Ten years ago any book with BDSM might be considered dark, but now what was once rare and oh-so-naughty has subgenres and offshoots that range from racy to hard core. While I wouldn’t classify any of my books as light, fluffy reads, I do like to explore both the serious, dark side of BDSM as well as the loving, super-sexy side.
In Undone Rebel, a 2012 RT Book Review Awards Nominee, Addie signs on for a very sexy photo shoot—with three Doms. Things get complicated when she develops feelings for one of them. (Also, this book is free for a limited time!)
In Betrayed by Love the BDSM play is much darker. In it we meet Savannah and Roman five years after they split up because of BDSM. They’d gone too dark, too fast, and bad things happened to Savannah.
I enjoy both these stories, and in each of them it’s the couple’s love for one another at the core of the story. Dark or light, BDSM can be what brings people together, or what drives them apart (and then brings them back together).
When amateur fetish model and rockabilly princess Adelita “Addie” Sanchez is asked to model for an instructional BDSM book she turns them down, adamant that she’s not a porn star. That changes when she meets the three male dominants behind the project, particularly Lane Therres, who convinces her that the project is more art than porn, and she’d be safe in his hands.
The rules of the photo sessions are clear—there’s no sex, and Addie can call a halt to anything she’s uncomfortable with. What self reliant, strong-willed Addie hadn’t counted on was enjoying giving herself over to the powerful Doms and their ropes, chains and toys. When she falls for Lane, while enjoying Emory’s touch, Addie turns away from both men, scared of what they’re doing to her. Can a relationship built on a BDSM contract ever be anything but whips and chains? Lane changes his Dom leather for shining armor to prove to his rockabilly princess that even the most gallant knights sometimes prefer dungeons.
Five years ago, a terrible betrayal tore Roman and Savannah apart. Roman’s burgeoning interest in the world of BDSM and his desire to master Savannah led them deep into the heart of sexual fetish. A weekend at the house of a high-powered Dom was supposed to be the next step in the exploration of their Dominant/submissive relationship, but when their host convinces Roman to turn Savannah over to him for training, their love is stretched beyond the breaking point.
Savannah—believing Roman has given her away forever—flees, but not before suffering at the hands of the sadistic Dom. Roman knows nothing of what she’s endured, believing Savannah left him because of his desires.
When they meet again five years later, they must decide whether lies will continue to keep them apart, or if what they had is enough to rekindle a once-in-a-lifetime love.
Inside Scoop: This story contains descriptions of nonconsensual sexual acts, hard-core BDSM play and graphic violence.
Monster print book (US only) or choice of ebook (International)
Lila Dubois is a tech writer by day and a romance writer by night. She’s living her own version of a romance novel with her Irish Farm Boy, whom she imported to Los Angeles. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England, Lila speaks five languages, none of them–including English–fluently.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…I actually finished a book!
Okay, so it was last October and I was sitting right here in this chair, clacking away on this very laptop. But I did actually finish a book–a full-length, 76,000-word novel–and I finished it just 49 days after I conceived the original idea. That novel was FrankenDom, and it’s releasing for the second time today at Samhain!
Originally FrankenDom was supposed to be a novella, a short but intensely hot riff on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (which I must admit, much to my shame, I’ve never read). But as I wrote, the plot became increasingly complex and the characters–dare I say it?–came to life. By the end, it felt like I had almost no creative control–they wrote their own story. And I loved being able to let them do it.
WHY did FrankenDom come to me so quickly, when some books (ahem, can anyone say Aliens?) take almost 4 years? I don’t know for sure. Maybe because I thought it was “just a novella” at first and didn’t feel overwhelmed. Or maybe it’s because it’s a “first” book rather than a sequel and I wasn’t bound by anything other than the limits of my own imagination. But one thing I do know–once I was struck by that creative lightning, there was no holding it back.
FrankenDom was originally self-published because I wanted it out in time for Halloween and I didn’t finish it until just a couple of days beforehand. But I missed having a publisher behind me, especially when it came to editing. I’m a good line editor, but not for my own books. I hated knowing readers were spending their hard-earned money on anything less than my best, so after the first of the year, I pulled it and sold it to Samhain. Now it’s been professionally edited within an inch of its life, but otherwise it’s exactly the same story–if you’ve already bought it, don’t buy it again because there’s nothing new or different in it.
FrankenDom‘s amazing original cover was created by none other than our very own R.G. Alexander, and I absolutely adored it. I love Kanaxa‘s cover, too, but there was just something so intense about the original, something so personal in the way he looked at you…
And that tag line RG added! Let’s experiment… It gave me chills and thrills every time I looked at it. I loved that cover so much, I actually ordered a handful of posters to use as giveaways before I realized I’d be selling the story to Samhain.
I still have those posters, and in honor of FrankenDom‘s re-release, I’m going to give one away, autographed and everything, to one lucky commenter.
A brilliant woman, a couple of mad scientists, and an erotic experiment with shocking results…
Vascular surgeon Dr. Rachel McBride knows she’d be insane to pass up the chance to work on Julian Kilmartin’s cutting-edge research project. The reclusive neurologist has been the object of her submissive daydreams since residency, and time and distance have only strengthened the dark compulsion.
To complicate matters, a former lover who was all too aware of her attraction to Julian is also on the team. Charmingly obnoxious Dr. Colin Carter was Julian’s protégé back in the day, and nothing appears to have changed…or has it? There’s an earnestness to Colin now, an urgency she’s never before seen in him.
When she accepts the offer and travels to Eastern Europe, Rachel discovers that research is only part of her job description—and her total submission is only the beginning of the sexual excesses Julian and Colin will demand from her.
This book has been previously published.
You should assume any Robin L. Rotham book contains BDSM elements, anal play, and every possible ménage à trois permutation. Additionally, FrankenDom contains mad scientists, real dungeons, whips, chains, spanking, a variety of taboo fantasies, mild puppy play, electrical devices in uncomfortable places, humor, and an intimidating ratio of sadists to masochists.
Colin finally opened his eyes and smiled. “Rachel.”
I smiled back. “Colin.”
He sighed and cupped my cheek. “Jesus, I’ve missed you so much.”
I blinked. “Really?”
He pulled me down and gave me the long, leisurely tongue kiss I’d dreamed about long after he vanished from my life. Colin kissed like he had all the time in the world for it, like kissing was all there was, and I’d adored it. He was such a bad boy and yet such an attentive kisser. Maybe that’s why so many women were attracted to bad boys—they were the only ones who really knew how to kiss.
And Colin was a bad boy, at least in my mind, and I’d thought so long before we were lovers. He’d acted like he was exempt from the rules that governed the rest of us, always so full of pent-up energy he seemed like a bomb about to go off. He was constantly cutting in line at the cafeteria, not paying for fruit he grabbed on his way out, showing up late for rotations and usually looking as though he’d just come off a hard night’s drinking, telling his patients and their families to ignore visitation hours, bringing in fast food for diet-restricted patients…
He got away with it all because he was so brilliant and charming and Dr. Kilmartin’s prize resident. His brazenness pissed me off on an almost hourly basis, but I just bit my tongue and waited for him to finally get what was coming to him.
