Saturday, July 27, 2013

The Journal by Liv Honeywell and Domitri Xavier

I recently got to know the fascinating Liv Honeywell through her blog, and so am excited to share news of her latest release, The Journal!


“Come to my study at eight o’clock sharp. Dress for dinner. Wear high heels and put on that dress – you know what I expect of you.”

When the order comes Livia is torn between anticipation and dread.

Does he know? How could he possibly know what she has done? And how can she find the words and the courage to tell him?

As eight o’clock edges ever nearer, Livia waits outside the study door, trembling; uncertain of what she will find when she comes face to face with her Master.

If he knows… If he does, there will be consequences. There is no doubt about that.

What will be the price for her moment of disobedience?


He heard the knock on the door of his study. This was her signal that she had complied with all his instructions, not a request to enter. She would come in when he said so and she would never dare to knock again.

He had asked her to dress immaculately, smartly; as if they were going to dinner. Her hair must be perfect, away from her face. Her make up flawless, perhaps to look a little tarty, but she would know how far to go and the penalties for going over the top. She would be wearing elegant, high heeled shoes.

He told her to come in, gently, softly; as if she were merely coming in for a coffee or cocktails. Immediately she stepped into the room; looking down with her hands behind her. She would never look at his face directly without his express permission.

"Come to me."

She had no idea what to expect. Would he be soft and tender? Or would he sweep her off her feet by mauling her like an animal. She knew that her body was his and he could treat it in any way that pleased him.

He ran his fingers through her hair, gently folding it back and forth and her head moved with his every gesture. Then he thrust his fingers deep toward her skull and tugged at her hair, moving her head in all directions. She let out an involuntary squeal.

"This is no time for making such noises."

The quiet scream stopped immediately. She was under his power, his presence; his dominance. There was never any doubt about it.

He put his hands over her eyes and closed them, turning her face downwards. With effortless ease, he bound her hands behind her by her wrists and elbows. He loved the way that this pushed her breasts forwards and outwards. He had no need to bind her but it pleased him; a bound woman was an aesthetic pleasure.

He put one hand over her mouth. The other roamed over every contour of her body; her pouting breasts, her waist, behind her neck. He moved to her pussy and felt that it was already wet. Then both hands wandered quickly and powerfully over her whole body. She let out a yelp of pleasure which he immediately silenced with his strong fingers. She was his to do with as he wished.

He turned away from her, then turned back to look. She was beautiful. She was his. Her pain would be his pleasure...

I knocked on the study door, quietly, almost hesitantly. I knew so well the knots in the wood, the whorls and lines of the grain. How many times had I stood here, gazing at this door; trying to guess what would happen when I opened it?

I wondered how long he would have me wait. I didn't know what to think. Did he somehow know what I'd done? Had he been waiting for me to tell him, giving me the chance to own up? Hoping that I would before he had to make me? I couldn’t imagine how he could know, but... he had sounded distracted earlier. Not like himself.

I'd so wanted to confess. I really had. I'd tried all day yesterday. I'd tried today as well but I couldn’t make myself say it. I didn't want to see the look of disappointment in his eyes, the awful expression on his face that would come from knowing I'd done something absolutely forbidden.

And… and I was scared of the punishment, of how bad it would be. And now I’d made it worse. Not only for me but for him too. For how much more I’d let him down by not telling him the truth.

I hoped I could find the nerve to say it now. Maybe I could find a way to explain, though I wasn't sure I could explain it to myself. What on earth had I done?

I hoped he would allow me to speak, or I wouldn't be able to say a word, not even to confess. What would I do then? Wait until he was done with me and then tell him? Wait until he had used my body, whichever way he chose; wait until he had given me pleasure which I surely didn't deserve?

Then what? If I couldn't find the nerve now, if I hadn't found it earlier, what on earth made me think I would find it then?

I reached out and lightly traced the pattern of the wood with a finger tip. My hand was trembling and I slowed my breathing, doing my best to relax.

Then I heard his voice; such a beautiful deep voice, so calm and gentle. It gave me no clue to what he was thinking, to what he would do this time.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, closing it quietly behind me; keeping my eyes lowered the whole time. I clasped my hands behind my back and waited.

"Come to me," he said.

'Always,' I thought. 'Whenever you wish it.' I didn't say it, of course. I knew better than to speak without permission.

I kept my hands behind my back and walked over to him, my high heels clicking on the hard wood floor. I dared not look at him, but I so wanted to. Perhaps for reassurance that he wouldn't hurt me, although I knew he would; perhaps to see if the gentleness in his voice was there in his eyes; perhaps to search for something, anything in his expression to tell me what he was thinking.

He lifted a hand toward my face and I tried not to flinch, but he merely stroked my hair, twining his fingers through the length of it. I began to relax, leaning my head into his hand, until he grabbed a handful of hair close to my scalp and pulled hard, and I couldn't help letting out a small squeak of surprise.

