Tag Archives: new release

The Fugitive’s Sexy Brother by Annabeth Leong

The Fugitive’s Sexy BrotherBlurb:

Emily Boysen is sick of low-level bounty hunting jobs that don’t pay her rent, and sick to death of her ex-boyfriend taking credit for her work. Ready to claim her due, she takes on the quarry of a lifetime, the notorious Fernando Bonavita. But instead of the fugitive, she captures his sexy younger brother, Javier.

Javier Bonavita never wanted to know the truth about his older brother’s activities, instead protecting him out of loyalty. When he uses his hacking skills to pose as Fernando, he never expects to uncover crimes he can’t stomach. Beautiful Emily has no idea how glad he is to be in her custody—as long as he’s her prisoner, he doesn’t have to face his brother.

Passion flares between Emily and Javier, and soon he’s putting the handcuffs on her. Suspicion grows along with their feelings, though. A sinister plot centers around Fernando, and untangling it will test their loyalties to the limit.

Buy Links:
All Romance
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt:

Javier’s smart phone buzzed in his pocket. He paused his video game and glanced at the screen. The vibration originated from the custom application he’d written to monitor the motion sensors he’d set up around the perimeter of his brother Fernando’s house. Returning his attention to his computer, Javier quit the game and pulled up a view of the exterior cameras.

A girl was crawling beneath Fernando’s hedge. Even with the cameras, Javier would never have seen her if the motion sensor hadn’t pinpointed her exact position. She held her body low, wore clothes that blended in perfectly with the hues of the yard’s greenery, and moved slowly enough that she wouldn’t attract the casual eye.

Game time.

Plans and strategies tumbled through Javier’s head, but he remained still for a moment, frozen by discomfort. No jilted lover Javier could imagine would act this way, approaching the house like a single-member SWAT team. He squinted at the grainy image of her. He supposed she was a woman, not a girl, but she was a slip of a thing. Her body seemed slight in comparison to the thick, tawny hair bound at the back of her head. Skin only a shade lighter than the hair peeked out of the camouflage clothes in a few places—Javier caught a glimpse of a light brown shoulder blade and the back of a thigh. He remained glued to the screen, fascinated by her strange grace. She didn’t seem like his brother’s type at all.

Javier cleared his throat, struggling again with suspicions he didn’t want to acknowledge. But what harm could it do to play along? That girl couldn’t hurt him, and more than anything he wanted to repay Fernando for all the years he’d looked out for his kid brother. It wouldn’t hurt to earn recognition as an adult in the process. Maybe if he could gain Fernando’s trust he’d be rewarded with true explanations instead of obvious fabrications like this one.

Javier glanced down at his clothes. He should really be dressed as Fernando, but hadn’t had the patience to wear suits when he didn’t have to. He frowned at the image on the screen. He’d locked all the doors and the ground-floor windows were sealed and made of shatter-resistant materials. He had a minute before he had to decide his next step with the girl.

He went to the closet, stripping off his T-shirt on the way and stepping out of his jeans. Fernando’s clothes hung a little loose on him—their bodies were close, but the tailored touches Fernando had added emphasized his thicker physique. Javier was slightly taller and slightly leaner. He found a pair of dark-gray pants that fell far enough down on the leg and looked okay in the mirror. Javier turned to the dress shirts and found himself confronted with a dizzying array of fits and colors. How did his brother deal with all this complication every morning? And why did he care so much?

Javier shook his head at himself and reached for the nearest one, only to freeze at the sound of Fernando’s upstairs bedroom window sliding open. Had the woman really climbed up here in a matter of minutes? She hadn’t been carrying any gear.

He shrugged on the shirt and stepped out of the closet, still buttoning it. She stood just inside the window, her stance wary and her eyes on the computer screen. Handcuffs and restraints swung from the belt loops of army-green short-shorts. Her gaze flicked toward him, her blue eyes large and bright against the sandy backdrop of her face. She wore no makeup, but a generous scattering of freckles added plenty of interesting color and shape to her features. A smile spread over Javier’s face before he could think the situation through.

