Lucy Felthouse's Blog, page 247
November 1, 2013
New Release: Faustina and the Barbarians by John McKeown
Blurb
Rome wasn’t built in a day but Faustina Maxima, antithesis of the passive Roman matron, can screw herself out of a threatening situation quicker than you can say, “Veni, vidi, vici!” This statuesque beauty, descendant of a famous emperor is a one-woman sexual killing machine that eats savage Goths and Saxons for breakfast—and is also partial to a Pict or two—while lunch, dinner and supper is any Roman who takes her fancy. Like any great general she’s blessed with imagination, and open to every possibility for maximising pleasure. For, as she writes to her daughter-in-law Flavia, the lucky recipient of her mother-in-law’s unblushing exploits among the barbarians, “what is life without ever fresh adventures?”
Warning: This title contains graphic language and is suitable for adults only.
‘Faustina and the Barbarians’ is a 21.000 words historical erotica novella
Published by ahotterstate.com
Excerpt
To: Flavia Maxima, Rome
From: Faustina Maxima, Amorgos, August 410
My darling daughter-in-law, what thrilling news! The Barbarians at the gates of Rome, at last. You and your friends are in for the time of your lives. I’m green with envy, exiled as ever on this barren Grecian rock with nothing but goats and wizened goat herders for company; not to mention that boring, obnoxious bag-of-bones, your father-in-law Flaccus. As soon as you hear Alaric’s Gothic cavalry pounding down the street, get outside and scream for attention.
I know you won’t do that, of course, but I hope this letter of mine will persuade you to stop being such a shrinking violet and have some fun with the gorgeous Goths before they’re completely Romanised. You really must make the most of them, my dear. All disrespect to my darling son, but you must be bored stiff in the bedroom. He’s just like his wimpish father; prefers a blowjob from a eunuch to fulfilling his conjugal duties.
Darling, in all earnestness, the Goths are just the influx of virility the women of Rome are crying out for. I speak, as always, from experience.
Twenty years ago, when the Goths first began seriously troubling our northern borders, Flaccus, appointed Legate by the Emperor Valentinian, was sent to keep an eye on them. I, of course, having the ear—and more vital organs—of His Imperial Majesty, was allowed to accompany him. I was a very excited twenty-year-old, who couldn’t wait to feast her eyes upon those blond giants from the far north.
When we arrived it was high summer, and the forests of Germania were steaming, and not just with fires from Barbarian encampments. Disguised as an officer, I rode with my valiant husband into the centre of the Chief’s camp to parlay. Darling, I simply couldn’t see what threat the Goths posed, for all their energy seemed to be spent in fucking their buxom-arsed women, and often each other, senseless. As we rode in, my saddle was damp with the sights we saw. They were fucking against trees, on the ground, and, one couple I remember, were shafting each other precariously balanced in the boughs of an oak. And what beauties they were! As Flaccus did his ‘fearsome Roman’ bit with Chief Athalaric, I let my eyes take in the tall blonds who surrounded our mounted embassy. Long blond hair turned to gold in the slanting rays of the sun, gemstone eyes set above rich, red mouths sculpted for kissing. And do you know, as I sat, looking as martial as I could, one of them met my eye and made a very provocative gesture with his closed fist. That night I lay in our tent stroking myself and feeling those strong fingers probing inside me.
I was well on the way to coming when I heard Delicia, my hand-maiden, scream. The curtains around my bed were torn back and there stood a gang of young Goths laughing, swords unsheathed.
“Oh Aphrodite, don’t let me wake up now,” I prayed as they gathered close, their eyes bulging with lust in the lamplight.
