Janine Ashbless's Blog, page 62
February 21, 2016
February 19, 2016
My swinging lifestyle
Here I am on a high rope course, trying to look all cool and effortless and everything because my seven-year-old niece is scrambling about saying "This is easy peasy."
Damn kids.
February 17, 2016
I may have bluebells
This week saw the very first signs of spring growth in my wood:
Dog's Mercury - poisonous, but an indicator species for ancient woodland
And OMG ... that looks like bluebells!
Do I have a bluebell wood? I'm so excited to find out!
Dog's Mercury - poisonous, but an indicator species for ancient woodlandAnd OMG ... that looks like bluebells!
Do I have a bluebell wood? I'm so excited to find out!
February 15, 2016
Blue Monday
Every Monday I post a naughty excerpt for your entertainment!
Today, a sneak preview from Falling Deep, which has is currently scheduled for release on 2nd March!
Trainee sorceress Liz is meeting up with Evan, the fifth of the Twelve Months she has to pleasure in order to turn the Wheel of the Year.
"Put your hands on the saddle."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Biting the inside of her lip, Liz turned her back and placed her hands on the horse's saddle. They looked pale and tiny on the dark leather.
"You see," said Evan, coming in so close behind her that she could feel the radiant warmth of his body, "there are just some things that cannot be learned from books, or lists, or even from those who know. Obedience, for one. Hold this."
The riding crop, that implement of promise and pain, appeared in front of her eyes as he presented it horizontally. For a moment Liz had no idea what he meant, but understanding came swiftly as it nudged her lips. She caught the fresh scent of her own sex on the leather, then she opened her mouth and accepted the bar, gripping it between her teeth like a bit.
She realized at once that he had robbed her of words.
"Obedience, and surrender, and the natural order of things." With both hands now free, it was easy for Evan to lift her skirts and explore beneath. One big hot hand cupped her ass-cheek firmly to steady her. The other slipped down and between, into the unshielded cleft and the plump soft folds beneath.
It turned out that the blush had run all the way through her and was now seeping into the slit of her pussy. Evan made a small approving noise as he discovered her wetness.
"You won't find them in a hundred thousand books, little librarian. You won't find them on the city streets, you can't learn them on your Internet, you won't pick them up in college. Things like that are in the blood, and the earth. The deep and the dirt of life." His fingertips swept her fore and aft, spreading the moisture to slick every inch. "Do you understand?"
Gagged as she was, Liz couldn't possibly reply - but as his finger circled her clit a squeak did escape from her open throat. That only encouraged him to do it again. And again. His big, callused fingertip felt deliciously, deliriously alien down there and she shuddered, jerking her thighs a few inches further apart. He rewarded her candor by slipping his spare hand between her bum-cheeks, pushing hard with side of his hand against the pucker of her rear hole. The pressure felt almost comforting.
"Maybe you do." His voice was low, somewhere between a growl and a caress, his breath hot in her ear. "What you need if you are to be an Argante is not to be found in your head. It's down here, where you're dumbest - and wisest. Feel how wet you are?"
Liz groaned out loud. She squeezed her eyes shut, water leaking from the corners. She knew her ass was out-thrust now to grant him easier access, but she couldn't help it. Her pussy was begging for more.
"Oh yes. So wet." He chuckled, deep and filthy. "Your body knows, doesn't it? Your body knows how you need to get dirty." On that last word he pressed his thumb against her anus, just as his fingertip swept over the sensitive round of her clit. It was too much - or just enough - because orgasm sparked and tumbled and flared through Liz's flesh, catching her off-guard, making her keen out loud and jerk repeatedly and push back on the hard jut of his thumb, as if to impale herself on it.
"Filthy girl," he murmured, but it wasn't criticism.
"Ahh," she groaned around the riding crop gag.
But to her chagrin he wasn't done with her. His fingers were already slipping back in to bathe themselves in her sex juices, actually entering her this time. She felt him slide two thick fingers inside her and scissor them open them to test the give of her flesh. She made a small noise of protest and danced her hips away from his invasive touch.
Without hesitation he clapped a hand hard to her ass-cheek. "Stand still!"
Instinct froze her, obedient to his command. She felt his big hand squeeze her bum and heft her up on the tips of her toes.
"Legs open," he told her, settling her down again. "That's better. Good girl."
Hands were on and in her sex again. Firm and sure and most definitely not asking. Rubbing her clit and spreading her lips and trespassing into the cleft of her ass, pressing up against the tight pucker of her rear hole in a manner she at first took for accidental over-enthusiasm, and then realized - with a shock - was entirely deliberate. And very purposeful. His finger, lubed with her own juices, was boldly going where no man had gone before.
