convey the phrase, ‘You tell me.’

He smiled. ‘So much to learn.’

 

If you want to know what Sarah learns from – and teaches – Jasper, here’s some more information.

Justine Elyot His House of SubmissionHe’s a collector with some kinky interests on the side. She’s here to catalogue his possessions. But will she end up being one of them?

Sarah turns up at Jasper Jay’s country house thinking she has been hired to make an inventory of his large collection of historical artefacts. But when she and her lover, Will, are caught by the boss sneaking a peek at some of his more private pieces, she starts to suspect an ulterior motive. Alone with Jasper Jay in his secluded manor, Sarah finds herself enthralled by the enigmatic collector, especially given the intimate interest she shares with him. Pretty soon, they’re entangled in an intense relationship of domination and submission that excludes the rest of the world. Until it intrudes, in the form of a vengeful Will, bent on exposing everything his erstwhile boss has worked so hard to keep secret.

It’s available right now in all the best e-formats from Mischief Books: http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/his-house-submission/

Thanks to KD for having me again! And thanks to everyone for reading.

Madeline Moore’s Long Journey to Pretty as a Porn Star

Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releases, , , , , , ,

It’s my pleasure to welcome the marvellous Madeline Moore to A Hopeful Romantic today to talk the long road to completion of her exciting new petite novel, Pretty as a Porn Star, and the long road to getting there.

Hi KD and faithful followers of The Story Behind the Story.

Now, you might think the process of taking a book called Pretty As A Porn Star from conception to completion would be quick and easy. But this particular project took years to come to fruition. We have to go back, way back, to 2009.

My novel, Sarah’s Education, was about to be published by the Virgin imprint Black Lace when Random House purchased the parent company. I was now a Black Lace/Virgin/Random House author.

It was high time to start working on my next novel proposal. I’d read a piece in Scarlet Magazine about an ordinary housewife who purchased a strap-on dildo and was instantly transformed into a man-slamming Dominatrix.

In no time, she had quite a collection of videos. The budding porn star convinced her admirably accepting husband to quit his job and help her launch a porn site. At the time of the story, they were making love, making movies, and making money.

The editor of Black Lace, Adam Nevill, and I were batting the concept back and forth when the axe fell. Sarah’s Education was one of the last Black Lace novels to be published.

Some of you may know that I live with Felix Baron, author of Nexus novels like Sweet as Sin and (my favourite) The Persian Girl. Naturally I collapsed with the vapours. We were doomed!

Maxim Jakubowski began discussions with Felix about an offer the publishing house John Blake had made to him: a limited number of crime novels to be published under the Imprint MaxCrime. We pitched an outline and landed a contract. It was fun. Instead of counting sheep to get to sleep at night, I began a body count that included the injured and the dead. I believe the total was 17.

MaxCrime granted us a reprieve that lasted just long enough for our ex-editor Adam Nevill to invite us to join him in a new, digital-only Imprint from the publisher Harper-Collins. Felix and I fumbled at our keyboards, each eager to be the first to say “Yes.”

We were new to digital but we’d read that e-readers like novellas, so we decided we’d each do a petite novel for Mischief.

I had a short story to toss into The Swap and the PAAPS idea (not my favourite acronym ever, although possibly my favourite title) on file. Somewhere it had morphed into the story of film students making money shooting personal videos for select clients.

Adam and I batted PAAPS around some more, tossing Felix the occasional hard ball (Gee, there’s something I never thought I’d type) and it became the love story of Emily and Luke, two film students struggling through their final year of University and wondering, ‘What’s next?’

This is the first time my main characters are madly in love as the story begins. They need to be to survive the experience of spearheading a porn production company comprised above and below the line entirely by students. (Above and below the line is film speak. It means: Executive Producer, Producers, Director, Writer, and Talent – Above the line.

First Assistant Director, Second, Camera, Sound and Crew – Below the line.)

Now why would a gang of film students suddenly start making porn at the end of their tenure in the great halls of academia? Hmm. Because their fees go up, of course!

And there you have it. Three years later, the phoenix that rose from the fire, Madeline Moore’s petite novel Pretty As A Porn Star.

