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Lily Harlem Talks About Her New Summer Romance, TOY BOY

toyboy_800I love the change to have my Brit Babe sisters over for a chat to catch up on all the news and gossip, and it’s totally my pleasure to have my dear friend, fab writer and partner in naughtiness, Lily Harlem, with me today. Welcome, Lily!

 

Hi Kd, thank you so much for inviting me to your blog today. Normally we’d clink glasses of Pimms this time of year and dine on strawberries and cream, but I’m going to switch that to a shot of ouzo and a spread of meze. Yes, that’s right, we’re off to Greece! Pack your sandals and sun cream, your bikini and lip balm and be sure to bring your camera…

Greece is the setting of my new summer romance Toy Boy. I adore Greece, Mr H and I travelled there several years ago and I can’t wait to go back. It’s the colours that stayed with me the longest. I’ve never seen such blue blue, green green or white white. Which might sound crazy but really and truly that’s what it’s like.

Here’s a picture of some cats I took when we’d finished lunch one day in a small harbour we’d sailed into, even a stray catscat picture is full of colour!

I say sailed into because we were lucky enough to go sailing around some of the islands in the Ionian Sea which is what Sullivan and Kay do in Toy Boy. But unlike Sullivan, Mr H isn’t an expert sailor! However, we did have some instruction and we’re part of a flotilla so by the end of the week we were learning the ropes (pun intended) and actually getting pretty confident. Here’s a couple of pictures taken on our travels.

Fiscardo
Fiscardo

We stayed in a different port every night but started and ended our holiday in the small fishing village of Fiscardo. I’ve used this location in Toy Boy as it was one of the prettiest places I have ever been to. The harbour, the small restaurants, the people it all took my breath away. The flora and fauna was beautiful too and as I sit here writing this I can remember the feel of the sun on my shoulders and the breeze in my hair.

I’ll leave you with this lovely picture of the sun setting over the island of Ithaca. Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll check out Toy Boy and have a trip to Greece in your imagination.Cliff

Lily x

 

Toy Boy Blurb:

Getting something unexpected can be a shock, but it can also be a wonderful treat, if you allow yourself to indulge, that is.

boatKay is bubbling with excitement. She’s booked a sailing holiday of a lifetime in Greece with a man she’s fallen for hook, line and sinker. They met on the Internet. She’s from Oxford, he’s from Washington State. She’s a business lecturer, he runs his own successful business.

They’re perfect for each other, and she can’t wait to meet him and spend time in and out of his bed, allowing him to seduce her for real and not just with softly spoken words over the telephone.

But when she arrives in the idyllic port of Fiscardo, she’s in for a shock. There’s a reason Sullivan’s photographs were grainy, and it’s not because he’s sporting a potbelly or balding as she’d suspected. It’s because he’s fiscardoover a decade younger than her and could rival any Greek god in the looks department. What’s more, his sex appeal and lust for her is off the scale.

Should Kay take what she can with her ‘toy boy’ and have some fun in the sun or hop on the first plane back to England? It’s a tricky decision for a woman who believed she couldn’t be surprised by life anymore.

 

 

Buy from Totally Bound and all other good ebook retailers. Links here.

 

GetAttachment-6.aspxToy Boy Excerpt:

“It’s all organized. Booked.”

I’d heard the words Sullivan had spoken but could hardly believe them. Not that they hadn’t been expected, just that finally, after a year of long-distance communication, we were going to meet face to face.

In Greece!

“Really?” I managed. “I’m so excited. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. I told you. It’s a date. Our first date.”

His voice was lusciously low and sexy. We’d started out chatting online, so when I’d first heard it for real, over the ouzophone, I’d been seduced all over again. Not only could he write words that turned me into a heap of mush on the sofa, he also spoke in a way that made me want to rip off my clothes and rub myself all over him.

“Thank you,” I said, twirling my wedding ring around my finger. “But are you sure? It sounds so expensive.”

“It’s not, and if I’m skippering, that makes it a fraction of the cost.” He paused. “Kay, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long, please, let me have this.”

I hesitated and stared at my reflection in the window. Twilight was stealing the day, and light from the lone candle flickering on the sill bounced off the glass.

A fluttering in my stomach sent excited sensations up to my chest and down to my pelvis. It had been so long since another man had made me giddy with anticipation. I’d lost Thomas five years ago. He’d been the love of my life, my soul mate. Then one day, he was gone.

Darkness.

Killed in a car crash—head-on collision.

“Hey, you still there?”

“Yes, sorry, Sullivan. I am. It’s just…”

“You haven’t been treated for a while. I get that, and before you say it, I know you can afford it, but I want to do this.”

I tipped my chin and took a deep breath. “In that case, thank you. I’ll organize my flight. And I can’t wait to see you in Cephalonia. It’s going to be…awesome.” I tried out one of the new words I’d picked up from his vocabulary.