"This is no time for making such noises," he said, still so calmly, so controlled, and I bit back the sound, unable to rid myself of the feeling that this was the calm before the storm.

His fingers gently covered and closed my eyes, and then I stood quietly while he tied my hands behind my back. Now I couldn't even see what was coming, and even if I could, I was helpless to prevent it.

He clamped his hand firmly over my mouth, stopping even the chance to protest, as his other hand explored my body, stroking and caressing - over my breasts, across my hips, between my legs. I blushed as I realised he must know how aroused I was.

He released my mouth and inspected my body with both hands, squeezing my breasts and my bottom, stroking my face, touching between my legs once more. I moaned softly and he covered my mouth again, muffling any noise I might make.

Was I not to be allowed even the slightest sound? To have to keep silent no matter what he might do to me? The thought of his control made me shiver and I swallowed hard, trying to hold back a sudden rush of desire. I tried to still myself, wondering if he had noticed.

Of course. Of course he had. He noticed everything. I wondered if it would make a difference to what he would do. If it pleased him that I couldn't hide my reactions or if I would be punished for moving, however slightly?

He stepped away from me and I waited for what would come...

Buying Links:

The Journal is available from Amazon US and Amazon UK.

Author Bios:

Liv Honeywell:

When not writing about delicious, hot male dominants and the female subs who love them, I’m usually doing something craft-like, reading, baking, eating the results of said baking, and attempting to satisfy the demands of His High and Mighty Dominance (the cat!). My first story, Imagine, was published with Silver Moon Books last year and Coming, Ready or Not is my first solo book. The Journal was co-written with Domitri Xavier.

You can follow me on my blog -, Twitter -, Facebook -, Goodreads - and my Amazon page is here:

Domitri Xavier:

Domitri Xavier comes from a rich heritage, including Russia, France and Yorkshire. He is the quintessential English gentleman and lives alone in his cavernous mansion, Upton Abbey.

Domitri is not only a writer, composer, pianist, raconteur, wit and poet, he also enjoys a number of hobbies; he breeds Basset Hounds, plays chess (although he has yet to record a victory) and he is a renowned collector of used tea bags – Earl Grey, naturally.

He fills his remaining time writing erotic fiction, much of it based on his own lifestyle at the Abbey.

The Journal is his first book and his poems have been published on Bitten Press’s website -

You can find Domitri on Facebook –, his Facebook friend page is, his blog is, his Goodreads page is and his Amazon page is

Friday, July 26, 2013

Bound for Trouble!

I'm totally excited to say that my story, "Paper Chains," will be in the amazing Alison Tyler's next bondage anthology, Bound for Trouble!

More details on the way, but if you want to see an example of how Ms. Tyler puts together a bondage anthology, check out The Big Book of Bondage, which I personally found very... inspiring.

If you'd like to see examples of my own bondage writing, you'll find me in Best Bondage Erotica 2013 and many other anthologies, or you can take the plunge and pick up my BDSM erotic romance thriller, The Fugitive's Sexy Brother.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Bonus Music Post: "Taken for a Fool" by The Strokes

"Mama, don't you forget my number." -- Julian Casablancas

It's never the wrong time to take a moment for a little Strokes appreciation. Damn, this song makes me feel cool.

I'm writing up a storm and feeling good. Thanks, Julian!

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Red 2 and the Bechdel Test

The Bechdel Test, which asks whether a movie shows two women talking to each other about something besides a relationship, offers one quick way of assessing whether a movie gives female characters a fair showing. Red 2, an action movie about a bunch of "retired, extremely dangerous" operatives, fails it, but in a really interesting way that looks to me like an unusual sort of success.

In Red 2, I didn't notice any female characters talking to each other about anything besides a relationship, but the male characters do exactly the same thing. Just about every private conversation between characters in the movie turns into an exchange of relationship advice, because the movie centers on the romantic relationship between main character Frank Moses and his girlfriend, Sara. In a lot of ways, the action feels like window dressing for this relationship.

I think the Bechdel Test reveals the many ways in which fiction often presents a woman's world as smaller than a man's. In Red 2, however, a man's world is just the same size, just as concerned with domestic affairs above all else. That's a nice way to fail the Bechdel Test.

In other news, I love this movie, as well as the original. It also has some great female characters--my particular favorite being Helen Mirren's Victoria, who can shoot a sniper rifle and create a flower arrangement with equal facility.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Design and Scandal

A quick note that I've got another book on the way from Ellora's Cave, this one to be released as part of their Curve Appeal theme series. The books in this series feature curvy women as protagonists. My story, Design and Scandal, is about a costume designer who has an on-set romance with a major movie star. More details to come!

My other books with Ellora's Cave are The Fugitive's Sexy Brother, a BDSM bounty hunter story, and Get Laid, a tale of renovations and madcap sexual adventures.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Music Mondays: "Cruisin" by T.I.

