Tag Archives: new release

Tamsin Flowers Talks about The Crimson Bond

Hi,Studio shot

I hope you’ve all survived Christmas without sinking in a sea of brandy butter or being overwhelmed by a… what is the collective noun for a Brussels sprout? And I particularly hope that Santa brought you everything you wanted – world peace, goodwill among all men and a brand new e-reader that you can fill up with smut!

And, coincidentally, talking of which, I’ve brought a short excerpt from my latest release, The Crimson Bond. It’s a sizzling, red-hot vampire tale, an eternal triangle of love, lust and passion between three wayward vampires who can’t get enough of each other… In other words, just the ticket if you’ve had enough of seasonal cheer, turkey and pantomimes!

Enjoy!

Tamsin

xxxx

PS And thanks for having me, KD!

Blurb

Willow Jackson develops an unhealthy obsession Etienne Corbeau; little does she realise he’s a suave, sophisticated vampire.  After appearing in her dreams, Willow is astounded to find Etienne in her room for real and even more shocked when, in the throes of a passion she can’t resist, he sinks his teeth into her neck and drinks her blood.

But Etienne is greedy and to save Willow’s life, his wife Elouise forces her to drink vampire blood.  From this moment Willow is herself a vampire, forming an unbreakable bond with Elouise which forces her to choose between the beautiful new vampire and her husband of two centuries.

As Willow learns to tame her bloodlust and vampire sex carries her to new heights of physical pleasure, Elouise is snatched away from her.  The battle lines are drawn: now she and Etienne will fight for possession of the woman they both love…

Excerpt

“Don’t be angry with me, Willow,” he said. “Your effect on me is so strong I can’t control myself when you’re around.”

That much was true and it was a feeling Willow had come to understand.

“Even now? Now I’m a vampire like you?”

Etienne brushed a hand down her jaw with unexpected tenderness.

“More now, Willow.”

His body was close to hers and as he looked down at her face his warm breath tickled her cheeks. She breathed in deeply to catch the scent of him and it didn’t disappoint. Low in her gut, muscles tightened and a shiver ran through her.

“Your bond with Elouise doesn’t stop you…” Her voice was ragged and she didn’t know how to finish what she intended to say.

“A vampire’s bond is mental, rather than physical.” His voice was low, practically a whisper.

She felt his hand on her breast, warm through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. Her knees turned to water and as she slumped against him, he lowered her gently to the ground. She was weak with lust, so overpowering she could hardly breath. But it was different from the bloodlust she felt when she was close to the girls on the ranch. This feeling, burning in her loins and spreading through her body, was a pure, sexual need—the full expression of the mere glimmers she’d experienced when she was still human and she’d lusted after him from afar.

“Etienne…”

They were both kneeling, facing each other. He pulled at the bottom of her T-shirt and she obligingly lifted her arms as he pulled it up over her head. His every touch felt like a burn on her skin but it was a sensation she couldn’t get enough of. As soon as her arms were free of the shirt, she tore at his, not caring as the buttons flew off and landed in the long grass.

She pressed her body against his, her softness against the firm, rough surface of his chest. She gasped and once again their mouths locked together. He tasted sweet and she felt a compulsion to make herself one with him, her tongue thrusting deep as her body pressed harder still against the length of his. His hands raked through her hair and drew her head back, angling her mouth all the better against his. Then she felt a hand dropping down her back and sliding under the waistband of her jeans. The sensation of his firm hand sliding down her cheek, one finger straying along the crack between her buttocks, elicited a low groan, deep in her throat, and she raked her nails down his back.

With a cry that might have been pain or pleasure or both, Etienne pushed her roughly back onto the grass. His hands scrabbled desperately at the fastening of her jeans and, seconds, later he ripped them down her thighs, scraping them over her knees and off. He buried his face between her legs, taking deep, rasping breaths of her scent, and then she felt his fingers prying their way into her willing sex. Her lips slipped open with a rush of hot juice and Etienne grunted as first his fingers explored her deeply and then his tongue found its way inside her.

Willow writhed beneath his touch but fought the sensations threatening to sweep her away. She longed to feel all of him insider her, so she reached down to his shoulders to pull him up.

He shook off her grasp and lifted his head to look at her.

“You can have both,” he whispered, his fingers still drumming a magical rhythm deep inside her.

