Smutketeers

Today’s guest is Alma Marceau, the author of Lofting. I am especially excited because this book pretty much made me want to write erotica. I read it about ten years ago, and I just remember thinking, “Holy shit.” I thought it was smart, funny, strange and really, really hot. This isn’t a romance novel, and not “for the faint of heart.” I think that’s a funny phrase because it’s something I’ve heard from reviewers about my own writing, and I believe Lofting stands out as one of the most intense erotic reads out there and frankly, I think, makes anything I’ve written seem pretty tame in comparison. I mean, it’s really hard to get off in a zoo around snakes, but Marceau’s character, Claire does. Lofting pushes the rules of sex, power, and BDSM. When I first started writing, I would read Lofting to get all hot and inspired to write sex scenes. I can’t even count how many times I’ve recommended this book to people who wanted to read a story of unconventional, yet real, power exchange.

This books rocks.

Can you tell I’m a fan? My character in Sting of Desire is named Sandine, a play on one of the characters in Lofting, as a kind of homage to the book. So yeah. I had fun with this!

So, here you are. My Very Awesome Interview.

Biography, Alma Marceau

June 1, 1956 Born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, USA
1967-1971 Attended Errico Malatesta Preparatory Academy Salt Lake City, Utah.
1974 Graduated from London Polytechnic College BA, Fiber Arts.
1975-1979 Graduate work in Fungal Systematics Svevo University, Trieste.
1980 Publication of Ph.D. thesis: “On the Genealogy of Morels: The Evolution and Classification of the Ascomycetes, with Special Attention to the Genus Morchella.”
1981-1991 Research Associate, CICMS (Center for the Investigation of Cryptogam Mating Systems), Institute for Fern Relations, Berne.
1992-1998 Extended sabbatical; travel to Paleo- and Neotropics; research begun for “Lofting.”
1999-2001 Writing and publication of “Lofting.”
Currently editing the forthcoming anthology, “High Sticking,” stories and essays on hockey and homoeroticism.

<Feisty: First of all, can you please tell us a bit about yourself. Your biography is fascinating, and I’m really looking forward to hearing more about mushrooms. Well, mushrooms and BDSM and ferns. You have quite the interesting background! Care to expand?

Marceau: Absolutely. The biography is entirely fictional, and like most of my work, I wrote it to please myself, with the hope it might please some readers as well. Nonetheless, there are kernels of truth in it. Like Ms. Marceau, I was involved in textile design for many years, I have a penchant for anarchist theory and animal taxonomy, and I once played a little hockey. I do not, however, possess a Ph.D; nor have I ever lived in Oklahoma, Utah, London, Trieste or Berne. And I have no inclination to write sports related gay erotica–though I have no doubt it is a lively and rewarding subgenre.

Feisty: You’re really funny, a lot funnier than I expected. I pictured some old French lady, sitting on an old velvet chair under a dirty window, hovering over a piece of paper and dropping cigarette ashes onto the page as she recounted her days in the erotic circus. That’s pretty far from the truth. Turns out your a guy in a rock band. So, how did Lofting come to be? I hear there’s an interesting story here. Do tell!

Marceau: I woke up one morning and suddenly realized that one might write a smut novel by removing all the words from the thesaurus that couldn’t in any fashion be construed as filthy. Actually, that’s not how it happened. This is the story: As a curious and horny pre-internet adolescent I always took the opportunity, when babysitting for neighborhood folk, to rifle their bookshelves in search of smut. I got pretty good at sussing out the titles that might yield pornographic gold, but I was invariably disappointed by the paucity of actual sex in these books. You’d have to wade through dozens of pages of blather to get to the dirty bits–and those were often short and lacking the depth of detail I hoped for. So, at a relatively young age I resolved one day to write a novel that would be composed almost entirely of dirty bits. Hence, Lofting. Now, when I started the novel, some decades later, there was obviously a lot more erotica available–and a lot more available to me as an adult. But I found most of it not to my liking. I especially found that the characters weren’t credible, and the eroticism much less intense and perverse than our great Victorian foresmutters. It was also pretty badly written. In one rather acclaimed collection of erotica by women, I came across the following sentence “My brain and cunt exploded.” I guess I thought I could do better.

Feisty: Lofting was first published in the late nineties. I have two questions regarding the time frame in which you wrote it. The book starts off with two characters that meet online in a chat room. Chat rooms are a common form of communication today, but it was much less so during the era you wrote it. Why did you decide to use this scenario to start off the relationship between Claire and Andres?

Marceau: Yeah, I think its hard for today’s youths to imagine how new and extraordinary online chat felt in the early days, when the World Wide Web still lay dormant in the bowels of the Pentagon, and the Internet hadn’t yet been converted over from steam power. But it seemed to me almost immediately that chat rooms provided a great opportunity for a renaissance of smut. The best part for an author was that “chat” — this presumably new mode of communication–in actuality worked like two venerable literary forms combined: dialogue in a play and epistolary exchange. And, if you were like me–an author wannabe who felt much more comfortable writing dialogue than plot–it was the perfect, comfy space in which to develop characters and an erotic interchange between strangers. Even in the earliest days of chat rooms, one saw anger and flame wars erupt, alliances and friendships form–lots more emotion than you might have expected from the supposed “unreality” of the medium. It was as if suddenly the power of words was reasserting itself. It quickly became obvious to me how much potential this had as a mode for literary erotica.

Feisty: Also, it seems to me that when you wrote Lofting, it was during a time when people were making conscience decisions to live a BDSM lifestyle with the accepted strict rules and regulations, and the dom/sub dynamic was going into its prime. Books like SM 101 were published outlining the safe sane and consensual credo. Not only did you eschew these principals, but even show how Andres (who can be labeled as a dominant) actually threatens to cut off interaction with Claire when she sarcastically calls him sir. (By the way, I love how you did that. It showed not only her feistiness, but the fear she expressed through trying to make light of the situation. Well done!) You basically wrote a BDSM book that went against everything people in the lifestyle were living for. Was this a conscious effort or simply the way you wanted to write the story? Also, how did you handle criticism for writing the story in such a way?

Marceau: This is a great question, and a full answer would be too long for this forum.

Feisty: Well I guess you’d better come back then.

Marceau: In any case, it gets into a lot of psychological and sociological stuff that’s beyond my sphere of knowledge, and has little do with erotica itself. Let’s just say that I have observed that, with some exceptions, “lifestyle” BDSM/Power Exchange is essentially not about sex. It’s also extremely conservative, rule bound, and often just plain silly–all of which I was alluding to with Andres’s rejection of the epithet “Sir.” Claire, the heroine of Lofting, is independent, smart, educated, funny and free-thinking. She’ll move in and out of role-playing as it suits her libido, but she would be the first to laugh at the suggestion that her completion as an individual depended on subservience to some “master.” Besides, her aesthetic sense would revolt at the trompe l’oeil stone walls of a suburban dungeon. Of course there’s nothing wrong with all that slave/master stuff, if it floats your boat. But Claire skippers an entirely different sort of vessel. Oh, by the way, my favorite bumper-sticker of all time reads “Safe, Sane and Consensual: Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad!”

