RG:WINNERS of yesterday’s post are:
Send an email to me at email@example.com for your prizes :)
RG the Zen Philosopher:
“This is the end. Beautiful friend, the end.” (The Doors) However, we do still seem to be here. We’ll see what happens in the next few days and weeks. If it “starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes and aeroplanes”…and something about Lenny Bruce not being afraid (REM reference) then we’ll need to keep our eyes open. :) But as far as we’re concerned-we are still ALL FOR SMUT AND SMUT FOR ALL! And we have too many fun and amazing things planned for the next year to go quietly. We will “rage, rage against the dying of the light” (not a song-a poem) lol
I had a thought last night I shared on FB. That if we all pretended we were really close to it actually being the end of the world, and then we got a second chance–what would we do with it? How could we make this 2013 better? What can we try that we’ve always dreamed of trying, what could we learn or attempt that we always put off before? If we all took a leap, jumping courageously into that void we’d always shied away from, couldn’t this coming year be the best we’ve ever had? We would take that trip to Ireland or that class for photography. We would learn martial arts or buy a sketchbook. We would write that book we always wanted to but put off. We would really get healthy, really finally talk to our secret crush…The possibilities are endless.
That’s what brushes with Armageddon and second chances give everyone *G*. At least in the movies. Perspective on our lives. Another chance to seize the day. Carpe Diem :) So, even if you never had any reason to believe today would be different than any other…pretend. I’ll do it too. Let’s pretend we were suddenly saved by a mysterious superhero or a heroic International group of astronauts risking their lives to divert that giant asteroid.
What will you do in 2013 with your second chance? See contest below
One of the things we’ll do is keep writing more books for you. Books you can read while taking a break from climbing Mount Everest or saving your own little corner of the world. :)
Eden Bradley’s enormously popular book that is currently taking over the world might be a good starting point. The Dark Garden
You can follow that up with the shockingly intense and insanely well-written Robin L Rotham offering, FrankenDom
And, if you are into second chances-you can head on over to New Orleans and meet a voodoo Loa on a mission. Still my favorite set of heroes in the three novella anthology Possess Me
My alter ego also has the first book in a series meant to save, if not our world, than another clockworky one named Theorrey in Geared for Pleasure
And now, just in case we didn’t tell you about it for the last two days-we have our Kinky Christmas Carol that all 3 of us wrote for this holiday season!!
GETTING SCROOGED by Eden Bradley
Blinded to the present…
Holly Knight doesn’t have time for Christmas. As the head of Knight Enterprises in Chicago, she doesn’t have time for anything, not even a personal life–other than her brief, secret liaisons with men who remain strangers. Until a new stranger comes to town…
Ebenezer Hall is a ‘closer’. His job: negotiate a merger with a woman who is as notorious for being a hard-ass as he is for being a charmer no one can resist–and he’s not above mixing business with pleasure as long as it’ll get him what he wants.
The chemistry is sizzling hot, and things get even hotter when Ben’s friends and long-time lovers Justin and Kit arrive in Chicago. Three gorgeous men are even more exciting than one, and Holly’s body is sated in ways she’s never even dreamed of. But she can’t allow herself to be distracted for long–her priority is always business…and protecting her heart.
Can an infamous playboy and a hard-hearted corporate mogul ever admit to their heart’s desires? Or will it take a little holiday magic for them to realize that all they want for Christmas is each other?
EXCERPT: (Semi X-rated)
They were in the elevator as it rose, paused to let people in, then to let others out, until finally they were alone. Ben moved in, wrapped a strong arm around her waist, and kissed her.
There was nothing tentative about it, as first kisses so often were. He pressed her lips hard with his, swept them with his tongue, pushed his way in.
God, his mouth was sweet. Maybe something about the glass of vodka he’d drunk. Or maybe it was just him.
His hand went into her hair, held on tight as he angled her head, forcing her to open to him even more.
His tongue delved, explored, demanded. His body pressed closer, pressed her right up against the wood paneling of the elevator while it rushed upwards, ten stories, twenty. She felt as if her breath were rushing at that same pace, emptying her lungs. She gasped, and Ben backed off enough that she could take in some air. Then he dove back in, kissing her so hard it made her lips ache. Made her body ache for him.
As if reading her mind his arm tightened around her waist, and his hulking size made her feel small and feminine. Taken over in a way she couldn’t deny. She wanted to fight it. But the kissing was too good.
