The Fugitive's Sexy Brother

Just got the cover art for my bounty hunter-themed BDSM book, The Fugitive's Sexy Brother, which will be out later this year from Ellora's Cave. Pretty, huh?

Lakeland Heatwave Book 3: Elemental Fire by K D Grace

K D Grace has been busy lately! Here's another new release!

*****

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Available from:


Amazon

Amazon UK

More buy links added here as they become available: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/lakeland-heatwave-book-3-elemental-fire/

*****

Excerpt:

The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ Her gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’

Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.

She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’

And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.

‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole.

Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.

****

‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’

Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’

The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’

*****

Bio:

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Find K D Here:

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Music Mondays: "Tilt Ya Head Back" by Nelly (feat. Christina Aguilera)

"I don't know what it is but I just want to get to know ya." -- Nelly



I love watching these two look at each other in this video. So much delicious, naked lust...

Review: Bad Behavior

Bad Behavior by Mary Gaitskill

My rating: 3 of 5 stars



I bought this collection of short stories for the exploration of sex and relationships that it promised (the back cover copy claims its territory "is the bedrooms of the urban fringe, where tenderness melds with cruelty and pornography with romance"). However, its treatment of non-sexual relationships between women turned out to be what grabbed me the most.

My initial expectation was certainly justified. The book turns out to contain "Secretary," the story on which the Maggie Gyllenhaal movie is (quite loosely) based. It also includes call girls, masochists, people in adulterous affairs, and so on. None of this is nearly as racy as it sounds. Gaitskill's language is precise and quite cold. I frequently found myself wondering how a given two characters could bear talking to each other for five minutes, let alone long enough to imagine they wanted to have some sort of relationship with each other. I nearly put the book down because its treatment of everything seemed so distant and no one seemed to like anyone else much at all.

However, little glimpses of something kept me going. "Trying to Be" which occurs fairly late in the book, contained the coldness and dissociation I described, and yet it moved me. A bit of language at the end of Secretary clicked for me as an explanation of Gaitskill's voice:

For some reason, I remembered the time, a few years before, when my mother had taken me to see a psychiatrist. One of the more obvious questions he had asked me was, "Debby, do you ever have the sensation of being outside yourself, almost as if you can actually watch yourself from another place?" I hadn't at the time, but I did now. And it wasn't such a bad feeling at all.

Even with that realization, however, I might have finished the book but not liked it. What redeemed the book for me was the way Gaitskill writes about friendships and other relationships between women. When I reviewed the stories that stood out for me, most of them had this theme, particularly "Connection," "Other Factors," and "Heaven," which are all clustered together at the end. Here the sense of dissociation and coldness worked much better for me because I also could detect genuine feeling between the characters. "Heaven" was a deep and moving story, very full and complicated. It concerns lots of relationships, but for me its emotional center lay in the connection between a woman and her niece.

Bad Behavior is a difficult book. I've seen it described as "utterly unsentimental," and I found this to be accurate. It makes for an unpleasant read at times. When the author presents characters at arm's length, it's hard for me to immerse myself in the world and care what happens to them. However, something crept up on me as I read. I'm not sure if the end of the book was better or if, by reading through the beginning, I began to connect better with Gaitskill's style. At any rate, for the last four or five stories I felt the depth and emotion I'd been missing through the first half of the book.



View all my reviews

Beginner's Luck

The latest collection from Mischief Books is out today, and it includes my story, "Beginner's Luck." Forever Bound is a special longer Mischief anthology that explores bondage, domination and submission in sixteen intensely erotic short stories.

Here's an excerpt from my story:

Jeremy sucked in a breath. She pressed the rope a little harder into his flesh, massaging him with it and making sure the fibers scratched him. "You like feeling it bite, don't you? Knowing that pretty soon it'll be clinging to your skin in a way you can't escape?"

"Yeah..."

Rachel blinked in surprise at the dreamy tone of Jeremy's voice. It made sense, of course, that at least some of the things she liked about rope would appeal to another bottom, but it had never occurred to her that this would help her to top effectively.

Confidence surged through her. She started the arm-binder by wrapping his body at armpit level, exhaling hotly against his neck as she dragged the hemp across his nipples on its way around his chest. She tied the starter knot the instructor showed, positioning it over his spine, but made sure to adjust the loop of rope several unnecessary times, just to scratch Jeremy's nipples some more.

"Oh my God, you're evil," he breathed. "What are you doing to me?"

"Just what I like done to myself," she said sweetly, then yanked at the encircling loop to get his attention. "Now be quiet. You're distracting me. Put your hands behind your back so I can get this sleeve going."

You can get the whole book here.

The Perfect Dom by Lucy Felthouse

I've read the first story in this collection -- a luscious bookstore fantasy. With that good start, I'm eager to see what else Lucy delivers in these kinky visions.

****

Four kinky and erotic BDSM tales from the smutty pen of Lucy Felthouse.

Balancing the Books

Philip’s a well off man, and doesn’t need a job. But when he sees the gorgeous owner of his local bookshop, he applies for the role that’s being advertised there immediately. He’s totally stricken by the stunning Giovanna, and when it turns out she wants to boss him around in a sexual sense as well as an employment sense, he has no intention of refusing.

Feeling the Heat

Taylor and Maisie’s car has broken down. Luckily, Taylor’s handy with engines and is working hard to get them back on the road. Unfortunately, Maisie is getting annoyed at the amount of time he’s spending in the garage and confronts him. Instead of arguing back, though, Taylor comes up with an ingenious plan to keep Maisie quiet.

The Perfect Dom

Part of Mia’s nightwear is a pair of hotpants with SPANK ME emblazoned across the arse. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but when she forgets that she has a houseguest and heads to the kitchen for a drink, she’s shocked to find Alex in her living room. Immediately spotting what he sees as an invitation written across Mia’s bottom, Alex makes an offer and Mia soon discovers that he is, in fact, the perfect dom.

Meet Me at the Spanish Steps

Darby is working at a holiday camp on the outskirts of Rome and is getting along just fine, with the exception of her sex life. For various reasons, she’s not getting what she wants in the bedroom, and her tastes are very particular. She turns to the Internet to get what she needs, and when she discovers William, it seems that he’s more than willing—and capable—of scratching that particular itch.

Available from:

All Romance


Amazon UK

Amazon US

Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.

*****

“Spank me. Is that an invitation?”

