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A Day in the Life of Christine Blackthorn (@CBlackthorn @sinfulpress)

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I would love to tell you that it is a calm and quiet day full of contemplation and writing – but I have a toddler. This is notable and worth mentioning for sixteen months ago my day would have been tightly managed with a life alternating between being an academic and a writer. Then a introduced a whirlwind into my world.

My day starts with sunrise and I mean this literally. I can for example tell you that this morning the sun rose at 5.08 not because I am an ardent follower of sun cycles but because my son is solar powered. 5.08 was the first morning twitch. So, I get up as a mother, not a writer. Or it might be more accurate to say that I wake as I go to bed – as a storyteller. Every since I can remember there have been stories in my life, when I sleep, when I exercise, when I cook, there are always stories developing in my head.

So when my little being escapes his cot and comes over, dragging a book behind him with which to hit me over the head and remind me that it is time to tell the first story of the day, this is what I do. Though, contrary to the stories that will have brought you to this blog, the ones he hears contain more skipping dragons and fewer scantily clad vampires.

And this is how my day will progress. Between nappy changes, baby food, whilst we clean the kitchen together (ever read the Pippi Longstocking section where she puts brushes on her feet to clean the floor? No, try it with a one year old – it will be an absolute hit) or hang up the washing we chatter about dragons and fleas, fairies and foes. And the frog. Let’s not forget the frog.

And then there is nap time. Nap time is when my stories come out to play – the vampires and orcs, the aliens and everyday people. All generally running around saving mankind, alien kind, solving murders and conspiracies, whilst having a lot of sex.

But this last sounds a little too simplistic. All my stories have a strong sexual element but more so because sex, and erotic expression, play a huge role in the development of the relationships of my characters. Sex, not the superficial pleasure of merely exchanging touch (though that has its place as well) but sex that shakes your foundations and lets them settle stronger, is one of the few activities where the lessons life has taught us can fall away and we breathe, for a short time, without the constraints we taught ourselves.

All my stories, no matter if the characters try to solve a murder, save civilisation or just themselves, are about relationships and how they challenge us to be the best, or worst, we can be. This is what I am…. And the raptor cage rattles.

No, really. My son naps during the day in a travel cot besides me and to keep it dark in there we cover it with dark, breathable material. It is like a little cave from the inside but from the outside, the first signs of waking, are an ominous rattle and the cloth moving. The raptor cage rattles.

My afternoons are academic in nature. Teaching, counselling sessions, meetings … and here and there the glimpse of a well known figure, in the distance, possibly chasing along the parapets to catch a fleeing thief or who are burning the midnight oil to find that one detail that will save humanity. The characters in my books are always with me (and yes, that is what is happening when I get this glazed over look in meetings).

Early evenings, after bedtime and the obligatory story (not told by me but by my husband) allow me to get lost in my stories again. For a while. And then I close the computer and the evening belongs to my husband. And only to him.

*****

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A Variety of Chains excerpt

Slowly, he lowered more and more of his weight to rest on her until she could feel his hard and still clothed limbs against her nakedness. His arousal was unmistakable as it rested in the embrace of her body, only separated from her skin by the fabric of his trousers. His hand stroked down, over her hip to her knee, before he hooked a hand underneath it and brought it up to his waist, opening her further to him.

She wanted to blame the hour, so close to the fourteenth, for the wetness soaking his trousers, but knew that would not be entirely honest. Her body was wet with arousal and spasms of pleasure were tightening her womb. He started to roll his hips, stroking the fabric over a part of her that she had not realised could become so sensitive. With each stroke of his body against hers, something tensed in her a little more. His lips started to play with hers again, teasingly stroking over them and then nipping her with lightning speed. She needed something she did not know she needed, and with every second it seemed to come closer. The sound ripped from her throat was between a moan and a sob – and it stopped him in his tracks.

His brow came to rest against hers on a moan. “There is nothing I want more than to continue this so that when I ask you again if you have ever had an orgasm, you are in no doubt at all, but unfortunately now is not the time. Now is too close to midnight, and it would be careless of me to lose control.”

*****

avarietyofchainsBlurb

Kathryn McClusky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.

She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.

Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power.

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.

Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?

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*****

christineblackthornAuthor Bio

In “real” life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn’t an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me – like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica – come talk to me:

Blog: http://christineblackthorn.eu/blog

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cnblackthorn

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CBlackthorn

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/christine-blackthorn/

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Lust and Magic: Shameless Selfie on the Fells

13924941_10206900506259504_2409484410935329656_nYup! You guessed it! Being just back from some serious fell walking in the Lake District, today’s shameless selfie is inspired by my week of walking in the sunshine – a very lucky weather condition in the English Lakes, and one that can change in a heartbeat. In fact it was that sudden change in the Lakeland weather that inspired my four-novel Lakeland Witches series. When what started out as a walk on a sunny day turned into a downpour accompanied by thick mist, I was inspired – after I was down safely drinking coffee in a tea shop in Grange.

 

This weekend’s Shameless Selfie is the first chapter of Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of the Lakeland Witches series. Enjoy!

 

WARNING: Seriously adult content … and lots of magic.

 

Body Temperature and RisingBlurb:

Book one of the Lakeland Witches trilogy (Click here for: Book Two | Book Three)

American transplant to the Lake District, MARIE WARREN, didn’t know she could unleash demons and enflesh ghosts until a voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with the charming ghost, ANDERSON, and night visits from a demon. To help her cope with her embarrassing and dangerous new abilities, Anderson brings her to the ELEMENTALS, a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that temporarily allows needy ghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and will stop at nothing to destroy all she holds dear. Marie and her landlord, the reluctant young farmer, TIM MERIWETHER, are at the top of his list. Marie and Tim must learn to wield coven magic and the numinous power of their lust to stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and more innocent people die.

