New Release: Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Hurrah! I’m delighted to announce that Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by myself and Victoria Blisse, is now available. Here’s the skinny:

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

From the sun soaked beaches of Brazil to the altogether cooler coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 2 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Amusement arcades, beach houses, mermaids, honeymooners, shipwrecks, sex toys and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Contains stories from Victoria Blisse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Tamsin Flowers, Lucy Felthouse, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Bel Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, T C Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong.

And here’s an excerpt from my story, On the Big Wheel:

Brigit loved the seaside. She always had, probably because visiting it was a rarity. Living in the centre of England meant that even the nearest seaside town was over an hour and a half away—and the nice resorts even further.

Which was why her boyfriend, Allen, proposed a long weekend in Brighton. He knew how fond she was of the seaside. Unsurprisingly, she agreed delightedly.

“It’s a long way,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. We’d never go anywhere if we lamented the length of the journey.”

As it happened, the travelling wasn’t too bad. Miraculously the M1 was clear all the way down to the M25—and even that notorious motorway wasn’t experiencing its usual havoc. A straight shot south on the M23, then the A23 took them towards Brighton, and they navigated the one-way systems and lack of road signs and—eventually—found their hotel.

“Wow,” Brigit said, stretching luxuriously after getting out of the car, “that didn’t take as long as I thought. Shall we check in, dump our bags and go and explore?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Allen replied with a grin.

They slammed their respective car doors, grabbed the bags from the boot and headed into the hotel. Fifteen minutes later, after using the toilet and freshening up, they were back outside.

“Nice choice of hotel, babe. I like it.” Brigit said.

“I’m glad. I researched it well,” Allen replied.

“The bed looks nice and comfy.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to give it a decent road test later.” He winked at her, and got a slap on the arm for his trouble.

“You’ve got a one-track mind, you have.”

“Well, what do you expect when I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you?”

She giggled. “Charmer.”

“That’s me. Okay, now I’m back in good books,” Allen said, “what do you want to do? Now, I mean. Not at bedtime.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Brigit stuck her tongue out at him before replying. “I dunno. Just look around I guess. Get our bearings. See what there is to do around here.”

They walked hand-in-hand towards the seafront, then along it in the direction of the pier. They passed the burnt out shell of the West Pier, and Brigit wondered aloud whether it would ever be rebuilt or demolished. Or would the blackened skeleton be left there forevermore, a reminder of what once was.

Soon, they drew close to Brighton Pier. Brigit turned to Allen with a grin.

“What?” he said, then followed her almost manic gaze down the length of the pier, towards a building with fake turret-type things and some very real flags. He sighed. He couldn’t be sure from here, but he thought it was bound to be the amusement arcade. “Oh, you want to go in there, do you? I wonder why?” His voice was laden with sarcasm in his last sentence.

“You know damn well why. Come on!” Brigit tugged him along the last few metres of the pavement and onto the wooden slats of the pier. “Ooh, we can have fish and chips when we come out, if you want.”

Here’s more info and the buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-by-the-sea-volume-2/

I.J Miller’s Wuthering Nights

SEXY SPOTLIGHT INTERVIEW

of Author I.J. Miller

 

 

WSW: Welcome and please introduce yourself to our readers not familiar with your books.   

My name is I.J. Miller.  I have published five books of erotic fiction, usually categorized in the sub genre of literary erotica.

WSW: Have you always wanted to be an author? When did you have that ah-ha! moment?

In eleventh grade I took my first creative writing class.  That was the first time I started thinking writing, looking at people and situations as possible material for stories, formulizing observations about life that would give me something to say in my fiction.

WSW: If you weren’t writing romance novels, what would you be doing?

I also coach collegiate tennis.  Love the game.

WSW: If given the choice, would you write non-fiction? If yes, what would the topic be?

Prefer fiction.  But I do enjoy anecdotal pieces related to sports I’m active in (i.e. tennis, running).

WSW: How has your journey been so far in the world of publishing?

Quite a roller coaster ride.  Started out with my first novel published by St. Martin’s press, which included four printings in a Bantam paperback and two foreign translations.  Then three books with an independent press, which was frustrating because they weren’t getting read, although they do well in Germany.  Back with a major press, Grand Central Publishing, and it’s nice to have exposure again.

WSW: I can’t settle down to write without an iced caramel latte and music. What about you? Any weird writing quirks?   

I need to have my mind free and all other business taken care of before I start working: emails done, bills paid, dishes washed, phone calls completed.

WSW: Tell us about writing your latest release. Where did the inspiration come from?

My agent submitted a proposal I drafted to do an erotic retelling of a Dickens’ novel.  The publisher liked my writing and asked if I would do Wuthering Heights.  I readily agreed.  A great choice.  Perhaps the greatest love story every told, because it is a love that transcends mortal life, because of how intensely raw the main characters can be.

WSW: What was it about this story and its characters that you had to write it?

The original seems to have been written before all of the unwritten rules of heroes and heroines were in place.  Bronte pulls no punches and seems to write without self-censorship, willing to show how bad her characters are within their desire to be good.  There was an impulse to smooth them out for the modern reader, but, ultimately, I thought that would be an injustice to the original.  It was a great challenge, but the intense darkness of the story, during its search for light, made it very compelling.

WSW: What would you say were the hardest and easiest parts of writing this story?

What made it easy is that there was a story in place, with such well-defined characters.  What made it difficult was making sure I stayed true to the original language.  I also worked hard to make sure the eroticism fit in smoothly with the flow of the story.

WSW: When was the last time any of your characters made you blush?

Some of the sex scenes with Heathcliff just took off on their own.  He is such a passionate, dark soul and interpreting him erotically really brought out some intense domination scenes that surprised me…and my significant other who read the pages daily.

WSW: What’s the last book that made you cry?

OPEN HEART by Elie Wiesel.

WSW: What do you hope readers take away from your stories?

I hope they feel the passion.  I hope they seem themselves in parts of it.  I hope it makes them think about their own life.

WSW: What’s your favorite place in your entire house to write?

My home office.  Separate heating.  Nice and cozy.  I like to think my two cats and dog hang out there with me because they like keeping me company.  But it’s the heat.

WSW: What does sexy mean to you?

