From a Friend: Damned If You Do

I like where Lisabet Sarai's work has been going lately. She's always written intensely emotional BDSM, and her writing has always been filled with raw sexual honesty. Lately, though, I feel like there's a new spark in her stories, that she's going deeper into what interests her psychologically. In many cases, those things really hit home to me as a writer, and this newest book sounds like no exception. Lisabet provided me with a wealth of info about Damned If You Do, her new contemporary BDSM retelling of Faust. (By the way, this is genius! What with contracts being part of the mythology, this seems like a very natural fit with the BDSM romance genre.)

If you're like, yes, cool, but Lisabet's work is an auto-buy for me, so I already know I want it, you can find the book here. Otherwise, you'll get another chance when you read to the end. There are links there, too, and information about the contest Lisabet is running!

Here's what Lisabet has to say:

Of Frustration and Temptation

Being an author is not for sissies. You pour your heart and soul into your stories. You spend hours of your scarce time and more money than you can afford on marketing. With each new release, you hope you’ll finally grab the attention of the book-buying crowd, that you’ll get the readership and the remuneration you deserve.

If that doesn’t happen (and given the number of people publishing books these days, odds are that it won’t), you’re stuck with the bitter knowledge that all your passion and effort were for nothing. This can be deeply demoralizing, even if you’re not trying to make your living as an author. If you depend on your writing to pay your bills, you’ve got financial anxiety added to your frustration.

I know this frustration only too well. My books receive consistent five star reviews, but somehow I’ve never been a commercial success. Thus, Damned If You Do is a rather personal story.

What would I do if I could magically turn my books into best sellers? How much would that be worth to me? That’s the question my romance author heroine faces when a mysterious stranger shows up waving a contract and promising her fame and fortune, sensual pleasure and the fulfillment of her most secret desires.

All he asks in return is her soul.

Crazy. Dangerous, maybe. But so, so tempting!

Here's a description of the story:

Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can't get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?

Nothing you can't afford to lose, my dear.

Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love.

Here's a taste of it:

The limo deposited her in front of her little house and floated away. A bit weary from the lengthy ordeal at the salon, Wendy almost tripped over the figure sitting on her front steps.

“Dan! What are you doing here?”

Her agent looked rumpled and haggard. He didn’t even bother to stand, though his eyes were hungry as he surveyed her.

“You don’t answer my calls. You ignore my emails. I figured the only way I could get through to you was to show up at your door.”

“Emails? I haven’t heard from you in months! I figured you were mad at me…”

“Every day, Wendy. I’ve sent you a message every single day. I’ve called again and again. That damned personal assistant of yours answers every time.” He rose to his feet finally, looking around with a scowl. “Where is the bastard, anyway?”

“I—um—I’m not sure. I think he’s doing some errands.” She rummaged in her bag for her key. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

“No. You come with me.” He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her down the walkway toward a gray Taurus with a Steelers Rent-a-Car decal parked across the street. “You’ve got to get away from that guy. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What are you talking about? He’s been great for my career.”

Dan grabbed her shoulders and shook her, hard. “Wake up, Wendy! He’s got you under some kind of spell. You’ve become a totally different person.”

She tore herself free. “Yeah, I have. Instead of being a loser, I’m finally a successful author.”

“You’ve cut yourself off from everyone. I got an email from Jenna the other day. You do remember Jenna, right? Your old friend Jenna Martin? She was worried. Said she hadn’t been able to get in touch for weeks.”

Jenna. How odd. Wendy hadn’t even thought about her, not since that afternoon in the coffee shop when her crit partner sent the link about Sapphire Sands. The afternoon Mister B had come into her life. In the old days, they communicated nearly every day.

“I’ve been busy. Busy writing.”

“Is that all you’ve been doing? That slimy character Bent loves to suggest you two have been involved in other activities…”

She tried to take his arm. He shook her off. “Please, Dan, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve finally found my writing groove. Everything is going great.” She flashed him what she hoped was a charming smile. “I’m going to be on the Breakfast in America show later this week.”

“I wondered why you were all gussied up.” His bitter tone made her wince.

“You should be happy for me. After all, I’m making plenty of money for you, too!”

“Forget about money for once. What about feelings?” He grabbed her with both hands, pulled her close and held her tight against his body.

Here's where you can buy the book:

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Excessica

Goodreads

(Other booksellers coming soon.)

And Lisabet is giving away some prizes!

I will be giving away three $10 bookstore gift certificates during my release blitz, and three free ebook copies of my BDSM erotic romance The Gazillionaire and the Virgin. I will also give a $5 GC to a randomly selected host. The blitz ends June 1st.

To enter, readers must:

Sign up for my VIP email list: https://signup.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

AND/OR:

Leave a comment with their email address on my release day announcement page: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2017/04/out-today-damned-if-you-do-bdsm-pnr.html

About Lisabet:

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

Guest Cover Reveal: The Tutor

I'm really interested in erotica that explores nontraditional territory, as any fans of my work will know. My book, Untouched, focuses on a character who is sexually voracious but can't stand to be touched. She starts out treating her condition as a problem, but in the end claims and embraces it, declares that she's worthy of love as she is, and does a lot of hot things on the way to that realization.

I personally am very turned on by limitations. (I mentioned this recently at a workshop I was teaching, and an astute friend and reader commented, "Says the person who wrote an entire erotic novel about someone who doesn't like to be touched." I thought it was a good point.) I often think that's what hottest isn't doing anything and everything but finding ways to accommodate desire around the needs of the individuals involved in an encounter.

That said, I was fascinated to learn about KD Grace's forthcoming novel, The Tutor, which also explores sexual situations that don't involve direct touch. The glimpses I've gotten are evocative and intriguing, and I know KD Grace to be a fabulous, creative, generous writer. Her book will be available for preorder starting August 30th, for early download from her publisher's website (Totally Bound) starting September 13th, and for general release from all over the place starting October 11th.

I'm very excited to share an early look at it. Without further ado, I'll turn this over to KD:

***

Sometimes It Sizzles When Things Go Pear-Shaped

by KD Grace

I've been barely able to contain myself this past two weeks, just bursting to tell you the good news, and now at last I can. Not only can I tell you that my steamy contemporary romance novel, The Tutor, has been snapped up by the Totally Entwined imprint of Totally Bound, but I can now reveal the gorgeous cover which sizzles with the creative genius of Emmy Ellis.