"I wonder if they can see her playing in her purple panties, blue bikinis." -- T.I.

I've been listening to this pretty obsessively lately. It's a great car sex song.

I was also really amused by the way T.I. tells the story behind the song:

Sunday, July 21, 2013

The Fugitive's Sexy Brother: A Tour Compilation

I recently did a blog tour for The Fugitive's Sexy Brother. If you'd like to enter to win a $5 gift card to Ellora's Cave, you still have time (you can find instructions in any of the tour posts)! I also wanted to gather up the links, because I am pleased with a lot of the posts.

Finding Mr. Wrong -- on the importance of having a good villain

Standing Out from a Field of Perfect Torsos -- on why it's not all about the alpha male

BDSM Comes in Different Flavors -- on how I used different tones for different BDSM relationships in the book

What a Character Has to Lose -- on how characters come to life when they care about odd things

It's Not Just About the Knots -- about how bondage doesn't always require expertise

Submission Isn't Weakness
-- on how my hero dominates my heroine only because she lets him

Suspiciously Obedient by Julia Kent

I'm very interested in Internet culture, particularly in the way the viral video effect can spread a moment of wrongdoing far and wide. Because of that, I was very intrigued when I saw this release:

From USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent comes the second book in her "Obedient" trilogy:


A fake persona with very real emotions...

As "Matt Jones," CEO playboy Michael Bournham has just stumbled into his wildest dream and worst nightmare while playing a middle-management employee role for a reality television stunt. Getting caught making love with his administrative assistant, Lydia Charles, on camera let unscrupulous Hollywood producers blackmail him before launching the video on YouTube. Fired from his job and ridiculed on social media, Mike needs to hit "reboot" on his life. Hiding Lydia away in Iceland with a made-up job, he sends his best friend Jeremy to watch over her. Meanwhile, he disguises himself once more and booked a cabin at Lydia's family's campground in Maine, to immerse himself in her world.

A best friend with deeper intentions...

After more than a decade of world travel and hedonistic fun, dot-com millionaire Jeremy wants more out of his friendship with Mike, but more than that - he wants Lydia. Struck by her beauty and essence, he follows Mike's order and obeys, courting her with a friendship that quickly becomes a deeper bond, charged by Lydia's fantasies about him - and Mike. Unable to resist, he becomes her confidante and bedmate, helping her to come to grips with her impulsive decisions and to find her way back home to Maine.

A woman torn by desire...

Lydia accepts the move to Iceland to become the Director of Communications for European Operations not realizing it's a sham position Michael Bournham created to help hide her from the firestorm of the viral sex tape. Living in a new country should be fun, but side glances and whispers from her new Icelandic employees dig at her. Ignored by her new boss at Bournham Industries, Lydia's disenchantment with her bold move is softened only by Jeremy's appearance. Wild and loose, he fills a void in her life - and soon fills her bed.

When she decides there's no place like home, the new couple embarks for her family's campground - and Jeremy's suspicious obedience will be revealed.


USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing romance novels after learning that she could not work as a fighter pilot because her fear of flying disqualified her. Turning to her second love, she became a dog groomer, but had to abandon that job after adopting too many strays. Writing about very real, very flawed people is a natural extension of her life and, well, her. She lives on the east coast with her partner, two small children, seventeen dogs that weigh less than fifteen pounds each, and a monthly consumption of Nutella, brie and french bread that makes cardiologists cringe.

 She is originally from Ohio.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at jkentauthor at gmail dot com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at Visit her blog at



Saturday, July 20, 2013

Get Laid: The First Chapter

Here's the first chapter of my new release from Ellora's Cave, Get Laid:

Chapter One
Thursday, June 21

Eliza Wu heard the whine of the vacuum cleaner as soon as she opened the front door to her house. The noise dashed her hopes of fun and relaxation with her husband, Jason. For the last two hours of her ten-hour work-day, she’d dreamed about curling up on the couch with Jason and a wine cooler, making out and maybe even getting past second base for the first time in weeks.

His cleaning indicated a bad mood over the state of their home renovations, leading to a rant, maybe another argument and certainly not the sex she’d planned to initiate. She sighed, slipped off the high heels she’d worn to work, and steeled herself.

She picked her way through the living room, using the narrow path they’d cleared. Eliza lifted her arms to avoid brushing against a teetering pile of books, stepped on a coat-hanger in the process and cursed at the sudden stab to her foot. Shaping her body into an awkward position, she managed to dangle her arm over an out-of-place stack of holiday decorations and set down her laptop bag beside the couch.

Both she and Jason preferred to keep the house neat, but the renovations made that impossible. The entire contents of their bedroom closet now occupied the living room, making way for contractors to restructure the house’s storage areas. Musty boxes from the basement invaded the hallway thanks to a big rewiring project that required a lot of space.

