Elise Hepner's Blog, page 13
November 26, 2012
New Writer's Week: Alexandra Christian
Blurb-a-Palooza with Lexxx ChristianBy Alexandra Christian
Well hey there kids! My name is Alexandra Christian, or Lexxx if you like, and I am a new writer of erotic paranormal romance. I’ve decided, since this blog is all about New Writers, to give you some blurbs to whet your appetite and let you know a little about me and what I do. My fiction has been called a bit unusual by some. I never liked romance as a younger woman because I always felt that the stories were so sickly-sweet, too good to be true. I just couldn’t relate to the characters, but I did like the hot-blooded romance aspect of it. I also loved those classic gothic romances in the style of Lord Byron and Wuthering Heights. So when I started writing, I was determined to write the kind of dark romance that I’d like to read. One that isn’t sickly sweet and unbelievable, but one with imperfect heroines and dangerous heroes. I’ve always loved anything paranormal and spooky, so paranormal romance seemed the way to go. Of course I couldn’t just stop there– I had to make sure that the story was laced with explicit scenes of really hot monkey-lovin’. Cuz well… that’s the most fun to write. So I’m going to give you an offering of some of my darkest paranormal romances and you can decide for yourself. Strange Bedfellows: Three to Tango :
“…vampires can be dangerous to your health.”A truer statement had never been uttered, but when Cali stumbled upon The Oubliette, she began to realize the wisdom in those words. Broken-hearted and bored, Cali’s life had become a string of TV dinners and romance novels. She wondered where her life was going until she followed the mysterious stranger through the red door and entered a world that few would ever know existed. A world of vampires, werewolves and pleasure beyond imagination. Within the walls of The Oubliette, Cali will embark on a dangerous and sensual journey of discovery that will change her life forever.
Sanguine Kiss : Vengeance is only the beginning…Gillian Thompson wants to end her life. Deserted by her lover and desperate for peace, she thinks that death is the only answer. But life never closes one door without opening a window. On a fateful night, the one that should be her last, she meets the dark and mysterious Seth, who seems to understand the depth of her pain. Rather than let her kill herself, he offers Gillian a new life beyond pain and regret. A life bathed in bloody kisses and bittersweet vengeance.
Second Skin : When Catherine Spencer meets the seductive Jack Leannan at her company dinner party, she could never have imagined how fast she’d fall for him. He’s everything her husband isn’t—older, confident, and highly sexual. He lures her under his spell with promises of passion beyond her wildest dreams, and she finds herself ready to give up everything. But Jack is no ordinary lover, and the secret he harbors could destroy her.
Masquerade :
“What’s your fantasy?”Blythe McLachlan had the perfect life until the night he said those three little words that could make or break a relationship. When Blythe tells her husband about her fantasy of a hot menage, he’s less than pleased. But when he drops her off at a mysterious masquerade ball, she findsthat the boundaries of love can be crossed and rules are made to be broken.
Hellsong : Can mercy be a sin?Lonely bookstore manager Theo Chandler lost herself in Hurricane Katrina. Found wandering alone in a swamp with no memory of her life before the storm, she has spent the last few years building a half-life where no one touches her so no one can guess her secret. Only Father Jerome, a voodoo priest who witnessed her birth, and the minions of Lucifer know her true identity and the monster she could become.As the last of the Grigori, Heaven’s guardians of humankind on Earth, the angel Saraquel should destroy beautiful Theo before the forces of Hell use her to destroy him, humanity, or even Heaven itself. But like Jerome, he sees the humanity in her that far outshines the hidden demon. He forms a connection to her that he has never known with anyone else through all his immortal life. Choosing to protect her, he joins Theo and Jerome in a fight to bring down hell’s design and save her human soul.
November 25, 2012
New Writer's Week: Tigris Eden
A big thank you to Elise for having me on her blog for New Writer’s Week.
I’m definitely a new writer. Although I’ve been writing for a while. I’ve enjoyed the journey to getting to where I am currently. The next step for me would be to write full time. I wanted to tell you all a little bit about a new project I’ve been working on with a group of ladies that I find highly enjoyable.
We’ve been working on our Romantic Tales: Bedtime Stories Season 1. Which will be completed on December 8th. Readers will be getting three great stories, from three different genres. There is Ty Langston's, paranormal series Crave, about werewolves in a rock band. There is also Riley Ross’s contemporary romance The Getaway Project, which has a healthy dose of comedy and drama.
My story is The Genesis Project which is a futuristic, sci-fi romance with some erotic overtones thrown in. Here's the blurb:
Old earth has been deemed unsuitable for life, New Earth is home. With the Uni-War over, races have joined together in order to sustain their way of life. All life was deemed worth saving, but only one race failed to submit. Humans.
Now extinct, humans are a thing of the past, or at least their way of life. The people of New Earth won’t acknowledge their hand in the human’s eradication, but they have benefited from it. Dr. Vaggo Blackmore has found the answer, he’s restored his races way of life- sustenance through farming. The one thing that will give them back their long lives….. Blood: human blood.
Biologically engineered in a lab, Genesis Blackmore has always been different. Her father has told her it’s due to her enhancements, the Federated Council sees her as a genetic mutation; and her fellow peers see her as the shiny new toy. Gen has had better days.
Everyone on New Earth has milky white skin, platinum blonde hair, and electric blue eyes. It’s the norm. Genesis’ glossy, black hair, ice blue eyes ringed by gold, would have almost made her socially acceptable- if it wasn’t for her honey, almond skin and blue, gold veins. In a sea of milky white she alone is the dark anomaly.
All Pars get their life’s nourishment through blood plasma. All Pars find their match through the tasting. Gen can do neither, forbidden by her father to do so. She can neither taste, nor be tasted. Something that’s never bothered her until now.
We’ve already published the first two episodes on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. We don’t like to call these stories serialized fiction as much as we’ve deemed them Episodes. There are even previews to let the reader know what to expect in the next installment.
Season 2 will be starting in February and with Season 2, will come new stories. The Genesis Project will become a standalone, continuing with Gen’s story in a complete novel. Ty Langston’s Crave will also be a standalone with her follow up story, Need. In Season 2, I will be introducing a story abut werewolves in Alaska, who live in a remote location. This will be a Paranormal Erotic Romance, and I am looking forward to introducing everyone to Victor and Nerina the book's main characters.