The Tutor has a very special place in my heart because it had its beginnings last October at Smut Manchester during Kay Jaybee's wonderfully wicked "trip to the supermarket" workshop on inspiration. We were all given an item from the supermarket shelf and told we'd been called over the loudspeaker to go to the stockroom. From that we were to write the beginnings of a story about what we'd find in the stockroom and what we'd do with our item in said stockroom. I still remember the smug little smirk on Ms. Jaybee's face when she handed me the slip of paper that read A tin of pears in heavy syrup. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that before the weekend was out, I'd have the seeds for a novel that just had to be written. In fact, it needed to be written so badly that I signed up for NaNoWriMo—National Novel Writing Month in November and wrote the whole 95K in one month! Here's just a taste of the end result. Enjoy!

Blurb:

Struggling writer Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valens, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues. The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.


Excerpt:

“Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.

“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know -- down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”

“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”

He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”

With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”

Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”

“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.

“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”

“What do you like?” His words were a labored rasp against the back of his throat, and Kelly found herself stunned by the question, and way more aroused than she wanted to be. He shouldn’t have asked. She should have answered. But she did.

“I like it this way.” She shifted her hips and opened a little further so he could see her thrust and scissor, circle and probe technique, and her body responded with the tight grip and release of muscle memory.

“Jesus,” he whispered, moving forward on the sofa and leaning closer for a better look. “And when someone uses their tongue?”

She caught her breath in a giddy laugh. “Afraid I can’t tell you what I do since, sadly I’m not that flexible.”

“But you can tell me what you like.” His voice had gone rough.

“I like the flat of the tongue to part me and then probe me, circle my clit and then kiss and suck.” She closed her eyes, finding it difficult to meet his gaze when she spoke about something so intimate, so secret. Come to think of it, she’d never had a man actually ask her how she liked it. The few who had given a rat’s ass about her pleasure had been happy enough to let her order them about, but never quite got the hang of it.

It was the loud schussing sound that caused her to open her eyes. Lex had moved the coffee table out of the way paying no attention to the slosh of pear juice all over the towel V had spread. His eyes were locked on Kelly as he fished out his own pear half and fell to his knees in front of her. When she realized what the man was about to do she dropped the pear she’d been holding with a little gasp of surprise and scooted as far back in the chair as she could. He knelt low, holding the pear in the cup of his hand, as she had, placing it against the edge of the chair between her legs! She gave a little yelp and scrambled back in the chair still further, spreading her thighs over the rise of the chair arms to keep from touching him. He moved forward, the back of his hand so close to her crotch that she could feel the heat of it, and he lowered himself still further until his hair nearly brushed the insides of her thighs. Then, still looking up at her from his position on the floor, he began at the bottom of the open pear half and ran his tongue flat and undulating all the way up, flicking in just slightly in a little circle at the top end before he closed his lips around the apex and she could hear the slurp and suck of the sweet syrup.

“Oh! Lex! Ah!” And then she went non-verbal, holding her breath, tightening muscles deep inside her body, the only muscles she dared to move if she were to keep from touching him. She raised both arms and fisted her hands in a suicide grip around the back of the chair to keep from curling them in his hair. Her thighs trembled from her efforts to keep her legs on the chair arms and not throw them over his shoulders for leverage. She didn’t move. She didn’t breath as he licked and nuzzled and suckled until pear juice ran down his chin and onto his tee-shirt, until his face was damp and sticky, until his forehead was sheened with perspiration, and still he held her gaze as though they were locked together in each other’s orbit neither able to move without the other’s consent.

“Oh God, I’m gonna come.” She barely managed a warning when his own convulsion brought him dangerously near her body. He had stopped breathing, she was sure of it. She practically climbed the back of the chair to keep from touching him as he lost control. Then with a tremendous gasp of oxygen, he straightened, let the pear fall from his hand onto the aubusson carpet and looked up at her.

“I’m going to pass out.” And he did.

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall:

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, 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 is. Otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

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

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches 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, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.

Find K D Here:

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk
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Guest Post: Not for the Faint of Heart

My friend Lisabet Sarai has released a new, expanded edition of her book, Incognito. I am so here for books that don't portray love and lust as opposites, and I am so here for Lisabet's uninhibited, sensual writing style. Check out what she has to say (there's an excerpt, too)! Lisabet is one of the writers who inspired me when I was starting out, and she continues to inspire me. I'm really excited to see this latest release. Without further ado, here's Lisabet:

My publisher has slapped a paragraph-long reader’s advisory on my new release, Incognito. Personally, I don’t like the prissy tone of their notice. On the other hand, I don’t want to offend any readers who pick up the book without a clear understanding that it contains taboo content.

And I’m willing to admit, some people might be shocked. The book is not for the faint of heart. Both Miranda and Mark are polymorphously perverse characters, attracted to both their own and the opposite sex. They’re natural switches, drawn to roles on both sides of the BDSM power equation. The book includes pretty much every variety of sexual encounter, from age play to cross-dressing. I’m sure that some readers would dismiss the book as nothing but gratuitous sex.

That’s not how I see it, though. Incognito is, first and foremost, the story of one woman’s journey to realize and express her sexuality. Miranda’s heart-crushing initiation into sex leaves her emotionally scarred, unable to reconcile the experiences of love and lust. She’s ultimately healed by her relationship with Mark, a man who’s open and accepting of all her desires.

Incognito

Betrayed and abandoned by her first lover, shy and studious Miranda Cahill freezes in response to any sexual attention from someone she knows and likes.

During the day, she works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, though, she finds herself drawn into increasingly extreme sexual encounters with strangers. Her anonymous secret life begins to take over when she discovers that the masked seducer she meets in a sex club and the charismatic young professor courting her are the same man.

Reader Advisory: This book contains mention of incest involving an aunt and nephew and also scenes of incest involving a pair of M/F cousins. There is both M/M and F/F content within this book, as well as public sex, ménage et trois, swapping of partners, use of foreign objects during sex, anal sex and a scene of dubious consent.