His hips arched, and she felt the press of his erection against her thigh, couldn’t help but part her legs so he could slip his muscular thigh in between.
And he never stopped kissing her, so sweet and hard at the same time, his tongue soft and wet and oh God, the man could kiss!
She wound her arms around his neck, trying to hold him closer. His muscular thigh pressed between hers, a lovely pressure on her swollen mound. She spread a little wider, and even through his clothes and hers she felt the insistent pressure of his leg against her aching clit.
Could she come simply from this? Need was like a pounding pulse-beat in her veins, her head, between her thighs.
When he shoved her shoulders hard against the wood behind her, she gasped out a breath.
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
“Kiss me,” she countered. “Don’t stop.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and she caught the small hint of a smile on his lips before she fisted her hands in his hair and pulled him in. He kissed her in exactly the way she wanted, needed—hungrily, devouring her mouth.
Finally he pulled back. His blond hair was mussed, his mouth soft and loose, his eyes a study in lust: gleaming, pupils wide, lids sleepy.
God, she needed him.
“Need to fuck you properly, Holly. In my bed. Now.”
He reached behind her and hit a button, and it was only then she realized he’d stopped the elevator to kiss her. She smiled to herself as the elevator rose once more. His hand never left her waist, his fingers squeezing there possessively.
The doors opened and they stepped out together, bodies close. It was a short walk down the hall to his room. He pulled the key card from his pocket, opened the door and swung her inside, pushing her back up against the door once more.
“You think this is how it’s going to be?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes. Because you like it. Oh, you’ll fight me on it. Argue. I don’t mind. I’m still going to strip you down right here, until you’re in nothing but your panties and bra, and maybe these heels that make your legs look so gorgeous. And then I’m going to fuck you with my fingers until you can’t stand it anymore. And only then will I decide if it’s time for you to come.”
“I’ll come when I’m good and ready.”
“Oh, you’ll be ready. I know you, Holly, more than you think I do. Perhaps more than you know yourself. I know what you need. I know what your body requires in order for you to really get off. And I intend to make that happen. Over and over. Until you’re shaking so hard you can’t see straight. Until you can’t think, can’t breathe except to beg for more.”
“I’ll never beg,” she said, knowing it might only be half true with this man. But she wasn’t going to let him think she would do it. Not yet.
He slid down her body, then up again, so that she felt every wrinkle in their clothes acutely, the buttons of his shirt, all down the front of her body.
Oh yes, he knew what he was doing. And she was going to let him do it. As long as he didn’t think it was all his idea.
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NOT SO TINY TIM by Robin L Rotham
Avoiding the future…
Video game mogul, philanthropist and heir to the Knight empire, Tim Crichton has three F-zones—the friend zone, the family zone, and the, er… fun-buddy zone. No crossover is allowed because it might create a fourth—the forever zone—and Tim knows forever just isn’t in the cards for him.
Miranda Girard has always known she and Tim were meant to be together, but when she got tired of waiting and made a move, he rejected her. Now it’s time for their Christmas reunion dinner and she’s damn well going to put on a happy face and attend—after she stops at the bar for a little liquid courage.
Peter Vaughn can’t wait for his new house to be finished so he can move out of Tim’s apartment—living with a man he wants and can’t have gets old quick. But work on the house has ground to a halt and he’s stuck there until after the new year.
It all seems hopeless until a jolly old doorman nudges Peter and Miranda together, and a little Christmas magic quickly escalates to a scorching holiday encounter that will either rescue Tim from a lonely future…or cost him the two most important people in his life.
EXCERPT: (Probably X-rated *G*)
Don’t go anywhere.
Miranda snorted. As if she could.
She tugged at her bonds, hardly able to believe what was happening to her. Nothing in her experience, or even her imagination, had prepared her for this. Suddenly all her preconceived notions of lovemaking seemed ridiculously naïve and pedestrian.
No subtle seduction for Peter Vaughn, no wine and soft music and dim lights. He was an in-your-face lover, in every sense of the word. Lights on, clothes off, woman tied down and blindfolded…
Her breath hitched. Oh God, she was tied down. What was he going to do to her while he had her restrained like this? Whatever it was, she had a feeling it would make her incredibly uncomfortable—but leave her unbelievably satisfied. She knew already he was just that good.
She tugged again, but the sound of an electronic hum and click made her stiffen.