Sexy is confidence.  Sexy is an appeal to all aspects of one’s being: the five senses and, most significantly, one’s mind.

WSW: Do you come with any warning labels?

WUTHERING NIGHTS: as in the original, no punches pulled.  The intense eroticism brings out the rawness even more.  Stick with it.  It will take you on an unforgettable journey.

WSW: And finally, tell readers what other works you’ve got in store for us this year.

I’m working on a New Adult erotic romance for the 18-25 crowd called CELINE’S SOLUTION, about a college girl who gets her final, senior education from her young English professor who is both a master of passion and a troubled secretive soul.  Before she can know for sure whether she has found true love or needs to move on, she needs to unravel all of his mysteries.

 

About WUTHERING NIGHTS

Romantics everywhere have been enthralled by Emily Bronte’s classic novel of the tragic love between beautiful, spirited Catherine Earnshaw and dark, brooding Heathcliff. The restrained desire between these two star-crossed lovers has always smoldered on the page. And now it ignites into an uncontrollable blaze. In WUTHERING NIGHTS, writer I.J. Miller reimagines this timeless story to reveal the passion between Catherine and Heathcliff–in all its forbidden glory.

Set against the stark, raw beauty of the English moors, Heathcliff, an abandoned orphan, recognizes his soulmate in wild, impulsive Catherine, the only woman who can tame his self-destructive nature. And Catherine cannot deny the all-consuming desire she feels for him, despite his low birth. Together they engage in a fiery affair–one that will possess them, enslave them, and change their destinies forever…

 

EXCERPT: CHRISTMAS SCENE FROM WUTHERING NIGHTS

By I.J. Miller

 For Heathcliff, the pleasure was overwhelming, to be this close to his beloved, to be this intimate with someone he knew in every way, but this one. It was with great willpower that he resisted pulling her down besides him so they could be body to body, flesh to flesh. But, as was her bidding, he remained patient.

Ever so slowly, she inched her undershirt up, at first revealing her flat stomach, hardened from years of riding, then her glorious breasts, so full, erect, nearly pointing upward with the strength of her youth. Her areolas were a pale brown, dark only because of the whiteness of her flesh. They seem to hover over his face and he longed to suck them. However, he heeded her warnings.

Then, with the most titillating move he had ever seen, something that made the full fucking of Robert and Mrs. Linton look as passionate as one of the curate’s schoolbooks, Catherine stared him straight in the eye, pupil to pupil, and slowly, provocatively, inched her underskirt down. The gentle sway of each hip, from one side to the other, as she lowered it, made his cock grow to lengths that even he never imagined. Then before him was her womanhood, her bush thick and wild, hiding the treasure that was Catherine, so sweet, so dark it took the willpower equivalent to the strength of five men to keep him from leaning forward and kissing it, to keep from thanking his beloved for the gift, for the vision of her immaculate body.

Then, just as Heathcliff thought there could be no visual treats left, Catherine took the pins out of her hair, gave her neck a quick shake, and the full, dark curls tumbled to her shoulders.

“My love,” whispered Heathcliff.

“My darling,” whispered Catherine.

She allowed her hand to be taken this time and was brought to his side.

It was not by experience, but by incredible sensuous instinct that the pair continued this gentle lovemaking. Although almost everything on this night seemed like a first; they had locked inside them the wisdom of two beautiful creatures constructed for full carnal pleasure. Inspired by the feelings and tension between them that had been nurtured and grown since their childhood, their touch, their whispered expressions of love, their exchange of caresses and kisses held more power than any lightning in a storm.

Side by side, as equals, they kissed passionately. Without thought, their tongues escaped their mouths and entered the one opposite, touching, playing, caressing, as did their hands over each other’s bodies. It was as if neither had eaten, and the only meal that could satisfy this hunger was each other.

Heathcliff pushed Catherine to her back and began to lick and kiss her neck, tasting her. She arched her throat and moaned softly. He licked down while cupping her full breasts in his hands and began nuzzling and sucking her nipples. Catherine thrashed under him. “Heathcliff, my love, I missed you so much. Never leave me, please.”

“Never,” replied Heathcliff.

She ran her hands down the center of his back, contouring the thick muscles resting on each side of his spine. Although the room was chilled, they lay uncovered, sweating from the heat of their passion, conjoining the fluid of their perspiration, the moistness of their saliva when they kissed.

Heathcliff advanced his hands along her arms, caressed the insides of her wrists, delighted over her warm response. She ran her fingers down the crack of his ass, separated by hard muscle fleeced with dark hair and she felt him arch into her with pleasure, his enormous cock pressing against her thigh.

He kissed along her stomach, gentle at first, then licked with long strokes and her eyes closed and she grabbed a fistful of his hair. He licked along her inner thighs, quick flicks, then long dashes, like a painter with a brush.

As he neared her greatest source of pleasure with his mouth, she murmured, “Heathcliff, Heathcliff, Heathcliff, you are everything to me…”

With that he entered her warm pussy with his thick long tongue.

This did not take long, Catherine so energized from his touches, kisses, licks. For when he found the bump of her pleasure and took it into his mouth, held it there lightly with his teeth, and licked it unmercifully, she could do nothing but thrash and call out his name as he finished her off in a mix of explosive energy and stifled sound as she put a pillow over her mouth and came on his.

 

 

BIO FOR I.J. MILLER

I.J. Miller is the author of five, distinct, literary, erotic works of fiction: SEESAW was translated into two languages, with over 130,000 copies in print; WHIPPED appeared in both English and German; SEX AND LOVE, a collection of short stories, made its debut in the summer of 2011; CLIMBING THE STAIRS, a novella, was released just a year later.  His latest novel, WUTHERING NIGHTS, is an erotic retelling of Emily Bronte’s classic, Wuthering Heights, and is published by the Grand Central Publishing imprint of Hatchette Books.  It is available now as an e-book and will be in bookstores in trade paperback on April 23.  Miller has a Master of Fine Arts from the American Film Institute and has taught creative writing and screenwriting at the university level.

amazon link (In Paperback today):
http://www.amazon.com/Wuthering-Nights-Retelling-Heights-ebook/dp/B00AG0VMWO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1361918892&sr=1-1&keywords=i.j.+miller+wuthering+nights

Website: http://www.ijmiller.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Heathcliffian

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ij.miller.5

 

New Release: Gypsy Witch by Suz deMello

The Sacramento Sheriff’s Department is no place for airy-fairy wimps, and Ben McCullough is the toughest of the tough. He tells himself he’s bedding the luscious Elena Lautari only because she’s a babe, not because she’s a card-carrying member of the Northern California Church of Wicca. Ben thinks she’s a feather away from an arrest for fraud, since she makes a living telling fortunes and making charms for the lovelorn. He can’t see her as a lifelong mate even though she’s more than a match for him in the sack, and losing her is unthinkable.