Feisty: Now I will be singing Meatloaf (his song, not the baked meat supper) the rest of the day. Anyway, Lofting is incredibly intelligently written. I’ll be honest; when I first read it ten years ago I thought it was over my head. Now I’m a lot smarter (ha ha) so it’s not quite as intimidating. Do you care to expand on your use of language and dialogue in the book?

Marceau: Well, first, thanks for the compliment. You’re quite accomplished in the genre–which also means you know how difficult it is to make it work–and so your approbation is particularly appreciated.

Feisty: (Jumps up and does a fan girl dance in her pajamas while singing the latest Britney Spears pop hit.)

Marceau: I don’t honestly think Lofting is over any moderately smart reader’s head. There are obscure references to all sorts of things: philosophy, history, old movies, politicians, novels and short-lived 60s TV shows. But none of these come in the form of disquisitions or deep musings on life or philosophy: they’re just a natural aspect of the banter of the characters, who share a basic cultural knowledge and a love of word play. Now some readers have called Lofting “pseudo-intellectual” –but that always strikes me as ‘merican for “if I don’t understand what you’re saying, you must be French, or full of shit, or…well, same thing.” It’s yahoo-ism. I mean, if someone wants to read strictly at his own grade level, there’s plenty of stuff out there. I wrote Lofting for the rest of us. As a reader, I love a little challenge, and I have always gotten a kick out of delayed appreciation of certain aspects of a work–the way my understanding has developed in retrospect. For example, when I was a high school stoner kid, I loved to listen to Firesign Theatre records. I probably understood half of what they were talking about, and that was sufficiently entertaining at the time. But as I grew older, I’d begin to catch more of their references. For example, it wasn’t until I was at college years later, that I recognized that the monologue outro of one of their albums, done in a W.C. Fieldseque voice, was actually Molly Bloom’s soliloquy from Joyce’s “Ulysses.” It was a great comic epiphany, and one that made me appreciate Firesign Theatre’s humor even more. And so I hope that someone, someday, upon reading a certain sex scene in Lofting, will recognize that I lifted an entire descriptive passage from Moby Dick…

Feisty: Damn it to hell. I’ve avoided Moby Dick this long and now I have to read the damn thing. Also, that was one of the most amazing answers you could have given. I’ve never really thought of it like that, but it makes so much sense, and explains why a person’s perception of books/lyrics/art can change over time.

Marceau:As for the the linguistic style of Lofting, it’s absolutely intentional. Through the rewriting process, I began to forge a hybrid of the sort of analytical, almost clinical language you’d expect a psychologist like Claire to use, with the elaborated, ornate, violet prose of Victorian pornography. Now, them Victorians, THEY could write some fine smut: first of all, what they were doing was actually transgressive in relation to their culture and its mores. By contrast, we 21st century Americans and Europeans, unless we happen to grow up religiously orthodox, can’t really be transgressive: there’s precious little left to transgress). Secondly, they understood–unlike far too many of their successors–that the purpose of porn was orgasm.

Feisty: What is your opinion on writing literary smut, and has that changed since you first wrote Lofting?

Marceau:As you yourself know, English is a true bitch for the writer of erotica. There are no more than eight words for the sexual organs that don’t sound stupid, hackneyed or laugh out loud funny. Most applicable verb forms have been pounded, hammered, driven, spitted, penetrated, engulfed and slaked to death. Serious, acclaimed literary novelists trip over themselves constantly trying to write sex scenes: it’s a minefield. What then are we lesser mortals, the mere genre writers, to do? I gave it a go with what I thought was a sort of modern version of Victorian grandiosity. Some people seem to have liked it, others less so. Some people got bothered by a sex scene that used the word “extravasated” (don’t ask me: I’ve long since forgotten what it means). At the time I thought it sounded dirty in context. I kinda think it still does. The main thing that’s changed since I wrote my novel is the pervasiveness of the internet. There are so many more venues for erotica writers today, more sub-genres and hybrid genres, and lots of new formats. Flash fiction didn’t exist back then, nor did ebooks, and self publishing was still relatively difficult. All this variety and access is good. Of course, more of anything always means more crap to wade through, but readers fortunately have sites like yours and the Erotic Readers Association to guide them towards the good stuff.

Feisty: Can you explain why you chose the screen names Patroqueeet and Parapraxista?

Marceau: I lived with relatives in Paris for a few months after college. They used to send me downstairs to the boulangerie to pickup a baguette –”mais pas trop cuite” (“not too well-done”). Hence Patroqueet. Parapraxista is from “parapraxis”–the psychoanalytic term for “Freudian slip”–Claire being a shrink and all.

Feisty: Aha! I had Claire figured out, but I never would have guessed Patroqueeet. Now I can die happy.

So, why did you write from a female POV? I have to say I was surprised when I discovered this book was actually written by a man. There is one particular scene in the book where I think a female perspective is really well portrayed. (And I might add I live in a house with two other women and the name of our house is The Pussy Palace, so I hear a lot of woman-speak.)

I hung up the phone. It was a stupid reflex, a childish impulse, but I was insulted and hurt. I hadn’t expected a declaration of love from Andres, merely some emotion, a word or two that reflected the intensity of our sexual moments. Instead, I’d gotten objective analysis and impartial assessment. Fuck him, I thought, as I slammed down the receiver. Fuck him.

Claire immediate bursts into tears of regret. In my opinion, this shows a lot about the female psyche. We are strong, often afraid of love because it makes us vulnerable, so we sabotage things before they get going. Then we often lament our actions because they are childish. It’s a pattern I often witness. I’ve done it myself (as it happens, I was up until 3AM the other night talking one of my friends off the roof because she behaved in a very similar way). Anyway, back to my question. Why did you write a female POV, and how do you think you pulled it off so well? In my opinion, having Nick tell Claire she had a beautiful pussy was a great method. I often write male characters who say such things because I think most women really love to hear it-actually, I think it’s really fucking hot to hear. But it’s something I rarely read in erotic fiction. Why does Nick say this to Claire?

Marceau: The answer to the first question is simple: I wrote from a female POV because it’s a pretty common convention in smut, and because no one had yet done a porn novel with a female, Jewish, feminist, psychologist, majorly wise-ass protagonist. It was a glaringly obvious lacuna at the time, IMHO. I’m still waiting for a call from the Nobel committee…

As for the second part of the question, if I had any success at all portraying a believable Claire, it’s because I made absolutely no attempt to imagine a distinctly female perspective for her. I think that men and women are more alike than they are different. I know this goes against the common wisdom, and a hundred years of Cosmo articles, but I believe it’s true, and it’s what guided me in my writing. Particularly when it comes to sex, people are all over the map in terms of preferences, prejudices and practices–but it’s more individual than gender related.