I also have a paranormal series The Shadow Unit with Book 1, Enslaved in Shadows and with Book 2, Burned In Shadows, coming out in end of Feb/Early March and the Author's Cut of Enslaved In Shadows will be out in print in January.
Here are some of the places you can find me: Other places you can find me: Website & BlogGoodreadsFacebookTigris Eden's Garden of Book BloggersThe Order's BlogLike Me on FaceBook
November 12, 2012
Rubberband Snap Fragile
I can't believe it's been so long since I started this blog. Back when I was tumbling head over feet and trying to get my degree while secretly dreaming and scrawling smut on the sides of term papers. The man I loved with a fierce passion is now mine--my husband--and yet I still possess all the crazy awkward, shy uncertainty of the years before now.
Every time something gets accepted it's no more a validation than it is a fluke.
Back when I started this blog I'd done every kind of research, buried myself in every anthology and book and marketing tome known to man. But, it wasn't personal enough. Well, it was personal. But I tried to be what my readers wanted, what was on trend, what would get me visits. And for so long I haven't cared a damn about that, that I've begun to wonder if people still do visit me for the same things, or are we all evolving together?
What do you need from me, readers? What do you want? I'm still going to give up the broken, uneven fragile bits of myself when I think to post and it's going to be messy, always, dripping between my fingertips like muddy, wet, sand--but is that enough for you? Do you like New Writer's Week and Share Sunday? I've tried various other methods of fun, quirky, weekly anthems on this blog, but the truth is, I'm kind of forgetful once I get into the mode of writing. So they fall along the wayside.
But NWW is something I'm very much enjoying. It's something I've got scheduled for a long way out.
Should I keep it coming?
When I first started this blog it was so very different, now that it's more me spewing everything at you I'd like a little spewege back, what do you think? Too many questions?
Too bad. And thanks for reading all these years.
Every time something gets accepted it's no more a validation than it is a fluke.
Back when I started this blog I'd done every kind of research, buried myself in every anthology and book and marketing tome known to man. But, it wasn't personal enough. Well, it was personal. But I tried to be what my readers wanted, what was on trend, what would get me visits. And for so long I haven't cared a damn about that, that I've begun to wonder if people still do visit me for the same things, or are we all evolving together?
What do you need from me, readers? What do you want? I'm still going to give up the broken, uneven fragile bits of myself when I think to post and it's going to be messy, always, dripping between my fingertips like muddy, wet, sand--but is that enough for you? Do you like New Writer's Week and Share Sunday? I've tried various other methods of fun, quirky, weekly anthems on this blog, but the truth is, I'm kind of forgetful once I get into the mode of writing. So they fall along the wayside.
But NWW is something I'm very much enjoying. It's something I've got scheduled for a long way out.
Should I keep it coming?
When I first started this blog it was so very different, now that it's more me spewing everything at you I'd like a little spewege back, what do you think? Too many questions?
Too bad. And thanks for reading all these years.
November 11, 2012
The Blank, Thinking Hole
Sometimes I read books that make my mind not so secretly churn, for days, on every hitch of their plot and gnaw on the gristle of each character and their flaws. Most often this response is elicited by those authors I yearn to be like--to emulate and form some kind of version that's half them, half me. I'm not a copycat, but when ghost's of phrases pile up in my brain so that I can barely put words on the page myself, I want to be.
Days after reading I still find myself with wet eyes for no reason. Stubborn, I push back the odd emotion for unreal people and move onto the next book. But it's no good. My thoughts are always analyzing, wondering, and sometimes wishing for a better outcome for all involved in the last book reading massacre.
It's these precious, never letting go of my heels, moments that I think I take for granted. That remind me why I love to read and make me wonder why I don't make more time. When my inspiration is at it's peak level but I don't feel like I can formulate a sentence past my emotional pain let alone construct a plot or multiple sentences.
I hope someday to be that faraway thought in someone's mind while they go about their daily lives for days and all they can think about when it comes to my work is--why?
Not the why that says the story didn't fir together. Not the why that means that readers weren't satisfied with the ending. But the all-encompassing why that makes you take a quick look around, huddle back into your shell, and hope no one noticed that for one skip of a second, you questioned your world with more clarity than most humans are want to do because of people that only exist on paper.
But maybe it's just me.
Days after reading I still find myself with wet eyes for no reason. Stubborn, I push back the odd emotion for unreal people and move onto the next book. But it's no good. My thoughts are always analyzing, wondering, and sometimes wishing for a better outcome for all involved in the last book reading massacre.
It's these precious, never letting go of my heels, moments that I think I take for granted. That remind me why I love to read and make me wonder why I don't make more time. When my inspiration is at it's peak level but I don't feel like I can formulate a sentence past my emotional pain let alone construct a plot or multiple sentences.
I hope someday to be that faraway thought in someone's mind while they go about their daily lives for days and all they can think about when it comes to my work is--why?
Not the why that says the story didn't fir together. Not the why that means that readers weren't satisfied with the ending. But the all-encompassing why that makes you take a quick look around, huddle back into your shell, and hope no one noticed that for one skip of a second, you questioned your world with more clarity than most humans are want to do because of people that only exist on paper.
But maybe it's just me.
November 5, 2012
Zombies, Lesbians, and Author Support, Oh My!
First off, awesome of awesomeness, Coming Together: Hungry for Love, the zombie anthology that I'm in edited by the incomparably epic awesome, Sommer Marsden, is now in paperback for only 10 bucks. Get your copy HERE and support the Association for Diabetes. You bet I'm getting my copy.
Next up on the agenda is to let you know my lesbian menage novella, Finger Paintings, is now .99 cents on Amazon for Kindle. That's over 55 pages of smutty, feminine goodness for less than a doughnut at Dunkin. Go gets it before it's gone!
My last item pertains to helping out the author community. If you're so inclined and you have a free second, check out this article on helping authors. How To Support An Author is a good start to helping me and my friends be able to write another day without worry that the rug will be swept out from under us. Every little bit helps in this business and I cherish every ounce of good will I get from you guys. You don't have to buy my books to help me succeed.
Thanks for everything and until next time! Watch out New Writer's Week Part Two which will be coming to my blog the last week of November into the first week of December. And then another Share Sunday.
