Sue Swift's Blog: Welcome Back, Suzie!, page 13
January 19, 2013
A vampiric Sunday Snog from Suz deMello
http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog
I again thank the wondrous Vicky Blisse for sharing her blog so generously.
Today’s snog is from the bestselling story Angel Laird, Vampire Wife, one of the “Clan Kilburn Vampires” series.
Here’s what it’s about:
Edgar, Laird MacReiver, had never regretted his decision to wed Isobel, daughter of Clan Kilburn’s laird…until she bit his tongue and drank his blood. Will tying her hands, spanking her rump and making her come tame the wild child of the infamous vampire clan?
Or are some women too dangerous to tame?
And here’s the snog:
Edgar’s lips caressed hers and her mind emptied of everything except this new experience. She wanted to remember everything about her first kiss: the strength of his arms, the warmth of his lips followed by the wetness of his tongue as it slid slyly into her mouth.
His flavor was distinctive, a spice like nothing she’d tasted before, a toothsome relish composed of spring water, mint and honey. The scent of the forest mingled with his aroma, a fragrance that melded good male sweat with an underlying freshness that reminded her of the summer sun glittering on the sea.
His hand trailed down her back to curve over her bottom. He squeezed, and the tingling heat of passion spread from his broad warm palm to encompass all of her. A purr rose in her throat. She slid her arms beneath his and held onto his shoulders from behind.
She pulled him in tight, wanting nothing but this kiss to go on and on forever. Life had become so simple. Their mouths touching, their hands exploring, their bodies pressed against each other were everything. Nothing else mattered.
She sucked on his tongue but still wanted more. She nipped and then, tasting a new flavor, licked the tip. Was it his blood? She didna care. He was delicious.
She sucked harder. Yes, that was his blood seeping over her tongue from the tiny bite, and it was intoxicating…he was intoxicating. He groaned and his grip tightened. She became aware that his muscular body had hardened against hers.
That she’d taken his blood had stirred him, she realized with a bolt of pure lust snapping through her. He was aroused by her need and that, in turn, inflamed her. His maleness thrust blindly, seeking her warmth and heat. She pressed herself against him not only with desire but also with a sense of wonderment. She had not known how good he’d feel pressed against her.
His hands shifted, roamed, explored…he took her wrists and drew them down to the small of her back.
He pulled away but she couldn’t reach for him to bring him back. He gripped her shoulders and looked into her eyes with a peculiar intensity. His blond hair swung loose, and she realized what he’d done.
He’d bound her hands behind her back with his leather hair tie.
“What…why did ye do that?” She tried to tug her wrists apart, but he’d tethered them firmly.
Like what you read? Buy it here: http://www/tinyurl.com/angellaird
Your blog hostess:
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres,
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift
She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun
January 17, 2013
Lightning, meet Thunder: Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
San Francisco is a place of pure excess and liberation, where every flavour of sexuality is there for the tasting. Robin wants to be part of it, and by embracing extreme erotic experiences to escape her father’s hypocrisy. Buddy is a rebel, a wild spirit. The moment they meet, sparks fly in a frenzy of desire unbound and darkness unleashed; and when Robin asks Buddy to kill her father, he knows he has found his destiny.
Dark Matter is a hypnotic tale of erotic cravings.
Available from:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dark-matter-michael-perkins/1017242589?ean=9781472105547
*****
Excerpt:
Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
The Spiral Dance
Gods, from your rocky home in the highest snow-capped Sierras of the imagination, swoop down now on San Francisco, the City of Perpetual Indulgence.
Blot out all other sounds from your hearing and attend to the dark passage of one in your indifferent keeping — one touched by you, and like you,possessed….
Yet another turn of the wheel, another rotation of the earth: darkness is cast like a spell. A night without fog.
Straddling her snorting, fire-breathing Harley, Robin Flood roars up the steep undulating streets that slant to the sky and then down them to the Bay. She cuts a loud eructative path through the Marina and rumbles into stern Fort Mason, a former military facility converted into a cultural centre with shops, museums and a famous restaurant.