But Elena is the real deal, a modern witch of much power and even more restraint. When her daughter, Gina, steals her mother’s spell book and uses it to shatter the fabric of existence and release an ancient evil, Elena must put reality back in place—even if she loses Ben in the process. Will Ben and Elena’s fragile love be lost with the revelation of her magic?

Maybe, but there are others ready to heal her battered heart. When Ben’s partner attempts to claim Elena, will Ben move aside or move in?

 

If you like what you read, click below to buy the story and check out the rest of Suzie’s sexy books:

https://www.ellorascave.com/author/suz-demello

*****

Author Bio:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift

She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

Coming Soon to an eReader Near You

Hi everyone,

I’m excited to announce the upcoming release of Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by myself and Victoria Blisse. Here’s the blurb:

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

From the sun soaked beaches of Brazil to the altogether cooler coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 2 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Amusement arcades, beach houses, mermaids, honeymooners, shipwrecks, sex toys and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Contains stories from Victoria Blisse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Tamsin Flowers, Lucy Felthouse, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Bel Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, T C Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong.

There’s more info here, and buy links will also be here when they become available.

You can also add the book to your Goodreads shelves here.

New Release: Beast in Me – Book 2 of the Divination Falls Trilogy by Sommer Marsden

Blurb:

Weather worker Cameron Bale rolls into Divination Falls after being prompted by Spirit and Brother Lighting. He discovers that the small, hidden town full of shifters and magical types is suffering a series of unsettling events. There’s speculation from the town seers that he could be the answer they’ve been looking for. Cameron’s willing to try and help: he’s got nowhere to go and nothing to lose. His life is simply about loneliness and it turns out that Trace, a grumpy wolf with stunning eyes, knows just what that feels like. Cam finds himself wishing maybe they could be alone … together. Oh yeah, and battle whatever evil it is that still lurks in Divination Falls.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

A dragonfly zipped past and Cam watched it go. What next? Bluebirds and butterflies and singing cartoon woodland animals? It was all too nice, too perfect … Surreal.

‘You OK?’ The voice was deep and dark and full of secrets. That was his first impression.

Cameron jumped, clutched at his pounding chest. Inside his heart was going berserk and he felt a little lightheaded with it.

‘I was. Jesus Christ, you scared me.’

Trace grinned with half his mouth. Somehow that little smirk made Cameron think of the big bad wolf. Made him flash back to that body sprawled, lean and powerful, over a small, lumpy bed. Made him remember one of those huge hands on a powerful, hard cock. He licked his lips.

‘Careful, lightning rider. I can smell your emotions.’ Then the wolf chuckled, bending to tie his work boot.

‘I – I’m sorry I spied on you.’ It was all Cameron could think to say.

Trace shrugged. Cameron watched his big shoulders flex with power. He was stunning with his huge body, big, fat attitude, and purple eyes. Just being so close to him made Cameron feel slow-witted and thick-tongued.

‘It was the most excitement I’ve had in ages,’ the wolf said and started to walk.

Cameron watched him go off, his heart sinking. He wanted the man to take his apology seriously. He also admitted to himself he wanted to be close to the wolf. There was no hope of anything happening between them. There was very little hope of anything happening for Cam with anyone. He’d come to terms with that long ago. But still, he could just be near Trace. Remembering the sight of his body and the sound of his voice just outside Cam’s barricaded bedroom door as he brought himself off.

Wolf at the door, he thought, and then shook it off.

Fifty feet away, Trace stopped, and Cameron felt his spine go rigid, his pulse pick up. The man turned to him and shielded his eyes from a bright beam of sunlight between the thick tree branches. ‘You gonna stand there all day admiring my ass, or are you coming?’

Cameron blinked, feeling a wild urge to laugh but pushing it away. ‘Yes! Right!’ he called, bouncing on his toes like one of those perky, hyper dogs. He blushed, but refused to let himself feel silly or embarrassed. He very much wanted to go along.

He hurried along the path until he was almost even with the wolf. Then Trace turned and continued to walk, Cameron right on his heels.

‘Why are you here?’ Trace asked.

The question stunned Cameron but he swallowed hard and tried to focus enough to answer. ‘Good question. I … work with weather. Lightning to be specific. I guess the best way to put it is I was nudged here.’

‘Like with voltage?’ Trace asked with a gruff laugh.

‘Yeah. Sadly, I do get nudged with voltage.’

The wolf turned those deep purple eyes on Cameron and said, ‘What for? What’s here?’

How did eyes get that colour? Cam wondered. Had he been born with them or was it a shifter thing? He had no idea; all he knew was they were the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen. And they were attached to one of the most amazing bodies he’d ever seen.

Trace cocked his head, giving a half grin. ‘Hello?’

‘Sorry! I was just looking –’ He flushed, caught in the act. ‘Your eyes, they’re amazing.’

That closed the bigger man down. He’d had a nice amused and open expression on his handsome face and that fast, it shut down like someone turning the lights off in an empty house. ‘Thanks. I guess. They’re the product of a very bad infection when I was a kid.’ He turned on his heels and kept walking without further explanation.

Cameron had to force himself to swallow. He had just complimented the first man he’d lusted after in goodness knew how many years on some sort of mutation? Something that clearly upset him when discussed. Good going, dumbass!

Cameron hurried along the patch, ducking reaching branches and praying there was no poison ivy to be found here in Divination Falls. ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t know. And I don’t know what’s here. Or why I am,’ he gasped, finally catching up.

The wolf shrugged. He shot Cameron a sideways glance and said, ‘Why would you know what’s here?’ He stopped fast and Cam found himself almost crying out from the sudden shift in motion. ‘As for why you’re here, how could you not know that?’