Shit. Mia had completely forgotten about him. Her flatmate, Katy, had asked if it was okay if her brother could stay on their sofa for a couple of nights. His own place was being fitted with a new bathroom and conditions over there weren’t exactly tantamount to hygiene. Mia had been rushing around in order to get to work and hadn’t really been paying attention, so she’d just agreed and then promptly forgotten.

Now, however, she was being treated to a huge and incredibly embarrassing reminder. Katy was on a nightshift at the hospital so when Mia had woken up at 9p.m.—her own body clock being on that of working in the club, though tonight was her night off—she’d deemed it safe to wander to the kitchen to get a drink in what she was wearing.

Big mistake. Alex was sitting on the sofa, an eyebrow quirked and a leering grin on his face. He held his iPad, and earphones hung around his neck. He’d obviously been watching a film or playing some ridiculous game before Mia had flipped the light on and sauntered through the living room in nothing but a skimpy vest and hotpants. The hotpants were, of course, what he was referring to. The fuchsia garment had SPANK ME emblazoned across the ass in large black lettering.

Mia gave Alex a look that would have turned a lesser man to stone. He, however, simply grinned even more widely, then said, “Well? Do you need a firm hand to that luscious butt of yours? Like a spanking, do you?”

Mia sighed. “Shut up, Alex. It’s none of your business. I’m just getting a drink. Get back to your damn gadget and leave me alone.”

“Oooh, someone’s defensive. I’m just saying, you must have them for a reason. A statement like that printed on your backside would definitely be construed as an invitation in my book.”

“Well, maybe it is an invitation, Alex. But it’s certainly not directed at you. Now if you’d kindly stop passing judgement on my non-existent sex life I’ll get my drink and get out of your way.”

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Review: Digging Deep

Digging Deep by Kay Jaybee

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



People say "sex sells," but in Kay Jaybee's Digging Deep, it's the setting that really takes the book to the next level -- and I'm making this statement about a very sexy book.

Digging Deep is at its heart a sort of "workplace romance" -- love between colleagues -- except that their workplace happens to be an archaeological dig in Tunisia. Dr. Beth Andrews has always looked up to rugged American archaeologist Dr. Harrison Harris, and when she's assigned to co-run a foreign excavation with him, she's determined to impress him. However, scheming interference from student's and Harrison's jealous ex threaten to humiliate Beth and derail any potential romance.

Jaybee's powers of description shine as she goes into details about the climate, the landscape, and the day-to-day grind of archaeology. I loved the intimacy and immediacy of these descriptions -- details I could never glean from a nonfiction book pop out here and provide the story with a sense of realism. Here's a case in point:

‘Did you know that you are the only one on this entire site whose knees I haven’t seen?’
Beth laughed. ‘I fear they are not my best feature.’
‘You mean despite being covered all the time, they are covered in bruises and scars from all the kneeling you have to do when you’re digging deep.’
‘Yep.’

‘That is my very favourite type of knee.’

In this passage, Jaybee's knowledge of archaeology allows her to write sexy, romantic lines that immerse the reader even deeper in the world of the characters.

In general, Jaybee does a good job of making the book's sex scenes flow naturally from the time in place, and incorporating hot elements of the setting such as outdoor sex and archaeologists' tools. She has a gift for vivid visual imagery, which can transform a sexual situation I've read about before into a surprisingly fresh encounter.

Digging Deep is erotic romance, and I thought it was an interesting specimen of the mix. The erotic element is stronger and naughtier than in many erotic romances I've read, and yet the romance itself is very sweet.

Beth's character is well-drawn and balanced. Jaybee particularly captures the sense of Beth as a post-doc -- more mature than a student, and yet still young and desperate to prove herself before her hero.

Harrison is a deeply masculine hero with significant flaws that keep him feeling realistic.

The book acknowledges the contrast between British and American ways of speaking, and there are some funny exchanges between Harrison and Beth on the subject. However, to my American ear, Harrison sounded British sometimes (such as when he tells Beth, "You knock spots off her and you know it.") A difficult pitfall to avoid when writing cross-culturally.

I very much enjoyed Digging Deep, but I did find some problems with the plot that held me back from entirely sinking into my enjoyment of the book. Much of the conflict is driven by Harrison's scheming former love interests, who wants, among other things, to damage Beth's reputation. To do this, she enlists a student to act as spy and troublemaker at the dig. The manipulations, however, increased in complexity so much that, when the characters expressed confusion, I felt confused along with them. In real life, people do meander when they converse, but when the characters attempted to sort out the plot, I sometimes felt frustrated by the extent to which their focus wandered (and by how much they got distracted by sex!).

I also felt the details of the manipulations stretched believability at certain points. For example, the hero and heroine consider staging a phone conversation with an imaginary interlocutor, they suspect one student of having had a conversation with an imaginary interlocutor, and another student actually has such a conversation. Talking to someone who's not really there is odd enough that when the idea appeared three times in the book, it felt unrealistic.

That said, I'd recommend Digging Deep for its vivid, exciting settings and inventive sex scenes. Also, if you've ever had a thing for Indiana Jones, Harrison will probably do it for you. ;)



View all my reviews

Kay Jaybee Interview!

Kay Jaybee is on tour to promote her new novel, Digging Deep, and I jumped at the chance to interview her! Here, Kay opens up about the story behind Digging Deep, and her writing process. Hope you enjoy the interview as much as I did!

***

Digging Deep's blurb:

As site supervisor on an archaeological dig, in the grounds of the Ancient Roman city of Leptis Minus in Tunisia, Dr Beth Andrew’s hands are well and truly full. Her first foreign excavation, which she co-runs with the American archaeologist Dr Harrison Harris, gets off to a shaky start due to the jealous interference of Harrison’s ex, and an overzealous student… Love and lust really can cloud even the cleverest person’s judgement!

***

1.The setting to Digging Deep sounds awesome -- an archaeological dig on the grounds of the ancient Roman city Leptis Minus in Tunisia. How did you discover this place and decide to set a book there?  

Leptis Minus wasn’t so much discovered by me in a whirl of writer like research, but was thrust upon me as a student. Many years ago, when I was in my second year at university, I was sent to Tunisia to take part in the excavation of a Roman city. I was very privileged to be put to work on digging the bath house -- it was an amazing experience.

I have long wanted to set one of my stories on an archaeological excavation. The challenges of that particular excavation, with its additional pressures of extreme heat in the day, extreme cold at night, lack of running water, and limited food, made it the ideal one to play with!