A bleached full moon leers down at her, one roguish lunar eyebrow cocked; clouds of galaxies extend from it into forever. The dark matter that makes up the unseen universe holds the stars apart. The Gods pay casual attention.
It is the beginning of November, final year of the century, on the night of the Spiral Dance — a Saturday night that falls on Samhain, when the dead pierce the veil that hangs between breathing and not, children who will never die (at least not in the twentieth, accursed century) eat sugar skulls, and a thousand boisterous pagans gather to celebrate the disappeared.
Robin joins the crowd cloaked in the exclusionary circle she draws around herself with strangers. She does not know anyone in the laughing, gesticulating, highspirited gathering of animals with horns, birds of prey, devils of all designs, medieval jongleurs, Green Men, maenads and vampires. Here, New Agers rub shoulders with Dark Agers. Here, imagination expresses the divine with profligate abandon.
Robin regrets momentarily that she has not worn a costume, but her eyes attract more attention than a mask would: they are an unfathomable cerulean, like the sea. Her glance when unguarded can be frightening in what it reveals of the cold wildness inside. Her features are small and finely chiselled, her mouth wide and lush. Her hair is cropped like glossy black feathers. One seashell ear is studded with five expensive earrings, the kind ear-nibblers cut their lips on. She’s prettier than the Queen of Heaven tonight, but there is something indistinct, unformed, indefinable but dangerous about her, as if she might be willing to do anything.
Hidden behind their masks, people stare at her. Aware of the impression she makes, she tucks her ambient rage in a pocket of her black motorcycle jacket and grins like an ingenue on crack. She waits patiently in the line, examining everyone for signs of the roles they might play in the drama of her life. She has a hunger to find out who she is, and she can only learn this from others; she is unknown to herself. Tonight her whim is that she is a temple prostitute come to worship the Goddess, weep for her dead, and party down with the pagans. Her fantasies are usually realised.
The motley line snakes around the pier to Herbst Pavilion, a giant former troop embarkation shed surrounded by choppy Bay waters. The huge space is sombre and magnificent, a maritime cathedral filled with the anxious ghosts of the hundreds of thousands of apprehensive young men who passed through the building on their way to war, and the unhappy spirits of those who never sailed home. It is an appropriate place to celebrate Halloween.
*****
About the Author:
MICHAEL PERKINS is the author of six collections of poetry. The Secret Record, literary criticism, was published by William Morrow in 1976. The Good Parts, selected book reviews, appeared in 1994. Among his other works of fiction and non-fiction are the novels Evil Companions, Dark Matter and Burn. His poems and essays have appeared in The Village Voice, Younger Critics of North America, The Nation,Mother Jones, Paper, Notre Dame Review, Exquisite Corpse, Big Bridge, Talisman, Rain Taxi and American Book Review. He was the Leydig Trust’s Writer of the Year in Great Britain in 2002, the recipient of the 2007 Obelisk Award for Lifetime Achievement and the 1957 Dunbar Poetry Prize. Carpe Diem, New and Selected Poems, appeared in 2011.
*****
Your blog hostess:
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in
Author Sue Swift/Suz deMello
several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift
She tweets her book picks @ReadThis4fun
January 9, 2013
Something Naughty…reading, gifts and more!
I’m the proud participant in a blog hop hosted by erotic romance authors Lisabet Sarai and Jennifer Wright.
FMI http://tinyurl.com/naughty-bloghop, but if you participate by commenting on any one of the blogs listed below, you’re in the running for the following:
**A $60 gift certificate to Eden’s Fantasies, where you can buy many naughty toys 
http://www.edenfantasys.com/
**A $25 gift certificate to any one of the following: Total-E-Bound, Amazon, All About Romance Ebooks, or Barnes and Noble. Two $25 gift certificates will be randomly awarded.
If you comment on my blog, you may get a free ebook–anything in my digital booklist, your choice–that would be Suz deMello’s or Sue Swift’s digital booklists.
Here’s my “something naughty” post. It’s from Temptation in Tartan, best-selling vampire historical erotica:
Blurb:
She had to marry a monster…
Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.