Buy Links
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
All Romance eBooks
Direct from publisher
Author bio
John McKeown is a British writer based in Dublin. He lived in Prague where he was a teacher and freelance journalist and part of the ex-pat literary scene in the 1990s, then moved to Ireland in 2000 becoming a columnist for the Irish Examiner, and arts feature writer for the Irish Times. He was theatre critic for the Irish Daily Mail from 2006 to 2008 and is currently reviewing theatre for the Irish Independent and UK online theatre magazine Exeunt while raising his daughter Julia. His erotic short stories have been published by Xcite Books in the UK, who have also recently published his first novella Gooseflesh Abbey. JMS Books in the US is publishing two other erotic novellas, also in 2013, Prague Memoir and The Time Sex Machine. In addition to erotica John has four collections of poetry in print, the last, Night Walk published by Salmon Press in Ireland (available from Dufour Editions in the US). He has also collaborated with Leo O’Kelly of Irish folk-rock duo Tir Na nOg, on an album of songs entitled Will released in 2011 on Life and Living Records in the UK.
October 31, 2013
Guest Blogger: Iyana Jenna
Lucy, I’d like to say thank you so much for having me on your blog. I would like to share with your readers my new m/m short story, A Midnight Caller, published by Bitten Press.
I’m a writer. Right?
I just read a blog post about how difficult it is for someone to show others that he is a proper writer. The blog writer said, rather sarcastically, that if he writes 1,000 words a day, then he is a real writer. It’s not enough that one is published because right now everyone can publish his own work.
My question is, why do you need to be called a proper writer? Aren’t you one already? You write something—doesn’t that make you a writer? Whatever you write, whoever reads it, wherever and however you share it, whether it’s for your own satisfaction or other people’s joy. And who says authors should publish books? What about those working for a magazine or newspaper? Script writers? Copy writers? They have the title ‘writer’ attached to their job already. They might not need to write 1,000 a day to show that they are writers.
Just do what you love to do. Write, and enjoy the ride. No matter whether others call you a writer or not.
A Midnight Caller
Summary:
Actor Ashley Ferguson had received several mysterious calls for the past couple of nights. The caller said he was also an actor. Ashley tried to find out who he was and guessed it was Colt Harper, a young actor whose show was also playing on TV. Ashley thought of reporting the calls to the cops several times but he kept delaying doing it.
One night after Ashley was finished shooting someone grabbed him in the parking lot. The man said he was the midnight caller. Ashley was afraid that his earlier guess was wrong and his decision not to report to the police would end up really bad for him.
Excerpt:
“Hey, I’m sorry, man…”
“And you said you’d call the next day but you didn’t.”
“Oh, were you expecting that? Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Shut up. I’m just so stupid. Get out of my life, okay?”
“Hey, wait. Please, I didn’t mean that. I’m so grateful you want to talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, thanks for giving me the chance to talk to you. By the way, Ashley…”
“Listen. You sound like a good kid. Why don’t you tell me your name and end all this weirdness?”
“And then we can meet?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Don’t you want to see me?”
Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords
About the Author:
Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams, though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather than sleeping.
Another thing Iyana loves is kitties. Right now she has five of them. Their names are Larva, Nyil, Cil, Mermood, and Horus. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would play with her when she writes.
Author’s Links:
Blog
Website
Amazon
Goodreads
Facebook
Twitter
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October 30, 2013
A Top Pick for Mean Girls
I’m still scrabbling madly to catch up from Erotica 2013, so it was lovely to receive a fantastic review for Mean Girls to keep me going. Night Owl Reviews gave it a wonderful write up, as well as a Top Pick award, woohoo!
Here’s what they had to say about my Rubenesque erotic romance novella:
“Lucy Felthouse knows what curvy gals want and she gives it to them with this fantastic contemporary short. I loved how the story just flowed so smoothly and I felt as if I had so much invested in this couple’s future as their connection was so poignant. Their attraction and the culmination of it was skillfully done. I’m looking forward to reading many more stories by this author as well as reading this fabulous one over and over again.” 4.5 out of 5
Read the review in its entirety here: http://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Reviews/Paulinemichael-reviews-Mean-Girls-by-Lucy-Felthouse
Find out more about the book and grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/mean-girls/
October 29, 2013
Erotica 2013 – A Mad Weekend of Smut, Strippers and Submissives
Phew. I. Am. Exhausted. My Erotica journey started on Wednesday, where I dropped off the dog with the boyfriend, then headed down to London on Thursday. A cheeky Twitter conversation meant that the lovely John Tisbury (fantastic erotic photographer) ended up taking my books down to London, leaving me slightly less laden down – and there’s my first thank you of the post – thanks John! Victoria Blisse and I had a fairly chilled out Thursday evening, which is just as well, as it’s been insanity ever since.