2. It sounds like there's a story behind the dedication to Digging Deep. Care to share? 

There is indeed! Only a handful of students were chosen to go to Africa and represent my university. The remainder of the dig staff came from similarly selected students from a university in America. At first it was all a bit ‘chalk and cheese’ - but soon we were all rubbing along very well indeed! Saying no more!!

3. Your writing covers a range from romantic to hardcore erotic. When you're writing something on the more romantic side, such as Digging Deep, does anything change about your approach? 

I must confess I find writing the more romantic stories much harder than penning the BDSM kink. I’m constantly having to hold myself back from adding in extra sex scenes with ropes and chains!!

With the hardcore erotica I plan my stories less. The scenes seem to naturally flow from one to another, each sexual episode broadening the story, and carrying the plot.

In romantic tales however, the sex is often the ultimate aim -- the goal in the minds of the two lead characters. Keeping the tension going in a way that won’t send my readers to sleep means I have to think around more corners than I do with the more complex BDSM stories!

4. The heroine of Digging Deep is British, and your hero is American. Love across the pond seems to be a subject of endless fascination to people on both sides of the divide. What interests you about it?

I guess there are a lot of ‘love across the pond’ romances. I hadn’t really given that a thought to be honest!  Until Digging Deep, all my stories have been based in the UK.

When I’m writing I have to be able to picture all my stories locations in my head. If I can’t, then I just can’t get across the feel of a place, and consequently the stories don’t work. So when I wrote this novella, it was more to do with basing a story outside the confines of the UK for a change.

As I can still picture the sights, sounds, and aromas of Tunisia so well, it seemed too good a setting to let go to waste. Plus of course, there is nothing like having two characters from different backgrounds having to work together -- who knows what frictions may occur!

5. In an interview you did for Victoria Blisse, you mentioned becoming desensitized to erotica. I've been thinking about that ever since I read it (it struck me because my own relationship with erotica has certainly changed as I've read and written more of it). How do you keep your writing hot when that's the case?

In my early days of writing, I knew my erotica was working because it turned me on as I wrote it. These days they are simply words on a page. I guess after seven years of twisting human beings into sexual knots you are bound to become desensitized to it.

On the plus side, after all those years, I have also picked up an idea of what my readers like and don’t like. I have a bank of ideas that I know work, and another set of plots that simply don’t – and will never be used again!

I keep things fresh (at least I hope I do), by trying to take as many ordinary scenarios as possible, and then making extra ordinary things happen within them. Nothing is sexier than taking an everyday occurrence or place, and allowing fantasy laden things to take them over!


6. I first read your work on Oysters and Chocolate, where you were a frequent contributor. The owners of that wonderful publication recently announced they were shutting down. Would you mind reflecting a bit on your experience with O&C in honour of a site I will definitely miss? 

Oysters and Chocolate have been a major influence in my writing career, and I will certainly miss them.

It was just over seven years ago when they took my very first piece of erotic poetry- Regrets (http://kayjaybee.me.uk/news/oysters-and-chocolate-a-fond-fairwell/).

After that, the editors Jordan and Sam, kindly took over 30 pieces of my work. From short tales to poems, to books reviews, and even a ten part serial, (Going Against Type), they have supported me all along the line.

My serial later became ‘Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man’, and was published by Oysters and Chocolate’s sister company, OCPress (which is also sadly no more).

I will particularly miss providing the web site with an annual Christmas story. My first one, Santa’s Little Helper, visited a very select grotto -- while my very last, Candy at Christmas, took the reader into the world of pony play!

So many people use O&C, not only a place where they could read a new piece of fresh kink every day, but as a place to spot new talent. In fact, if it wasn’t for my short story, Punished, (that featured on the site a few years ago), then I would never have been asked by Sweetmeats Press to write The Circus novella for their Immoral Views collection, and consequently, wouldn’t have written my third novel, Making Him Wait. (Sweetmeats Press, 2012)

7. Anything else you'd like to add, about writing in general or Digging Deep specifically? 

Thank you ever so much for such for inviting me over for such a lovely interview!

The last twelve months have been an amazing experience for me in the world of writing. I’ve been lucky enough to have two novels come out (The Voyeur- Xcite, Making Him Wait- Sweetmeats Press), my first anthology re-released with a brand new cover (The Collector- Austin & Macauley), and two Secret Library novellas published (A Sticky Situation and Digging Deep). I’m still in shock to tell you the truth!
2013 is shaping up to be just as hectic. I have just finished my first non-erotic novel (all hush hush for now!), and am about to start writing parts 2 and 3 of The Perfect Submissive! Part two will be entitled The Retreat, and will be out in October. Once that’s written, I’ll be cracking on with part three...

***

Digging Deep is published by Xcite Books, and is available from Amazon UK and Amazon US, and is coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.

***

Bio-

Kay Jaybee wrote the novels Making Him Wait, (Sweetmeats Press, 2012), The Voyeur (Xcite,2012), and The Perfect Submissive (Xcite, 2011), as well as the novella's Digging Deep (Xcite, 2013), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2012), and The Circus (Sweetmeats Press, 2011). She has also written the anthologies The Best of Kay Jaybee, (Xcite,2012), Tied to the Kitchen Sink, Equipment, (All Romance, 2012), Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books, 2011), Quick Kink One and Quick Kink Two (Xcite e-books, 2010), and The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 1st Ed 2008, 2nd Ed 2012).
Kay has had over 60 short stories published by Cleis Press (inc. Best of Best Women’s Erotica 2, Best Women’s Erotica 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2012; Best Bondage 2012, 2013, Sweet Love, Gotta Have It, Sweet Confessions), Black Lace (Sexy Little Numbers), Mammoth (The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica), Xcite (inc.Ultimate Sin, Boy Fun, Power Play, Threesomes, Finger Music, Tricks For Kicks), Penguin (Oysters and Chocolate; Erotic Stories of Every Flavor), Seal (Oysters and Chocolate; Nice Girls, Naughty Sex),and Sweetmeats Press (Immoral Views).
Details of all Kay's work can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk 


You can follow Kay on Twitter- kay_jaybee

And on Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Music Mondays: "Fastest Girl in Town" by Miranda Lambert

"My reputation follows me around -- just makes me want to give 'em more to talk about."
--Miranda Lambert



I really enjoy this mini-movie.

Not the Leader of the Pack

I'm thrilled to announce that my Breathless Press title, Not His Territory, is getting a sequel!

I love the world of that book, and am glad to revisit it. Not His Territory is a paranormal romance set in the Northwestern United States. There, the werewolves chafe under the strict control of the legalistic Werewolf Council. Though the Council claims to be protecting the interests and safety of werewolves, many feel it's trying to legislate the wolf right out of the members of the packs. Against this backdrop, primal urges boil over into romance, sex, and rebellion.