 

 

LakelandWitches1BTRBody Temperature and Rising Chapter One:

Out of nowhere the clouds descended, blocking the midday sun and the view of the Borrowdale Valley below. The path ahead of Marie vanished in a roil of thick mist. She shivered, then squinted at her compass. Damn it! The weather forecast had promised sunshine for the day, unseasonably warm, it had said, just like it had been all week. She reassured herself that there was no real way she could get lost on Maiden Moor and High Spy, so close to civilization. Then why did the mist feel so unsettling?

She shifted the pack on her back and tried to remember if this was the route she had taken with her parents. But that was fifteen years ago, and there had been no fog.

The world around her fell silent, as she stepped cautiously forward. She heard no bird song, no breeze, and stranger still; on what was a frequently walked path, she heard no other people. It was as though she were the only person left in the world. As she followed the flank of the fell around, the silence deepened still further until even the sound of her own breath seemed muted in the mist. Goose flesh rose along the back of her neck, and she shivered. A few more steps and the sound of a woman’s voice, half whispered in the mist, stopped her in her tracks.

‘Anderson? Are you there?’ 1

The knot in her stomach tightened at the possibility of this Anderson being lost to his companion in the fog.

‘Anderson?’ The voice came again. It didn’t sound particularly frightened. ‘Anderson, I need you.’

Marie was about to round an outcropping of rock that obscured the path when, directly in front of her, the mist cleared, and she caught sight of the woman calling for this Anderson guy. Her dark hair was pulled back in a heavy pony tail, and her legs extended forever from underneath kaki walking shorts.

Marie was about to make her presence known when out of the fog, almost as though he had materialised from nowhere, stepped a dark-haired man with a closely trimmed beard. He was broad shouldered, a little taller than the woman, and dressed in a black suite of vintage cut.

Damn tourists, Marie thought. What the hell was he thinking coming on to the fells dressed like that? Her irritation was interrupted by an intense tingling of heat below her navel that flashed hot, took her breath away and nearly drove her to her knees before it cooled to a warm buzz and skittered down low inside her pelvic girdle. Just then the man scooped the woman into his arms and kissed her with an open-mouthed tongue- fondling that left Marie’s insides feeling like warm toffee. Instinctively she stepped back, not wanting to interrupt the reunion.

‘I was worried when you weren’t here,’ the woman spoke between breathless kisses.

‘Tara, my love, I came as soon as you called. You must not worry so.’

She released a sigh that was almost a sob. ‘I have good reason.’

‘Of course you do, my darling. But worry will not ease 2

our situation. So we shall do what we must. And I will do whatever it is you ask of me.’

There was something in the way the man spoke that was strange. The accent was very British, and yet not. And the wayxcite1DEMON INTERRUPTEDedit
he moved against the woman, the way he protectively pulled her to him, the way his mouth made love to hers banished Marie’s irritation that they’d chosen her path for their reunion. Irritation was replaced by longing that ached down through her torso to mingle with the strange buzz that had migrated to the soft spot between her legs, and the air felt suddenly warmer. The man’s hands joined the reunion. He slid the strap of the woman’s tank top down to spill a bare breast heavily into his waiting palm. He paused to knead it and fondle it as though he had never seen anything more exquisite. Then he took as much of it into his mouth as he could. The woman released a shrill gasp as though cold water had been poured onto her. ‘I can feel it,’ she breathed. ‘We were right.’ Then she held him to her, letting him nurse at her in hungry nibbles and slurps.

Marie should have left, and yet she stood riveted to the rock beneath her, feeling heavy and pliant, as though something had suddenly filled her and was moulding her and shaping her from the inside with fiery hands. Her breasts tingled at the rub and tickle of the man’s beard against Tara’s tender flesh, at the tug and pull of pursed lips on swollen nipples. She felt almost as though it were her breasts at which he nursed.

Marie clasped her hand over her mouth to hold back a gasp of appreciation as, from the man’s trousers, the woman manoeuvred the longest, thickest erection she had ever seen. Not that she’d seen that many erections When had there been time? She could almost feel the hot stiffened twitch of maleness against the woman’s hand.

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As the mist floated around them revealing, concealing and revealing again, he slipped his other hand into Tara’s shorts. She caught her breath and nibbled her bottom lip as he found what he was looking for. Then she squirmed and twisted against him, practically sitting on his hand, as he stroked her. The look on her face was one of deepest concentration.

For a moment the mist thickened around the couple, and Marie held her breath listening desperately to hungry grunts that she felt deep in her belly and to little throaty moans that tingled down low, down where she shifted almost unconsciously into the dampening press of her panties against her labia.

When the mist cleared again, Anderson was sliding Tara’s shorts down, kneeling to kiss and nibble her calf as he lifted one exquisite leg free from both shorts and a pale lace thong that was definitely not what Marie would consider standard walking apparel.

He lifted the freed leg higher until Marie was afforded the perfect view of the woman’s distended lips, glistening like the heavily-dewed hawthorn flowers she’d cut this morning for a vase on her kitchen table. Marie was certain her own pout had to be at least as wet. The heat and the buzz between her legs intensified, and the slippery ache overrode the guilt at being an unwelcome voyeur, as she wriggled and strained against the seam of her walking trousers and her much more practical panties.

Anderson lifted Tara’s still booted foot onto his shoulder in reckless disregard for his pristine suit. He moved forward cupping Tara’s arse cheeks in large kneading handfuls, guiding her into enough of a squat to position her splayed cunt so that his tongue had easy access. Then he buried his face deep into the woman’s pussy, as though he planned to split her in two with his

4

tongue and the wedge of his face. The woman trembled and pressed back hard against the rock, surely just to keep from collapsing under the overwhelming pleasure of what Anderson’s mouth must feel like eating at her so deeply.