“I want everything,” she said, returning his gaze.

“It’s all yours.”

Buy links

You’ll find The Crimson Bond at Secret Cravings, Amazon US, Amazon UK, All Romance and Smashwords.

Tamsin Flowers

Tamsin Flowers 27 DecTamsin Flowers loves to write light-hearted erotica, often with a twist in the tail/tale and a sense of fun.  In the words of one reviewer, ‘Ms Flowers has a way of describing sexual tension that forces itself upon your own body.’ Her stories have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies , for publishers including Cleis Press, Xcite Books and Go Deeper Press. She has now graduated to novellas with the intention of penning her magnum opus in the very near future.  In the meantime, like most erotica writers, she finds herself working on at least ten stories at once: while she figures out whose leg belongs in which story, you can find out more about her at Tamsin’s Superotica or Tamsin Flowers.

 

Demelza Hart Talks About Having Your Cake and Eating It

It seems only a few weeks ago I was over here talking about Spontaneous, the first book in my trilogy, Suited to You. Hang on. It was only a few weeks ago! And here I am again, thanks to the wonderfully welcoming KD, to tell you about the second, which has just come out.

In Exposed, Tara continues her sexual exploration, guided by the skilful hands of The Suit, aka Patrick Lark.

Demelza Hart 4Exposed asks the question: can a girl have her cake and eat it? Or, more significantly, can she allow herself to have her cake and eat it? Perhaps it’s a particularly British trait, but sometimes us women feel guilty or become disbelieving if things seem to be going too well. This is Tara’s problem in Exposed.

The sex is great, her relationship is great, but then, like too many modern women, she starts to think too much: This is too good. That’s not right. It can’t be right. Something is bound to go wrong. And rather than accept and enjoy it, it confuses her.

How many times have we done that in our own lives? If things are going swimmingly, we think there must be a catch.

The Suit seems to be the perfect man. Or is he? Tara can’t believe it, and as he won’t just talk to her and open to her – bloody men! – it leads her to emotional confusion and doubt.

But, through it all, she can’t let go of the sex. Great sex. Exhibitionist, risky, exposed, daring, incredible sex. Can she give it up? Should she?

Here’s a little snifter for you. Here, The Suit (Patrick) has pulled Tara away from an artist in a gallery just as the man thought he was going to get some action.

Excerpt:

Patrick held my hand tight and walked me fast through the museum. We started practically to jog.

The Suit was grinning broadly and I giggled as we rushed faster and faster. We were soon outside and, breathlessly, I turned to him and crossed my arms, exaggerating my disapproval. ‘You are a wicked, wicked man.’

‘For you, anything.’ He smirked before kissing me.

‘That poor, lovely guy. That was cruel.’

‘Didn’t you say I had to be a cruel bastard to run a corporation?’

‘Yes, but hiring and firing people is one thing, leaving someone abandoned with a massive boner is something else. And anyway …’

‘What?’

I pouted. ‘I was rather looking forward to tasting him.’

He stepped into me, cupping my face with his hand and searching my eyes. ‘What? Are you thirsty?’

‘Always.’ God, I wanted cock and come. The craving was insistent.

The corner of Patrick’s mouth turned up. He hailed a cab. We climbed in quickly.

He’d unzipped his trousers as soon as the door shut. I didn’t think. As the rigid shaft lurched out, I dropped my head to it.

‘Shit, dude!’ cried the driver. ‘You can’t fuckin’ do that in here!’

‘We won’t tell if you don’t,’ replied The Suit, his words forced out as I engulfed his cock in wet heat.

‘Jesus … how the fuck am I supposed to concentrate on the traffic with that goin’ on?’ moaned the driver, a young dreadlocked guy with a large tiger tattoo on his right arm. ‘I wanna look!’

I barely heard him. I sucked and sucked, sinking right down on the glorious hard prick so that it edged into my throat and made my eyes water. It wasn’t the first time I’d sucked The Suit off in the back of a car.

‘Taste it, Tara, taste it all.’

I wasn’t in the mood to go slow. He wanted his quick come and so did I. I wanted that taste. My fingers curled around the shaft and pumped, and I pulled my cheeks in tight while my tongue enthralled his tip.

‘Man, you got yourself a sweet little cocksucker there,’ declared the driver, managing to keep one eye on us and one on the road. ‘Ma-an! Ain’t every day I’m treated to somethin’ like this.’