And to answer your question: Nick told Claire she had a beautiful pussy because he thought she did, and he knew that telling her that would make her wet. Oh, my regards to the Pussy Palace!

Feisty, silently thinking: Marceau just said the words wet and Pussy Palace all in the same line. Ahem. Why did you choose to write under a female pen name, and how did you chose Alma Marceau?

Marceau: Again, convention: Pauline Reage (author of “Story of O), Jean de Berg (author of “The Image”). Alma Marceau is the name of a metro stop in Paris. I believe it translates to “The Soul of the Mime.”

Feisty: Do you care to explain any similarities between yourself and Andres or Nick?

Marceau: We’re all terrific, married guys!

Feisty: You often play with language in this book. All the characters sprinkle non-English phrases and words into their speech, while at the same time Claire and Andres actually make fun of doing so as being pompous. Why do your characters do this, and do you speak more than one language?

Marceau:They do it because it’s fun. Add a couple of languages and you can pun in 3D. I speak French badly, Spanish passably and English with varying degrees of proficiency.

Feisty: Is Nick’s loft based on an actual space, or is it something that came strictly from imagination? For some reason, it seemed incongruous to his character, so I’d love to hear more about this space full of art and chaos.

Marceau: It’s totally imagined. I’ve never even been to New York. Honestly, descriptions of space and architecture are really difficult for me. I was happy to achieve adequacy.

Feisty: Me too! Eden is wonderful at describing setting, and I find it really hard. On to my next question. Woodblock artists are rare. Why did you choose this as Nick’s medium?

Marceau: Rare to non-existent. I was a commercial artist at the time, working in a shrinking field that needed my skill set less and less. I imagined woodblock artists felt the same as they watched their metier become obsolete. Also, I think Nick was in reality a drug-dealer. That may in part explain the nature of his digs.

Feisty: What’s your favorite scene in the book?

Marceau: They are my children: I love them all equally. Seriously: it took me over three years to write Lofting. I wrote it, hated it, and then re-wrote it entirely four times until I finally liked it. Then I couldn’t find an agent or a publisher for it, so I published it myself. The book was at something like #35 on Amazon at one time (seriously, I did a screenshot..I can prove it), but no American publisher showed the slightest interest. Finally, years later, a Japanese agent approached me and I got a Japanese translation deal with a major Tokyo house. Hooray for official validation! So, yeah, it was a tough labor, and daddy loves his baby–every little toe.

Feisty: What do you think is the hottest scene? Personally, I love the way each scene builds and builds, and I would be hard-pressed to choose one, although what really turned me on in the book was watching Claire continually give up power. The gang-bang was hot, too. :)

Marceau: What I said before, about the Victorians recognizing that porn was about orgasms, relates to this. It seems to me that every sex act (or at least every successful one) is actually a story. It has a beginning, a middle and an end. A lot of erotica seems to ignore this: instead it seems to me mostly intended to set a mood–to titillate or arouse, but not really to satisfy. I would include “Story of O” in this group: it’s evocative and suggestive, but there are precious few scenes of ecstatic pleasure and it’s really too cold for my taste. (I also don’t find “O’ particularly compelling.) The Victorians, on the other hand, wrote sex scenes that build from provocation to provocation, to (often extended) frustration and finally release. Their stories mimic the trajectory and arc of an idealized sexual encounter: one that takes time to develop and only brings sexual relief to the subject after a prolonged, almost (or actually!) painful delay. They’re stroke books for adults. I would like to think that Lofting is part of that tradition.

Feisty: Tell us about some of your favorite reviews, especially the editorial reviews on Amazon.

Marceau:Like most authors, I am vain, self-obsessed and hair-trigger defensive.

Feisty: I’m not like that AT ALL. So fuck off while I go brush my hair.

Marceau: So I read every new Amazon customer review with combination of dread and hopeful anticipation. Fortunately, the majority have been very kind, and the quibbles were mild. A few people were disappointed, which I am sorry about, but it’s to be expected. The editorial reviews were either my creations or legitimate positive reviews culled from the dozen or more I got online. Among authors, Susie Bright, M. J. Rose and Heather Corinna had great things to say, and that was a fantastic boost, especially at a time when my confidence was at such a low point. But one of my favorite reviews of all is actually an almost entirely negative one that erotic author Lisabet Sarai did over at Erotica Revealed. I won’t dwell on it at length, but one line is worth quoting. About Lofting, she says: “Some of the bondage scenes struck me as distinctly unsafe.” I still pee in my pants a little every time I read this!

Feisty: What do you think readers want when they pick up an erotic fiction novel?

Marceau: I think there are a lot of different readers with a lot of different expectations and preferences. That’s why I encourage anyone with an idea for an erotic story or novel to pursue it. Find your own distinct voice and you’ll probably find an audience for it. But my advice is not to fake it: it’s important in erotica to write what turns you on, not what you think will turn someone else on. Be true to your school. Also, use spellcheck and then copy edit the crap out of your MS.

Feisty: Can readers expect another novel from you? If so, what are you working on?

Marceau: Not in this lifetime. I’ve moved on to being in a rock band. Writing a three and a half minute song is way less grueling than writing a novel. And you look cooler on stage with a guitar than with a pen. Thanks to you and Eden for the opportunity to chat a bit!

Feisty: Thank you so very much for being here today!

Marceau:No, thank you! This has been a great opportunity. Please thank Eden for me as well. BTW, I no longer have a website, but Lofting is available on Amazon as well as at JT’s Stockroom online.

Feisty: I love you. Wait, did I say that out loud?

Eden/Eve: Today we have the fabulous Karin Tabke with us to share a peek at her latest, BAD TO THE BONE! The author of hot romances, Karin writes as both Karin Tabke and Karin Harlow. But no matter which name she’s going by, she always creates one sexy hero after another, men to make you swoon, to sweep you off your feet, men who make you want to get naked, down and…yearning for some good, clean fun. Or some good, dirty fun. *G* Let’s all give her a big Smutketeer welcome!
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Smuttalk!

All for smut and smut for all! Love it! And, thank you, ladies for inviting me for a little bit of smut talk today!

So, I have a confession to make: in the past when folks would say to me, “Oh, you write those smutty books,” I took exception. Hey, my books aren’t smutty! They are mad passionate love stories!!! But I got over it. One person’s smut is another person’s mad passionate love story.

But after a while, I realized they weren’t really talking about the sex per se, what these folks were really saying was, “You write irrelevant books a kindergartener could write.”
Because we all know books with sex in them minimizes the characters, story and the message. And thank God 6 year-olds these days are so talented. I mean, let’s leave the irrelevant books to them so we grown ups can write boring relevant books.

