Sue Swift's Blog: Welcome Back, Suzie!, page 16
September 27, 2012
Another erotic antho to love: “Smut in the City”
Smut in the City, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse
Sultry, smouldering sex in the city is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.
Smut in the City
From the stifling heat of the London Underground to the crumbling walls of Rome’s Colosseum, Smut in the City has it all. Whatever your interpretation of sultry urban sex, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Lusty couples, horny office workers, hunky bakers and gardeners, tourists and the Mafia are portrayed for your titillation in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.
eBook:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-smutinthecity-932965-144.html
Print:
Excerpt:
Within the Crumbling Walls
By Lucy Felthouse
Exiting the Colosseo Metro station, Libby shot a grin at her boyfriend, Ciaran. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding it, do you?”
“Hmm?” Ciaran frowned, then turned his gaze in the direction that Libby was pointing. He gave a sheepish smile. “No, I don’t think we will. Shall we put the map away?”
Libby nodded, and Ciaran spun round so she should take the map and load it into his backpack. Zipping it back up, she patted it twice to signal she was done. Ciaran turned and held out his hand. She took it, and together they took their lives in their hands crossing the busy Roman road and walked to the Colosseum.
Despite the early hour, the queue was already considerable, and the couple exchanged a wry look. But then Libby remembered something. “Hey, don’t look so glum babe. We can skip the queue, remember?”
Ciaran frowned. “We can?”
Pulling a small credit card shaped and sized item from her pocket, she replied, “Yes! Our Roma cards mean we can get in quicker. That was one of the selling points the rep kept going on about when she was trying to flog them to us.”
Ciaran slapped his forehead theatrically, then retrieved his own card from his pocket. “Of course!” He used his not inconsiderable height to peer over the heads of the group in front of him. “Okay, I see it. There’s a separate line for Roma Pass holders, and it’s moving tons quicker. Hurrah!”
He made his way through the crowd, using a combination of touches on people’s backs and the words “excuse me.” Libby followed quickly in his wake. Soon they were at the back of the very short and swiftly-moving queue. People passed through, showing their cards to a very stern-looking Italian man, who nodded and pointed them towards another line.
This time they scanned their cards through some kind of barcode reader, and finally, they were in. Within the crumbling walls of the ancient Colosseum, probably the most famous landmark in Rome. Looking around, Libby could see why.
Photos and videos didn’t do it justice. She wasn’t sure if Colosseum translated to colossal or not, but it was certainly the most apt word to describe the place. It really was huge—and they hadn’t even seen the best part yet. Following Ciaran from the ticket booth area—which was literally within the great walls—they passed out into the open area in the middle. Libby gasped. It was amazing.
They were at ground level, with two or three levels above—she wasn’t sure which—and of course, the one below. Where the gladiators, warriors and fierce creatures would have been kept before being forced to fight in the arena.
Realising Ciaran was gaping at the sight before them too, she encouraged him forward. “Come on, we’re kind of in the way here.” Looking left, she saw an area which was fenced off and held warning signs urging the public not to enter. Libby snorted. The whole place was falling to pieces, how could they possibly deem one section more dangerous than another?
Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the right and saw an area which would allow them a better view of the arena floor. She grabbed Ciaran’s hand and pulled him with her.
Leaning on a barrier and looking out, Libby saw that arena “floor” was not an accurate description. At one end of the enormous structure, a wooden base had been erected, but the rest of the oval was open, displaying what lay beneath. It looked like a labyrinth, and suddenly she became aware of an English-speaking tour guide telling his group the history of the place. She eavesdropped for a while, then fell to thinking how lucky she was to have been born in this day and age. She’d never know anyone who’d be thrown to their deaths in such a place—or be forced to watch them killed in such a brutal manner.
*****
Lucy Felthouse: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk
Victoria Blisse: http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk
*****
Your blog hostess: Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels,
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
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.
https://www.amazon.com/author/sueswift
https://www.amazon.com/author/suzdemello
September 25, 2012
Enjoy “Smut by the Sea” antho edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse
Smut by the Sea, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse
Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.
From the sun soaked bays of Australia to the rainy coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Surfer boys, sea creatures, pirates and the fairground abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.
eBook:
Smut by the Sea
erotica antho
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-smutbythesea-907767-144.html
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/smut-by-the-sea-lucy-felthouse/1112630518?ean=9781782341796
Print:
Excerpt:
Dodging
By Lucy Felthouse
The thrum of anticipation had been rushing through my body ever since we’d set off that morning. By the time we passed the sign welcoming us to Hunstanton and made our way into the long stay car park, I was almost delirious with excitement. The worst part was, I had to hide it from my friends. As far as Sophia and Chloe were concerned, we’d just come for a nice, fun, girly day out at the seaside. They had no idea about my ulterior motive. And I didn’t intend to tell them. Until afterwards, maybe. I didn’t want to risk them ruining my master plan, or trying to talk me out of it.