Liz would have said something, but the crop in her mouth rendered her speechless - all she could do was utter a high yelping moan.
"The mysteries are not in your head, book-girl. They are down here."
Dear god - he was going in. Milimeter by teasing, probing millimeter. She could feel everything. She'd had no idea how much she could feel back there. It was far more sensitive than her sexual entrance, in fact - and far more frightening. She'd had things pushed into her vagina before - cocks, tampons, that cold plastic speculum at the doctor's - but she'd never had anything inserted in her asshole. It was just too private.
But it wasn't painful, it turned out. Not at all. Quite the opposite.
"Magic is not learned. It is not about control. It is about yielding to the powers. It is about knowing your place in the great workings of the world."
Liz shuddered. This felt terrifyingly intimate, an invasion of her most secret places. He had a finger right inside her tight clench now, stirring her, stroking her. She was awash with shame. She could feel her sweat and her juices slathering his hands. Her clit sang at his touch. Hot shivery plumes of sensation ran up her spine and across her shoulders, down her legs to the tips of her toes.
"It is all about surrender. Yes. There, that's right."
To her amazement her ass was unfurling, no longer resisting his entry. He could run a finger in and out smoothly, each stroke a caress that sent her nerve endings into tumbling fountains of delight and terror.
"Doesn't that feel good? Isn't that good when you stop fighting me?"
She groaned her acquiescence.
"Good girl. That's nice." His voice was almost a sigh. "That's one finger, nice and easy." He circled it, spreading her, while his other hand played with her clit. "You can take two, you know. No problem at all."
Liz widened her eyes, though he could not see, and yelped softly.
"You don't believe me?"
Her groans were coming thick and fast now. There was no point in preserving any dignity, after all. His strokes were unhurried and very sure. He was not rushing her - he didn't have to. Her treacherous body was already opening up to him, lulled by his masterful working of her clit. For all the fear and the shame in her head, her body trusted him. It wasn't even attempting to resist any more. Tight whorls of muscle grew slack. She could feel a hum of pleasure in her spine.
"You should. I think you have a talent for this, book-girl. You're getting more welcoming by the second. You're opening up inside, you know …." There was momentary adjustment of his hand, an increase in pressure. "There. That's two. I think you'll find that more satisfying."
"Oh!" said Liz, muffled, then nodded frantically. He was curling them inside her now, stroking her inner walls.
"You like a good ass-frigging, don't you. You like it dirty."
I don't! she thought - but her body begged to differ. There were sensations washing up and down her backbone that she was barely familiar with - if they'd been centered on her pussy she'd have known them for the precursors of orgasm, but they were in the wrong place, up her ass - How can you have an orgasm up your ass-?
"Come on, book-girl. That's right. Come for me."
Today, a sneak preview from Falling Deep, which has is currently scheduled for release on 2nd March!
Trainee sorceress Liz is meeting up with Evan, the fifth of the Twelve Months she has to pleasure in order to turn the Wheel of the Year.
"Put your hands on the saddle."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Biting the inside of her lip, Liz turned her back and placed her hands on the horse's saddle. They looked pale and tiny on the dark leather.
"You see," said Evan, coming in so close behind her that she could feel the radiant warmth of his body, "there are just some things that cannot be learned from books, or lists, or even from those who know. Obedience, for one. Hold this."
The riding crop, that implement of promise and pain, appeared in front of her eyes as he presented it horizontally. For a moment Liz had no idea what he meant, but understanding came swiftly as it nudged her lips. She caught the fresh scent of her own sex on the leather, then she opened her mouth and accepted the bar, gripping it between her teeth like a bit.
She realized at once that he had robbed her of words.
"Obedience, and surrender, and the natural order of things." With both hands now free, it was easy for Evan to lift her skirts and explore beneath. One big hot hand cupped her ass-cheek firmly to steady her. The other slipped down and between, into the unshielded cleft and the plump soft folds beneath.
It turned out that the blush had run all the way through her and was now seeping into the slit of her pussy. Evan made a small approving noise as he discovered her wetness.
"You won't find them in a hundred thousand books, little librarian. You won't find them on the city streets, you can't learn them on your Internet, you won't pick them up in college. Things like that are in the blood, and the earth. The deep and the dirt of life." His fingertips swept her fore and aft, spreading the moisture to slick every inch. "Do you understand?"