(Click on any of the photos to enlarge)
Friday saw us wandering East London in search of the venue, the Tobacco Dock shopping centre, which we’ve since discovered was actually built by Harrods. Fortunately, I have a good sense of direction and am handy with a map, so we found it with no trouble. We picked up our passes and went in search of our stand, which gave us a peek at the venue – a real place of two halves. Downstairs is all vaulted ceilings and is very dungeon-like, which fit in really well with the kinky stalls and shows. Upstairs is much lighter, and that’s where we were. In a fabulous spot opposite the Television X and Get Adult stands, to be exact.
Victoria and I were alone to start with, setting up the stand and putting up posters, laying out promo materials, etc. But soon we were done and the show opened with crowds filtering through straight away. We were soon joined by the fantastic Zak Jane Keir, who I’d never met before, but very soon we were chatting nineteen to the dozen! Zak added books, badges and promo stuff to the table, and we were away. Soon we were chatting with people interested in erotic fiction – even some people who weren’t! – selling books, having a laugh, seeing some very interesting sights and generally having a good time. Friday was busier than I expected it to be, and we made a good dent in our stock before the day was out.
Saturday was always going to be the busiest day. The most visitors and the most authors appeared that day, including Zak Jane Keir, K D Grace, Kay Jaybee, L C Wilkinson, Cara Sutra, Toni Sands, Aoife Brennan (who made the trip all the way from southern Ireland!) Ashe Barker and Kristina Lloyd. The stand itself was mad busy, with lots more books being sold, and the Smutty word spread far and wide. We did plenty of readings, managing to scare the crap out of people (one guy happened to be right next to the speaker when I started) and turn them on (one of the scantily clad Bondara boys said Victoria’s reading turned him on) and of course entice them to our stand for goodies and reading material. The day flew by in an insane daze and while I spoke to tons of people, there were others I didn’t get chance to chat to. But it’s always the way
Sunday was busier than Friday, but not as busy as Saturday. As our sales were so fabulous on Saturday, we put out an SOS to K D Grace’s lovely hubby to bring more books to sell, so we popped them on the stand and we were away! We were joined once again by Aoife Brennan and Ashe Barker, and we also had good friend and super Sh! girl, Renee, helping us out. She was a genuine wonder as Victoria and I were getting a little worn out by our long weekend, but Renee was a sales whizz, handing out free lube, postcards and business cards to receptive passers-by. She of course touted our smutty books, too, recommending ones she’d read and enjoyed and generally being bloody awesome. I don’t know how we’d have managed without her. Thanks, Renee, you have our undying gratitude!
So, our stand was all about erotic fiction and spreading the smutty word, but I suppose you want to know what the strippers and submissives were all about, don’t you? Well, okay, here goes…
The Erotica show had everything from a stand selling regular jewellery (not a collar in sight!) to a mostly-naked woman covered in sushi, glamour models to porn stars. Any kink was catered for. As a result, we of course saw people in very different outfits. Lots of people were dressed in regular clothes, others were slightly kinkier, and others were mostly naked. The mostly naked includes both visitors and the male strippers, who myself and the other attendees to our stand had the benefit of watching wander in and out of their changing room, which was next to our stand. They were pretty smiley guys, and I managed to grab one and have a photo taken. We also had eye candy in the form of the Bondara boys (there were bunny girls, too, for the boys to look at!), who were a lovely bunch, very friendly, fun and totally okay with being stared at and photographed. But I suppose they could hardly be anything else in those outfits! There were lots of submissives being led around on leads, and I remember one very shy guy who wore a Spiderman t-shirt and a skunk tail who was a sweetheart.