So far, it seemed like everything was on our side. The traffic had been light, we’d got a parking space with no trouble, and the sun was shining. It was a perfect day, and I had every intention of putting a cherry on top of all that perfection. A very sexy cherry.
Sophia parked the car, then hopped out to go and get a parking ticket. Chloe and I got out too, stretching our limbs after being cooped up in the car for a couple of hours.
“So,” I said, tilting my head back to catch the rays of the sun on my face, “what’s the plan then?”
“I dunno,” Chloe replied. “I’ve never been here before, you have. What do you suggest?”
“Well, there’s the beach, obviously. There are amusement arcades, mini-golf, the Sealife Centre, a few shops, the old village…”
I deliberately didn’t mention the funfair. That was my destination, and I wanted to go alone.
Sophia rejoined us and put the ticket in the windscreen of the car. “Got everything, girls?”
Chloe and I nodded, and she checked for valuables before locking the doors. “So, do we know what we’re doing yet? I guess we’ll be led by you, Abigail, since you’ve been here before. Did you say you’d visited with your parents, or something?”
I moved away from the car and started to walk down towards the seafront, though purposely leading the girls in the opposite direction to the funfair. They followed without question.
I nodded. “Yeah. We used to come here all the time for family holidays when I was younger, but now we mostly come on day trips. We last came a month or so ago. I was just telling Chloe what there is to do. There’s the beach, amusement arcades, mini-golf, the Sealife Centre, a few shops, the old village…”
“Ooh,” Sophia said, doing a little jump, “I love mini-golf! Do you fancy a game of that before it gets too hot, then we’ll go from there?”
Chloe nodded her agreement, and I said, “I’ll take you there, ladies, but I can’t play.”
“Why the hell not?” Sophia asked. “It doesn’t matter if you’re crap. I’m crap at it too, it’s just a laugh.”
“No, it’s got nothing to do with being crap, Soph. I have a bad back and swinging a club around and doing all that bending is just going to make it worse.”
It was a blatant lie of course. There wasn’t a thing wrong with my back, and I was actually a little gutted not to be having a go on the best mini-golf course I’d ever played on, but missing out was a necessary evil if I was to go through with my devious plan. If it came off, then the result would be a great deal more fun than a round of mini-golf, anyway.
*****
Lucy Felthouse: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk
Victoria Blisse: http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk
*****
Your blog hostess: 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
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
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.
https://www.amazon.com/author/sueswift
https://www.amazon.com/author/suzdemello
September 10, 2012
Learn “Saxonhurst Secrets” with the wonderful Justine Elyot!
I was fortunate to edit Justine while I worked at Total-E-Bound as a freelance editor. Her work is sexy and hot and well-written and altogether fab. I highly recommend anything Justine writes!
Here’s the blurb for her latest, Saxonhurst Secrets:
Saxonhurst Secrets by Justine Elyot
On the surface, Saxonhurst is like every other sleepy English village in the Vale of Parham.
But what explanations are there for its unfailingly bountiful harvests, its amazingly successful cricket team, its bizarre and bacchanalian May Day rituals?
New vicar Adam Flint is bent on finding out why Saxonhurst has the nickname ‘most godless village in England’. With the help and hindrance of village siren Evie and the strange and remote Lady of the Manor, Julia, he uncovers closets full of skeletons. And not just skeletons – flesh and blood bodies rich in temptations as well…
Will the secrets of Saxonhurst be Adam’s ruin?
Saxonhurst Secrets is published by Xcite Books and is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, Barnes & Noble, Xcite Books and all other good retailers.
September 6, 2012
Get Too Close for Comfort with Adriana Kraft
ABOUT SWINGING GAMES, THE SERIES: Are you curious about the swing lifestyle? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to participate in a threesome or more-some? How about a little voyeurism? In our Swinging Games series at Extasy Books you can experience the thrill of anticipation, the anxious moments of that first lifestyle encounter, the heat of three, four and more-way erotic adventures, house parties, swing clubs and more, through the eyes of our hero and heroine, Brett and Jennifer Andrews. Here’s how they got their start:
What’s a girl to do? Happily married with all her children grown, Jennifer Andrews has finally figured out she’s bi-sexual – but just turning on to hot f/f fiction and videos isn’t enough. She wants the real thing, and she wants to share it with Brett. Addition sounds so much better than subtraction. Will the swing lifestyle be the answer they’re seeking? They’re determined to find out.
Too Close for Comfort
BLURB: Too Close for Comfort
It all seemed so simple: Sarah Creston would move in for the summer, Brett and Jen Andrews could revel in their new threesome, and everyone else would understand. But now Donna and Ryan – their best friends and lovers – won’t speak to them, and Jen seems so infatuated with Sarah that even Brett is worried about the consequences.