Excerpt

She rose, circled the table, and sat down beside him, taking his hand. “I’m more than ready,” she told him. “But since we are playing Truth or Dare here, I have to be honest about what I have been doing the past few weeks.”

Putting aside her embarrassment, she recounted her amorous adventures since their meeting. He knew, of course, of the ménage à trois, and tonight’s kinks. She told him about coupling in the alley with the Japanese businessman from the subway. She described her experiences with Big Daddy’s discipline, her frightening delight at being spanked and sodomized. Wincing internally, watching his reaction, she confessed her risky debauchery on the billiard table. Mark’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

“Finally,” said Miranda, “this sexual frenzy is intruding into my work life. You remember that day you found me in the library? If you had arrived only a few moments sooner, you would have found me with my fingers in my pussy, grinding away in orgasm.”

“Yes,” said Mark, amusement in his voice. “I knew about that. But these other tales—Miranda, you amaze me!”

“You’re not angry? Or shocked?”

“Of course not.” He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. “I’m delighted that I’ve finally found a partner as adventurous and horny as I am.” He nipped at her earlobe. Sparks leapt up between her legs. Miranda’s whole body sprang to attention, nipples alert, straining to be touched, clitoris equally insistent. His mouth captured hers in one of his fierce, all-consuming kisses, while his hands wandered over her silk-clad torso.

“Let’s go into the bedroom,” gasped Miranda, when she could breathe again. She ached to lay down with this man, to open herself to him.

“I have a better idea,” said Mark. He stood and stripped off his shorts. His erection stood proudly, bobbing in the candlelight. Miranda pulled her dress over her head and tossed it in a corner. The remains of her hairdo disintegrated, ebony locks tumbling over her shoulders.

Moving to one of the windows, he threw it open. Before Miranda grasped what was happening, he stepped through, and held out his hand to her. “Fire escape,” he said with a hint of his usual grin. A thrill passed through her as she understood what he had in mind.

She followed him through the window. A cool breeze off the harbor caressed her bare skin. The wrought iron platform was rough under her feet. She smelled fried batter, rotting fish, incense, anise. A neon sign on a neighboring roof painted her body in lurid reds and greens.

The apartment looked out on an alley. It was nearly three in the morning. Still, if anyone were to pass by, she and Mark would be completely exposed.

She loved that thought.

Mark positioned her with her back to the iron railing. “Spread your legs, and hold on.” He crouched before her, gazing at her moist folds arrayed before him. He blew lightly on the delicate flesh. She twitched and trembled in response. “Oh, Miranda,” he sighed, and buried his hungry mouth between her thighs.

There was no tentativeness here, no teasing touches designed to arouse her. In one swift movement he sucked her throbbing clitoris into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. Miranda’s knees buckled. She forced a fist into her mouth to stifle her moans. Mark ate her pussy the same way that he kissed, forcefully, ferociously, with a single-minded intensity that left her dizzy and weak.

Now he used his hands to open her labia wide. He fastened his mouth on her inner lips, applying a delicious suction as if he were devouring the sweet pulp of some juicy fruit. Meanwhile, his tongue probed her deeply, setting up echoes of his studded cock earlier in the evening. Mark’s saliva felt scalding hot on her sensitized tissues, still inflamed from their earlier battering.

The memory of his leather-clad erection superimposed itself upon the current scene. She felt his tongue grow longer and thicker, until it seemed to fill her completely. She pushed her sex at his mouth, her hips tensing as she tried to drive him deeper. She smelled his sweat, and hers. Faintly, as if in the distance, she heard again the snap of the lash and the ribald encouragement of the audience.

The iron railing bit into her back, awakening the sting of her welts, but Miranda hardly noticed. All thought, all attention, was focused on the glorious play of sensations between her legs. She sank her fingers into her partner’s hair and pulled his face into her crotch. He changed his technique in response, sweeping his tongue along the length of her crevice, from her clit to the tender edge of her rear hole and back. Faster and faster he stroked, while Miranda felt orgasm coiling within her, wound tight, waiting.

The aching need suffused her flesh. Her body was strung like a harp, every nerve stretched toward elusive release. She was so close. It seemed that the merest touch would topple her over the edge, and yet she hovered there, seemingly forever, while Mark plied her sex with fingers, lips, tongue and teeth. Her pleasure was tinged, however slightly, with frustration.

Suddenly, Mark rose from his haunches and stood before her. He brushed her lips with his. Miranda felt stickiness, knew the salty seaweed taste of her own arousal. “Relax,” Mark murmured, cupping a breast while he nuzzled just above her collarbone. “Just relax, and trust me.” Miranda felt something shift at the warm sound of his voice. A clenching in her chest, of which she had not been consciously aware, loosened and seemed to evaporate. “Give yourself to me, Miranda, all of yourself. Don’t hold back.”

As he uttered these words, he reached down and thrust four fingers into Miranda’s cunt. She convulsed around him, finally released. The orgasm went on and on, waves of delight radiating from her center. Fingertips, toes, earlobes, nipples, tingled and sparked as electric pleasure surged through her. Dimly, she heard herself scream, harsh and shrill as some exotic bird in the night. She would have fallen to her knees on the wrought-iron platform, if Mark had not caught and held her.

Where to Find Out More:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Totally Bound

All Romance
An All Romance Best Seller!

Goodreads

About Lisabet:

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

Also, Lisabet and I blog together at Oh Get a Grip! The writers there explore a new topic every two weeks, from many different angles. I'm super proud of the writing I do there, and Lisabet is our fearless leader. :)

Five Reasons to Read Sweet Spot by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

I've been really enjoying introducing this blog's readers to other Hot Pink authors, and I'm absolutely delighted to have Lucy Felthouse here today to discuss her contribution to the series!

Thanks so much to Annabeth for having me here today—I’m so excited to have a title in the Hot Pink series along with you!


So, without further ado, here are five reasons to read Sweet Spot:

1. Because Wimbledon starts next week, and what better way to get yourself in the mood for a tennis tournament than reading some tennis sports romance?

2. Because Los Carlos Tennis Academy is packed full of some seriously sexy athletes. First we had Travis Connolly from Grand Slam for those who like men, and now I’m catering for those who love ladies with Virginia Miller and Nadia Gorlando.