“Yeah, awesome.” He’d put an extra strong American twang to his accent. “And don’t worry about a thing. I can manage a thirty-two-footer, no problem, and this will be the fourth time I’ve navigated around the Ionian Islands.”

“So you keep telling me.” I smiled. He’d been talking about us taking a sailing holiday for a while. He was a keen sailor, whereas I was a novice and a bit nervous, if I was honest. But I guessed he was looking forward to flexing his muscles in front of me and showing me just how in control of the wind and the ocean he was—the Neanderthal in him was trying to get out, or so I suspected.

meze“The wind picks up in the afternoons,” he went on, “so we can have late nights, lazy mornings and hit the waves after lunch.”

“If that’s the best time to hoist the sails.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll be the best time.” He chuckled. “Listen, I have to run. A meeting with my finance director is calling.”

“Oh, of course.” When we got chatting, I often forgot about the five-hour time difference between Oxford and New York. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow and see you next week.” I bit on my bottom lip. Sullivan was really going to be in front of me—next week—to touch, kiss, join in bed. Late nights, he’d said. Late nights, just the two of us, naked, letting our desire spill out and doing the things we’d talked about when our conversations had gotten frisky. Which they often did, much to my delight.

“Sure thing, baby. Catch you tomorrow.”

cliff1I set down my phone and flopped onto the sofa. I had a small round table set next to it that held my glass of wine and the one photograph Sullivan had emailed me. It had been taken in Central Park several Christmases ago, so he’d said. It was evening, and shadows sliced over his body and face, the night embracing his image. He wore a hat against the cold and a scarf muffled up to his chin. His collar stood tall, just stroking his ears, and a puff of cold air hung before him.

I wished it were a clearer photograph. I’d asked him for another one, and he’d said he would but had never gotten around to it. The one I’d sent him, of me in the garden by my rose bed, was perfectly clear. I’d been wearing a sun hat and holding my secateurs, and the shot was natural and bright. I thought it best to let him see me for how I was, rather than trying to dress to the nines then Photoshop away the wrinkles. Not that I was old or didn’t scrub up okay—I did. I just wanted to look like myself.

fishSullivan had gone for moody and atmospheric with his shot. I couldn’t even make out his hair color because of his winter beanie, or the exact shape of his mouth because of his scarf. But his eyes were gorgeous—sparkling and sexy and staring straight at the camera, straight at me.

I couldn’t wait to see him for real. He was always so kind and gentle with me. I’d told him all about Thomas and how broken I’d been after his death. He’d listened on the phone for hours and sent me long, sensitive emails when I’d told him it was an anniversary or birthday. He understood grief. He got how much of a deal this was for me—to be entering a relationship with someone else when I’d believed there would only ever be Thomas in my life.

 

First reviews

 

“Kick off your shoes, shed your clothes along with your inhibitions and indulge yourself in a sensual adventure.”

 

“Wow! What a story!”sunset

 

“What can I say but off the charts HOT!”

 

“Another fantastic book by Lily Harlem, she does such a great job on describing the characters and the place I could smell the sea and felt like I was on an island in Greece.”

 

Fiscardo
Fiscardo

“A new romance book by Lily Harlem – no other words are needed, you just know it’s going to be fabulous.”

 

“Simply a beautiful, sexy, smile-inducing story that you will want to read over and over.”

 

“An absolutely perfect book to read whilst pool side or lounging on a sun deck.”

 

Oh the sun, the sea, the sex! Lily has a way of writing that puts you in the book. Her descriptions of Greek Islands had me day-dreaming I was on a boat, feel the wind and sun on my face, could smell the charcoal fires from the harbour side café’s and taste the olives and wine.

 

lily-harlem 

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, multi-published author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave and Sweetmeats Press. Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot, In Expert Hands and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily writes MF, MM and ménage a trois, her books regularly hit the #1 spot on Amazon Best Seller lists and Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2014. Her latest MM novel is Dark Warrior.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

 

Lily Harlem Links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk

BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk

Hockey Romance http://www.hockeyromance.com

Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Hot Ice https://www.facebook.com/hoticeseries

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

 

 

Knicker-Dampening Vampires by Victoria Blisse (@victoriablisse)

thingsthatgohump300x200It’s my birthday today and I will definitely be indulging in some of my favourite foods and of course a great big slab of birthday cake.  I’ll send you all a slice though your broadband connections. Might be a bit crumbly once it’s been through the wifi though.

I’m a sweetness and light kinda gal. I don’t like to be scared. I know for some people a scary book or movie is a delight, not me. I end up with nightmares for weeks after. So I tend to try and avoid anything past a Dr Who levels of frightening.

pointForever-Love-VampSo what am I doing here on a blog hop that celebrates all things spooky and paranormal? Good question. I’m here ‘cos my wonderful mate KD asked me to join in with Things that go Hump in the Night and also to introduce you to my vampires.