Not the Leader of the Pack, as it's currently titled, introduces a new pack and a new romance. If you read the original, which is set in Big Timber, Montana, you may recall that Raul at one point refers to "the situation in Missoula." Not the Leader of the Pack tells the story behind Raul's comment:

When Juli Gunby left Missoula, Montana, she didn't intend to come back. Not to her father, who became ill-tempered after being abandoned by his mate, and certainly not to Neil Statham, the pack beta who rejected Juli's girlish advances. But a trip to her father's deathbed threatens to become a permanent stay when the old man uses his dying breath to charge Juli with pack leadership. Juli wants to fulfill his last request but Neil, feeling betrayed that the responsibility isn't passed to him, threatens to lead the pack to revolt if Juli becomes alpha. Neil and Juli can't compromise, and the more they fight, the more their old feelings of attraction rise to the surface. It's clear they're going to tear each other apart eventually, but it remains to be seen whether they'll do it as rival alphas fighting for leadership or as lovers in the throes of passion.

For Not the Leader of the Pack, I sank into the world a lot more -- this book is about four times the length of Not His Territory. I can't wait to tell you more about it as release approaches (and I'm dying to see what delicious cover Breathless makes for this).

The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: Mirabella’s Mardi Gras Ménage

In case you didn't get a chance to celebrate Mardi Gras on Tuesday, this post from author Louisa Bacio might give you that much-needed taste of New Orleans. Enjoy!

****

Blurb:

Constantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.

What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-547-8

Available from:


Ravenous Romance

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Barnes and Noble

And all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

“What are you doing living here?” she asked.

He’d asked himself that question many times over in the past few months. Nick had been used to living with others for all of his life. Being alone was quite different.

“After Silver and I broke up, it didn’t feel right to keep living with Lawrence, Trevor, and Lily,” he explained.

She nodded, her eyes clearing as more time passed. “I can understand that, but I’m surprised Lawrence let you go.”

“As my sire, he can pretty much watch me wherever I’m living. I’m sure if I were to go off the deep end, he’d get some type of psychic notice,” Nick explained. “It’s strange. It feels like I don’t have privacy at times, and at others I’m totally alone.”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Over the past two years of knowing Mirabella, Nick didn’t quite know what to think of her. She’d always been in the presence of her aunt, who was quite overpowering. Mentally, it was hard to separate memories of the two of them. The one time he had rescued her with Trevor, Mirabella had been totally passed out—under the influence of some other type of drug, or spell, or supernatural creature. In other words, she’d definitely not been herself.

“So how come we keep meeting this way?” Nick teased. “You always seem to be running into trouble.”

“Let’s just say I’m not very street smart,” she said. “Tante Teresa has kept me isolated a bit too much. Don’t know how to make it on my own in such large crowds, but I’m starting to feel like I need to escape the prison of her watchful eye.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a way to experience it,” Nick said. “It’s not full Mardi Gras yet, but these crowds building up to those events are almost as bad. You have to be careful on the streets.”

“I’m learning that. It’s a much different world to be out there than in the store.”

“I can’t believe Teresa let you out either. She’s gotta know what it’s like out there.”

A flush brightened Mirabella’s cheeks, and Nick thought about how gorgeous she looked in his bed, the contrast of her darker skin tone to the pale blue sheets. With all the mixed-breed genetics in New Orleans, both of them looked to be of Creole heritage. True, his coloring was a bit more pale now that he was dead and all. Mirabella’s skin shimmered in the moonlight.

“I might have slipped out while she slept,” she admitted. “The lure of the music drew me out, and I wanted to see what it was like.”

Nick was experiencing a lure all of his own. Her luscious lips drew him in. She caught him watching her, and she licked a droplet of water off her bottom lip. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she leaned toward him, her eyes half-mast.

Her breath smelled sweet, like fresh almonds mixed with vanilla. He shouldn’t kiss her. She was too young and too naïve. But while his head told him to step away, his desire took over, craving the physical connection.

At this moment, though, with her ensconced within his bed, the physical possibilities loomed endless. No one knew she was here. They could do whatever they desired.

Softly, his lips brushed against hers. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her in closer and holding her steady. He probed her mouth with his tongue, requesting entrance, and she more than willingly opened beneath him.

She sighed against his mouth. Warmth. Vitality. Life.

All the traits a beautiful young woman possessed and a vampire like him lacked.

“I’d better take you home,” he said, giving one last effort to be a gentleman.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best here,” he said. He made a move to get off the bed, and she followed him, her body curling into his. Her warmth enveloping him.

“Best for whom? Not you or me,” she said. “I want more of your kisses.”

*****


Bio:

Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, the 1Night Stand A Date with Death and numerous steamy short stories.

Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit:

http://louisabacio.blogspot.com
http://www.louisabacio.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

*****



Mardi Gras Prize Package (ends 2/28/2013)

Mardi Gras package includes Kitchen Witch spices, beads, fleur di lis cookie cutter, mask, etouffee mix. Shipping to the U.S. Value is worth $20 + the cost of shipping. I reserve the right to substitute the prize in case product is not available. If the winner is international, they can choose a $15 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

When the Vacation is Over

Next Valentine's Day, I'll get a nice surprise when Kristina Wright's anthology, XOXO: Sweet and Sexy Erotic Romance, comes out including my story, "When the Vacation is Over." By February 2014, I am certain to see the story as an alien artifact from the lost sands of time, which hopefully means I'll enjoy it more since I won't remember the ending. I'll be sure to post reminders of the story's existence when it's closer to time.

Joking aside, I'm stoked to be in one of Kristina Wright's anthologies, which are always excellent. Her book Fairy Tale Lust knocked my socks off just recently, so while I must wait to see what's in store for XOXO, I'm sure the result will be worth it.