Battered from the double whammy of her husband’s death and caring for her aging parents, Sarah Creston thrills to Jen and Brett’s exquisite care and ravishing sex. Now that she’s had her first taste of a woman, will she be satisfied – or will she want more? Everything hinges on what Sarah wants.
AVAILABLE FROM
http://www.extasybooks.com/too-close-for-comfort/
http://www.amazon.com/Close-Comfort-Swinging-Games-ebook/dp/B008IVMFVK
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-toocloseforcomfort-910778-146.html
http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b134448/Too-Close-for-Comfort/Adriana-Kraft/?si=0
REVIEW Read what author and reviewer Destiny Blaine had to say at Romance Reviews by Authors: http://romancereviewsbyauthors.blogspot.com/2012/08/book-review-too-close-for-comfort-by.html
With a gift for writing remarkable dialogue, Adriana Kraft used her characters to show how swingers are able to manage the lifestyle, hold a marriage together, and pursue other relationship interests while remaining true to their lifelong commitments. The scenes between multiple lovers weren’t forced or unnatural. In fact they were beautifully relayed in a fashion which draws the reader into the heart of these characters’ most intimate moments.
EXCERPT
“I don’t want you hurt, Jen.” Brett crossed his legs and uncrossed them. “Hell, I don’t like seeing our friends hurt, either.”
“I know. I know. But you’ll support me.”
“Of course, I will. But Sarah is her own person in all of this. She may not fit into our lives at all over time. We might just be a stepping stone on her journey.”
Jen tensed, certain Brett could see the blood draining from her cheeks.
“She may become too possessive.” Brett twisted his mouth in thought. “Or maybe she’ll be more like us than you realize.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe she’ll be as intrigued and fulfilled with swinging as we are.”
“Do you really think she’ll swing on her own?”
“She found us, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but…”
“Maybe she’ll swing with us. Maybe she’ll swing on her own. Maybe this taste of swinging with us will satisfy her curiosity by the end of summer and she’ll be ready to go find a guy and live happily ever after.”
“But you don’t believe that?”
“Who knows? Given how I saw her respond to her first taste of a woman, it’s hard to imagine she’ll give up women completely.
Jen wet her lips. “She was wonderful. I’m just so pleased I was her first.”
“I know you are. All I’m saying is I’ll be surprised if you’re Sarah’s only woman.”
Jen crossed her arms under her breasts. “I know that.” Her voice cracked. “No matter what you think or Donna or Ryan…” Jen felt her pulse quicken. “I’m not wanting to keep Sarah for myself. But she needs time.”
“Okay.” Brett exhaled softly. “Time is what you have. But I’m not sure Sarah’s timetable and Donna and Ryan’s timetable are going to necessarily match yours.”
ABOUT ADRIANA KRAFT
Adriana Kraft is the pen name under which my husband and I co-write erotic romance. I don’t know if that makes us hot, but it sure heats up our lives, and we love passing on the spice and the heat to our readers. Our tag line is Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More, so you can probably guess ménage is our favorite genre to write. Romance Junkies says our work is “filled with warmth, blazing hot sex, well-developed characters…not for the faint of heart.” We hope you’ll stop by and check us out!
ADRIANA KRAFT ON THE WEB:
Website: http://www.adrianakraft.com/
Blog: http://www.adrianakraft.com/blog
FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/people/Adriana-Kraft/100001944980679
FaceBook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Adriana-Kraft/182846025133440
Twitter http://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft
GoodReads http://www.goodreads.com/author/list/1578571.Adriana_Kraft
Midnight Seductions http://midnightseductionsauthors.blogspot.com/
Sapphic Planet: http://www.sapphicplanet.com
August 25, 2012
Yet Another Sunday Snog: from my hockey romance, PUCKHEADS
http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog
Thanks again to Victoria Blisse for this marvelous promo opportunity.
This kiss comes from Puckheads, a romantic suspense tale set in the fast-paced world of pro ice hockey.
How far would you go to win your lifelong dream?
When Zoë Whipple agrees to make a documentary about a hockey team’s season, she doesn’t sign on for scandal, crime and murder. But she discovers that players, rabid to win the championship, don’t let morality or the law stand in the way of their ambitions.
When a rookie dies from cardiac arrest, Zoë is saddened but not suspicious until another player, in the grip of ’roid rage, goes berserk on the ice and ends up in the hospital. Digging into the mess reveals illegal painkillers and steroid abuse among most of the team. Zoë, whose reputation for honest filmmaking is at stake, threatens to expose the scandals.
Is her new lover, team captain “Crash” Crasseau, responsible for the harassment and vandalism meant to scare her into silence? When Crasseau’s ex-wife is murdered, and Zoë’s daughter is threatened, Zoë must choose between her career ambitions and her child’s safety.