Eliza resisted the urge to straighten up in the living room. If her husband was vacuuming, he needed her attention now.
Jason vacuumed with such intensity that he hadn’t noticed Eliza enter the house. She paused in the doorway to the kitchen and took stock of the situation. Jason had shoved the table and most food from the pantry aside, blocking the refrigerator door in the process. That wine cooler seemed just as inaccessible as he did.

The contractors had done something to the ceiling. Plaster hung in ribbons and a thick layer of dust covered the top of the stove, the spice rack and the utensils in the holder beside the stove. Damn. Eliza vaguely remembered promising to move those.

Jason looked about as unkempt as the kitchen. Sweat gleamed in his short black hair, rolled down his forehead and soaked his button-up work shirt. Dust from the kitchen spattered his wide nose and lightened the color of his lips. His biceps and forearm muscles rippled as he jerked the vacuum cleaner back and forth with thick, harsh strokes. A frown wrinkled his otherwise unlined face as he grabbed the trash can and pulled it out of his way.

“Hey there, hot man,” Eliza said. “You doing okay?”

Jason grunted, switched off the vacuum, and stood gripping the handle for a moment before turning to her. He shook his head. “I thought they weren’t going to start in here until tomorrow. They said they didn’t put down plastic because we hadn’t moved our stuff out of the way. Now there’s plaster all over everything and we won’t be able to use the stove without setting a damn fire.”

Eliza’s face felt hot. “Jason, I’m so sorry, but I think I remember Bob telling me last week that they needed to get in here by today at the latest. I was going to move stuff—I had it on my calendar for last night—but I’ve been so busy organizing the fundraising dinner for work that it must have slipped my mind.” She did her best to keep her voice strong through her confession. They’d been fighting so much more than usual lately, and she didn’t think she had the energy for another argument after the day she’d just had.

Jason shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his back. “I don’t want to fight about this—”

“Good. Me neither.”

“But this is why I keep telling you how important it is to record every conversation we have with them in that shared document I set up online. We both need to be aware of everything. I could have helped you if I’d known.”

Eliza took a deep breath. She knew his request was reasonable, but she just hadn’t had time to figure out how to use his document-sharing program. “I’m sorry. Maybe this weekend I can get that open. I’d been thinking maybe we could go out, but I guess that’s not how life works when you’re a grown-up. I don’t know how people manage to have kids without going crazy.”

An odd expression crossed Jason’s face. He sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “I hope you’re wrong about what it means to be an adult. There has to be a better way. I don’t know if I can handle spending another weekend looking for ways to make more space in the attic.”

Eliza shook her head. “We’re going to have to if we don’t want more of our stuff to get ruined. I wish we could forget about it and be wild, but that’s not what responsible people do.” Eliza needed that wine cooler now. She headed for the pile he’d made and set about unearthing the refrigerator. She scrubbed one hand through her hair, undoing her short ponytail in the process. “At least this will be over in two weeks. We’ll have more than a month to make the house nice before our anniversary. I am so looking forward to that.”

By scooting the heaviest things out of the way with the side of her thigh, Eliza could open the refrigerator door just enough to slide her arm in and identify a wine cooler by shape. She snaked it out of the refrigerator, but her hand slipped on the sweating glass bottle just before she got it clear. It crashed to the floor and shattered, soaking the lower half of her stockings and the big bags of flour and rice from the pantry with pink, sugary alcohol. Shards of glass surrounded her and Eliza swallowed, thinking of her bare feet.

Her husband responded before she could. “Don’t move,” Jason said. He was barefoot himself, but that didn’t stop him from getting in close enough to sweep her up into his arms. The man might sit behind a desk all day at work, but he put in his time at the gym. His taut muscles flexed around Eliza as he lifted her out of the mess and glass and tucked her against his chest.

Jason carried Eliza to the other side of the room and set her on the table. “Are you all right? Did you cut yourself?” He lifted one sticky, stocking-covered foot in his hand and inspected it for injuries.

“I didn’t get hurt.” Eliza caught his other hand and brought it to her lips. “Thanks, Jason. Really.”

He kissed the side of her face in response, and she wished he’d gone for her mouth instead. She reached to pull him in for a better kiss, but before she could he crossed back to the refrigerator and folded his arms across his chest. Eliza and Jason both sighed.

“I think we’re going to have to throw all this food away because of the glass,” Jason said.

“I’m sorry.” She got off the table and tapped one foot, trying to remember where they’d moved the broom.

“You stay there. I’ll take care of this.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Eliza smiled, a little of the tension easing. “I want to do something really fun at home for our anniversary. It’s five years, and maybe our last chance before we have to grow up for real and behave. We should jump on the beds and have sex on the kitchen table.”

“About that…”


“If you haven’t opened the document I shared with you, then you didn’t see the note I made about the latest delay.”

Eliza’s voice darkened. “What?”

“When they checked out the master bathroom, they found a rotten beam. It needs to be fixed, but Bob said it means the job won’t be done until mid-August.”