Lakeland Witches 3 EFMarie was amazed that, totally surrounded by fog as they were, her view was still perfect, even enhanced. She could almost feel the distended press of the woman’s nipples as she tugged and pulled at them with the hand not curled possessively in the man’s dark hair. She could almost smell the slippery sheen of the woman’s heat coating the man’s beard. And the rise and fall of his chest matched her own hungry need for oxygen. A single droplet of precome glistened on the head of his uncut cock. It lewdly, jutted and danced between his legs like an escapee from his dapper trousers. It boldly proclaimed freedom with each bounce and shudder against heavy balls pressed tight in their own effort to escape confinement.

It was as if the world in the mist now contained nothing else but the three of them. And the world the three of them inadvertently shared had shifted into slow motion, as though every detail were magnified, intensified and stretched to the breaking point all at the juncture between Marie’s thighs.

Even in her fantasies nothing like this had ever happened. Marie moved very carefully, feeling the rock shift under her feet as she eased her cold hand down the front of her trousers and into her panties. She shuddered at her first touch. Her knees felt weak as water as she wriggled her fingers in between her pussy lips, already drenched and swelling. She couldn’t hold back a sigh at the velvety feel of herself, at her salty sweet aroma infusing the fresh fell air.

In the crescendo of her lust she wondered if even the 5

crotch of her trousers would bear the mark of her heat when she was finished, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if her juices flooded and ran down her legs to puddle on the path beneath her, she could not have pulled away if her life depended on it. It was as though she were the invisible third party entangled in a rutting threesome too far gone to disengage.

Anderson tongued his way up over Tara’s belly, his face shimmering with her moisture, moving upward to suckle each of her nipples in turn before he pulled her to him and whispered against her ear.

Marie froze, her hand still in her knickers. She held her breath, but she couldn’t make out the man’s words.

Tara nodded and spoke breathlessly. ‘Yes, I know. I feel it. Such a powerful lust. We can’t hide it. There’s no way.’ She gave his cock a caress, and it jumped at her touch.

‘I fear it is far too late for that now.’ He turned her to the flank of the rise, where she bent, resting her arms against the rock, exposing the half-domes of her arse cheeks to Anderson and to Marie.

Tara lifted one knee onto a boulder. As Anderson helped position her, Marie caught an exquisite glimpse of the dark clench of her anus. As he spread her and she shifted her hips to accommodate him, the engorged lips of her cunt pouted into view again, open and anxious before him, before Marie.

As Marie watched his fingers move over the slick spread of the woman’s open folds she wished it were her cunt 13873113_10206900507379532_2466330018196114994_nAnderson was caressing. But at the same time she wished she could touch the soft smooth skin that opened itself so pliantly to his probing. Marie could swear she smelled the tide pool of the woman’s arousal, different from her own, yet so delicious that it made her mouth

6

water. Anderson postured over Tara, his cock like a sword pressing downward in his hand. His open fly exposed only his cock and the squeeze of his balls, which somehow made the act seem all the naughtier.

Suddenly the air around her chilled. The world tilted, and Marie felt dizzy and confused as though she had just awakened from a dream to find herself somewhere other than where she should be. Hands cupped and splayed her, hands she couldn’t see. An erection that wasn’t there pressed anxiously at her cunt. Her heart hammered, everything below her navel surged hot and trembled. The press of flesh and the smell of sex enfolded her on all sides as though she were drowning in a heavy demanding caress, one that pushed at her, prodded at her, nuzzled at her, threatening to overwhelm her.

‘Please, Anderson I can’t contain it. Help me.’

It was the sound of Tara’s voice that pulled Marie back from cold panic, just as Anderson thrust home. Then the world warmed again and swung back into focus. Once more the sounds of pleasure filtered through the thick, otherwise silent air. As Anderson mounted Tara with a desperate grunt, it stopped mattering whether they knew she was there, and Marie felt strangely included in their intimacy. She pressed herself harder and harder into the palm of her hand, pinching her nipples until they ached in empathy with the growing rush building just behind her clit, a storm surge threatening to burst the dam and rip her apart.

Tara’s hair had come free from the pony tail and fell in a dark curtain around her face. Marie could almost see the heatwaves radiating up the woman’s spine, higher and higher, as though Anderson jack-hammered them into her with each joint-cracking thrust of his cock.

It was obvious Anderson was straining close to the 7
Lakeland Witches 2 RTEedge when Tara pulled away from him and turned around, grabbing his cock and keeping the rhythm steady. He dropped onto a bolder, then she knelt in front of him and began to slide his swollen erection between her breasts, faster and faster. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips moved rapidly, like she was saying something, chanting something over and over again, something Marie couldn’t quite make out. Not that she needed to with the sensory overload already throbbing through her whole body. Anderson braced himself against the rocks, thrusting with abandon between the tight grip of Tara’s breasts, every muscle tense and quivering, until at last his whole body shuddered. ‘Oh dear Goddess,’ he gasped.

Tara pulled back, guiding his cock so that his viscous load splattered across her breasts in high arching spurts. Marie felt fire spread through her chest and down over her belly in empathy with the couple, and she humped herself harder, whimpering, gasping desperate to come.

The look on Anderson’s face was ecstatic as he unloaded. Then he joined Tara in whatever it was she was still repeating over and over again. While they chanted, he caressed and massaged and stroked, spreading his semen as though he were spreading lotion over Tara’s body, even up her neck and onto her cheeks and forehead. All the while Tara undulated and moaned beneath his touch and continued her chant.

‘My seed covers, but the power still resides in you,’ Anderson breathed. ‘And shall we release it now, my love?’

Tara only nodded and continued her breathless mutterings.

Before Marie could wonder what they were on about, he lifted Tara onto an outcropping of rock that was just the right height. ‘Then we shall complete what we have

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begun. Let me release it for you now, my darling, allow me the pleasure of finishing it.’

My God, the way the man talked, Marie thought. He could convince a woman her cunt was lined with gold. She could probably come just on his words alone.

He buried his face once more in Tara’s pussy, and once again, Marie felt as though she had been physically pulled into their intimacy.