And here’s the snog:
As Zoe left the room, the first person she saw was Daniel Crasseau. Just her luck. She again wondered how she was going to manage Crasseau and his Cro-Magnon possessiveness. He didn’t seem to get the message that she wasn’t going to play his idiotic games. How many times had he hit his head on the boards? Enough to scramble the brains inside, she bet.
He leaned against the wall and regarded her with a broody stare. His eyes were the same chilly color as compressed glacial ice, which didn’t help her composure. His dark blond hair, still damp from a post-game shower, brushed the collar of a navy polo shirt. He’d belted his jeans with a strip of leather that seemed clumsily hand-tooled. Aside from his stature, he looked like any other man might. So why did Crasseau get to her?
“Zoë Whipple,” he said in his deep, rough voice.
Her nipples tightened, scratching against her lace top. She didn’t like it or him, but she finally admitted to herself what bothered her about Crash.
He was damn sexy and knew it. How was she going to deal with him?
She resented his effect on her. As a filmmaker, she regularly dealt with the rich and famous. She knew Robert Redford, for heaven’s sake. She’d flown in Harrison Ford’s plane, but her stomach had never done somersaults.
“Whipple. What a suggestive, seductive name.”
She raised a brow. “If this is your idea of sweet talk, hockey groupies are way too easy.”
Smiling, he drew closer. She caught a whiff of his cologne, a compelling, spicy scent. Then he asked, “Do you like whips, Zoë Whipple?”
Though jolted, she shot him a cool smile. “You’ll never know.”
“Oh, I think I will.”
She sucked in a breath, aware of the tiny hairs up and down her back bristling at Crasseau’s staggering arrogance. “I’m convinced you don’t get enough, Crasseau, and I’m not the answer to your, uh, little problem.” She pointedly glanced at his pants.
He reared back, putting distance between them. “I’m getting plenty, and I don’t have a little problem.”
Ha. She’d nailed him where he was weak, in his male ego. “Really?” She hoped she sounded derisive.
“Yeah, really.” He imitated her contemptuous tone.
“So why are you flirting with me? I’m old enough to be your mother.”
Those ice blue eyes again surveyed her. He smiled. “I very much doubt that. I think we are of an age, you and I, and have more in common than you may know.”
“I’m pushing forty, studboy.”
He shrugged. “Big deal. In five years, I will be also.” He sipped his whiskey and eyed her over the rim of his glass.
That meant he was, what, thirty-four? Thirty-five? Not old, but in this sport, a senior. She tried not to appear deflated, but so many hockey players were kids that she’d overlooked that Crash was a man, and a very sexy one at that.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and then to her breasts. His scent tickled her nose while his sexual aura filled her senses. How did he do that? she wondered. Was it his reputation? Would the fact he was so obviously thinking about sex make him seductive, make her think about bed?
Puckheads from Ellora’s Cave
Zoë took another deep breath, resolving that she was not going to get involved with a man as clearly troubled as Daniel Crasseau. Any kind of intimacy with him would insult her husband’s memory. She was going to get rid of Crash, fast and forever.
She said, “What if you’re looking for something else?”
“What?”
“You get laid plenty, or so you say.” She wondered what imp had taken over her tongue. When she talked with Crash, she often said the darnedest things. She’d certainly never used so many rude, crude terms.
But Crasseau was rude and crude, and, determined to scare him off, she figured she’d fight fire with fire. “So if you don’t want sex, what is it that you want?”
He shrugged. “What could that be?”
“What if you want to open your head and heart, and sharing your body just isn’t enough?” Zoë knew that men hated to talk about feelings. There was a thousand-percent chance that Crash would turn tail and scram.
He stared at her, looking as though she’d bitch-slapped him. “I don’t want that kind of commitment.”
“Then go hit on someone else. You don’t need me, and I don’t need you to mess up my life. You come over here and flirt—”
“I hardly said anything.” Raising his hands defensively, Crasseau backed off.
“You don’t have to say anything. You flirt with your eyes, your smile, your entire body. You come in here, pure testosterone, giving off pheromones like…like the sun gives off light and heat, and you’re saying now—” She stopped, hearing a door open behind her and footsteps advance. Lauren. Damn.
He ignored the interruption. “So you are interested.”
“I have children, Crasseau,” she hissed. “I’m supposed to be setting an example.”
Her daughter slid an arm around Zoë’s waist and said, “Hi, Mom. Why don’t you introduce me?”
He smiled and extended a hand. “Daniel Crasseau.”
Grinning, Lauren shook Crash’s hand. “Lauren Whipple.”
“May I date your mother?”
“You can try. Good luck.” With a wink, she slipped past them on her way downstairs, passing another partier.