But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.
The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.
She was wrong.
****
Published by Ellora’s Cave in June 2012, Temptation in Tartan reached #1 on the All Romance Ebooks bestseller list for historical (other) romance and spent a full week in the top five. Its sequel, Desire in Tartan, will be released later this year.
Here’s the very naughty excerpt:
She examined him with an intent gaze. “You mean… Milaird was wrong?”
“Aye. I was wrong.”
“The great Kieran Kilborn was wrong?” His wife’s eyes widened. One eyebrow lifted, and she gave him a wide, disbelieving smile edged with mockery.
“Now, Lydia.” On his side, he tucked an arm beneath his head.
“P’raps the sun has risen in the west, or the sheep fly and instead, birds crop the grass. I must check.” She rose from the bed, wincing a little. He watched her bonny pink arse twitch as she pranced over to one of the arrow slits and peered out.
When she returned, she held lengths of the worn linen they used as towels. She again smiled at him.
He distrusted that impish smile, accompanied as it was by twinkling eyes.
“So,” she said. “Kieran was wrong. Kieran’s been a naughty fellow indeed.” She took his arm by the wrist and brought it to the bedpost above his head, and wrapped a strip of linen around both, binding him.
Bold she was, and lust curled deep in his belly. His prick twitched with dawning arousal. “I daresay I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”
“Oh, yes.” She took another linen strip, rolled him onto his back and trussed the other hand high.
Then she walked away from him. What did she have in mind?
She had evidently learned a’plenty during the few weeks they’d been married.
She dipped a third swatch of fabric into a ewer of water, and let the chilly liquid drip onto his chest, then swished it back and forth from nipple to nipple. They tightened into taut little kernels, and his cock jumped, stiff and hard as an oaken club.
Her smile broadened. “I like this,” she said.
So do I, he thought, but made a show of struggling against his bonds. “Lydia—”
She chuckled, and slid the cold, wet linen down his belly to his staff. Despite the temperature, despite his already intense arousal, he thickened and lengthened.
“I wonder…” she said meditatively, scrutinizing his cock. She ran the cloth through her fingers and smiled.
She rubbed him with the wet linen, and despite the chill, he swelled. She tickled his rod so it became even harder, then wrapped his member in the fabric until only the broad, round head was exposed. With each caress of her clever wee hands and each touch of the soft, damp towel, he grew bigger and more aroused until he was about to explode.
Bending over, she gave him a little flick of her tongue and he groaned, his hips jolting
up.
She laughed. “How does that feel?” She kissed his cockhead again, opening her mouth wide to encompass all of his roundness. Lightning flashed through him and he wondered if his trapped flesh was going to burst.
She gave him a little nip and he started violently.
“I asked you a question.” Her voice was cool and even. She nibbled on him again.
He jerked up, hoping to force his rod further into her mouth and p’raps get some relief, but she was too quick for him, and the wicked bond holding his cock kept him on the boundary between pleasure and pain. He couldna come until she chose to release him.
He was hers to control, utterly. “Lydia, please…”
“Please, what?”
“Please! I’m afeared this will do me harm.”
“Really? As much as a beating?”
“Are ye angry with me?”
“Nay, husband, but what’s sauce for the goose…” She left the remainder of the quote unsaid.
“What would ye have me say or do?”
She ran her hand over his ballocks and they contracted. He was frantic to shoot his load, and writhed on the sheets.
“You’re mine, do you hear?” She tugged on his cock.
“That was never in question!”
“You’re my slave as much as I am yours. Admit it!”
He tossed his body from side to side. “Yes! Yea!” He sensed the justice of her actions and didna want to fight her. And he’d give up one of his balls to come.
“Very well, then.” She tugged away the binding and then pinched the base of his rod, hard.
A blast of pure pain shot through him and he clamped down on his frustrated shout. She climbed atop him to rub her slick cunny over his cock, and he was instantly ready again. He twitched with need, pushing his rod upward toward her slit.