With her gaze locked on the writhing couple, Marie tugged and pinched at the heavy nib of her clit until it buzzed with IMG_6129raw heat close to pain but much closer still to pleasure. She shoved and twisted and thrust the rest of her fingers into her grasping cunt until she reached the precipice, lingered there for a moment, then free-fell into a long dizzying orgasm, just as Tara convulsed her own release in breathless guttural grunts.

Marie’s legs gave under her, and she sat down hard, letting the aftershocks wash over her. Oxygen rushed back into her starving lungs. Muscles, strained to the point of collapse, relaxed and softened. The strange fire between her hip bones subsided to a warm thrum, and as the mist descended around her again, she managed to crawl to a mossy spot. Suddenly it didn’t matter how far she still had to walk or how thick the mist was. She could no longer hold her eyes open.

Just before she dozed, she thought she heard Anderson say, ‘There. That’s better, is it not?’

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Reviews:

 

“I am a huge fan of K.D. Grace’s explicit, well-crafted writing (I’ve selected and published her work in multi-author “Best” collections), and this novel did not disappoint me. It’s the first of a hardcore paranormal trilogy, and many readers think it is her best work to date.” Violet Blue

*****

“Body Temperature and Rising is my favourite of K D Grace’s books so far… So if you’re looking for a well-written, pacy and smokin’ hot paranormal romp, I’d point you towards this book. One warning, though. As soon as you’ve read it, you’ll want to read the next book immediately. I know I do!” 5 out of 5, Erotica For All

*****

“This is powerful, sexy writing from the extremely competent K D Grace. The story contains a compelling narrative. And all of it is set in the most beautiful scenery in the natural world. You really will love this book.” Erotica Readers & Writers Association

*****

“The plot definitely engaged me. It’s a series of one intriguing revelation after another, and one steamy interlude DI_teaserleading into another. Ms. Grace gives the reader a complex story of ghosts, witches and sex magic that I enjoyed and I think you will too.” 4.5 out of 5, Dark Haven Book Reviews

*****

“This well-written, full-length erotic novel comes from the pen of well-established writer K. D. Grace… easily one of the best books I’ve read!” Jade Magazine

*****

“For the love of all things steamy, this is one HOT read. Steamy, sexy and some other words that start with S and mean hot things, Body Temperature and Rising is definitely a wild ride. If you don’t like the sexy, stay out of the sex coven.” Reading the Paranormal

*****

“Crossing my fingers that there is more to come in this series and soon! Body Temperature and Rising is steamy hot with an involved plot. Definitely give this paranormal erotica a try!” BookingIt

*****

“Let me just say wow. The book is gripping and so erotic I lost my breath at times. It was an erotic treat and I enjoyed every second of it. While it is full of sex and damsels in distress it was a delicious read.” Books-n-Kisses

*****

“Erotic fans will really love this story however because the sex scenes and K.D. Grace’s writing style is perfect for that genre. This is the first book in this series, so I hope to see Marie and Tim’s relationship move closer together in future stories.” 4 out of 5, Romance Book Scene

*****

“This full length paranormal and erotic novel had me gripped from beginning to end… This beautifully written novel and a great mix of good plot and steaminess makes this a great start to the trilogy… Warning; make sure you have hours to spare as you can’t put this book down.” Midnight Boudoir

*****

“This erotic novel gripped me from the onset to the end, informative, descriptive and steamy with plenty of hot sexy scenes was just what I wanted from this type of book. So beautifully written I had trouble putting this book down. The author has really set the bar high and I think I will be a struggle to find another erotic novel this good.” Sex Toy Testers

*****

“…if you’re looking for a helluva lot of graphic sex, with ghosts and witches that can practically make you come just by breathing on you, multiple orgasms, group sex (and there’s a tiny bit of m/m and m/m/f action in there too), sex magic, interesting relationship dynamics without the romance development, a steady, strong plot… this book is for you. I highly recommend it.” Erotic Flashes

 

 

OUT NOW! The House of Fox – An adult paranormal comedy by SJ Smith @sjsmithauthor @SinfulPress #paranormal #comedy #smut

HoFBannerwithslogan

SJ Smith gives us another glimpse into his warped mind with his latest novel. The House of Fox is a crazy paranormal sex-fest that some will love, others will hate, but everyone will remember.

2016-291 eBook The House of Fox 6x9Blurb:

The House of Fox is a paranormal comedy that contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature.

After a drunken night on the town, four friends awake to find themselves in the House of Fox, the ultimate brothel in the universe, where every sordid fantasy becomes reality. But all is not as it seems. The House of Fox harbours many dark secrets, and factions are plotting against one another.

The four newcomers must choose their friends carefully, and take care not to lose their minds on the thrill ride of perversion that will carry them to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

The Great Voyeur in the Sky is watching . . .

Buy links for The House of Fox:

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/House-Fox-SJ-Smith-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/House-Fox-Sinful-Comedies-Book-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-of-fox-sj-smith/1123824728?ean=9781910908044

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-house-of-fox/id1126014781?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-house-of-fox

*****

HOF quote 3

Excerpt:

“Um, hello? I’m looking for someone called Pandora?”

“That’d be me,” replied a rasping voice.

“Oh, right. Hi!” He waved, and smiled his most charming smile. “My name is Dylan. Giovanni sent me down here to – um – escape?”

The woman came hobbling into the half-light. She was old – impossibly old – with wrinkles on her wrinkles and snow white hair hanging all the way to the floor. Her eyes, which were radiantly green and untouched by the years that had withered the rest of her body, twinkled with mirth at the expression he must have pulled on seeing her.

“What’s the matter, son? You forget what a real woman looks like?” She leaned her weight on a gnarled walking stick. “I’m ‘fraid to say, the magic that keeps all them girlies looking so damned good out there don’t work none in here. What you see is what you get.”