The interloper scowled in response, producing a can of mace. “You think this is funny, Bonavita?”

Javier held up his hands quickly. He didn’t want to get sprayed. But he couldn’t back down completely or the game would be up before it had even begun. He imitated the cool confidence his brother always possessed. “You wanted to see me so badly you couldn’t knock?”

Her frown deepened. “You watched me approach the house on video monitors, and decided to…change your clothes?”

“Couldn’t let you think I didn’t care about our date.”

She glanced at the monitors and shook her head, her lips forming the word “stupid.” Javier cocked his head, but before he could ask she brandished the mace more fiercely. “Take whatever weapons you’ve got and put them on the floor.”

“What you see is what I’ve got.”

“Yeah, I’m going to believe that.”

Javier shrugged. “If you want to strip-search me, I won’t stop you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pig.”

“Then I guess we’re going to stand here all day.”

The woman sighed and set down the can of mace. Javier’s body relaxed, but before he had a chance to enjoy it he was on the floor, the woman on top of him. She couldn’t have weighed much, but she knew how to make her body heavy. Her legs wrapped his thighs in an intimate hold that kept him immobilized, and the blade of her forearm wedged under his chin threatened his windpipe.

Javier gasped from the shock of his back crashing to Fernando’s hardwood floor, but recovered as quickly as he could. “Beds are much more comfortable.”

“In your dreams, Bonavita.”

Moving with practiced confidence, she rolled Javier onto his side without relaxing the strength of her hold. She snapped a set of handcuffs around his wrists.

“Whoa, whoa. Baby, let’s talk about this.”

“Very funny. Like you don’t know why I’m here.” A light layer of sweat had appeared along her neck. She smelled wild and powerful, like leaves, salt and sun. Javier knew he should be more concerned about himself, but he couldn’t get his mind off the idea of her lying on top of him for an entirely different reason.

She returned Javier to his back, the position forcing his cuffed hands to dig in to his spine. He curled up to remove the pressure, but a sharply placed knee to his chest forced him back down and pinned him. “Woman, you are serious.”

“Are you just figuring that out?” Her hands slid inside his shirt. For one delicious moment, Javier’s eyelids fell shut and he shivered at her touch. She stopped moving and he opened his eyes slowly to confront her solemn stare. “You are enjoying this way too much,” she said.

If his hands had been free, Javier would have tried to enjoy it a lot more. He’d forgotten how it felt to roll around with a woman, forgotten the sensation of soft, warm flesh against his own. Sure, the situation clearly meant serious trouble for Fernando, but Fernando wasn’t here, was he? Javier felt wild and invincible. He grinned up at the woman. “How could I not? Look at you.”

She glared, but her cheeks turned rosy, bringing out a clearer view of her abundant freckles. “Wonderful. The first man to be stunned by my good looks happens to be the most dangerous quarry I’ve had in years.”

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking and excellent bass lines. She always keeps a new e-book loaded on her phone and a paperback stashed in her purse, but her eyes are still bigger than her stomach whenever she visits a bookseller. She blogs at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong . Watch for her next contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave, Get Laid.

Not the Leader of the Pack by Annabeth Leong

Not the Leader of the PackBlurb:

Rival alphas Juli Gunby and Neil Statham want to tear each other apart — but will they do it in battle or as mates?

When Juli Gunby left Missoula, Montana, she didn’t intend to come back. Not to her exacting alpha werewolf father, and certainly not to Neil Statham, the beta who rejected Juli’s girlish advances. Her father, as usual, has other ideas, using his dying breath to pass pack leadership to his daughter. Juli resolves to carry out her duty to her father and her pack, but the one man she wants on her side has made himself her enemy.

After years of loyal service to the pack, Neil expects to take over as alpha when his mentor dies. As good as it is to see Juli again, he knows he can’t trust her. After all, she abandoned both him and the pack years ago and never looked back. Neil determines to fight for his rightful position in the pack, even if that means going up against a woman who fills him with an overwhelming urge to mate every time she walks into the room.

