Tag Archives: new release

Mustang Maddy – Revved & Ready Book 2 by Kacey Hammell

Mustang MaddyContemporary Erotica

ISBN 9780987799326

Grey Burkhardt is an expert at a lot of things—including keeping his feelings for Madison Evans in check. Sexy as sin and sweet as honey, she’s always revved his engine. But she’s his next door neighbor. No way is he going to muck up friendly neighborhood relations just to satisfy the heat simmering between them.

Madison has never seen anything sexier than the tricked out GT Mustang Grey has been keeping under wraps—other than the glint of danger and intrigue in his eyes when he offers her a ride. Now is her chance to act on the deep passion she’s harbored for him because this might be her one shot at taking control.

 

Book Buying Links:

Kacey Hammell | Amazon UK | Amazon US | Amazon CA | Smashwords


Coming soon to:

aRe
B&N
Kobo

 

Kacey HammellAnd get book One – 69 Mustang FREE until September 30th at all book outlets. Buy Links HERE.

 

Excerpt ©Kacey Hammell, 2014:

He cleared his throat and stepped closer. “You know, Mads, watching you fawn over my car, stroking her, makes me hot. I can hear every breath you take and sigh you release over her. It’s sexy as hell.”

She stood still as he moved in even closer, wedging her between him and the rear window. Thoughts of getting in the car fled as her heart raced. The hunger in his eyes called to her, her body craved it, wanted it.

She couldn’t deny herself any longer.

Leaning back against the car, she smirked. “I like appreciating great things. And to be honest, Mustangs turn me on. A lot.”

They said confession was good for the soul. Maddy was certain she’d just cleansed hers and there would be no going back.

Her palms flattened on the doors behind her. “The feel of the metal, and the pulse that emanates off the surface even when they’re not running…mmm. Everything in me comes alive whenever I see these muscled beauties.”

Grey lifted his arms, bracketing her in. “You’re one of the hottest chicks I know. No other woman has ever turned me on so much by talking about cars. You know, I’ve watched you—in a non-stalker way of course—for a long time now.”

Thrilled, Maddy’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you going to do with me now that I’m here?” What possessed her to ask, she had no idea, but the need and the desire in his gaze, aimed at her, called to all her sexual instincts. There was no way she could walk away now.

He aligned his body with hers, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at her. She surrendered to the headiness of this man, the pulsing rhythms of her body and waited with bated breath.

“I’m going to taste you…” Grey tilted his head to the side. All she could do was stare at his lips as they came closer. “…in any sexy spot you’ll let me.”

His mouth met hers. Maddy opened to him like a budding flower. Claimed. Possessed. Riotous emotions swirled through her and her mind cleared. This. This type of hunger and excitement she’d been missing with any other man was all she desired. Intense, seductive and thirst to let go and give into the headiest of sexuality.

He eased his tongue into her mouth, gliding along hers, exploring, tasting… Maddy never wanted to break free.

A low moan escaped the back of her throat. She encircled his shoulders, arms pulling him in to stand between her legs.

His hardness behind his shorts pressed against her. Gasping, she broke free from his mouth and laid her head back on the car. He kissed his way down her throat. Her pussy throbbed. Her juices flooded her panties. A shiver raced down her spine. Her fingers clenching against his pecs, Maddy trembled as the exquisite tortures of his lips worshipped her, and his hips rolled his cock against her. His teeth grazed her skin along her shoulders. She widened her stance. Grey moaned as he pushed into her, harder and more aggressive.

Laying his forehead on her shoulder, he breathed deep. “Damn you’re intoxicating.”

Maddy palmed the back of his head, holding him in place as his hips still moved and let sweet agony build. The friction of her panties and shorts against her clit were spectacular. But she needed more.

Caught On Camera by Destiny Blaine

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

Kristina Lloyd Undone Large

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

Kristina’s Kinky Cocktail Party: Celebrating Kristina Lloyd’s New Novel, UNDONE

Kristina Lloyd Blog Tour buttonunnamedI’m very excited to help Kristina Lloyd celebrate the release of her sizzling new novel, Undone. She’s invited me to the gala celebration. Along with lots of fab authors and lots of naughty, inebriating cocktails and excerpts there’ll be plenty of yummy giveaways as well!

AND the fun will continue through the entire month of September with Kristina’s fabulous Undone Blog Tour. If you want to follow her on that tour (and she will be stopping by here! ) Here’s where you’ll find her.  The Undone Blog Tour. 

Belly up to the bar and join the fun because it’s my turn to serve up the cocktails at Kristina Lloyd’s Kinky Cocktail Party, by naming my poison, so get ready for fizz and get ready for a bit of Latin dancing while I serve up Champagne Ritas along with an intoxicating dose of The Initiation of Ms Holly!