Then one day he’d turned those devastating blue eyes on me and asked me out. Taking my wide-eyed shock as acceptance, he’d dragged me to his beat-up old Camaro, picked up a pizza he’d already ordered at a drive-through window, rolled two stop signs on the way to my apartment and gotten me under him in my bed, graying out from multiple orgasms, that very evening.
Bad, bad boy, Colin Carter was.
As if to prove it, he pushed his sweats down and kicked them off without breaking lip contact. He pulled me over him with a sigh and I spread my thighs around his hips, rocking eagerly as the kiss heated up.
Breaking away, he breathed, “Ride me, Rachel.”
I sat up. “Really?”
“Why do you keep asking that?” he asked. “Of course, really.”
“Well you never let me be on top when we were together before.”
“I was always too impatient,” he said with a sleepy-eyed smile, molding my breasts with his hands. “That’s why Julian turned my gonads inside out earlier, so I could take my time and do more then bend you over the bed and fuck you brainless.”
Hot lust erupted in my belly. “I never minded.”
“And I loved that about you, trust me,” he murmured. “Now back up and get on my cock, slave. I feel like letting you do all the work for a change.”
I complied without hesitation and nearly cried with happiness as my swollen, tender opening spread to accept his lovely cock. “Oh God!”
His stomach jumped with a low laugh. “No, it’s just me. Are you all right?” he asked, searching my face avidly. “Is this too much tonight?”
“Mmm, no, I’m good. It feels…really good.” But I appreciated his asking. There was a time he wouldn’t have.
He stroked my nipples with his thumbs. “You missed me too, didn’t you, Rachel?”
Looking down at him through my lashes, I said, “Maybe.”
One autographed poster of FrankenDom’s original cover and any one of my backlist books, digital or autographed print. If you’d like to win, just leave a comment on this post. The winner will be announced before I leave for the Romantic Times Convention in Kansas City on Tuesday, April 30th.
An Interview with Kelly and Ryan from By Mutual Desire
Conducted by Dalton Diaz and Dr. Chase
(Kelly and Ryan are seated on the small couch in Dr. Chase’s office in Boston, facing DD and Dr. Chase.)
RYAN: (One arm around Kelly, foot going a mile a minute…) “Why are we doing this here?”
DD: “Relax, Ryan. I just thought it would be easier for everyone to talk in a neutral place.”
RYAN: “That’s what makes me nervous. If either of you tries to tell me I can’t have sex with my wife, I’m out of here.”
KELLY: “We’re both out of here.”
DD: “No one is saying you can’t have sex. Well, I’d rather you didn’t do it here. In fact (DD turns red), that’s what I meant by a neutral place. You guys hijacked the story and went places I didn’t even know about.”
(Ryan, Kelly, and Dr. Chase stare at DD, brows raised.)
DD: “Seriously? You think I came up with places like, The Toy Factory, Anal Mountain, and Punishment Hall? Tongue Alley, maybe, but…”
KELLY: “Hey, Punishment Hall was all Jackson and Mai. We weren’t even there.”
DD: “I wasn’t at any of them!”
(Again, brow raised silence.)
RYAN: “Alrighty, then. About Reunion Island…”
KELLY: “Ooh, yes! If you already have a list of adventures, I have a few things to add.” (Smacks Ryan on the arm when he starts laughing.)
DD: “You’ll have to wait your turn. Caroline, Jordan, and Seth from Illegal Moves have been waiting forever for their sequel, so they’re first.”
RYAN: “Yeah, we read that one. Fair warning: don’t get any ideas about me and Jackson. You and that Samantha Cayto seem to have a thing for—”
DD:“Oh. My. God! How many times do I have to tell you, it’s not the author? I write what you show me, plain and simple.”
DR. CHASE: “I think this interview is over.”
DD: “But it’s only been five minutes.”
DR. CHASE: “Kelly and Ryan can go. You stay right where you are. We have some work to do.”
(Ryan is laughing outright while Kelly bites her lip to keep from doing the same.)
DD: “Fine, but I have a little surprise before they go.” (The couple turns at the door to look back at DD.) “I was able to contact Jackson and Mai, and they have a message for you: One of us has a new piercing. See you on Reunion Island.”
(It’s DD’s turn to laugh as the door closes on their groans. It’s short-lived.)
DR. CHASE: “So tell me. Do people often take over your thoughts to describe their private sex lives?”
Married for ten years, adventurous Kelly and Ryan are thrilled to take part in a fantasy come true—a week-long sex therapy study on a tropical island. The resort is first class, the sex off the charts.
Ryan’s always denied the issue that stands between them—the issue that threatens to destroy their marriage sooner or later. As they learn new sensual tricks from the other couples on the island, each x-rated assignment brings them closer to breaking down that barrier. When they do, will the pieces fit back together?
Reader Advisory: This book contains voyeurism, m/m, group sex and BDSM. Can you say “WOOHOO!”?
Kelly sighed. “I’ll never look at another butterfly the same way.”
“At least not purple ones.” Ryan was stretched out over her, still in her. He leaned down and kissed her again. “Christ, that was good. Wanna go back to the bungalow and do it again?”
“Okay, but then that’s it for a few days. You heard what Cheryl said about using either toy too often in the beginning.”
“Yeah,” he glanced to the right. “And she’d know.”
Kelly turned her head to the next quilt. “Oh my god!”
Between Cheryl and Tom they must have been using at least five items. Kelly thought it was amazing that they knew what they all were, let alone found a way to incorporate more than one at a time. They had a pile of cleaned new toys on their quilt and as soon as one of them orgasmed the other removed the toys and threw them in the sudsy water, then replaced them from the pile. A pile they’d only managed to dent.
Cheryl had been a great tutor. She had guided Kelly instead of taking over, much to Ryan’s obvious relief. Still, he hadn’t been able to fully relax enough for it to be pleasurable until the lesson part was over. Kelly had felt the same way when it was Tom’s turn to guide Ryan on the application of the butterfly.
Exhibitionism was clearly not their thing when it came to making love with each other. Once they were the only ones on the quilt, it had all been worth it.
They had waited until Ryan was over her, inside her, to turn on both toys at the same time. She had no recollection of anything but pleasure after that, pleasure so intense it was literally blinding. She had no idea how much time had passed or how many orgasms were involved before Ryan had somehow managed to turn off both remotes and collapsed on top of her.
She had no idea how much time had passed while they’d regained their wits either.
“I’m going to clean up, okay?” Ryan asked.
Kelly nodded and let him slip off the butterfly. She sat up on their quilt, still not quite comfortable checking out the others in action but too curious to not do it. The first thing she noticed was Sabrina and Derek’s empty quilt. Susan and Doug had been first to start and he was now buried in his wife, sneaking peeks at her still-spread pussy every chance he got, so it was a surprise that someone else had finished who‘d started way down the line. Then again, Kelly and Ryan were done too.
Ian and Wes were on their sides, tongues, arms, legs and dicks tangled together as they held controllers for each other’s vibrating anal plugs. But it was Marisol and Dina she couldn’t peel her eyes from. Dina was crying softly, clinging to Marisol as Joe squatted behind them, talking softly. Just as he had that night with Susan and Doug. Something big had happened there.
“Ready?” Ryan asked. He held out his hand to help her up and they walked out, the best goody bag ever in hand.
The walk back felt so mellow and she felt so close to Ryan. She had to admit that sex really was great therapy. It just had to have a little follow-up.
“What happened to you in there before we got started?” she asked, hoping he’d open up about it.
“I honestly don’t know. I probably hadn’t quite recovered from our little revelation and I wasn’t ready to share intimacies with other people. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, very much so.” They walked in silence but Kelly’s heart sang with every step. It not only made sense, it was deep and thoughtful and so full of feelings that she would have had to pry it out of him with a shoehorn at home.
“Why didn’t you say anything all these years? I really had no idea you would be into…that.”
He laughed. “You can’t even say it, so how can you ask me with a straight face?”
“Just because it’s not something I enjoy doesn’t mean you don’t or won’t. God, here I am getting on your case about that and I’m guilty of thinking the same thing.”
“You enjoy it. Or you would if you’d just let yourself.”
“Is that what you think?” She was floored. “But I have let you. I mean, we’ve done stuff. Yesterday. We did stuff yesterday.”
“What did we do yesterday?” He was smiling. No, wait, he was trying not to laugh!
She whacked him on the arm. “Stuff!”
The laughter won. “Christ, Kel. I hate to tell you, but I’ve fit more of my finger into your bellybutton. And there’s a manila envelope at our door.”
“Perfect. You can roll it up and shove it—”
He took her mouth as he pressed her up against the outside of their door. “I love you.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I love you whether we do that ‘stuff’ or none of it at all.”
“I love you too.” She closed her eyes and simply breathed him in until he gave her a quick peck and stepped back so they could open the door.
“That’s better. Now where is our next adventure?”
She tore open the envelope as he punched in the key code, excited to see what was in store. The excitement was short-lived.
11 a.m. at Anal Mountain
Oh god. Maybe it had been about her fears and doubts all along.
If you’d like to win a copy of By Mutual Desire or Illegal Moves, or if you’d prefer a different digital book in my backlist, all you have to do is answer a simple question by posting right here in the comments. The answer itself (& the backlist!) can be found right on my website, www.DaltonDiaz.com I’ll randomly pick a winner at midnight on Sun, 4/28, EST. Since the prize is digital, non US residents are welcome to play.
Ready? Play fair! No looking at other comments first, and don’t forget to check back to see if you’ve won.
What number is Winters’ Thaw in the Cougar Challenge Series?
My turn to answer questions from the Smutketeers!
Why erotica? I tried toning down the sex for series books. My dark side just wouldn’t comply.
Do you collect anything? Books!! I am also an unapologetic toe ring whore.
Do you incorporate people you know into your stories? All the time, though just the names. It can get kind of gross to write erotica about people you know. One exception – Cheryl and Tom in By Mutual Desire are very real.
What are you reading right now? As you read this, I’ll have finished up JR Ward’s Lover at Last. I pre-ordered that sucker. Been waiting a long time for that one.
What inspired this story? EC started a new line with married main characters, called Branded. It started out being for that, but quickly morphed into fitting the Exotica line. Hmmm, too erotic for basic erotica? What a fantastic compliment!
Hugs or kisses? Hugs all around. Kisses depend on who and where.
Boxers, briefs or commando? Boxer briefs. Tight boxer briefs.
Quiet dinner in front of the fire or hot night on the town? Quite dinner and a hot night going to town in front of fire.
Cop or fireman? Both, in uniform.
Rough and ready cowboy or corporate big-wig in a sharp suit? Both, in uniform. ; )
Vampire or werewolf? Vampire. I’ve read sexy werewolf stories, but personally, I can’t get past the idea of all that hair and wet dog smell.
Soft, sensual make out session or throw you up against the wall? Yes, please.
Dog person or cat person? Um. Full disclosure? Guinea Pig person.
Huge thank you to the Smutketeers for hosting me. I had a blast!
Constantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.
What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.
The darkened alley behind Marguerite remained bare, only shadows hiding among the shadows. Although she heard footsteps, she saw nothing. She started walking again, a bit faster. She’d had her fair share of creeps over the years while working at the bar, but usually they were not a problem. She knew how to handle herself, and when to be wary. Something about tonight, though, had her hackles up.
As a native resident of New Orleans, there wasn’t much that frightened her about living in the French Quarter. Sure, they got a bad rap every now and then, and things could get out of control with machismo and alcohol mixed. At the heart of the city, though, it was kind, like a welcoming grandma with her arms open, waiting to give you a hug. Better not take a wrong step, or she just may give you a sharp little pinch.
She shoved her hands further into her pockets and hunched over, sheltering herself against the cold and the persistent feeling of being watched. Although she grew up with Voodoo a common practice, it wasn’t something she’d messed with before. Tonight went against her basic instincts. Sometimes those spells had a way of backfiring. What one requested didn’t always end up the way they had expected.
Madame Teresa was supposed to be the best. She’d long heard rumors on the street, and at the bar. If someone needed a problem solved, Teresa most often possessed a solution.
Marguerite stepped into the storefront, letting her eyes adjust to the muted lighting. At this time of night, the shop was surprisingly empty, with more tourists hitting up the well-known locations on Bourbon Street. Only those in the know or locals ventured off into the darkness.
The air smelled like honeysuckle in the spring, growing wild in the heat of the day. Sweet, but almost sickeningly so. She stifled the urge to cough.
A young, sultry-looking woman stood behind the counter. She eyed Marguerite with a self-confidence that made her even sexier. The mixture of her fine cheekbones and lighter skin spoke of her mixed heritage often found in these parts. As their eyes met, a sense of destiny threaded its way through Marguerite’s consciousness. Silly for her to think something like that. When was the last time she’d been with a woman? It had been years, and she was here to talk about a relationship with a man. She didn’t need to confuse the issue by being attracted to this woman.
Bet she tastes like a wild blend of spices: cinnamon, nutmeg topped with her own sugar mix, a secret inner voice whispered in her mind.
How much down time do you generally take between books?It really depends upon my writing schedule, and deadlines. I like to have some downtime, but usually as I’m writing one, another one starts to stalk me, and I need to jump on that one. It’s awful to have these voices warring for life in your head. Not really.
Do you do anything to celebrate or reward yourself for finishing a book? Champagne, baby. Well, usually I’ll do just about anything to celebrate with champagne so when I finish a story or book, or when it’s accepted!
If you could travel to any one place, where would it be?Firenze (Florence), Italy, and I’m aching to go back soon. It’s been too long. I’d love to rent a villa for a month.
What’s your idea of a romantic evening? Hotel room, away from daily life, room service, plush bedding and being able to sleep in really, really late. (Yeah, can you tell I’m a mom? A fantasy date includes sleep.)
Do you incorporate people you know into your stories?Not intentionally so far. There have been times when I’ve overheard conversations, and I’ll think it needs to be included in a story. But at this moment, those still exist in my head.
How do you recharge your batteries?Reading, writing and stepping away for a while. As an only child, I like some quiet, alone-time. As a mom of two, I don’t always get that.
What are you reading right now? Heather Graham’s latest release And, I just finished J.R. Ward’s Lover at Last. How long do we have to wait for the next one?
What inspired this story?This novella is part of my The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf series. Followers of the series will enjoy the story, but it also can stand alone. As I was finishing up the book before this one, The Wolfe Pack, I thought the series would be done. Then, Mirabella spoke up and told me she wanted her HEA. So, she inspired this story.
Beer or girly drink with an umbrella? Did I mention champagne?
Vanilla or chocolate? Vanilla all the way … for ice cream, that is.
Hugs or kisses? Kisses
Boxers, briefs or commando? If you’ve read my stories, boxer-briefs
Steak or sushi? Salmon
Jeans or stilettos? Colored jeans
Tropical beach or mountain cabin? Tropical beach
Cop or fireman? Fireman, and I wonder where I get that influence from?
Rough and ready cowboy or corporate big-wig in a sharp suit? I do write ménage – both
Vampire or werewolf? Oh, come on, really?
Soft, sensual make out session or throw you up against the wall? Soft and sensual play and then we can get rough
Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, and numerous steamy short stories and novellas.
Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.
Hello my darling Smutkedettes and new followers alike! Today I’m thrilled to reveal the brand spankin’ new (okay-so there may not be any spanking in this book…oh, wait…maybe there is…) cover for my contemporary erotic romance A 21ST CENTURY COURTESAN! Here it is:
This book first came out in 2009, and I’m thrilled it’s seeing a whole new life! Writing about a high class call girl was an interesting experience, and I loved writing this book so much! This one is a bit different from many of my books in that it’s written in first person-which I felt I needed to do to get the reader right inside her head (a call girl is not the most relatable character, necessarily). The hero, Joshua, is based on a real person-a man I fell madly in love with years ago. Things didn’t work out for us, but one of the awesome things about being a romance author is that we can write the happy endings we never got to have. Of course, we have to torture our characters a little first. *G*
Okay-enough rambling…Let’s take a look at the blurb and an excerpt!
She lives in a world of silk sheets, imported champagne,
and endless erotic delight…
She fulfills the deepest fantasies of the most powerful men in the world. Sensual, seductive, and discreet, Valentine Day is a high class call girl, pampered and adored by her exclusive clientele. But Valentine has a secret. Always in control, she’s never experienced true pleasure outside of her work. But all that is about to change…Now, the woman who’s spent a decade pleasuring others is about to embark on an erotic journey of her own…
It happens one night at the opera. Seated next to her in the dark is a stranger. As the music swells, so does the sexual tension. Gorgeous, sophisticated Joshua Spencer invites her for a drink, and soon she’s fantasizing about taking him home. When they finally come together in a night of the wildest lovemaking Valentine has ever known, she’s hooked. But suddenly Valentine is questioning everything. Joshua has no idea what she does for a living. Can she risk everything—including her hard-earned freedom and one final, shattering secret—for one man? And would he still want her if he knew the truth?
EXCERPT- (WARNING- X-Rated!)
When I pull open the door he’s smiling, a crooked, lustful grin. And my body is on fire even before he pushes through the door and takes me in his arms.
He kisses me, those long, lovely kisses again. And I am aching for him, longing, needing. His hands are everywhere, stroking my bare skin, that hard, demanding touch that makes me swoon. The darkness is like a cocoon around us as he sheds his clothes, pulls me up against his body, naked now, as I am. His erection is like a velvet-sheathed weight against my stomach, pressing, pressing, until I can hardly stand it.
Heat radiates from him, warming me, all but my bare feet on the cool floor. And then he is pushing me down on the long sofa, his body covering mine. The weight of him is erotic to me, just his big body holding me down. I want it just like this, need it: that sense of him being the one in control, of turning myself over to him, to my need for him.
My pulse is racing as he brushes his cheeks over my breasts, nuzzling them. My nipples are hard already. Wanting. My thighs are spreading as if of their own accord, opening up my body to him. And his hand slips down between us, stroking the wet flesh of my aching sex. Stroking, stroking, making me shiver all over with pleasure. God, he knows just how to do it, two fingers sinking savagely inside me while he circles my clitoris with his thumb. And when he pulls one nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the tender flesh, then really biting, I arch, my hips straining. His fingers sink deeper, his mouth sucking me in, one hand on my hip holding me down, pressing my body into the cushions. And my sudden climax is like an eruption of pleasure in my belly, in my sex, my breasts.
“Yeah, come for me, baby.”
I am coming and coming; I can’t stop. He’s working my clit still, his fingers pumping as he whispers encouragement against my parted lips.
“Oh yeah, baby. Come for me. So good…”
With my climax still shimmering through my system in small, lingering waves, I wrap my legs around him, beg him, “Please Joshua. I need you inside me.”
He reaches over the side of the sofa, comes back with a condom pulled from his pocket, I imagine. I’m just grateful he’s thought of everything. Then he’s kneeling up over me, slipping the condom on while I run my hands over the taut muscles of his stomach. He is watching me in that way he has as he lowers his body over mine. So slowly, making me need him even more, and his hands holding me down, pressing onto my shoulders, in that way he has which makes me feel completely taken over. That intensity is there, in the way his eyes glitter in the half-dark, in the tension in every muscle of his beautiful body, in the electric current in the air between us.
When his cock probes at the opening to my body, I pull in a deep, gasping breath, my hands going to his hips, trying to pull him in.
“Wait, Valentine. I want to enjoy every moment of this.”
Yes, he’s right. I am in too much of a hurry. I can’t help myself. I know he’ll make me come again.
He presses, and the tip of his cock slides right in, like steel over silk, I am that wet. My entire body throbs with pleasure, with anticipation. Then a little deeper. He stops, his expression one of exquisite pain, except that it is pleasure.
“Jesus, Valentine. You feel so good, I can barely stand it.”
My hand goes to his cheek; he is too beautiful at this moment for me not to touch him. Pleasure is like a thousand stars, burning into my body as he begins to move, just the tiniest surge of his hips against mine. And my chest feels tight, drawn, simply watching his face. My fingers trace along his jaw, over his lips, and he smiles. Then one hard, lovely thrust, and we are both groaning, panting.
His hands bear down on my shoulders, really using his weight, until I am unable to move. I love this sensation of being held, of being helpless beneath him. Of being his.
I am losing my mind.
But when he starts to move, really pumping inside me, I am too lost in sensation to think anymore. It is just his body and mine, the lovely friction, the scent of him, the power of his touch, his dark gaze, and his smooth skin beneath my grasping hands.
And as he thrusts into me, he moves one of his hands to my throat, presses just a little, just enough to constrict my air flow the tiniest bit, to make my body surge with alarm and hot, sharp pleasure. But I know so deeply that he won’t hurt me. And I’m a little dizzy; desire acute, exquisite, incredibly intense. As intense as his gaze hard on mine, glittering. Bottomless.
CONTEST! Now we must have a giveaway to celebrate the re-release of A 21ST CENTURY COURTESAN! How about I give away a print copy of a newer favorite of mine,TEMPTATION’S EDGE to one lucky winner who comments here and tells me which covers they like better for A 21ST CENTURY COURTESAN and TEMPTATION’S EDGE-the old or the new. I have copies available for the giveaway with the original cover:
…and here’s a look at the new, re-release cover (since we’re all about covers today):
I’ll announce my winner on Wednesday night, so be sure to check back! And you have to come back for our upcoming blog guests, Louis Bacio, Dalton Diaz, Lila DuBois, as well as the much anticipated re-relase of our own Robin Rotham’s FRANKENDOM on April 23rd!
Regina Carlysle is a multi-published, award winning author of over 45 erotic romances. A lifelong Texan, she is the over indulgent mom of two grown kids. Though these days she lives in sunny Florida, she hasn’t forgotten her west Texas roots and most of her naughty stories, both contemporary and paranormal, involve rugged Texans and the sassy women who love them. When Regina isn’t penning her next novel, she loves chatting with friends and hanging with her kids (who happen to be the coolest people she knows).
And now, the down-and-dirty Smutketeer Q&A!
Why erotica? That’s a good question and one I get all the time. In the early days, I wrote what I considered ‘hot’ romance and was often told by publishers that my work was “too” hot but hey…the hotness was always part of my story. So instead of altering my stories ‘to fit’, I simply made my language more frank and went erotic. It worked for me.
How much down time do you generally take between books? After finishing a book, I normally fight a little ‘brain-drain’ and will take a few days off. During that time, I’ll think about what I’ll tackle next.
Do you incorporate people you know into your stories? I always use bits and pieces of people I know in my books and sometimes even those who have passed on. My grandmother Minnie (much beloved by me and a very colorful character) was often featured in some of my older titles.
How do you recharge your batteries? Going shopping or out to lunch really does it for me but I also have some favorite tv shows that I’ll schedule in. Helps to step away from the computer sometimes.
Beer or girly drink with an umbrella? Definitely a ‘girly drink’
Vanilla or chocolate? Chocolate
Hugs or kisses? Hugs…lots of them
Boxers, briefs or commando? Briefs
Steak or sushi? Steak
Jeans or stilettos? Stilettos
Quiet dinner in front of the fire or hot night on the town? Ooh…a quiet dinner. Who knows what could happen?
Carried off into the sunset on the back of a galloping stallion or in the luxury of a racy corvette? I would say galloping stallion but I’m a little scared of huge animals. LOL. Still, it sounds awfully romantic.
Elegant fop or rough-edged rogue? Naturally, a rough-edged rogue
Tropical beach or mountain cabin? Mountain Cabin
Cop or fireman? Fireman
Rough and ready cowboy or corporate big-wig in a sharp suit? Cowboy…oh yes.
Vampire or werewolf? Werewolf
Soft, sensual make out session or throw you up against the wall? I wouldn’t mind the whole ‘all thing’
Gorgeous canopy bed with satin sheets or fur rug in front of a blazing fire? Canopy bed
Summer or winter? Summer
Tattoos or piercings? Uh uh. Not a fan of either
City girl or country girl? Country girl
Dog person or cat person? Oh my…both. I have a dog and a couple of cats and love them all
Cinderella or Snow White? Cinderella
Las Vegas luxury hotel or quaint Wine Country Inn vacation? Wine Country Inn
Attending her college reunion is just the tonic Chloe Wells needs to bring a little spark to her life, but she never anticipated the pure, unadulterated, panty-drenching lust she experiences when bumping into the man she loved back in the day. Talk about fireworks! Talk about sizzle! She loved him once and he walked away. Her analytical mind says no to taking another chance, but her sex-starved body says yes, yes, yes!
The moment former tennis star Michael “Ace” Banner sees sweet, sexy Chloe again, he’s ready to serve up a weekend of hot sex and wicked seduction. His greatest regret was leaving her all those years ago, but now he’s ready to play for keeps. A rematch? Hell yeah. Winning is within reach—and the trophy is Chloe’s heart.
Her insides fluttered as if a million butterflies had set up residence. Oh yeah. She wasn’t dumb. She totally got that Ace wanted more time with her while both of them were attending the reunion. All those fluttery, bubbly feelings just served as a brutal reminder that her current life was a series of one grueling day after another, with no time for anything that smacked of romance or passion. The notion of hooking up with Ace had her pussy practically twitching with expectation. Her panties dampened and, damn it, she wanted to whimper.
Her life was currently a sexual wasteland, and here stood Ace, looking like a tall drink of water to her poor thirsty self.
Okay, she had to say something. “Sounds like fun. Um, maybe I’ll see you there.”
Ace moved in, caging her against the open trunk of his car. His sexy smile was so hot she almost melted into a puddle at his feet. He stretched one arm high, settling his hand on the open door of the trunk, and wrapped the other arm around her waist to pull her close. Her nipples pearled and tightened the instant they connected with the front of his tee shirt. His belly rubbed hers and she felt his erection press insistently against the juncture of her thighs.
Ace’s gaze settled on her lips and focused. “You can count on it. You know, I don’t think there’s been a day in the past ten years that I haven’t thought of you at least once.”
“Just once?” She’d wanted to joke and lighten the mood but her question just sounded all whispery and faint. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. Dumb.”
“I’ll tell you what’s dumb.” Ace moved his face close enough that she could feel his breath slide warmly across her cheek. “What’s dumb is that I took off the way I did, thinking that somewhere along the way, I’d find home. I went on the pro tennis tour thinking I’d travel the world and maybe somewhere, I’d find my place and someone who gave a shit about me. Talk about dumb. I’d been holding home in my arms for the past four years and never realized it until I looked up one day and you were married to someone else.”
Chloe lost her ability to breathe. Lust and love and a crazy kind of terror caught her up.
His eyes went soft and heavy lidded as he lowered his head and took her lips, softly at first, and then with a hunger she hadn’t experienced in years. His tongue swept along her bottom lip then sank deep into the depths of her mouth for a full tasting, and God help her, she returned his kiss with unexpected fervor that had her practically panting. His hand tightened and she drank in the rough sound he made.
Finally he pulled back. His breathing was sharp and ragged. “There’s not a dumb bone in your body, sweetheart. Matter of fact, right now I believe we’re thinking very much alike.”
Do you, as a reader, prefer contemporary or paranormal? Reasons? Inquiring minds want to know. I will choose a name (at random) from the list of commenters here and the winner will receive a Goodie bag which will include a signed Regina Carlysle print book.
Thank you ladies for letting me come hang out here today. I’m really excited to share my upcoming release in the Fevered Hearts series. While I love every book that I write, this series is particularly close to my heart because it began as an idea for a novella and grew of its own accord into an epic that sweeps me away every time I sit down to write.
In the latest Fevered Hearts novel, the residents of the Flying K Ranch are still reeling from the destruction of Dorado and the challenges just keep coming.
When the spirit fever struck a town, a village or an outpost, it left few if any survivors. The white man blamed the Indian saying they used their mojo on them. The Indians blamed the white man for angering the spirits. The survivors knew it didn’t matter. The Fevered were forever changed.
Rebuilding Dorado is only the first challenge…
Surviving a vicious attack by their enemies and an outbreak of the Fever has left Dorado in ruins and the Flying K under siege, now all their resources are devoted to rebuilding their town and protecting the newborn Fevered in their midst. Buck Morning Star and his siblings divide their time between training their new family members and avoiding the threat of detection the arrival of soldiers constructing a new fort pose, but the spirit walker’s dreams are haunted by Delilah. But when Jason Kane threatens to come between them, Buck’s obsession may drive him to madness.
Her secrets could destroy them all…
Rescued from a whore house in Fort Courage, Delilah Rinaldi never expected to find a sanctuary populated by Fevered and their allies. Silent since her arrival at the ranch, she longs to believe in Buck and the passionate dreams they share. But she keeps dangerous knowledge of the enemy hunting them all close to her heart—information Jason may reveal and cost her the only home and man she loves.