Well, guess what you smut snobs? I like writing knock-down-drag-out smutty sex! There, I said it. I love it! It’s why I wrote BAD TO THE BONE. It’s sex, sex and more smutty sex. 13,000 words of sex! Well, not all 13,000 but a lot. And guess what else it is? A love story! Hah! Take that you smuthaters.

Oh, and guess what else I wrote? Smutty Lycan sex! Yep, BLOOD LAW, baby. Book one in my Blood Moon Rising trilogy. It’s loaded with hot, sweaty, primal sex. Everywhere! And guess what else? It’s a love story. It’s character driven with lot’s of great action. Angst. Betrayal, and all of those other fabulous emotions that will grab you from page one and not let go until The End. And boy, oh, boy is The End going to make your scream! It made me scream when I wrote it! I’ve never done that before. But it will make you run out and pick up BLOOD RITE, book two in the Blood Moon Rising trilogy. Yeah, baby. And if you think BLOOD LAW was toe curling, BLOOD RITE goes places I have never gone before.

On the flip side, I write medieval historicals. Passionate love stories to be sure, but more story. I write paranormal suspense as Karin Harlow. Passionate love stories again but set against high-octane action and suspense. Larger cast, larger plot, and large than life characters.

But at the core, every one of my stories has two things in common: Passionate characters and passionate love stories. None of which, I can assure you, a kindergartener wrote. Not even close.

CONTEST!
So? Since you’re here at Smutketeers reading this, I’m going to assume you like sexy, passionate, love stories: tell me why. If you do, I’ll throw your name in the hat for a drawing for a copy of my backlist!

Karin* aka Harlow!

Bad to the Bone
Wicked Reads Book 1
Police officer Vaden Holbrook and widow Olivia Connor’s chemistry is off-the-charts hot, but incredible sex isn’t enough for Olivia. She wants it all. Will Vaden’s inability to commit push her into the arms of another man? Or can he overcome his past to become the man Olivia needs, the man he’d like to be?
Excerpt
Her mind wasn’t on the road. Or her driving. As usual, it was a million miles away, so when she took the wrong turn, it didn’t register. She followed the road a few miles before she carelessly ran a red light. A faint, Oh shit, I hope there wasn’t a cop hiding behind a bush, flashed through her mind. She made a quick left just in case, then gave her SUV some gas down the old country road.
It was late and it was dark. Hers was the only car on the rutted asphalt road. Her headlights blazed the way until she dunked into a pothole, the depth causing her to bounce and hit her head on the roof. As if to let the pothole know how she felt about that, she glanced angrily in her review mirror. That’s when she saw the headlights of another vehicle rapidly closing in on her.
She bit her bottom lip. Her nerves flared and her belly buzzed. When red and blue lights lit up behind her, her apprehension spiked.
The cop car pulled right up on her, lights blazing. She knew what to do. She looked right, making sure the shoulder was wide enough and not littered with the gaping holes left by the recent rain. She slowed, pulled over and came to a stop, then let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
In her side mirror, she watched the cop get out of his car and say something into his mic before he started toward her window; his tall broad form was silhouetted ominously against his headlights. As the strobes flickered over him, she could tell by his strut he was cocky. But then, most cops were. Nervously, she sat back, folded her hands in her lap and waited.
Anxiously, she bit her bottom lip and hit the window button just long enough for the window to come down a crack.
He stopped at the side of her car. All she could see was his duty belt and his narrow waist that flared into a wide chest. He tapped on the glass with the end of his flashlight.
“Open the window, ma’am,” he commanded.
Despite the nervous flutter in her belly, her immediate reaction to authority was to open the window more. Even if it weren’t, she’d open wider.
Tension sizzled along her nerve endings when he ducked down and they met face to face. Her instinct was to shy away from the dark green eyes shining brightly in the night. Instead, she swallowed hard as her gaze dropped to full firm lips before bouncing back up to the blistering gaze.
He wasn’t classically handsome. He had one of those etched character-filled faces. His angles were blunt, nothing refined about him, but they complemented his olive coloring and close-cropped jet-black hair. There was nothing soft or apologetic about this man. It was his eyes and those bad boy lips that transformed him from average to sinful.
Her nipples beaded when his gaze dropped below her chin. Her chest rose and fell in shallow puffs. Her shirt was classic Anne Klein office wear. Although her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and the buttons didn’t quite make it to her neck, the way she was sitting made the shirt gape open, exposing her cleavage supported by a lacy demi-bra.
He looked back up at her face. Heat flickered behind his hooded lids. An insolent half smile quirked the right side of his mouth before he backed up. She huffed, sinking deeper into the leather seat. It wasn’t like she had intentionally given him a peek. She wasn’t like that. She bet half the women he pulled over took one look at him and did more than show a little skin. He was all smoldering sexy. His subtle snub pissed her off.
A woman scorned, regardless of the circumstances, was nothing to mess with. Frustrated by his assumption, she stiffened and stuck her head out of the window. “Why did you stop me?” she demanded.
He cocked a dark brow at her tone. “You ran the light back there. License and registration, please.” He held out a big hand. Thick fingers with smooth blunted ends, neat square fingernails. A working man’s hand. A single working man’s. No wedding ring.
His other hand rested casually on the butt of his gun.
“What are you going to do? Shoot me if I don’t do what you say?”
His lips quirked. “I’ll use whatever force is necessary.”
Shivers hopped along her spine. She wasn’t sure if she were afraid or intrigued. Either way, she didn’t resist. She took her driver’s license out of her wallet and slapped it into his waiting hand. His big fingers wrapped around hers before she could pull away. His touch was electric. A shock wave went straight to her nipples and banked south to the juncture at her thighs. She tried hard to remain impassive. She tugged her hand out of his grasp, then dug into the glove box for the registration. This time, caution prevailed; she sat back and handed it to him, keeping all but her fingertips inside the car.
He took it and looked at her license. “I’ll be right back, Ms. Olivia Connor. Don’t go anywhere.” There was a hint of amusement lacing his deep baritone.
Did he just laugh at her as he walked away? She stuck her head out the window, to tell him to go to hell, but he had already reached his cruiser. She sat back, her temper flaring. “Damn cops think they’re God’s gift.”
In her rearview mirror, she watched him watch her through his front windshield as he called in her info. After what seemed interminably long, he strode back to her door. He reached inside the car, released the door lock, quickly pulling the door open before she realized what he was doing.
“Step out of the car, ma’am,” he said thickly.
“Why? You can’t arrest me for blowing a red light!”
“Step out of the car, ma’am.”
Her pride screamed “no.” Her reason told her to just do as he said so she didn’t invite any more trouble than she already had. Ultimately, Olivia was good at following instructions.
She stuck her left foot out of the car, her four-inch heel digging into the soil of the shoulder. When she stood, she nearly snapped her ankle. The bad cop reached out to steady her. His long fingers wrapped possessively around her bicep. Her skin flared beneath his chaste touch. When her second heel stuck in the ground, she jerked away from him and had he not grabbed her with both hands, she would have tumbled backwards into the mud. The velocity of his actions brought her chest to chest with him.
The contact was electrifying.
***
Available now from Amazon or on Smashwords!
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Eden/Eve: And in case that wasn’t a tempting enough tidbit, Karin has been kind enough to share a look at BLOOD LAW, the first book in her Blood Moon Trilogy, out May 3rd from Berkley Heat!