Other things I remember seeing – a man with actual fangs, which was probably the most surprising thing I saw all weekend. A pony and trap, with the pony being human. Guys in rubber puppy outfits, including collars, leads and tails. Lots and lots of flesh, some of it a bit too much, I must confess. A random lap dance which was not very sexy at all, sorry. Some very cool outfits, and also some totally wacky ones. Fire play, knife play, wiggling and thrusting, spanking… the list goes on. If you weren’t there, I’m sure you can use your imagination 
But, lest you think the show was all total filth, here’s something to make you change your mind. I met some of the loveliest, most genuine, kind-hearted, generous souls I have ever come across at the show. Including a woman who was looking for gay erotica for her son. He’d just come out and she was incredibly proud and eager to make sure he knew she supported and loved him. That definitely plucked at my heartstrings. The wonderful Chris Hermon, a lovely, lovely man of many talents who was very interested in what we did and how we may be able to work together. The gentleman who works for a charity that rescues trafficked women and told us some horrendous stories (look out for an anthology in future that donates proceeds to that very worthy charity) – he left Victoria and I shocked and determined to do something to help.
It was, of course, a fabulous opportunity to put faces to Twitter handles, with sometimes surprising results. I confess to not expecting a priest to be following me on Twitter I also met people I’d communicated with in the past but never physically met. Spent some time with folk I don’t see very often and generally had a wicked – literally – time. I was incredibly happy to be there – don’t I just have the most fantastic job?!
The only downer on the weekend, really, was the travel chaos getting home. A storm blowing across the south of England screwed myself and Victoria – and many others, of course – up in terms of getting back home. We both managed it eventually, but not before wandering between Euston and St. Pancras several times, popping into King’s Cross (where I happily visited the Harry Potter platform 9 and 3/4 shop), getting stampeded several times and trying hard not to lose our rag. We also made the effort to be very nice to the rail staff who were getting the brunt of the bullshit, despite it not being their fault. I also found that because thousands of people were in the same situation, it made them very, very kind. Strangers smiled at one another, helped one another out, gave up seats for older folk, carried heavy bags for one another and generally restored my faith in the kindness of humans. We can be very horrible to one another, but on Monday, we were very nice. It was humbling, and I’m glad I did my bit and helped out someone. I’m also very lucky that I was just delayed – people’s houses and businesses got damaged and destroyed, and people lost their lives. So getting home a day late is nothing at all.
I know I’m missing stuff out here, but I could go on for ages and ages. So I’ll wrap up with my thank yous. Thanks, obviously, to Victoria, my fellow Northern Bird, partner in crime, for being so awesome. We did it, mate! To Kev, who helped lots with organisation and did the banners, posters, postcards and lots of other things for the cause. Thank you to House of Erotica for your support – wish you could have been there! Thank you to Kay Jaybee, K D Grace, Aoife Brennan, Zak Jane Keir, Toni Sands, L C Wilkinson, Kristina Lloyd, Ashe Barker and Cara Sutra for being there, for supporting us, helping us and of course being lots of fun! You all rock 
Thank you to the guy that got us there in the first place, Lee Schofield, and Lisa Gilbride. To Totally Bound for being fun, helpful, supportive and letting us steal your pens Thanks again to John Tisbury, to Barry, the awesome sound guy who got us rigged up for reading, to Renee for helping us on Sunday out of the goodness of her heart, to everyone that stopped by and chatted with us, made us laugh, kept us going when we were running out of energy, and of course, bought books and took our promo stuffs. You’re all fantastic, and we couldn’t have done it without you. I’m very sorry if I missed anyone, blame my exhaustion.
Now, I’m off to bed for a few weeks, then onto planning next year!