Gagged as she was, Liz couldn't possibly reply - but as his finger circled her clit a squeak did escape from her open throat. That only encouraged him to do it again. And again. His big, callused fingertip felt deliciously, deliriously alien down there and she shuddered, jerking her thighs a few inches further apart. He rewarded her candor by slipping his spare hand between her bum-cheeks, pushing hard with side of his hand against the pucker of her rear hole. The pressure felt almost comforting.
"Maybe you do." His voice was low, somewhere between a growl and a caress, his breath hot in her ear. "What you need if you are to be an Argante is not to be found in your head. It's down here, where you're dumbest - and wisest. Feel how wet you are?"
Liz groaned out loud. She squeezed her eyes shut, water leaking from the corners. She knew her ass was out-thrust now to grant him easier access, but she couldn't help it. Her pussy was begging for more.
"Oh yes. So wet." He chuckled, deep and filthy. "Your body knows, doesn't it? Your body knows how you need to get dirty." On that last word he pressed his thumb against her anus, just as his fingertip swept over the sensitive round of her clit. It was too much - or just enough - because orgasm sparked and tumbled and flared through Liz's flesh, catching her off-guard, making her keen out loud and jerk repeatedly and push back on the hard jut of his thumb, as if to impale herself on it.
"Filthy girl," he murmured, but it wasn't criticism.
"Ahh," she groaned around the riding crop gag.
But to her chagrin he wasn't done with her. His fingers were already slipping back in to bathe themselves in her sex juices, actually entering her this time. She felt him slide two thick fingers inside her and scissor them open them to test the give of her flesh. She made a small noise of protest and danced her hips away from his invasive touch.
Without hesitation he clapped a hand hard to her ass-cheek. "Stand still!"
Instinct froze her, obedient to his command. She felt his big hand squeeze her bum and heft her up on the tips of her toes.
"Legs open," he told her, settling her down again. "That's better. Good girl."
Hands were on and in her sex again. Firm and sure and most definitely not asking. Rubbing her clit and spreading her lips and trespassing into the cleft of her ass, pressing up against the tight pucker of her rear hole in a manner she at first took for accidental over-enthusiasm, and then realized - with a shock - was entirely deliberate. And very purposeful. His finger, lubed with her own juices, was boldly going where no man had gone before.
Liz would have said something, but the crop in her mouth rendered her speechless - all she could do was utter a high yelping moan.
"The mysteries are not in your head, book-girl. They are down here."
Dear god - he was going in. Milimeter by teasing, probing millimeter. She could feel everything. She'd had no idea how much she could feel back there. It was far more sensitive than her sexual entrance, in fact - and far more frightening. She'd had things pushed into her vagina before - cocks, tampons, that cold plastic speculum at the doctor's - but she'd never had anything inserted in her asshole. It was just too private.
But it wasn't painful, it turned out. Not at all. Quite the opposite.
"Magic is not learned. It is not about control. It is about yielding to the powers. It is about knowing your place in the great workings of the world."
Liz shuddered. This felt terrifyingly intimate, an invasion of her most secret places. He had a finger right inside her tight clench now, stirring her, stroking her. She was awash with shame. She could feel her sweat and her juices slathering his hands. Her clit sang at his touch. Hot shivery plumes of sensation ran up her spine and across her shoulders, down her legs to the tips of her toes.
"It is all about surrender. Yes. There, that's right."
To her amazement her ass was unfurling, no longer resisting his entry. He could run a finger in and out smoothly, each stroke a caress that sent her nerve endings into tumbling fountains of delight and terror.
"Doesn't that feel good? Isn't that good when you stop fighting me?"
She groaned her acquiescence.
"Good girl. That's nice." His voice was almost a sigh. "That's one finger, nice and easy." He circled it, spreading her, while his other hand played with her clit. "You can take two, you know. No problem at all."
Liz widened her eyes, though he could not see, and yelped softly.
"You don't believe me?"
Her groans were coming thick and fast now. There was no point in preserving any dignity, after all. His strokes were unhurried and very sure. He was not rushing her - he didn't have to. Her treacherous body was already opening up to him, lulled by his masterful working of her clit. For all the fear and the shame in her head, her body trusted him. It wasn't even attempting to resist any more. Tight whorls of muscle grew slack. She could feel a hum of pleasure in her spine.
"You should. I think you have a talent for this, book-girl. You're getting more welcoming by the second. You're opening up inside, you know …." There was momentary adjustment of his hand, an increase in pressure. "There. That's two. I think you'll find that more satisfying."