For all eternity, only one thing shall separate them—until the Blood Law is avenged…

The coming of the Blood Moon will lead two Lycan packs into war, spur two rival brothers into conflict, and spark an act of vengeance so evil that its effects will be felt for generations.

One woman stands at the center of it all…

As undisputed Alpha, Rafael must choose a life mate to preserve the dominance of his Lycan pack. He never suspected, his mate would be a human, the same wounded, girl-woman he seduces from the brink of death. Falon is a dangerous combination of Lycan and Slayer—beings bred to destroy his kind. Even more, she’s a mesmerizing beauty whose sensuality tempts the seasoned warrior to take unnecessary risks. The primal heat between them is irresistible, yet surrendering to it could destroy them both…for a vengeful foe stands ready in the shadows to fulfill what is rightfully his by Blood Law.
***
Available for pre-order now on Amazon, B&N, Border’s and other online outlets!

Eden/Eve: A hot cop and a hot shifter-nice! I’m certain our Smutkedettes can find plenty to love! And there’s even more on her website, so be sure to stop by to find more info about Karin’s books!
***
Be sure to check back with us-we have more fun and fab guest authors coming up, plus a special week-long Valentine’s Day celebration, which you know means tons of prizes and all sorts of smutty goodness!
All For Smut, and Smut For All!

The Winner is…

Cecile!!

Cecile, email me at r.g.alexander@hotmail.com and I will make sure your prize is sent to you

Congratulations! And keep your eyes open, we have much more to come!

RG: Today the Smutketeers have another amazing guest. She is a bestselling author of several hot paranormal series at Samhain—and she’s a fantastically funny and smutty friend.  Now its time for all our Smutkedettes to welcome Dana Marie Bell!!

Dana, thank you so much for being here today.  I want to dive right in. You have a new book in your Gray Court series coming out tomorrow, a ménage called Noble Blood. We’re very excited about it, because we know how talented you are, but we have a question….A vampire, a Sidhe and a Leprechaun…now I know you have recently made one of the hottest heroes around out of a Bear shifter named Bunny (so you can do anything). But how did you make a sexy leprechaun?

Dana: It’s the tights. Green. Tight. Nummy.  I can picture Sean Dunne, the father of the heroine, in them. Black haired, blue-eyed, totally sinful Sean. Sigh. Nom nom nom…

Actually, the leprechaun is Moira, the heroine (who would be totally skeeved to find out I’m perving on her Da).  I’m going to write a male leprechaun at some point, but I have to get Shane and Robin and Oberon done first.

Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. Leprechauns can rock your world. Literally. But I promise not to put him in tights (where you’ll see him).

RG: Sounds sexy to me! You’ve been writing since you were thirteen, have you always been drawn to romance? The paranormal?

Dana: I wanted to be Isaac Asimov when I was thirteen. My parents are still wondering what the hell happened. But I’ve been attracted to myths and legends forever. I devoured Tolkien and Ray Bradbury and Andre Norton. Then the librarian near my house introduced me to Harlequin Silhouette books when I was fifteen, and I became hooked on the HEA. Add in my parents’ love of dressing up as the Wolfman and Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween every year and you’ve got the makings of a paranormal romance author.

P.S. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get spirit gum out of a beard? My father still has flashbacks.

RG: I can imagine. Everyone always asks me this, but you create such interesting worlds I’d like to know. Do you plot? Pants? Receive strange space messages from alien shifters?

Dana: Believe it or not, yes. I plot. I pants. And I dream (I got a totally cool idea in a dream for a girl in a coma who falls in love with a werewolf firefighter… but I digress). I do whatever works. I plot a book out from beginning to end, set fingers to keyboard and hold on for dear life as the characters take over and try to drive me insane.

I forgive them, but only if they give me chocolate.

RG: Mmmm chocolate. Okay I can’t wait. Can we have a blurb and excerpt from Noble Blood right now?

Dana: Sure!

Noble Blood

The Gray Court Book 2

Nobility has its privileges…and its price. Sometimes it just sucks.

For Lord Duncan Malmayne, it was love at first sight with his true bond, the lovely half Sidhe, half-leprechaun Moira Dunne. Yet something is missing from his relationship with the fiery redhead, something that prevents him from completing the Claiming and making Moira his forever.

As problems multiply in what should be a magical, idyllic time, the depression weighing on Moira’s Sidhe heart signals a potentially devastating condition. Mate sickness. Her instinct tells her what’s missing: Jaden Blackthorn, Gray Court vampire, Duncan’s bond brother and closest friend—who tactfully withdrew from their lives after Duncan declared his love.

Jaden is both heartbroken and elated that the two people he loves most in the world are together. It’s best he cut off all contact to give them space to complete the Claiming. But trouble is brewing in the Malmayne clan, and when Jaden’s forced

back into their lives by the Hob, their extremely rare tribond clicks with a reaction that’s swift, sensual and all-consuming.

But not everyone looks upon it as a blessing. In fact, the price of their love could be a potentially fatal shift of power…

Warning: This book contains explicit sex, graphic language, and M/M/F love scenes between a Sidhe lord, a vampire and a leprechaun. And no, that’s not the start of a dirty joke no matter what my Beta readers said.

Moira wanted to kick Jaden and Duncan’s collective butts. How could they have danced around each other for so long? The heat between the two of them was burning her up! But the worry and fear in Jaden was reaching critical mass. She needed to diffuse it fast. “Duncan is suffering from mate sickness.”

Jaden turned on her so fast her head spun. He was quick, but she’d forgotten exactly how quick. “Why? Why won’t you complete the mating?” He stalked towards her, black bleeding out to the whites of his eyes. “C’mon, sweet. You can tell me.”

She shivered, the deep purr in his voice calling to her, a siren’s song she longed to answer. Where she found the strength to keep from responding to his vampiric lure she didn’t know. She took a deep breath, drawing in his coppery scent. “We couldn’t. Neither one of us could work ourselves up to it.”

Red flames danced in his eyes. “Why is that, Moira?” He stroked his finger down her cheek. “I can tell you that if I had you waiting in my bed there’s no way I’d hold off on making you mine.”