“So you’re a tough one, eh?” His eyes gleamed. “That’s all right. I like a challenge.”
Zoë folded her arms across her torso, deciding she’d deal with Lauren later. “I’m not a challenge, I’m a person.”
“Even better.”
“Right,” she sneered. “The kind of female you want is right over there.” She nodded toward the staircase, where a blonde woman now leaned against the rail, displaying her body. She wore a damp halter top, inflated breasts, thick makeup and an avid expression.
Crasseau’s gaze passed over her with total indifference. “I’m done with hockey hos and puckbunnies.” He waved a hand dismissively, and the blonde woman went back downstairs, calling Thor’s name. Crash continued. “They’re boring. Why shouldn’t I be interested in you?”
“You’re not. I don’t do one-nighters.”
“If we’re good together, there could be more.”
“Be still my heart.” She placed a hand on her chest.
As though magnetized, Crasseau’s glance followed her hand to her breasts. She again crossed her arms over herself and narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned back.
He looked infuriatingly sexy.
He looked as though he could deliver on every seductive promise.
He looked like a six-foot-four-inch problem.
How was she going to get rid of him? She said, “Crasseau, listen to me. I’m a widow. My husband died two years ago. I’m not getting involved with you or anyone.”
His eyes went blank as glass, concealing his thoughts. “I am sorry for your loss.” His voice was precise, polite, as if he were reading lines he’d memorized from Miss Manners.
Hmm, she thought. There’s something going on here.
He took her hand and kissed the back of it. She hated to admit that the gesture, though corny, felt good. What was wrong with her?
“I could make you forget the past.” His voice had gone dark and husky.
“Forget my husband? I don’t want to forget him.”
“I could make you forget the pain.” He brushed his knuckles over her collarbone, leaving a trail of sensual longing in his wake.
She shivered.
Not a cold shiver. A shiver of need, of passion.
As quickly as her desire had arisen, she squelched the feeling. The humiliation of becoming another notch on Crasseau’s hockey stick was one factor. And there was Zoë herself. Paul had been the love of her life. Why should she settle for anything less than the joy she’d known?
Crasseau was nothing but trouble. She didn’t need or want him. Did she?
While she’d ruminated, he’d eased closer. Though he’d cornered her at the end of the hallway, she didn’t feel trapped. Her heart banged against her ribs. But she wasn’t scared. She was excited.
He ran seductive fingertips up and down her bare arm. The tiny hairs lifted, tickling her, raising a tremor of response he must have seen.
One more bedroom smile and that’s where she’d be headed. To his bedroom.
He bent his head close to hers. “I could do it too. I could make you forget.”
He was too close and too right, damn him. “I’m…I’m cold. I want to get my jacket.”
“Funny, you look pretty damn hot to me.”
Her mouth dropped open. Hot? She was hot? Since when?
“Nice blush.” He winked at her. “You look good in red. Come with me. I’ll warm you up.”
That one had been old when Zoë was sixteen. “Warm me up? Are you kidding?”
“Ah, you’re smiling. That’s a good sign.” He covered her mouth with his.
He tasted her as though she were fine wine, sipping at her mouth rather than ravaging it. Every gentle touch of his surprisingly tender lips quivered through her body.
No one had kissed her mouth since Paul died. The shock of it made her limp, and the pleasure, a pleasure she’d forgotten, made her reel and sway, pliant in his arms.
Then there were his hands. Big, rough hockey player’s hands that had scored hundreds of goals, fought through a thousand scrums. Hands that now stroked Zoë with the delicacy of a kitten’s paws, sliding up and down her back, then palming her bottom. He pressed her hips against his with those big, firm hands.
He wasn’t lying about his desire. In instinctive response, her need whispered through every cell, as though something quiescent had awakened.
His distinctive scent filled her nostrils. What was it?
“What was what?” he asked.
Damn. She must have spoken aloud, murmuring against his mouth. No way to hide…
“Your cologne,” she said.
“I’m not wearing any.”
Double damn. That meant she found his natural scent attractive. “That’s not good.”
“Of course it is,” he said, understanding perfectly. He nibbled on her earlobe before trailing gentle kisses along the side of her throat toward her breasts.
Despite how good he felt, how good he smelled, she wasn’t ready for this, or him. A good, sharp shove forced him all the way to the opposite wall of the hallway.
“Do not,” she snarled, “do not, under any circumstances, push me into a corner like that. I am not here to wax your stick every time you think it needs polishing.”
“Maybe not, but you want me.”
“So what?” She jammed past him, planning to leave.
But a delightful, tingling warmth had spread throughout her limbs. She recognized the unfamiliar feeling. Pleasure.
A man, not her husband, had flattered her, kissed her, desired her, and she’d found it pleasurable.
She wasn’t sure she wanted that.