"Oh!" said Liz, muffled, then nodded frantically. He was curling them inside her now, stroking her inner walls.
"You like a good ass-frigging, don't you. You like it dirty."
I don't! she thought - but her body begged to differ. There were sensations washing up and down her backbone that she was barely familiar with - if they'd been centered on her pussy she'd have known them for the precursors of orgasm, but they were in the wrong place, up her ass - How can you have an orgasm up your ass-?
"Come on, book-girl. That's right. Come for me."
February 14, 2016
Happy Valentine's Day!
May you have many spider kisses ;-)
February 12, 2016
XXX-man
Deadpool breaks new ground for the X-Men franchise.
For a start, this has to be the first ever Marvel movie where the hero enjoys
1) being pegged
2) a nice wank with a toy unicorn
3) an obsession with IKEA furniture
It's a whole new world for superheroes...
February 10, 2016
Satan is the white guy
Phwoar warning! The Archangel Michael has just walked into my WIP,
The Valleys of the Earth
. And he looks a lot like this:
Actor
I introduced Uriel in Cover Him with Darkness and he looks like this in human form:
Raphael was also briefly glimpsed, because he was the one who took Azazel down, and I decided there was no reason whatsoever for him to look Caucasian - so I modeled him on the long-haired historical heroes of the Chinese cinema industry I grew up with. Because hair.
Actor
Michael, the warrior-angel, obviously watches over the West. Gabriel hasn't shown up yet, but he'll look African when he does.
And if you've read CHWD, you'll know that Uriel is also Satan.
Heh.
Actor 
I introduced Uriel in Cover Him with Darkness and he looks like this in human form:
Raphael was also briefly glimpsed, because he was the one who took Azazel down, and I decided there was no reason whatsoever for him to look Caucasian - so I modeled him on the long-haired historical heroes of the Chinese cinema industry I grew up with. Because hair.
Actor Michael, the warrior-angel, obviously watches over the West. Gabriel hasn't shown up yet, but he'll look African when he does.
And if you've read CHWD, you'll know that Uriel is also Satan.
Heh.
February 8, 2016
Blue Monday: L. Marie Adeline guests
Every Monday I post a naughty excerpt for your entertainment!
Today's guest is L. Marie Adeline, whose short story Matilda's Secret appears in Best Women's Erotica 1 (edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel)
Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 delivers risky, romantic, heart-pounding thrills. Joyful, daring, and authentic, these steamy stories revel in erotic adventure, from the sparks between strangers to the knowing caresses of longtime lovers. These stories are not merely erotic but filled with strong characters and clever narratives showing how sexual experience is different for everyone. This anthology is a glorious celebration of the finest and friskiest female erotic fiction today.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Jesse asked. “Up ahead, there’s a motel. This rain is as bad as I’ve ever remembered it. I say we stop for the night.”
When we pulled in, the parking lot was crowded with similar-minded people, all of whom, we discovered, had beat us to the vending machines, drinking all the soda pop, eating all the chips.
“The vultures got here first,” Jesse said, slapping the machine, exaggerating his Cajun accent. He was funny, this cute hitchhiker. And now my funny man was sitting next to me on the bed, gently lifting one of my hands to his mouth to suck a finger.
“You are beautiful, Matilda May,” he said, his tongue swirling around my finger. “I know you’re thinking otherwise. But you’re wrong as the rain tonight.”
“I feel…beautiful. I do. But, Jesse, I—”
“Matilda, I’m telling you, men don’t see age the way you think we do.”
He knew me already, knew what I was thinking.
“What do you see then, when you look at me?”
I braced for the answer as he brought his mouth to my ear.
“I see heat. I see…lushness. Is that a word? Lushness.”
I nodded as he reached around behind my head and tugged the elastic holding my long red hair in a messy ponytail. It fell around my shoulders in a cascade of curls. Maybe I was too old to hold onto my tresses, but I was proud of the fact that I didn’t have a lot of grey hairs to cover. I was a natural redhead, all over.
“Good. That’s better. Where was I? I see a woman. A grown woman who I want to fuck, who I want to make scream. I see a strong woman who knows what she wants and can get it, but who only wants me.”
His words were making me wetter than I’d been in years. He began to walk a hand under me, his fingers firmly stroking under my thighs, nudging, asking for permission to enter. His hazel eyes seemed glazed, the scar on his upper lip deeper in the shadowy room.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked, touching his lip.
“I told you I was mean.”