Someone needs to lead, and the more Neil and Juli fight, the more they attract interference from those who would control the pack and destroy the ties between them.

Buy Links:

All Romance
Amazon
Amazon UK
Bookstrand
Breathless Press

Excerpt:

“Juli. We’re the only pack members who saw your father pass that ring of leadership to you.” He paused to allow the significance to sink in, the bar noise around them rising to fill his silence. “You have another life in Lewistown. You have a career. You’ve made it clear you’re not interested in this pack. We can say whatever we want about what took place in that room. He could have passed the ring to me as far as anyone else knows. No one would question that.”

He would have kept talking, except that Juli wrenched herself violently out of his grasp at that point. “Not interested in this pack? We can say whatever we want?” He heard her just fine over the music despite the new distance between them. In fact, he worried who else had heard her mention the pack. And who else had seen that furry paw she’d thrust into his face.

They both froze for a second, staring at her latest lapse of control.

“Damn it.” Juli’s curse came out more as a growl than as words.

“We need to get out of here,” Neil said. “You just focus on staying cool.” She knew better than to argue with him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out, leaving their beers behind. They could finish this conversation in his truck.

They ran for the truck like the rest of the world was on fire, and slammed the doors behind them once they got there. Juli writhed in her seat, gasping, her wolf form rippling just on the other side of her skin. Neil panted in response. He didn’t normally have trouble controlling his shift, but with her beside him, so close, too much of him wanted to meet her in a place of complete abandon. He wanted to run with her under the moon, fight her for supremacy until neither cared who wound up on top or on the bottom. Then, with one last vicious pounce, he wanted to surrender to the merging of their bodies. He swallowed hard.

Stats. He ran through the winning World Series teams for the last three decades. He tried to calculate his total career RBIs. The stream of data calmed Neil down. He started the car. “I’m going to drive us somewhere a little more private,” he told Juli. “Just in case.”

“Back to the hospital.”

“You’re in no shape—”

“Back to the hospital.” She showed fangs. Neil didn’t need that so soon after he’d regained his own control. He stopped arguing and pressed the gas. They’d go somewhere. He just needed to be driving so he had something to concentrate on besides the idea of Juli giving herself up to the beast. He needed a really good reason to remain in human form.

The truck’s cab filled with her labored breathing. Neil turned on the radio to distract himself from the sexual images the sound called up for him. He’d always avoided being alone with her, afraid to give even the appearance of impropriety. Right then, Neil wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the trouble he’d saved himself or sorry as hell for what he’d missed. The instinctual attraction he felt for her was off the charts.

He got so caught in his reverie that only Juli tugging at his sleeve alerted him that her struggles had become sobs. “Neil, can you pull over?” Her voice sounded deflated. “I’m sorry I insisted about the hospital. I’m not ready to go back there yet.”

Her obvious misery immediately pierced his sexual fog. Neil pulled the truck into a convenience store parking lot and looked at her. “Do you want a minute? I can go get some water.”

“No, it’s okay.” She hesitated, chewing on her top lip. “I’m obviously way out of control.”

He watched her face carefully. “About what I said in the bar… I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You just think I don’t care about any of this.”

“Well, do you?”

Her head snapped up and a bit of the wolf flickered behind her eyes again. “How can you ask me that?”

Neil blew out a long breath. She wanted him to make his case? He could do that. “You know being pack alpha doesn’t pay. What about your fancy job in Lewistown? The one that was so important you couldn’t come back here to visit your dad?”

She rubbed her eyes. “Can you try to keep the venom out of this, Neil? Jeez, you’re so bitter, you’d think I failed to visit you.” Bingo. But Juli continued speaking, oblivious. “Gabriel’s not going to like it if I resign. He talked a lot about developing new talent when he hired me. But it’s not like the Council can’t run without me. This was my father’s last request. Besides, the pack probably needs me more.”

He swallowed, unable to believe she had the nerve to say these things. “Maybe I’m underestimating how good you are at walking away from things. Foolish of me, since I have personal experience.” Neil shook his head, uncertain if the anger surging through him was directed at himself or at Juli. “The pack needs someone really committed, Juli. Not someone who will leave again the next time it’s convenient.”