P.S. Got some kick ass acceptance news I'll be able to fill you in more about when the contract is in my hot little hands.
P.P.S. I also just signed a contract for a two story lesbian novella anthology by me for Xcite!
Next up on the agenda is to let you know my lesbian menage novella, Finger Paintings, is now .99 cents on Amazon for Kindle. That's over 55 pages of smutty, feminine goodness for less than a doughnut at Dunkin. Go gets it before it's gone!
My last item pertains to helping out the author community. If you're so inclined and you have a free second, check out this article on helping authors. How To Support An Author is a good start to helping me and my friends be able to write another day without worry that the rug will be swept out from under us. Every little bit helps in this business and I cherish every ounce of good will I get from you guys. You don't have to buy my books to help me succeed.
Thanks for everything and until next time! Watch out New Writer's Week Part Two which will be coming to my blog the last week of November into the first week of December. And then another Share Sunday.
P.S. Got some kick ass acceptance news I'll be able to fill you in more about when the contract is in my hot little hands.
P.P.S. I also just signed a contract for a two story lesbian novella anthology by me for Xcite!
November 4, 2012
I've done it, completed my mission, where's my chocolate?
Furious Lust is into the publisher. All 82k of it. My little novella at 25k gave me a little shock when it wanted to tack on an extra couple hundred pages and now it's the longest thing to date that I've written, aside from the books that will never see the light of day. Perhaps I'll write long more often? It's a possibility. We'll see where this road may take me.
For now I'm working on an R&R, starting a new project that's proving super fun and not normally my style, and writing Book 2 in the Fury Sisters Series. It'll be anthology-palooza here in the next few weeks because I have several coming out all relatively in the same span of time. So pardon my new release madness ahead of time.
Until then, I bash at the keyboard until words come out. Need more tea.
For now I'm working on an R&R, starting a new project that's proving super fun and not normally my style, and writing Book 2 in the Fury Sisters Series. It'll be anthology-palooza here in the next few weeks because I have several coming out all relatively in the same span of time. So pardon my new release madness ahead of time.
Until then, I bash at the keyboard until words come out. Need more tea.
October 29, 2012
So far, so good..
Frankenstorm has hit us with a lot of wind and a lot of rain, but so far we still retain power, for now. We're thinking that's going to end fairly soon so husband got us junk food provisions that we don't have to cook for the next couple of days. I sit snuggling with my kitten, an afghan, and munching on chocolate mini doughnuts as I type this post.
But, in case I do lose power, there is awesome news before power loss!
Hungry for Love is officially out early because of Frankenstorm! Sale proceeds go to the American Diabetes Association and this book has my first and probably only zombie short story in it entitled The Tenderest Meat. HERE is every kind of buy link for every device for Hungry for Love in our lovely editor's blog post.
Sommer Marsden is awesome, as an aside, read her stuff NOW.
But, in case I do lose power, there is awesome news before power loss!
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Hungry for Love is officially out early because of Frankenstorm! Sale proceeds go to the American Diabetes Association and this book has my first and probably only zombie short story in it entitled The Tenderest Meat. HERE is every kind of buy link for every device for Hungry for Love in our lovely editor's blog post. Sommer Marsden is awesome, as an aside, read her stuff NOW.
October 28, 2012
Frankenstorm: Revenge of the Snow
I may or may not be without power right now due to the epic storm that is supposed to hit thirty minutes away from me--the eye of the storm, that is. So if you don't hear from in the coming week after New Writer's Week has come to an end, that's why. I'll be back online eventually, if I don't get the shakes and start going crazy from lack of internet so they have to commit me.
But, I have over 8 books in a series I want to read. So...Frankenstorm good? Might force me away from work and back into fiction land. We'll see.
But, I have over 8 books in a series I want to read. So...Frankenstorm good? Might force me away from work and back into fiction land. We'll see.
Share Sunday: Furious Lust
Today I'm doing a fun little thing I like to call Share Sunday where I share something from my current work in progress or a book that is coming soon or already out. Depends on what my week looks like as to what you'll get from me. But right now, here's a tidbit from my soon to be submitted rough draft paranormal erotic BDSM novel, Furious Lust:
Though I was completely stripped of my powers as a demonness, on nights like this I wouldn’t turn away from my intuitive caution. And this wasn’t the first time I’d sensed this presence. No one had any specific reasons to keep me alive. At least none that they’d made plain to me—so as far as I knew, anyone could hunt me down, at any time, with one word from the council. How would I defend myself?
The whole situation set my teeth on edge. Pulses of pain jolted up my jaw as I attempted to regain control over my trembling fingers, fidgeting along the warm, steel bar. A man knocked against me from behind and I held my tongue. It took all my patience to not jump out of my skin. By now my fingers were numb from my grip and my toes curled against the tips of my shoes.
How could I have been drawn into coming undone? I—who prided myself on the steady speed and dexterous delights my hands could wield along a man—I have been reduced to a wary, thundering-hearted ninny. Before my punishment, my blazing anger knew no bounds. Now time had taught me caution, patience, and above all, fear.
A bodily impulse to hide, protect myself, born of self-preservation that I wouldn’t be able to leave behind until I was free of Earth. And perhaps, not even then. Tonight ignoring the sensation was worth a try. I wouldn’t let this awkward fear swallow me when my time was as fleeting as the Underworld council’s choices.
The dry crackle of the conductor called out the 14th street stop and I hastily exited the car knowing that my actual destination was several blocks away. A small walk would do me good. At least I wouldn’t be so smothered by people that I couldn’t think straight. It was too much to hope for to think that I’d left whoever had been watching me behind on the train.
No, life has not been easy and I’d grown weary of it.
I had dodged an imaginary foe for months. One of the topics I’d planned to bring up at my meeting, because the mental torment couldn’t be anything other than a new torture device devised by Hades. I was a pawn, nothing more. My skin pinched tight against my frame as if I couldn’t shake a chill. Even swathed in the muggy atmosphere of the underground station in mid-July—there was not enough heat to warm me.
For now, I no longer sensed the steady stare beating against my back. A small favor. But every clack of my high heels against the concrete echoed between my ears as if it were a gun shot. I couldn’t move quickly enough through the tiled, harsh yellow lit station. Not when tonight was a good night for mischief. No telling what was out there.