3. Shower sex. Who doesn’t love some shower sex? Especially when it’s all steamy and soapy, and features two smokin’ hot women?

4. The intrigue. Yes, this is an erotic romance novella, but I tend to let my books lead me where they want to, and this led me down the thriller path, to an extent. There’s some serious non-romantic action and angst in amongst the lady loving, in this book.

5. The tennis. The Raw Talent series was born when Lily Harlem sent me a chapter which is now the first chapter of Grand Slam, and although I’m no sports expert, I grabbed on with both hands and went along for the ride. Now I’m on my second sports romance and planning more! Watch this space for my next sports romance, which, all being well, will be a femdom novella. Yum.

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

*****

Excerpt:

Nadia Gorlando and I had just gotten off the exercise bikes in the gym when one of the academy’s coaches, Peter Ross, headed over to us, all smiles.

“Hey, Nadia,” he said, his all-American grin widening and his blond hair flopping down over his forehead, “I need a huge favor.”

I flicked my gaze to Nadia. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and waited for him to continue. He did.

“I totally lost track of time just now and I have an appointment with Travis Connolly. Would you mind wiping down my machine for me? Or maybe stick a note on it saying it’s out of order? I don’t want to leave it all sweaty for someone else. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I’ll owe you.”

My jaw almost hit the floor.

Now Nadia rolled her eyes, looked over at the offending machine, then back at Peter. “Sure, I understand,” she said, as cool as ice. “The world’s number one can’t wait. Go right ahead—I’ll fix it for you.”

He babbled a load of thanks, then jogged out of the gym.

I gaped at her. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”

Nadia chuckled. “Of course not. He may be coaching Travis Connolly and Rufus Lampani for the US Open, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to clean up his mess.” She pointed with her chin over to the machine Peter had just vacated. “Come on, V, I’ll show you how I’m going to deal with this.”

I followed her, grinning. Her tone told me that it was going to be something fun. Well, for us, anyway. Probably not for Peter.

Sure enough, when she returned from the room off the side of the gym, she had a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. Deliberately shielding the pad from my view, she wrote something down, then pulled off the top sheet. Folding it, she then propped it on the sweat-slicked seat so the writing was on view to anyone who happened past.

When I’d read and absorbed the words, I turned to Nadia, impressed. Her smile lit up her face, showing dimples in each cheek, and her brown eyes gleamed with amusement.

It was in that moment that I decided I had the serious hots for Nadia Gorlando.

The sign read,

PLEASE EXCUSE THE STATE OF THIS MACHINE. PETER ROSS, TENNIS COACH SUPREMO, “LOST TRACK OF TIME”.

*****

Blurb:

A Raw Talent book.

Virginia Miller is an up-and-coming tennis star. She’s gone from a ratty tennis court in a park in south London, England, to the world’s top training facility—Los Carlos Tennis Academy in California. In awe of the talent around her, Virginia is all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and show that she’s worthy of her place there. Her mentor, Nadia Gorlando, has every faith in her.

But Virginia finds herself distracted—Nadia, as well as being a top-notch tennis player, is seriously sexy, and Virginia’s mind keeps wandering where it shouldn’t. Will her crush get in the way of her career, or can she find a way to push the other woman out of her mind before it’s too late?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sweet-spot/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21521972-sweet-spot

*****

Author Bio:


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

*****

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

New Release: Calendar Men: Mr June – The Other Brother by Lucy Felthouse

I'm pretty excited about this new release from Lucy Felthouse. It sounds like military erotic romance of a type I've discussed before—hot, and also sensitive to the real issues facing those who serve and those who love them. - AL


Photographer Melodie Carr moved to New York City to escape and make a fresh start. Her soldier fiancé was killed in a friendly-fire incident in Iraq, and she has been struggling to come to terms with it ever since. She still feels strongly about needless death and those left behind, so when she sees a call for photographs for a calendar of topless men, with profits going to the Hero Family Fund, she’s eager to help out. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know any men that fit the profile, so she gives up on the idea. That is, until Patrick Brogan—her late fiance’s brother—turns up in New York. Seeing him brings up all kinds of memories, but she’s determined to push them aside and be friends with Patrick. She also realizes he’d be perfect for the calendar. But can she persuade him to take part?

Buy links
Add to Goodreads
Calendar Men freebies

*****

Excerpt:

Melodie Carr reluctantly clicked delete on the e-mail with a disappointed sigh. She couldn’t contribute to the charity calendar for the Hero Family Fund, a cause very close to her heart, because she didn’t know anyone suitable to photograph. Although her photography work varied—from children to pets, landscapes to portraits, she’d done a bit of everything—she got the impression the call for calendar models sought hunky guys to create a collection to make women swoon. Unfortunately, she didn’t work with professional models and therefore had to give up on the idea. A cute dog, something she had plenty of images of, simply wouldn’t cut it.

She might not be able to contribute, but resolved to find out when the calendar would be available and do her bit to help by buying a few copies. Some eye candy on her wall would definitely not go amiss, and her friends Poppy, Lola and Charis, and her grandmother, Joyce, would no doubt appreciate it. She grinned. Joyce, always good fun, said, there’s no such thing as too much eye candy. The saucy old broad.

Her smile faded. She missed her, having not been back to Boston to see her friends and family for a while. She should ask Joyce to come and visit her in New York—she hadn’t traveled much, and would love the hustle and bustle, the endless opportunities to people watch. Maybe Melodie and the rest of the family could buy her a ticket for her birthday. She’d have to give it some thought. It sure would be nice see a familiar face, other than via Skype.

Someone pressed the buzzer to her apartment and she sighed again. It was probably a delivery driver trying to get into the building. It wouldn’t even be a package for her.

Taking her time getting to the intercom, she hoped whoever it was would go away. No such luck—the buzzer squawked again. She inhaled deeply, trying to rein in her annoyance and avoid being rude or abrupt.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” a male voice said. “Are you Melodie? Melodie Carr?”

“I am.” A caller looking for her? Had she ordered something and forgotten about it? “Who’s calling?”

“It’s Patrick,” the voice replied. “Patrick Brogan.”