She snapped her gaze to his, her eyes widening with understanding. A wave of fear rushed through him. He’d revealed too much of his personal feelings. They needed to decide about the pack first. “You were the one who rejected me, Neil,” Juli said, her voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear her. “All I did was move on.”

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written romance and erotica of many flavors — dark, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her titles for Breathless Press include Not His Territory, Not the Leader of the Pack, and a contribution to the Ravaged anthology. She enjoys writing about the tension between passion and control that werewolves embody. Unfortunately, when Annabeth loses control of herself, she does not gain the power to change shape. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, blogs at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong. She loves talking books on Goodreads, too: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5295946.Annabeth_Leong

Buy One, Get One Free Offer:

Not the Leader of the Pack stands alone, but Annabeth has written in its world before. She’d love to share the previous title, Not His Territory, with current readers. If you’d like to participate, e-mail proof of purchase of Not the Leader of the Pack, such as an Amazon receipt, to annabeth dot leong at gmail dot com and let her know your e-book format of choice. Annabeth will buy a copy of Not His Territory for the first 25 people who respond.

Rock Your Soul by Sara Brookes

Rock Your SoulBook Blurb:

Beth has been scarred both inside and out by a sadistic Dom and has worked hard to put the pieces of her life back together. However, the successful disc jockey knows one piece doesn’t quite align. She yearns to submit and searches for the one Dom she’s convinced will help bring her to lusty new heights.

When Ryan agrees to assist Beth, he’s surprised by her determination to persevere. Intrigued, he pushes her limits by using his gifted carpenter’s hands to bring her wild, erotic pleasure. Ryan, though, has scars of his own, and a tragic past filled with death keeps him at a distance.

Two broken souls will find a way to heal together. Beth discovers what she needs in Ryan, and her journey mends Ryan’s heart. But when the life Beth abandoned rises from the shadows, Ryan realizes there’s something far worse than his tortuous past—a future without Beth.

Warning: Get your world rocked by two very tortured souls who come together in a blinding explosion of sensual passion that knows no bounds. Except when there are ropes, custom-carved floggers, glass dildos and motorcycle sex involved. Oh, and did I mention the m/f/m ménage scene? One can never have too many skilled men ready to lend a…hand.

Book Link:

Ellora’s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/rock-your-soul.html

Book Excerpt:

“To your knees.”

She blinked, stunned at the power and command in his voice. As the control washed over her, she wanted to respond, but she found herself too annoyed things weren’t going according to plan. While she’d expected him to ask her questions to find out what he was in store for, she didn’t expect anything of this magnitude.

Angry, she returned his glare.

He smirked. The reaction caused her insides to turn to jelly, her vitriolic thoughts vanishing on the chilly night air. Why did he have to be so goddamned handsome and annoying at the same time?

“I suggest you listen if you want me to consider taking you on as I don’t like repeating myself. To. Your. Knees.”

She opened her mouth to protest and he tilted his head down just enough to give her another message. A very stern one she couldn’t help but listen to. He would not be ignored.

She dropped her hands to her sides and slowly lowered to her knees. The rough rocks immediately bit into her shins, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing him she was in pain. She heard the unmistakable sound of buttons popping on his jeans and looked up just in time to see him part the denim. What in the Sam hell did he intend to do? If he expected her to suck his dick right here and now, he’d better think again.

“Eyes down.”

The authority behind those two words coursed through her, compelling her to obey. It had been a long time since she’d had this kind of reaction. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she complied. The denim pooled around his ankles and she found herself staring at the pile.

Just as she started to wonder if Elena had been out of her mind to recommend this man, his hand slid against the top of her head. His touch was almost calming and, despite her annoyance, a feeling of tranquility washed over her. His fingers combed her hair, catching the elastic holder from her ponytail, pulling it free. He continued to run his fingers through the strands, fanning out her hair. She relaxed under his persistent touch. The pain in her legs melted away and she gave a soft sigh as her body started to quietly buzz.

Yes.