‘I never really know until it’s revealed,’ Cameron said. He kept his gaze pinned at Trace’s chin so he wouldn’t get mesmerized by those stunning eyes that clearly upset the custodian.

‘Was it me, maybe?’ Trace asked, his lips twisting into a grin. ‘Was it secretly watching me jack off? Was that your big mission?’ He took a step toward Cameron which forced the lightning rider to step back. Or get crushed against an angry wolf.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cam breathed. ‘It wasn’t my intention and then I couldn’t …’ He shook his head. His skin was tingling and he wondered if he was going to get struck. Or worse yet, if Trace would strike him. ‘You might want to step back,’ he said without thinking.

‘Why is that?’ the wolf asked, taking a step forward. ‘Am I invading your space?’

‘I get it,’ Cam stammered. ‘I invaded your privacy. I’m no better than a pervert. I know! But you could get …’

The wind kicked up. It often did when he was frightened or excited and his blood leapt in his veins and his heart beat fast with arousal. His last lover had been zinged by energy one too many times and when some of his hair had actually caught fire, he’d bailed. Calling Cameron a freak in the process. Cam wasn’t up for either Trace being hurt or thinking him a freak.

‘I might get what? And it’s OK – you invaded my privacy, now give me an excuse to invade yours.’ He pushed his face closer and Cameron caught a flickering of animal shine in the man’s eyes. They turned golden around the very iris and a fast, steady pulse beat at the base of Trace’s neck. When he took Cameron’s wrist in his big hand and squeezed, Cam felt the air rush out of him. His cock pressed eagerly to his jeans and he tried his best to focus on something – anything! – besides the wolf so maybe his hard-on would abate. No such luck because Trace took his warm hand and very briefly cupped the evidence of arousal in Cam’s pants. ‘Looks like you’re still a bit worked up from last night.’

‘You were watching me in wolf form.’

‘I was.’

‘You heard me.’ It wasn’t a question. Very briefly, Cam wished for Trace to put his hand back. To touch him.

‘I did. I also smelled you and tasted you on the wind. Do you know when you come your breath does this shuddery little sigh thing?’

‘No.’

‘Well, it does.’

*****

Bio:

Sommer Marsden’s been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen),and “Erotica royalty…” (Lucy Felthouse).

Her erotic novels include Restless Spirit, Boys Next Door, Big Bad, Learning to Drown, Wanderlust and the Zombie Exterminator series. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora’s Cave, Pretty Things Press, Resplendence Publishing and Mischief Books. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer’s short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines–both in print and online.

Links:
Blog: http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/sommer_marsden
Facebook: http://facebook.com/sommermarsden
Twitter: @sommer_marsden
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/sommermarsden

New Release: The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

THE PHALLUS OF OSIRIS

VALENTINA CILESCU

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com

Death and Lust and Vampires!

The Master is a sex vampire. His aim: to dominate through the glories of the flesh. His minions are beautiful and lascivious and their eager bodies and warped minds are bent to his evil purpose. The lost Phallus of Osiris is the greatest erotic talisman known to man and the Master will not rest until he has it in his possession. Just one woman can help him fulfil his dark ambitions – the one person who still resists him. Mara, the white witch. Great though the Master’s power is – in Mara, and The Phallus of Osiris, he may have met his match.

*****

Excerpt:

It was dark in the room. Dark and strangely airless. But Mara felt no fear. She stretched out her hand and touched her unseen lover’s hand. Although she could not see him, she knew he was standing by the side of the bed; that he was naked, and ready for her . . .

‘Come to me . . .’ breathed Mara. And her fingers moved from her lover’s hand to explore his body – running down his flank, his thigh; searching eagerly for the warm weight of his testicles; seeking out his most sensitive and intimate places to tease and excite his flesh; and bring him to her.

She heard his breathing: hoarse and quickening now. And seconds later, she felt him sit down on the bed beside her, felt the soft coverings yield to his weight as he lay down by her side and pressed his hot nakedness up against her willing flesh.

He was by her side now, stroking her with knowing fingers that seemed to read her mind, divine her every dream and wish. His fingers slid down her body, as though taking the measure of her, mapping out the fullest extent of the bounty offered to them. They fluttered like butterfly wings, up from the firm roundness of her hips to the taut flesh of her tiny waist, and then up still further; until at last they found the swelling amplitude of her magnificent breasts, caressing their firmness appreciatively.

He was kneeling beside her: leaning over her, the better to toy with her. Mara gasped with pleasure as invisible hands cupped her breasts and kneaded their warm and yielding flesh. Skilled fingers searched out the budding hardness of her nipples and pinched them between finger and thumb, just hard enough to provoke an irresistible blend of pain and pleasure.

‘Take me!’ gasped Mara, reaching up and touching the hands which were so knowingly exploring her body. They were strong hands, hands she felt she knew well; hands that were strong and sinewy and capable of great violence – and yet gentle enough to tease, torment, arouse.

Strong, sinewy wrists and forearms . . . She could reach no further; so she stretched out her hand to the side, and felt for the body of her unseen lover. Her hand made contact with his thigh, muscular and covered with thick, coarse hair. She slid her hand upwards, upwards, letting her fingers glide softly over the hairs; and she felt her lover tremble at the exquisite torment of her touch. Bolder now, she let her hand move higher still, and shivered with delight as her fingers brushed against her lover’s testicles.

They were heavy, vital, pulsating with a raw energy that communicated itself to her as she stroked their velvety pouch, weighing them in her palm. Then she let her fingers stray still further, and felt them slide deliriously along the smooth length of a hard and throbbing shaft that she knew yearned to bury itself in her.

And as she stroked it, she felt herself grow hotter and wetter, her juices welling up as though from some secret spring deep within her. It was as though she was melting from the inside outwards, as butter might melt in anticipation of the hot knife that would soon plough into its soft and willing depths . . .