“Patrick….” Speechless, she laid a hand on the wall to steady herself as the bottom dropped out of her world. Evidently, running to New York—albeit under the pretense of a good career move—hadn’t been enough. Her past still followed her, still tried to flood her with reminders of what she’d lost.

“Melodie?”

Damn, the man’s persistent. She never should have admitted her identity before asking his. She could have told him he’d gotten the wrong place and sent him away.


*****

Author Bio:

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

New Release: Yield To Me

I've got a serious weakness for MMA, and I was extra excited when I saw that this book features a female MMA fighter! Enjoy!



New Release! Sexy fighter romance Yield to Me by Sarah Castille
On sale for $0.99 from June 2-9, and then it will be priced at $2.99.

BLURB
Below the belt, no-holds-barred attraction...

Amateur MMA fighter, Marcy Foster is determined to win the state championship. But dark secrets and a broken trust mean there's one submission she just can’t master. Fortunately Club Excelsior has hired a coach who knows all the right moves.

Sexy, confident and commanding, fight consultant Jax demands control, both in and out of the ring. But once he has Marcy against the ropes, Jax knows he’s in too deep. He has the dominance to give her what she needs, but once he unleashes her hidden passions, there's no going back.

Under Jax's skilled hands, Marcy submits to her deepest desires. But when her personal and professional worlds collide, she is forced to face a brutal truth—yielding to her darkest needs may be the one thing that costs her the fight...and her heart.

BIO

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Sarah Castille, writes contemporary erotic romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha males and the women who tame them. A recovering lawyer and caffeine addict, she worked and traveled abroad before trading in her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home in shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Readers can find her at sarahcastille.com.

EXCERPT

“Mount.” Jax beckoned her forward, his voice curiously husky, and for a moment she wondered if his touching exercise had affected him as much as her.

Marcy crawled up his body and then sat astride his abdomen in Full Mount. God, his stomach was rock hard. Just like the rest of him.

Jax’s body stiffened beneath her. “Christ, Marcy. Are you trying to kill me?”

Puzzled, she shrugged. “I thought you wanted me like this.”

“I do. No. Hell. I mean…to practice the submission, you need to be in High Mount.”

Understanding dawned and she tried and failed to repress a smile. “Am I mounted too low for you, Jax?” She was sorely tempted to give a little wiggle because she could feel something hard pressing into her ass and she was desperate to know if he was wearing a cup. In all her years of training she’d never affected a guy this way and she had to bite back a laugh.

His eyes blazed with liquid heat and his voice dropped to a husky bark, “Move up.”

Marcy eased herself up, her thighs parting wider as she positioned herself high on his chest, her knees under his armpits. “High Mount is easier with female fighters. Your chest is so broad…”

He cut her off with a low growl. When she glanced down to see what she’d done to irritate him this time, she was caught in the blistering heat of his gaze.

“I’m on to you, little fighter.” His eyes glinted, amused. “Don’t think for a minute you’ll distract me from doing what I came here to do.”

A smile curled her lips. All week she’d had to listen to the fighters at the gym talking about the aura of mystique surrounding Jax and his “fighter whisperer” ways. And yet his visible discomfort at her position on top of him made him seem all too human. All too male. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He raised an eyebrow and exhaled through gritted teeth. “How about we try for Mid Guard?” The warmth of his breath caressed her inner thighs and heat flooded her veins. How unprofessional. She’d practiced this position countless times with other fighters in the club. Not once had she ever wanted to tear off their clothes and…

“Actually, probably better if we move to Full Guard.” Jax bucked suddenly, throwing Marcy forward and onto her hands and knees, a standard defense to High Guard, but one that put her breasts within an inch of his lips.

Her nipples tightened and she quickly rolled to her back to hide her body’s response.

Jax moved into position on top of her, taking his weight on his elbows, his legs tucked between hers. So hot. So heavy. So masculine.

Dominant. Controlling.

Arousal coursed through her veins and she tried to think of anything but the erotic weight on top of her.

Coach. Training. Professional. But her body, now a live wire, wasn’t on board.

“How do you want me?” Her breathy voice shaded into a whisper.

CONNECT WITH SARAH:
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BUY LINKS FOR YIELD TO ME
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Three of Hearts

News catchup again. Someday I may manage to get all this stuff posted!

That picture above is for Kristina Wright's anthology, Three of Hearts, which is coming in October. My story is "Whose Anniversary Is It Anyway?"

I've had a few three-way relationships in my life (I said it that way to contrast with threesomes, which in my experience are different beasts). I'll be honest—they were a tricky balancing act. I was young, and I didn't know my way around the landscape. I didn't even know the word polyamory, and I'd never read anything like Tristan Taormino's fantastic book Opening Up (a book I would highly recommend for anyone who wants to consider nonmonogamy in its various permutations). So to write an erotic romance about a relationship involving three people and be honest, I didn't want to create a story that was entirely fantasy. I went for something I knew to have been an issue in my own experience—what happens when the love feels unequal and/or someone is feeling left out. The story's about that discomfort of unevenness, and particularly about the question of which significant dates should be celebrated, and how. Because, in my experience, anniversaries can cause a lot of conflict even for couples. They raise tons of expectations about romance and making a day "special." That issue can get even trickier with more than two people involved. Now, the characters in my story probably have read Opening Up and things like it, and they're a lot more mature than I was the last time this sort of thing came up for me, and they come up with a sexy way to work out their issues—so basically, they're well-equipped to have fun with this.

Three of Hearts
Table of Contents

Foreword Alison Tyler
Introduction: Three’s the Charm
Movie Night by Tiffany Reisz
An Extra Pair of Eyes by Rachel Kramer Bussel
Eve’s Apple Red by Angela Capteron
Experience and Expectations by Kathleen Tudor
The Mistress in the Brat by Skylar Kade
What Happens in Denver by Cheyenne Blue
Old Habits by Mina Murray
Medley of Desire by A.J. Lyle
A Thief in the Night by Giselle Renarde
Drinking Games with Cowboys by Axa Lee
The Last Day of Summer by Veronica Wilde
Full Circle by Jade Melisande
Whose Anniversary Is It Anyway? by Annabeth Leong
Limits of Endurance by Ariel Graham
Uncharted Seas by Chris Komodo
Three for the Road by Kristina Wright

Sex and Romance in a Limited Time

Thirteen years ago, I spent two weeks in Hong Kong, and I've never forgotten the monasteries I visited while I was there. Whenever I've traveled, I've always most enjoyed religious sites, and this is partly because there's a wordless sense of communion in these places. Locals mingle with tourists and tourists from all parts of the world mingle with each other. Some people are there because the guidebooks told them to be, and others because they have sincere religious feeling, but I've never felt that these different purposes take away from the experience.