Yep, I can imagine you blinking and pulling a confused face after reading that. Yes, I’ve written stories about vampires and vampires are pants wettingly scary. However my vampires will make your knickers damp but in a far more pleasurable way.

My vampires have discovered a night club named The Point and how to count to ten. Let me explain. The founder of the club discovered that if a vampire sucks the blood of a human who is just at the point of climax up to a count of ten then that vamp will be satisfied. No need to kill, just to thrill. The Point facilitates the connection between hungry vampires and willing humans.

Here’s an excerpt from the very first Point Vamp book which illustrates the special Suck and fuck technique. We’re diving right into the action, so hang on it’s going to be a bumpy ride:

He gently undulated his hips. One hand rested on her hip, the other on the back of the sofa, and he moved. She knew he was holding himself back, checking that she wasn’t in pain with her ankle. She wasn’t. All she could feel was the ecstasy of him inside of her.

“Yes, fuck me harder,” she gasped after a few minutes of slow, teasing thrusts. She needed more. She needed to feel the violence and the lust she’d seen in his eyes moments earlier. She wanted more.

“Your wish, my lady, is my command.” He leant over her then, his arms came to rest level with her chest, and she lifter her arms straight over her head to accommodate them. She felt so wanton as her breasts lifted higher in the corset, displaying more of her delicate moons to him. She took great delight in feeling his lips press briefly to one then the other before he started to thrust in earnest.

She yelped and mewled. She wanted to speak, but all sensible thought was knocked from her mind as he fucked her hard. She wrapped her hands around his neck and raked her fingers through his hair. He was rough, and she loved it. Every thrust made her body vibrate and her cunt clench to hold in the pleasure, to squeeze his cock and make him groan and pump harder.

pointLush-Point-Vamp“Elizabeth,” he gasped, and she opened her eyes. He was looking down at her, and their gazes met. His look was hungry. He wanted to devour her, and she felt as if she was his prey. “Elizabeth, I’m losing all control, oh God Elizabeth, I can’t hold back any more.”

He kissed her then. His hips still pumped in a frenzy and his kiss matched his cock in its ferocity. He took her breath away, and his lips slipped down her cheek to her chin and landed on her neck. He started to nip and to nibble, he sucked and he bit. She felt as if her skin had been punctured by fine shards of glass, and as he sucked and he fucked her, she came violently without warning, her juices flowing freely.

In the maelstrom of intensity, she felt Hugh still, his cock pressed deep inside of her as his body shuddered in an echo of her orgasm. It was only then she found the ability to think once more as the sharp, arousing sting at her neck retracted.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, scrabbling away from her. “I got carried away.” He was so filled with lust that, at the height of his ecstasy, he had bitten and sucked her. She was like the finest wine. Her blood was the best he had ever tasted. He had to drag himself away from her. She was so good, it only took a few drops to satiate him, but he still wanted more.

“It’s okay. It’s only a love bite.” She reached up and touched the tender flesh, and Hugh saw surprise register on her face as she discovered blood on her fingertips. “Oh, my skin must be a bit thin,” she said.

Hugh pushed a handkerchief into her hand as he licked his lips and removed all traces of his mistake from them.

“I am sorry, Elizabeth. I shouldn’t have—”

“I enjoyed it,” she said. “I’ve never—well, not like that. I mean—oh I don’t know what I mean, but it was good, so good, for me anyway. Was it not so for you?”

Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, and he felt how unsure she was. He had hurt her, and as he struggled into his trousers, he tried to soothe her.

“It was good for me, Elizabeth. Better than good. I lost control for the first time in a long time. I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, it’s okay. There are worse things than a little bite given at the height of passion. I should be able to hide it okay. I don’t mind at all, really.”

He sighed. She didn’t understand and wouldn’t unless he explained, and he didn’t want to do that. He just smiled.

“Well, if you say so, my lady. I will stop apologising now. I’ll get you some blankets. You will have to sleep there, I think. I don’t think you’ll be able to get upstairs, but it’s late and you should sleep.” He shrugged on his jacket.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose so.”

He could see the disappointment in her eyes. He knew it sounded as if he were giving her the brush off, but what else could he do. If they had sex again, he might just rip out her jugular whilst at the height of passion. He could not let that happen.

 

Phew. Hot right? Here’s the blurb incase you’re interested in picking up The Point for yourself:

The PointLove conquers all, that is the point but can it bridge the differences between a vampire and a woman?

Hugh is twenty eight. He has been twenty eight for nearly one hundred years. Hugh is a vampire. He owns a club called The Point and he pays girls to have sex with him. He then counts to ten as he sucks their blood to semi-satisfy his lust.

Elizabeth is a doctor, she loves her job but likes to escape into the countryside now and then. When she twists her ankle Hugh comes to her aid. He carries her curvy form all the way back to his home. He takes care of her ankle and the rest of her body too but he goes too far and sucks her perfectly intoxicating blood.