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October 28, 2013
Hot Halloween Heroes
Sorry my post is late – I got stuck in all the havoc in London, UK, with the storms and am just home and catching up. So, here goes – here’s the blurb for one of my favourite paranormal romances, which I just happened to write You can be in with a chance of winning a copy by using the Rafflecopter. Good luck!
*****
As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.
One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.
Has Cupid finally met his match?
More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/cupid/
*****
Carry on hopping!
Guest Blogger: Jocelyn Dex
Thanks to Lucy for having me here for the release of Valia’s Villain, book two in my Sempire Seductions series!
Valia’s Villain was a blast to write. Valia is a little weird, she’s incredibly confident and she goes for what she wants. She’s also not afraid to use any or all cuss words if the mood strikes her.
Rydin is serious, vengeful and lets nothing get in the way of what he wants. He will maim, kill or steal if the situation calls for it. And, of course, he is super sexy.
These two kept me on my toes during the writing process. They’re both so strong willed, I occasionally had to fight with them to get them to do what I needed them to do. Sometimes, I won the fight. Sometimes, they did. Either way, in the end, it all worked out. They’re happy. I’m happy. And I certainly hope the readers will be happy.
I hope people have as much fun reading Valia’s Villain as I had writing it. If you liked Araya’s Addiction (book one), hopefully you’ll love Valia’s Villain.
*****
Excerpt:
Valia couldn’t remember ever wanting another being so desperately. Her body hummed as his tongue worked her into a frenzy. Bossy son of a bitch, he was, but she expected no less from a Ferox.
She shuddered and moaned as he rolled his tongue around her clit, the pressure building in her lower abdomen. With her free hand, she wrapped her thumb around one of his horns as her fingers dug into his scalp, urging him to send her over the edge.
He growled and bit the inside of her thigh.
“Stop,” Rydin commanded.
“Stop what?” Valia asked.
“Don’t touch my horns.”
“But they’re so sexy.” She gave him her best pouty face.
He blinked at her, a look of surprise crossing his face, quickly replaced with a scowl. “Are you teasing me, female?”
“I told ya, my name is Valia, male. And no, not teasing. Your horns are super sexy and I wanna touch them.”
He looked at her for another long moment as if searching for something. He dipped his head and bit the inside of her other thigh. God, he was going to drive her crazy. He looked back at her and said, “They are sensitive and I am already too stimulated. I want to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you. If you do as I say, I may give you permission to touch them later.”
Oh wow. She hadn’t known his horns were an erogenous zone. Now she really wanted to touch them. His tongue lapped at her clit furiously. She avoided his horns but couldn’t stop herself from grabbing a fistful of his hair. Her hips ground against his tongue, his lips. Intense pleasure knotted deep inside. Little sparks began erupting inside her but just as she was about to fall over the edge, he stopped.
She groaned and still with a fistful of his hair, tried to force him to continue.
His eyes dark and his lips glistening with her pleasure, he said, “You were about to come. I did not give you permission.”
She choked out her words. “If you don’t want me to come, you shouldn’t lick me like that.”
His lips quirked into a cocky smile. “My tongue pleases you?”
“It’d please me if you’d put it to better use than asking me stupid questions,” she grouched.
*****
Blurb:
When Valia approaches the Ferox demon, hoping for scorching sex and a feed, she doesn’t expect to be handcuffed, transported to the demon realm, accused of dirty deeds she has no memory of committing and held captive for three days. Even though she believes her captor to be crazy, she feels a connection to him she’s felt with no one else.
When Rydin senses the Sempire who locked him up, fed on him and used him as a sex slave many years ago, he knows his wait for revenge is finally over. Burning with the need to punish her, he imprisons her in the demon realm, where she is at his mercy, but as much as he tries to ignore it, a connection sparks between them every time they touch.
Available from:
Ellora’s Cave
*****
Author Bio
Jocelyn was born in Iowa and currently resides in hot-as-hell Texas. She shares her home with her very own 6’4″ alpha male and varying numbers of spoiled cats and dogs. Teaching one of her dogs to file his nails is one of her all-time favorite accomplishments.