The crunch of rocks jolted her back to the moment. She listened to him move away, leaving her alone on the rock path in front of his house.

What in the hell?

Beth looked to the left and her eyes widened in surprise as she spotted him. He strolled toward the small lake at the front corner of the field, towel swinging in his hand as he walked. Those jeans of his were at her feet and she now had an unobstructed view of his bare ass.

A very firm, very tan, perfectly formed ass.

Christ on a slinky going down an up escalator if he doesn’t look even better out of those jeans. Transfixed by the bunch and pull of the muscles in his thighs and butt as he walked over the uneven ground, she forgot her place and openly gawked.

When he reached the bank at the water’s edge, he dropped the towel and walked right into the lake. She expected him to dive under the surface, but instead he slowly moved until the water lapped as his hips. He sunk as if he were a knife cutting through the water, disappearing with no more than a quiet ripple disturbing the surface. The lake smoothed in seconds.

The only indication she ever had company were those damn jeans on the ground in front of her.

Author Bio:

Sara Brookes is an award-winning author who has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story. Born and bred in Virginia, Sara still lives there with her husband and daughter. The entire family is owned by two cats, Galahad and Loki, who graciously allow the family to cater to their every desire.

Author Links:

Website: www.sarabrookes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Sara_Brookes

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/brookesofbooks

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/authorsarabrookes

Announcement List: http://eepurl.com/mbG31

New Release: A French Affair by Lucy Felthouse

A French AffairSydney Tyler is renting a barn conversion in Northern France, planning to spend the fortnight getting some words down on her novel. Unfortunately, construction work in the other half of the building puts an end to her peace and quiet. Genuinely upset that the builders are going to disturb her, the property’s handsome English owner, Harry Bay, offers to make it up to her. He’s a little flirtatious, and after spotting his wedding ring, Sydney keeps him at arm’s length. Sexy as he is, she has no intention of getting involved with a married man. But when Sydney learns the truth about Harry, will their mutual attraction spur them on to work through their emotional baggage and make this more than just a French affair?

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-french-affair/

*****

Excerpt:

Sydney Tyler jumped so hard that her fingers slammed down onto the laptop’s keyboard and she typed a bunch of gobbledegook.

Kashfkjsdhlfknsdlfvn sdlkch awoeduioh ahdwklc

Gasping, she clutched at her chest as her heart thumped rapidly and painfully. “What the fucking hell was that?” she said to the empty room.

Pushing her chair back from the desk, she stepped over to the window. Peering out into the brilliant sunshine, she saw something on the lawn that she had absolutely not been expecting. Workmen.

She groaned. So much for her peaceful writer’s retreat. She’d planned to get a good chunk of her novel down in the fortnight she was away, and now it looked as though her peace was going to be monumentally shattered by banging, drilling and God knows what else.

Sighing, she gave the windowsill a pathetic thump in her frustration. She might have been pissed off, but she was no vandal. And besides, she didn’t want those noisy buggers in her part of the building fixing things—having them next door was bad enough.

Sydney really could not believe her shitty luck. When she’d booked the cottage in the French village of Monthiers over the phone a couple of months ago, she’d dealt with a fellow Brit called Harry Bay, who she’d suspected was the owner. On arrival, though, a timid French woman had met her and let her into the luxurious barn conversion before handing over the keys and explaining a little bit about the local area. Apparently, in the mornings, someone came along the village streets, selling fresh bread and pastries.

There wasn’t much else to tell, it seemed, as the village had nothing except a church—almost opposite her accommodation—and a tavern. It was also lacking—she’d quickly discovered—a mobile signal. Not even a single bar illuminated her screen. Her phone was now no more than a watch, alarm clock and calendar. If there was an emergency, she was screwed. But on a much lighter note, it was one less distraction. She could just get on with what she was here to do, blissfully undisturbed.