Kneeling, she lifted up then dropped down, her magnificent breasts bobbing. His cockhead lodged inside her, and he groaned with need and relief. She liked what she was doing, he reckoned, because the walls of her quim were fluttering and clenching. Tight, hot and wet…She eased down onto him and he thought mayhap he’d died and gone to heaven.
He shouted, “Rach air muin!” and came in thick jets, coating her channel. He lifted his hips and thrust until he hit the barrier of her womb.
She took all he had, bearing down on him so her pearl slid against him, taking her pleasure as he took his. She flung her head back as she came, riding him like a stallion, gripping his shoulders for support. The little stabs of her fingernails drove him higher, and he swiveled his hips, swirling his cock inside her. With a gasp, she collapsed over his chest. Her splendid breasts caressed his nipples, shooting him into ecstasy one more time.
Minutes later, she stirred, then reached up and released his wrists. He grabbed her in a tight embrace, locking her to him without restraint, taking her mouth in a deep kiss. Their tongues tangled, warred, played … eased into gentler loving.
They lay side by side, regarding each other, startled, sated and pleased. He looked into the warm chocolate depths of her eyes, seeking and finding her soul. His gaze rested within hers for a long while. Gradually, her breaths and his slowed, evened and matched.
Like what you read? Buy it here:
http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html
Remember, if you leave a comment, you might just get it for free, or win another of the gifts.
Your blog hostess:
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift
She tweets her book picks @ReadThis4fun
PARTICIPATING AUTHORS in this blog hop…remember, each comment on any blog increases your chances to win!
Adriana Kraft
Adriana Kraft
Alisha Paige/Ruby Vines
Addicted to Genre Bending
Ann Cory
Ann Cory
Cassandra Carr
Hot Blogging with Heart
Cherie Noel
Great Expectations
Diane Thorne
Diane Thorne – Erotic Romance Author
Donna George Storey
Sex, Food, and Writing
Donna Michaels
Romaginative Fiction-Donna’s Dish
Elise VanCise
Gladiator’s Pen
Harlie Williams
Harlie Williams, Writer
Helena Harker
Open the Door to Your Fantasies
Jennifer
Wright
Jennifer
Wright’s Blog
Justus Roux
Where Love and Erotic Know No Boundaries
Kayelle Allen
Unstoppable Heroes
Kelli
Scott
Lip
Service
Kendall McKenna
Love and Dog Tags
Lisabet Sarai
Beyond Romance
Lisa Carlisle
Lisa Carlisle’s News
Lyndi Lamont
Lyndi’s Love Notes
M. S. Spencer
M. S. Spencer Tale Spinner
Marie
Sexton
Marie
Sexton
May Water
May Water’s Erotica
Michelle Moon
Ink Dipped Moon
Mona Karel
Mona Karel
Blog
Naomi Bellina
Naomi Bellina Adventurous Erotic Romance
Nicole Morgan
Bringing Passion To Life
Rose Anderson
Calliopes Writing Tablet
Roz Lee
Roz Lee
S. Dora
S. Dora
Sapphire Phelan
Sapphire Phelan’s Passion Corner
Stormie Kent
Stormie Kent’s Musings
Suz deMello
Fearless, Fast-paced Fiction
Synithia Williams
Synithia Williams
Victoria Pinder
Victoria Pinder Romance Author
Virginia Nelson
Virginia Nelson, Author
December 31, 2012
Dance Me to the End of Time by Catherine Cavendish
I ran this beautiful story by Cat Cavendish one year ago, and present it for your bittersweet pleasure again.
Dance Me To The End Of Time
by
Catherine Cavendish
I’ve always loved Christmas. The tree, tinsel and a roaring fire… Candles flickering and the sound of carollers striving to hit the top register in “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.”
This year’s no different. Of course, there’s no roaring fire anymore. That’s been replaced with one of those living flame gas affairs. Quite nice, but you never could beat the real thing.
“Penny for them.” My husband, Charles, interrupts my reverie.
Cat Cavendish
“Oh, nothing. I was just musing and remembering Christmases past.” I smile at him.