Zoë glanced back at Crash, who followed her. His eyes held an intensity, a desperate hunger she didn’t understand.
She couldn’t trust someone she didn’t understand.
Author bio: Suz deMello:
Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
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.
August 12, 2012
**Sunday Snog: For My Master**
http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog
This couple is more into BDSM games than kissing, but Kathie and Ross do kiss 
For My Master is about agent Kathie Belmont, who has long lusted after her boss, Ross Guerrero, but never plucked up the nerve to even flirt with him. Ross wants Kathie in his life–on her knees, but the constraints of their jobs with the super-secret US Security Agency keep them apart.
Now, a sadistic drug trafficker has been tempted into a deal with Ross’ undercover persona–a deal that will go down at a BDSM party. With Kathie disguised as his sex slave, Ross plans to bring down the criminal gang and perhaps to tempt Kathie into performing her role for him…forever.
And now for the kiss…
The address Ross provided was a charming Craftsman style home in La Jolla, just a few blocks from the beach. Kathie parked her Toyota and grabbed her bag, stuffed with spike-heeled pumps and boots along with toiletries and make-up, everything from glittery eye-shadow to softer blushers.
What would happen today? The situation heightened all her sensations. She’d gone commando, as guys called it, skipping underwear, and the sea breeze teasing her naked pussy aroused her. Even the skirt of her yellow sundress swirling around her thighs turned her on.
Her heeled sandals clattered as she walked up a slate path to wood double doors with insets of etched glass. She sucked in a breath. Was this Ross’s home? Likely, since his car was parked in the open garage.
For My Master, BDSM fiction from Ellora’s Cave
She knocked. After breathless seconds passed, he opened the door, clad casually in denim shorts and a muscle T. She’d never seen so much of Ross before. She let her gaze trail from his chin, dark with stubble, down his throat to his chest. Solid pecs bulged beneath the T-shirt. His belly looked flatter than Kansas, and his legs showed that he worked out regularly.
He was hot, just as she’d guessed. Every muscle she could see was developed, hard, ready for action.
His dark eyes raked her from top to toe, and her breath stuck in her throat. Did she please him? She wasn’t big on top, but her yellow dress, with narrow straps holding up a snug, white-trimmed bodice, made the most of her assets.
Her nipples hardened beneath his gaze. They rasped against the piqué trim, increasing her heat, her need. The cotton dress skimmed her waist and flared at the hips, its short skirt showing off her tanned legs in sexy, heeled sandals.
Then his smile hit her with the same power it had packed the first time they’d met. More than ever, she was sure they were fated to be together.
He pulled her inside the threshold and kicked the door shut with a bare foot. It slammed just before he kissed her.
Soft and strong…his mouth was so soft, but there was no mistaking the strength underlying his tenderness. Her master wasn’t afraid to show his gentler side, though he took what he wanted, parting her lips with his, entering her with his tongue, not with force but with a flirtatious flick that teased and tempted.
She gave in to the temptation he offered. Assured, but without brutality, each touch of his chiseled lips, each stroke of his tongue made her his. He kissed her as though nothing else in the world mattered or even existed but their mouths, exploring, their tongues twining in a seductive dance that would have only one end.
The thought of Ross inside her dragged a moan from deep in her throat. Her hips bucked, shoving wantonly against him. She pushed against his arousal, and desire flared through her like an untamed arc of electricity.
Sinewy arms encircled her while his searching hands discovered her body. He lifted her skirt to caress her pussy. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “So sweet, so sexy.”
The stroke of his hand on the newly shaved flesh was possessive, carnal. Unstoppable, and she didn’t want to stop him as he probed her dampening folds, slid along her clit to find her opening. His finger pressed inside, and she rocked, demanding more. He slipped out and spread her juices onto her clit, stoking her fire.
He caged her head with both hands, holding her fast while he again shifted his total attention to her mouth. The tempo of his tongue’s thrusts changed, mimicking sex, presaging the thorough fucking she prayed he’d give her. She gripped his shoulders and again banged her mound against his thickening cock, asking without words, hoping to drive him insane with lust. Whatever else Ross had planned, she wanted it to wait. She’d waited long enough.
Like what you read?
Find all my ebooks at:
https://www.amazon.com/author/suzdemello
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html
August 6, 2012
Sue Lyndon and Dark Without You
My guest today is Sue Lyndon. Welcome, Sue!