She thinks dragonflies are awesome, spiders are creepy and it’s rumored that she sleeps with a machete by her bed in case zombies attack in the middle of the night. Jocelyn loves to paint, loves to read, and loves to write sizzling erotic romance about yummy demons that would make your momma blush.
Here’s where you can find Jocelyn on the web
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Blog * Goodreads
*****
October 27, 2013
Sunday Snog – Mean Girls
Welcome back to Sunday Snog. I’d like to share another snog from Mean Girls, my recently released Rubenesque erotic romance novella.
Immediately she shoved him up against said door and stood on tiptoes so she could kiss him. He quickly realized her dilemma and slid down so their heights were similar and they could comfortably lock lips. Then they did exactly that, resuming the heated caress they’d been enjoying in the park before they’d been so rudely interrupted.
Dropping her keys on the floor, Adele slid her hands under Oliver’s T-shirt, moaning into his mouth as her fingertips swept over the hard lumps of his six-pack. They traveled higher, up to the liberal sprinkling of hair on his pectorals. She grabbed and tugged the hairs ever so lightly, grinning against his lips as he grunted and jerked his hips toward her. His nipples were the next thing she touched, pinching them between thumb and forefinger, twisting them and pulling them a little until he pushed her away.
“You’re driving me crazy, woman. In a good way. Now please forgive me for being so blunt, but how about we go upstairs and get naked and horizontal?”
Adele didn’t reply. Instead she pressed a long, lingering kiss to his lips, then turned and walked up the stairs and into her bedroom. By the time she’d drawn the curtains and kicked off her shoes, Oliver had joined her and was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a predatory expression.
Want more information? Head here.
Also, don’t forget to head back to Blissekiss and see what other luscious lip to lip action other authors have posted. Yum!***
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October 26, 2013
My Sexy Saturday #4 – #MySexySaturday
Welcome back to My Sexy Saturday. This is where writers post either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from their published work or work in progress, sticking to the week’s theme. The theme is characters falling in love. So here’s a snippet from A French Affair, my erotic romance novella.
By the time she finished, Harry had slipped from beneath her and switched on the bedside lamp. He tugged the covers from under their bodies and threw them over the top, covering her up, then gathering her to him and holding her tight.
“Listen to me, sweetheart. I can’t stop you thinking those things. I know I can’t, and it drives me crazy. But I guess I can understand why you’re thinking them. It’s different when a wife or a husband dies to when they separate or divorce. And I’ve always been up front with you about how I felt about Shelly. But you have to remember that when I removed my wedding ring, I also threw away the part of me that was clinging onto the past. She’s gone, she’ll always be gone. But equally, a part of her lives on in Marcus and Roxanne and in our hearts and memories.”
He paused.
“But, that’s nothing for you to worry about. I can’t wipe her out, I wouldn’t want to. But what I do want to do is spend the rest of my life with you. Create more memories together. Me and you. Hopefully one day, the kids too. As a family. Maybe even have a kid or two of our own. Sydney, I know it’s been a ridiculously short amount of time, but you’ve stolen my heart. Really made me want to move on, to be with someone else. To be happy. I don’t want to scare the shit out of you, but I think I’m falling for you. It’s been so long that I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like. But I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happening.”
A tear slipped from the corner of Sydney’s eye and rolled down the side of her face and into the pillow beneath her head. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d begun to cry, but she figured it was happiness, not sadness, that was inspiring such emotion in her. So she decided to let it be. Happiness was to be embraced, encouraged, and she hoped that she’d find a great deal more of it with Harry.
“I’m falling for you, too, Harry.”
“Well,” he said, holding her tighter and shifting so his lips were just millimetres from hers, “thank fuck for that.”
You can buy A French Affair here.
Please use the list below to head on over to the other blogs participating in My Sexy Saturday, and don’t forget to leave us all comments, we love ‘em!