If you’re still standing when the drinking and the dancing are over, comment with your favourite cocktail for a chance to win a copy of my novella, Surrogates. Bottoms up!

 

 *****

Champagne Rita

A delicious recipe for Champange Rita, with tequila, limeade, triple sec and Champagne.

1 1/2 oz tequila
1 1/2 oz limeade
1 1/2 tsp triple sec
3 oz Champagne

Pour the tequila and triple sec into a cocktail shaker half-filled with ice cubes. Shake well. Strain into a champagne flute. Add limeade and champagne, stir briefly, and serve.

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You can join the party and sample other kinky cocktails, more filthy excerpts and more fun by going here – http://kristinalloyd.wordpress.com/2014/08/29/undone-blog-tour-launch-kinky-cocktails-and-digital-drinking/

*****

Blurb from The Initiation of Ms Holly

Book One in The Mount trilogy (Click here for: Book Two | Book Three)

Journalist, Rita Holly, never dreamed sex with the mysterious Edward in the dark of a malfunctioning train would lead to a blindfolded, champagne-drenched tango, a spanking by a butch waitress, and an offer of initiation into the exclusive mysteries of The Mount. Desperate to save her threatened job, she agrees, scheming secretly to write an inside exposé on the club that will make her career. But as she delves deeper into the intrigue of The Mount and the lives of its members, she soon discovers that her heart may have other plans.


Holly Final Cover ImageExcerpt from The Initiation of Ms Holly:

Edward’s hand slipped underneath the spaghetti straps to cup her breast and stroke her engorged areola. ‘Expensive dress?’

‘What?’ Intimidation knotted her stomach. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Not really.’ She could hear him filling the champagne flute. ‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ He lifted the glass to her lips. Just as the taste hit her tongue he pulled it away and she felt a cold wet splash over her left breast. She stifled a yelp, but not before his lips clamped down tight on her drenched nipple, and the friction of tongue and teeth on wet silk caused delicious shock waves down her belly all the way to her cunt.

‘You know,’ he said between sucklings, ‘at the command of Louis 15th, the original champagne glass was said to have been shaped like the breasts of his mistress, Madame Pompadour. I can understand why. Once you’ve suckled champagne from a beautiful breast, champagne alone, no matter how expensive, isn’t nearly as nice.’

Another cold splash across both breasts and down her cleavage. She gasped and held him to her as he shoved down the spaghetti straps and freed her into his hungry mouth. ‘What if people are watching?’ she whispered.

‘Don’t worry. I know the owner.’

Another drizzle of fizz, but this time over her belly, dripping down icily against her mound. She squirmed and ground her hips against the seat.

‘Open your legs for me,’ he whispered. ‘There’s one cup even more perfect than Louis’s design.’

She did as he asked, wriggling and lifting her butt, her pussy clenching in anticipation. In one fluid motion, he shoved the dress up over her hips and pulled her panties down and off over her shoes. She wasn’t sure how he had managed it, but he manoeuvred himself onto the floor beneath the table. Before she could figure it out, cold liquid bubbles tickled her clit and dribbled down between her labia chased by the white hot lavishings of his tongue.

She moaned and everything inside her tensed with the surprise of it, the tantalizing, bracing shock of it, just before everything went molten and she slid down in the booth until her bottom was practically off the seat.

His hands kneaded her buttocks, thumbs spreading her folds open to the explorations of his mouth. ‘The perfect cocktail,’ he spoke against her pussy. ‘Champagne and lady juices.’

The music changed to a Latin beat, and behind her blindfolded eyes, bright flashes of colour burst and exploded like fireworks as she rocked and thrust, concentrating only on his mouth and her pussy and the sweet tart scent of champagne bubbling against her slit. She was so focused that she nearly slid off the seat when he pulled away, and she heard scrambling under the table.

‘What’s wrong,’ she gasped. ‘What is it?’ ‘Excuse me, but might I have this dance?’

The voice near her ear at the side of the booth startled her and she jumped. It wasn’t Edward’s!

‘I love Latin dancing, don’t you?’

‘What? Dance?’ She gasped. ‘Now’s not a good time. Who are you? Edward? What’s going on?’

There was the familiar whisper in her other ear. ‘Go with Alex, Rita. Trust me, now’s a very good time.’

Before she could protest further, she was half dragged, half tangoed on to the floor. ‘How can I dance,’ she panted, ‘when I can’t even see?’

There was a humid chuckle close to her nape. ‘What? You don’t trust me to lead you?’

‘Not when my brain’s in my knickers.’ She struggled to catch her breath.