Though I was completely stripped of my powers as a demonness, on nights like this I wouldn’t turn away from my intuitive caution. And this wasn’t the first time I’d sensed this presence. No one had any specific reasons to keep me alive. At least none that they’d made plain to me—so as far as I knew, anyone could hunt me down, at any time, with one word from the council. How would I defend myself?
The whole situation set my teeth on edge. Pulses of pain jolted up my jaw as I attempted to regain control over my trembling fingers, fidgeting along the warm, steel bar. A man knocked against me from behind and I held my tongue. It took all my patience to not jump out of my skin. By now my fingers were numb from my grip and my toes curled against the tips of my shoes.
How could I have been drawn into coming undone? I—who prided myself on the steady speed and dexterous delights my hands could wield along a man—I have been reduced to a wary, thundering-hearted ninny. Before my punishment, my blazing anger knew no bounds. Now time had taught me caution, patience, and above all, fear.
A bodily impulse to hide, protect myself, born of self-preservation that I wouldn’t be able to leave behind until I was free of Earth. And perhaps, not even then. Tonight ignoring the sensation was worth a try. I wouldn’t let this awkward fear swallow me when my time was as fleeting as the Underworld council’s choices.
The dry crackle of the conductor called out the 14th street stop and I hastily exited the car knowing that my actual destination was several blocks away. A small walk would do me good. At least I wouldn’t be so smothered by people that I couldn’t think straight. It was too much to hope for to think that I’d left whoever had been watching me behind on the train.
No, life has not been easy and I’d grown weary of it.
I had dodged an imaginary foe for months. One of the topics I’d planned to bring up at my meeting, because the mental torment couldn’t be anything other than a new torture device devised by Hades. I was a pawn, nothing more. My skin pinched tight against my frame as if I couldn’t shake a chill. Even swathed in the muggy atmosphere of the underground station in mid-July—there was not enough heat to warm me.
For now, I no longer sensed the steady stare beating against my back. A small favor. But every clack of my high heels against the concrete echoed between my ears as if it were a gun shot. I couldn’t move quickly enough through the tiled, harsh yellow lit station. Not when tonight was a good night for mischief. No telling what was out there.
October 27, 2012
New Writer's Week: Lily Harlem
Hi Elise,
Thanks so much for inviting me over to your blog today, I’m thrilled to be here. Since we’ve only just met I’ll start by telling you a little about myself.
I live in the UK with Mr Harlem and several pets, all rescued, and when I’m not writing I love to walk on the beach, enjoy fine food and wine and, of course, read. I haven’t always been an author. I’m a trained nurse and worked for several years in a busy London trauma unit. The adrenaline ran high, the shifts were grueling and there was always something exciting going on. I loved it, but was happy to slow down when Mr H had a job offer way out of the city. That was when I became gripped by writing.
I attended a local creative writing course, as a way to make friends as much as anything as I wasn’t nursing any more, and one day I stumbled across a competition. It wasn’t any old competition, it was a creative writing contest, but more than that it was for a sexy story ‘something to get us hot and bothered’ it said on the entry guidelines. I hadn’t written anything saucy before, though I had read plenty of erotic romance. I blushed the whole way through writing Madam President. Eventually, after checking for spelling mistakes so many times my vision had blurred, I hit send.
I didn’t think much more of it, so you can imagine my surprise when a few weeks later I got a phone call to tell me I’d won first place! I was delighted, thrilled. Love Honey (the contest organisers) said ‘where on earth did you get that idea from?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, ‘I just thought who would be the most inappropriate couple to be having an affair and getting down and dirty at work?’ – the first female president of the USA and the British PM, in the Oval Office was what came to me. You can read the story for free on my website. It was a blast to write!
So that was how I became an erotic romance author, the genre found me! I then went on to have stories published in Best Women’s Erotica, Sex in the City and Orgasmic to name a few. Then I had longer stories contracted on both sides of the Atlantic with Ellora’s Cave and Total-E-Bound. That was when I really started writing, a lot, and realised that I’d found a new career.
The great thing about writing for me now is that I’m my own boss. Yes I have deadlines for edits and manuscripts, but I can take time off whenever I need to. Write during whichever part of the day suits me – sometimes I like to sit in my pyjama’s drinking tea in the morning, other times I prefer to wait to the end of the day, light the fire, sip a glass of wine and then let the story flow from my fingertips.
Often I write ménage a trois novels, in fact I blog twice monthly on When One Is Not Enough. I really enjoy the dynamics of three people in a relationship. It’s not just the bedroom scenes that are enormous fun to dream up, it is also the way in which a threesome works on an everyday basis, within the home and within society. My first full-length book at Ellora’s Cave was Shared . Shared is a M/F/M story set in Cardiff, Wales. The characters are all damaged, honest and very much need one another. I had lots of great reviews for this book and so decided to write the sequel, Shared Too . That novel took on more complex issue within the happy threesome. I posed the question of what happens when someone in the relationship wants a little bit more? Want to be shared, too. Reviews were mixed for this book, some people didn’t like the happy ever after being rocked, others had issues with another person coming into the relationship. But overall it went down well and it was something I had to write, because not only do people not always behave as they should, equally no marriage/relationship runs along on an even keel year after year. Every couple, or threesome, has rocky moments, problems they have to face, battles to fight, and I wanted to work through all of that in the ménage a trois situation.
My most recent release is also a ménage novel. Its called The Glass Knot and is available on Amazon.
Again I played around with what is normally expected in these books and used a happily married gay couple as the foundation for the story. A woman, Laura, is then introduced into the relationship by one of the men and… actually it is probably easier for you to read the blurb.
What’s a girl to do when the guy she falls for is married to another man?
This is exactly what happened to me. Seeing Josh Kendal stroll out of the Mediterranean Sea wearing tight navy swim trunks and looking like a hot new James Bond was a truly delicious moment. Catching sight of his wedding ring was like a kick in the shin and meeting his gorgeous husband, phew, that was enough to make any girl groan at the cruel joke God was playing on her.
But all was not as it seemed, and when Josh needed a woman to sort out a ‘delicate predicament’ I was the one for the job – heck, what did I have to lose? Certainly not as much as him, literally.
Trouble is, emotions always get tangled, loyalties can’t help but be divided and with a night of memories so hot they'd have the devil sweating, there was only one thing for it—it was time to get honest, fight for what I wanted despite society’s constraints and open my heart to the people it needed most.