Was she fishing for compliments? God, women were so hard to understand sometimes. “You look lovely,” he offered, trying to ignore the obvious smell of piss.

“Ha!” Pandora came limping forward, reminding him of one of those crazy old fuckers he sometimes used to encounter in the Post Office. She sniffed the air. “So you’ll be the boy that wants to escape?”

Dylan nodded. “That’s me.” Something about her intense eyes unsettled him and froze him where he stood. He found he was scared of her for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Holy shit. Things must be a damned sight worse than I thought if you’re the best they’ve got to offer.” She shook her head. “Times call for a lion, and I get given a lamb. I can tell from the way you hold yourself you’re more suited to brushing out stables than carrying the hopes of a nation on your shoulders.”

Dylan stuck out his bottom lip. He didn’t like this mean old lady.

“Well, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Sweet Mary Mother of Joseph, let’s hope you ain’t as dumb as you look, because truth be told you look dumber than a bag of hammers.”

Her insults prickled at his skin. “Are you going to help me or not?” he asked indignantly.

“Help you? Well, that depends entirely on your definition of the word.” She cackled, and grinned toothlessly. “I’m going to send you out of here, just like you’ve been wanting. Whether that’ll be of any help to you remains to be seen. It isn’t an easy journey, and frankly you’ll regret undertaking it after you’ve not gone more than a dozen steps. You’ll soon be wishing you were right back here in the House of Fox, getting that big old cock of yours sucked by all them lackey floozies and hoochies.”

Only now did he realise quite how naked he was. Giovanni’s tuxedo had disappeared, as if blown away by a breeze. He covered his groin with his hands.

Pandora laughed. “No need to hide it, son. I’m a little long in the tooth to be getting offended by the sight of a man’s ding-a-ling.”

Frustration throbbed in Dylan’s temples. This whole experience felt like it was shaping up to be a waste of time. If only he’d stayed in bed this morning. “Can we just get on with it, please?”

“If you’re sure you really want to go through with this, we can get started right away.”

“I’m sure.” Dylan puffed out his chest. He wasn’t afraid. Was he?

Pandora nodded sagely. “Cool beans. Get down on your hands and knees. We’re going to work ourselves a little witchcraft.”

He knelt on the floor and got on all fours as instructed. The old woman squatted down beside him, her knees clicking and creaking. She ran her hand along his back, then reached between his thighs and closed her bony fingers around his cock.

Dylan pulled a face. Could it get much worse than this? Getting wanked off by an old lady in a hovel was seriously not cool.

“We’re going to need a little of your seed, so try and relax.” Pandora stroked his shaft with cold, leathery palms. “Come on big boy, squirt me up a handful.”

Dylan closed his eyes and tried to pretend the rather unpleasant motion at his groin was being caused by the mouth and tongue of that lovely blonde girl from last night rather than the warty, withered hands of a geriatric. He finally got hard, felt the flutters in his balls and gasped as he shot his load.

“Bingo,” Pandora muttered.

HOF quote 4

*****

Author Bio:

SJ Smith is a neurotic recluse who lives in North Wales. It has long been his dream to become a full time filth monger.

Links:

Twitter: @sjsmithauthor

Blog: http://sjsmithrants.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SJSmithWriter/

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Out Now! Beast Denied by Faye Avalon (@faye_avalon) #paranormal #PNR #shifters

Beast DeniedBook Blurb:

To embrace the future, they must defy the past.

Beasts of Bodmin Moor, Book 2

Naomi Flynn never intends to mate or marry. Either one would leave her open to the manipulation she’s sworn never to endure again. Besides, no panther male will want her once they know the truth behind what happened a decade ago.

She’s happy to burn up the sheets in a buddy-with-benefits arrangement, until a craving for a three-way sexual adventure thrusts her right back into the arms of the man she can’t afford to remember.

Tynan Galloway doesn’t intend to stand by and watch the woman he wants throw herself at every male with a pulse except him. Ten years ago, a brutal assault robbed him of his destiny as a protector of the pack, but damned if Naomi is going to be another casualty of his fate.

In the heat of a fantasy come true, Naomi’s resolve to keep her emotional distance weakens. But when Tynan discovers she’s in potential danger, he dares her to deny he’s the only man who can protect her. Never expecting she’ll go to extremes to prove him wrong…

Product Warnings

A hot panther shifter with something to prove, a heroine with a secret to keep, and a threesome arrangement which brings out the teeth and claws.

*Top Pick* Night Owl Reviews

“captivating paranormal romance…fast paced…sizzling chemistry…spine tingling tension.”

https://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Reviews/Evampire-reviews-Beast-Denied-by-Faye-Avalon

 

Buy Links:

Samhain: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5747/beast-denied

Amazon: http://myBook.to/BeastDenied

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beast-denied-faye-avalon/1122833125?ean=9781619233034

All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-beastdenied-1955321-340.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/beast-denied

 

Excerpt:

Pushing through the jittery discomfort, Naomi moved until her back was to the men. She reached around to unhook her bra, then held the unfastened cups close to her chest. Turning back, with the men’s gazes focused on her still-covered breasts, she let the straps fall away. There was a sense of power, Naomi thought, in holding a man enthralled, or in this case, men. While it might have been better easing herself into this particular game more gradually, there was sometimes a lot to be said for simply plunging in at the deep end.

Reminding herself this was her choice, her fantasy, she let her hand fall away, and the bra fell to the floor.

Malcolm groaned, his prick bobbing again. Derek had barely moved, but his throat contracted as he swallowed.

Twisting around again, Naomi hooked her fingers into the sides of the wispy black panties and began to lower them down over her hips, the cool brush of air on her bared backside sending shivers along her sensitive flesh.

“Fuck. Get over here before I come just by looking at you.”

Malcolm, Naomi thought. The more gregarious of the two. Derek was far more intense, quietly watching her as the three of them had chatted in the bar, and now while she performed her striptease.