In my latest erotic romance novella, Dark Without You, the hero, Andy, is a drummer in a metal band called Soul Smashers. He loves the music but hates the drama that comes with fame. He wants nothing more than to quit the band and start a quiet life somewhere. Opening up a music store appeals to him, and he shares this dream with the heroine, Alice. Andy’s quandary got me thinking – if I was going to open up my own business, what kind of business would I open? Here are the ideas I came up with:
A coffee shop
A book store (with a large erotic romance section)
Dark Without You
A yarn store
A scrapbooking store
A bakery (note to self: must first become an expert baker)
A gift shop (filled with items made by local artists)
That’s it! I brainstormed for an hour (while watching True Blood and drooling over Eric) and could only come up with six types of businesses I might enjoy starting. I wonder what Andy and Alice would think of my list. Speaking of Andy and Alice, here’s the synopsis for Dark Without You:
Total Love. Domestic Discipline. He takes her world firmly in hand…
Alice Grove owes her brother a lot. After all, he adopted her after their parents died and worked several jobs just to keep food on the table. When he asks for her help keeping a musician from the band he manages happy until the end of their tour, Alice is more than willing. She’ll do just about anything to please the enigmatic drummer she’s had a crush on since they were kids.
Andy Steel detests life in the limelight. Touring for weeks on end with no company besides his fellow band members, trashy girls, and an endless supply of booze doesn’t suit his old-fashioned ideals. He aches to have a long-lasting relationship with just one woman–but not just any relationship. He expects obedience inside and outside of the bedroom, and he won’t hesitate to enforce his rules by giving his woman a good spanking. When he meets up with his childhood friend Alice in Chicago, all grown up and aiming to please, Andy knows the heat they generate is something special. Until he hears about Alice’s real reasons for joining the tour, and until she skips town without so much as a good-bye. Andy has no qualms about chasing after her, but he may not like what he discovers along the way.
Think you might enjoy it? Dark Without You can be found on Amazon US, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, and All Romance.
Thanks for hosting me today, Sue!
July 26, 2012
**Like a little sex with sports? Enjoy the Smutlympics!
The ever-active Victoria Blisse has thought up a fun blog hop celebrating the Summer Olympics in her native England.
This blog hope requires the participants to be all sweaty and sexy, instead of just sexy.
Play Smutlympics to win!
http://smutinthecity.co.uk/smutlympic...
I happen to think athletes are hot, mega-hot, hotter than any other kind of guy. So I’ve written a coupe of books starring athletes. Today I’ll be showcasing Puckheads, my romantic suspense set in the fast-paced world of pro hockey.
Here’s the blurb:
How far would you go to win your lifelong dream?
When Zoë Whipple agrees to film a documentary about a hockey team’s season, she doesn’t sign on for scandal, crime and murder. But she discovers that players rabid to win the championship don’t let morality or the law stand in the way of their ambitions.
When a rookie dies from cardiac arrest, Zoë is saddened but not suspicious until another player, in the grip of ‘roid rage, goes berserk on the ice and ends up in the hospital. Digging into the mess reveals illegal painkillers and steroid abuse among most of the team. Zoë, whose reputation for honest filmmaking is at stake, threatens to expose the scandals.
Is her new lover, team captain “Crash” Crasseau, responsible for the harassment and vandalism meant to scare her into silence? When Crasseau’s ex-wife is murdered, and Zoë’s daughter is threatened, Zoë must choose between her career ambitions and her child’s safety.
Here’s an excerpt:
“Quit delaying.” Crasseau pulled her onto the ice.
Zoë tried to control her shaking limbs, but it was tough. She was so nervous that she was sweating through layers of clothing.
Crasseau spun so he was skating backwards and hauled her along with him, impossibly fast. “Relax, will you? You’re wearing full gear. You could fall down a flight of stairs and not get hurt.”
She began to push her skates outward the way she used to do when roller skating. Suddenly it came back to her and she was speeding along, scarcely noticing when Crasseau let go of her hands. When she did notice, she fell, but he didn’t let her hit the ice. The warmth of his arm around her waist, startling and intimate, shot a palpable charge through her body.
Puckheads from Ellora’s Cave
Other players gathered around to hoot and holler. “Nice skating, câlisse.” Rene Thorion laughed and cuffed Crash on the shoulder, shoving him back to the ice. “Zoë, skate with me. I’ll show you the ropes.”
Crash said something back at Thor that sounded like tabernac, which Zoë didn’t understand, but her French was lousy. “What?”
“Don’t pay attention to those crazy Québeçois.” Manny took Zoë’s hand. “We got a stick for this girl? I teach you how to play defense. It’s easy. Even big dummies like me and Crash, we can play D.”
“No, she’s a winger. Small and fast, like Martin Saint-Louis.” Thor skated circles around them.
“Guys, please.” Zoë let Manny pull her to her feet. “Right now, I’d settle for learning to skate again. Can anyone teach me crossovers?”
“I will.” Jack Taber edged closer to Zoë.
Jeff Durand elbowed Jack in the side. “Better let the captain. He’s pretty possessive of his girl.”
“I’m not—”
“Are so.” Crash grabbed her hand and skated with her around the rink.
Like what you read?
Buy it here:
A little 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
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
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.
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.
July 22, 2012
***A very different Sunday snog: games people always played
http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog
It’s hard to conceive of people’s lives in the eighteenth century. Yet, despite an abundance of new technologies affecting everything from the moment we’re born until the second we draw our last breath, people still do the same things: we eat, sleep and make love. And ways of lovemaking haven’t changed much except for the vibrator.. I’m guessing that in the eighteenth century, people played the same bedroom games we do.
Here’s a selection from Temptation in Tartan, set in the mid-eighteenth century.
“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.
available at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-te...
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.
Like what you read? Buy it here:
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
Sue Swift/Suz deMello
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 hot 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.
July 21, 2012
Be Shamrocked! And maybe win a prize!
Will Devlin Kinney’s Irish charm and toys be enough to hold onto his leading lady, or will his heart be shamrocked into next week?
SHAMROCKED, Irish Kisses book 2, is available now in most major ebook stores.
CONTEST TO WIN A KINDLE FIRE or NOOK TABLET HERE: http://britauthor.blogspot.com/2012/07/get-shamrocked-and-win-kindlefire-or.html
Devlin Kinney is the crass Irish charmer who helped Shaun Bell out on his 1Night Stand by packing him up a few surprises in his overnight bag in the bestseller SWEET IRISH KISS. Surprises both he and Rachel were grateful for. And now you can have all of him because he’s back! With his toy box and a 1Night Stand of his own.
Set in Notting Hill, London and the now infamous Bell’s Irish Pub in Soho, London… Bell’s Irish Pub is open for business, and Devlin Kinney is serving up one tasty treat.
BLURB:
Devlin Kinney is focused on his Irish Rock band, Shamrocked. Between that and tending bar at Bell’s Irish Pub, he’s rushed off his feet. Still, he’s envious of Shaun who found his perfect woman through Madame Eve’s exclusive agency, 1Night Stand. Pushed for time, he follows his friend’s lead and hopes to be matched with a woman ballsy enough to share in his fetish for things that go buzzzz.
At the event of the year for soap stars, Elizabeth Grant meets Devlin and mistakes him for her soon-to-be The EastEnd co-star. Before she has a chance to confess she’s not his 1Night Stand as he seems to think, the silver-tongued, smooth dancer proves irresistible. He seems perfect…for one night of pleasure. She’s ready to play the role of her
life!
Will his Irish charm and toys be enough to hold onto his leading lady, or will his heart be shamrocked into next week?
Mini Excerpt
Surrounded by bridesmaids—the hottest guy in the place. His thick Irish brogue carried over the chattering wedding crowd and bad party songs.
Swallowing any signs of stage fright, she checked her fake hair in a mirrored wall, plumped her boobs,
Shamrocked!
and plastered on a smile before making a beeline for her drop-dead gorgeous future co-star.
She waded through the rough sea of pink-chiffoned up women, snapped out her arm, and took his hand like one of those shaking weight things. Thought she’d blown it until his mouth tilted up into a tempting smile. Dimples. Oh, my. He would be popular with the ladies. Might even help get her noticed by movie producers. Dating this hottie would get her on every front page known to the British public.
“Liz.” She fought to keep focused on his face rather than his thick muscles and rhythmic movements. She couldn’t recall ever seeing a man who could make dancing to All Night Long by Lionel Ritchie so goddamned sexy. His jig was infectious—her arm swayed in beat with his, their hands still clasped together.
“As in Elizabeth?”
“Uh-huh.” The swarm of bridesmaids knitted their brows and pursed their lips. One even stamped her foot. Liz couldn’t help but turning on a sweet smile. “Buh-bye, ladies.”
MORE ABOUT 1NS series: http://decadent1nightstand.blogspot.com
AUTHOR SIGNING:
http://kindlegraph.com/authors/joannekenrick
BUYLINKS:
All Romance: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=JoAnne+Kenrick
WHSmiths:
Kindle USA:
http://www.amazon.com/JoAnne-Kenrick/e/B004FMUJMS
Kindle UK:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/JoAnne-Kenrick/e/B004FMUJMS
Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/joanne-kenrick
BookStrand:
http://www.bookstrand.com/joanne-kenrick
Decadent Publishing:
About JoAnne Kenrick
JoAnne Kenrick, an ex-Ghost Tour guide turned romance author, is a Welsh lass who has lived in various countries around the world. She now calls North Carolina her home, where she lives with her husband, two children and two cheeky cats. When they aren’t demanding her attention, she can most likely be found watching a vampire movie, reading, or baking a British favorite in her kitchen. That is, when she isn’t writing or chatting up a storm on social networking sites. Travel across the pond and far away…with JoAnne Kenrick.
Welcome Back, Suzie!
In any event--today I'm bloggi ...more
- Sue Swift's profile
- 16 followers