Oh crap, please tell me that’s not the front door!
Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a door closing softly. Oh God, had Tim come home? She tried to listen for movement but she couldn’t hear a thing over the roaring in her ears. Where in the hell was Peter?
Wait, he hadn’t told her she couldn’t call him. “Peter!”
“Miranda, what’s… Oh hell.”
Miranda swallowed hard, finding it impossible to draw a deep breath. “Please tell me he’s not here.”
The room remained deathly quiet and her heartbeat picked up speed. Oh God, he was here.
She heard metal clanking somewhere behind her head, and then Peter was touching her hands, soothing her. “It’s okay, Miranda. Just relax and take some deep breaths.”
He was still touching her when someone sank into the leather easy chair to her left and propped their feet on the ottoman beside her.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Tim drawled.
She heard Peter stand up as she sucked in one shaky breath after another. This was a nightmare worse than anything she could have imagined. Tim would think she was doing this to get back at him.
“Peter, will you take off the blindfold, please?” she asked in a shaky voice.
An instant later, the mask came off and she blinked against the relative brightness.
Though she dreaded Tim’s anger and scorn, she looked at him, prepared to defend herself.
But he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Peter with defiant eyes, daring him to…what? She couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on in that artfully tousled head.
Peter was staring back, standing there above her with his hands on his hips, oblivious to his own nudity. Unbelievably, he was getting another erection.
“Really?” she said. “You’re turned on by this?”
He glanced down at her. “Aren’t you?”
Peter raised an inquiring brow. “So you don’t want Tim to join us?”
Miranda’s breath left her in a rush and her nipples prickled to life again as she looked at Tim.
She couldn’t be that lucky…could she? “I don’t know. Is that an option?”
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MARLEY IN CHAINS by R.G. Alexander
Running from the past…
Marley Knight-Williams has avoided the ghosts of her past for seventeen years. Now, after one thoughtless decision and too many margaritas, they’ve found her. Her memories, her heartache…and her men. Just in time for the holidays.
Boxer and gym owner Michael O’Shea is at the end of his rope. When his best friend Carlos comes home from serving his country, he’s a changed man—broken and wounded, inside and out. Michael knows there is only one person who can bring him back, one person who can make this a Christmas they will all remember. And he’ll do whatever it takes to bring her around.
Even if he has to break out the chains.
Time has changed them all, but it’s only banked the embers of their passion, and when the flames flare to life, they burn hotter than ever. Will the heat be enough to sear away the obstacles that stand between them? Or will it drive them apart before they can finish what they started all those years ago?
Excerpt: (Light blush)
“I guess I’ve missed a lot.” She swallowed as she stared at the ridges of his stomach, the dark color of his nipples and the droplets of sweat cooling on his skin. She wanted to lick it off his body. Wanted to feel it on her skin. “Everything is so…um…different. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Not everything, princess,” he growled, moving closer slowly, as if he didn’t want to startle her. “Some things appear to be exactly the same.”
Did he mean the way she reacted to him whenever they were alone? The way her throat closed and her thighs heated whenever he looked at her the way he was looking at her now?
She’d imagined this office so many times. The cot in the corner where she and Michael had once lain in silence, listening to the grunts of the men working out downstairs while she allowed him to touch her. Just touch her. Over her clothes. On her newly budding breasts. Between her thighs. It had been exciting and forbidden. The possibility of being caught. The innocent eroticism of the moment.
Grown-up Marley wanted more. She imagined him bending her over the desk and taking her. Now, when everyone knew she was here. When they’d all be able to hear her cries of pleasure.
She really needed to get a hold of herself.
“I know about Carlos,” she said, shifting and feeling the denim of her jeans graze her sensitive sex. “I want to help. I just…I’m not sure what you want from me. Or why you think I could do anything at all.”
Michael smiled. “You’ve always been good at changing the subject, princess. But I’ll let it slide for now since you actually showed up. The answer is on the bookshelf. The envelope beneath the little tree.”
A small, potted evergreen. He was still doing that? They’d gotten one every year, decorated it carefully, then made sure to plant it somewhere the day after Christmas. So the memories would live on as long as the trees were growing. It was Carlos who’d started that tradition, but Marley had always loved the sentiment.