When I saw the call for Kristina Wright's XOXO: Sweet and Sexy Romance, which asked for very short pieces of erotic romance, I thought of travel right away. In so many fantasies, vacations unite these three elements—limited space and time, eroticism, and romance. As I began to ponder what sort of vacation would do the trick, vivid memories of Hong Kong came to mind.

I was 19 when I visited there, and I remember meeting a man who lived in the same state I did. We had a twenty minute conversation about how exciting it was to be "from the same place," and it struck me as funny. I knew I didn't feel general affection for every fellow resident of my fair state when I was at home. Traveling, however, changes definitions of same and different. The inherent time limit imposed by plane tickets also won't allow would-be lovers to dawdle or build up a slow burn.

I didn't take a new lover in Hong Kong—I had traveled there with my lover at the time, but I've hooked up while on vacation, and I recall the urgency and romance of it. I have always had the knowledge in the back of my mind that I can't afford to be foolish and lose sight of the fast-approaching end. When the vacation is over, I have never wanted to walk away with a broken heart. But my story in XOXO indulges the fantasy that this time it's different.

I didn't think the fantasy was enough on its own, though. I wanted to show why these two people were right for each other—why they needed to stay together beyond the vacation, when they would return to the everyday definition of common ground. I wanted the reader to believe it would be worth the five-hour drives required for them to hold onto what they found in Hong Kong.

First, I showed them traveling to a couple of the places I loved most.



The "Big Buddha" is near the Po Lin Monastery on Lantau island. (The picture here was taken by Mimihitam and posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license). It's a very touristy site, and what I remember most was the long, terrifying bus ride required to get there. My characters meet on this bus, and this is where they first feel a connection—a sense of joy and freedom that might be the vacation, but just might be the result of being together.



Once they've established that connection, they decide to continue traveling together, and they visit the Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery in Sha Tin. (The picture here was taken by CPJoseph and posted under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license). This is the most incredible place I've ever been. As you can see from the picture, the statues go on forever, and as far as I could see each is different. Each has its own lesson and story. I remember climbing the stairs to the monastery already aching at the knowledge that I would forget much of what I was seeing.

As far as the story, I wanted the idea of unified difference to come through for the characters. And this is the location where they have their first kiss.

Soon, Amy, my heroine, knows she is falling for the hero, and begins to struggle with wanting more but knowing how naive it is to believe that this relationship can last beyond the trip. This is where I bring out the erotic aspect of the story. Together, these characters aren't just passionate, they're sweet and playful. Part of what I love about writing erotica is that I believe sex offers some of the best possible opportunities for characterization. It's my hope that seeing the way these two are in bed with each other helps the reader believe in them.

Often, writing involves taking fragments of my experience and remixing them in ways that seem surprising and mysterious when I consider what I've decided to throw together. "When the Vacation Is Over" is a good example of that process. Each part of the story, however, comes from something in my heart that's vivid and cherished. I'm so pleased to have been included in XOXO (this is my first time appearing in an anthology edited by Kristina Wright, and I'm stoked to be part of one of her excellent books).

***

This is part of the Won't You Be Our Valentine? blog tour for XOXO: Sweet and Sexy Romance.

Review: Alison Tyler's Delicious Torment

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Devout

I've signed a new contract with the fabulous Storm Moon Press, this time for a story that will come out in Devout, an anthology they're putting out centered on m/m priest stories. My story, "Never Not a Priest," explores what happens in a diocese grappling with new marriage-equality laws. Fr. Paul Lyman, a gay Anglican priest who has maintained a secret five-year relationship with a local adjunct professor, finds himself prompted by his conscience to give up his shadow existence and bring his lover into his real life in the parish. Many more details to come.

Odd side note: I seem to be developing a personal "religious erotica" subgenre. I've got several stories now where I include sincerely religious characters who are also sexual beings (and, as is my own experience of being a religious and sexual person, they're not very good at abstinence and have various feelings about whether they should try to be). If this interests you, Run for Your Love and One Flesh are out already. "Never Not a Priest" and "The Miracles of Dorothea of Andrine" are on the way.

Heated Leather Lover

This is the cover for my next Ellora's Cave release, Heated Leather Lover, which is due out in early June!

When Tam Bouie rides into town on her motorcycle, she finds the welcoming committee of her dreams, the beautiful femme Yasmin Miller who seems to have been waiting for a leather-clad butch to come and sweep her off her feet.

The two waste no time acting on their passion, but when Yasmin discovers that Tam isn’t just passing through, she panics. Yasmin fears that Tam’s new hometown will prove far too small for comfort if their love affair goes sour. Her resolutions to stay away from Tam won’t mean a thing, however, if she can’t manage to keep them.

Guess What's Out In Time For Christmas?

I didn't expect to see this book out until next year, but now you can pick it up in time to send it to the sweet and sexy loved one of your choice. Edited by Kristina Wright, it's a "candy sampler" or erotic and romantic flash fiction. xoxo: Sweet and Sexy Romance includes my story, "When the Vacation Is Over." Here's a snip:

It started when Amy took Paul's hand while standing in front of the enormous Buddha statue on Hong Kong's Lantau Island. If she had been home, she would never have done something like that. She would have focused on their differences — his dark skin compared with her light, his glasses versus her contacts, and his having traveled there as a sort of pilgrimage rather than, like her, visiting the statue simply because the guidebooks recommended it.

Now, in a foreign country, Amy's definition of common ground had transformed completely. She sat next to Paul on the crowded, careening bus to the Po Lin Monastery because he looked American, and smiled in genuine delight when she discovered they were from "the same place" — though normally she would have said South Florida and Central Florida might as well have been two different countries.