‘You’re not wearing any.’ The words were pressed to her ear in a warm kiss, followed by a sigh of resignation. ‘Oh all right.’ He pulled off the blindfold, and she found herself squinting at a lovely face in a halo of blond curls. A well- muscled man with a dancer’s body pulled her into an intimate tango. She was so close that she could feel the bulge in his trousers and wondered how the hell he could still move so gracefully. Heat flared with the driving pulse of the percussion, and his groin rubbed deliciously against her mound with each shifting beat of the music.

Without warning, he lowered her into a heart-pounding dip, and she yelped out loud, causing several dancers to glance in their direction. As he pulled her back to him, she spoke between clenched teeth. ‘Is this some kind of a joke, Edward gets me all excited then hands me over to someone else? That is if I was with Edward at all. How the hell would I know?’

‘Shshshs.’ Alex covered her mouth with a kiss. ‘Relax. Of course you were with Edward, still are. I’m his gift to you. When you’re done with me, I’ll take you back to him.’

‘When I’m done with you? What’s that suppose to 16

mean?’ She shot a glance into the darkness at the edge of the dance floor, but to no avail. She was blindfolded when Alex led her from the table. She had no idea where Edward was.

Holly cover FINAL9781907761270_FCOnce more he lowered her into a dip, this time pulling her up slowly, lingering to kiss the mounds of her breasts, nipples chilled stiff and clearly visible through the champagne soak fabric. Her pussy clenched with a wave of sensation that reminded her just how close to orgasm she had been when Edward had handed her over. ‘What do you mean you’re his gift to me?’

‘Edward’s a bit of a voyeur, and he wants to watch your pleasure.’

‘What? And have a wank? Oh that’s just great.’

Alex chuckled, and she realised his hand was working its way beneath the slit of her dress. ‘Hardly. Edward isn’t exactly what I’d call a wanker. Trust me, he’ll be more than ready for you when you’re finished with me.’ He shoved the hem of her dress aside until her bare pussy pressed against the bulge in his trousers, then he flicked a finger into her pout so quickly she wouldn’t have been sure it happened if not for the rush of pleasure and wetness. He pulled her still closer. ‘You need to come. Use me. That’s what I’m here for.’

‘I thought that was Edward’s job.’

Another chuckle. ‘I promise you, Edward won’t disappoint.’ He thrust hard against her. ‘Do you want me?’

‘What do you think? You just fingered my cunt.’

Another dip, this time slow and serpentine. With a deft hand, he freed his cock. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but there, in plain sight with moves that would have made a magician jealous, he slipped his substantial erection between her legs, then he lifted her onto him. With one thrust and a grunt she was completely penetrated. All she could do was wrap her legs around him and hang on, marvelling that with each thrust he never missed a beat of

the music. In fact, he continued the dance as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening, hands cupped supportively under her arse, dancing amid the few other couples who moved beneath the sparkle of the disco ball. Were they blind? Could they not see that Alex was slinking around the dance floor, hammering her cunt with each pulse of the tango?

And she didn’t care. It was totally insane, but she didn’t care. They were thrusting and swaying with the music, and somewhere in the darkness Edward was watching with his cock aching to be inside her. She wondered if he were touching himself. She wondered if his balls felt close to bursting. She certainly hoped so. She wondered if, when she returned, he would take her right there in the booth, her pussy still wet from her erotic dance with Alex. She imagined her fizz-soaked cunt swallowing up Edward’s penis in hungry gulps.

That did it. Suddenly it was as though champagne had been uncorked inside her. She gave a startled little cry as her orgasm exploded up through her, rocking her from head to toe with its impact.

When the aftershocks subsided and the music stopped, Alex danced her off the floor to a discreet nook near a linen cabinet and helped her dismount. Then with a heavy grunt, he spurted his wad into a handkerchief he’d extricated from his pocket. When he finished wiping his cock, he said, ‘It wouldn’t be polite for me to come inside you when you’re with Edward.’

The sense of excitement she felt at Alex’s words was visceral. And surprising. She’d just had totally hot sex with him, and in truth she wouldn’t know Edward if she saw him, but still it was Edward she wanted. Maybe their time together on the train had somehow bonded them. It was certainly a relief knowing that he hadn’t pawned her off, even on such a good lover as Alex.

While Alex tucked himself in, Rita had time for a quick glance around the room. Her eyes now accustomed to the light, she could see only one booth occupied by a single diner. And though that booth was in shadow, she could still make out the shape of a tall muscular man seated, watching.

‘There, now I’m presentable again.’ Alex held the blindfold up for Rita. ‘I’ll just slip this on and take you back to Edward.’

