Lucy Felthouse's Blog, page 280
October 27, 2012
Sunday Snog – Miss Pemberton’s Drawers
Here’s a saucy snippet from my story, Miss Pemberton’s Drawers, which appears in the Xcite Books anthology of the same name.
Careful not to crush her with his weight, Owen leaned down and captured Miss Pemberton’s swollen mouth in a kiss. Her eyes fluttered open and he saw them crinkle at the corners as she eagerly reciprocated. It was a chaste kiss—both of them were too breathless for anything more, and soon Owen pulled away and rolled onto the table next to her. She twisted her head to look at him, and they grinned at one another, basking in the afterglow of their respective orgasms.
After a few minutes, when he’d regained his presence of mind and the ability to speak, Owen said, “So, er, Miss Pemberton, was this a one-off thing, or what?”
“Bloody hell, don’t call me Miss Pemberton, you sound like one of my pupils! It’s Sally. And actually, if you’re willing, I was wondering if you’d like to check my drawers on a more regular basis.”
Owen laughed. “Is the sky blue? Though maybe we shouldn’t make fucking on school property a regular occurrence, eh? I need this job.”
“Agreed. Next time, Mr. Caretaker, you’ll have to make a home visit.”
Check out the blurb and buy links here.
Also, don’t forget to head back to Victoria’s site and see what other luscious lip to lip action other authors have posted. Yum!
Weekend at Wilderhope Manor is FREE from 27th – 31st October!
That’s right! My lesbian erotic story set over a Halloween weekend is FREE on Amazon UK and US from 27th – 31st October. Make sure to grab your copy, and tell all your friends!
Get it here: Amazon UK | Amazon US
Blurb:
When Stephanie and Jenny go to a Murder Mystery Halloween weekend at Wilderhope Manor, they’re expecting fun and games. But following creaky floorboards, spooky noises and an alarming encounter in the Manor’s grounds, the girls begin to wonder if there’s more to Wilderhope Manor than meets the eye. As they find frequent comfort in one another’s arms – and their bed – will the girls discover what’s causing the bumps in the night, or will they run scared?
Excerpt:
The car trundled up the long driveway, the crunching of gravel beneath tyres the only sound as Stephanie and her girlfriend, Jenny, peered out of the windows at their surroundings.
Even at dusk the tree-lined driveway was impressive with perfectly maintained parkland, spanning for acres on either side of it. As Stephanie steered the Fiesta around a bend in the track, they both gasped. Their destination, Wilderhope Manor, had come into view and it was stunning. The Tudor style property was huge, with no less than three frontages visible from where they were. Chimneys with intricately built patterns jutted into the darkening sky, with tangles of ivy climbing parts of the manor, giving the place an appearance that was both beautiful and foreboding.
Presently, the driveway opened out into a gravelled area, which as far as Stephanie could tell, doubled as a car park for the weekend. Stephanie manoeuvred into a spot between two vehicles and killed the engine. As she turned to Jenny, she jumped, startled. Her girlfriend had leaned in close, making a scary face with her hands mimicking claws.
“Are you ready to be scared out of your wits, young lady?” Jenny rasped, wiggling her eyebrows and fingers theatrically.
Stephanie shoved her playfully, laughing. “Come on, you silly cow. It’s a murder mystery weekend, not a monster hunt. There will be no ghosts, ghouls or vampires involved.”
Stephanie got out of the car and closed the door. She’d already popped open the boot and started unloading their bags before Jenny appeared alongside her, pouting petulantly.
“But it’s Halloween tomorrow,” Jenny insisted. “Anything could happen. The veil between the living and dead will be at its thinnest, and this place is meant to be swarming with ghosts.”
“If you say so, sweetheart,” she replied, rolling her eyes. She was used to Jenny’s crazy beliefs by now. “Grab your bags and let’s get inside. It’s cold. You got the tickets?”
Jenny nodded, brandishing her handbag in response. Jenny picked up her overnight bag as Stephanie slammed the boot lid before locking the car, then followed her toward the grand entrance to Wilderhope Manor.