We locked eyes and I let my knee drop open. He curled a finger under my panty elastic, found my slit and played with the outside of my pussy, coaxing out more wetness from between my lips with the back of his thick knuckle. He began to slowly finger fuck me.
“You’re wet,” he whispered. “You’re teenager wet.”
“You make me that way.”
“You make me this way,” he said, placing my hand under his towel. I could feel his erection, stiff and insistent.
“Oh God.”
With that, his kiss was on me, firm and insistent, pressing me back down on the bed. I let my hands drift up to his hair. He stopped kissing me as his other hand tugged the sweatshirt up over my breasts, over my head, leaving my arms bound up in the shirt. His mouth found a tense nipple, and he took it between his lips. His warm tongue traced circles around each one as I arched into him.
“Look at you all tussled on this fucked up bed.”
His mouth made a heated trail down my stomach, and when he closed in on my throbbing clit, he paused. I gazed down to watch him dip the tip of his hot tongue, barely touching my tight little knot, relishing the way his teasing made me squirm.
“Do you want me to make you come?”
I nodded, my knees going completely slack, my arms useless over my head. He slid a finger inside me while his wet, muscly mouth swirled around my fat clit in achingly perfect circles, stopping every once in a while to suck and nibble on my tender thighs before engulfing my pussy hungrily. The build was excruciating; he took me close to the sweet edge of orgasm only to pull back, ever fucking me with two fierce fingers. Finally, mercy, as he covered my clit with his whole, hot mouth, his perfect, talented tongue gently slashing and circling, carrying me higher and higher, closer and closer…
“Oh god, Jesse, don’t stop…” I hissed, my hips bucking into his face. “Yes…make me come, baby…do it…”
My wild surrender made him moan with victory. He pressed my thighs wide open, his tongue now a hot, crazed motor. I don’t know if my body came or he just detonated something in me; I had the kind of orgasm that exploded from my center out, the sound coming from my throat animal and desperate. I flung my arms down, both still twisted together in the sweatshirt. I placed my hands on the back of his damp head as his tongue lapped and pulsed, bringing me to earth, the crescendo waning, my whole body just washed ashore in a pool of sweet bliss.
“Jesse, you wrecked me,” I murmured to the stained ceiling, my eyes shut. Before I could crane up to gaze at his glistening mouth, he expertly, quickly, flipped me over onto my stomach. Then he buckled my hips back into his groin, his hand pressing down on my back, pushing me into the bed. I could feel his erection prodding my lips, soaked and ready for him.
“I’m not done with you,” he said, his voice choked with desire.
Best Women's Erotica Volume 1 at Amazon US :: Amazon UK
L. Marie Adeline is a pseudonym for the bestselling author Lisa Gabriele. S.E.C.R.E.T., her first novel in this erotica series, was a #1 international bestseller. For more information on the S.E.C.R.E.T. series, visit www.secretnovels.com and www.facebook.com/lmarieadeline
For more information on books by Lisa Gabriele go to www.lisagabriele.com
Today's guest is L. Marie Adeline, whose short story Matilda's Secret appears in Best Women's Erotica 1 (edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel)
Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 delivers risky, romantic, heart-pounding thrills. Joyful, daring, and authentic, these steamy stories revel in erotic adventure, from the sparks between strangers to the knowing caresses of longtime lovers. These stories are not merely erotic but filled with strong characters and clever narratives showing how sexual experience is different for everyone. This anthology is a glorious celebration of the finest and friskiest female erotic fiction today.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Jesse asked. “Up ahead, there’s a motel. This rain is as bad as I’ve ever remembered it. I say we stop for the night.”
When we pulled in, the parking lot was crowded with similar-minded people, all of whom, we discovered, had beat us to the vending machines, drinking all the soda pop, eating all the chips.
“The vultures got here first,” Jesse said, slapping the machine, exaggerating his Cajun accent. He was funny, this cute hitchhiker. And now my funny man was sitting next to me on the bed, gently lifting one of my hands to his mouth to suck a finger.
“You are beautiful, Matilda May,” he said, his tongue swirling around my finger. “I know you’re thinking otherwise. But you’re wrong as the rain tonight.”
“I feel…beautiful. I do. But, Jesse, I—”
“Matilda, I’m telling you, men don’t see age the way you think we do.”
He knew me already, knew what I was thinking.
“What do you see then, when you look at me?”
I braced for the answer as he brought his mouth to my ear.
“I see heat. I see…lushness. Is that a word? Lushness.”
I nodded as he reached around behind my head and tugged the elastic holding my long red hair in a messy ponytail. It fell around my shoulders in a cascade of curls. Maybe I was too old to hold onto my tresses, but I was proud of the fact that I didn’t have a lot of grey hairs to cover. I was a natural redhead, all over.
“Good. That’s better. Where was I? I see a woman. A grown woman who I want to fuck, who I want to make scream. I see a strong woman who knows what she wants and can get it, but who only wants me.”
His words were making me wetter than I’d been in years. He began to walk a hand under me, his fingers firmly stroking under my thighs, nudging, asking for permission to enter. His hazel eyes seemed glazed, the scar on his upper lip deeper in the shadowy room.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked, touching his lip.
“I told you I was mean.”
We locked eyes and I let my knee drop open. He curled a finger under my panty elastic, found my slit and played with the outside of my pussy, coaxing out more wetness from between my lips with the back of his thick knuckle. He began to slowly finger fuck me.
“You’re wet,” he whispered. “You’re teenager wet.”
“You make me that way.”
“You make me this way,” he said, placing my hand under his towel. I could feel his erection, stiff and insistent.
“Oh God.”
With that, his kiss was on me, firm and insistent, pressing me back down on the bed. I let my hands drift up to his hair. He stopped kissing me as his other hand tugged the sweatshirt up over my breasts, over my head, leaving my arms bound up in the shirt. His mouth found a tense nipple, and he took it between his lips. His warm tongue traced circles around each one as I arched into him.
“Look at you all tussled on this fucked up bed.”
His mouth made a heated trail down my stomach, and when he closed in on my throbbing clit, he paused. I gazed down to watch him dip the tip of his hot tongue, barely touching my tight little knot, relishing the way his teasing made me squirm.
“Do you want me to make you come?”
I nodded, my knees going completely slack, my arms useless over my head. He slid a finger inside me while his wet, muscly mouth swirled around my fat clit in achingly perfect circles, stopping every once in a while to suck and nibble on my tender thighs before engulfing my pussy hungrily. The build was excruciating; he took me close to the sweet edge of orgasm only to pull back, ever fucking me with two fierce fingers. Finally, mercy, as he covered my clit with his whole, hot mouth, his perfect, talented tongue gently slashing and circling, carrying me higher and higher, closer and closer…
“Oh god, Jesse, don’t stop…” I hissed, my hips bucking into his face. “Yes…make me come, baby…do it…”
My wild surrender made him moan with victory. He pressed my thighs wide open, his tongue now a hot, crazed motor. I don’t know if my body came or he just detonated something in me; I had the kind of orgasm that exploded from my center out, the sound coming from my throat animal and desperate. I flung my arms down, both still twisted together in the sweatshirt. I placed my hands on the back of his damp head as his tongue lapped and pulsed, bringing me to earth, the crescendo waning, my whole body just washed ashore in a pool of sweet bliss.
“Jesse, you wrecked me,” I murmured to the stained ceiling, my eyes shut. Before I could crane up to gaze at his glistening mouth, he expertly, quickly, flipped me over onto my stomach. Then he buckled my hips back into his groin, his hand pressing down on my back, pushing me into the bed. I could feel his erection prodding my lips, soaked and ready for him.
“I’m not done with you,” he said, his voice choked with desire.
Best Women's Erotica Volume 1 at Amazon US :: Amazon UK
L. Marie Adeline is a pseudonym for the bestselling author Lisa Gabriele. S.E.C.R.E.T., her first novel in this erotica series, was a #1 international bestseller. For more information on the S.E.C.R.E.T. series, visit www.secretnovels.com and www.facebook.com/lmarieadelineFor more information on books by Lisa Gabriele go to www.lisagabriele.com
February 7, 2016
The Watchers secret backstory revealed!!!
;-)Seriously, at some point in The Book of the Watchers I'm going to have to tackle a number of Big Questions.
1) WTF was God thinking of?
2) WTF is God doing right now?
3) WTF is God going to do about all these fallen angels escaping?
Don't let anyone tell you Erotic Romance is an easy genre to write...
February 5, 2016
Falling Deep cover reveal!
Well, this is the cover for Falling Deep, book 2 in the Lovers' Wheel quartet. I think Kelly at EC has done a terrific job with the autumnal woodland look and the quartered-circle motif, echoing Summer Seduction nicely.
The red-headed bloke on the cover represents the mysterious Guy on the Train, and in this volume we find out who he really is...
I'm very happy with this one! :-)