Lucky Patrick, lucky Tara and lucky cabbie.

Exposed – Book Two of the Suited to You trilogy is out now from Xcite Books.

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Thank you so much to KD for having me over today.

Demelza Hart can be found on Facebook, Twitter, and at her blog. Do come over and say hello. Sated, the final part of the trilogy, is out in the new year.

A.M. Hartnett Asks the Burning Question: Why Write Erotica?

It’s my pleasure to welcome A.M. Hartnett to A Hopeful Romantic to ask that burning question, why write erotica? And to talk about her novella, Here for a Good Time.

It always give me a chuckle when I see writing blogs tackling the big erotica debate. Not how to write erotica or how to write great sex scenes, but simply whether or not to write erotica at all. Depending on the blog’s audience, it either devolves into an orgy of clutching pearls or high-brow snobbery about those books. Of course, the arrival of The Book That Shall Not Be Named and its sisters has given birth to countless (and, in my opinion, pointless) articles about why women are reading these types of books and why women are writing them.

AM HarnetIf you were to ask me point blank why I write erotica, I’d be completely stumped. Why erotica specifically? I dunno. Somewhere along the way I just gravitated towards the smuttier side of things. Any genre I attempted ended up with explicit sex. Coming of age drama set in the 1920s? Threesome. Small town horror? Ghost sex. Cat and mouse game between a crime boss and a retired policewoman? Yeeeep, rough sex in the attic.

When I finished university and decided to dabble in writing, I discovered the market for erotica. After that, there was never any question as to what I was going to write. So needless to say when I started selling stories in 2006 and found out I was actually good at it, it was a bit of a relief, because it was pretty clear I couldn’t write anything else without filthy sex.

That’s not to say all the rules of storytelling go out the window when things get wet and dirty on paper. You still need to know how to write balanced scenes, even if the end result is an orgasm. You still need believable dialogue. You still need to set the mood. In other words, don’t believe the articles that tell you that you can make a quick buck writing erotica — you still need to know how to write and tell a story.

I tried explaining this to Arts Guy. AG is an online date I once had. We had similar backgrounds — degrees in English and love of books that spawned the need to write. He had seemed thrilled when he discovered I was a published writer, then snorted when he found out what I wrote. AG could come down on my smut all he wanted, but at the end of the day I could walk into my local bookstore and find a book that had my name in it, while he could go home and moan about how the university press wouldn’t recognize him as the next Robertson Davies and publish his angst-ridden shorts all because what he thought storytelling should be.

I may not be able to tell you why I write erotica, but I’m glad that’s the pins and needles path that sprang up in front of me. It’s fun, I’m good at it, and I like to think I don’t waste a reader’s time when they finish something I’ve written. My latest release is Here For A Good Time from Xcite Books. I love the chemistry between my characters Alexis and Chris, and I had a ball writing about the things they got up to when no one was looking. If I decided way back when that I was too good to write erotica, I would have missed out on a lot.

Here for a Good Time Blurb

When Alexis booked her work retreat at The Deveaux, the most she had to look forward to was a bit of spa time on the company dime, but flashy salesman Chris Kendrick has an even better suggestion. For years they’ve had a hot and cold working relationship with a bit of flirting mixed in, and now is the perfect time to get that spark out of their systems.

Three days hopping in and out of beds (and other convenient places) shows Alexis that Kendrick’s smooth demeanour is more than just talk, and that aromatherapy and soft-tissue massages have nothing on Kendrick’s firm hand.

Here for a Good Time Excerpt

‘Excited?’ he asked softly. His tie whisked out of his collar with a low hiss.

‘Unbelievably.’

‘Give me your hands.’

Once more she did as he asked, and nothing in her life to that point had turned her on more than watching him bind her wrists with his tie.

He studied her as he tightened the knot, his brow crooked. ‘You ever been done like this?’

‘A time or two,’ she admitted in a puff of air. Three times to be exact, but she couldn’t recall being this hot the last time she put herself at the mercy of a lover.

‘Colour me surprised.’ He made a loop at the end, and then guided her arms up and hooked her.

‘After the way I pounded you this morning, I figured you liked a bit of rough stuff.’

Standing so close, his every movement made his clothes rustle against her, teasing her nipples into hard peaks while he unzipped himself. The moment she looked down, he caught her under the chin.