She walked over to the bookshelf near the window and lifted the pot. A crumpled, stained envelope, right where he said it would be. She opened it and began to read, feeling heat warm her cheeks and pain squeeze her heart. This was too intimate. Too personal. She didn’t have the right anymore. Not to have this kind of window into the tender soul of a man she hadn’t seen in so long. Oh, Carlos, she silently sighed. She hadn’t even seen him and he was already breaking her heart.
When she finished reading her sigh was shaky. “You think that’s what he wants? I don’t know if I can… Michael? What are you doing?”
He’d come up behind her, gripping her hips with his strong hands as he pressed his erection against the curve of her ass. “I can’t fucking help it, Marley. I’ll stop if you tell me to but, seeing you in here, like this—do you remember?”
He knew she did. He rocked his hips against her and she gasped, her fingers tightening on the pages of the letter as he slid his hands up to caress the sides of her breasts. Lightly. Teasingly.
His voice was rich with need. “I’m not talking about the touching, though I remember that too. I’m talking about that time you and Carlos caught me in here before the gym was open. When I’d slept here again because the family had descended and we had no more room in the house. That morning I woke up dreaming about you, still smelling your shampoo on the pillow. I was only seventeen. I didn’t have as much practice at control. Didn’t think I needed to.”
How could she have forgotten that? Her eyes closed and she could see it so clearly. She’d come in right before Carlos, both of them smiling in secret delight at the idea of waking him with their frozen hands and a bag of his favorite kolaches from the corner bakery.
She’d never seen an erection before. Certainly she’d never seen Michael’s. Never imagined she’d be so instantly titillated by the way he gripped it in his fist, his naked hips pumping upward as he gritted his teeth and made a sound that was almost one of pain.
Carlos had taken her hand in his and squeezed, trying to drag her backward without disturbing him. She’d resisted. She wasn’t sure why. She only knew she wanted to see more. Needed to see everything.
Michael’s voice in her ear told her he was remembering it too. “I opened my eyes just in time to see you lick your lips. Did you know you’d done that? Licked the same lips I was imagining wrapped around my cock?” He growled. “Knowing you were watching had me coming harder than I ever had. Watching those pretty green eyes go wide when you saw it happen—fuck—I knew in that moment that you wanted to know. What it tasted like. What I tasted like. Was I right?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Lost in the moment. The memories.
One hand slipped down again, unbuttoning the button of her jeans. “Tell me to stop, Marley.”
When she didn’t, he slid his hand inside her panties until his fingers were pressed against her clit. “There it is,” he sighed. “That’s what hasn’t changed. I still make you wet. Still make you want. After all this time, you still want to know, don’t you? Still want to know what could have happened. You must, because you haven’t pushed me away. Haven’t told me to stop or slapped my face.”
She shook her head, but they both knew she was a horrible liar. Even as she tried to deny it, she set the letter down and covered his hand with both of hers, forcing his fingers to press harder against her, to move lower.
Michael hummed. “Yeah, you still love this. The princess can hide in her tower all she wants, but we know the truth, you and I.” He lowered his voice to a whisper that skimmed across her cheek like a caress. “We know what a bad girl you are.”
She was bad. She needed to stop him before she came. It had been so long—how could his touch still do this to her? It took away all her defenses. Made her ache for more. His middle finger slipped inside her with shallow thrusts and she gasped, her nails digging into the back of his hand until he growled.
The sound of the office door creaking open made her tense an instant before she heard the irritated male voice. “Jesus, Michael. In the middle of the day? If you have company you should at least lock the damn door.”
Michael’s hand slipped out of her pants and reached past her to toss the letter swiftly behind a stack of books on the top shelf, leaving Marley to attempt to zip up and button her jeans with shaking fingers.
His body heat left her as he moved to face the door. “We have company, Shakespeare. We were just waiting for you.”
Marley turned slowly around and watched as Carlos got his first glimpse of her. His face paled and his golden brown eyes darkened with recognition. He looked just as shocked as she’d felt when she saw Michael at her door last night.
He swallowed. “Marley?”
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Answer the philosophical pondering above. What will you do this New Year that you’ve never done before…and one last time-let a friend know about our Kinky Christmas Carol, post on facebook or twitter, or if you’ve read it, give it a review on Amazon, B&N or Goodreads and tell us about it here. We will have 3 winners. Each will receive a $10 gift card!! So join early and often-we will pick the winner tomorrow-just in time for last minute book purchases before the holidays :)
ALL FOR SMUT…you know lol
AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!