The arrival of workmen was incredibly irritating. Her temporary landlord hadn’t mentioned there’d be anyone working next door. If he had, she wouldn’t have booked the place—the quiet and idyllic location were the whole reason for choosing this property, this area. Even though there was no way he could have known she was there to work, common courtesy would dictate that he told her. Perhaps he was just interested in taking her money and didn’t give a damn about whether she had a satisfactory stay or not. There was nothing to be done about it now, unfortunately. She’d paid for the fortnight, and she was buggered if she was going to cut and run, pissing that money down the drain. She’d just have to find a way around the disturbance, and console herself that she could leave a snarky write up on a review site when she got home.

Finding out the builders’ working hours would be a good start—she could attempt to write around them then. Or perhaps she could make use of the headphones she’d stuffed into her case, without ever thinking they’d get used. Some loud rock music would drown out the din from next door and hopefully allow her to work. It was worth a try. She hoped they were only doing a small job that would only take a couple of days, but deep down she knew they weren’t. They were renovating the whole place so it was as beautiful as the half she was in.

She was just about to go in search of the aforementioned headphones when one of the men pottering around on the lush back garden stepped away from the others. Standing in a shaft of sunlight, he pulled his arms high above his head and stretched, dragging up his t-shirt to reveal a lean stomach with a fine line of dark hair leading enticingly into the waistband of his jeans.

Oh yum, she thought, perhaps having builders next door wouldn’t be so bad after all. Especially if they all looked like him. She continued to watch as the man dropped his arms to his sides and watched the others. His dark hair was overlong and stuck out at crazy angles, as though he’d been running his fingers through it. She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes from this distance, but she could make out enough detail of his features to see that he was handsome. Gorgeous, actually. Close up he could be much less attractive, but from her upstairs window, the view was pretty fine.

Just then, he glanced across at her side of the long barn, which was divided into two holiday cottages. He caught sight of her standing there, and his face dropped. He looked back at the builders, then returned his gaze to her again. Pointing at the group of noisy men, he slapped his forehead with his other hand. Finally, he pointed at his chest, then up at her. He was indicating he wanted to come in. She paused, then nodded. Common sense told her she shouldn’t be letting a strange man into her temporary home, but then, there were several large, bulky men milling around, so if they were a dodgy sort, she and the locked door would have no chance against them, especially with no means of calling for assistance. She could scream, of course, but she doubted anyone would come. The walls of the building were extremely thick—though sadly, no match for banging and drilling—the nearest house was a little way down the road, and by day, the village was all but deserted. There was only one business that she knew of—the tavern—so the other inhabitants would have to go elsewhere to work. To nearby Chateau-Thierry, perhaps, or even further afield.

She’d just have to hope that the handsome man—probably the head honcho of their group—was also a decent one. Presumably they were a reputable company, as they’d been hired by the British owners, who were usually more wary of cowboy builders, and given the horror stories and dedicated TV programmes back home, it was understandable.

Before she got even halfway down the stairs, a knock came at the door. Okay, so he was polite enough to knock, that was good. She moved a little faster, careful not to trip in her flip flops and go hurtling downwards. Once she was safely on the ground floor, she twisted the key in the door and opened it.

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women’s Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. 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

Thrill Seeking with Kristina Lloyd

Kristina LloydThrill Seeker Kristina Lloyd erotica

It’s my pleasure to have the very lovely Kristina Lloyd as my guest today. Kristina is sharing a little about her new novel, Thrill Seeker. Welcome Kristina! Do tell!

Thanks for inviting me over, KD! I’m here to share a little about my new book from Black Lace, Thrill Seeker, and would like to introduce my central character, Natalie Lovell.

Natalie’s a fairly ordinary women in her early thirties with a dull job, some good friends, and the standard amount of heartbreak under her belt. What makes Natalie extraordinary is that she’s on a mission: to know her sexual self. But the course of kink, like that of true love, never did run smooth, and we follow Natalie as she pursues an increasingly risky and muddled strategy in her determination to reach her goal. It doesn’t help that Natalie finds danger and fear enticingly erotic. If BDSM had health and safety inspectors, they’d be tearing their hair out over my protagonist.