“But that’s only two weeks before our anniversary! That’s more than a month behind schedule.”

Jason shrugged. He wrapped his hand in a dishtowel and began throwing items from the pantry into a big black trash bag. “I don’t like it any more than you. They have to finish the job eventually, one way or another.”

“He always finds something else! Did you ask him if he’s sure about the schedule this time?”

Jason stood abruptly and stepped away from the mess in front of the refrigerator. “I don’t want you criticizing me for how I talked to Bob. Why did we think renovations were a good idea?”

“Oh, Jason.” Eliza rushed to his side and tried to put her arms around him, but he shook her off.

Her husband rubbed one hand over his face. “I don’t want us to fight again. I want to have a nice time with you tonight. Do you know why I was upset when you got home? I left the office a little early and I was going to straighten up around here and make you dinner. If we could open the damn refrigerator, you’d see I picked up avocados and a bunch of other stuff you like. I got home and found the kitchen like this, and I knew I couldn’t get it sorted out in time to surprise you.”

Jason grunted and tossed a few more things into the trash bag. Eliza hovered nearby, wishing she could wave their problems away and start the fun they both wanted. She found herself staring at his firm ass, trying to remember the last time she’d really grabbed it. They’d always had a good relationship, a hot relationship. She’d been shocked to see how the stress of renovations had reduced them to sniping at each other.

“I miss you, Jason.”

He stopped moving. “What do you mean?”

“I miss your body. When was the last time we really had some time to ourselves?”

“You mean other than time we spend complaining to each other about the renovations from hell?”

“I love that you were going to make me dinner. Really, I do. It’s just there’s something I might need more than dinner. I think we both need it.”

A slow grin spread over Jason’s face. “I may have had an ulterior motive when I decided to make you dinner.”

“I hope you did.” Eliza reached out to him with one hand. “Can’t we clean it up in the morning? We have to stop letting these renovations ruin our lives.”

Jason took her in his arms before she finished her sentence. Eliza leaned up toward him as her lips demanded the kiss she’d been thinking about a few minutes before. She closed her eyes, caught up in the familiar, unique smell of him.

Over five years of marriage, Jason had learned exactly how Eliza liked to be kissed. She could relax into it, knowing he’d ease her mouth open at just the right pace, find her tongue with unerring precision and direct his fingers toward the spot behind her ear that felt the best.

“Mmm.” Eliza wrapped her arms around him, rocking her hips forward until she could feel his erection. Even through clothes, the contact sent a jolt through her body. She had needed this.

She did what she’d been fantasizing about a moment before, sliding her hands down his back to grip his ass and squeeze. Without letting Jason break the kiss, Eliza worked her hands down the back of his pants, wanting to feel his bare skin.

Jason grinned against her mouth and picked her up off the floor. Eliza needed some more. She loved it when he showed off his strength. He cradled her securely, one arm supporting her shoulders and the other holding her thighs.

Settling her closer against his body, Jason came up for air and cocked his head to one side. “Where the hell am I carrying you? The bedroom’s a mess.”

“Couch? I don’t know.”

“Couch,” Jason agreed, and resumed kissing her. He started a slow walk in the direction of the living room, holding Eliza steady while she attacked the buttons of his shirt.

The kiss so absorbed Eliza that she didn’t think to remind Jason about the glass on the floor, and he must have been in the same condition. The lustful growls in the back of his throat turned into one loud, sincere growl, followed by a string of cursing.

Eliza clung to the back of his neck. “Jason? What’s the matter?”

“Glass! Damn it.” He rushed to the table and set her down again, then hopped up beside her to examine his foot. Eliza winced in sympathy at the wicked shard lodged in his sole and the bright blood welling up around it.

“I’ll go get the first aid kit,” she said.

“Do we even know where it is?”

“I’ll find it.”

Eliza ran to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet. When she returned a moment later, Jason had collapsed onto his back on the kitchen table.

“You okay?”

“Fine, other than the blood coming out of my foot. You’ve got a bandage?”


He propped himself up on one elbow and studied the scene in the kitchen while Eliza used tweezers to pull the glass out of his foot.

“Sweetheart?” Jason said once she had it clear.


“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to clean that mess up tonight. Now. As soon as you’re done with the bandage.”

Eliza caught the meaning hidden behind the words. “So you’re saying no more fun for the night.” She poured hydrogen peroxide over the cut on his foot.

“I’m afraid so. I just can’t concentrate on anything besides getting all this stuff out of our kitchen. Not even you. I’m sorry.”

His wife sighed. “I get it. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Eliza glared up at him. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Please do.”

“Fine.” She squirted antiseptic onto the bandage in her hand. “I want us to get a hotel room. Tomorrow night. We’re going to make love if it kills us.”


You can pick up the full book here.

Friday, July 19, 2013

Get Laid Today!