Here's the table of contents so you can get excited, too:

Foreword                                                           
Introduction: Love Bites
Midnight -- Emerald
Soldier Boy -- Sommer Marsden
Anniversary Wrappings -- Kathleen Tudor
Because He Knows Her So Well -- Saskia Walker
Control -- A.J. Lyle
Unsnubbed -- Jeremy Edwards
Designated Driver -- Heidi Champa
Friend of the Court -- Kelly Rand
Ouch! -- Lily K. Cho
Steam -- Mariposa Cruz
The War at Home -- Giselle Renarde
By the Sea -- Angela R Sargenti
Gargoyle Lovers -- Sacchi Green
Best Friends -- Catherine Paulssen
Dirty Laundry -- Martha Davis
Night Moves -- Christine d’Abo
Miss Organized -- Elizabeth Coldwell
When the Vacation is Over -- Annabeth Leong
The “Tilly” Crown Affair -- Michael M. Jones
Gentle Teasing -- Raelynn MacDonald
Eighty Cupcakes -- Neve Black
Imagination at Play -- Brighton Walsh
Heighten the Senses -- Heidi Champa
Bathroom Play -- Catherine Paulssen
Company Picnic -- Anya M. Wassenberg
Homecoming -- Jenna Bright
Steal the Key -- Amy Glances
Simmering Down -- Kathleen Tudor
Nailed -- Giselle Renarde
Perk of the Job -- Cheyenne Blue
A.M. Wood -- Rosalía Zizzo
One Hot Wet Night -- Veronica Wilde
The Distraction -- Louise Hooker
Connecting Flight -- Salome Wilde
Wild Naked Bandits Flee the Square Conspiracy -- Nikki Magennis
Faded Goods -- Vida Bailey
Puzzle Pieces -- Rachel Kramer Bussel
Very, Very Well -- Kristina Wright

All You Do Is Play

I've got a story coming out in the excellent Rachel Kramer Bussel's Big Book of Orgasm! The book boasts 69 short stories featuring orgasm (sort of a follow-up to the editor's anthology, Orgasmic, which I loved).

My favorite thing about Orgasmic was the wide territory it explored, and I suspect Big Book of Orgasm will do the same. With my story, "All You Do Is Play," I wanted to support that sense of exploration. My main character's orgasm is... musical.

And, I'll have you know I do my research. My partner and I tested the orgasm method before I wrote the story to make sure it could work (tricky, but possible). I also knew a woman once, no lie, who could orgasm to music but not to much else.

So excited to see what the other authors came up with! I'll post more details as they become available.

It's Not Vanilla

I've got a kinky menage story, "It's Not Vanilla," on the way in Smut for Chocoholics, edited by Kevin Mitnik. I'm pretty excited to get in on this series of anthologies (Check out its precursor, Smut in the City).

"It's Not Vanilla" includes one girl, two guys, and two kinds of chocolate -- she's not the type to settle for just one. I'll post more details as I have them!

Spankalicious in Print!

Damn, I'm glad for another excuse to post this awesome cover! Spankalicious, which features my story, "A Cure for Excess," is now available in print. So now you've got a chance to see that sweet cover in living color -- and read a bunch of hot spanking stories edited by D.L. King.

Music Mondays: "Freak Me" by Silk

"Let me lick you up and down 'til you stay stop."
-- Silk



And now for something completely different. Sometimes, it amuses me to go really old school. When this song came out, I was desperately trying to figure out what the hell this guy was talking about. I heard it on the radio recently and it suddenly dawned on me that the promise to "lick you up and down" was probably centered in a specific location (when I was younger, I imagined the guy literally licking the woman's skin from head to toe).

Review: Love's Executioner and Other Tales of Psychotherapy

Love's Executioner and Other Tales of Psychotherapy by Irvin D. Yalom

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



Love's Executioner contains ten tales of the author's psychotherapy patients, and I initially picked it up out of voyeuristic interest. The title made me think they were stories of sex and death (a strong attraction for me), and that turned out to be true.

What I did not expect was how much of a pageturner the book turned out to be. Nonfiction is hard to write because life typically doesn't follow the "beats" of a good plot the way fiction does. In my past life as a journalist, I learned a nonfiction writer has to make sense of facts by seeking out and imposing some type of arc on a mess of information. Yalom, however, is a master plotter. Every one of these stories grabbed me from the first couple paragraphs and propelled me through to the end on the raw strength of "I wonder what happened next?" "Love's Executioner" starts out with a woman declaring she's had an affair with an old therapist, and the author is her last hope. "If Rape Were Legal..." starts out with a graduate student storming into the author's office and declaring she's called his patient a dumb s#$@. "Three Unopened Letters" leads with the title mystery.

A lot of fiction writers could learn from Yalom's masterful openings, and the way he builds tension. Story construction aside, the voyeuristic interest that drew me to the book is very much fulfilled. Yalom tells not only his patients' stories but his own. I am not easily shocked, and yet I found his emotional honesty shocking. He admits affection for people others would be repulsed by, admits being motivated by curiosity or ego when he could have claimed kindness, and, in one story, "Fat Lady," admits to prejudices I've rarely seen voiced and owned to the fullest extent. Along the way, he gets in a lot of philosophical discussion about the purpose of life, the imminence of death, and so on.

I am not sure I would want him as a therapist (he seems humane, yet deeply flawed -- perhaps I am left with this impression simply because of his faithful description of inner thoughts that a therapist would hide in the moment). However, he's an excellent writer and student of the human condition.

I loved this book, but I should note it's not for the faint of heart. If you haven't figured out from the titles I mentioned, I'll state explicitly that it contains a lot of controversial and painful material, often not from a politically correct standpoint. "If Rape Were Legal..." is a sympathetic portrait of a man who claims he would rape women if he could get away with it. He eventually redeems himself, but I certainly found the initial portrait of him (and the author's accepting attitude towards him) rather offputting. "Fat Lady," which is about Yalom's efforts to overcome his prejudices toward an obese patient, made me cringe many times. The disgust he felt for his patient was vividly described, and painful to read.

These things don't dock any points from the book, though -- I've always believed painful or difficult material is worth experiencing if it's presented in a certain way. I got a lot from these stories, including the difficult ones, and Yalom deals with difficult subjects with courage and sensitivity.

As a reader, I settled into an interesting combination of prurient interest and philosophical stimulation. I would love to read more by this author.



View all my reviews

Sexy Spies

The Second Oldest Profession: New Tales of Sexy Seductive Spies, which includes my story, "Loyalty," is now available from Sizzler Editions. Here's the blurb:

If the exchange of sex for something in return is one of the first transactions by the human species, you can bet that there was someone spying on the couple! In Chinatown by Jay Lawrence, has Dixon Frost of MI5 following the luscious spy, Veronica Blow along the dangerous streets of Wartime London. Misha is searching for a mysterious master spy in Double Oh by Mike Howard. Will spilled blood join the other bodily fluids on the sidewalk? In Maxwell’s Demon by Essemoh Teepee a deliciously sensual woman is coolly professional in doing just what takes to get at some very valuable secrets. Double Dare by Lily Gower is about a watcher, one of the invisible spies, observing an infidelity. Loyalty by Annabeth Leong has a corporate spy wearing a hi-tech disguise to seduce information out of the CEO of a prominent designer drug company. The World Game by M. Christian has Andrea and Mitchell navigating the Cold War landscape of treachery and double agents. In Spy School by Anandalila, Ana and Ian are in their last assignment, a sexy game of seduction. In The Love Who Spied Me by M. Howard, when Sven came in from the cold he was still hot stuff – and about to get hotter. MI5 are under pressure in OHMS by Max Sandford, Emma is fresh from training when she meets Khemet and discovers her own true nature. In A Taste of Honey by Moses Emary, A spy must choose if risking his job and quite possibly his life is worth one sweet taste of Honey. Ten stories from some of the best authors around are all about sexy, seductive spies and hot, steamy sex.

My piece is erotic science fiction, featuring spaceships, synth suits, gender-bending, and designer drugs. Here's an excerpt from Loyalty:

"Oh, you really did want to talk?" Stella said, forcing my mind back on track. "I'm surprised. Didn't think that was your style."

I whirled. Stella had downed the wine in her glass and undone her shawl, displaying a pale expanse of curvaceous female topography. My buddy, Jack, did indeed seem to have done most of the work of seducing this woman for me. I ogled her studiously, imitating the eye movement patterns we'd observed Jack using. I lingered in the valley of her cleavage, then craned my neck a little to peek at her hip and the small bit of ass that I could see.

Stella grinned and shifted slightly in her chair to show me a little more. If I weren't working, she might have genuinely excited me. I liked her curves, and the way her messed-up cuticles showed a little vulnerability to balance the power promised by her manicured, blood-red fingernails. Unfortunately, this was no time to think about myself. I leered with Jack's face, trusting the expression I'd practiced to fall within 1/8 of a millimeter of his normalized lustful configuration.

"You sure you want to talk?" Stella said.

I gritted my teeth. Maybe she'd loosen up off the power trip after I made her come a time or two. I went ahead and took the cue, closing the distance between us. A guy like Jack wouldn't ask, so I didn't. I sank my fingers into her hair, tilted her head back, and took her mouth. The dossier didn't include data on Jack's sexual style, so I winged it, trusting my intuition of the man and the intel that she had no reason to know for sure how he would kiss her. I went in deep and aggressive, forcing her mouth open wide and going straight for big handfuls of tits and ass.

She felt good — a lot to grip, and nicely firm. I allowed myself a moment of distraction and pinched her nipple, liking the way she sighed into my mouth. But I had to return to the bosses with more than an afterglow if I didn't want to spend my whole life in debt servitude, so I kept myself focused. "As fascinating as all this is," I murmured, not quite pulling back from her mouth, "I really did want to get your thoughts on that ship redesign I mentioned."

"Oh?" Stella took my hand and guided it over her white silk dress, fastening my fingers around her crotch. I couldn't ignore the invitation and keep talking without insulting her, so I decided to take it to the hilt and maybe wow her a little. Slipping to my knees on the floor in front of the loveseat, I pressed my face into the spot where she'd placed my hand. The tangy scent of her came through clearly, going to my head more than I expected. A shiver of arousal reached my actual clit, which was sealed off and neglected inside the synthsuit. I moaned, not entirely the way Jack would have.

I followed my instincts, licking her through the silk, my saliva spreading rapidly over her dress and making it cling. She wasn't wearing panties, and, even through layers of synthsuit that covered every part of me including the inside of my mouth, she tasted sweet and compelling.

"That's good, Jack," Stella purred, gently separating me from her cunt with a tight grip on the back of my neck. I couldn't take my eyes off the nearly transparent wet spot on her white dress. I could just see the dark pink shade of her inner labia through the indentation where her outer cunt lips had begun to spread open.

Stella must have seen where my eyes focused, because she smirked down at me. "I'm not being fair, am I? I should let you talk to me."

You can pick up the book here, or at Amazon.

3 by Julie Hilden

I am totally excited by these Modern Erotic Classics, as I think I've said before!

*****



What's the greatest sacrifice you would make for love?



Maya and Ilan have an unusual marriage: Maya will tolerate Ilan's chronic infidelity as long as he includes her in the affairs. Initially, Maya finds these unorthodox threesomes as arousing as they are disturbing - but when her writing career takes off and she becomes more independent, Ilan feels threatened, and opts for sexual experimentation of another kind: one that plays on Maya's fear and ultimately threatens her life.



Meanwhile, Maya is drawn into a relationship with a fateful third character. When her new liaison begins to mirror her marriage to Ilan, Maya discovers that her lover, seemingly a stranger, knows far more about her past than she has revealed.



Brave, daring and deeply erotic: 3 is a compelling chronicle of obsession and power.



'Julie Hilden does what few writers can dare to. 3 is smart, sexy, strange and impossible to put down.' Dani Shapiro

Available from:


Amazon UK

Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

It is the first Saturday in August when I walk up to the porch of the summerhouse and see them. I am supposed to be in the city this weekend but my interview is canceled, the actor called out of town. I see them through the fan propped in the window, through the transparent blur of its blades.

She is moving on top of him slowly, with such concentration that though she faces the window, though she could look right at me, she does not. I am only a few feet away from her. I have never seen her before.

I watch her glossy brown hair shift on her shoulders, I watch her empty eyes as she moves on him with calculation, with slack lips, with nipples so erect that the areolae wrinkle around them – as she moves with such pleasure, really, that who could hate her in this moment?
To love her, to want to be her, to want to touch her, yes. But not to hate her, not in this.

I watch her, and watch, too, a sliver of Ilan’s narrow chest beneath her, its pattern of hair that breaks across his sternum. I can see the necklace sliding on his chest as they move, the tiny
silver hand slipping back and forth, its touch faster and jerkier than Ilan’s own smooth caresses – than the touch of his hand moving on her downy back.

For perhaps five minutes, I don’t say a word. It seems a weird privilege: here is the life I don’t see, the life that goes on without me. I watch them as a ghost watches the living.

Then I say his name slowly, just audibly. She starts and looks around wildly. When she looks through the fan and sees me, she gasps.

Ilan does not start at all; not a flicker. But he lifts his head, sees me, and winces, and just like that he lifts her off him and at the same time off the bed.

‘You have to go now,’ he tells her.

She dresses insolently slowly. Her blouse fastens in the back with a line of ties – it is really just a square of cloth that settles on her breasts – and she loops each of the ties into a perfect bow.

‘Fuck you,’ she tells Ilan. ‘You fucking liar. I deserve better than you.’ Righteous anger, but controlled.

She and I brush past each other. It’s as if she’s preempted me with her anger; I want to shout at Ilan too, curse at him, but I don’t have the heart. ‘I should leave too,’ is all I say.

‘You can’t leave me, Maya. I love you.’

‘Was this the first time – the only time? I need to know.’

‘It started in college,’ he admits, ‘a few weeks after I met you.’

I shiver. I never expected to be chosen by myself, for myself alone. It had felt wrong – unlike me – to be chosen. Now, hearing this, I feel only a sickening familiarity, not surprise.

‘It never meant anything,’ he assures me. ‘I felt awful about it. I don’t know where it comes from. I thought, with enough therapy, I’d talk myself out of it. But all I do is confess, I don’t change.

'Look, can we at least sit down? I feel like any moment, you’re going to leave.’

‘Okay, but I’m not promising to stay.’

I sit down on the rattan couch. He stands behind me. I lean back and reach my head up to him – like a rabbit in a cage straining to sip from its water dispenser, the single round, hanging drop. And he leans down, princelike, to kiss me.

Then he starts to touch me. He slips his hands down my jeans, his fingers splayed, rubbing my clitoris insistently, with the slightest pressure. I moan quietly, move against him.

‘Don’t I know you?’ he says. ‘I know exactly what you want, don’t I?’

It agitates me as he rubs and rubs, softly, softly. He touches me the way he learned from me years ago – the way I touch myself. He studied it. The detail of his knowledge of me devastates. If I were to close my eyes, I could confuse his touch with my own.

But as he nuzzles into my shoulder, I smell sex in his hair and break away from him.

‘Would you at least shower?’ I demand.

‘No, you love that. Tell me you love it.’

In seconds my jeans are gone, my shirt is gone. He holds on to me, won’t let me leave.

‘It’s so soft,’ he says as he touches me. ‘You’re so wet.’

He gets a little bleat out of me as he rubs. Then I clamp my mouth shut. Ah, but then I relax it. I begin to breathe in the sex smell in his hair; I begin almost to like it.

‘Maya. Tell me you want this.’

‘I want it.’

‘I knew you did.’ And I do. And it is hours, then, before we can stop.

*****

About the Author:

Julie Hilden graduated from Harvard, and earned a law degree at Yale and an MA in creative writing from Cornell. After several years of practicing law, she has now turned to writing full time. Her first book, a memoir entitled The Bad Daughter, was published by Algonquin Books, and she has also written for Slate magazine. She lives in New York City.

*****

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

A Sad Goodbye to Oysters and Chocolate, and a Promise

Many people have heard that Oysters and Chocolate is closing. This saddens me, because I loved the literary, varied erotica that appeared there. Also, Oysters and Chocolate was the first place to publish an erotic story of mine (the lesbian short, Make It Last). I've been in a bit of denial about this, but the time for denial is over -- the site is down, and the URL redirects to the editors' page on Amazon.

I wanted to note that I'm currently exploring ways to keep my O&C stories available -- a quest that has become more urgent now that the site can no longer be accessed. I'm proud of all 6 of the stories Jordan and Samantha published over the years, and I want to make sure that people can still read them.

Identity Crisis by Grace Marshall

I like KD Grace's erotic writing, so I couldn't resist the chance to learn more about her other nom de plume, Grace Marshall. Enjoy!

*****

Reclusive romance novelist Tess Delaney is the alter ego of Garrett Thorne, bad-boy brother of business tycoon Ellison Thorne. When Tess is nominated for the Golden Kiss Award, Garrett recruits PR specialist, Kendra Davis, to keep his secret and be Tess for the awards despite their mutual animosity. But when Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, an identity crisis is eclipsed by a battle for survival, and Tess Delaney, the woman who doesn’t exist, just might understand Kendra and Garrett’s hearts even better than they do.

Available from:

Xcite

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Other links will be added here as they become available: http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/books/identity-crisis/

*****

Excerpt:

Garrett felt like a naughty teenager as they sneaked out the back door, through the gate of the privacy fence and down the alley. He wore a shapeless track suit with the black hoodie pulled up over his head and a scruffy pair of Converse sneakers that weren’t exactly meant for dancing. And Kendra, well she hardly looked ratty, in his opinion. She wore low rider jeans, and where they weren’t hugging her body like a second skin, they were full of threadbare, flesh revealing holes. The black sweat top she wore was cut short enough to show a tantalizing flash of her navel and hips bones when she moved just right. It slid off one shoulder to reveal the thin lacy strap of a red bra. She wore all of her russet locks tucked up under a leather beret. Her fashion statement was topped off with black ankle boots. She looked very, very dangerous. And hot. Of course she didn’t need to dress the part for either, he thought. He was already certain on both counts.

‘You live a little closer to The Boiling Point than Dee does.’ She took his hand and nodded to where the alley T’ed with the street, and then gave way to the park on the other side. ‘She never goes there, of course. Well she did once, but that was just for Harris, then he hated it.’ She giggled. ‘God I wish I could have been there for that.’

‘Am I going to hate it?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Probably not. You’re much more of a bad boy than Harris is, or is that all an act?’

The long line of shiny chrome Harleys out front of the squat cinder block building gave Garrett the first clue that this was not Dancing with the Stars. Kendra waved them away absently. ‘The Boiling Point’s not really a biker bar, but it’s kind of the warm-up act, I suppose you could say. Lots of bikers start off here before they head on to their usual haunts. Makes for an exciting mix. Later in the night there are almost no bikers. But there are always lots of interesting people.’

Any other time, Garrett would have been up for meeting interesting people, but tonight he couldn’t imagine anyone interesting him more than the woman on his arm. He paid the fee at the door and a surly man the size of small house with fire-engine hair and a scruffy beard stamped their hands with a red ink TBP.

Inside a live band had just begun to play to a full, but not yet crowded house. ‘The place gets raided from time to time,’ Kendra said. ‘I don’t know what all goes on. I just come here because it’s interesting.’

‘A good raid and us carted off to the police station will really give the press something to talk about,’ Garrett observed.

‘Don’t worry,’ she yelled to be heard above the band’s bass-heavy version of Highway to Hell. ‘They just got raided last week. They’ll be good to go for a while now. We can relax and enjoy ourselves.’ She pulled him onto the dance floor. ‘Best dance while there’s room. In a few hours it’ll be a real tit squeeze.’

Kendra Davis was just as stunning dark and dangerous as she was golden and romantic, as she was naked in his kitchen, and she definitely knew how to move on the dance floor. But it made Garrett more than a little nervous that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be noticing the way the woman could shake her booty. He thought about asking her to try not to draw to much attention to herself, but he wasn’t even sure it was possible for Kendra Davis not to draw attention.

The place smelled of leather and beer, and sweat. Already there was a thick haze of pheromones invisible to the eye, but everyone there breathed them it, gave them off and reveled in the dark anticipation of what the night might bring. The look in Kendra’s eyes was bright and wicked, like she would do anything, try anything, like all the boundaries were suddenly negotiable.

And fuck, as amazing as she was like that, as much as he wanted to lose himself in the place, in the experience, there was no way he could keep from thinking about who might be watching her in that crowd, about who might be waiting for just the perfect opportunity.

As though she were reading his mind, she pulled him to her with a hand curled around his neck and spoke against his ear. ‘Oh would you relax, Garrett. Do you really think this is the kind of hang-out Tess Delaney would frequent?’

Then she slid both arms around his neck and let him pull her into a deep, hungry kiss. When it ended with an aggressive flick of his tongue, she offered a throaty giggle. ‘Marking territory, are we?’ Before he had a chance to respond, she returned the favor, plunging her tongue in deep, and tightening a fist in his hair to pull him closer.

He moved a hand to the small of her back and gave her the full frontal rub-up, enough to be sure she knew she’d gotten his cock’s attention. ‘You see where this is leading if you keep that up?’

She pulled away and gave his crotch some breathing room as the music settled into a heavy metal beat that filled the dance floor with lots of heavily booted bikers and their spandex and leather women. Garrett was surprised to find more than a few men in pressed jeans and designer polo shirts bellied up to the bar in the mix that looked like it was probably mostly low-brow. He wasn’t the only man who looked like he’d just come from a work out at the corner gym and Kendra’s shredded jeans seemed to be the fashion statement of more than a few women among a smattering of Goth and grunge and plain old red-neck jeans and tee-shirts with baseball caps.

With each song the band played, the dance floor became fuller and fuller. The strobe light flashed and the disco ball bathed the floor in sparkles as people rocked and strutted and sweated, and it became more and more difficult to tell who was dancing with whom. Garrett was about to grab Kendra by the hand and reel her back in so they could stay connected when a biker in a ZZ Top tee-shirt that smelled like an ashtray and looked like it might have been painted across his bulging pecs managed to slide in between them, turn his back on Garrett, and focus his full attention on Kendra. And suddenly all Garrett could see was his broad back.

‘Kendra,’ he called, but his voice was drowned out in the roar of Def Leppard. And that might have been okay if the man hadn’t been so fucking big. Kendra was certainly entitled to dance with whomever she liked. But he couldn’t see her. He fucking couldn’t see her! Not even her feet between the man’s shuffling boots. ‘Kendra!’ He called again. Louder this time. That at least got the man’s attention, but when he turned to see what Garrett wanted, and he could see beyond the biker’s bulk, Kendra was not there! The woman the man was dancing with had cropped blonde hair and a leather bustier several sizes too small.

‘Kendra!’ Garrett called out, louder this time, shoving his way past the biker, who pulled the blonde to him protectively. Frantically Garrett scanned the burgeoning crowd on the dance floor, scanned the women with hats. There were cowboy hats, police hats, even a few stocking caps, but there were just too many people, too many lights, too much noise. In his mind he could only think of Razor Sharp’s horrid email and Kendra’s response to it. Why the hell hadn’t he forced the issue? Why the hell hadn’t he made her tell him why she was so upset, made her tell him about the stalker Dee had mentioned. And fuck! Why had he let her talk him into bringing her here?

*****

Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.
Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy  published by Xcite Romance. The first and second novels in the trilogy are out now.

Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace, writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.

Find Grace here:
Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/GraceMarshallRomance
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/GM_Romance

Get Laid Cover

I just got the cover for my forthcoming Ellora's Cave book, Get Laid, and it's a beauty! I particularly like that the male cover model is exactly the sort of hot Asian man I imagined as my hero.

In addition to Get Laid, I have another book coming from Ellora's Cave, currently titled The Fugitive's Sexy Brother. More details when I've got them!

Music Mondays: "Madness" by Muse

"Now, I need to know is this real love -- or is it just madness keeping us afloat?"
-- Muse

Review: Cowboy Lust: Erotic Romance for Women

Cowboy Lust: Erotic Romance for Women by Delilah Devlin

My rating: 3 of 5 stars



This collection reminded me of the kind of place that gets good after 11 p.m. The deeper I got into the book, the darker and more interesting the stories became. The last three stories, "Raney's Last Ride" by Chaparrita, "The Runaway Bride" by Delilah Devlin (the editor), and "She Don't Stay the Night" by Anna Meadows seemed like they came from a different, more mysterious book. They were less white, less safe, and included edgier sex and more flavor.

I enjoyed other unusual stories in the collection also, particularly the ones that took place in more creative settings, such as Cheyenne Blue's "Under the Southern Cross" (set in Australia). M. Marie's "Rough Stock" and Sedona Fox's "The Ranch Hand" also deserve commendation for including really interesting, active heroines who know what they want in life and love and aren't afraid to go after it.

The collection was a bit weighed down, however, by repetition of some less original themes. There are at least three "woman in need of roadside assistance hooks up with cowboy" stories. This seemed unfortunate to me, because I thought it played into a helpless woman stereotype that turned me off.

The biggest thing holding the book back from a higher rating in my opinion was a mismatch between "erotic" and "romance." While these two can obviously work well together, I felt that they interacted oddly in the case of this collection. Many of the kinky stories in the collection made me uncomfortable by playing fast and loose with consent (I actually enjoy reading noncon where a spade is called a spade, but I dislike "gray area consent" where someone ignores or downplays a woman's right to consent and everyone pretends that was totally fine and the guy is seen as someone admirable). Here, I think the trouble was the need to treat a situation as romantic even if that wasn't the true source of the turnon. Conversely, the sweeter stories tended to include sex that felt repetitive when one story was read after another. Romance novel sex works for me because of the length of emotional buildup that precedes it, and I thought it was tricky in shorter stories.

I should say I'm not someone who's obsessed with cowboys. I can get into the idea, but the word "cowboy" does not automatically turn me on. For those with a real cowboy fetish, the collection might have a different effect.



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