How can these two lovers have any kind of relationship? They don’t know, only time will reveal the answers.

Pick up The Point  or check out all the books in the Point Vamp Series including  First Time Fang Bang an award winning short story you read for free!

*****

Victoria BlisseAuthor Bio:

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco, Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut events, days dedicated to erotica, fun and prizes. Check out http://smutters.co.uk  for more details.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

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

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse  and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse

To find out more check out http://victoriablisse.co.uk

*****

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When Darkness Comes Out To Play by Lisabet Sarai

thingsthatgohump300x200I’m thrilled to be here at K.D. Grace’s blog, helping her to celebrate Halloween and the relaunch of her Lakeland Witches trilogy.

When I was a child, I enjoyed All Hallow’s Eve more for the costumes than the candy. I loved becoming someone else – a gypsy, a gargoyle, a princess, a pirate – leaving my shy, awkward, bookish self behind for a few marvelous hours of night-time adventure. In our family, we scorned store-bought attire, sometimes working on our Halloween disguises for weeks before the big night. And on November 1st, as my brother and I tallied our sweet haul, we were already discussing who we’d be next year.

As I reached adulthood, Halloween for me became associated with sex. Okay, I’ll admit that during my twenties, sex colored pretty much everything in my life, but Halloween always seemed a particularly auspicious time for erotic encounters. The costume possibilities expanded to include slinky vamps and cat-women, scantily-attired genies and voluptuous she-demons. Halloween parties partook of some of the abandon of a Carnival masked ball. Leaving your mundane self behind for the night, you could also relinquish your inhibitions. Magic was afoot, kindling shadowy desire and promising fiery consummation.

What’s the essence of All Hallow’s Eve? It’s the night when darkness comes out to play. Each of us has a dark side, no matter how much we might like to pretend we don’t. Halloween calls to that side of our nature, luring it from the depths where we keep it hidden, tempting us to release it and revel in the chaos it might bring.

We externalize the darkness as ghouls and werewolves, specters and vampires. We find them fascinating, thrilling, not recognizing them as mirrors of our own lusts – for violence, for power, for pleasure. On Halloween, though, we’re moved to welcome darkness, at least for a time, to stop acting as though we’re one hundred percent civilized – to let our inner beasts howl.

Necessary MadnessI’ve played with darkness a bit in my erotic fiction. In my M/M paranormal Necessary Madness, my sorcerer-villain tries to steal my hero’s talent for prescience in a ritual of sex and blood, where he’ll excise his victim’s heart just as they both climax. In Rendezvous, the ghost of a nineteen fifties Lothario haunts the run-down motel room where he used to bring his conquests. Invisible and insubstantial, he still manages to teach the young woman stranded there about the pleasures to be found in pain. In The Eyes of Bast (coming from Totally Bound next March), my heroine Shana finds her own powers trying to save her cat-shifter lover from the vindictive witch who cursed him.

Although my M/M/F vampire ménage Fire in the Blood is set in sunny Jamaica, it has a shadowy tone that seems appropriate for Halloween. One reviewer called it “edgy, dark and smoking hot”. Anyway, I thought I’d share a bit from that tale to whet your appetite for the Halloween revels that will soon be here.

Oh, and if you leave a comment with your email, I’ll enter you in a drawing for a copy of the book.

 

Fire In The BloodIn the heart of darkness, eternal passion burns.

Maddy and Troy hope that a care-free vacation in tropical Jamaica will re-ignite the passion in their five-year relationship. On a scenic mountain trail, Maddy’s horse bolts and carries her deep into the jungle. Injured and lost, she is saved by a seductive giant of a man whose mere presence kindles unbearable lust. By the time she understands his dark nature, it is far to late for her to escape.

Bitter and alone, Etienne de Rémorcy haunts the forest around the ruined plantation of Fin d’Espoir. He has sworn to never again taste human blood, but when slender, raven-haired Madeleine begs him to take her, he cannot resist.

Troy is hugely relieved when Maddy makes her way back to their hotel after her ordeal in the mountains, but he finds her greatly changed—fiercely passionate in bed, restless and disturbed at other times. The tall, elegant stranger he meets on the beach hold the key to her transformation, and soon has seduced Troy as well. Even Etienne’s most potent magic can’t extinguish the fire in Troy’s and Madeleine’s blood.

 

Watch the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzVRy4LTQe0

 

Excerpt

Etienne dragged his belt from the loops of his dungarees. “Give me your hands,” he ordered. Madeleine held them out, palms turned upward in supplication. “I plan to bind you to ensure that you cannot escape me once we have begun. I will give you one more chance. Do you still want this?”

Maddy shivered, imagining herself restrained on the rough bed, powerless and at his mercy. Lust and fear warred in her body. Liquid dripped from her pussy, soaking the satiny robe bunched under her buttocks. She and Troy had played at bondage, silk scarves and velvet blindfolds. This was real.

She sought Etienne’s eyes, seeking reassurance. Fire flickered in the depths of those dark pools. His face was a beautiful mask that offered no solace. He gripped the belt in both hands, twisting as if testing it. “Et bien, Madeleine?”

She wanted it. She could not pretend otherwise. She wanted him, on any terms, wanted whatever he would do to her. Nothing mattered, not his terrifying strength, not his grim warnings, not the feeble image of Troy awaiting her back at the hotel. She reached for the bonds he offered. “Take me,” she whispered.

In an instant, he had slipped the end of the belt through the buckle and caught her wrists in the resulting loop. She felt the leather begin to bite into her skin as he pulled her arms above her head and a further tightness as he secured the other end to the metal bedstead. She tugged at the restraints, verifying the stark fact she could not, in fact, work herself free. Terror and arousal swept through her in alternating waves.

Her heart slammed against ribs. Her nipples and her clit throbbed with her pulse. Without being told, she spread her damp thighs. An oceany scent rose from her exposed pussy.

He shrugged off his vest and pushed his trousers down over his hips. Naked, he was even more formidable, his ebony thighs corded with muscle, his sculpted chest and flat belly gleaming like black marble. His erect cock sprang from the wiry thicket of his groin, on the same gigantic scale as the rest of his massive body.

The shaft looked thick as her wrist. Veins meandered along its endless dark length like creepers on a tree branch. The cap was dusky pink, taut, polished flesh that glistened with moisture.

Maddy moaned at the mere thought of that cock invading her. Saliva gathered in her mouth. “Etienne…” she pleaded, splaying her legs wider in lewd invitation. “Please…”

“Little harlot! Have you no shame?” Even as he chided her, however, the black giant climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs.

She expected ferocity, his power unleashed. She imagined him forcing that awe-inspiring cock deep into her body. Instead, he bent his head and flicked his tongue along the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee.

“Ah…” Pleasure rippled through her, converging on her pussy. He licked again, moving upward, painting her with his cool saliva. She squirmed under his mouth, wanting to feel those thick lips on her aching clit. Gradually, he came closer to her centre, yet still he lingered on her thighs, kissing, nibbling, lapping up the juices that spilled from her hungry, empty sex. She arched up, pushing her pelvis towards him. Without effort, without removing his mouth, he forced her back onto the bed.

He rasped his tongue over the gash she’d received during her wild ride through the forest. Pain sliced into her cocoon of pleasure. The rum had probably disinfected the cut, but her bath had prevented it from clotting. His touch made it throb. When he licked again, the pain intensified.

“Ow! What are you doing?” Etienne ignored her. It felt as though he was probing the wound with his tongue, opening it further. “Wait! Don’t…”

Without warning, there was a hand dabbling in the moist folds at the entrance to her sex. A bolt of pleasure seared her. A finger rocked her clit back and forth, making her shudder and moan. Her lust flooded back, washing away the pain. She felt an odd pulling sensation at the wound site, and her nipples responded, as though he were sucking on those sensitive nubs instead of her thigh. He pushed several fingers deep into her pussy. She clenched around him. Delight rippled out to her extremities as the pull of his mouth intensified. Now she felt the suction in her clit as well as her breasts. Her whole body trembled, balanced on the edge of release.

Etienne plunged what felt like his whole hand into her depths. Something sharp tore into the flesh of her thigh. Her climax hit her, as sudden as a breaking storm, thundering through her, scattering every thought in its wake.

Before she could recover, he was on top of her, his cock nudging against her still-quaking opening, his face inches from hers. His eyes glowed with a fierce, wild light. His lips stretched wide in a grimace of triumph, exposing the pointed teeth of an animal. Blood smeared those lips—her blood. Its rusty scent mingled with his aura of roses. She shuddered, even as her pussy wept tears of new desire.

“Do you still want me, cherie?” he growled. “Now that you know what I am?” He ground his rock-hard erection against the softness at her centre, striking sparks that burned away her fear.

“Yes,” she had time to whisper, before he fastened his gore-stained lips on hers.

 

RendezvousAbout Lisabet

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

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

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com). To get updates on her releases, contests and other news, join Lisabet’s List (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list).

*****

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Sweet Secrets by Constance Munday

Sweet SecretsWhat will happen when dark secrets threaten a perfect recipe for happiness and newfound love?

Left on her own, Carrie Ann decides it is time to escape her past, empower herself and overcome her confidence issues by turning her secret hobby of erotic cake design into a business. Her world is then turned upside down when she bumps into dynamic and sexy Dominic. Unwittingly, Carrie Ann sows the seeds of disaster from day one, weaving a web of deceit, and before she knows it the lies are multiplying.

As news of her baking brilliance spreads, romance grows. Now, only one thing can ruin their happiness and that is Carrie Ann’s dark deceptions and the battle she is fighting within herself. Will she be strong enough to overcome a past that is set to destroy her dreams for the future and tell Dominic the truth, or will she lose him forever?

Available from:
Totally Bound
Amazon UK
Amazon US

 

Excerpt

The sun warmed Carrie Ann Jude’s face as she glanced through the large plate glass windows of the airport. Planes rose into the sky like silver birds, their metal bodies transporting people all over the world on adventures. She tightened her grip on the straps of her handbag. She had been one of those people embarking on an adventure only two weeks ago, except her journey had not started just with feelings of excitement, but trepidation. She pushed her sunglasses up over her head and took out her paperback to flip through. It was hard to concentrate with so many thoughts dancing in her head.

Carrie Ann was so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed the stunning youth about to sit down beside her. Wanting to be alone and not have anyone invading her space, she’d put her large bag on the chair next to her. Before she could say anything, he’d had his hand on it and, much to her consternation, had dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor. Then, not giving her time to move out of the way, he dumped a considerably weighty backpack on her foot.

“Ouch. Watch it!” she cried out, as he bumped against her, slopping his coffee over her hand. “That was hot.” She angrily snapped her book closed, noticing spots of coffee marking the pages.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. Hi.” He had an American accent. “I ought to have asked if you minded if I sat here, but that’s me.”

She looked up to make a rude retort and found herself glaring into an impossibly green pair of eyes. She flushed. It was so embarrassing to be trapped by his compelling gaze.

“I’m so clumsy, everyone says it.” He held out his hand. “I’m truly sorry. My name’s Dominic, and you are…?”

How could she resist those eyes and his flirtatious expression? Carrie Ann took hold of his proffered hand and shook it unenthusiastically. “Carrie Ann.” What she could only describe as an electrical charge danced up her legs and ended with a pleasant fizz in the tips of her fingers and toes. He was very good-looking and his mop of shaggy blond hair that flopped into his face seemed to remind her of…

“Great.” He flashed her a grin. “I’m sorry. Let me get you another coffee.”

“No thanks, I don’t want one.” She was attempting to be more assertive, but it was harder than she’d thought. Actually, everything was so much harder out in the big wide world as she tried to cut ties to her past. Rommy, her father, so named because when he was younger he’d looked devilishy like a true Romany gypsy, had often criticised her for her submissive stance, which was ridiculous since that was what he’d wanted from her. The thought of him sent a creepy crawly shiver down her spine.

No one should feel like that about their father, but she did and she couldn’t help it. On occasion, she wondered if she would ever be able to get over him, shake loose all the hang-ups and phobias he had given her. It had not been abuse, but he had been good at keeping her under. She realised now she shouldn’t have put up with it for so long, she should have fought more for her independence when she’d had a chance to. But that was easier said than done.

The young guy hefted his bag and again knocked her. The nerve of it. She studied him angrily out of the corner of her eye. She had keen powers of observation—it was another one of the little skills she’d developed from being alone so long. Not having a lot to occupy her, she had become exceedingly observant. His arms were bare and muscular and covered in a frosting of tight blond hair. He also had strong, capable hands. Rommy would have said the man’s thighs were those of a rugby player. She had a thing about blond men, she reflected. Perhaps that was why she was instantly captivated by him. That came as a surprise and an interesting one, since anger and desire had a potent effect on her newly liberated self. It would be hard to be immune to his charms and it might be fun to test her boundaries yet again. She was woefully inexperienced with men. In a way, stepping out into the world was like learning to drive, and shy girls like her had to approach it slowly and cautiously and be prepared for any sudden unexpected turns in the road or emergency stops. She smiled to herself. She might have been confined to the house for years and had no experience of love first-hand, but she was living and breathing and had the same desires other women had.

For some reason she was shamefully hot and crossed her legs. It was utterly ridiculous being affected like this since Dominic was sexy and because of that was the kind of guy who wouldn’t flirt with her, well, not seriously. She tugged her skirt down over her knees. When she glanced up, he was watching her with a wry twist to his lips, as if he found her faintly amusing.

He gestured to the terminal board. “I guess you’re heading back to England.”

“Naturally,” she said. Carrie Ann wondered if she had a sticky label on her forehead, stamped ‘England’.

Nervousness made her feel hysterical. She would much prefer to be left alone with her thoughts, besides which it was distinctly embarrassing to have a man’s leg pressed against hers. He kept staring at her and she self-consciously stroked her lip. Why did he keep peering at her, like that? Besides the invisible label, there was nothing else that could make her seem even remotely interesting…was there?

At that moment a stunning girl strolled by and Dominic sized her up with interest, his gaze rippling up and down her from the tips of the high heels she was tottering in, to her layer-cut, multi-toned hair. Carrie Ann’s spirits sank further. She only had to dissect some of the women around her to realise she was at a distinct disadvantage where flirting was concerned. Let’s face it, she wasn’t even dressed for seduction. She was draped in her shabby comfortable skirt and she hadn’t even bothered with her appearance. As for what Rommy would have rather rudely termed ‘slap’—that was like attempting a recipe that was way out of her comfort zone. She’d only recently ventured down the makeup trail and she still didn’t like wearing it, although that might soon have to change, if her career plans took off. Makeup was weird stuff. It never looked right on her—the eyeshadow she’d tried made her dark brown eyes seem to retreat backwards so they seemed far too small, her freckles overwhelmed her complexion and her riotous mousy curls defied brushes, combs and tongs.

Any makeup she had used, she’d mistakenly plastered on to cover the freckles, and red lipstick—as Myra, the girl she had met at the ranch had pointed out—made her appear garish. Myra had given her a stick of lipstick termed nude and that did help, teamed with a tinted moisturiser. Myra was a brick, she thought grimly, pity she lived halfway across the world in Australia. She was also into baking, which had been a plus. It had been great to actually have a kindred spirit to talk with, to enthuse about her dreams to. Her heart soared and dipped. If anything was guaranteed to lift her spirits, it was the prospect of the new plans waiting for her when she got home.

“I don’t bite.” He touched her.

She jumped. He was smiling at her and trying to be funny by dipping his head and making puppy dog eyes at her.

She laughed, she couldn’t help it. “No, I guess not.”

He stretched out his long legs, settling back in his chair. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy what?”

“Your stay over here in the States. What were you doing? Was it business or pleasure?”

She was still guilty that she’d splurged a considerable amount of Rommy’s nestegg on the short holiday. It was the kind of thing her father, with his thrifty ways, would have termed profligate.

“All pleasure. Something trivial actually. I just had the Arlem experience.” She stared him in the eye, seeing if he got it or not. Most people knew about Arlem or they didn’t.

He broke into a grin. “Wow! You’re kidding. The Arlem experience, that’s way cool. I read about it in a Sunday supplement.” Brow creased, he seemed to be thinking.

“But that’s where the weird people go isn’t it? You a teacher? You don’t strike me as weird.”

She felt a short sharp violent stab of indignation. “The people at Arlem are lovely. They specialise in helping people. People with problems.”

“Yeah, but it’s mostly mental problems isn’t it?”

“Not always,” she snapped. Goodness, he had no tact whatsoever. “And no. I’m not a teacher, I was a visitor.”

He shrugged and looked away. It was as if he hadn’t noticed her sharp tone. “I’ve just been to visit my mother,” he explained. “She lives in California and he—my dad—still lives in England. After that ordeal, there were a few things I wanted to stop off and see here before I headed back. I don’t know why I come back to see her because it winds me up so much. Dad’s worse though, so it’s the lesser of two evils. In case you wondered. They’re divorced although it’s a sham since neither of them abide by the rules. They frequently visit one another to have passionate interludes.”

“Really.” Carrie Ann was intrigued, as in her estimation, romantic folk like that only seemed to exist between the pages of novels. “How modern of them. They must like it and be very much in love to be like that. To want the continual spice.”

He didn’t seem to have heard her. “It’s not like a divorce. It’s like playing at a divorce. In fact, I reckon you’re right. They rather like it. It seems to add something to their love life.”

“I think it’s romantic. Fancy still loving a person when you’re half a world apart.”

“Yes. Quaint. A grown-up kind of game. My father’s version of Viagra. I often wonder if that’s why I’m so messed up. It would be hard not to be, with two parents like that.”

Carrie Ann fell silent. Dominic didn’t look messed up. He seemed the most confident and together person she’d met. Besides being wickedly good-looking. Come on. You deserve a slap on the wrist. He’s so young for one thing. Let’s face it, there’s no way on earth a guy like him would ever want to date you.

 

About Constance Munday

Constance is nearly always to be found with a pencil in her hand making notes for a new story. She has led a varied life and done many jobs from cup washer, lecturer, to new age healer but has always written since she was a child.

A major health scare recently though, made her see life differently, and after years as a part-time writer, she turned full-time, because as she says – life is too short not to do what you love. She has literally climbed a mountain and made many sacrifices to pen her novels and now builds on a fund of wonderful encounters with intriguing people, plus her imagination, to write stories with strong characters and determined and adventurous women.

When asked what kind of genre is her favourite, romance is always the answer because to Constance, romance – whether hot and steamy or sweet and emotional is always at the heart of a good story. She hopes her stories reflect all of life’s facets from the struggling mother at home who finds a way out of poverty, the ardent and often disappointed dieter, to the girl who triumphs over sickness or has the courage to embrace her rather naughty side.

Constance loves listening to snatched conversations, which often gives her a seed to start a story, taking walks, revelling in the mysteries of life and baking and dancing, when she isn’t tapping away at her latest novel, of course.

She loves her fans and their comments, so invites you to please drop a line and if you have a second, pen a review.

Find Constance on: http://msnc62.wordpress.com/author/constancemundayromance/
Email: constancemundayromance@yahoo.co.uk
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Constance-Munday/1389544714601452?ref_type=bookmark

Letters to a War Zone by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Letters to a War ZoneBlurb:

When lonely insurance broker, Bailey, gets himself a new hobby, he ends up exchanging letters with a war zone. But he’s not expecting what happens next…

Bailey Hodgkiss is lonely and dissatisfied with his boring life as an insurance broker. In an attempt to insert some variety, he signs up to a website to write to serving soldiers. He’s put in touch with Corporal Nick Rock, and over the course of a couple of letters, the two of them strike up a friendship. They begin to divulge their secrets, including their preference for men.

Nick encourages Bailey to add more interests to his life. As a result, Bailey picks up his forgotten hobby, photography, and quickly decides to team it up with his other preferred interest, travel.

Booking a holiday to Rome is his biggest gesture towards a more exciting existence, and he eagerly looks forward to the trip. That is, until Nick says he’s coming home on leave, and it looks as though their respective trips will prevent them from meeting in person. Is there enough of a spark between them to push them to meet, or will their relationship remain on paper only?

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/letters-to-a-war-zone/

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20722128-letters-to-a-war-zone

*****

Excerpt:

After clicking all the available links on the website to find out more about it, Bailey decided to go ahead and sign up. He’d never know what it was really like unless he gave it a go.

He’d read about the site in an article somewhere, about how it linked people with serving soldiers, pilots, marines and sailors in order to write to them. It had been proven that receiving mail—even from someone they didn’t know—improved military morale. It sounded like a damn good use of time to Bailey, and it would be interesting, too.

He began typing his details into the online form. Of course, the chances were that he’d be paired up with a man, given the ratio of males to females in the forces. It didn’t matter, though. He could still exchange letters with a guy, become friends. It seemed like such an old-school way to communicate with someone, given how technology had come on over the years, but at least it was different. Perhaps it would give him something in his life to look forward to, something other than getting up, showering, going to work, coming home, eating, watching television and going to bed. The watching television—and even the eating—were occasionally replaced by nights out with friends or seeing family. Weekends were spent cleaning, washing clothes, gardening and odd jobs. Dull stuff, in other words.

He had an utterly mundane life, and Bailey knew it. It wasn’t even as if his job was exciting. Insurance broking was hardly thrilling, game-changing, or going to save the world. He didn’t expect having a pen pal to change his entire life, but it would certainly break the monotony. Hopefully.

He went through the various steps to fill in his details and create a profile, then continued right through to the information on actually writing and sending the letters. It looked straightforward enough.

His mind made up, Bailey immediately went in search of a pen, some nice paper and an envelope. Armed with a print out of exactly what to do when the letter was finished, he settled down at the kitchen table. Instantly, his mind went blank. What the fuck was he meant to say? He didn’t know any soldiers or other military personnel, didn’t know anything about their lives, other than there was a great deal more to it than shooting people and being shot at. His own existence was so fucking boring that he didn’t want to write about it. Unless there were any insomniacs in Afghanistan—telling them about his day would solve that particular condition right away.

After chewing on his biro until it broke, covering his lips and chin with ink, Bailey replaced it, resolving to try harder. He’d tell his pen pal the bare essentials about himself, then ask lots of questions about them and their work. That was bound to rustle up some conversation.

That decided, he began to write, absentmindedly swiping at his inky skin with a tissue. He’d have to scrub it off when he was done with the note. His wrist and hand had begun to ache before he was halfway down the page. He rolled his eyes. He sat on his arse at a desk all day, using a computer. As a result, even writing something short by hand was hard work! There was no way he was going to divulge that particular piece of information to someone that was willing to lay down their life to protect their country.

He just about managed to fill a single side of the A5-sized paper. And that was only because he’d formed large letters and spaced his words and lines out plenty. But he tried not to worry—at least he’d finished it, his first letter to a war zone.

He read through it carefully, relieved to find no mistakes. He’d forgotten how much more difficult—and messy—errors were on the written page. Computers let you edit and rewrite to your heart’s content. No correction fluid or crossings-out necessary.

Finally, he addressed the envelope. It felt like the longest address ever. The area and country was bad enough, even without including the soldier’s name and BFPO address. But it was done—Bailey Hodgkiss had penned a missive to Corporal Nick Rock, currently stationed at Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan.

Now he’d just have to post it and wait for a reply. The website had said his missive would take between one and three weeks to reach Corporal Rock. Then he had to allow for time for him to read it and send a reply. It could be around six weeks before he heard anything. If he heard anything at all.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, 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