I really enjoyed writing The Glass Knot, partly because I ended up with two heart-stoppingly gorgeous heroes, but also because again, I was tackling something that was a little out there, a bit different and I do love a challenge! Also I set the story, in the majority, in the beautiful Cotswolds, so whilst I was writing I really did feel like I was there amongst the rolling hills and the gorgeous sandstone cottages. I adore visiting this part of the UK and often Mr H and I book a bed and breakfast and go walking there. The cute country pubs are just lovely and there is such a nice relaxed pace of life.
So what am I up to now? Well I’m busy on edits for Teamwork (yep, another ménage) which is the 4th book in my Hot Ice series. Hot Ice is all about the sinfully bad, but deliciously good boys of the ice! These books are stand alone novels but if read in sequence the hero of the next book is introduced briefly in the previous one. They are seriously sexy, very romantic and the strong women who tame these athletes are my favourite sort of heroines.
Also I’m eagerly awaiting a release date for a co-author – written with the ever awesome Natalie Dae called Anything For Him. This is my first book with Mischief at Harper Collins and I’m very excited.
Next month sees my first illustrated story hit the shelves. It’s in an anthology called The 7 Deadly Sins, and will be published by Sweetmeat Press. The 7 Deadly Sins anthology came about very late at night over several bottles of wine in a hotel in Bristol, UK. I was with six other Brit authors, chatting about our day at Eroticon (a conference for writers and bloggers of erotica) and we had an idea to each take a deadly sin and write a story about it, compiling them all into an anthology – I got Envy, yay! – Sweetmeat Press then loved the idea and offered to illustrate the stories. I’m so looking forward to seeing my naughty tale come to life in a picture. It’s going to be off the scale hot!
I love to hear from readers and other authors. Feel free to follow me on Twitter, Pinterest, or befriend me on Facebook. Here are my links
Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/
Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/
Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/lily_harlem
Facebook http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Lily-Harlem/100003519563064
Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lily-Harlem-author-page/200182030094568
Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/
Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem
And I will leave you with an excerpt from Scored which is a sexy soccer novel starring the captain of the England football team. This point in the book is when Nicki and Lewis have arranged a secret meeting in the Cathedral in Donetsk, prior to his match.
Blurb for Scored
Okay, so I eat, sleep and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what’s not to lust after?
So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England’s battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate’s attention my way, who am I to say no?
Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, its clear no one else will ever compare.
Excerpt
“Oh, it is you,” I said on a sigh and sat down.
He removed his glasses. “Well if you had to get this close to realize then my crude attempt at disguise is obviously working.” His voice was low and hushed.
“I thought you might be a tramp or something, having a snooze.” I spoke equally quietly.
“I’m sure Gucci would love to know that about their new range of casual sportswear.” He smiled and his face softened. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Not bad.” He glanced at the gap between us. “Better if you would sit closer.”
I slid my bum along the wood until my shoulder brushed his. He reached for my hand, held it, palm up, and traced a circle at the center.
Renewed longing sped through me as I was treated to a flashback of him holding my breast. How he’d touched me with just the right amount of pressure, tweaked my nipple with just the right degree of tension. How we’d been so rudely interrupted…
I tried and failed to suppress a small sigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. How did you get on with Fellows? Did he buy your story about you being in the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I think so, but he’s keeping a pretty tight rein on everyone at the moment. He’s a goddamn control freak.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
“That’s very understanding of you, considering.”
“Considering what? The way he spoke to me in the bar or the way he made you leave just when things were getting hot between us.”
He raised one brow. “Things were getting pretty hot, weren’t they? I left feeling like a man in the desert who’d just had his water bottle taken away.”
“I know what you mean.” I looked at his legs, his thick strong thighs resting over the seat of the pew, his jeans a little faded in all the right places. “When are you going to Kiev?”
“Later today. We’re flying up. You?”
“I’m catching the evening train. I’ve got some cheap place booked once I get there. Should be okay just for two nights. I’m there to see you thrash Sweden not wallow in luxury.”
“I wish I could get you into our hotel.”
I rested my other hand on his forearm, felt hard tendons and heat beneath the super-soft material of the hoody. “I think we were lucky to get what we had. I knew it wouldn’t take long for them to move you back into your suite.”
“It’s nice, the new room. Perhaps you’d like to see it when we get back to Donetsk.”
“And how would I be able to do that?” I couldn’t keep the incredulousness from my tone.
He paused for a second. Cocked his head. “You forget, Nicky, I am a man who gets what he wants.”
I swallowed tightly. The determination in his eyes, the way his jaw had set, sent a thrilling shiver of anticipation through me. “And you want…?”
He stroked the back of his index finger down my cheek then threaded his fingers into my hair and held the back of my head. “I want you, Nicky. Don’t you get that? I want you with me, next to me, in my bed, in my pool. I want to get to know everything about you.”
An emotion scarily like fear bubbled within me. This dream was just too perfect. I didn’t want it to pop. It would send me reeling, tumbling into oblivion. I wasn’t sure how I would pick up the pieces. Who would ever compare to Lewis Tate? Was I being crazy to listen to him speak this way? Making me feel like I was the only girl for him?
I had to know. The sooner it was out in the open the better. Because the longer I let him make me believe I was special the harder it would be when I realized I didn’t mean anything to him. “But why? Why would you want me when you can have anyone? There are a million women out there who would happily throw themselves at your feet”
He frowned. “But I don’t know them and I don’t care about them.”
“But how can you not?”
“Because you’re the first real woman I’ve met in a long time. You’re not pretending to be something you’re not and that appeals to me.” He leaned closer, his cologne infiltrating my nostrils and threatening to remove my ability to think straight. “A lot.”
“But I’m just Nicky Thomas, sports journalist. I come from Stoke and have a middle-class, unremarkable background. Why would someone as amazing as you, with all your footballing credentials, want me?”
He shook his head and appeared bemused. “What does football have to do with me admiring your professionalism, being comfortable with who you are and fighting for what you want?” He paused. “You do still like me, don’t you?”
I nodded. Unable to trust myself to speak and gush about just how much I liked him. How much I would like to cover him in whipped cream, sprinkles and chocolate drops and spend an entire day eating it off him.