One of the reasons I describe myself as a writer of erotic fiction rather than of erotic romance is because I like writing about individuals on a journey toward sexual authenticity. This doesn’t preclude the development of a core relationship, of love or a happy ending, but those factors aren’t driving the story. Nor does it mean my fiction isn’t romantic. It often is, albeit not conventionally so.

For Natalie, the exploration of her submissive sexuality on her own terms is key part of her self-actualisation. However, haunted and inhibited by incidents in her past, Natalie has taken some years to reach a point in her life where she feel brave enough to move forward. As she says:

I realised I had two choices. I could stick my neck out and start being honest about my desires, or I could suppress my feelings and remain in the closet, hoping someone would eventually find the door to let me out. Basically, I could live or die; or at least, live a life not fully realised. Giving up on certain aspects of yourself, the parts others might find distasteful or threatening, is the easiest thing in the world. It’s the safest route, the path of least resistance.

Natalie has played safe and secretive for too long. So she ventures into kinky internet dating, her first success being Baxter Logan, a charismatic, sexy, screwed up Scot who goes on to betray her after they’ve fallen in love. Readers meet Natalie on ‘take two’ of her online explorations where the risks have already escalated: she’s confessed to having kidnap fantasies to an intriguing stranger, Den, who hasn’t even offered a photo of his face.

This isn’t a D/S relationship which begins with contracts, safewords, clear consent and unambiguous boundaries. Many of Natalie’s fantasies centre around being forced, rendered powerless, and having choice removed. She enjoys the taste of fear. When Natalie discovers the term ‘edgeplay’ she finally has a channel for articulating and formalising some  of her desires. Here’s Natalie, mulling over what she wants:

‘Edgeplay’ was a concept I’d recently discovered and I’d added it to my mental BDSM dictionary along with other words which had once seemed peculiar in the context of sex, such as ‘scene’, ‘submission’ and ‘play’.

Although the definition seemed hard to pin down, I understood edgeplay to mean scenes where kinky activity takes place on the threshold of the submissive’s fear. Safewords aren’t used since they remove the fear. I was pleased to learn about edgeplay, not least because its existence made me feel less alone in wanting to be taken to the edge of safety, to the zone where my lust could blossom in darkness.

I recalled a word Den had once used in email: liminal. I’d had to look it up. Liminal, I learned, referred to times and places which were neither one thing nor the other: the margins and boundaries; the in-between spaces; those unstable moments of change such as the hours of twilight, the greying, glittered suspension between day and night.

That’s where I wanted to be, not secure in a walled fortress but blissing out on submission in the shifting magic of dusk.

Ultimately, my greatest concern was not my welfare but that, in clarifying an arrangement, Den and I might negotiate its heart out by stripping away risk and fear. What would be the point? I wanted to feel this in my veins, in my deepest shadows. I wanted lust spiked with terror. I wanted to be in his power, my desires ostensibly secondary to his. I wanted to know the truth of my fantasy of being abducted and taken to a place where I would be tested. How far could I go? What would happen to me on the margins of fear? Who would I become? That’s what I wanted. I didn’t want us to arrange to play a nice game by nicely discussed rules.

***

If you enjoy your erotica on the light and cheeky side, Thrill Seeker may not be for you. But if you want to try a book my publisher describes as  ‘Fifty Shades Darker than EL James or Sylvia Day’ then strap yourself in and hold on tight. Thrill Seeker is intended to be a wild, exciting, scary ride!

To find out more about Thrill Seeker, visit my blog and follow the links for a couple of sexy excerpts.

Thrill Seeker is out now in the UK in paperback and Kindle, and will be released in the US and Canada in late June.

Kristina Lloyd

Kristina Lloyd is the author of four Black Lace novels including the erotic thrillers, Asking for Trouble and her most recent book, Thrill Seeker. Her short stories have featured in numerous anthologies, including several ‘best of’ collections, and her work has been translated into German, Dutch and Japanese. She’s been described as an author who ‘writes sex with a formidable force’ and ‘blends literary and popular styles beautifully’. Kristina has a master’s degree in Twentieth Century Literature and lives in Brighton, UK. Visit her at http://kristinalloyd.co.uk