‘Eyes forward.’

The tip of his cock, slick with precome, brushed her belly. Alexis itched to get her hands on him, to wrap her lips around that thickness and suck him until he gave her something to swallow, but she’d allowed herself to be putty in his hands and there was nothing to do but relent.

It was easy to do. She could practically feel the hum of energy in her blood as he ran his hands all over her body. His gaze never left hers. It was as though he was daring her to give him a reason to rebuke her.

Buy Here for a Good Time here:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Find A.M. Hartnett Here

Web: www.amhartnett.com 

Twitter: www.twitter.com/amhartnett

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annemarie.hartnett

About A.M. Hartnett

A.M. Hartnett began writing in 2006 and has published more than thirty short stories. Her work has appeared in more than a dozen anthologies, including Cleis Press’s Sudden Sex: 69 Sultry Short Stories (Ed. Alison Tyler), and The Big Book of Orgasm: 69 Sexy Stories (Ed. Rachel Kramer Bussel). She has also written three novellas and a novel as Annemarie Hartnett. For more information on her publications, please visit www.amhartnett.com 

 

Her Secret Ingredient – M/F/M BDSM Erotic Romance from Lisabet Sarai

Available 15 November from Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/her-secret-ingredient

Buy from Totally Bound and get a sizzling extra chapter, available only to TB VIP readers!

Her Secret IngredientHer Secret Ingredient by Lisabet Sarai

Blurb

Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion

When the Tastes of France food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately, she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is sceptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can’t help being attracted to him.

Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emily’s show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne’s consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he can’t do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting M. Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career forever – until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.

 

X-Rated Excerpt

“Even our Monsieur le Chef can be swayed by great food. The desserts – oh, I’ve just got to try one of these…”

“No! Harry…”

Before I could stop him, though, he’d nipped a cream puff off the pile and popped it into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he chewed and swallowed.

“Unbelievable! Give me another…”

“Please, no…!” I grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. He’d already devoured a second choux.  “Those are supposed to be for Etienne…”

“Come on, you’ve made at least two dozen. He won’t miss one or two.”  Harry made as if to reach for a third puff. I hung on, trying to restrain him, but he was far stronger than I. Under that dorky clothing, I felt his muscles tense and shift.

He halted, his fingers inches away from its target, as if suddenly aware of my touch.  Turning away from the tower of pastries, he gazed down at me. Behind his glasses, his mocha-coloured eyes gleamed with powerful purpose.

“Harry?” My stomach did a somersault. My cheeks felt as though they’d just come out of the oven. Meanwhile he held me in that fierce, all-consuming stare.

My right hand still gripped his left arm, near the shoulder. He reached out to rest his on my shoulder, as if we were about to dance. “You know, I actually see something a lot sweeter right here.” He slid his palm down my back and pulled me to his chest with a decisiveness that sent my pulse into overdrive. When he leaned in close, I smelled the almonds on his breath.

“Harry…I don’t think…”

“Shh!” He enforced this directive by fastening his mouth on mine in an energetic kiss.

He tasted, unsurprisingly, of sugar and cream. His firm lips moulded to mine while his tongue teased at the seam, coaxing me to open. I shouldn’t have given in, but I honestly couldn’t help it. He might look like a bit of nerd, but this guy really knew what he was doing. Wet, but not sloppy – forceful, but not brutal – alternating between deep penetration and playful flickering – he kissed with consummate sensuality. All I wanted was to swoon in his arms, to let him take me over.  He seemed eager to oblige.

The hand on my back wandered down to cup my ass and pull my pelvis against his. I gasped at the size and rigidity of the lump pressed against my pubis. My nipples snapped into aching knots and moisture flooded my already damp panties. He laced the fingers of his other hand through my hair, using them to control the position of my head as he drank his fill of me.

His mouth slipped away from mine to nuzzle below my ear, somehow finding the precise spot that’s directly connected to my clit.  Meanwhile he groped my breasts, squeezing hard – harder than I usually like, but now I actually wanted more.

Apparently he did, too. He tugged at my blouse, trying to pull it out from the waistband of my skirt, and finally succeeding. The first graze of his fingertips along my naked skin sent a wave of arousal crashing through me.

“Wait – no – aah…oh…” My protests faltered as he deftly extricated one of my breasts and caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the taut node of flesh, twisted it, flicked it back and forth. I swear I felt him doing the same to my clit. At the same time, he caught my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it like a pup with a toy.

Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing – and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed  my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his gluts flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.

I’d never doubt my grandmother again.

 

Lisabet SaraiAbout Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com)

The Exhibition Blog Tour Celebrates the Release of the Final Installment of the Executive Decisions Trilogy

TE new coverI’m very excited to announce the blog tour for Grace Marshall’s erotic romantic thriller, The Exhibition! The third book of the Executive Decisions Trilogy is now available in eBook and in print, and it’s a sizzling, heart-stopping romp for the finish of the tale.  I’ll be visiting some very exciting blogs this week and being interviewed by some totally fabulous folks. I’ll be sharing intimate details of Stacie Emerson and Harris Walker, I’ll be sharing photos of their exquisite stomping ground in the gorgeous Northwest of the US, I’ll be talking about what makes a good baddie and, of course, I’ll be sharing little teasing excerpts.

I’m very excited that at last the entire Executive Decisions Trilogy is at last available.  Even for me, the story was a surprise romp right to the end, and I’m hoping you’ll join me on the tour and help me celebrate The Exhibition and the completion of this exciting, sexy trilogy.

To make sure you don’t miss out on any of the fun, here’s a list of dates and links to the places where I’ll be. Be sure to join me and catch all the latest news about The Exhibition, and the whole Executive Decisions Trilogy.

 

25th November http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/ Review
26th November http://www.Inthepagesofagoodbook.com Interview and review
27th November http://celiajanderson.co.uk Guest blog
28th November http://www.niceladiesnaughtybooks.com/ Guest blog and review
29th November http://rachelleighromance.blogspot.co.uk/ Interview

ExecDecisions Banner1

The Exhibition:

Successful NYC gallery owner, Stacie Emerson, is ex-fiancée to one Thorne brother and ex-wife to the other. Though the three have made peace, Ellison Thorne’s friend, wildlife photographer, Harris Walker, still doesn’t like her. When Stacie convinces Harris to exhibit his work for the opening of her new gallery she never intended to include him in her other more hazardous plans. But when those plans draw the attention of dangerous business tycoon, Terrance Jamison, Harris comes to her aid. In the shadow of a threat only Stacie understands, can she dare let Harris into her life and make room for love?

Excerpt:

Outside someone shouted, ‘Hastings, check the crappers.’

Before Harris knew what hit him, Stacie pulled him into the cubicle at the other end of the row and locked the door behind him talking in a fast whisper. ‘Sorry about this. Not very professional, I know, but I promised to do my best to keep us out of jail, and I’m thinking groping in the ladies’ room’s not what this raid’s all about.’ The words were barely out of her mouth before she launched herself at him lips first. Damn it; he wanted to be mad at her. They were about to go to jail, for fuck sake! But instead of giving her a piece of his mind, he kissed her right back, hard, and felt her yield and open, and his tongue was in heaven sparing with hers, tasting, testing, thrusting. He found himself hoping that the inevitable arrest would wait until after he got his fill of Stacie Emerson, and that could take a while. She felt way better than she had even in his fantasies, and when his badly-behaving hands moved down to cup her magnificent bottom and pull her closer, she returned the favour and gave his ass a good grope. As though that gave him permission to explore, he slid anxious fingers inside her trousers wriggling down past a miniscule thong to cup an impossibly soft, impossibly firm buttock that gave a muscular clench in his hand, forcing her hips forward until she couldn’t possibly miss the press of his appreciative hard-on straining his jeans to get closer to her.

In the hall the noise got louder and the door burst open.

She had just managed a good firm stroke to the front of his trousers that had his full attention and then some, when a heavy-handed knock on the door caused her to yelp, and he nearly fell back onto the commode.

‘All right, you two, tuck it in, and come on out.’

Reviews:

“I’ve loved these books by Grace Marshall – but this one is my favourite of the three. The storyline was incredibly gripping and I very much enjoyed the will-they-won’t-they love/hate relationship between Stacie and Harris…if you enjoy a hot romantic thriller with some amusing moments thrown in, then you should definitely check out this book.” Erotica For All 

Available from:

eBook:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Print:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
Powell’s
The Book Depository
Waterstones