She smiled. He was trying to intimidate her. She shook her head, amused. You’d think he’d know better than that. She had to make him understand why they hadn’t been able to recite the Vow and complete the Binding. “How can you bond to your heart when your soul is missing?” He frowned, confused. Did he even understand what a true bond really meant? “Do you know what each step of the bond entails?”

He huffed out an irritated breath. “There’s the Claiming, which begins with a kiss and ends with a fuck.” She winced. He was being deliberately crude. “Then there’s the Vow and the Binding. The Sidhe recites the Vow, magic swirls, and the Binding takes place. Voila, you are married for eternity, life forces bound together.” He tilted his head to the side. “I hear Leo’s Binding with Ruby was quite the light show.” He smiled, the expression full of evil pleasure. “Kaitlynn was so pissed.”

She nodded. She’d been there. She’d known that if anyone had laid a hand on Ruby at that moment, Leo’s power would have destroyed them. It was never a good idea to get between a Sidhe lord and something he wanted. “It was. Do you know what was missing from my Claiming with Duncan?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” For the first time since Duncan left the room Jaden looked truly worried again.

She reached up and stroked his cheek, pleased beyond belief when he nuzzled into her touch. “You, Jaden. You’re the other third of our bond.”

He started to laugh. “Oh, that’s a good one. Try and sell me a bridge. C’mon. You know you want to.”

She kicked him in the shins.

He leaned down and clutched his leg. “Ow!” The surprise in his face would have been amusing if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“I’m not joking. You left, and Duncan and I both went into mate sickness. We were pining for you and didn’t even know it.” She figured the only reason she hadn’t been even more sick was her leprechaun blood. It must have shielded her. Duncan had taken the full brunt of it, the mark of his anguish left on his body for all to see.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “So how come after all this time I’m not bound to him? I’d think in the hundred years we’ve been together he would have popped wood over me at some point.”

Oh, he was going to be a pain in the ass about this. “My mother thinks—”

“You talked to your mother about Duncan’s erectile dysfunction?” He glared down at her. “Has he considered taking your TV away?”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose with a weary sigh. “Jaden.”

“Hey, it’s not like we were together for a hundred years or anything.” He tapped his fingernail against his teeth and sucked in a breath. “No, wait.”

“If you don’t knock it off I’m going to kick your ass so hard you’ll fart everything you say.”

He barked out a startled laugh. “God, I love vicious women.”

She smirked up at him. “Listen. We think the reason Duncan didn’t feel the pull toward you was because of your blood bond. We think it masked the need to Claim you. When you went away and cut off all contact the mating sickness set in.”

Jaden was shaking his head. “Duncan isn’t gay.”

“No, he’s not.” Jaden’s expression turned cynical. “He’s bi, just like you.”

Jaden frowned. “Honey, Duncan has never shown an interest in men. Believe me, I would have known.”

“Of course not. He had you.”

Jaden’s eyes rolled, which looked really weird. They were still vampiric, black with red hot flames in the center. “If Duncan was ever into men then he’s been so far in the closet he’s been living in Narnia.” Jaden turned his back on her. “Are you sure some other funky Sidhe sickness isn’t holding him back?”

“I’m positive.” She put her hand on the small of his back, smiling when he jumped. “He finally Claimed me today.”

“Good for you.”

God, the pain underlying that cheerful façade would drop a stronger man to his knees. She could feel it roiling within him. “Jaden, he couldn’t Claim me until you were here. Frankly, I think it was what you were doing in the shower that tipped him over the edge.”

His face turned bright red, his eyes leeching back to normal in shock. “Oh God.”

“Jaden, it’s all right.”

“No it’s not. He’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

He shot her a disbelieving look. “I saw you naked. I rode, uninvited, in his head while he…” He gestured towards her body. “On the desk, no less!”

She laughed. Her sexy vamp sounded so prissy! “Are you kidding me? He was thrilled!”

His jaw dropped. “I have to get out of here.”

“Oh, no you don’t.”

His hand curled around her throat, but she wasn’t afraid. She could never be afraid of him. “Sweetheart, how are you planning on stopping me?”

”Like this.” She got up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

RG:  That was awesome! :) I’m sure all the Smutkedettes would like to know about your other series at Samhain, as well as what you have coming up in the year ahead. (we’re book addicts over here)

Dana: You had to go there, lol! I have two (no, three!) other series besides the Gray Court with Samhain, and a brand new one starting with Carina Press late this spring, possibly summer. One of those series, the Halle Pumas, is the precursor to Bunny, the Bear shifter! So I have two pure shifter series, one very odd god series (based on the Norse gods and the premise that Odin, not Loki, was the bad guy), my fae series and soon my paranormal town with Carina Press.

Oh, I almost forgot! I just got a contract for my very first M/M book, Finding Forgiveness, which starts ANOTHER series (I’m an addict, I know) called the Poconos Pack. So yeah, that makes… (counts on fingers…) yup, three shifter series, all set in the same world.

I’m not doing a whole lot of M/M, but I found it an interesting change to do Ben and Dave. I’m finishing up my second one (for the True Destiny series) then I’m back to either ménage or straight M/F for quite a while.

My books so far, in reading order:

With Samhain Publishing

Halle Pumas

The Wallflower

Sweet Dreams

Cat of a Different Color

Steel Beauty

Only In My Dreams

Halle Shifters

Bear Necessities

True Destiny

Very Much Alive

Eye of the Beholder

The Gray Court

Dare to Believe

Noble Blood

And coming soon:

Poconos Pack

Finding Forgiveness (M/M)

Comin soon with Carina Press:

Maggie’s Grove

Blood of the Maple

I’m starting the second Halle Shifter book once I’m done the third True Destiny. Julian and Cyn are already butting in on Jeff and Fenris, and Fen is starting to get all kinds of snarly. And, insane person that I am, I’m hoping to do a space cowboy story. Or maybe I should I say space cowGIRL.

You can find my booklist here: http://www.danamariebell.com/eBooks.html and my coming soon books here: http://www.danamariebell.com/ComingSoon.html

RG: You sound even busier than we are. Now on to the juicy questions:

Wolf or Cat shifter? Cat. Duh.

Boxers, briefs or commando? Not commando. Not a huge fan of zipper rips, thank you. I like my man’s bits in working order, and honestly? An extra minute in the clothing removal department saves embarrassing trips to the emergency room and mocking the likes of which you’ve never experienced before.

Oh yeah. Briefs.

To spank or to be spanked? I’m not tellin’! Neener neener neener!

Lobster or steak? Steak. I am a devoted carnivore. Especially if it’s got Heinz 57 on it.

Future or past? Future. I want to be the first romance writer living in a space station.