Happy Reading,
Lucy x
October 24, 2013
The Exhibition, Book Three of The Executive Decisions Trilogy By Grace Marshall
Here’s yet another new release from a Brit Babe! This time it’s Grace Marshall, aka K D Grace, who’s serving up the goodies. This is the third part of her amazing Executive Decisions trilogy. I can’t wait to read it!
Blurb:
Successful NYC gallery owner, Stacie Emerson, is ex-fiancée to one Thorne brother and ex-wife to the other. Though the three have made peace, Ellison Thorne’s friend, wildlife photographer, Harris Walker, still doesn’t like her. When Stacie convinces Harris to exhibit his work for the opening of her new gallery she never intended to include him in her other more hazardous plans. But when those plans draw the attention of dangerous business tycoon, Terrance Jamison, Harris comes to her aid. In the shadow of a threat only Stacie understands, can she dare let Harris into her life and make room for love?
Available from:
eBook:
Print:
Excerpt:
She stood to put her pack back on, and he came to his feet and caught her by the shoulder, not wanting it to end like this, not wanting her to leave until they were good again. When she tried to push him away, he pressed her between his body and the stone of the cliff face. ‘You can’t just shut us all out, Stacie.’
‘I never wanted you involved in the first place. I never wanted any of you involved but you couldn’t leave it alone,’ she jerked back against him but there was no place to go. ‘You couldn’t just let it go.’
He moved in closer until his body pressed up against hers, holding her tightly against the stone. ‘No, I couldn’t, and I can’t and neither can anyone else who cares about you and neither would you if the situation were reversed. So whether you like it or not, I’m here to stay. We’ve already discussed this, so get used to it.’ He punctuated his point with a harsh kiss that couldn’t have been very pleasant for her, but then he was angry, worried, scared for her. Instead of shoving at him as he’d expected her to do, she curled a hard fist in his hair and ravaged his mouth with every bit as much ferocity as he had given her, pulling him still closer, rubbing her body against his, making him instantly and startlingly erect.
She snaked a hand down between them and savaged his fly until he feared for what lay beneath, until her fingers wriggled and dug their way into his walking trousers to possess his cock with a tight grip as though it were a weapon, one she were about to use to do serious damage.
He fumbled to return the favour, with her ripping at her own fly to make room for him, to guide his fingers down over her mons. Her eyes locked his in a devastating gaze that felt as though she could see right through him. ‘I need you to touch me there.’ Her voice was a breathless whisper. ‘Where I’m wet, where I’m open, where I’m always, always hungry for you.’ Her breath caught; her eyelids fluttered and she sucked her bottom lip as he found her cleft, wet and open as she’d promised. ‘You can’t tell me you don’t want to be like those cats.’ She guided his hand still further and manipulated it until first two, then three fingers pressed up into her. ‘You can’t tell me that when I present myself to you all hot and ready and begging for it, you don’t want to service my need. You can’t tell me you don’t want to get a little primal with that cock of yours.’ She gave him a hard squeeze and drove her hand up and down his length, thumbing the already abundant pre-cum over and around the tip until he gritted his teeth and held his breath while his hips bucked hard against her efforts.
He scissored her deep with three fingers and raked the silky slickness of her up and over her clitoris, and the sounds from the back of her throat easily resembled the sounds the female cougar made when the male mounted her. They wildly, madly fucked each other’s hands. The wind had risen and even on the clear morning, the chill left no doubt about lingering for more than the quickest of releases. Then she shifted, pressed her back hard against the stone and rested both of her hands on his shoulders. Before he could protest the removal of her fingers from his cock, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her still clothed crotch rubbing tight and insanely hot against his exposed cock as she began to rock and gyrate, and it was all happening way too fast.