The room was filled now with the fragrance of sex; the sweet, heady aroma of a cunt well greased, of a prick whose tip glistens with the first drops of semen, the first promise of the torrents to come. Mara slid her hand along her lover’s shaft and ran her fingertips gently over its tip: it was already slippery with love-juice and she shivered again with the delicious anticipation of its entry into her most intimate places.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

• The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
• Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
• The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
• Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
• The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
• The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
• Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
• The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
• Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
• The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
• Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
• 3 by Julie Hilden
• Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
• Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
• Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
• The Agency by David Meltzer
• Burn by Michael Perkins
• Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
• Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
• Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
• Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Guest Blogger: A. M. Griffin with Dangerously Mine

 

 

One important tidbit I would like readers to walk away with after reading Dangerously Mine is that there will be other stories to this particular series. When I had the original concept for Dangerously Mine I knew, even before typing a single word, that there would be many sequels to this story. In Dangerously Mine, readers are introduced to the beginning of the end of life as we know it on Earth. We learn how and who invades Earth and we experience one woman’s plight to find her way after a traumatic life-altering event.

In the follow-up (no name as of yet), which is completed, we follow another human’s plight. Kane Epps finds himself as a space pirate after escaping servitude. Eva and Taio make a cameo in this story. You’ll have to wait to find out how and why though (no spoiler alerts here).

Currently, I’m working simultaneously on three more follow-ups to Dangerously Mine. I don’t know why I started them all at the same time, but so far it seems to be working. In the follow-ups, we’ll follow Jess and JB, both characters from the second book and Allysan, Eva’s best friend that we meet in Dangerously Mine.

I hope to have all of the follow-ups completed and out by the end of 2013. I don’t know what 2014 has planned for my characters but I know something big and wonderful!

 

 

Blurb:

After aliens invade and conquer Earth, Eva is transported to a distant slave trading planet. Escape and freedom are her only priority, but none of her martial arts training prepared her for what she faces. She finds herself enslaved to the warrior King Taio. Eva’s drawn to this sexy alien male who ignites her heart and body.

Taio is disgusted with the idea of owning a slave—until now. From the moment he sees her, he knows Eva is his for the taking. Torn between lust and duty, Taio knows nothing will stop him from protecting his little warrior.

 

 

Excerpt:

 

The awful stench coming from her was embarrassing. Eva Smith sniffed under her arms.

Yep, I can raise the dead.

The jeans she had on were faded and torn. She had on a t-shirt with a picture of the cartoon characters Orangey and Purple, taken from a scene of one of their Internet webisodes. Even that was no more than tattered rags now. She could only imagine the cartoon characters saying about her stench, “Gurrl, you stink!”

The whole reason she volunteered for night watch, again, was to get a break from the stench. The smell from fifteen people who hadn’t had a bath in a week was nauseating to say the least.

Eva crouched on a tree branch twenty feet above the forest floor. Years as a martial artist gave her the strength and agility to scale the tree with ease. But now, after hours in the same position, her muscles ached. With one arm hugging the tree for stability, she used the other to punch on the cramp that had formed in her thigh.

She scanned the horizon of clustered trees, looking for camp. Although she couldn’t see them, she knew they were there, hiding beneath the canopied covering of the lush trees. Her constant companion, Allysan, sat in the tree opposite of hers. Ally didn’t dare come closer and even joked that their combined stench would melt the forest surrounding them. Her legs hung underneath her as she hummed Sun and Moon by Duk Duk Goose, her favorite Afro-Punk band from New York. The song was appropriate. Because of the enormous spacecraft in the sky, she had not seen either in a while.

Although this wasn’t Ally’s night to keep watch, she was here to kill the boredom. Eva didn’t mind. She welcomed the company of her new friend, especially tonight. The forest seemed weird. Strange. She couldn’t put her finger on it.

Her senses had been on high alert ever since the aliens came. Her neighbors had been delusional about their arrival. But Eva knew better. While they were busy making “Welcome to Earth” signs, she’d cowered in her barricaded apartment.

Why had they come to Earth? She didn’t have a clue, but she had seen enough sci-fi movies to know this would end badly. These extra-terrestrials didn’t want to “phone home”.

They arrived in shiny metallic spacecrafts that sat low in the sky in every major city around the world. As big as small cities, their crafts blocked the sun, forcing residents to live in perpetual darkness.

In less than a week, they’d leveled countries, toppled governments, disrupted communication and swatted the world’s most powerful super-nations’ military forces down as though they were nothing but pesky flies. All hell broke loose.

Eva had been right, hostile aliens had invaded Earth. Humans weren’t prepared for the fight and were losing the battle. Unfortunately, “I told you so” didn’t seem appropriate.

That had all happened about three months ago. Or had it been two? No matter, she thought, shaking her head. The small pocket-sized calendar had been lost a long time ago. There was something about running from aliens that made a person decide fast what items were important. The calendar, along with her comb, toothbrush and soap, was long gone.

It was easy enough to pull her jet-black hair back into a bun and scrub her teeth with leaves, but there wasn’t an alternative for soap. Yuck. Despite soaking in the stream two miles north of camp just yesterday, Eva still felt the fine film of dirt covering her olive-toned skin.

Besides Ally’s soft humming, the night was quiet, no signs of nightlife, no owls hooting, no raccoons scavenging, not even a bat in the sky.

That was her first clue that things were about to turn ugly.

“Something’s off.” Eva scanned the dark horizon. She, along with the others with her, had fled the cities after the initial attack. No one knew why the aliens invaded Earth. Some speculated they were here to enslave humans—or eat them. At this point, it didn’t matter.

Survival was the key.

Ally straightened her back and focused her gaze on the skies. “Yeah, I feel it too.”

“Go check on everyone. I don’t like this feeling.” Eva felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Ally nodded once, scaled down the tree and ran. Eva watched as Ally bounded through the underbrush until her back disappeared in the darkness. Only then did Eva look back to the blackened sky. Something was definitely up.

A familiar low hum filled the still night. Craft.

Far on the horizon, a small, metallic craft shot through the sky.

“Shit.” She climbed down a few branches.

Too slow.

She scurried faster. Five feet from the ground, she jumped. As her feet hit the dirt and grass, she took off running through the trees to camp, ducking under the low-hanging branches.

As she ran, she could hear her heavy breathing, dried leaves and sticks crunching under her fast-paced feet and the increasingly louder hum of a craft whizzing through the air. It was gaining on her.

“They’re coming! They’re coming! Take cover!” she yelled. Eva prayed her voice would carry over the loud roar of the craft that now followed close behind.

At the whistle of the craft cutting through the wind above her head, she dove into a thicket of high weeds. She buried her face in the dirt and covered her head and ears with her hands. The noise moved past her.

Too close.

Her heart slammed in her chest as she jumped up and sprinted to camp. She couldn’t leave them. If the craft was taking them, she had to try to help anyone she could.

Whiz, boom! The ground shook underneath her feet. Whiz, boom! She skidded to a halt. Dirt and grass flew at her, erupting from the ground.

Whiz, boom! She shielded her face with her hands. The dirt and rocks pelted her, piercing her skin.

Bombs.

The impact deafened her ears. Her hands left her eyes and covered her ringing ears. She watched the confusion unfolding in front of her. Blood, skin and body parts were scattered everywhere. Eva looked in horror as most of those who had, in those short months, become dear friends hung dead from tree limbs. A panicked frenzy consumed the bloody and confused survivors.

Hands grabbed her arms tightly, biting into her flesh, shaking her. Her eyes moved to Ally. Tears ran down her cheeks as her mouth moved. What is she saying? Eva struggled to understand her.

A bright glow of orange light flickered in the corner of her eye. Her head turned in slow motion toward it.

Her eyes finally focused. Fire.

That was enough to snap her out of her stunned daze. “Stick together!” Eva screamed. Panic engulfed those around her. Just as the skittish prey that they were, they spoke all at once, darting in different directions.

“That way!” Eva pointed to the small area free of the rapidly encroaching flames. “Come on!”

Eva made a break for the trees before flames blocked their way. No time to waste. If they stayed where they were, they would surely burn to death. Or worse, get captured. She ran through the small opening with Ally on her heels. She hoped everyone else either heard her command or saw the direction they were heading.

Whiz, boom! Ten feet in front of them, the ground shook. Chunks of dirt flew skyward. Shit! Eva made a hard left. They needed to avoid the flames quickly overtaking the trees and underbrush.

Whiz, boom! Her ears popped, debris pelting her right cheek. Straight, she needed to keep straight. The sounds of her heavy breathing did nothing to block out the screams. Don’t turn around.  Lead them to safety!

Her wild eyes spotting the opening in a clearing in front of her, she skidded and took a hard left. Avoid the clearing. They wouldn’t stand a chance out in the open.

Whiz, boom! Shit. The ground in front of her erupted in a hail of dirt, rocks and grass. The impact knocked her to her back. Without thinking, she scrambled to her feet and ran straight into the clearing.

Damn.

The larger craft sat fifty feet in front of them, metallic and shiny with the square door open and a ramp extending from it to the ground. Immediately, she turned around to go back.

“Turn around! Not this way, turn around!” Everyone behind her trampled into the clearing as she tried to push back the way she had come.

No one heeded her warning. “This is all wrong, we need to get out of here,” she repeated frantically.

They had been herded.

A monstrous alien with green, scaly skin appeared, towering over her. His yellow eyes with reptilian slits rested on the panicked crowd. He opened his mouth, revealing two-inch long, razor-sharp teeth, dripping saliva.

“We are the Loconuist.”

“No!”

 

Enjoy! Griffin

 

 

 

Author Bio:

 

A.M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.

 

Now available from Ellora’s Cave – http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10561-dangerously-mine.aspx

You can find out what else I’m working on by visiting: http://www.amgriffinbooks.com

Like my FaceBook page! http://www.facebook.com/amgriffinbooks

Follow me on Twitter! https://twitter.com/AMGriffinbooks

Cover Reveal/Giveaway with J. C. Reed

Surrender Your Love

Release date: March 15th, 2013

Meeting Jett was like lightning. Dangerous. Better left untouched. And better forgotten. But lightning always strikes twice.

 

Brooke Stewart, a realtor in New York, doesn’t do relationships. When she’s sent to a remote estate to finalize a real estate deal, she discovers her new boss is no other than the guy she left naked in bed.

 

Sexy, dangerously handsome, and arrogant Jett Mayfield attracts trouble, and women, like a lightning rod. But the night he meets Brooke he gets more than he bargained for. The green-eyed millionaire playboy isn’t used to taking no for an answer, and he isn’t about to start now.

 

When he proposes two months of no strings sex, Brooke is intrigued and accepts his proposal. Little does she know Jett’s determined to claim the one woman he can’t have, pulling her deeper into his dangerous world.

 

A man who doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

A woman afraid to surrender to love.

Two lives that are about to cross…and secrets laid bare.

 

Rafflecopter Giveaway for $50 GC

Author links:

http://jcreedauthor.blogspot.com

http://twitter.com/jcreedauthor

http://www.facebook.com/pages/JC-Reed/295864860535849

New Release: Smut for Chocoholics

I’m very excited to announce Smut for Chocoholics, which was edited by Kevin Mitnik, and contains my story, Not Just Desserts.

Sensual, sinful chocolately indulgence  is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Kevin Mitnik, with assistance from Victoria Blisse.

Smut for Chocoholics is all about indulgence, taking wicked delight in the erotic consumption and use of chocolate, with tales from some of erotica’s finest authors.. Whatever your relationship with the seductive cocoa, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Contains tales from Victoria Blisse, Giselle Renarde, Lexie Bay, Annabeth Leong, Lily Harlem, Violet Fields, Nicole Gestalt, Tamsin Flowers, Tenille Brown, Vanessa de Sade, Wendi Zwaduk and Lucy Felthouse.

And here’s an excerpt from my story:

Hilary left the pub feeling downcast. It was the second time she’d been in that week—dressed to the nines—and still he’d barely noticed her. Aside from cleaning her table when all the waiting-on staff were busy, and saying “Thanks! Good night” as she left, he’d paid her little attention. It was clear that her tight clothes, bold eye contact and wicked smiles were not getting through to him. Despite her best efforts, he still saw her as just another customer. It spoke volumes for his commendable professional attitude, but showed that his sex radar was way off. She’d been making it blatantly obvious she fancied him for months, and yet…  nothing.

Of course, it could just be that he didn’t find her attractive and was therefore ignoring her advances. But on the occasions where they did exchange a few words or a glance, she was sure there was a flicker of interest there. And she wasn’t going to stop until she found out one way or the other. But how could she get—and retain—his attention for long enough?

The question troubled her over the next few days. There were answers—obvious ones—but they weren’t right for her. She couldn’t give him a note, or leave one on the table, with her phone number on it. That would be supremely embarrassing. Plus there was a chance that it could fall into the wrong hands—she’d noticed the sleazy waiter eyeing her up a few times. She supposed she could ask to speak to the manager—he didn’t wear a name badge, so she didn’t know what his name was—as if to complain about something. But she’d seen people do it before. They had the conversation right there at the table, or across the bar, for everyone to hear. Not in a private place, like his office. There was no way in hell she was going to try and chat him up with people eavesdropping on them.

Bollocks. What the hell could she do? She’d been checking him out for quite some time now—his firm-looking arse, slim hips, bright blue eyes and smile to die for. He even had dimples—one of her weaknesses. He was seriously sexy. And that was before you even took into consideration his work attire. The rest of the staff wore black trousers and a uniform t-shirt with the pub’s logo emblazoned on it. He too, wore black trousers—which were not so tight as to be obscene, but tight enough to give the perfect view of his rear end—and a smart white shirt. Hilary was a sucker for a white shirt, too. Thankfully she didn’t go to too many funerals—crushing on someone while at a church service or burial would be wildly inappropriate.

The perfect plan finally came to her just as she was nodding off to sleep a couple of nights later. It was so fantastic that she sat up in bed, excitedly wondering when she could execute her idea. And what she would wear while she did it.

Sound like your cup of cocoa? *sniggers* Grab your copy here.

Guest Blogger: Kyoko Church

Hello ladies! Thank you for having me to your blog today. It’s wonderful to be surrounded by so much sexiness!

To finish my tour I want to talk about something I’m starting to feel more and more strongly about in a sexual context. That is, turning a negative into a positive. We all know in life it’s good to be the kind of person to make the proverbial lemons into lemonade. This can be the case with regard to sex and sexual hang ups too. People can recover from shame, learn to accept themselves and their kinks and even turn the shame from it into a kink itself!

I know of a few ways that this has happened for people, like it does for my character subPaul in For Her Pleasure. And I’m interested in hearing more! It’s part of the reason I’m contributing to an anthology on the topic. Hopefully my submission will be successful. In the meantime, if you find this topic interesting, arousing or amusing, I hope you’ll check out my book. And let me know what you think!

*****

Excerpt:

As instructed, he knelt on the floor of her office in front of her. At her feet.

He’d barely caught a glimpse of her before he prostrated himself. His position did, though, afford him the ability to look closely at her choice of foot wear. Heels again. Perhaps she always wore heels to work. Today they were a hounds tooth pattern with black spiked heels, again open toed, with a little black bow going across the top, underlining the very small opening. God, the way he could see just the tiniest bit of two toes drove him crazy! He imagined himself on his hands and knees, cramming his tongue into that tiny space. His cock shifted in his pants.

She pulled out a box from her desk drawer. It was about the size of his fist and it was gift wrapped. Automatically he reached up to take it but she pulled it back a bit.

‘Ah, ah, ahh,’ she said. ‘Not quite so fast. If you read my email thoroughly, I believe you have something to say first?’

Suddenly it was hard to breathe. It was hot. He knew what he had to say, what she wanted him to say. And yet it seemed impossible to say it. He could barely form the words in his mind, much less have them pass over his lips.

‘Aw, are you having a hard time, love?’ she said. ‘How about I help you along. Why are you here?’

He swallowed. ‘You, um, said you would help me.’

‘I did say that, yes. And now, what is it again you need help with?’

Oh god. She knew what. He knew what. He knew she knew. Why was she making him say it?

‘I uh, I sometimes have a little trouble … lasting.’ He paused. ‘You know, sexually.’

She stared at him a moment. Blinked. ‘Sweetie, I hope you’re not intentionally being obtuse. Or maybe you just didn’t read my email carefully enough. Which is also disappointing because I put a lot of care into my correspondence and I expect close attention to the details in return. If you want me to work with you on fixing this then I am going to need more willing cooperation going forward. Do we understand each other?’

His pulse was racing. Was she chastising him? She was. He was at her feet, she was lecturing him, his heart was slamming in his chest and it was making his cock so hard. His brain was a jumble. Fuck.

‘Yes. Yes, I think so.’

She sighed. ‘No, I don’t think so. That answer alone proves otherwise.’ She walked over to her desk, put the gift wrapped box on top of it and turned to him, crossing her arms delicately over her ample chest. ‘I am going to help you out and remind you of a few things this time, because I understand that you are learning. But for next time just keep in mind that I am not normally so lenient.’ She paused and walked back over to where he knelt. ‘You are to address me as Mistress or Miss or Ma’am.’

He did remember that. Her use of those words combined with how she addressed him – sweetie, love – could not help but call to mind the portion of her presentation that he knew she would be doing this very afternoon at X Architects on how the use of diminutive names in a workplace setting can cause offense or humiliation to an employee. Did he feel offended? Definitely not. Humiliated? Yes. God, yes. In the best way, yes.

However, when he first read what she wanted him to call her he just felt ridiculous actually saying it. But now there were her eyes. One look into the depths of those fiery, dazzling eyes and somehow it seemed anything but ridiculous. Somehow it seemed totally and completely right.

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘Better. Now I told you specifically what words to use to describe your problem.’ A beat. ‘Didn’t I?’

He looked down. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘Look at me.’ He obeyed. ‘I know this is hard for you. But this is your one chance.’ She bent down and put her face close to his. ‘You need to say it. And you need to say it now. And if you can’t,’ she looked at him so hard right then, so hard he felt it all the way through him, felt her glare zinging all through his body, making it pulse and almost vibrate. ‘Then you can just get up off my floor, turn around and go back to your self-imposed prison.’

Oh. Oh! She understood. If there was any doubt before there was none now. This was it. She was right. He had to. He had to say it.

‘I –’ he started, and he didn’t think he could. But her eyes. Again, her eyes. They were not stern now. They were compelling, willing him to speak.

‘I suffer from … premature ejaculation.’ The last two words spilled out of him, like a sigh, like a waterfall, like an exhale. He waited for something horrible to happen now that it was out there. In the room. In the world.