He adjusts his tie and smoothes his glossy black hair, all gestures I have seen him perform countless times. “Do you think it will snow this year?” he asks, studying his reflection in the mirror.
I turn to look out of the window. “It’s too dark to tell, but it looks damp out there. It must have been raining earlier.”
“I didn’t notice,” Charles says, “but then I suppose I wouldn’t, would I?” He smiles at me and takes my hand, brushing it against his lips. Then I catch him examining my dress.
“Something wrong?” I ask and instinctively look down at my white, floor-length gown. I see some creases in the silk which I attempt to smooth away.
“That’s better. It was just a little wrinkled.”
“Hardly surprising,” I say. “It only gets an outing once a year.”
We laugh, and Charles strokes away a long, dark brown lock of hair which has escaped my elaborate coiffure and has wandered across my cheek.
“Shall we dance, Emily?” he asks.
“Certainly, Charles, it will be my pleasure.”
We waltz to a phantom orchestra. In my head I can hear the strains of the Blue Danube, and I am transported back to another time and place. I can see a young girl and her young man, their eyes locked in an embrace as they swirl around a ballroom in Vienna while a conductor, violin in hand, steers the orchestra through his latest composition.
“I miss the scent of roasting chestnuts,” I tell Charles.
His mouth widens in a grin. “But can’t you smell them, Emily? Concentrate really hard.”
I close my eyes and let him lead me round and round as the music grows louder, and now I can smell them. Chestnuts, little fried potatoes and the warming aroma of cinnamon from the Glühwein. I can hear the bells of St Stephen’s Cathedral and feel the chill of the night air on my cheek. Little flecks of snow are falling onto my face, and my feet crunch on the icy ground.
Charles is waltzing me faster and faster. And now I can hear the voices. The orchestra has faded and a choir is singing in German: “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht…”
“Oh Charles–”
“No, Emily, don’t open your eyes.”
I obey. “Don’t let it stop, Charles, please don’t let it stop,” I cry, “Not this time. Not this year.”
“Dance with me, Emily. Dance with me.”
The choir has faded, and the orchestra builds to a crescendo. I know if I open my eyes, I will see the wild black hair of the conductor, falling over his eyes as his violin bow slashes through the air.
But I mustn’t open my eyes. Charles told me not to.
“Oh Emily, Emily,” Charles says, “Let us never lose this moment. Never.”
“Never, Charles.”
And then I open my eyes.
“No, Emily, no!” Charles’ agonized face is before me. But the moment has passed.
The orchestra is silent. There are no roasting chestnuts, no carol singers, no hot spiced wine.
Vienna has gone.
“Oh Emily, you did it again. Just like last year. Just like every year.”
I am crestfallen. He takes my face in his hands. He kisses my lips, and I close my eyes again, trying to recapture the dream. But it’s too late.
“Never mind, my love, there’s always next year.”
“As long as we’re still here,” I say, my old fears returning.
“I expect we will be. They seem to like us well enough.”
From the hallway, I hear the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock. It’s time.
“Come, my love. We must return.” Charles once again takes my hand and together we gaze at the empty picture above the mantelpiece.
“Until next year and the magic returns,” he whispers.
“Until next year. Happy Christmas, Charles.”
“Happy Christmas, Emily.”
The door opens and a young couple wanders in, each holding a glass of red wine. They are both dressed smartly, she in a navy suit, he in dark grey. She has short blond hair, and his is dark. They look very modern to me.
The woman’s gaze is drawn to the painting. “I’ve always loved that picture.” She sighs, raising her glass to her lips and taking a sip.
“That’s why I bought it for you,” the man says and nuzzles her neck.
“Dance Me to the End of Time,” she murmurs. “Such an evocative title. And it really looks as if that’s what they’re doing, doesn’t it? You feel they could just step out of that frame and glide around the room.”
Her husband laughs. “You and your imagination.”
The woman moves toward the fireplace and is peering closer. “There it is again. The damnedest thing!”
“What?” he asks.
“I noticed it last year, but only on Christmas Eve, and it’s happened again this year. Look at her eyes.”