When she turned back, Derek was on his knees at the end of the bed. His eyes gleamed dangerously, and he grabbed her wrist, yanking her onto the mattress. She tumbled facedown, the breath knocked out of her.

Hands trailed over her naked flesh, sliding up her thighs, cupping her rear, stroking her back. Roughly, she was tossed onto her back, and she looked up into Derek’s menacing gaze. His cock pressed against her leg, while Malcolm cupped her pussy.

Oh shit. What was she doing? She didn’t know these men. Had no idea what sort of people they were apart from the fact they were down from London on business and, like her, were looking for a good time.

She was such an idiot. She needed her damned head examined.

Her strength was greater than that of human women, but when she tried to scramble up, Derek pressed her back with ease. “You’re not going anywhere until we get what you’ve been promising all evening.”

Malcolm laughed and pressed his finger inside her. “She’s up for it,” he said on another laugh. “Just likes to make it more exciting, don’t you, babe?”

He pushed deeper, making her flinch. “Like that, don’t you?”

“No. This was a mistake. I—”

Derek shoved Malcolm aside, then scrambled between Naomi’s legs, pushing them apart with his knees. She tried again to get up, but he pressed a hand to her shoulder, weighing her down. “Give me a damn condom.”

Malcolm tossed him the foil packet, and, keeping his gaze on hers, Derek ripped it open. His feral look pushed fresh fear into her stomach, and with every ounce of strength she possessed, she tried to scramble up. She couldn’t budge him.

Derek released his hold on her shoulder to slide on the rubber, but before she could take the chance to escape, Malcolm pinned down her arms.

Panic clutched at her throat, nausea churning her stomach. Oh God. This was so not how she’d thought it would be.

With his face a snarling mask of determination and sickening lust, Derek yanked up her hips.

“I… I’ve changed my mind.”

Her throat was so tight, she could barely enunciate, and it was evident he hadn’t heard her when he grabbed his cock and leaned over her.

“I said, no!” With sheer will, she directed every fiber of strength into her arms. Energy pulsed along her muscles, firing the nerve endings, and she sucked air into her tight lungs. Releasing her breath, she shoved upward, and Malcolm toppled back. Naomi had a glimpse of the shock lighting his face before she pushed at Derek’s shoulders. When he recoiled, she took advantage of the surprise factor and scrambled off the bed.

She almost made it to the bathroom, intent on getting her dress and hightailing it out of there, but Derek caught her around the waist.

Naomi lashed out, shoving her foot against his chest with such force that Derek went hurling into the air and across the room. He landed awkwardly against the walnut bureau, blood oozing from his cheek.

While Malcolm stood motionless by the bed, watching openmouthed, Derek wiped a hand across his face. He stared at the blood-smeared hand and staggered dazedly to his feet. Naomi didn’t hang around. She grabbed her dress from the bathroom and hurried into it. Snatching up her bag, she beat a hasty retreat.

She dashed out into the empty hallway and, with her dress half-zipped, fled down the hotel stairs. The lights in the reception area were dimmed for the night, but she focused on the revolving door ahead of her. When she pushed at it, nothing happened. She gave it another shove before realizing they were probably locked for security reasons. Glancing in the direction of the reception desk, she saw a young man hurrying toward her.

“Is everything okay?” His pale eyes were full of concern. “Can I help you with something?”

“Just let me out of here,” she said. “Please.”

He hesitated, and Naomi considered summoning that superhuman strength she’d found upstairs to get the doors open.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Her mind buzzed, her body still trembled, but through the mayhem of it all, she recognized the voice from behind her. She took a moment to center herself, to find a degree of balance, which bordered on impossible as memories slammed into her.

Tynan Galloway.

Naomi had spent the past decade well over a hundred miles away from him, and during the months she’d been back in Bodmin had managed to largely avoid him. Now he decided to show up at the lowest point in her existence. Well, not the lowest, but she wasn’t going there right then, and certainly not with him looming beside her.

She turned, her hands trembling around the strap of her bag, and met his piercing emerald gaze. It had haunted her for so long, the devastating hue of it. But now, facing it again, her heart trembled.

“I just need to leave.” She swallowed before addressing the young porter. “Can you please open the door?”

His concerned gaze slid over her short black dress as, she imagined, did Tynan’s. “Are you sure everything’s all right, miss?”

“Everything’s fine. I just—”

“Brandy,” Tynan said to the porter. “Double, I think.”

Before Naomi could object, the young man nodded and slipped away. Tynan took her arm and headed for a nearby chair. She tried to shake him off. She’d had quite enough of being manhandled for one bloody evening.

“I don’t want brandy. I just want to leave. I’ve had a crappy night.”

Still with his hand on her arm, he swung her half around so her back was to him. “Is that why your dress is unzipped?”

She took the inference. “It’s none of your business.”

“If you’re sleeping with a sleazebag who throws you out in the middle of the night before letting you get dressed, I’m making it my business.”

He zipped her dress, then plunked her down on the chair and pulled another one close so he could sit facing her. His knees bumped hers.

The contact shot a wave of longing through her. “All I want is to get out of here. And what are you doing skulking around hotel lobbies in the middle of the night? Doesn’t high-tech hacking keep you busy enough?”

“Yeah.” He frowned, effectively ignoring her barbed comment. “But there’s always room for more excitement.”

Seeing as she’d had more than enough excitement for one night, Naomi found it hard to agree.

The porter came back with brandy, hovering over her like a mother hen while she dutifully sipped at it. At Tynan’s nod, he moved away back to the reception desk and left them alone in the dimly lit hall.

“Want to tell me about it?”

She peered at him through narrowed eyes. “No.”

Tynan kept a steady focus on her, almost as if he could see right down to her very soul. She remembered that look. She hated it.

“Did he hurt you?”