“Good,” he said. “Because if you can just cope with this craziness for a little while longer, in few weeks the tournament will be over and we won’t have to sneak around.”
“You mean—”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Yes, honey, I mean this is just the start of something. Well, it is for me anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone who’s been my last thought as I’ve gone to sleep and my first thought each morning.”
Oh, fuck. Now he’s got me.
I became a puddle of romantic ideals falling toward him. Didn’t he know what kind of effect sentiments like that had on a girl? I reached for his shoulders, pressed my body to his and allowed him to kiss me into a stupor of longing. He was my every thought too. When I wasn’t with him I was thinking about being with him and when I was with him I just couldn’t get close enough.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and held me firm as he kissed and explored my mouth. I let him in and melted under his touch. The way he was clasping me was so possessive, so masculine and dominant. Little thought kernels of what he could do to me, how he could make me feel, in bed, began to pop like candy in my belly. Imagine if he held me like this when he…
Oh, sweet Jesus. I was getting turned on again. Shit, and in a holy place.
Lewis groaned and sent kisses across my cheek, tugged my hair firmer so my head tipped, then licked and nipped at my neck. Lust shot to my pussy. It was like there was a wire from the skin on my neck to my clit and his attentions sent white-hot streaks of pleasure zapping down it.
“Lewis,” I murmured, trying to move my head but unable to. I discovered that far from feeling frustrated I reveled in the hold he had on me. That fact that I couldn’t move and he was doing what he wanted to my neck was a massive turn-on.
“Ah, honey, I could have fucking killed Fellows the other night. Walking away from you took every ounce of control I had.”
His breath was scalding hot against my flesh and I shivered with pleasure at his heated words.
“It was okay for you, though,” he went on.
“What do you mean?”
He released the grip on my head and brought my face level with his. “I think you know.”
I swallowed. I did know.
“You used it, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“Don’t act coy.” A slow smile spread on his face. “Because it makes me so horny to imagine you using your vibrator and thinking of me.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out.
He took full advantage and kissed me again. This time he slipped his hand up my top and cupped my breast over the new bra.
I pressed closer for more. Why did we have to be fully clothed and in a cathedral? Right now I would sell my soul to be naked in bed with him and no other person for a hundred miles around.
“I can just imagine you,” he said, tweaking my nipple through silk. “Lying on the bed, legs spread, that buzzing shaft penetrating your sweetness, getting you off, making you pant and sweat.” He paused. “Did you think of me?”
Fuck yes.
“Tell me,” he whispered, “Please, I want to know.”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
I felt his body tense and his shoulders hitched, like he was pulling in a deep breath. “And did you say my name?” He switched his attentions to the opposite breast.
“Yes, over and over.”
He fluttered his eyes shut and let out a long deep sigh. “Oh, fuck, that mental image of you is so hot,” he muttered.
“Lewis Tate,” I said in a scolding whisper. “You’re a bad boy picturing such things in a holy place.”
His eyes pinged open and his gaze trapped mine. For a split second I thought he might grin. He didn’t. “Tell me you’re not thinking them too.”
“Yes, I am, but—”
“But the difference is you’re not going to have zipper marks permanently imprinted on your genitals.” He shifted on the seat. “Fuck, you make me so hard.” He shook his head and muttered, “So hard it hurts.”
That knowledge thrilled me utterly. “Is that so?” I ran my hand down over his chest, his abdomen, then settled it on the solid wedge of flesh at his groin that was pushing and straining against the denim.
“That’s not helping.” He moaned. His face twisted and his eyes screwed up tight.
“I know what will, though.”
Fuck. Had I really just said that? Double fuck. Had I really just thought that? I had, and it seemed I was the biggest sinner of the lot because I didn’t care. I wanted to act on my impulse. In fact, I wasn’t sure anything could stop me. Not now the need, the desire, had flooded my brain like a tsunami.
I tugged at the button on his jeans, freeing it with a quick flick of my wrist.
“Nicky,” he said, parting his lips on a pant. “What are you doing?” He opened his eyes. They were dark and smoky, their normally crystal-clear depths clouded with lust.
“I’m going to help you out with that zipper problem.”
You can read the first chapter of Scored HERE and the first two chapters of The Glass Knot on my blog.
Thanks so much for having me, it’s been fun!
Lily x
Thanks so much for inviting me over to your blog today, I’m thrilled to be here. Since we’ve only just met I’ll start by telling you a little about myself.
I live in the UK with Mr Harlem and several pets, all rescued, and when I’m not writing I love to walk on the beach, enjoy fine food and wine and, of course, read. I haven’t always been an author. I’m a trained nurse and worked for several years in a busy London trauma unit. The adrenaline ran high, the shifts were grueling and there was always something exciting going on. I loved it, but was happy to slow down when Mr H had a job offer way out of the city. That was when I became gripped by writing.
I attended a local creative writing course, as a way to make friends as much as anything as I wasn’t nursing any more, and one day I stumbled across a competition. It wasn’t any old competition, it was a creative writing contest, but more than that it was for a sexy story ‘something to get us hot and bothered’ it said on the entry guidelines. I hadn’t written anything saucy before, though I had read plenty of erotic romance. I blushed the whole way through writing Madam President. Eventually, after checking for spelling mistakes so many times my vision had blurred, I hit send.
I didn’t think much more of it, so you can imagine my surprise when a few weeks later I got a phone call to tell me I’d won first place! I was delighted, thrilled. Love Honey (the contest organisers) said ‘where on earth did you get that idea from?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, ‘I just thought who would be the most inappropriate couple to be having an affair and getting down and dirty at work?’ – the first female president of the USA and the British PM, in the Oval Office was what came to me. You can read the story for free on my website. It was a blast to write!
So that was how I became an erotic romance author, the genre found me! I then went on to have stories published in Best Women’s Erotica, Sex in the City and Orgasmic to name a few. Then I had longer stories contracted on both sides of the Atlantic with Ellora’s Cave and Total-E-Bound. That was when I really started writing, a lot, and realised that I’d found a new career.
The great thing about writing for me now is that I’m my own boss. Yes I have deadlines for edits and manuscripts, but I can take time off whenever I need to. Write during whichever part of the day suits me – sometimes I like to sit in my pyjama’s drinking tea in the morning, other times I prefer to wait to the end of the day, light the fire, sip a glass of wine and then let the story flow from my fingertips.