* * *
A little while later, they were installed in their room. They’d each been handed a “Welcome Pack” by the staff member who had attended to them at Reception, which consisted of their itinerary and instructions for the weekend.
As they unpacked, she voiced one of the thoughts that had run through her head. “Have you ever noticed how places never bat an eye at two girls sharing a room, and yet, if it’s two guys, they automatically assume they’re gay?”
“They’ll soon change their tune when they see your outfit for tonight!” Jenny replied, grinning cheekily at her. “It screams ‘lesbian’ with every stitch!”
“Whatever do you mean, you saucy wench? Someone with girl parts dressing as a distinguished gentleman does not a lesbian make.”
“True, but I wonder what it’ll do to you? Perhaps it’ll work in reverse and turn you straight!”
Get it here: Amazon UK | Amazon US
October 26, 2012
Guest Blog: Justine Elyot
Country House
There’s something about a country house, isn’t there? Especially when it comes to erotica. So many of my favourite stories take place in remote ancestral piles that I could almost classify it as a fetish.
I’ve indulged this taste of mine in my new Mischief novella, His House of Submission. Jasper’s house full of antique furniture, set in lavish grounds, makes for a perfect bubble away from the real world – a fantasy place where he and Sarah, the graduate student he has hired to catalogue his collections of artefacts, can play to their heart’s content, away from prying eyes. (Or can they?)
I’m a lover of rolling lawns, overgrown walled gardens, gravel paths and statuary outside. Inside I like a huge central staircase, wood panelling, writing desks and four poster beds. All of these are in evidence at Jasper’s house. I wish I could live there. With Jasper.
Here’s an excerpt:
‘What room are you working in at the moment?’ he asked.
‘The, uh, the one with the piano.’
‘The drawing room,’ he corrected me. ‘I’ll be in the study. Come and wait outside in, shall we say, two hours? That’ll give me enough time to devise something suitable.’
Instant shivers. Something suitable.
‘Run along then, Sarah,’ he said with a ghoulish smile. ‘We mustn’t neglect our work, must we?’
But I’m afraid I did neglect my work.
Over and over again I came to with a start, some ornament or other in my hand, after drifting into reverie. If I carried on like that, something was going to get broken. And then what might be my fate? I kept going to the door and looking around it, towards the study, listening. Sometimes I could hear his voice, faintly, making telephone calls, or the tap of a keyboard.
While he worked, he was thinking of me. Thinking of what was to be done with me, for my shameless behaviour with his property.
And while I worked, I was thinking of him. Thinking of how he compelled and disturbed and attracted and repelled me. I had never met a man who could do all those things simultaneously before. Perhaps there was no other man in the world who could.
The hands of all the antique clocks made their slow forward progress through time until the two hours had elapsed and I put down my clipboard and pencil, patted down my skirt and left the room.
I could keep walking, walk to the front door, walk to the car, get in the car, drive away.
But I stopped at the study door and lifted my hand and…
I heard his chair creak.
I knocked.
He didn’t reply.
I knocked again.
‘Come in.’
The study was a glorious room and his desk was one of my favourite pieces in the whole house. Mahogany with brass handles and a green leather writing area in the shape of a cross, on top of which his computer looked somewhat incongruous. He should be writing longhand with parchment and ink. There was a raised gallery at the back of the desk, along which were perched a procession of film awards, the Palme d’Or in pride of place.
I breathed in the beeswax and stillness, letting it calm my jangling nerves.
‘Sarah,’ he said, sitting back in his oxblood leather chair. ‘Now we come to the real test.’
‘Do we?’
He opened a drawer and brought out the strop. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, staring at it.
Uh oh! What happens next? Well, here’s the blurb and a buy link:
He’s a collector with some kinky interests on the side. She’s here to catalogue his possessions. But will she end up being one of them?
Sarah turns up at Jasper Jay’s country house thinking she has been hired to make an inventory of his large collection of historical artefacts. But when she and her lover, Will, are caught by the boss sneaking a peek at some of his more private pieces, she starts to suspect an ulterior motive. Alone with Jasper Jay in his secluded manor, Sarah finds herself enthralled by the enigmatic collector, especially given the intimate interest she shares with him. Pretty soon, they’re entangled in an intense relationship of domination and submission that excludes the rest of the world. Until it intrudes, in the form of a vengeful Will, bent on exposing everything his erstwhile boss has worked so hard to keep secret.
Available at Amazon etc. and via Mischief Books website: http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/his-house-submission/
October 25, 2012
It’s Time to Celebrate Howloween!
Who says trick-or-treating is strictly for the kids?
Welcome to the Howloween Blog Hop! 270+ authors….TONS of goodies to be won. So put on your costumes (or PJs whatever ) and go a knockin’ a each of the blogs on the hop!
Before you go entering the giveaway and hopping away, though, I just wanted to share a spooky excerpt from my lesbian paranormal tale, Weekend at Wilderhope Manor, which coincidentally, will be free from 27th – 31st October, so hit Amazon from the 27th to grab your FREE copy!:
That decided, the girls walked in. Stephanie, the more logical of the two, led the way through the narrow corridors in search of the elusive centre. She felt confident at first, but as the twists and turns continued, she felt less so. That and the fact that she’d been right about the creep factor. It was a clear but not particularly bright day, resulting in very little natural light penetrating the hedges that made up the maze. It was navigable but incredibly gloomy, and Stephanie sensed that Jenny was staying as close behind her as possible without treading on the backs of her shoes. Honestly, she didn’t blame her. Even Stephanie was starting to feel a little spooked. The silence wasn’t helping. From their sheltered position, they could see glimpses of the sky, but they couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of their own footsteps and breathing.
Stephanie picked up the pace, albeit subtly. She didn’t want to worry Jenny, but she wasn’t quite sure where they were and she was feeling really quite nervous. Despite the silence and the fact they hadn’t seen another soul since they’d left the house, Stephanie suddenly had the oddest feeling that they weren’t alone. It was a silly notion, because the walls of the maze were so thick that you couldn’t see through them, so it wasn’t like anyone could be secretly spying on them. But Stephanie simply could not shake her apprehension. She desperately wanted to get out of the maze, but saw no way of doing it quickly. Even turning back wouldn’t guarantee a swift exit because they wouldn’t remember each twist and turn they’d taken. They could just end up stuck in here even longer.
Suddenly, Jenny’s Alice in Wonderland comment didn’t seem so stupid after all. Refusing to let Jenny sense her fear, she looked steadfastly in front of her and carried on walking. Then she heard the crack of a twig which sounded like it came from up ahead. Unfortunately, Jenny heard it too.
“Wh – what was that?!” Jenny said, clutching onto the back of Stephanie’s coat.
Now, use the Rafflecopter below to enter my awesome giveaway, then click this link to keep hopping!
October 24, 2012
Where And What Is The Gspot?
If I were to mention the name Gräfenberg to you, would you have a clue who I was talking about? I am inclined to think not. However, the fascinating concept of the Gspot was named after him. Gräfenberg was a German gynaecologist. In 1944, his discovery of a new erogenous zone would pave the way for further studies and indeed spark the concept that a woman can, in fact, ejaculate.
What is the Gspot?
The Gspot is said to be an erogenous zone located between 2-3 inches of the front of the vaginal wall. Widely argued for being a highly sensitive area, which when aroused is said to be exceptionally satisfying for a woman. Stimulation via a vibrator is said to be particularly arousing due to the constant pressure.
The history of the Gspot
Starting in the 1600’s the Gspot was mentioned when a Dutch physician Regnier de Graaf linked it with the male prostate. The term Gspot was named after Gräfenberg by Addiego in 1981 during further studies.
Studies
The amount of studies into whether the Gspot exists, are actually quite surprising. Do they suggest that a man will go to any lengths to please his woman? I must confess, exploring the possibilities of how the studies would have taken place, has indeed made me smile on more than one occasion. Of course, the female participants would have done this solely in the name of science! Absolutely! Where do I sign up?!
What does it feel like?
Studies suggest, that constant rubbing of the Gspot, is said to make a woman feel like she wants to urinate at first. So far, this isn’t exactly tickling my fancy. However, if you ignore this feeling for a while (erm… what?!) then you are said to feel a building of excitement, followed by enormous pleasure (that’s more like it!). Perhaps the investigation of whether you possess a Gspot isn’t for everyone, but it is certainly a fun way of exploration, either by yourself (May I recommend a vibrator?), or with a partner as part of your foreplay.
Gspot – does it exist?
Considering the level of studies in this area, it is fairly amusing to discover that there is actually no definitive proof of whether the Gspot actually exists or not. I am amused as I was once told by a male friend that ‘you women are hard to figure out’. Little did he know how hard!
Scientific study has branched into areas, where scientists have tried to connect the Gspot with other areas of the vagina. Some consider the connection between the Skene glands and the Gspot to be weak. Some consider the clitoris to be responsible for all areas of sensitivity involved in a female climax. Some believe that anecdotal evidence is insufficient. How about we lay it out in simple terms? Most women don’t actually care whether the Gspot actually exists or not. If it is a fantasy that every male tries to achieve, to hit that delicious spot every single time, women are hardly going to complain now are they?! One thing the Gspot has done for the greater good; is to create a level of achievement in the pursuit of sexual happiness.
Whether the Gspot exists, or not, a bit of mutually agreed ‘exploration’ certainly wouldn’t do relationships much harm. The act of foreplay can be immensely satisfying. Indeed, there are many areas of the vagina, that when stimulated, at once, or altogether, can build up to a stunning climax. Gspot or no spot, as long as you hit the ‘right spot’ most females are fairly content.
Guest Blogger: Nephylim
INTRODUCTION
The very first story I published online was about vampires who turned out to be angels. I have always seen a connection between vampires and fallen angels and I’ve explored it quite a bit in my writing.
In these stories you’ll find a vampire and an angel but there is no connection and whether or not this angel is fallen depends, I guess, on the way you look at it. He’s definitely an insatiable monster but he’s still fighting on the side of the angels in the ultimate war of good and evil.
As well as vampires, I’ve had a fascination for paranormal beings of all kinds, especially shifters. The shifter in my collection is a werewolf. He’s in a bit of a mess emotionally and I’ve concentrated on that, rather than the usual tormented soul of the monster thing. He’s definitely tormented but it’s the hormones.
There has always been a connection in mythology, I think, between vampires and werewolves and they have often been spoken of in the same sentence. They go together like nuns and bishops, vicars and tarts, apple pie and cream. I wonder why? There’s not much of a similarity. Apart from the fact they eat people. Vampires can’t walk under the sun (NO not because they sparkle), but werewolves can. Werewolves only change at full moon, vampires can at will. Werewolves are mangy animals, vampires sexy and sophisticated.
I think the reason they are put together is because they appeal to our higher and lower instincts. Yes, the appeal is sexual, of course it is. Why else would we flock to see man/animals tear people apart? Because they’re sexy. The violence is sexy. The anticipation is sexy. And I don’t need to explain in what ways vampires are sexy… do I?
Vampires, I think, appeal to our sense of the aesthetic. Eternally young and beautiful. Refines ladies and gentlemen who drink wine from crystal goblets and wear beautiful suits and flowing gowns. The men are all slightly effeminate, with pale skin and long hair and the women are femme fatales. Sex on a plate.
Werewolves, on the other hand are animals, plain and simple. They appeal to our more base and carnal desires. The ones that want to be thrown on a bed and ravished. Hot breath on our bodies, huge penises thrust between our legs and the sense of danger that the teeth nipping our skin might just tear out our throats.
Anyway, that’s me. I’m a very sensuous and rather Freudian person. Everything boils down to sex in the end.
DESCRIPTION
Aster is a vampire looking for someone. When he finds Kia his plan is to fuck him and drain him, but Kia has other ideas. Recognising Aster as the man he’s been waiting for, he turns the tide and seduces him, shocking him with secrets from the past. Together, they enter into an encounter that blows their minds and changes their lives forever.
Lucien is a werewolf. He’s always known he’s different. Definitely not an Alpha like his father. More akin to the bitches than the muscular Beta’s or lithe hunters he finds himself drawn to. When the enigmatic lone wolf arrives, with his pure white hair and ice blue eyes, Lucien is lost at first glance. After a burning hot dream he finally submits to the dominant male destined to be his mate for life.
Dema and Meri’el are an unlikely coupling. In the final war against good and evil they find themselves on opposing sides. Dema the demon and Meri’el the son of the King of Angels. Drugging each other with their bodies they unleash the primal fury of their true natures and rock the foundations of the earth and the heavens.
Grey doesn’t believe in curses. When he uncovers a cavern deep under the mountain feared by the villagers as a faery tomb, he scoffs at the superstition, until he meets a stranger who lures him into the wood. A steamy encounter in a forest glade has him wondering if being cursed is such a bad thing after all.
Shay is mourning the death of his soul mate, tormented by the fact he’d never told him how much he loved him. A knife in the back in a dark alley steals his chance to finally prove his commitment, until ghostly whisper in the same alley leads to a night of passion and the second chance both men crave, to finally find peace.
EXCERPT
And then… wolves do not mate gently. We do not know how. One minute he’s licking me gently, and the next he’s leaping off me, turning me onto my stomach and sliding his claws into my hips. I struggle and howl but, before I can do much I feel his weight on my back and then…
He thrusts into me, deeply and powerfully. I howl again, throwing back my head and releasing the frustrations of eighteen years’ self-inflicted celibacy. My teeth descend, my claws raise a cloud of feathers from the bed and my tail whips his face as he pumps, hard and fast. My dick, swinging beneath me sends sparks into my head where it brushes the bedclothes, and his claws penetrating and retracting from the flesh of my hips only heightens the experience.
BLURB
Five stories of the paranormal, designed to thrill and tease the senses and to challenge all you’ve ever been told about the creatures that go Hump in the Night.
BUY LINKS
All Romance http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-humpinthenight-786310-144.html
Apple http://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/hump-in-the-night/id524978900?mt=11
BIO
Nephylim was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Nephylim has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.
Later in life, Nephylim became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.
In present times, Nephylim lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son and her two cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. The part of her that needs to earn money is a lawyer, but the deepest, and most important part of her is a storyteller and artist, and always will be.
GENERAL LINKS
Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4462803.Nephylim
Blog – http://Nephylim-author.blogspot.co.uk
Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/Nephylim.author
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October 23, 2012
Another Review for Ditched!
Just spotted online, this quickie review of my first m/m erotic story, Ditched. If you love military gay stuff, you’ll love this. Hopefully 
Here’s what Day Dreaming had to say:
“It was fast paced and so hot that it even had me panting. I would have loved for this story to be longer to see how this could have developed into an actual relationship. All in all, I enjoyed this short story which satisfied my reading habit.”
Check out the full review here.
Grab your copy of Ditched here.
October 20, 2012
Blissekiss After Dark
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Welcome to Blissekiss After Dark – a celebration of all things that snog under the stars. My contribution is from my lesbian paranormal erotic tale, Weekend at Wilderhope Manor. In this excerpt, the characters Stephanie and Jenny are having some fun in the library after a spooky encounter…
Either way, she’d let them get on with it. The idiot was just trying to scare people. If she found out who it was, she’d get them back big style tomorrow. But for now, she had a beautiful girl snuggling into her neck and planting little kisses on the delicate skin there. Stephanie shivered with pleasure. Jenny was obviously feeling better.
Craning her neck to look down, she grinned as Jenny returned her gaze. “You all right now, sweetheart?”
Jenny nodded. “I’m fine. I was just being silly. Me and my overactive imagination. I watch too many TV shows. Though I wouldn’t say no to a bit of comfort.”
Jenny’s wicked grin and jauntily raised eyebrow left Stephanie in no doubt as to what she meant. “Oh, I’m sure I can manage that.”
Pushing herself out of the sofa’s cushiony grasp once more, she slipped to the floor and knelt in front of Jenny. A hot rush of lust washed through her body. Earlier, she’d mentioned how much she’d wanted to shove up Jenny’s dress and get at the gorgeous pussy beneath. She hadn’t thought it would happen until it was time for them to go to bed, so an illicit encounter in the library was unexpected, but very welcome.
She slid Jenny’s dress up her luscious legs. Jenny helped by lifting her ass, so the material could be bunched up around her waist, leaving her bottom half completely exposed. She was surprised and excited to note Jenny was indeed, completely exposed.
Jenny wore no underwear, and the sight of her girl’s plump, pink folds ramped up Stephanie’s desire tenfold. She desperately wanted to taste that pussy on her tongue and tease Jenny until she squealed.
The angle of the sofa meant Jenny’s knees were on either side of Stephanie’s head, with her ass way back on the cushions. Cupping her hands under each of Jenny’s knees, she tugged her forward until Jenny was right on the edge of the seat. She now had full unimpeded access to Jenny’s juicy pussy.
Placing her hands on Jenny’s inner thighs, she pushed them wide open, almost salivating as her girl’s slick folds parted, revealing her sex to Stephanie’s eager gaze.
Creamy liquid was already oozing from Jenny’s hole, and her clit was swelling more and more by the second. Dipping a finger into the seeping juices, she spread it liberally over Jenny’s clit. Then she went back for more, slipping a single digit deep inside, getting it nice and wet. She pumped it a couple of times, then slid it out of Jenny’s pussy, only to move her hand lower.
I’m also giving away a couple of awesome prizes. Use the Rafflecopter below to enter, then head back to Blissekiss After Dark to check out all the other fab excerpts and enter to win more prizes.
New Release: Angel Laird Vampire Wife by Suz De Mello
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?
Available from:
http://tinyurl.com/VampireWife (USA)
*****
Chapter One
Kilburn Castle, Scotland
1766
Some said that Edgar, Laird MacReiver, had made a deal with the devil. And not just an ordinary deal, for he’d agreed to marry the devil’s daughter.
Lacking a superstitious cast of mind, he’d never regretted his decision to ally with Clan Kilburn until this moment. Atop the battlements, he disregarded the noontime sun glittering over the sea, the fresh spring breeze off the water and the white clouds scudding through the sky. Instead, he watched the scene below him.
Down in the castle courtyard, a young woman struggled with a horse. Not just any young woman. She’d been betrothed to him before her birth. And not just any horse. Isobel, now eighteen, grasped the bridle of Ranger, a buckskin stallion, the pride and joy of Edgar’s heart.
She wrestled with a reluctant Ranger before swinging long legs clad in trews over the steed’s back. Clinging to his mane, she somehow kept her seat while the stallion curvetted and spun. Her hat flew off and her braid loosened, the black hair whipping ‘round as Ranger sought to dislodge her.
Another neigh and a leap before the horse dashed out of the open gate. His hooves clattered on the drawbridge as he galloped over the moat. Isobel clung to his back like a flea unwilling to give up its perch on a dog.
“I ordered her not to ride Ranger,” Edgar said with some disbelief and more resentment. “He’s too big for her. And he’s young, not quite broken. The only rider he tolerates is me.”
“Our Isobel is a bold horsewoman.” Kieran Kilburn cocked a dark brow at Edgar. “She doesna like to admit that there’s a steed on this earth that she canna master.”
Though nearing his fiftieth year, the Kilburn chieftain hadn’t sprouted even one gray hair. No wrinkles marred his smooth, unusually white skin, save those that were the product of his constant smile. All the Kilburns shared the same traits: tall and strong, with midnight black hair and eyes. In comparison Edgar often had felt like a little white mouse, at least until he grew and the lassies started to take an interest in his fair hair and blue eyes. Then he’d realized that his different looks were an advantage.
An advantage, that is, with everyone but Isobel.
“She obeys you.” The wind loosened the leather thong tying Edgar’s hair at the nape. He tightened it. “Why not me?”
Kier’s eyes twinkled. “She obeys me, laddie, because I punish her when she does not.”
“May I borrow your Dash?” Frowning, Edgar turned to descend into the courtyard with Kieran following.
“Aye, but don’t count on Dash to catch his son.”
“We’ll do our best. Thank you, sir.” He handed his blue jacket to a guard and mounted the buckskin. “I go now to find my bride. I hope she’ll return suitably chastened.”
With a shrug, Kier folded his arms over his chest. “Ye ken what ye have to do.”
* * * * *
Edgar caught up with Isobel and Ranger in the forest. The horse now ambled rather than raced, the trees bordering the meadow surrounding the castle having slowed his flight. Edgar eased Dash into a walk and splashed through a brook while watching Ranger manage Isobel.
The stallion apparently decided that he no longer would tolerate even Isobel’s light weight and proceeded to use a low-hanging branch to scrape her off. She landed flat on her back with a grunt. Ranger headed toward the stream and the new green grass beside it, thank the gods, instead of trampling the silly wench under his hooves.
Her laughter could be heard even from several yards away. “La! What a ride! I’ll tame that mount yet.” She sat up and rubbed her back.
Still on horseback, Edgar towered over her. “The only mount who needs taming is you. No harm done, milady?” He was pleased that he kept a mild tone of voice, because inside he was seething.
“None.” She smiled up at him, her black eyes twinkling through the curtain of her lashes.
Bewitching, but he hardened his heart, determined that he’d not be led by the nose. He didn’t like managing females, and if he allowed her to rule him now, she’d rule him forever. “Whatever possessed you to steal Ranger?”
“I didn’t steal Ranger. I borrowed him.”
“Against my express wishes. If your clumsiness has harmed him, Isobel—”
“My clumsiness?” She leapt to her feet.
He gave her a long, cool stare before turning away. He chirruped to Ranger, who raised his head from the sweet grass by the stream. Still chewing, he walked sedately to Edgar.
He dismounted to caress his horse’s forehead before running his hands along the neck and body. Something hot and red billowed in Isobel’s chest. What was it? ‘Twas the same uncomfortable feeling she got when her younger brothers or sisters claimed too much of their parents’ attention. The same horrible emotion that overcame her when other lassies dared to flirt with Edgar…which happened more frequently than she liked.
Jealousy.
She was jealous of the attention Edgar was giving to a horse. A horse.
Bloody hell.
Removing his gloves, Edgar slid expert fingers up and down each of Ranger’s legs, paying particular attention to the delicate fetlocks.
She wondered how those long, tanned, strong fingers would feel if he touched her. When he finally touched her. So far he’d kept his distance even though they were affianced, a fact which she both liked and resented.
He straightened with a sigh. “No harm done. You were lucky this time, my girl.”
“Your girl? Since when am I your girl?”
He led the horse back to the stream and dropped the reins. Ranger drank placidly. Standing in the water with tail a’swish, he seemed completely unlike the wild beast she’d sought to tame. Dash joined him.
Edgar eyed the horses, then eyed her. “You’ve been mine since before you were born.”
“I mislike your manner, sir. I am yet unmarried. I belong to no man.”
“You belong to me.” He returned, looming over her, tall and blond and impossibly beautiful. The Angel Laird, the lassies called him. Well, they could have him.
“I willna be ordered. I willna be treated as though I’m a possession.”
He took her by the shoulders. “But you are.”
His mouth descended on hers while one hand seized the back of her head, holding her fast. She couldna resist, and didna want to, for she’d yearned for this moment.
*****
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.
October 19, 2012
Raising the Bar is Officially Released!
Today is the official release date for my super hot short story, Raising the Bar, which is part of Decadent Publishing’s The Edge series. To celebrate, I’m over at The Edge blog with a post on Sexy Spaniards, and you can also enter to win a copy of the book. So, what are you waiting for? Head over there quick!
Here’s more information on the book, in case you missed it:
When Kayleigh takes a gap year before starting University, she decides she’s going to stay away from guys and just concentrate on having fun and experiencing life. That means going through a lot of batteries, but she’s happy and satisfied.
That is, until she gets to Spain on her travels and meets her new co-worker, Luciano. The scorching hot Spaniard soon has Kayleigh’s knickers in a twist— literally—and the time they spend together seriously raises the bar for her sex life. How will any other man ever compare?
More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/raising-the-bar/***
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