Ocean or mountains? Ocean! Except at jellyfish season. That sucks rocks.

m/f/m or f/m/f? *wink* M/F/M, definitely. I want to be the meat, not the bread.

Bare feet or OMG there’s a shoe sale!? Um. Yes.

RG: Now I do believe that Dana has a contest for our Smutkedettes. She’ll pick a winner on the 19^th.

Dana’s Contest: I’m giving away a free .pdf of Noble Blood! Just list here whether you’d rather be with a Sidhe, a Vampire or a Leprechaun, and I’ll add your name into the hat!

RG: Thank you so much for coming to see us! Can’t wait to read Noble Blood!

Dana: Thanks for having me, Smutketeers!

Eden/Eve: We have with us today the fabulous Lucy Felthouse, author and creator of the eroticforall website! Lucy’s from the UK, so I like to imagine her reading her smut in a lovely English accent…or perhaps that’s just me…? After all, she has taken part in some of the sexiest erotic anthologies ever…Chocolate Lover (yum!), I Kissed A Girl: A Virgin Lesbian Anthology (do any of you doubt after reading the blurb for my Spice book, THE LOVERS, that I’d adore this one?), Fang Bangers: An Erotic Anthology of Fangs, Claws, Sex and Love ( (for all of us vampire & werewolf lovers out there), and so many more!

Today Lucy is here to share a peek at her latest, UNIFORM BEHAVIOUR: Steamy Stories About Men & Women in Uniform. Let’s take a look at what Lucy has to say…

Do you get all weak-kneed at the sight of a grubby fireman or a hunky soldier? Perhaps immaculately-dressed waiting-on staff get you feeling frisky? If so, you’ve come to the right place.

Uniform Behaviour contains sixteen smutty stories about firemen, soldiers, sailors, police, security guards and even waiters, priests and cleaners!

Delve into this anthology and enjoy steamy stories from established erotica authors including Justine Elyot, Craig J Sorensen, Victoria Blisse, Shermaine Williams, Elizabeth Coldwell and Lucy Felthouse. Uniform Behaviour also proudly introduces some exciting debut authors. So remember, you saw them here first!

As well as being written and compiled for your titillation, this anthology is also designed to do good. A portion of the proceeds from Uniform Behaviour will be donated to UK charity Help for Heroes, which helps those wounded in current conflict.

The stories in this anthology have been hand-picked by a uniform aficionado, so you can rest assured that only the sexiest erotic fiction lies in this eBook.

TEASING LITTLE EXCERPT:
No, I shook the thoughts from my head, all too clichéd, all too seedy.

“Jesus!” I yelled as his free hand pinched down on my nipple, squeezing it firmly, exquisite pain coursing its way through my veins. I continued to clench around his fingers, another surge of arousal slipping from my core, heated juices spilling from my engorged and swollen cunt, coating his hands with my slick. I yelped in surprise as he forced his fingers into my mouth to taste the musky sweetness of my snatch.

“See how fucking good you taste?” he rasped against my ear, his words sending another surge of arousal whizzing around my body. All I could do was nod, words stuck in my throat as I succumbed to the feelings this fireman was invoking within me.

I have to admit, I did taste good, never having sampled the delights of pussy before now. Without warning there I was on bended knee, the image of myself drinking from another woman’s cup, lapping at her centre with long, luscious strokes whilst she writhed beneath my tongue.

I was brought back to the present by sharp pain in my breast as Bryan twisted a swollen teat, relishing in the pleasurable pain that spilled from my throat. He shifted closer to me in the darkness, pressing his thick erection against my pussy and grinding gently. With his cock still snugly tucked inside his trousers I had only the scratchy material of his uniform to contend with. My core ached for affection and I ground against him as hard as I could, rubbing myself against him like a wild feline in the throes of heat.
* * *
You can buy UNIFORM BEHAVIOUR NOW!
Amazon* Amazon UK* ARe
CONTEST!
Lucy will give away to one lucky winner a PDF copy of UNIFORM BEHAVIOUR! And she’s making it easy to enter-all you have to do is comment here, letting her know what your favorite uniform is. That’s it! The winner will be announced right here at Smutketeers in the comments section tomorrow night, the 14th, so be sure to check back! Of course, feel free to add any other comments or questions for her. And you must visit her website to read all about her other books!

I want to thank everyone for the wonderful response to my birthday post! Smutkedettes are amazing :)

The winners are

Loretta (from post 33)

and

Milinda (post 27)

email me at r.g.alexander@hotmail.com for your pick of any ebook from my backlist or a $20 Amazon gift card. Congratulations!!

Eden/Eve: Today we have with us the fabulous Lacy Danes-she’s gorgeous, talented, and sweet, and the author of some of the hottest smut around! She’s celebrating the release of her Samhain book, HOUSE OF SIN, out today from Samhain! The cover is gorgeous, don’t you think? Let’s all give her a big Smutketeer welcome-cocktails and spankings for everyone!

Lacy Danes: I am so delighted to be here at the Smutketeers today!

Eden sent me these fun questions to answer and I thought what a great way to start off my post and let you all get to know a bit about me. Who is Lacy Danes?

Beer or girly drink with an umbrella? Beer… though my favorite is a great vodka martini with marinated sweet peppers instead of olives.

Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate! What is vanilla??

Red corvette or dashing steed? Red Corvette.

Exciting evening out at the best restaurant followed by the newest nightclub or romantic evening in with a glass of wine by the fire? Wow that is hard-I LOVE both but if I have to choose, romantic evening in with a glass of wine by the fire.

Boxers, briefs or commando? I love those tight boxer/brief combo undies on a guy!

Vacation on a tropical beach or wintry mountain cabin? Tropical beach.
(Eden interrupts to say me, too!)

Rock concert or symphony? Again I love both but more often I do the rock concert.

Hugs or Kisses? Oh! There is nothing more intimate, insightful and delicious than a kiss.

Rope or Chains? ROPE!!!! Oh My!!! ROPE! :-D
(Eden interrupting again to say that I already knew this about you, but it’s always fun to see you melt at the mere mention of rope…*G*)

Steak or sushi? Love both, but Sushi does top steak.

New shoes or new jewelry? I love to buy new shoes myself. And receive new jewelry. ;-)

Spanker or spankee? Spankee.

~~

2011 has started out so fabulously and what better way to celebrate than with friends and a new book release. House of Sin is one of my favorite stories I have written. I have read a lot of classic Victorian erotica but I had never written a story set in the Victorian period. This was my first attempt at the period and I really enjoyed it!
Here is the blurb about the story and you can read part of the first chapter HERE.

Her most important duty—serve the master’s pleasure.

Emily’s dreams are simple: a life of dedicated service at a respectable estate, and a strong marriage filled with love and devotion for one man. Portage Place, the manor where her parents apprenticed, seems the perfect place to start. Though it is whispered that all is not as it seems behind its grand façade.