Renovators have invaded the home of Jason and Eliza Wu. The two haven’t seen a clean surface in months and, even worse, haven’t had a moment to themselves. With stress in their work lives added to stress at home, the couple desperately needs to have some fun. Jason and Eliza embark on a bold plan to make love and get out of the house—at the same time. Through a series of hot adventures and wild mishaps in the car, at Eliza’s mother’s house, on the top floor of the library and everywhere in between, Jason and Eliza find that not only can they survive renovations, they might even be sorry when they’re over.

A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

I had a ton of fun writing this book—-Jason and Eliza's relationship stays strong because they both have a strong sense of humor and like to have fun together. I hope you like it, too!

You can pick it up here.

While you're at the Ellora's Cave site, check out my other title there, The Fugitive's Sexy Brother.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Icarus Bleeds Out Today!

I've been waiting a long time to announce this one--Icarus Bleeds is that rare story that seemed to spring out fully formed, a gift from the muse in exchange for my long hours of grinding devotion. The novella is out today from Forbidden Fiction, and the story page here will include links to various sites where it can be purchased.

Here's the blurb:

Icarus, a man on the run, dreams of wings, and of taking flight like the surgically modified rich and famous of Central City. The hacker who harbors him will do anything to keep him, including paying for the dangerous operation in a back alley chop shop. Neither can imagine how much the wings will truly cost. (M/M)

And the opening:

I will call him Icarus, because he worked so hard to erase his birth name that I will not commit the sin of returning it to him now. The things I said and did when I knew him will only make sense if you understand how beautiful he was, so I will try to force the words of mortals to describe a man who never seemed to belong to earth at all.

Icarus first came to me in the dark, in the rain, passing out of the shadows falling over the street, slipping smoothly into the shadows I made for myself. His eyes glowed from the corner where he took a seat, huddled under shelves loaded with discarded computer equipment. Even then I wondered how a shadow could be so luminous within a shadow, how black could shimmer from within black.

I wasn’t in the habit of looking at my clients. They came because they wanted to be forgotten, and they generally did not want to be seen either. I could not help myself with Icarus. He reminded me of flesh I liked to pretend I didn’t have. Eyes, lips, fingertips, inner thighs, the sides of my stomach, the soles of my feet. And, yes. Tongue. Cock. Thoughts both crude and poetic competed to distract me from the mechanical process of obscuring someone from all the files and IP addresses that affirmed that person’s existence.

I avoided looking at his skin, a lighter shade of what is called black than my own purple-tinged pigment. Icarus’s brand of black flowed with honey, shone with sunlight, glittered with the gold that may once have be- longed to Pharaoh. Long, thin fingers, delicate as a girl’s. Red-gold palms, and the beginnings of a scar, a telltale revelation of a story that started in the hands and parted the flesh of the forearm nearly to the elbow.

He saw me looking, and pulled the sleeves of his sweater down low, clutching bunches of the material in clenched fists. “Can you really make me disappear?”

I snorted. “Of course not. Not these days, not with the backups they keep and the triple cross checks they have to avoid failure conditions. Best I can do is make them forget to look for you.”

He nodded, the gesture emphasizing the length of his neck, the quality of his silence. “How much?”

“How much you got?”

He shrank back from me, receding into the forest of parts and cords. “I’m not looking for favors.”

“I don’t do favors. I do a sliding scale. You pay what you can afford to pay. What you think is fair. I trust you.”


I sighed. No one ever understood this when I bothered to explain. “Because I’m not one of them. I don’t want to act like one.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving gracefully up and down in that impossibly lean neck. “I was going to see what you would take.” He bit his lip and didn’t explicate, but I got an idea of what he’d had in mind by the way his hands crept toward his fly, the gesture so subtle that I wasn’t sure it had been a conscious invitation.

On any other night, with any other man, I wouldn’t have. I would have kissed that smooth, wide forehead, done my work for free, and sent him back into the street uttering the vague promise that someday, when he could, he would take care of me. With Icarus, I could not resist the offer. I had to keep him a little longer. Though I hated myself for it, the sentence passed my lips as if it made up part of my daily stock in trade. “After I finish, you’ll come upstairs with me.”

His bowed head telegraphed his acquiescence well before his soft words. “Thank you.”


I should warn you that this is a dark story, but it's also one of the best I've written. You'll find the rest here.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Interview with Lula Lisbon!

When I read the blurb and excerpt for Lula Lisbon's new release, Cinderella: A BDSM Retelling, my jaw dropped, and I couldn’t send the request to interview her fast enough. It sounded like a such a deliciously kinky subversion of the well-known tale, and she was kind enough to tell me all about it. Let's get to it!

Me: The obvious kink for a Cinderella story is foot fetish, but you’ve gone for a whole lot more—-pegging, forced feminization, sissification, and a bunch of others. What made you connect those themes with Cinderella? 