He asked the question so quietly, so gently, her eyes filled and she turned away. She was coming down, all that adrenaline leveling out and leaving her raw, exposed. She’d felt that way once before with Tynan, a long time ago. She hated that too.

 

Copyright © 2016 Faye Avalon
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Author Bio:

Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property development, public relations and education, before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.

Faye lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog. They regularly expand their family by boarding puppies destined to become guide dogs. Between writing, reading, running around after manic puppies and grabbing some quality time with her husband, Faye enjoys a challenging yoga session or a night at the movies.

Links:

Website:  www.fayeavalon.com

Blog: www.fayeavalon.wordpress.com

Twitter: @faye_avalon

Facebook: www.facebook.com/faye.avalon.1

Pinterest: https://uk.pinterest.com/fayeavalon1/

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/fayeavalon/

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Out Now! – First Beast by Faye Avalon @faye_avalon #PNR #romance #erotica

First BeastBook Blurb:

To protect his pack, he must guard his heart.

Lost on Bodmin Moor, twelve-year-old Talia Summers was cold, hurt and terrified, before being saved by a black panther that materialized out of the night.

Years later, Talia returns to the moor in search of that magnificent beast, but instead finds a man leading a clan of shape shifters. Yet the connection she remembers is strangely absent. She despairs of ever finding it again—until a stranger steps into her shower.

Back to claim his rightful place, Caleb McLeod’s fierce attraction to his half-brother’s female is tempered by the fact she’s a human. Worse, a journalist. He’ll not have his people’s survival threatened by a human female who continually pushes the boundaries of pack rules.

His solution? Mate with her. Control her. And if his brother doesn’t like it, they’ll simply have to share. For now.

But suspicion and lies threaten the growing bond between Talia and Caleb, and the past has a way of catching up. A way of destroying the bridge built between two worlds…between two hearts.

Beasts of Bodmin Moor, Book 1

Product Warnings

A red-hot panther shifter with an over-the-top possessive streak, a human reporter trying desperately to retain her independence, and enough sexual heat to set fire to the moors of Cornwall.

Buy Links:

Samhain Publishing:  https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5660/first-beast

Amazon:  http://myBook.to/FirstBeast

Nook: http://bit.ly/1PUTE0u

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/1O0TGhG

 

Excerpt:

Since she’d deliberately gotten home early, Talia headed straight to the kitchen to put lasagna in the oven. She intended to make the evening special, to make up for some of the tension between her and Joshua.

Since the day was hot, unbearably so, she headed to the shower.

She’d expected Josh to be home, but wasn’t overly worried. He’d likely taken himself off to the moor and hadn’t yet gotten her text asking him to join her.

Thinking it might bring them closer if he’d shared that part of himself, Talia had once asked him to shift in front of her, but he’d steadfastly refused. It was his time, he’d said. Something he couldn’t share with anyone, even her.

Many times when she woke in the night he would be gone. On his return, he’d often wake her and they would make love. Lately, he’d come home with a restless energy. She’d feel him slide into bed, turn over and slip into a troubled sleep.

Maybe it was all part of being a shapeshifter. Something to do with the phases of the moon.

She stripped off her work clothes, put the shower on cool, and stepped beneath the spray. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feel of the water against her skin and let the tension of the day slide off her shoulders.

Over the spray of water, she heard the click of the back door. Joshua was home. She didn’t call out. He’d hear the shower soon enough, and by the time he reached the bathroom he would have stripped out of his clothes.

How was it that all their problems seemed to fall away when they had sex? Here, they were compatible. Here, they saw eye to eye.

So why did she still crave something that possibly didn’t even exist?

Unbidden, her thoughts slipped back to that night she’d gotten lost on the moor. Why in heaven was she thinking about it so often these days? It was as if something called to her, made her more aware of her longing for what she’d experienced back then. Josh had been a young panther, he’d told her, running solo for the first time. Most of his kind didn’t experience shifting until they reached puberty, and they had to run with more experienced members until they learned the secrets and challenges of the moor.

She’d been so desperate to learn more, to talk to him about that night and how much it had meant to her, but he was always circumspect. Probably because shifters weren’t supposed to talk about their experiences on the moor, especially not with humans.

Pushing the thoughts away, she continued to soap herself, anticipating the moment the bathroom door would open and Joshua would stand there in all his glory and ready to play. With her free hand, she reached out and rubbed at the steamy shower screen, giving herself a clear window through which she would be able to see him. She could hear his footsteps—weird how attuned she was becoming to sound, scent and vision. It was almost as if her own senses had sharpened since she’d mated with a shifter. Perhaps that was a side effect? She’d have to check it out with Joshua. That was, if he’d be willing to discuss it.

The footsteps seemed to wander from room to room, and she speculated as to what particular game Joshua was playing. Had he thought of yet another inventive way to string out the anticipation? To make her wait for him so that she was so hot by the time he reached her that she’d be desperate to jump him?

She’d be damned if she’d call out to him, because that was probably one of his intentions. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and determined to play whatever game they were in the middle of. She unhooked the shower attachment, and held it ready at chest level, so that when he opened the door to the shower cubicle, she’d be in the perfect position to blast him.

She bit down on her bottom lip. Denied the warmth of the shower water, she shivered from both the cool air on her flesh and the thought of what was to come. Knowing Josh, he’d be pissed when she drenched him, but a pissed and aroused Joshua was often a joy to behold.

The footsteps grew louder and seconds later, the slow squeak of the door signaled his arrival. Since her peephole had steamed up again, she couldn’t see him, but smiled as the dark shadow approached the cubicle door. She hummed softly, sashayed a little, so that he’d think she was unaware of his presence and was simply enjoying her shower.

The shadow remained outside the door, perfectly still and strangely menacing. Something niggled, seeming a little off. Did Josh seem taller, broader? She mentally nudged it away as a trick of the light, and possibly her own arousal. But goose-bumps lifted the tiny hairs on her arms and she gripped the showerhead tighter.