Primitive, primal and provocative, their struggle is intensely personal…
Close contact arouses a soul-stirring passion and love. But it may not be enough to sustain a relationship forbidden by their power and the tempest it can unleash.
His dream. Her words. Their destiny.
Here’s an excerpt from A Fistful of Dreams
Buck slammed the nail home with one strike of the hammer. He moved down the fence board and drove another one home. Anger threaded through his muscles. Throughout the breakfast, Delilah kept her head down.
Or looked at Jason.
He swung the hammer and the nail went right through board and it split in two.
“Hey.” Cody studied him. “What set you off?”
“Nothing.” He grabbed up the broken board pieces and tossed them onto a pile for firewood. The wind blew steadily from the north. His cheeks burned with the cold, but he ignored all of it to stalk over to the wagon and pull a board off. The downed fences wouldn’t repair themselves. He reclaimed the hammer from the wolf and nailed the board into place with two swift blows.
“Uh huh.” Grabbing a few more boards, Cody carried them down the line. “You don’t smell fine.”
“No, I smell like sweat.” Buck followed and set more boards in place. “Why aren’t you working with the kids?”
“Because I scare the young cat.” His lips twitched and he set the stack of boards down and returned for another load. The young feline in question, Benjamin Reynolds was eight years old and his fever turned him into a shifter—a cougar, nearly as large as Cody’s wolf and Cody did more than make the cat nervous—he terrified him.
“So who is looking after him?” They’d not been able to leave the young shifter alone—not without someone strong enough to dominate his predatory instincts.
“Jo.” Cody fetched another hammer and nailed two more boards up in quick succession.
Buck whirled. “Jo? What is she going to do? Put him in a corner and make him write on a board if he decides to rip into one of the others?”
Laughter met the question and irritation stretched his nerves taut. He flexed the fingers of his right hand. The urge to slug his brother stormed through him.
“Go ahead. If it will cool you off, hit me.” The wolf’s yellow eyes gleamed at him, drowning out Cody’s blue. “You’re a sore bear with a thorn in its paw, brother.”
“Violence is never an answer.” Quanto’s words never sounded so hollow. Or maybe it wasn’t the words that were hollow, but Buck himself.
The blow caught him on the side of his face and he fell backwards over the wood. He stared up at Cody’s wry smile. “It doesn’t have to be the answer. It just has to feel good.”
Spitting the blood from his mouth, Buck pushed himself up. “It didn’t feel that good.”
“I dunno. It felt good to me.” Cody grinned.
“Did it?” Rubbing the side of his hand against his lip, he stared at the blood smeared.
“Uh huh. So, if you’re not going to fight—let’s get back to work.” The blond turned and Buck rushed him. The distraction only bought him a few seconds. Cody’s swift reflexes sent him flying. Bouncing to his feet, he landed a jab to the other man’s chin and another glanced off his ear.
“Yes!” Cody laughed and they pounded on each other. Twice Buck landed on his ass in the dirt and twice more he launched at his wolf brother. He couldn’t hurt him, so he didn’t hold back. Swift reactions turned aside blow after blow, but when Cody caught him squarely in the midsection, all the air whooshed out of Buck and he doubled over. “You feel better now?”
Wheezing, he knelt and steadied himself with a hand against the fence post. “A little.”
“Told you.” Cody grabbed the water skin off the wagon and carried over. He tossed it to Buck. The bastard wasn’t even winded, but the wild grin on his face—was what made their scuffle worth it.
“Yes, you did.” He took a long drink. Violence wasn’t the answer, so why had it made him feel better?
“What’s eating at you, brother?” Cody squatted down and began gathering the nails they spilled during the fight.
“Unless you’re feeling extremely compelled to lie to me.” The dry humor held only the whisper of warning. Cody disliked lies. He could smell them. “Is it the Colonel’s story about his bogeyman?”
“Adam MacPherson?” The dreamwalker shook his head. “I need to talk to Quanto about him. If a Fevered has grown so powerful and is really hunting all of us, surely he will know.” He barely listened to the Colonel’s words, particularly when they involved Jason Kane and his so-called investigations.
“Buck?” His wolf brother stopped gathering nails and stared at him. “What’s going on with you?”
“If I said I didn’t want to talk about it, would you leave me alone?” He already knew the answer, but appreciated the moment his brother took to consider the question.
He sighed. Shoving upwards, he grabbed a hammer and a board, intent on going back to work. “I don’t like Jason Kane.”
“I couldn’t tell.” They worked in a silence punctuated by blows to drive in the nails.
“Not what I meant.” Shoulders down, Buck bowed his head. “He shows up with his secrets and she keeps looking at him.”
“Then give her something else to look at.” Cody tossed aside another broken board. “You’ve had your eye on her for months, let her know it.”
“It’s not that simple.” If only it were. Whatever trauma silenced Delilah also hobbled his attempts to get to know her. Only in her dreams did she relax the wary guard she held against the rest of the world. But if Quanto was right—and his father usually was—he couldn’t and shouldn’t enter them again until she was aware of what actions he took.
“Buck, you like her. She likes you. Tell her.” Communication advice from the wolf, if he were less pathetic about the woman he might have laughed.
“I didn’t think you were big on talking.” They fit the last of the boards into place and hammered the nails home. The fence line was repaired. They could move more cattle down closer to the ranch house and the shelters they built against the wind. The ranch had more work than they had bodies to take the tasks. The arrival of the Army troops added to the burden. As soon as they were off the ranch, they could pull the more dangerous children back in along with their brothers and focus on riding out the winter.
“It helps.” The wolf shrugged and his tone softened. “Mariska doesn’t like secrets and she believes in stories, sharing, and she doesn’t do what she is told, but if I explain the why of it—she will listen.” The patience and love shining in Cody’s voice was at both strange and inspirational.
“It’s hard to have a conversation with someone who will not speak.”
“Even harder when the other person is too stubborn to even try.” Cody gathered the broken boards and carried them to the waiting wagon.
Buck followed at a slower pace. “I don’t even know what to say to her.”
“What do you want to say?” He dropped the load of boards and secured them. Buck packed away the tools. This fence was repaired, but there were others to be looked at. The sun rose high in the sky—it neared mid-day. A storm hovered off in the distance, but the steadily blowing wind promised rain before the sun set.
What did he want to say? “I don’t know.”
Cody shook his head. “Do you like her, Buck?”
The quiet question held him rooted to the spot. “Yes.”
“Do you want to be her friend?”
He wanted much more actually. He wanted to go back to working on his house, sanding wood and building while she sat and listened to him work. All those long afternoons where she waited for him to finish, but they didn’t speak. They just were.
A pang of regret echoed in his heart. He missed the quiet time. They had far too little of it since the outbreak. He didn’t even know what she did day after day at the big house—except help Scarlett with the babies. Maybe she needed a break, too. He could invite her riding—or something.
“You have an idea.” Cody clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Excellent. Now maybe we can finish this grunt work before the sun sets.”
Buck shrugged him off and laughed. “We’re done with the fences. We need to go move the cattle.”
“Okay, let me change. They’ll move.” Cody stripped off his shirt and the rest of his clothes, tossing them onto the wagon for Buck to gather. He gave his brother privacy as the man strode away. He never changed in front of the others if he could help it.
Wolf wrangling…hopefully our Army friends are too busy to notice. He stuffed Cody’s clothes into one of the bags and climbed up onto the seat. Gathering up the reins he headed back toward the barn. He needed to swap the wagon for a horse and saddle. If they moved all the cattle down, he could take tomorrow off.
Relief flowed over his too tautly wound nerves. He could see Delilah.
Heather has offered three readers a chance to win from the Fevered Hearts series. Winners may choose from the first three books in the series Marshal of Hel Dorado, Brave Are the Lonely, or Micah & Mrs Miller. Books will be delivered in PDF format.
Today Smutketeers welcomes L.C. Dean and Jet Ryan (Bella Ink’s hero).
Glad to have the two of you here today. L.C. what can you tell us about Bella Ink?
L.C. Jet and Ink’s story speaks for itself. I fully intended their first encounter to be a singular experience but neither of them would let it go, especially Jet, so I had no choice but to follow it up. However, since Jet was the motivator for the whole thing, I’ll let him do most of the talking today.
All right, Jet. Tell us what drew your attention to Ink?
Jet Besides her smart mouth and kick-ass body? It would have to be that she flat out asked if I wanted to fuck the first time I met her.
Really? Wow. So what happened next – or do I even need to ask?
Jet I walked away. I’m not much into screwing strangers. Fortunately, we bumped into each other later and leaving a second time seemed down right stupid. I did slip out come morning because that’s what she claimed to want. It wasn’t what I wanted though, so I kept trying until I got her attention. L.C. talks about that first encounter in Beautiful Ink.
So, L.C. you are aware that Bella Ink and Beautiful Ink mean the same thing, right?
L.C. LOL –Yeah. Beautiful Ink was about Ink the tattoo artist who Jet happened to think was stunning. Bella Ink is about the woman behind the facade – Bella dropped her real name long ago and hid behind her professional handle instead.
Okay, that makes sense. So Jet, why pursue someone who kept shoving you away?
Jet Well, for one, I live in a very small town in Western South Dakota. There aren’t too many women in the dating pool and once Ink came apart at my hand, no one else seemed much worth the bother. ‘Sides that, she needs me even if she can’t admit it most days. I’ve sort made it my business to keep her happy and healthy. If I have to let her run the show once in a while I can do that, but when it’s necessary, I’ll tie her down and show her my way of thinking until she quits fighting and enjoys what we can offer one another. Which extends far beyond the good fuck she asked for.
Nice. Ride ‘em cowboy. Thanks for stopping by you two. I see L.C. has a Rafflecopter below so readers, you are all welcome to get on board. And remember, the entire Sturgis Rally Riders Series is bundled and free April 8-12 so don’t miss the opportunity to get the beginning of Jet and Ink’s story, along with three other short hot escapes, for free.
Jet Ryan’s haunted by the memory of one night in the arms of a sexy tattoo artist who pushed all the right buttons before she shoved him out of her bed. No one else seems to measure up. He needs her out of his system or in his life, preferably the later. But, he’ll settle for one more night with her or a reasonable facsimile as long as he can touch her again.
Ink Monroe avoids expectations that might get her hopes up, doesn’t believe in endless possibilities, and has absolutely no room in her life for a guy who wants to take care of her. But damn, it would be nice to have all those things for a little while. So when a customer gives her a business card for a woman named Madame Eve, she asks for a man to solidify the hazy memory of a single night of passion followed by the best night of sleep she’d had in years.
Both have tall orders for a single evening of passion, but one night can lead to endless possibilities. Madame Eve promised.
She slid back on his thighs with an impish grin, and he had to close his eyes to keep from losing it in his damned jeans.
“You see, Jet….” Her fingers traced the placket of his shirt before she slowly began to unbutton it. “I love to make a man test himself.” She spread his shirt open and slid her palms over his chest, pausing to tug lightly at the sparse patch of hair. “Mmmm, nice. A little something to grab on to while I fuck you silly.”
“Well, you’re in luck because I appreciate a woman willing to fuck me silly. See how compatible we are?” He did not take over like his body demanded. Instead, he lay back and let her play. His zipper almost split when she trailed her fingers up and down his cock. “If you want to ride me, sweetheart, we need to move this party inside where the condoms are.”
Her pretty pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, daring him to take the choice from her.
“I don’t think we need them yet. We’re taking the edge off, right?”
“Only for you.”
“Oh, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it?” She stood on the cushion long enough to step between his thighs and sink to her knees. She had to be cold, goose bumps covered her arms and pebbled her breasts to suckable tips. His mouth watered, but he forced himself to let her run the show for a while.
Graceful hands opened his zipper and pushed his briefs beneath his balls. Her eyes widened and a smile lit her face. “All for me?”
His cock jumped, already so hard it hurt. “Whatever you’re willing to take.”
She ran a short nail up the underside of his dick, slowly circling, and then gripped it firmly and slid the foreskin down. “Is it true an uncut man has more feeling?” Long reddish hair brushed her face as she bent and slid her tongue along his slit and then slowly licked him from tip to root and back again.
He gasped, struggling to keep a rein on things. The possibility of embarrassing himself loomed. Her hand began a measured rhythm up and down while her talented mouth tested his willpower. “I wouldn’t know about circumcised guys, but I feel you just fine.”
“Good.” She looked up through lowered lashes, gaze locked on his face, as she increased her pace. She sucked harder, her fingers teasing his sack.
The need to come pushed forward; he wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer. He gritted his teeth, struggling to hold out—then she stopped. Her hand encircled his balls and tugged downward.
“Fuck!” The expletive shot from him, clarifying her power.
Woohoo! It’s time for book 3 in the Taskill Witches series, THE JEZEBEL, and we finally get to find out all about Maisie Taskill. Maisie has had a very different upbringing to her twin, Jessie. She’s been stolen away from her homeland because of her magical abilities, and when we meet her she’s desperately trying to make her way back to Scotland.
To celebrate the publication of this last book in the series I’m treating one reader to a $20/£15 Amazon gift token. Just leave us a comment on this post to enter. I’ve included a snippet from the book below. If you’ve read THE HARLOT or THE LIBERTINE, let me know what you thought.
Once ignited, a witch’s carnal curiosity knows no bounds
On the run from her powerful benefactor whose unscrupulous interest in her magic has forced her to flee, Margaret Taskill has never needed a hero more. In order to gain passage from England to her homeland in Scotland, she plans to win over a rugged Scottish sea captain with the only currency she has: her virginity.
Maisie submits to Captain Roderick Cameron’s raw sexuality in search of protection, but as their initial attraction grows into obsessive desire, devastating powers are unleashed within her. But the journey threatens to take a dangerous turn, forcing Maisie to keep close the secret truth about what she is, and keep the superstitious crew-unhappy at having a woman on board-at bay.
With Maisie’s wealthy sponsor giving chase, Roderick must stay one step ahead of the British Navy before her seductive magic causes a full-scale mutiny. He may believe he has full command of his ship, but he’s about to get much more than he bargained for.
Anticipation pulled deep within her, for Maisie had been thoroughly prepared for the moment her deepest, most powerful magic would be unleashed through carnal congress. This man would be her lover. The Captain would make her both woman fulfilled and witch empowered.
“Oh yes, I will enjoy mounting you, my lady,” he said, a wicked smile on his face. Looking down at her with heavily lidded eyes, he appeared to her the embodiment of male prowess, sheer animal lust spilling from him as he arrogantly stated his intention.
His comment teased at Maisie, teased as if he was touching her all over, making every part of her tingle with awareness, and deep between her thighs she grew hot and slick. Nevertheless, she was overwhelmed by his basic, arrogant ways, and even while her body responded to his advances, she trembled.
His eyes glinted, and she knew that he’d felt her tremble in his arms.
Maisie swallowed. She did not want to annoy him in any way. It seemed to have the opposite affect. A wry smile lit his expression. He put one hand around the back of her head. Grasping a fistful of her hair, he looped it around his hand and used it to draw her head back. With the other on her waist, he held her tightly against him.
Seduction was his aim, and she wanted that. The nervousness she felt leveled somewhat but did not ebb away entirely.
“Do not look so afeared, Maisie from Scotland,” he said with a chuckle, “I will use you well but I will not break you. You have my word on that.” He sealed the promise with a kiss, his hard mouth on hers relentless.
Instinctively, Maisie put her hands to his chest, arms rigid to push him away. Then his mouth moved and the sensual brush of his lips on hers took the strength from her entire body, melting her. Moments later, she found that instead of pushing him away her hands clutched at his strange cloak and her lips parted under his. So sensual, so arousing. Maisie had never experienced anything like it, and when his tongue touched hers and thrust into the heat of her mouth, her groin flooded with sensation over again, arousal swamping her.
Unbidden, a low moan rose inside her, escaping her as the kiss broke. Instantly she was aware of what her deflowering would bring to her magic, for her spirit flared within.
When he freed her mouth, he still held her with the skein of hair looped in his hand. It didn’t hurt, but the tension and grip was tight enough to show that he meant to master her…
Thank you for hosting me today. I’m excited to discuss bed as a battlefield and my recent release, Rose, Exposed, a multicultural historical erotic romance set in the 1930s.
This post is part of the official Rose, Exposed Blog Tour (3/26 – 4/09).
The GRAND PRIZE for the tour is vintage-style rose earrings for pierced ears! (U.S. shipping address only).To be eligible, COMMENT on this post. Comment should include the historical time period and geographical setting (when and where) you’d most like to see in a romance. **The tour winner will be announced at http://www.aftonlocke.com/RoseExposedTour.html on April 11th.
Bed is a Battlefield (When Independent Women Clash With Alpha Men in the Bedroom)
In good sex scenes, the balance of power between participants is the most important element. By the time the scene ends, something important should have changed. Why is this?
Bed is the most primal battleground there is. Sex is a basic instinct, right up there with eating and sleeping. Remember how tongue-tied and befuddled we were with that first junior high crush? (Although I hate to admit I recently found myself in this embarrassing state when trying to converse with a very attractive male cover model.)
So what happens when one character tries to wield more power than the other? For instance, what happens when an independent heroine slips between the sheets with an alpha hero?
In Rose, Exposed, Leroy is an alpha male who will do anything to convince Rose to marry him, but Rose needs to stretch her wings and be independent. He tries everything to make her submit to his wishes — from following her around to make sure she’s safe to picking her up like a sack of feed. But he quickly discovers his biggest weapon is his ability to make her hot. Passion is such a powerful force it can override everything, including a woman’s need to be independent. She’ll be as submissive as a kitten, at least while she’s in bed.
Sex can also be used as a bargaining tool. When one partner knows the other really wants it, all he has to do is name his price. Leroy managed to win a few skirmishes with this tactic.
As the relationship and conflict progress, however, the sex gets more intense because the stakes go up. Escalation brings higher resistance. If the partners reach a stalemate, sex can be a way to vent frustrations via temporary release and express raw emotions that overflow the usual defense mechanisms. After the last orgasmic tremor, however, the masks go back on and the battle ensues.
The most touching power dynamic during sex, however, is the exchange of gifts. When characters grow to care for each other, despite their conflicts, sometimes they temporarily surrender their power to the other. As Rose struggles with the need for independence and love, she visits the bedroom battleground (among other places) to figure it out.
From Ellora’s Cave Publishing ~ Out March 27th, 2013!
When Leroy Johnson gets promoted at the new oyster plant on Pearl Point, all he cares about is working hard. When he meets the flirtatious artist Rose Wainwright, however, nothing matters except getting her to the altar and into bed. Healing from a recent loss, he’s not about to let her go too.
Because Rose’s strict, social-climbing father doesn’t approve of dark-skinned Leroy, they court in secret anyplace they can find. Although Leroy’s raw passion can convince her to do almost anything, why can’t he understand she needs freedom, not marriage?
Her father wants her to be white, but Leroy wants her to be black. Playing both sides of the fence leaves this young biracial beauty exposed in more ways than one.
“You’re so…dark,” she exclaimed. Instead of the disdain he expected, he heard fascination.
Come on, lady. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a colored man before.
“Yes, I’m dark,” he agreed as he politely removed her hand, “which is why it’s not a good idea for us to sit alone together in this car. Someone might come along and jump to the wrong conclusion.”
A conclusion that could get him beat up or worse with the Klan close by on Oyster Island.
But before he could stop her, she clasped both sides of his face and pressed her sweet mouth to his. Aw, hell. A man only had so much self-control, and she’d just shattered his. Unable to stop himself, he plundered her delicate mouth. Her lips reminded him of rose petals, and he sucked the sweetness out of them as if he were a bee. The more he tasted, the more he wanted.
She opened, giving him access to her even sweeter tongue. His penis strained, hard and now wet, against his undershorts. Hell, even his balls must be twice their normal size. Taking a big breath, he pulled away from her.
“We can’t do this. You’re white.”
She looked down at her upturned palms. “Then I really do look white?”
Leroy frowned. “Aren’t you?”
For the first time, her smile disappeared, making him shiver in his wet clothes. “The truth is, I don’t know what I am. I suppose that’s why I took this foolish drive.”
She must be biracial then, he realized, and not forbidden after all. The thought made him want to dance on the hood of the car. She still looked white, though. If he didn’t have the time to court a girl his own color, he sure didn’t have any for a complicated one like this.
“Kiss me again,” she demanded.
Without waiting for him to answer, she locked her hot, damp mouth on his again and tugged hard on his shoulders. Before he knew it, he was on top of her on the front seat. He wished her dress weren’t so thin when two round breasts pushed against his chest and long, slender legs shifted restlessly under his. Dizzy with the scent of rain and her, he froze.
At that moment, nothing mattered except finding out if her cunt was as sweet and yielding as her mouth. He didn’t care if the entire Klan showed up, knocked on the window and caught him thrusting between her legs on this slippery leather seat. It had been too damn long since he’d had a woman. He needed to stop this while he still could.
“Do you know what you’re asking for?” Lust had turned his voice into a husky croak.
She laughed and touched his face again. “I don’t know. What am I asking for?”
This girl was crazier than he’d first thought. What if someone less honorable than himself had stopped instead? She could’ve been raped.
“A whole lot of trouble.” He sat up. “Look, this is not the time or the place. Now let’s get you home.”
The sooner he could be rid of her—before she derailed him from his job, family, and everything else that mattered—the better.
Books Coming Soon:
Rose, Exposed is the sequel to Plucking the Pearl, an interracial historical erotic romance.