In this excerpt sweet li’l Emily has evolved into a barking Executive Producer for whom the bottom line is product and profit. Luke, up until recently a sensitive film director, has reluctantly helped secure a cougar for a future shoot and is now pressed into service when Emily orders him and Paul to haul ass down to the student demonstration. Marion, Luke’s ex-Friend-with-Benefits, has just phoned in an order to shoot a public fuck for public consumption.

Excerpt:

Luke and Paul stopped at the edge of the crowd. The cacophony of voices, some amplified by megaphones in the classic call-and-response that invited the agitated students to chant in unison, was almost overwhelming.

‘One, Two, Three, Four. We can’t afford to pay no more!’

A police whistle blew and a rowdy protester was captured by cops. The crowd roared its disapproval.

Luke raised the camera. ‘Marion was right about this. It’s wild.’ He shot the protester, who had gone limp, being dragged off to a police van. ‘Don’t get caught, man. I think fucking in a public place might be against the law.’

‘I’m not going be doing any Marion-fucking, my friend.’

‘Huh?’

Paul shook his head. ‘I’m on her no-fly zone. It’s in our files.’

‘Fuck. Emily doesn’t even look at the files anymore. She just tells everyone what she wants and expects them to hop to it. Goddam it!’

‘Sorry man. So, I shoot, you fuck.’

Luke made a split second decision. ‘OK. Here.’ He handed Paul the camera. ‘It’ll be fast and dirty. I’m gonna make a beeline for that sexy bitch and she sure as hell better have her panties off when I get there.’

Paul steadied the camera on his shoulder. ‘At least there’s a lot of press here.’

‘Yeah, maybe if we’re real lucky we’ll make the six o’clock news.’ Luke glowered.

‘I mean I’ll blend right in. I hope.’ Paul flashed Luke another grin. ‘Ready?’

‘I’m more than ready. Stay close, dude. I’m gonna fuck her up the ass until she passes out from pleasure.’

‘Whoa! I’m right behind you! Rolling!’

Luke started through the crowd. His blood was boiling. Little Emily who couldn’t take more than a pinkie up her bum without crying like a Vestal fucking virgin had whored him out again. Without so much as a ‘would you mind, Luke?’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered as he trod on someone’s foot. ‘Man on a mission.’

As a matter of fact, Luke didn’t mind at all. He hadn’t had anal sex since he’d given up fucking for making love with someone so sweet he’d thought he could live without a butt fuck for the rest of his life, if he had to. But ‘sweet’ no longer described Emily. So, if she wasn’t willing to give a man what a man wants, a man, a real man, would get it somewhere else.

The thought of sinking his dick into Marion’s eager asshole was so enticing he was practically running. Paul had better keep up because he sure as hell wasn’t slowing down.

She was easy to spot. Her hennaed head of riotous curls stood out even in a crowd as large and rowdy as this one. Just as she’d said, she was pressed up against the barricade, chanting along with the rest of the crowd. She’d be singing a different tune in a couple of minutes.

Marion didn’t so much as look to see who it was that suddenly grabbed her from behind. She just tilted her ass back, inviting ‘a stranger’ to do whatever he wanted.

He unzipped his pants and flipped up her full, short skirt, exposing her bare ass for a flash. Luke gripped his dick, dipped his knees and jammed his raging hard-on up her ass. No fuss, no muss.

Marion gasped. She froze, both hands gripping the barricade to keep her balance as her assailant rammed the full length of his rod inside her.

‘Atta girl,’ he whispered. ‘Take my great big dick up your ass like the anal slut you are.’

‘What the hell!’ Marion enunciated as best she could, given the circumstances. Obviously, she was doing her part to make sure their dialogue didn’t get lost in the roar of the crowd. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘None of your business.’ Luke, taking his cue from Marion, spoke as clearly as he could and as loudly as he dared. ‘What the fuck difference does it make, bitch? I’ve got what you want. Admit it.’

He pushed harder, jamming her up against the barricade and burying his dick another quarter inch inside her.

‘I want it!’

She knew who it was. He was sure of it. Luke’s memory was flooded with images of Marion and him fucking each other’s brains out. It’d been so easy. So goddam fucking easy. And so much fucking fun.

‘Diddle your clit if you want to come because I don’t give a fuck if you do or not.’

One of Marion’s hands dropped from the barricade. She wriggled it down between the barricade and her body and slid it under the hem of her skirt. She swayed a little.

Now that Luke was inside her both hands were free. He kept one on her shoulder and grabbed the railing of the barricade with the other.

‘Christ,’ he hissed.

‘What the hell?’ A shocked voice let him know they’d been spotted. No time to waste.

‘Hey!’ This voice came from the other side of the barricade. The cops would be on him in a moment. He didn’t care. If they tried to drag him off he’d drag her with him. They’d have to hose the two of them down to separate them now.

Marion moaned. ‘Oh my God . . . ’

Luke fucked her hard and fast. It was heaven to be inside her tight, hot little asshole. It was . . . it was . . . almost too much . . .

‘Fuck!’ The first spurt of come seemed to be sucked from his whole body, from his firmly planted feet to the top of his head.

She whimpered. ‘I’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Please . . . I’m coming right fucking now!’

Her cunt contracted so violently her tunnel squeezed the length of his prick and he spurted again and again and again and again . . .

Luke sunk his teeth into the back of her neck, like a mutt claiming its bitch. It was the only way he could keep from howling.

‘Po po,’ muttered a voice behind him. Right. Paul.

Here came the long arm of the law.

But it didn’t matter. Luke was done. He pulled out, zipped up and took off. He didn’t know if Paul was behind him or had kept his camera on Marion. He didn’t know and he didn’t care. At the moment, he didn’t even care if Marion was getting lost in the crowd or dragged off to the cop van. He was free and that’s all that really mattered.

Free.

* As of this writing Black Lace is back and Mischief is thriving. Madeline Moore eagerly anticipates a bidding war between Random House and Harper-Collins for her upcoming novel, Vanilla Valentine. She also eagerly awaits Santa Claus. Not necessarily in that order.

** For those who care, this essay (excerpt excepted) is written in Canadian English.

Buy Pretty As A Porn Star:

http://www.mischiefbooks.com/  (I’m on the front page! Go now!)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=node%3D341689031&field-keywords=pretty+as+a+porn+star&x=0&y=0

Coming soon to Amazon.com and Amazon.ca but if you need something to tide you over, you can buy Felix Baron’s petite novel Look At Me! at Amazon’s Kindle store. Just search for Mischief Erotica and scroll through the titles. The gang’s all here!

Visit my blog and blow my mind:

http://moremadelinemoore.blogspot.ca/

Find me on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/madeline.moore.906

Tweet me on Twitter:

https://twitter.com/MsMadelineMoore

Or, you know, just leave a comment here! Thanks KD! You’re a gracious hostess, indeed.

Xoxo Mad

Madeline Moore writes contemporary, paranormal and fantasy erotica. In another guise she has co-authored one crime novel and is a produced screenwriter. Madeline is Felix Baron’s fiancée!

Filthy Fun Al Fresco, in which All Goes Swimmingly

Blog, , , , , , ,

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.

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Mischief

 

Anything But Vanilla By Madelynne Ellis — It’s Free!

Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releases, , , , , , ,

It’s my pleasure to welcome the fabulous Madelynne Ellis to The Story Behind the Story today. Madlynne’s going to tell us how Anything But Vanilla came to be, share a hot excerpt and offer a fabulous giveaway of a copy of her historical erotic novella, Capturing Cora, to one lucky commenter. Welcome, Madelynne!

Anything But Vanilla came about because I was asked to produce a novel proposal with a contemporary setting in which the action started right there on the first page. Anyone who is familiar with my work will know that while at least half of my output consists of books with contemporary settings my first love is historical novels. So, here was a challenge—how to get myself interested in writing another modern day book?

First of all, I needed an interesting setting. Office politics make me snore. I became a writer to avoid that rat race. I’m not much for secret clubs, and there’s absolutely nothing sexy about most of my daily chores, eg. the school run. I needed to find somewhere that spelled adventure to me. In the past, I’ve set contemporaries in, Egypt (Passion of Isis), a Scottish castle (Dark Designs), a tiny Yorkshire village (Enticement). While looking back over what I’d already done, I noticed they all have a common element. They’re all remote, isolated places. I needed another out of the way place to infuse with sensuality. An island seemed like the obvious choice, hence I began rekindling my love for St Michael’s Mount and Fort Clonque, which is an island off Alderney, in the Channel Islands.

As soon as I had the setting, an island linked to the mainland by a narrow causeway that flooded at high tide, the characters became clear. Naturally, the island had to have an owner (Bingo! Hero #1. Ric Liddell), and of course there’d be tourists, which meant there’d have to be an ice-cream seller (Hero #2. Zach Blackwater. Yes, I’d already decided it was going to be a ménage). That simply left the heroine. What was she doing on this lonely piece of rock in the English Channel?

Well… she absolutely wasn’t looking for love. Matter of fact, she was running away from a man who was demanding commitment from her. Straight away, I knew Kara North was a woman with a mission. She wasn’t going to be a damsel in distress. She was up for adventure. Liddell Island was going to give her the space to do all the naughty things she liked and dreamed of doing, without facing the constant censure of her family. Not that I wanted things to be too easy for her, which is why I dumped her right in the middle if an “established” if somewhat shaky relationship. The two men might be lovers at the start, but they’re experiencing problems largely because commitment phobic, Ric, doesn’t see why he should give up his poly-amorous lifestyle. I’m not letting on if he’s convinced to change his ways. You’ll have to read the book to find out what happens. (And at the moment you can do that for free as Anything But Vanilla is on promotion at Amazon and Barnes&Noble.)

ANYTHING BUT VANILLA

One girl. Two guys. No Strings…

Leave your inhibitions and prepare to be wicked, because on Liddell Island only the ice-cream is vanilla.

Kara North is on the run. Fleeing from her controlling fiancé and a wedding she never wanted, she accepts the chance offer of refuge on wild, rocky Liddell Island, where she soon catches the eye of the island’s owner, erotic photographer Ric Liddell. Wickedly sexy by day and just plain wicked by night, Ric rules his domain like a feudal lord. He’s used to getting what he wants, without any commitment, and just when Kara thinks she has him hooked, he hides behind a cool, dispassionate mask.

But pleasure comes in more than one flavour when Zachary Blackwater, the charming ice-cream vendor also takes an interest, and wants more than just a tumble in the surf. Zach offers her warmth that she never felt from her ex, and soon it’s not just the ice cream that’s melting.

When Kara learns that the two men have been unlikely lovers for years, she becomes obsessed with the idea of a threesome. Zach is reluctant, until he sees the dynamic effect Kara has on Ric’s emotions. She might be the key to finally capturing Ric’s heart.

Soon Kara is wondering how she ever considered binding herself to just one man. She’s never had so much fun or felt so uninhibited, but just when everything seems so perfect, the man she left behind returns with some very old-fashioned ideas about rescuing her and taking her home to his own idea of wedded bliss.

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Mischief | All Romance Ebooks | Barnes & Noble

Excerpt:

The kiss was by far the dirtiest she’d ever shared. The taste of her body clung to his lips, while the scent of her arousal flooded the air. Although shirtless, Ric remained otherwise properly dressed. Kara reached for his belt buckle, only for him to grin and step back. Still the ridge of his erection showed clearly behind his fly.

‘I thought you wanted to know where those keys are.’

‘They’re not in your pants?’

‘No,’ he grinned. ‘But let’s see if you can find them before I get fully into yours.’ He led her over to the bureau, not even giving her a moment to straighten out her clothes and bent her over the polished surface so that her face lay just shy of the myriad of little drawers set into the top. ‘They’re definitely in one of those. Shall we see if you can find them before I make you come again?’

He already had a head start, for one hand immediately wedged between her thighs, where it confidently stroked against her still swollen clit. Kara gave a desperate whimper. She couldn’t concentrate while he did that. Nor did she really care to find the keys right now. She wasn’t about to sacrifice this for a face full of biting cold wind and a night in her car wondering what could have been.

Ric’s breath tickled her ear. So too did his hair. ‘Ready?’

‘No, wait. What does the winner get? You’re not exactly convincing me that I want these keys.’

‘Bedding rights. One time, wherever, whenever.’ His breath tickled as it whispered past her ear. ‘And I don’t make this offer every day. Go.’

Kara reached out and tugged open the first of the drawers. Her current position didn’t allow her to see inside, so she had to rely on touch — paperclips, another one of those LED torches he had so many of, but no keys. She yanked open the second drawer without closing the first, just as she heard the slid of his zipper. The crackle of a foil wrapper immediately followed.

Damn, she wanted to crane her head and look at him, in order to know what his cock was like. She liked visuals, though she was pretty sure he was going to feel damn nice. Ric stood so close behind that even if she did turn she wouldn’t have gained a glimpse of him. Hell, if she moved a millimetre they’d be as intimate as it was possible to get.

Kara’s mouth fell open in anticipation. The second drawer remained unexplored.

‘You’re not looking,’ he prompted, still stroking her clit. ‘That’s kind of cheating, you know.’ The blunt tip of his thumb found her entrance and dipped inside a way. It came out wet. ‘Anywhere, anytime, anyhow, no matter who’s watching.’

Maybe, just maybe, she ought to try a little harder to win. God knows what sort of kinky hell he’d subject her to. Only she was way too interested in feeling his cock to focus on finding keys. Kara feigned interest in the drawer contents, waving her hand about inside the little wooden trough, but her attention remained focused on the nudge of his cock up against her sheath.

‘You’re very wet,’ he observed. The smack of his lips followed the comment, and she knew he lifted his thumb in order to taste her.

Suddenly, it was all too much. Kara pushed back against him, unable to keep still with him poised so close any longer. Instead of sliding home, his cock pressed hard against her bottom instead, almost testing her untried hole.

‘Steady now. Eagerness will get you everywhere.’ He lined them up properly then thrust inside her in one big push that knocked all the air from her lungs. When he drew back, it released her cry.

Sex oughtn’t to be allowed to feel this good, especially not the first time with someone. It made her behave like a perfect slut. She jiggled against him, bracing her palms flat against the desk. He seemed to fill her up right to her hopelessly sensitized clit. They rocked together hard, so that their joy was punctuated by the thump of the desk hitting the wall.

Kara’s pants turned to squeals. She couldn’t hold it in. She couldn’t keep how good it felt locked inside of her.

Ric’s teeth grazed the side of neck and the top of her shoulder, which only encouraged her to push back harder. She strained against him, loving the sensation of her back brushing against his tight abs and his long hair tickling her skin.

They were both coasting close to the edge when he slowed everything down and turned each thrust into a crazily sweet figure of eight. Her cunt clenched around him, desiring the hardness of their previous pace, yet loving how this slower roll seemed to sensitize the whole of her body. For a while they danced in perfect harmony. The graze of Ric’s teeth became the sort of deep kiss that marked. He sucked her up into him, possessing her fully. Then just as her body had begun to sink into a liquid and languid state, he switched things up again.

Ric fucked like a perfect mad man, his blond hair whipping them both while he filled her with perfect precision. Her heart rate doubled and heat filled Kara’s cheeks. The buzz in her clit started out small, just a little fizz that grew until it encompassed the whole of her pussy. She drowned in its power, gasping for air. For the first time ever, her second climax was so much greater than the first. It rolled on and on, pulsing inside of her and making her muscles clench tight around the glory of his cock. Normally, if a lover managed to wring a second orgasm from her, it was quiet, paltry little tremor. This was huge. It crackled through her synapses and almost knocked her out.

Boneless and dazed Kara peeled herself up off the surface of the desk. ‘Wow!’ Even that monosyllable didn’t convey the magnificence of the act. She leaned back against Ric in order to seek his kiss. His arms wrapped tight around her as they supped upon one another’s breath. He stayed inside of her too, his cock rigidly hard. It took a moment for her realize that he hadn’t come, that despite the mind-blowing peak he’d propelled her to, he hadn’t found satisfaction of his own. No wonder he lapped up her kisses like a man dying of thirst.

*****

 Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Madelynne’s hot historical erotic novella, Capturing Cora.

About Madelynne Ellis:

Madelynne Ellis is a multi-published British author of erotic romance. Her novels and short stories have been published by a variety of houses both in the UK and US, and have been translated into German, Spanish and Norwegian. She is best known for her Regency set novels for pioneering British erotica publisher Black Lace, but also enjoys writing contemporary and paranormal settings. Her aim is to deliver scorching, character-driven stories that enchant, torment and don’t shy from darker aspects of life.

Madelynne lives in the UK with her partner of 20 years, their two adorable children and a chocoholic rabbit. When not writing she enjoys live role-playing, solving puzzles and hanging out online.

Madelynne loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her by email at madelynne at madelynne-ellis dot com or find her at one of these hang outs.

Twitter

Blog

Website

Facebook

Goodreads