The man does as he is bid.
“Can you see it? There at the corner of her eye. A tear. It looks as if it’s just about to spill down her cheek, but I bet you it won’t be there in the morning.”
The man laughs. “You’re imagining it. Too much wine at dinner.”
“Say what you like. I know what I saw.” She steps back.
She’s right, of course. It’s the tear I cannot cry every Christmas when the magic ends.
And we are frozen here in time and space.
Catherine Cavendish writes Paranormal Fiction. Her Paranormal/Horror novella, ‘Cold Revenge’ is out now, published by Etopia Press and is available from:
You can find out more about Catherine on her website: www.CatherineCavendish.com
Or by following her on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/CatherineCavendish
Goodreads www.goodreads.com as Catherine Cavendish
Twitter http://twitter.com/#!/cat_cavendish
Your blog hostess:
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift
She tweets her book picks @ReadThis4fun
December 27, 2012
New Years Fascination
Dance into 2013 with DJs Dark Star and Blix spinning the best of the New Wave 80s, Goth, and Indie Electro!
Plus, peruse and perchance purchase the art prints and pendants of
Master Nick!
I'm gonna dance, dance dance with night away! Best kind of New Year's Eve!
December 22, 2012
A Scottish Snog: from Temptation in Tartan by Suz deMello
http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog
Today’s snog is from my #1 bestseller (according to ARE at least—their historical-other list).
Temptation in Tartan is about a young English lady who found herself in a bit of a mess:
She had to marry a monster…
Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.
available at http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html
But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.
The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.
She was wrong.
Lydia and Kieran, Laird Kilborn, do end up enjoying their HEA but it was a rough road.
Here’s their kiss. Did I mention that it’s not on the mouth?
“Ye look right funny with yer mouth open like that.”
She shut it with a snap.
“Ye know what a man likes to do with a lassie’s open mouth, don’t ye?”
“Kiss it?”
“Nay.”
“Um, put his tongue into it?”
He stood, unlaced his trews and took out his cock, running his fingers along its already nerve-wracking size. He smoothed away a fleshy covering to reveal a thick, rigid pole.
She gaped.
“Exactly so, me wife. Shall we try this?”
His voice was soft and supplicating. Reassured, she managed a nod. Her gaze remained fixed on his thickening member as he pulled off boots and stockings, shirt and trews.
Her gaze flashed up to his chest, muscular, white-skinned and furred with black curls, then back to his cock, and down. His legs were as hard and brawny as the rest of him, with the shapely calves she remembered from the first time they’d met.
His member again seized her attention. She was fascinated by his tool, framed as it was by a thick bed of black hair. “I, er, I’ve never known anyone who could divest himself of his clothes so quickly.”
“Ye’re a lass of limited experience, but ye’ll not hear me complain.”
Reaching for her ankles, he tugged them down, then arranged a pillow beneath her head, elevating it for…what?
“Ye seem right curious about my friend, here.” He fondled his rigid length, its vivid color a contrast with the pale skin that covered the rest of his muscular body.
“Er, yes.”
“Explore all ye wish, me bonny wife. He’s yours to use as ye will.” Kieran climbed back onto the bed, kneeling with one knee on either side of her torso. He smiled down at her.
She reached with a hesitant finger and touched the tip. Firm, round and red. She stroked, and from beneath the surface smoothness a hard core jutted into her hand.
“Oh!” She jerked her fingers away.
He replaced them. “He often does seem to have a mind of his own, but I try to think with the one in me head.” He gave her his impish grin.
She smiled back and gave him a hesitant squeeze.
Sucking in a breath, he closed his eyes. Encouraged, she squeezed more firmly and then ran her fingertips up and down, watching and listening as well as feeling. A musky aroma mingled with Kieran’s usual fresh scent and her roses. She leaned forward to sniff his privates and inhaled deeply, her nose nuzzling his cods.
His cock, swaying, bumped against her cheek and she used her lips and tongue to move it away. Another indrawn breath from her husband, this one louder. Interesting. She turned her head to one side and again put her mouth to his shaft.