The rumors, it turns out, ring with truth. The halls are saturated with sensuality, desire and lust. Despite the scandalous duties she is asked to perform, she is determined not to stumble on what could be her first step toward her dreams. Dreams that, lately, have included the manor’s fiery haired groomsman.

A promise to watch over his younger half-brother brought Adam to Portage Place. For the first time in five years of enjoying the delights of the manor’s unbridled debauchery, Emily’s innocence touches the protector that still lives deep in his core. This house of sin may have ruined him, but he will see to it that it doesn’t ruin her.

It seems, however, that behind every door lurks a conspiracy to bind Emily in velvet chains of desire. Until the only way out is for Adam to take the biggest risk of all…

~~~~~

Most of my stories start out with a scene from the book coming to me in a dream. House Of Sin started out just that way.

Here is a snip from the scene that came to me first…
EXCERPT:

Sibila sat back on her heels, and her sensuous blue eyes fluttered open. “My turn, Adam.”
“Indeed it is, but let us involve Miss Grey.” He extended his hand to Sibila and helped her to rise to her feet. “Miss Grey.” His emerald eyes, a sliver engulfed by passion, captured her.

May lightning strike me still! Emily’s eyes widened, and her stomach flipped. The desire in those eyes immobilized her and unwantedly inspired a deep repressed part of her soul. In that exact instant, she wanted him to desperately want her. She glanced at Sibila and then back to him.

His gaze swept her body and settled on her hands in a wave of heat. His eyes shone with that desire. Could he be her one love?

Silliness, Emily, silliness. No other person can enter one’s soul with a stare, and he was futtering another. Still—she ripped her gaze to Sibila, hoping for some gesture to bring her back to reality. There was something about Adam.

“What did you have in mind, Adam?” Sibila grinned at Emily and winked.
Winked! As if all this were an acceptable existence. Sibila was scandalous…and wanton…and, well, intriguing. If Emily were to survive and keep her innocence in this house, she needed to know more, and Sibila seemed happy to trust her, show her and be her confidant. Her stomach filled with flutters.

“I would like Miss Grey to place me into your sheath.”

Emily closed her eyes. That required her to act. Fortitude. She reopened them.

“What a delightful and a wonderful first experience for her.” Sibila’s blue eyes danced with mischief. “Don’t you think, dearest Emily?”

“Ummmm.” She would have to touch him and her. Her heart lodged in her throat. The words simply would not form to express the myriad emotions that swirled in her. Fear of losing her innocence and her dreams. Fear of losing her post, and curiosity of what this act entailed with Adam. The contradictions.

She stared at Adam’s peg, and her tongue slid out and nervously wet her lips. Heat as warm as the sun outside blazed to her cheeks, and her stomach flipped. No matter how wrong it was, the desire to touch him pulsed through her. She could not admit out loud to her longing, but touching was not the full act. She would still be a virgin when she walked out of the stall. She should embrace this moment and touch him.
~~~
You can purchase House Of Sin at Samhain, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.

And now on to the contest!

If you would like to win a copy of one of my books-either this one, or one of my others-just post an answer to this questions on this thread.

Do you believe in Love at first sight? And if so, has it ever happened to you?

On January 12th at 9pm PST I will randomly select one winner from the answers.

Hugs to all of you and thanks again Smutketeers for having me over for a visit.

Lacy

www.LacyDanes.com

That is my new decree. That means today I am one year younger! Yay! Follow me through this beautiful land of delusion and there might be a contest after *wink*

It is 2011. Just saying that number is tripping me out almost as much as my age…if I weren’t aging backwards that is. 2011. Where are the transporters and floating cars? Where is that dip or pill that instantly makes your wrinkles and cellulite disappear? Or the computers with personality who smart mouth you while you take a shower that dyes your hair and changes your eye color for the day (thats from an old Lindsey book)

Your birthday is also a time for review. Was it only 2008 that my first books came out?

My Temptation Unveiled Series (Lifting the Veil was the very first story I ever finished-and no-the series is not done-thats one of my resolutions for the New Year)

Lifting the Veil Blurb:

I got a $50.00 Amazon gift certificate for Christmas and I’m stumped! There must be 100 books I want and I don’t know where to start. I want some good erotic romance, of course, some women’s fiction since I’m hoping to branch into that genre this year, and there’s some awesome YA out there. I’m also looking for some good, dark vampire stories.

I love that we can get so many awesome New York pubbed print books in e-book formats now! And you can, too-all of the Smutketeers’ print backlist is available now in Kindle, Nook, etc. If any of you are into the hot BDSM stories, my Bantam books THE DARK GARDEN, THE DARKER SIDE OF PLEASURE and THE BEAUTY OF SURRENDER (although that one is really more about Shibari rope bondage, but the power play is definitely still there), or my debut Eve Berlin book, PLEASURE’S EDGE, are all available as e-books!

If you just want some smokin’ erotic romance, try my EXOTICA: SEVEN DAYS OF KAMA SUTRA, NINE DAYS OF ARABIAN NIGHTS, or, if you’re into a cougar story (rowr!) try my book FORBIDDEN FRUIT. That one is also a food fetish story, so there lots of chocolate and whipped cream and honey and a hot chef. Mmm, now I’m hungry!

My fellow Smutketeers have some awesome books in their backlists, too! No one writes steamy shifter stories like Crystal-the covers alone will make you swoon! Take a look at ON THE PROWL, CARNAL DESIRES or UNTAMED. Can you say Meow!!? Feisty writes sizzling contemporary power play books-a little BDSM on the lighter side. Her heroes are to die for! Have you read DARE TO SURRENDER or BOUND TO PLEASE? I know a lot of you are already familiar with R.G.’s Bone Daddy in POSSESS ME-a voodoo Loa spirit who makes people do all sorts of lovely, wicked things…well, they really only do the things they’ve fantasized about…and then it’s Bone Daddy’s turn…I can’t say more without giving too much away-you’ll just have to read it for yourself!

Our newest Smutketeer, the fabulous and lovely Karen Erickson is all e-books, all the time (so far, anyway). You must read her latest, BABY DON’T LOSE MY NUMBER. Have you seen that cover? Or what about PLAYING WITH FIRE? SCANDALOUS? They’ll all make you want to play with some scandalous fire-hot stuff!

So…hmm….give me one sec to calm down…*fanning self*….tell me what books you’re going to buy with your holiday gift certificates. I need some suggestions. And of course, the Smutketeers always love to hear that some of our books are on your to buy list. :) In case you need some encouragement, I’ll give one commenter a $10.00 Amazon gift certificate. I’ll announce my winner on Wednesday, so be sure to check back. And right after that we start with our awesome lineup of 2011 guest authors!

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday and are recovered from your hangovers!

All For Smut, and Smut For All!