Standing on the steps leading up to the bronze statue's smiling abundance, taking pictures of each other, then angling their cell phones awkwardly to take pictures of themselves together, Amy glanced at Paul and saw in his face the same joy, freedom, and wonder she felt in her heart. She reached for him naturally, before she thought about it.

Out now from Cleis Press!

Guest Post: A.M. Hartnett on Here For A Good Time

I'm very pleased to welcome A.M. Hartnett to my blog today, talking about her latest release, Here For A Good Time. We've been anthology friends several times, and she has an awesome blog (The Bewildered Writer), writes awesome stories, and somehow makes her heroes sound so real that I get jealous that mine don't seem quite that forcefully alive. I asked her to tell us about the scene that defined this work for her, and she's come through with exactly the sort of story that makes me a little envious.

Without further ado, I'll pass the floor to her!

A.M. Hartnett:

When Annabeth suggested I talk about that moment when the story clicked into place for me, I knew exactly the moment of the story that this happened.

Like most of the stuff I've published, Here For A Good Time languished in my to-do pile for years. Every so often I would pull it out and have a look, but I'd just get so frustrated and overwhelmed with trying to make it happen that I'd close it and move on to something else. For the longest time, poor Alexis sat on the balcony of The Deveaux resort hotel, waiting for something to happen.

Then, one day, it happened. Someone joined her on the balcony. This person wasn't special or anything, just one of her co-workers who was going to act as a giant sex toy for the next scene, after which Alexis would go about her business with the bossman. Chris Kendrick, bit player, human dildo.

The next scene was the scene. Goodbye Mr. Kendrick, hello sexytimes with the bossman, but when it came time to put Alexis in the backseat of a hired car with her boss, guess who jumped in with her?

I tried to backtrack. I tried to push him into the background, but he wouldn’t budge. This was his conquest, his woman, his story, and I could either go with it or go write something else.

Excerpt:

‘Allow me.’

Kendrick brushed past her and pulled open the door of the taxi.

She smiled, the picture of politeness, but inside she simmered. The rest of the team had already piled into the other two cars and were headed down The Deveaux’s long driveway. Kendrick had been the last to come down the steps, and so it would just be the two of them on the ride over.

As their car motored towards the main road, she suffered throb after agonising throb at the thought of his tongue snaking around her clit. She squeezed her thighs together and tapped her watch impatiently.

The cab merged with traffic. Kendrick nudged her knee with his. ‘What have you been doing to amuse yourself since I left?’

She loved the naughty tone in his voice and had to bite down on her giggle. Though still insufferable, he had certainly grown on her since that afternoon.

‘Nothing exciting.’

‘Nothing at all?’

Alexis was grateful for the shadows in the back of the car. Her cheeks caught on fire as his question brought a sudden surge of recollection: long fingers stroking her G-spot and a hard cock filling her mouth.

She shook her head and let her hair fall over her eyes. ‘I’ve been a very good girl, Kendrick.’

‘Jesus, I wish you’d stop calling me Kendrick. I have a name.’ He moved closer, arm sliding around her shoulders to pull her closer.

‘I’ve been calling you Kendrick for almost three years now. I’m not likely to break it after – so soon. Besides, you insist on calling me Miss Shea.’

‘I think I’m going to have to come up with some more creative names for you now.’ He nuzzled his face into her hair. ‘After the way you sucked on me, “Lollipop” seems fitting.’

‘Shush.’ She turned and found her mouth sinfully close to his. ‘The driver …’

‘I’m sure he’s heard worse.’ Kendrick’s hot breath skittered across her chest and drew gooseflesh to the surface. ‘You’re the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘I’m glad you approve, but it is pretty tame.’

‘Bullshit. Those are fuck-me shoes if I’ve ever seen them. Makes me want to give you a little something to keep you satisfied until after dinner.’

A smudge of shadow shifted, and then there was his hand on her ribs. She brought her hand up and pressed it against his chest. Sensation sizzled along her arm as her fingertips brushed the curls where his shirt was open at the neck.

That look. Even in the semi-dark, she knew it. The prelude to something. Something soft. Something wet. Something wicked.

Blurb:

When Alexis booked her work retreat at The Deveaux, the most she had to look forward to was a bit of spa time on the company dime, but flashy salesman Chris Kendrick has an even better suggestion. For years they’ve had a hot and cold working relationship with a bit of flirting mixed in, and now is the perfect time to get that spark out of their systems.

Three days hopping in and out of beds (and other convenient places) shows Alexis that Kendrick’s smooth demeanour is more than just talk, and that aromatherapy and soft-tissue massages have nothing on Kendrick’s firm hand.

Links

Web
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Facebook

Amazon

About:

A.M. Hartnett began writing in 2006 and has published more than thirty short stories. Her work has appeared in more than a dozen anthologies, including Cleis Press’s Sudden Sex: 69 Sultry Short Stories (Ed. Alison Tyler), and The Big Book of Orgasm: 69 Sexy Stories (Ed. Rachel Kramer Bussel). She has also written three novellas and a novel as Annemarie Hartnett. For more information on her publications, please visit www.amhartnett.com

***

Yeah, after that excerpt I'm a goner. Why did Amazon invent one-click purchasing?

Best Erotic Romance 2014

Just got word from editor Kristina Wright that my story, "Professional, Knowledgeable and Very Thorough" will be included in Best Erotic Romance 2014! I'm totally thrilled—this is a great series, and I'm so pleased to participate in it.

My story is about an auto mechanic and a hot man who questions her about a timing belt—far more respectfully than she's used to being questioned. Here's a snip:

Randal Dean might not be the kind of sexist jerk she’d been expecting, but he was a piece of work in his own right. “With all due respect, Randal, it took me a long time to learn how a car works. I want to answer your questions and make sure you feel comfortable about how you’re spending your money with us, but at a certain point, you do have to trust my professional opinion. I’ve got a lot of other cars to fix. I can’t give you a long lesson right now.” She sighed, summoning a phrase from her customer service training. “What can I do to help resolve this issue?”

“Can I come back later?” he asked, and something about his tone heated Tamara’s cheeks. “When you’re less busy and you can spend a little time?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Her day was booked solid, and this wouldn’t be quick. To accommodate his request, she’d definitely have to stay late. Still, something inside her hesitated to tell him no.