“Yesssss….”
Aha. She slid her lips up and down his length, eliciting a groan. She hoped it was a happy groan, and looked up to see Kieran’s eyes closed with an ecstatic expression on his face.
If you like what you read, and are interested in more, here’s a buy link:
http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
Here’s where you can find all my erotica:
https://www.amazon.com/author/suzdemello
And here’s a little bit about me:
Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she’s working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.
Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.
December 21, 2012
Christmas in China
Those of you who know me are aware that I spent most of 2009-10 in Luoyang, China, teaching English to toddlers. This experience wasn’t one I’d repeat despite the enormous amount of new info I acquired.
Christmas in China
Among that new info was the knowledge that China is very far from being a “godless Communist” society. I’d describe China as very capitalistic and quite religious as well. Every Buddhist temple I visited was busy. There was at least one church in the city where I lived, and Christmas was openly celebrated, albeit in a very secular way.
In China, Santa is very popular. He looks rather like my
Evan as Santa
former literary agent (hello, Evan!) or a sex offender (those big red lips freak me out). Christmas decorations are everywhere,
Scary Russian Santa!
stores conduct Christmas sales and people throw parties.
But Christmas isn’t a day off or a family day. I taught at two schools, and each had a Christmas pageant starring you-know-who as Santa. As you can see, not my best look.
Sue as Santa
But we did get snow a few weeks before, which made a
Ally with snowman
pretty city even lovelier. And there were snowmen!
If you want to know more about my experiences in China, check out this blog:
http://www.susanoverseas.weebly.com.
Enjoy!
Your blog hostess:
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift
She tweets her book picks @ReadThis4fun
December 20, 2012
Check out Master Nick’s blog: Flesh-Hungry Fiction for Ravenous Readers
Flesh-Hungry Fiction for Ravenous Readers.
There’s a shout-out from my friend Master Nick for me. Thanks, Nick!
December 18, 2012
December 17, 2012
A belated Monday munch: Engaged to the Sheik
I wrote this yesterday then completely forgot to post it until after 3 p.m….oops!
But… If you’ve been following this blog or my Facebook feed, you know that I’m really into food. I love to cook and eat, and in my books, the hero often prepares a meal for the heroine—I consider that a very loving act.
available in digital
Engaged to the Sheik is part of a miniseries put out by the now-defunct Silhouette Romance line, but it continues to sell as an e-book. It’s a romance between a sheik and a virgin—a virgin who’s no innocent child. Selina Carrington, the tough-skinned, witty survivor of an attempted rape, finds herself in a phony engagement and accidental marriage to Sheik Kamar ibn-Asad, his nation’s ambassador to the United States. Dancing between attraction and fear, love and loss, this mismatched pair finds true love beneath the starry sky of Florida’s lush Gulf Coast.
Find the ebook here: http://tinyurl.com/d4tfhg5
Persuading Selina to accept him as a real husband has Kam rushing to the kitchen to prove to her that he’s worthy. For dinner he barbecues her lamb and serves it with tabouleh salad.
Even an indifferent gardener can grow most of the ingredients of this classic middle eastern summer salad.
Ingredients:
1C bulghur or cracked wheat
3 C hot water or bouillon
2 large ripe tomatoes, cut into half-inch dice
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded, and cut into half-inch cubes
half a small onion, very finely diced. Use a sweet variety like a Maui, Vidalia, or Walla Walla. You may substitute 2 or 3 green onions or several stalks of chives.
half-C coarsely chopped or snipped fresh parsley leaves
half-C coarsely chopped or snipped fresh mint leaves
quarter-C good olive oil
the juice of a lemon
salt and pepper to taste
In a large bowl, soak the bulghur wheat in the water or bouillon for 2 hours. Drain thoroughly in a fine wire-mesh sieve or colander. Put the wheat into a mixing bowl and add everything else. Toss, then chill. Serves four generously as a side dish.
Enjoy!
Your blog hostess:
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift
She tweets her book picks @ReadThis4fun
Welcome Back, Suzie!
In any event--today I'm bloggi ...more
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