LL: Well, in my Cinderella, she is an apprentice to two stepsisters, Druscilla and Arabelle Ravyn, who have a tight grip of control on their city’s Society of Houses. The Houses are places where clients can indulge in any kind of kinky fantasy with a Mistress or Master; Druscilla specializes in Cock and Ball Torture, or CBT, and Arabelle is known for her beatings. After their parents made an alliance to form the House of Ravyn, their fame skyrocketed. The stepsisters looked alike enough to be blood, and at times that’s a taboo fantasy they have on offer for their clients.

As much as I enjoy foot fetish, I had much grander ideas planned for my retelling of Cinderella. Who needs magical shoes when you could have a magical strap-on that comes to life, instead? I really enjoy writing femdom and forced feminization – although maybe I didn’t realize the extent of that enjoyment until I got wrist-deep in Cinderella, if you’ll pardon the fisting pun.

I really wanted to create a semi-modern feel, with aspects of goth, metal, and 24/7 BDSM culture along with a liberal sprinkling of magic. I adore magic, and I just couldn’t take that out. Cinderella’s City is modern, but you can imagine that it might just exist in an alternative universe.

Me: Could you give a few examples of things that appear in the original story and how you’ve changed them for your story? 

LL: Of course there are still stepsisters. Originally they were going to be twins, but when they surprised me with a really hot sex scene involving punishing Cinderella for perceived impertinence, I thought it would be safer to change them back into stepsisters. This novella, if I say so myself, is too good to risk it being banned anywhere!

Another big thing is the heteronormativity. I cut my teeth on romance novels, and I was a big fan for years – but that was before I realized I was a lesbian. The rampant sexism and dog-tired alpha male tropes burned me out on the genre for years. I’m still a sucker for a good romance, but anything not doggedly cliché in regards to gender roles is what really interests me now.

But of course, the most important part would be the switching of the magical shoes for a magical strap-on that comes to life! To quote Fairy Kink Mother on that particular bit of cleverness: “Damn, I’m good.”

Me: Tell me more about this magical strap-on. I myself would love to really know how it feels to have sex as a man.
LL: Not being a man myself, this involved a bit of speculation. I’m very happily female-bodied, but I’ve had plenty of fun with strap-ons – on both ends. I’ve written erotica from the point of view of both men and women, though, so I don’t think it was much of a stretch. Cinderella is able to fuck – and to cum – with both her female parts and her magical male parts; she has just as much fun with this magical providence as you can imagine. Her male orgasms are shorter and more animalistic compared to her female ones. In contrast, the submissive rock star Kink-Bottom Prince, who in the story is looking for a new live-in Mistress, explores his feminine side; with the help of Cinderella’s magic cock, he takes her inside of him and is able to have multiple non-ejaculatory orgasms, just as a woman does. I might add, this is entirely possible and realistic – when I was still dating my ex-boyfriend, I witnessed this phenomenon and thought it was amazing. I wrote it much as I experienced it.

Me: I have to ask what you think of the Disney Cinderella. 

LL: What little girl doesn’t love the concept? Cinderella was always one of my favorite fairy tales, and I loved the movie as a child. But, again, the heteronormativity. I haven’t watched it in years.


Fairy Kink Mother versus Fairy Godmother. What are three things they have in common and three things they absolutely don’t have in common? 

LL: Common denominators:
1. She appears magically and saves Cinderella when she needs help the most.
2. Kindly and with a bit of sense of humor at herself, but also quite self-satisfied at the opportunity to show off.
3. The magic only lasts until midnight.

Uncommon denominators:
1. Fairy Kink Mother is like a magical case worker. She has many clients, and often is run thin trying to manage them all, magically speaking. She has enough magic to last until midnight, but she promises to return to append the spell to permanence once she has attended to some other urgent cases. Still, she has a raunchy and mischievous sense of humor, and can laugh at anything.
2. Fairy Kink Mother, while quite kindly, is not altogether altruistic. She has won the prestigious award of Fairy Kink Mother of the Year six years running, and is determined to keep the winning streak alive. She likes to show off, and is bit more vengeful than an angelic Fairy Godmother would be.
3. Fairy Kink Mother knows all your innermost fantasies and desires, and is not shy about sex in the slightest. You know, she sounds quite a bit like me – something that my beta readers pointed out to me!

Me: You mentioned on your blog that you originally envisioned this story as a shorter work. Was there a particular scene or concept that you just had to expand? 

LL: The very first inking of inspiration for Cinderella: A BDSM Retelling was actually sparked by a call for submissions for an anthology of kinky fairy tales. The maximum word count was 5,000 words. I didn’t end up submitting because my idea hadn’t coalesced fully yet, and I think that that was a blessing in disguise. After releasing my erotic science fiction novelette, Doubled, in which a sexy lady scientist who has always been too shy to be with a woman clones herself and sexiness ensues, I’ve been meaning to write longer pieces. Doubled clocked in at a bit above 12,000 words, and at over 21,000, Cinderella is nearly the double of Doubled! Maybe I should have called it Cinderella: BDSM to the Fourth Power. I’m gradually challenging myself to write longer and longer pieces until –oops!—I’m at novel length!