“Five o’clock,” she said. “Lucy will be closing up. The car will be ready by then, and I’ll walk you through everything I did, show you the parts I replaced, the works. We can just hang out in the garage until you’re satisfied.” She stumbled over the last word of her sentence. It conjured an image of a different sort of satisfaction, sweaty and messy and delicious. Tamara envisioned straddling Randal and running a grease-stained finger across his smooth, high cheekbone, leaving a smear behind. She wondered what it would be like to get him dirty.

Hot times ensue, as I'm sure they do in the other stories in this collection. In case you haven't yet found the preorder button, here's the table of contents, which includes many lovely writers whose work I adore:

Foreword by Lauren Dane
Introduction: A Perfect Combination
The Shortest Day by Nikki Magennis
A Competitive Marriage by Victoria Blisse
Professional, Knowledgeable and Very Thorough by Annabeth Leong
Rules by Emerald
More Light by Laila Blake
Stay with Me by Crystal Jordan
A Singer who Doesn’t Sing by Jeanette Grey
Show Me by D.R. Slaten
A Perfect Place by Catherine Paulssen
Something New by Giselle Renarde
Over a Barrel by Tamsin Flowers
Tuscarora by Anja Vikarma
Big Bully by A.M. Hartnett
Going it Alone by Lucy Felthouse
Closing the Deal by Kelly Maher
Whatever it Takes by Kristina Wright

The book is available for pre-order here, and should be out early next year. :)

Review: Alison Tyler's Dark Secret Love

I wish I'd had Alison Tyler's Dark Secret Love when I was young. This is the sort of fiction that can save a person—wise about the world, unashamed, unafraid of truth, full of voice and strength.

Something like this might have saved me from years of self-imposed sexual denial, the marriage based on pretending not to like the things I like, the visits to the therapist who tried to teach me how to fantasize about something "nice."

Tyler had me from word one of this book—the book starts hard and moves fast. She really captured me, however, when she wrote about the big mistake her main character Samantha makes—"depriving me of any sexual pleasure for three lonely years." That mistake turns out to be getting involved with a man who forces her to be someone she's not, and a lot of Dark Secret Love is about Samantha escaping from that terrible, soul-crushing sort of emotional bondage and finding freedom in the wild, sexy sort of bondage that she craves.

I've read plenty of books about doms and subs, pleasure and pain, but it's so rare and special to find one so raw and powerful. Samantha, the main character, seeks her own pleasure. She's no passive toy. She explores, makes mistakes, gets lucky, and slowly claims her own needs and desires.

I love the way Cleis Press designed the covers for this series, because even the covers of the books say this to me. They're girly and hard-core at the same time. Just looking at the cover of this book (and of the sequel, The Delicious Torment), I can see that what's being written about is a woman's pleasure.

There is a love story, a very important romance, but it takes its time arriving. I liked that. Every time a new man appeared, I wasn't sure how significant he would be or how long he would stay around, and that reflects life. Tyler knows the reader is expecting the happily ever after, and she makes a tease out of the reveal. It's a fun game.

Samantha's journey is also very hot. It's filled with delicious scenes of spanking, bondage, public display, anal sex, and the testing of limits, and all of them ring with authenticity.

When Tyler writes about her main character being caned, she talks about getting six strokes (more eventually, because the count inevitably starts over, but the amount she and her top are talking about her taking is six). I appreciated this because, for anyone who has any idea of how much caning can hurt, six is the sort of number that ought to be getting talked about. As soon as I read "six," I knew this book was written by someone who knows the deal.

I read it in a delicious buzz of arousal. It's the sort of book that screws up plans—plans of starting work on time, of going to bed, or of going anywhere. But I found that what I appreciated most, even more than the heat of it, was having Tyler's strong voice as a companion. It healed me to read about Samantha admitting what she needed. I have so often wondered why I couldn't just have "normal sex," so I was moved when Samantha also wonders why. I felt her relief every time she found a man who understood those needs in any way. I felt her appreciation for those men and her enjoyment of them.

Samantha's insights often seared me or stunned me. Tyler's prose is clean and clear, presenting her character's revelations as nakedly as the character so often presents herself.

I will admit that I sometimes am bored these days by reading about what I think of as basic BDSM—some handcuffs here, a whipping there. Tyler's writing reminded me that when a person lives it, needs it, and does it with connection, there's nothing boring or basic about any of it. It was refreshing to be turned on as hell over things I sometimes now find run of the mill. It made me wonder how it could ever be boring to me. It made me remember what it was like to want it so badly and be afraid to even whisper about what I wanted.

Late in the book, Samantha says, "Good-girl sex, the type I always imagine other people to be having in their dark bedrooms every night, with minty breath and cooing dove talk, that sort of sex isn't meant for me."

I've had similar thoughts, but I don't think I ever put it so boldly to myself. The most important books I've read are the ones that manage to say what I need to say but can't quite articulate. The author says her piece and somehow in the process also gives me a lost piece of myself.

***

I'm honored to be part of the blog tour for Dark Secret Love. You can see all the stops here. Be sure to check out the tour post, because it includes an exciting giveaway!

This is the official blurb:

Keep Your Safe Word Handy
Dark Secret Love is a modern-day Story of O, a 9 1/2 Weeks-style journey fueled by lust, longing and the search for true love. Inspired by her own BDSM exploits and private diaries, Alison Tyler draws on twenty-five years of penning sultry stories to create a scorchingly hot work of fiction, a memoir-inspired novel with reality at its core. A luscious and literary experience of authenticity, Dark Secret Love is a romance for readers who desire sweetness edged with danger and a kinky fairy tale with a happily-ever-after ending. Take a deep breath and prepare to submit. Alison Tyler will push your boundaries to the limits—and have you begging for more.

And Alison Tyler's bio:

ALISON TYLER is a prolific author of erotic fiction and is the editor of Three-Way, Heat Wave, Best Bondage Erotica, Love at First Sting, and Naughty or Nice. She lives in San Francisco and has a well-traveled website at AlisonTyler.com.

Cleis Press's info page about the book is here.