Kristina Lloyd undone_kristina_lloyd-300Pre-Order UNDONE by Kristina Lloyd Here:

Published September 11th, 2014
Pre-order with Amazon

Amazon UK paperback :: Amazon UK Kindle
Amazon US Kindle
Amazon CA Paperback :: Amazon CA Kindle

 

New Release: Smut by the Sea Volume 3, edited by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) and Victoria Blisse (@victoriablisse) #erotica #anthology #romance

Smut by the Sea Vol 3Blurb:

Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From exotic locales such as Croatia and Australia to the coastal caves of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 3 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Kinky role play, gorgeous artists, bobbing boats, sexy cougars, hunky hermits and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-by-the-sea-volume-3/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22703850-smut-by-the-sea-volume-3

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Excerpt from Hermit by Lucy Felthouse:

Karen grimaced as she drove the car onto the Dungeness estate. She knew for a fact she was on said estate because she’d just passed a sign proudly proclaiming her whereabouts. Personally, she couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. It looked pretty damn grim, in her opinion.

She sighed. As soon as she’d been handed the assignment, she’d known it would be a bitch. The blog she wrote for, Universe of Quirk, published just that—anything quirky. This meant there was a huge amount of scope for articles for the site. Mostly it was about weird phenomena, picking out oddities in popular culture and freaky findings the world over. For the most part, Karen loved her job—she had a genuine interest in the bizarre and unusual, and a good nose for sniffing things out to write about. She didn’t often have to leave the comfort of her office chair to write her articles—the Internet gave her all the information she needed, at the touch of a button. And what she couldn’t gather via Google, she could find out by interviewing people. By email, phone or Skype.

But not Tom Pettyfer, it seemed. According to her notes, he was an ex-army dude who’d had some kind of meltdown, quit his job and moved to a shack in Dungeness. He was now a total hermit—hence the in-person interview. He had no telephone, let alone a computer or Internet access. Her boss had had to arrange the appointment by snail mail, for heaven’s sake! As such, there’d been no way of double checking he was still available. Karen hoped like hell he hadn’t suddenly decided to go out—leaving her with a long journey home with no article in the bag.

Continuing along the poorly-surfaced road, Karen slowed the car to a crawl—both to avoid damaging the rental vehicle and also to squint at the shacks she passed to find the one she was looking for. They all seemed to have names rather than numbers, which made the signs easier to read, but it was more difficult to find the right one, as there was no rhyme or reason to the layout. For all she knew, Tom Pettyfer’s shack could be the very last one on the lane.

Soon, she discovered that was not the case. Tom’s home was a strange-looking wooden building that wasn’t near to anything else. It sat alone in the shingle, a sparse garden-type thing surrounding it, and an ancient rusty car on the driveway. She supposed there was no point buying and running an expensive car if one didn’t go anywhere. Perhaps he just used it for errands and grocery shopping. He couldn’t shop online—so how else would he buy food and other necessities? How did he pay for those things if he never went out, didn’t have a job?

She reminded herself that this was the whole point of the trip. To meet this hermit and ask him questions, to find out why he lived the way he did, what made him tick. What had happened to make him choose this lifestyle?

Her car wouldn’t fit on the driveway behind his so she parked at the side of the road in front of his house, figuring traffic wouldn’t exactly be a problem anyway. Looking around, she was struck by the eeriness of the place, the loneliness. Add that to the ugly nuclear power station perched at the edge of the estate and you had a recipe for… well, hell on earth, really. And they called Kent the garden of England.

Pulling herself back to the task at hand, Karen grabbed her stuff then stepped out of the car, locking it and walking up to Tom’s shack. The sooner she got the interview over with, the sooner she could leave this desolate dump. Grey clouds overhead threatened rain, and she could hear the sea crashing mercilessly against the shore, the saltiness in the air filling her nostrils and coating her tongue. None of those things endeared her to the place.

Reaching the front door of Tom’s shack, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out, then straightened her stance. She was so used to working from home, lounging in her office chair as she researched and typed away, that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to meet someone on a professional basis. It was imperative to get this guy to trust her, so he’d open up and give her some good stuff for her piece. The project was a pain in the arse, but she couldn’t grumble too much—the site’s editor had made it worth her while financially.

Satisfied her body language was business-like yet friendly; Karen knocked on the door, and waited.

A couple of seconds later, the door opened. “Hi,” said a guy about her age, “you must be Karen, from Universe of Quirk.”

“Uh, yeah… that’s me.” So much for being professional. She hadn’t been expecting a god to answer the door. It had totally thrown her. “I mean, sorry, yes. I’m Karen Wilson. Lovely to meet you.” Holding out her hand, she tried not to swoon as the hottie reached out and gripped it, his own hand warm and dry, the shake firm but not crushing. Her belly did flip flops.

*****

Editor Bios:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

 

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut Events, get togethers for authors and writers alike. Check out http://smutters.co.uk for the details of the next smut gathering.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB’s resident “Naked Chef”) and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse  and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse  and if you want to know more check out her website http://victoriablisse.co.uk