Often I write ménage a trois novels, in fact I blog twice monthly on When One Is Not Enough. I really enjoy the dynamics of three people in a relationship. It’s not just the bedroom scenes that are enormous fun to dream up, it is also the way in which a threesome works on an everyday basis, within the home and within society. My first full-length book at Ellora’s Cave was Shared . Shared is a M/F/M story set in Cardiff, Wales. The characters are all damaged, honest and very much need one another. I had lots of great reviews for this book and so decided to write the sequel, Shared Too . That novel took on more complex issue within the happy threesome. I posed the question of what happens when someone in the relationship wants a little bit more? Want to be shared, too. Reviews were mixed for this book, some people didn’t like the happy ever after being rocked, others had issues with another person coming into the relationship. But overall it went down well and it was something I had to write, because not only do people not always behave as they should, equally no marriage/relationship runs along on an even keel year after year. Every couple, or threesome, has rocky moments, problems they have to face, battles to fight, and I wanted to work through all of that in the ménage a trois situation.
My most recent release is also a ménage novel. Its called The Glass Knot and is available on Amazon.
Again I played around with what is normally expected in these books and used a happily married gay couple as the foundation for the story. A woman, Laura, is then introduced into the relationship by one of the men and… actually it is probably easier for you to read the blurb.
What’s a girl to do when the guy she falls for is married to another man?
This is exactly what happened to me. Seeing Josh Kendal stroll out of the Mediterranean Sea wearing tight navy swim trunks and looking like a hot new James Bond was a truly delicious moment. Catching sight of his wedding ring was like a kick in the shin and meeting his gorgeous husband, phew, that was enough to make any girl groan at the cruel joke God was playing on her.
But all was not as it seemed, and when Josh needed a woman to sort out a ‘delicate predicament’ I was the one for the job – heck, what did I have to lose? Certainly not as much as him, literally.
Trouble is, emotions always get tangled, loyalties can’t help but be divided and with a night of memories so hot they'd have the devil sweating, there was only one thing for it—it was time to get honest, fight for what I wanted despite society’s constraints and open my heart to the people it needed most.
I really enjoyed writing The Glass Knot, partly because I ended up with two heart-stoppingly gorgeous heroes, but also because again, I was tackling something that was a little out there, a bit different and I do love a challenge! Also I set the story, in the majority, in the beautiful Cotswolds, so whilst I was writing I really did feel like I was there amongst the rolling hills and the gorgeous sandstone cottages. I adore visiting this part of the UK and often Mr H and I book a bed and breakfast and go walking there. The cute country pubs are just lovely and there is such a nice relaxed pace of life.
So what am I up to now? Well I’m busy on edits for Teamwork (yep, another ménage) which is the 4th book in my Hot Ice series. Hot Ice is all about the sinfully bad, but deliciously good boys of the ice! These books are stand alone novels but if read in sequence the hero of the next book is introduced briefly in the previous one. They are seriously sexy, very romantic and the strong women who tame these athletes are my favourite sort of heroines.
Also I’m eagerly awaiting a release date for a co-author – written with the ever awesome Natalie Dae called Anything For Him. This is my first book with Mischief at Harper Collins and I’m very excited.
Next month sees my first illustrated story hit the shelves. It’s in an anthology called The 7 Deadly Sins, and will be published by Sweetmeat Press. The 7 Deadly Sins anthology came about very late at night over several bottles of wine in a hotel in Bristol, UK. I was with six other Brit authors, chatting about our day at Eroticon (a conference for writers and bloggers of erotica) and we had an idea to each take a deadly sin and write a story about it, compiling them all into an anthology – I got Envy, yay! – Sweetmeat Press then loved the idea and offered to illustrate the stories. I’m so looking forward to seeing my naughty tale come to life in a picture. It’s going to be off the scale hot!
I love to hear from readers and other authors. Feel free to follow me on Twitter, Pinterest, or befriend me on Facebook. Here are my links
Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/
Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/
Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/lily_harlem
Facebook http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Lily-Harlem/100003519563064
Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lily-Harlem-author-page/200182030094568
Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/
Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem
And I will leave you with an excerpt from Scored which is a sexy soccer novel starring the captain of the England football team. This point in the book is when Nicki and Lewis have arranged a secret meeting in the Cathedral in Donetsk, prior to his match.
Blurb for Scored
Okay, so I eat, sleep and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what’s not to lust after?
So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England’s battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate’s attention my way, who am I to say no?
Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, its clear no one else will ever compare.
Excerpt
“Oh, it is you,” I said on a sigh and sat down.
He removed his glasses. “Well if you had to get this close to realize then my crude attempt at disguise is obviously working.” His voice was low and hushed.
“I thought you might be a tramp or something, having a snooze.” I spoke equally quietly.
“I’m sure Gucci would love to know that about their new range of casual sportswear.” He smiled and his face softened. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Not bad.” He glanced at the gap between us. “Better if you would sit closer.”
I slid my bum along the wood until my shoulder brushed his. He reached for my hand, held it, palm up, and traced a circle at the center.
Renewed longing sped through me as I was treated to a flashback of him holding my breast. How he’d touched me with just the right amount of pressure, tweaked my nipple with just the right degree of tension. How we’d been so rudely interrupted…
I tried and failed to suppress a small sigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. How did you get on with Fellows? Did he buy your story about you being in the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I think so, but he’s keeping a pretty tight rein on everyone at the moment. He’s a goddamn control freak.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
“That’s very understanding of you, considering.”
“Considering what? The way he spoke to me in the bar or the way he made you leave just when things were getting hot between us.”
He raised one brow. “Things were getting pretty hot, weren’t they? I left feeling like a man in the desert who’d just had his water bottle taken away.”
“I know what you mean.” I looked at his legs, his thick strong thighs resting over the seat of the pew, his jeans a little faded in all the right places. “When are you going to Kiev?”
“Later today. We’re flying up. You?”
“I’m catching the evening train. I’ve got some cheap place booked once I get there. Should be okay just for two nights. I’m there to see you thrash Sweden not wallow in luxury.”
“I wish I could get you into our hotel.”
I rested my other hand on his forearm, felt hard tendons and heat beneath the super-soft material of the hoody. “I think we were lucky to get what we had. I knew it wouldn’t take long for them to move you back into your suite.”