But, of course, there was nothing. Nothing like that.

What there was, was her.

‘Well, sweetie,’ she said, placing a slim finger under his chin and raising his gaze to meet hers. ‘That was well done.’ She smiled lovingly at him. ‘There’s just one last thing. If you want my help you need to agree to obey me. To submit to me. Always. Do you agree?’

He hesitated a moment. Only a moment while he thought of words like inappropriate, vulgar, reprisal, lawsuit. But he cast those aside. Cast them all aside because all he could think of now was what she said about his self-imposed prison. And how he couldn’t go back to it.

‘I do.’

And he was rewarded with another one of those heart crushingly sexy smiles.

She walked back to her desk, picked up the box and handed it to him. ‘Let’s move to the couch while you open your present, shall we?’

His heart hammered in his chest as he sat beside her. She was giving him a gift! What could it possibly be?

He opened it and immediately was puzzled. What at first glance appeared to be a watch, he could see after a second, was not.

‘I know it doesn’t seem so, but it was actually very expensive. It’s vintage, you know. They don’t seem to make them anymore.’

He continued staring. The numbers around the edge going up to 60. The two hands, one bigger and red, the other smaller and black. The two silver buttons on the side.

It was a small stopwatch. With a wrist strap.

His heart pounded harder, although he still wasn’t quite sure why. He looked up at her, not knowing what to say.

‘Aw, you’re confused, aren’t you darling? Well don’t worry. I’ll explain it to you.’ As she spoke she took the gift out of the box, took off his own regular watch and began strapping this new one on his left wrist. ‘This is your collar. It has two purposes. One is as a visual reminder. Your cock belongs to me. When you see your watch throughout the day, I want you to repeat that in your head. My cock belongs to Mistress. Say it now.’

‘My, my … cock belongs to Mistress,’ he stammered as she finished strapping on the watch. She turned his wrist over and they both stared at it.

‘And since your cock belongs to me, I get to say when you come.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I have the feeling you come way too often.’ The last three words came out like daggers, each one landing – thwack! – right into him, making him burn bright with shame. ‘Am I right? Was I right in my email when I said you like to jerk it in the shower? Did you do it in the shower this morning, love? Be a good boy. Be honest.’

‘Yes, Mistress,’ he said. Then a little shakily, ‘And in bed last night.’

She put her face into a pantomime of horror. ‘Why you horny little wanking pervert! In my office, in bed at night, in the shower this morning. God, you really need to learn to control yourself.’ He winced and squirmed. Her chastising words buried their way into his humiliated heart. ‘And since it seems perfectly obvious that you can’t, then I will.’ Oh no. No, no. ‘Your first rule of submission to me is this: No coming unless I expressly allow it.’ Shit. ‘Do you understand?’

It’s no big deal, he told himself. Except, oh god, he enjoyed it. He wriggled and squirmed at the realization of how much. He needed it. Frankly, to not have that release scared the fuck out of him. And yet.

He nodded. ‘And I don’t see my allowing it happening any time in the foreseeable future.’ Oh good god, what had he gotten in to? ‘OK, sweetie?’ Her smile returned.

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘Very good,’ she said. ‘The second purpose of your gift is with regard to time. Time is your issue, isn’t it? Or rather, timing. So this stopwatch is perfect. Because your submission will be a lot about timing. As in, timing you.’ She pressed the top button. Tiny ticking noises burst from his wrist as the red hand glided smoothly around the dial.

Oh god. GOD! His face burned bright, the hottest it ever felt. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her and he couldn’t stop his mind from racing to picture himself doing – god knows what! – while that ticking measured his performance. Or lack thereof.

She chuckled as she watched the realization dawning on his face. ‘Oh sweetie, your face is priceless. Honestly!’ She sat back on the couch and smiled. ‘Well enough about that for now. I imagine you need to get back to the office.’

He glanced automatically at his watch, saw the stop watch instead and immediately felt a twinge of heat. My cock belongs to Mistress. God, already. He looked at her face. Knowing was plastered all over it.

‘Yes, I, uh,’ he swallowed. ‘Canavan actually texted me on my way here. He wants to discuss something.’

‘Oh yes, I know. We spoke earlier.’ Oh shit. His head whipped around to stare at her, his eyes bulging.

‘Your first act of submission to me is this: When Mr Canavan asks you what he’s going to ask you I want you say, “Yes, Ed. I did say that was a good idea.”’

That’s when he knew he was fucked.

*****

Blurb:

Imagine an average guy with a wife, a job, average house, average car, average sex life… Well, not exactly. He has a secret he finds so embarrassing that he never talks to anyone about it. And then one day he meets her…

An architect chairs the newly formed Sexual Harassment in the Workplace Committee. When the consultant he hires to help him organize the new committee turns out to be a red haired bombshell, he tries to rein in his untoward thoughts.

But when she uncovers his embarrassing little secrets, this married man ends up in a relationship that’s so wrong on every level of his carefully put together life.

How long will he let his burning carnal desires threaten everything he’s worked so hard for?

Buy Links:

http://www.amazon.com/For-Pleasure-Mischief-Books-ebook/dp/B009UL1U5O/ref=sr_1_5?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1361161166&sr=1-5

http://www.amazon.co.uk/For-Pleasure-Mischief-Books-ebook/dp/B009UL1U5O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1361161997&sr=8-1

*****

Kyoko Church discovered the power of the written erotic word when she was 16 years old and penned a very explicit missive to her boyfriend detailing all the naughty things she wanted to do to him. When he received it, boyfriend was impressed. When he found it, father was not.

For the next 18 years she hid her naughty thoughts in shame. Until she found a community where they were once again appreciated for the well-imagined smut they are. Her short stories have been published in anthologies by Black Lace, Rubicund Publishing and Xcite Books. Book One, Nymphomania, and Book Two, Sapphic Secrets, in her Draper Estate Trilogy were published by Xcite in 2012. For Her Pleasure was published by HarperCollins Mischief in February 2013.

A Canuck by birth, she has recently made Australia her home. She is currently learning to drive on the left and say G’day convincingly.

Website: http://kyokochurch.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kyoko.church

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kyokochurch

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kyokochurch/