Anyway, to really answer your question, the ballroom scene ended up much longer than I expected. Cinderella comes and steals the show, playing out an intense BDSM scene with Kink-Bottom Prince in front of the cream of the Society of Houses’ elite. I had a few specific acts in mind, and I didn’t want to rush any of them.

And of course there was a scene with a client, earlier on, in which I had Cinderella explore forced feminization and realize just what it was she wanted in her perfect submissive. Then there was the ménage a trois with the stepsisters, and the delightful scene where Fairy Kink Mother appears… I could go on, but I suggest you read the book instead!

Me: Anything else you’d like to add? 

LL: I adore fairy tale retellings. My first was Wolf Moon: Redd’s First Ride, in which I took the story of Red Riding Hood and turned it into an alternate pre-Emancipation America, complete with racial divide and werewolves, called weyres, being the enslaved race. I previously thought that it would be a quintet of novelettes, but maybe I’ll just rework it and release it as a novel all at once. I’m not sure yet.
And if you like paranormal romance, I have a great concept for a BDSM retelling of Beauty and the Beast, which will also be of novella length. I don’t want to say much here, but if you enjoyed Wolf Moon, and if you enjoy Cinderella, you will without a doubt enjoy Beauty and the Beast: A BDSM Retelling. However, I don’t have a release date on that determined as of yet.

To pitch a bit more, if you enjoy science fiction, I would definitely suggest Doubled: An Erotic Science Fiction Novelette. It’s one of my favorite pieces I’ve written to date, and perfect for the bi-curious with an appetite for fantastical yet plausible science.

Me: I’m so pleased you took the time to answer my questions! I hope Cinderella does well for you.

LL: Thanks again for having me, and for the interesting questions. I very much appreciate it.


A femme queer-identified woman residing in Philadelphia, Lula Lisbon enjoys penning LGBT erotica and romance. Lula’s interests include historical fashions, dark music, and craft beers. She loves to bicycle as much as possible, and stays tight and toned with a grueling regime of pole dance fitness classes.

Lula’s femdom story “Icing on the Cake” is her first to be included in a print anthology — editor Rachel Kramer Bussel’s The Big Book of Orgasms. It will be released by Cleis Press in October 2013.

Lula loves to hear from her fans, and they can find her on Twitter: @LulaLisbon; on Facebook:; on her website:; or they can email her directly at

Cinderella: A BDSM Retelling is now available at Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Rainbow eBooks, and soon available on Sony, Diesel, and iTunes.

As for Lula’s entire catalogue, it is available at Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, Sony, Kobo, Diesel, and Rainbow eBooks.


Leave your email address and your thoughts on this post in the comments section to be entered to win an eBook copy of Doubled: An Erotic Science Fiction Novelette by Lula Lisbon.

Check out the rest of Lula's tour stops here.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Fun Things to Come

I've been staying up late working this past week, into the wee hours of the morning with no one but Julian Casablancas to comfort me. I'm pretty tired, but I think this week is going to lead to some future fun for anyone who likes to read my stuff.

In the meantime, here's a quick list of sexy stories that have come out in the past few days or will be out soon:

Safekeeping, a story of erotic obsession, is out in ebook form, and as part of Made for Hire, a collection from Sweetmeats Press. The ebook is available now, and a print edition will be out soon.

Under the Slippers, a lesbian foot fetish menage story, is out in Ladies Who Love from Harper Collins Mischief.

Icarus Bleeds, an m/m story of body modification and tragic love, will be out soon from Forbidden Fiction.

I've heard a rumor that Baby Got Back will be out soon, and it includes my story, "Better Than a Massage," about the relaxing quality of lesbian anal sex with a strap-on.

And... drum roll... I've got a release date for my next book from Ellora's Cave, Get Laid. It'll be out July 19, and I found it rather... exciting... to read when I was editing it (it's fun to read my own writing when I don't remember it anymore -- it's like having someone who knows me really well write a fantasy just for my enjoyment). This is actually the first novel-length piece I wrote, though due to the vagaries of release dates, it's the third to actually be released.

Finally, please check out this space tomorrow. I've got an interview coming up with Lula Lisbon, and I'm really excited about her no-holds-barred approach to kink. If you can't wait to find out about Lula's work, check out her other blog tour stops here.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Music Mondays: "Instant Crush" by Daft Punk featuring Julian Casablancas

"I want to take you to that place in the Roche, but no one gives us any time anymore." -- Julian Casablancas

I've featured Daft Punk and Julian Casablancas separately in recent weeks, but this song is responsible for both previous posts. This is my real love off Random Access Memories. I have listened to it a sick amount of times, and I've written multiple stories with this thing cued up on infinite loop.