“It’s nice, the new room. Perhaps you’d like to see it when we get back to Donetsk.”
“And how would I be able to do that?” I couldn’t keep the incredulousness from my tone.
He paused for a second. Cocked his head. “You forget, Nicky, I am a man who gets what he wants.”
I swallowed tightly. The determination in his eyes, the way his jaw had set, sent a thrilling shiver of anticipation through me. “And you want…?”
He stroked the back of his index finger down my cheek then threaded his fingers into my hair and held the back of my head. “I want you, Nicky. Don’t you get that? I want you with me, next to me, in my bed, in my pool. I want to get to know everything about you.”
An emotion scarily like fear bubbled within me. This dream was just too perfect. I didn’t want it to pop. It would send me reeling, tumbling into oblivion. I wasn’t sure how I would pick up the pieces. Who would ever compare to Lewis Tate? Was I being crazy to listen to him speak this way? Making me feel like I was the only girl for him?
I had to know. The sooner it was out in the open the better. Because the longer I let him make me believe I was special the harder it would be when I realized I didn’t mean anything to him. “But why? Why would you want me when you can have anyone? There are a million women out there who would happily throw themselves at your feet”
He frowned. “But I don’t know them and I don’t care about them.”
“But how can you not?”
“Because you’re the first real woman I’ve met in a long time. You’re not pretending to be something you’re not and that appeals to me.” He leaned closer, his cologne infiltrating my nostrils and threatening to remove my ability to think straight. “A lot.”
“But I’m just Nicky Thomas, sports journalist. I come from Stoke and have a middle-class, unremarkable background. Why would someone as amazing as you, with all your footballing credentials, want me?”
He shook his head and appeared bemused. “What does football have to do with me admiring your professionalism, being comfortable with who you are and fighting for what you want?” He paused. “You do still like me, don’t you?”
I nodded. Unable to trust myself to speak and gush about just how much I liked him. How much I would like to cover him in whipped cream, sprinkles and chocolate drops and spend an entire day eating it off him.
“Good,” he said. “Because if you can just cope with this craziness for a little while longer, in few weeks the tournament will be over and we won’t have to sneak around.”
“You mean—”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Yes, honey, I mean this is just the start of something. Well, it is for me anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone who’s been my last thought as I’ve gone to sleep and my first thought each morning.”
Oh, fuck. Now he’s got me.
I became a puddle of romantic ideals falling toward him. Didn’t he know what kind of effect sentiments like that had on a girl? I reached for his shoulders, pressed my body to his and allowed him to kiss me into a stupor of longing. He was my every thought too. When I wasn’t with him I was thinking about being with him and when I was with him I just couldn’t get close enough.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and held me firm as he kissed and explored my mouth. I let him in and melted under his touch. The way he was clasping me was so possessive, so masculine and dominant. Little thought kernels of what he could do to me, how he could make me feel, in bed, began to pop like candy in my belly. Imagine if he held me like this when he…
Oh, sweet Jesus. I was getting turned on again. Shit, and in a holy place.
Lewis groaned and sent kisses across my cheek, tugged my hair firmer so my head tipped, then licked and nipped at my neck. Lust shot to my pussy. It was like there was a wire from the skin on my neck to my clit and his attentions sent white-hot streaks of pleasure zapping down it.
“Lewis,” I murmured, trying to move my head but unable to. I discovered that far from feeling frustrated I reveled in the hold he had on me. That fact that I couldn’t move and he was doing what he wanted to my neck was a massive turn-on.
“Ah, honey, I could have fucking killed Fellows the other night. Walking away from you took every ounce of control I had.”
His breath was scalding hot against my flesh and I shivered with pleasure at his heated words.
“It was okay for you, though,” he went on.
“What do you mean?”
He released the grip on my head and brought my face level with his. “I think you know.”
I swallowed. I did know.
“You used it, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“Don’t act coy.” A slow smile spread on his face. “Because it makes me so horny to imagine you using your vibrator and thinking of me.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out.
He took full advantage and kissed me again. This time he slipped his hand up my top and cupped my breast over the new bra.
I pressed closer for more. Why did we have to be fully clothed and in a cathedral? Right now I would sell my soul to be naked in bed with him and no other person for a hundred miles around.
“I can just imagine you,” he said, tweaking my nipple through silk. “Lying on the bed, legs spread, that buzzing shaft penetrating your sweetness, getting you off, making you pant and sweat.” He paused. “Did you think of me?”
Fuck yes.
“Tell me,” he whispered, “Please, I want to know.”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
I felt his body tense and his shoulders hitched, like he was pulling in a deep breath. “And did you say my name?” He switched his attentions to the opposite breast.
“Yes, over and over.”
He fluttered his eyes shut and let out a long deep sigh. “Oh, fuck, that mental image of you is so hot,” he muttered.
“Lewis Tate,” I said in a scolding whisper. “You’re a bad boy picturing such things in a holy place.”
His eyes pinged open and his gaze trapped mine. For a split second I thought he might grin. He didn’t. “Tell me you’re not thinking them too.”
“Yes, I am, but—”
“But the difference is you’re not going to have zipper marks permanently imprinted on your genitals.” He shifted on the seat. “Fuck, you make me so hard.” He shook his head and muttered, “So hard it hurts.”
That knowledge thrilled me utterly. “Is that so?” I ran my hand down over his chest, his abdomen, then settled it on the solid wedge of flesh at his groin that was pushing and straining against the denim.
“That’s not helping.” He moaned. His face twisted and his eyes screwed up tight.
“I know what will, though.”
Fuck. Had I really just said that? Double fuck. Had I really just thought that? I had, and it seemed I was the biggest sinner of the lot because I didn’t care. I wanted to act on my impulse. In fact, I wasn’t sure anything could stop me. Not now the need, the desire, had flooded my brain like a tsunami.
I tugged at the button on his jeans, freeing it with a quick flick of my wrist.
“Nicky,” he said, parting his lips on a pant. “What are you doing?” He opened his eyes. They were dark and smoky, their normally crystal-clear depths clouded with lust.
“I’m going to help you out with that zipper problem.”
You can read the first chapter of Scored HERE and the first two chapters of The Glass Knot on my blog.
Thanks so much for having me, it’s been fun!
Lily x