Without warning, the cubicle door swung open and Talia had the breath knocked out of her momentarily as the cold snap of air whooshed into the small space. Narrowing her eyes, she raised the showerhead and let the spray hit Josh full in the face.

“What the hell?”

The deep curse that echoed around the bathroom and the strong hand that clasped her wrist belonged not to her husband, but some brute of a man who towered over her while she stood naked and trembling.

“Who…what do you think you’re d-doing?”

With his free hand, he wiped his drenched face. “My question exactly, sweetheart.”

His deep green eyes glared at her, his grip tightening around her wrist so that she dropped the showerhead to the floor. In the process, it sprayed them both with water, soaking his dark gray T-shirt and jeans. It earned her another dark curse.

She tried to scream, but nothing came out. So she did the next best thing. She fought. Kicking, hitting out with her free hand, and meeting nothing but rock-solid muscle.

“Get out!” She lashed out once more, tugging furiously at his grip on her and trying in vain to get free of him. Her breath backed up in her lungs, all her muscles tight and trembling. “Let go of me!”

He wiped his face again, the lower part of it sporting dark stubble. Talia let her gaze skim over him, trying to memorize his features for when she had to give a description to the police. God. He was built like a truck. His neck alone would rival the span of her waist, while his chest rippled and heaved beneath the soaked shirt.

Suddenly aware of her nakedness, she ceased her perusal. “If you don’t let go of me, I’ll scream. So help me, I’ll scream loud enough to wake the dead.”

He only grinned at that, yet there was little humor in it. Feral, she thought dazedly. He reminded her of a determined predator…

Bloody hell. Was he a shifter? A member of a visiting pack? It seemed to happen pretty frequently, but from what she knew, they didn’t engage in breaking and entering.

The thought that this man might be a shifter terrified her. She knew of their strength, of their power. Of their primal charm and charisma…which had to explain the sudden resurgence of arousal that powered through her trembling body.

“Go ahead and scream. There’s nobody around to hear you.”

He was right, of course, and she shivered with alarm. Most of their neighbors were at work, and the house itself was on the edge of the moor, its strategic position giving the pack’s leader both status and tactical strength.

She raised her chin and made herself stare him straight in the eye. “You don’t scare me.”

Another feral grin. “Is that so?” He glanced insolently down at her breasts and the hard, pebbled nipples that rose to attention. “But it sure looks like I do something to you, sweetheart.”

She gasped, and he abruptly released his hold on her and stepped back. Since he was still blocking her exit from the cubicle, Talia couldn’t reach the towel she’d placed on the railing outside without brushing her body against him. She crossed one arm to cover her breasts, then reached down to palm her hand over her center.

When he glanced to where her hands were purposefully placed, she suffered the punch of his assessing gaze and felt more naked than ever.

“If you leave now, I won’t report you,” she stated, thankful that her voice had regained some of its authority. “Just go.”

In answer, he raised his arm over his head and grabbed the back of his sodden shirt. Effortlessly, he shrugged it off and dropped it to the floor.

Eyeing his chest, Talia swallowed. She’d thought Joshua’s chest was ripped, but this man’s was something else. Scars scored the wide expanse of hard, solid muscle, crisscrossing as if someone had planned to create a specific pattern there. But they did little to mar the sheer masculine perfection of his upper body. Down the right side of his torso, a deeper, angrier-looking scar traveled from his ribcage to disappear beneath his jeans.

So lost in her heady examination, she didn’t realize he’d moved closer to her.

She jerked back, flattening herself against the cubicle wall. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

He spared her a glance. “Just undertaking some damage control. If my jeans get any wetter, I’ll need to ditch them, then there’ll be two of us naked in this shower.” He reached around her to turn off the faucet. “From your overreaction so far, I’m not sure you’d be too happy about that.”

“My overreaction?” The absolute nerve of the jerk. “You’ve barged in here, threatened me—”

“Wasn’t aware I’d done anything to you.”

She half expected him to add yet, but he strolled across to the railing and picked up the towel she’d placed there. He tossed it to her, making her almost giddy with relief. If he was going to let her dry herself, surely his intentions weren’t quite as dishonorable as she’d feared.

She wrapped the towel tightly around herself, keeping her gaze firmly on him. He went over to the rack and selected another towel with which he proceeded to dry himself.

Her fears shot into orbit again when he positioned himself in front of the bathroom door, effectively barring her escape the way he had in the cubicle. Gingerly, she stepped out. If she could at least get access to the bathroom cabinet, she might be able to select something to use as a weapon.

“What’s your name?”

The question took her by surprise and she jerked her chin toward him. “I should be asking you that. So I know who to report when I make my statement to the police.”

Perhaps in retrospect, she shouldn’t antagonize him, but the nerve of the man. Breaking into her home, terrorizing her, demanding to know her name as if she were the intruder.

He laughed. “And just how many arrests has old Bill Tucker made recently?”

“You know him?”

“Since I was a kid. And if we’re talking arrests, maybe I should be the one pressing charges.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Now will you please stand aside and let me out of this bathroom?”

He threw the damp towel onto a nearby chair. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. At least not until you answer my question.”

Since he’d planted his feet and crossed his arms over his massive chest, Talia swallowed down fresh tension. “What…what question?”

“Just what the hell are you doing in my house?”

Author Bio:

Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property development, public relations and education, before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.

Faye lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog. They regularly expand their family by boarding puppies destined to become guide dogs. Between writing, reading, running around after manic puppies and grabbing some quality time with her husband, Faye enjoys a challenging yoga session or a night at the movies.

Visit her at www.fayeavalon.com or on Twitter and Facebook.

Links:

Website:  http://www.fayeavalon.com

Blog: http://www.fayeavalon.wordpress.com

Twitter: @faye_avalon

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/faye.avalon.1

Pinterest: https://uk.pinterest.com/fayeavalon1/

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