‘Stacie I –’
‘Shut up, Harris,’ she spoke between chattering teeth. ‘I need to come, and so do you. You can fuck me properly when we get back to the SUV. It’s too damn cold to linger.’ With each sentence she ground against him, baring down with the extra leverage the cliff at her back afforded and, almost before the words were out of her mouth, she convulsed. Her spine stiffened and her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Harris could stand no more. He felt the eruption deep in his groin. It might have been embarrassing had the circumstances been different, but as he tried to cover himself, tried to hide the results of Stacie’s hard ride, she shoved his hand away, pushed him back and practically fell into the space between them positioning herself so that she caught his release, all of it in her mouth. What could he say to that? What could he do but hold her there, helplessly grunting the weight of his need into the back of her throat. It was an act as intimate and as primal as the cougars mating on the rocks minutes ago. And sex, any kind of sex, with Stacie Emerson was worlds apart from any other sexual experiences he’d ever had. As she stood and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, the look of hunger in her eyes, the promise of more sex to come in the SUV before the trip home couldn’t help but lighten the mood. As they straightened and tucked and donned their packs, he wondered if that was maybe why she did it. Whatever her reason, it definitely worked for him in ways he was still trying to get his head around.
About Grace Marshall:
Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.
Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy published by Xcite Romance. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis and the final instalment of the trilogy, The Exhibition, are all now available at all your favourite book sellers with lots of romance and thrills served hot.
Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.
Find Grace Here:
Websites: http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GraceMarshall
http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/GM_Romance
October 23, 2013
Guest Blogger: Tracey H. Kitts
Have you ever had something you felt like you just had to do? Well, for me that was writing my own version of Dracula. I first read Bram Stoker’s Dracula when I was about twelve years old. I think it’s safe to say I have been obsessed with vampires ever since.
My biography doesn’t lie; I have always been drawn to the macabre with a fondness for anything with fangs. Even as a young child I was fascinated with werewolves, witches, and vampires. While other girls were playing “house” with their Barbies, I was playing, “Let’s bite Ken,” or “Ken is a werewolf.” Ha. Ha. Ha.
Like many classic villains, I never felt that Dracula had a fair shake, so to speak. In truth, I never saw him as a villain at all. For so long now he has been the man of my dreams. Maybe that’s why in my story Mina has dreamed of him all her life.
This story is more a part of me than I can fully describe. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life to write this book, as if I was working up to it.
A few people have asked me why I wrote this book as T.K. Hardin. Especially, since I still put my name (Tracey H. Kitts) so prominently on the cover. I have chosen to write this book as T.K. Hardin simply to let my regular readers know that this book is a change from the norm. Although there are elements of horror in many of my other books, they are not erotic horror stories. Normally, I write erotic paranormal romance. Though there is certainly a love story in Dracula: In The Flesh, there are also many other elements that might offend someone expecting something a bit milder. My beta readers loved the story just as well as my other books. However, I didn’t want anyone walking into this one without fair warning. Dracula: In The Flesh is not for the faint of heart.
Dracula: In The Flesh is what I believe the story should be. In one instant it is brutal, violent and frightening, and the next heartbreaking and romantic. I am thrilled to present this book to readers and I sincerely hope that everyone enjoys this story as I have.
Book Info:
Jonathan Harker, a young English lawyer, is traveling to Castle Dracula in order to finalize a real estate transaction. He has been personally requested by Count Dracula. What Jonathan doesn’t realize is that Dracula’s interests do not lie with him, but with his beautiful fiancée, Mina.
As soon as he saw her face, Dracula knew the ritual was a success. After all these long years, his love has returned to him. However, many things (such as Van Helsing and Jonathan Harker) stand in the way of their happiness. Sure, he could kill them all and take what he wants. However, his greatest desire is not to possess Mina, but to love her and have her return his love.
Therefore, Dracula’s fate and the fate of those closest to her lie in Mina’s hands. She has dreamed of him all her life. But what will she do when she learns her dark prince is real? What will happen when she knows him, not as a dream, but in the flesh?
WARNING: This book contains graphic violence, and graphic sex. This is NOT a romance novel, although there is a romance involved. This is Erotic Horror and might offend some readers.
Purchase your copy here:
