Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 419

Tilly Greene: The Best Gift

I think one of the best gifts is the one you don’t expect and I’ve been lucky enough to be on the received end of one.

Let me back up a bit.

I’m not a purse lady. On a daily basis I load up my pockets with what’s necessary, otherwise I don’t take it with me. If I’m traveling then I take a backpack so I can have my laptop with power cord at hand. The few times I’ve been abroad without my cutie to carry stuff for me I carried a sling type backpack.

It’s funny but I don’t normally carry a purse and if I do, they’re usually small and not appropriate. My cutie has actually bought me all but one of my purses. The brown one was from my mom gifted decades ago, yes, DECADES! The red one doesn’t zip closed and so he happily bought the blue one which does. It’s bigger and I can carry my laptop in it and load it up so I nearly break my back from the weight – oops. The last one was gifted to me a few Christmas ago by the cutie. He gave a hot pink gem that is small, holds a Coke and my phone, and only snaps closed. I need to admit security is his thing, not mine, but I pay attention now and again.

One day last year we went shopping so I could point out birthday ideas and he took me to the purse section. I liked them, many were stunning, but none were for me until I laid eyes on one in particular.

I picked it up, held it on my forearm and then in my hand, and wow. It felt so right. I tried the zippers, checked inside to see what it had in the way of pockets, and dang … it was perfect for me.

My birthday wasn’t for two weeks and the cutie was going on a trip until the day before my birthday. I didn’t forget about the purse, but I did put it from my mind while he was gone. After I picked him up at the airport we went back to the mall in a bid to keep him awake for a few hours. [That’s a trick we’ve taken on for our trips abroad. Make it until 8pm local time and then a half hour or later each night after. Most trips we have no problem and don’t have to do this, but coming home is always a tough transition.]

Anyway, we were walking through the mall and went back to look at the purses. It wasn’t there and I was little sad until the cutie handed over a receipt. He’d prepurchased the bag, and I now owned my Trophy Purse. I’m very careful with it and only use it in Spring/Summer as I don’t want the ugly weather to mark it in any way.

Okay, it’s time to share. What’s you favorite gift … your trophy item? Inquiring minds want to know.

My latest release is Branded, a collection of my contemporary western erotic romances. They all have BDSM and toys, some are multicultural and have ménage a trois, and one has some sensory deprivation. There are four books in the collection: Konnichiwa Cowboy, Giddy Up, Jon Black’s Woman and A Kinky Ride – the latter can only be found in Branded. Ride ‘em was the first in the Branded series and isn’t in the collection but can be found for $0.99 at Ellora’s Cave.

I adore my cowboys from Montana that are looking for a life behind bushes of roses and the white picket fence while enjoying BDSM with the woman they love. They’re all adorable and different. Their unique qualities make the catches but once they find the right lady, they cannot be steered away from getting them in their beds.

Thank you, Delilah, for giving me the time and space to share about my Trophy Purse and the Branded cowboys.

Tilly Greene

Scorching romances full of twists, turns and ties.

www.tillygreene.com

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Whether traveling or sitting in her office, Tilly Greene researches and writes erotica and erotic romance novels in a variety of genres and sub-genres like shape shifter, paranormal, contemporary and futuristics, and themes such as BDSM, multiculturalism and ménages.  Every day she looks forward to writing about women who are independent and confident, the men who love them, and their twisting passionate path to each other.

The Main Event (Contest)

So, I couldn’t think of a better title. I have two little-ish announcements and then I want to share another excerpt from next Tuesday’s new release. Hang in there!

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First, did you see the latest review in a string of GREAT reviews for Cowboy Heat? Night Owl Reviews gave the collection 5 stars and Top Pick, and says this: “Each story contained in this anthology is a reflection of high standards and terrific writing… You can’t get any better than these 15 fantastic western romances.” It doesn’t get any better than that, huh? Congrats to all the authors!

* * * * *

This week, SEALs of Summer hit the USA Today Bestsellers list at #22! And we have advance notice that the anthology hit the New York Times list that releases this coming week at #6 on the ebook list and #11 on the combined, print and ebook, list! Hitting both is a dream come true for any author!

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On Tuesday, May 6th, Her Only Desire will be released by Grand Central in both print and ebook! I don’t write full-length novels very often, so if you’ve been waiting for something longer, this is the one!

 

For fans of Sylvia Day and E. L. James, comes awarding-winning author Delilah Devilin’s first book in her sensual eroitic romance Sultry Summer Nights series.

A Sultry Summer Nights Novel

The moment Tilly Floret sees the sleek Bentley driving down Main Street, she knows trouble has arrived in her sleepy little town. A mysterious job posting keeps appearing at the diner where she works, and she can’t resist applying. No matter that the entire town of Bayou Vert is whispering about the wealthy, powerful man behind it all and his scandalous return home. The moment his ice-blue eyes meet hers, he ignites an all-consuming desire she never imagined possible, one she can’t deny.

Ex-navy SEAL Boone Benoit never thought he’d set foot in Louisiana again. As soon as Tilly starts her new job in his pleasure club, he senses a kindred soul. One who has carefully guarded secrets of her own-and a simmering hunger for the taboo rites of mastery and submission. The only difference is she doesn’t yet know it. Now as Boone tutors Tilly in the tantalizing world of leather and lace, she will shed her every inhibition and surrender to him, body and soul.

An excerpt from the book follows, but before we get to that, I did promise a contest!

Leave a comment on this post, and you’ll be entered to win a signed

copy of one of my Cleis Press collections—reader’s choice!

Excerpt from Her Only Desire…

Tilly awoke to the smell of burning wood and the sound of hushed voices outside her window. Her eyes smarted from the smoke. Fear clogged her throat.

She didn’t dare turn on her lights until she knew what was happening. So she felt around for her thin bathrobe, knotted it around her waist, and then made her way through the cottage to the front windows. Holding open two slats of the blinds, she stared in horror at one of the cabins across the square ablaze, sparks flying high into the air like fireflies.

Men surrounded it, holding hoses they used to wet the nearby ground and the surrounding cabins, but they pointed no water toward the burning cabin.

Everything seemed under control until her gaze found Boone, standing frozen in front of the gaping cabin door, watching the flames consume the structure.

Then she understood. Celeste had been found lying in one of the cabins on a dingy, blood-soaked mattress. That was all the detail the newspapers had given. Enough to fill her mind with images of a vivacious young woman who’d laughed while Tilly jumped on her bed, forever stilled. Although they were cousins, too many years lay between them for them to be close, but Celeste’s loss had changed everything.

Goose bumps raised on her skin. She wanted to sneak back to her bedroom and pretend she hadn’t seen a thing. But the sight of Boone, standing so still, his body rigid, hands fisted at his sides, made her stomach knot.

Her guilty secret made her feel slightly ill. She could ease his pain—shift the shame from his shoulders. All she had to do was come forward with her brother’s treasure box and the bracelet that hadn’t been found at the crime scene.

Watching him, standing so silently, with his grim-faced men giving him worried glances as they worked, her eyes burned more. She hurried back to her bedroom. Not wanting to think about what she was doing, she dressed in shorts and a tee, slid her feet into flip-flops, and hurried back to let herself out of the door. Flapping sounds echoed in the air as she passed Serge, whose lips tightened. She ignored the shake of his head, which told her to mind her own business. She passed Mr. Jones, who didn’t give away his opinion by so much as a movement or change in his harsh face. Ignoring everyone but the man whose rigid body stood like a silent sentinel, she sidled up beside Boone and cupped his balled fist in her hand.

His hand tightened more, but didn’t shake hers away. Desperate to keep hidden the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, she kept her gaze down and stood beside him as the roof groaned, then collapsed, sending sparks raining out the gaping door.

Only then did he act, his arm coming around her to urge her backward. Then he pulled her against his chest and cupped her head, his hand smoothing over her back.

Maybe he was only making sure none of the firefly-like embers hadn’t landed on her, but he held her close, his heart thudding against her cheek.

Slowly, so that he wouldn’t jerk away from her, she raised her arms, encircling his muscled torso. Providing comfort and finding some for herself. Her hands roamed his back as she snuggled closer to his chest and let her tears fall, wetting her cheeks and the front of his shirt.

At last, he inhaled deeply, the tension in his body draining away. A kiss landed on her hair, and she leaned back, wiping her tears away with her fingers then checking his expression and finding it haggard, ravaged. “I think your men can handle the rest,” she said softly.

Boone shook his head. “I don’t want them turning on the hoses until it’s ashes.”

The harshness of his voice nearly broke her heart. “I’m certain they understand.”

Boone dropped his gaze to hers. “Why are you here, Tilly?”

The hollowness of his gaze made her mouth tremble. For all his strength and accomplishment, he was still a man haunted by his past. “I’m here because I know what this place is…” She took a deep breath. “And I know you didn’t do it.”

His lips twisted. “There’s believing, and then there’s knowing. Which is it, Tilly?” he asked, his gaze sharpening as he studied her face.

Tilly quivered beneath his hard gaze but tilted up her chin. “I know,” she whispered, “but don’t ask me how.” Her gaze pleaded with his to leave her admission alone. She wouldn’t tell him any more.

His jaw firmed, but he nodded, pulling away. “You should go back inside.”

“There’s too much smoke.”

A dark brow rose. “Then you haven’t any choice. You’ll come with me to the Big House.”

Pressed close to his body, she didn’t miss the stirring of his sex against her belly. She dropped her head, staring at his throat, but gave him a nod.

He swallowed. “Serge…”

“Yes, boss,” Serge said from a few feet away.

“See it to the end?”

“Of course. We don’t need you here.”

Boone slipped an arm around Tilly’s waist, and turned, leading her away.

They followed the path, lit by moonlight.

Tilly had known this moment would come. From the first touch of his hand on her foot. She’d been drawn to him from the start. So tall and strong, so smart and accomplished, but inside, he was tormented, something she understood only too well. Pity and guilt didn’t have a thing to do with her surrender. She needed Boone every bit as much as she sensed he needed her.

Her heart tripped inside her chest, knowing she’d accepted an invitation for more than a place to rest while the fire continued to burn. She was ready to explore this tantalizing attraction they shared. Already, her skin felt on fire. Her breasts tightened. Her hips swayed, bumping against his, because she couldn’t contain the excitement curling in her belly.

She was going to his bed. She knew it. He knew it. What he’d do once he had her there… well, that was the mystery.

They climbed the back porch steps and entered through a door that opened to the servant’s staircase. He dropped his arm and grabbed her hand, pulling her up the steep stairs.

She didn’t bother giving even token resistance. She wanted this. Not to ease his pain or her guilt, but because she wanted to know what being with Boone was like.

Tonight, witnessing his raw emotions had humanized him. Boone might be hardened by the things that had happened to him, by war and his dangerous profession, but at his core, he was vulnerable to hurt and sorrow. For tonight, that was enough to know.

She’d revealed something, but he hadn’t pressed her. No doubt tomorrow, he’d think about it, and maybe redouble his effort to discover what she knew. But for now, he’d take what she offered instead. Comfort. Sexual release. She’d submit to him too, if it was what he needed.

She almost smiled, because he’d predicted this. He knew her in ways no other man had ever bothered trying.

He’d guessed the moment she’d balanced on one foot, curious to see what he would do.

They reached the upper floor and he headed left, unerringly finding his way in the darkness. At his bedroom door, he opened it, not bothering with the overhead light, but walking straight to the curtains and pulling them open. In the distance, over the roof of the foreman’s cottage, they could see the glow of the fire, but not the burning cabin itself.

Once again, he stood rigid, his hands on the window ledge. “Why are you here, Tilly?” he asked again.

“Because I want to be.”

His glance shot her way, taking note of her expression, which she masked, tilting up her chin.

His gaze went back the lit sky. “Undress. Take everything off. Do it behind me if it helps knowing I can’t see.”

Shock quivered through her and held her still for a moment. His harsh whisper frightened her with its coarseness, but part of her was relieved he was doing exactly what he’d said he would—demanding her submission. This wouldn’t be a romantic seduction. No sweet pauses to gauge whether he’d wooed her sufficiently to proceed. This was about raw need and desires about to be fulfilled. Somehow, her pride was salved by the fact she didn’t have to voice her agreement. Her role was simply to obey. So she stepped out of her sandals and fumbled with her clothes until she stood nude in the shadows behind him.

“Go to my bed. Slip between the sheets and wait for me.”

Nervous but also terribly excited, she couldn’t force words past the lump growing in her throat. But what would she have said? She was panting, her breaths so short and rasping, he had to hear. She walked to his bed, noted the rumpled bedding, and slipped between cool cotton sheets. When she glanced  back to the window, she saw he had turned  and was watching her. But for how long?

He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the ground behind him. Then he toed off his shoes, unbuttoned his pants, and drew down the zipper.

At the moment he shoved down his pants, she realized she hadn’t been breathing, and she gasped.

Not that she could see much of what he revealed. The fire glowing in the distance illuminated his shoulders, but shadow hid the front of his body.

He stepped away from his clothing, striding straight to the bed as he stared down at her figure. “Pull away the sheet, Tilly. It’s dark in here. Your modesty will be preserved.”

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, tossing back the sheet.

He reached down, and she held her breath, but he didn’t touch her. His fingers grasped the coverlet and sheet and pulled them to the end of the bed. Then he knelt on the edge of the mattress beside her.

Even a shadow couldn’t mask the desire in his eyes.

Her gaze snagged on his erection, which stood straight from his groin, rising nearly to the center of his belly. When she lifted her gaze, his teeth gleamed in a narrow, tight smile.

He bent over her, grasping her wrists and placing them beside her head. “Keep them here.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded—then gasped again as he set his big hands on her thighs. His palms smoothed up and down, the rasp of light calluses causing goose bumps to lift in their wake. He gripped her, pushed apart her thighs, and climbed on his knees into the space he made.

Now she was open, as vulnerable as woman could be. Tilly concentrated on her breaths, dragging them between her pursed lips, blowing them out in a slow steady stream to calm her racing heart.

But he only looked at her, his gaze caressing her breasts, her belly, the apex of her thighs. His fingers raked through the hair on her woman’s mound. “I’ll be shaving this.”

Her breath hitched at his touch, and then again at his words. When he tugged her short, curling hairs, she groaned because her sex tightened in reaction, and he could see.

A finger stroked the length of her slit, the moist sound seeming to please him, because again, his lips parted in a strained smile. He bent, landing his hands on either side of her shoulders, and then slowly lowered his body.

The first touch of his chest to hers, crisp curls rubbing against her sensitive nipples, made her shiver. When he lowered his hips and pressed his hot, hard cock against her belly, she closed her eyes, afraid she’d reveal too much of the pleasure washing through her.

“No hiding.”

She opened her eyes, staring back at him. He was resting on his elbows, bracketing her shoulders, their bodies mashed together. And all she could think was how much more of him she wanted.

He cupped one side of her cheek and rubbed his finger across her bottom lip. She stuck out her tongue and licked it, eyes widening when she tasted herself.

His head lowered, bringing the shadows with him. “There’s so much I want, sweetheart. So much I’ll do. If anything makes you afraid, don’t hesitate to ask me to stop. There’s nothing I consider taboo. Nothing I don’t want to touch or enter. With you, I’m finding it hard to hold back.” He bent closer and kissed her mouth, licking her bottom lip, and then eased his tongue inside her.

His kiss was more than just a kiss. It was a promise. A sensual threat. He controlled it, using his hands to hold her head still, his lips to seduce her into wanting to follow. His tongue invaded, licking at her lips, stroking her tongue, thrusting in a way and a rhythm that made her hips curl.

With his mouth and tongue, he drew from her emotions she found foreign—wonder at his thoroughness, sublime lethargy that left her feeling boneless. Heat licked at her breasts and sex, although he concentrated all his efforts on exploring only her mouth.

When he drew back, she blinked slowly, her gaze going straight to his lips and then rising slowly to lock with his darkly hooded gaze.

“I think… I’ll play with you later,” he murmured. “For now, I’ll keep this uncomplicated.”

“Uncomplicated? For whom?” she grumbled.

His chest shook against her as he chuckled. Then he dipped down and kissed her chin.

She tilted back her head, begging him silently for more. He gave it, sliding his lips down her throat, his tongue touching the pulse hammering there. Then he scooted down, kissing the tops of her breasts.

More than anything, she wanted to sink her fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to the aching tips of her breasts.

Boone didn’t make her wait, lips latching on one beaded tip and drawing on it, pulling it into his mouth, where he tortured it with flicks of his tongue.

Muscles tensing, her legs moved restlessly, widening beneath him. Moisture seeped from inside her, but he couldn’t know, could he? He wasn’t touching her there, where she needed him most.

He let go of her nipple and nibbled and sucked her skin, making his way across her chest to the other nipple.

When he bit the tip, she arched beneath him, groaning, aching for release.

He leaned on one elbow and cupped the breast he tortured, molding it in his large hand. Then his hand glided down her ribs, and lower still, fingers sliding into the top of her folds.

Heart pounding, her breath hitched and held as he pulled her nipple between his teeth and nibbled. His fingers swirled atop her cloaked clitoris.

Letting go of her breast, he glanced into her eyes. “No rules. No inhibitions, Tilly. Give yourself to me.” His fingers swirled and swirled, pausing now and then to gather the fluids seeping from inside her, then rubbing again, each slow circle tightening the desire coiling inside her.

She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t hide behind the sweep of her eyelashes. Locked in his gaze, held captive by his wicked fingers and the steady gleam of his darkened eyes, she began to writhe, thighs tightening and opening, her head turning side to side. Her breaths deepened, growing more ragged by the second.

When the moment arrived, she forgot to keep her hands at her head and reached desperately for his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin while her back arched and her moans grew louder.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Fly, sweetheart. Fly.”

Released by his words and the pressure of his fingertips, pleasure exploded, radiating outward from deep in her core, quivering through her limbs, curling her toes. Tilly’s cry cut off as she fell back, shattered, pleasure pulsing, rippling up and down her channel.

Fingers plunged inside her, twisting, finding a sensitive spot that wrested another wave of wicked pleasure. When she tumbled down, she lay sweating, the sheet wet beneath her bottom.

Boone kissed her belly, the top of her mound. When his tongue touched her clit, the caress soothed rather than taking her into that dark pleasure again. She sank her fingertips into his thick hair and rocked her hips, the motions slowing until she fell still.

He moved up the bed, turned her on her side and spooned his body behind hers. His arms wrapped around her, a tight-muscled embrace. He pressed a kiss against her cheek and simply held her.

Tilly waited breathlessly, eager and yet dreading what came next. Her breaths were still settling. Leaving her no way to pretend she’d suddenly fallen asleep. But what did one say at a moment like this? She’d given herself to a man she barely knew, one she couldn’t trust with her secrets.

And his cock was still rigid, poking against her bottom—no! Resting between her cheeks! Her breath hitched in her throat.

“It’s all right to sleep,” he drawled, his fingers rubbing along her arm.

Tilly sniffed. “I don’t need your permission.”

“But you need my cooperation.”

She heard a smile in his voice. “But you didn’t…”

“I had some satisfaction. I’ve learned a few things about you.”

Lisa Whitefern: Choosing What to Write About For Your Erotic Romance (Contest)

Thank you, Delilah for having me guest post for you! I love Delilah’s blog as it always has such a range of interesting people talking about reading and writing.

Today I’m blogging about how to choose a plot and theme for your erotic romance.  Do you get overwhelmed at times trying to make a choice about what to write about?

Firstly, obviously, you want a plot where sex plays an active role.. But you also know that you want your book to be about much more than sex.

You want a full romance arc and a meaty plot. You want story! You want a book with conflict and drama permeated all the way through with heat. You want to write a great book that gets readers talking! But how do you choose what to write about?

First grab yourself a note pad and start to brainstorm things you really love, consider what stirs your emotions, your passions and things you feel strongly about.

Consider what you love to read in other genres, outside erotic romance, erotica, and romance so that you can put your own unique spin on the tried and true. Do you love thrillers? Can you write a super sexy romantic suspense? Can you use your fascination with technology to write a futuristic or science fiction erotic romance?

I’ve always been a big fan of fairy tales and the fae, of Christmas, and of underdog stories so I combined all of these things in my novel Wicked Wonderland from Samhain Publishing.

What about other random interests you have? In my current WIP I focused on my interest in and love for lions and so decided to write a novel that includes a lion shifter. And in my 15K short story Waking the Witch was inspired by reading Arthur Miller’s The Crucible and seeing the movie.

The next step after brainstorming is to write a check list. Decide on the story’s primary “what if” question and solidify your protagonists’ central conflict.  Condensing each idea into a premise sentence can give you an idea of the viability of each potential project.

Research the market, but don’t be enslaved by it, there is always room to put your own spin on trends.

Think about what stirs you emotions. While readers don’t want to be preached to, they will be drawn in by writing that has emotional resonance and sometimes in order to find that emotional resonance you must draw deeply from within yourself.

Personally, I never start any story without identifying sources of conflict and thinking up a final resolution to the conflict.

Here is an excerpt from an early scene in Wicked Wonderland (highly commended in the Passionate Plume for Best Paranormal Romance.) where the heroine Lilly is in conflict with others. .

Sonya stopped by the trash cans, holding Lilly tightly around the waist from behind. Kandy grabbed hold of the chiffon on the front of her angel costume. Lilly shook and twisted violently to try to break their grasp, and part of her angel costume tore. “Let go of me, you assholes!”

She jabbed backward with her elbow, connecting with Sonya’s stomach, and heard the taller stripper gasp with momentary pain, but unfortunately, Sonya didn’t loosen her hold. “Oooooh! Rudolph’ll pay double for that!” Kandy exclaimed.

Lilly didn’t know why she did it. Maybe it was a way of dissociating from a horrible situation, maybe it was because her heart always ached to make music when she was in pain, but she began to hum, the sound starting low in her throat. She closed her eyes and played a flute in her head, filling her mind with a rich and clear melody, which, for a moment, took her right out of her nasty situation. Then a vicious pinch froze the sound in her lungs. Lilly twisted around enough to look up at Sonya. Something frightening had happened to Sonya’s face. It became very still, and the stripper’s eyes narrowed into slits that showed too much amber and almost no pupil, like the eyes of a snake or some other reptile. A sharp chill ran up Lilly’s spine.

“Don’t fucking hum.” Sonya spat out the words.

“Who cares if she hums? She’s just a weirdo,” Bambi interrupted. “I don’t care what she does as long as she doesn’t take our money again.” The words of the other stripper somehow returned everything to relative normality.

I must have been imaging the whole thing. Must have been the cold messing with my brain.

“You steal our tips, Rudolph, and I’ll give you a red nose, all right.” Sonya’s voice seemed inhuman in its rage. Fear swelled around Lilly like a choking fog. The tall stripper swung Lilly around like a toy, then pulled her fist back. Before Lilly could react, the fist connected with her nose. Shooting pain accompanied a sickening crack. Blood ran down her throat, tasting like metal, and all she could see was an ocean of red.

“Enjoy, Dumpster Girl!” Sonya tipped her upside down and slammed her headfirst into an empty trash can.

“Remember, Rudolph, you’ll never fit in anywhere. You’ll always be an outcast left out of all the reindeer games.” The other strippers convulsed with laughter.

Samhain link  for Wicked Wonderland

Amazon link

Lisa’s Amazon page

http://lisawhitefern.wordpress.com/

Comment to be in to win a copy of 15K short story Waking the Witch by Lisa Whitefern published by Freya’s Bower.

Since she came of age Lisa Whitefern has embarrassed people by talking about sex. Now she writes the hottest of erotic romance and erotica.

Lisa has a life-long passion for fairy tales and fantasy. Ever since her teacher read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to her class when she was six, Lisa’s been looking for ways to visit Narnia.

Lisa thinks it immensely unfair she can’t wiggle her nose to clean her house like Samantha in the TV show Bewitched.

She has a master’s degree with honors in English Literature, reads tarot cards and tutors children of all ages in English after school.

Although born in New York City to American parents Lisa has lived most of her life in New Zealand. She now lives in the foothills of the beautiful Waitakere Ranges of Auckland with her husband and her two gorgeous sons.

Lisa will be speaking on erotic romance at the Romance Writers’ of New Zealand Conference.

Don’t forget to follow Lisa on Twitter and like her on Facebook!

Elle James: The Melting Pot of Writing (Contest)

The joy of being a writer is having the flexibility to write those things that you enjoy writing. I love to write cowboys, cops, military heroes, comedies, suspense and paranormal romances. As a reader, I love to read all of these genres and hope that other readers will follow me no matter what genre I write. It’s exciting to wake up into a new world every day. And isn’t that why we read? To escape into another world, to be someone else and to overcome someone else’s obstacles and find love if even for a moment?

I love writing paranormals because I can make up the rules of my world and the magic that happens within it. I especially love a magical family whose members come together to help each other out. Each of the sisters have their own power relative to their position on the pentagram. Deme’s is the power of earth. She can shake it, grow it and manipulate plants. Her lover Cal is mortal, but an alpha hero willing to go up against any paranormal entity to protect the one he loves.

I started my witch series bringing all five of the sisters together in Chicago in THE WITCH’S INITIATION. They came to find one of their sisters who had disappeared. The first book was Deme Chattox’s story. The subsequent Nocturne Cravings have been Deme and Cal’s continued forays into policing the paranormals in Chicago. THE WITCH’S DESIRE takes them from Chicago to New York City. I chose to take them to NYC because I built that city as a den of paranormal activity and creatures in my demon series out with Nocturne Cravings. They even bump into some of the characters from that series.

As an author and a reader, I like to revisit characters from previous books. It makes them more of a community and, after all, we grow to love these characters as we read them and become part of their lives.

Do you like to revisit characters from previous books? Are you okay with two series colliding?

Leave a comment for a chance to win a download of TARZAN & JANINE,

a book coauthored by Elle James and Delilah Devlin!

THE WITCH’S DESIRE

Harlequin Nocturne Cravings

The third book in Elle James’s Witch series

by Elle James aka Myla Jackson

Amazon | Nook | Kobo

Demons, darkness and desire…

The only time Demi Chattox, a witch, gets to see her lover, special agent Cal Black, is when they’re chasing down demons. When they’re tasked with escorting a VIP—a Very Important Paranormal—to a summit meeting in New York, it seems like the perfect assignment. A few days away from the job…in a Manhattan hotel…just the two of them…

But there’s a storm ravaging New York, and a vampire who doesn’t want this particular VIP to make it to the summit. As Demi and Cal race to complete their assignment, they’re driven by their sense of duty—and by their desperate need to find some time alone.

Elle James’s Bio: Elle James spent twenty years livin’ and lovin’ in South Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, Elle is proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats. She has 39 works with Harlequin, self published works under pen name Elle James, over 40 works with other publishers including Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington and Avon and 18 works self-published under pen name Myla Jackson. Now living in northwest Arkansas, she isn’t wrangling cattle, she’s wrangling her muses, a malti-poo and yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.

Social Media:

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Mychael Black: Obsessions

When a romance author says the word ‘obsessions,’ there’s really no telling what they’re talking about. But today’s blog isn’t about the usual obsessions: hot men, sexy images, passionate kisses, hot men locked in passionate kisses in sexy images… Well, you get the idea.

Nope. Today I’m talking about completely unrelated obsessions. I’m a bit (okay, maybe more than a bit) of a research junkie. I regularly share news stories on archaeological finds throughout the world, goofy dog pics and vids, and stories about my other favorite animal: the shark.

I’m not entirely sure where, how, or when my love of sharks got started. Maybe it was my first viewing of Jaws years and years ago. Maybe it’s my love of the sea and its depths (even though I won’t swim in it—fear of drowning and all that). Whatever the reason(s), sharks are my second favorite animals on the planet—right behind canines.

I constantly watch (and rewatch) shows, movies, and documentaries about sharks–real and fictional. I’ve seen every shark horror movie made to date (unless I missed a foreign one or two), and all the gigantic shark B-movies. I avidly search for anything relating to my favorite shark of all time: Carcharodon megalodon.

Sharks are beautiful creatures, but Meg holds a special place in my heart. Just the sheer size and strength behind a fish that was about as big as a Greyhound bus is staggering. The teeth alone are colossal. The largest Meg tooth (untouched) is about seven inches. I have a small one that’s about three inches. (More pics are in a photo album on my Facebook page.)

Maybe one of these days I’ll try my hand at writing a story like those delightfully cheesy B-rated creature features. Until then, I’ll just devour everything I can find online.

If you want to know more about Meg, you can find some good info here: http://www.flmnh.ufl.edu/fish/sharks/fossils/megalodon.html

A Google image search brings up shots from documentaries and various artist renditions, as well.

If you’re interested in conservation, there’s also the Shark Trust, based in the UK: http://www.sharktrust.org/

-Mychael

***

Bio:

Call me Katherine or Mychael–I’ll answer to both. I’m a mother, student, author by trade, and editor by compulsion. I’ve been in the publishing business for several years, namely as a writer but also as an editor on occasion. It never fails, though. I always end up editing eventually.

I’m a proud bibliophile, to which my poor sagging bookcases can attest. I read all the time, namely fantasy and romance.

When not writing or reading or editing, I…eat. Maybe sleep. Or watch Spongebob. Yes. I am a self-proclaimed, thirty-something year old Spongebob Squarepants addict. Much to my roommate’s dismay. It’s fun.

If you’re curious about what I write (and who wouldn’t be?!), then you can find me below:

http://www.mychaelblackbooks.com/

http://www.mychaelblackbooks.com/category/blog/

http://www.facebook.com/mychael.black

https://twitter.com/mychael_black

Heidi Cullinan: Bromances, Frenemies, Romances and Just Good Friends

Bromances, Frenemies, Romances and Just Good Friends: The Lure of Non-Romantic Partners and Storylines in Fiction

When people interview me, a standard question is “What do you do when you’re not writing?” Sometimes they even say “besides reading” so I can’t answer with that. My answer is always, even if they don’t nix the reading option, is “I watch TV.”

I watch a lot of TV—some is with my husband and daughter, but I watch a tonnage on my own. When I get stuck writing or have simply been at the computer too long, I whip out my phone or laptop, queue up a streaming service and  gorge. I watch just about any genre, though I really love shows far-removed from my novels: ones with police procedure, policial intrigue, legal issues or spies. Right now I’m binging on Covert Affairs, though I have Castle on backup from a Marie Sexton recommendation. I inhaled the entire series of Medium one winter in the span of a month—a real feat, as that show has nine seasons.

Two of my favorite shows though are Suits and White Collar, and I’m totally there because of the chemistry between the male leads. I write gay romance, and it’s not a big reach to imagine I’m slashing Peter and Neal or Mike and Harvey. The truth is, though, I’m not, and it’s for the same reason I’m a little nervous about the romance blooming in season 4 of Covert Affairs and why every time they give Abbie and Ichabod an intimate moment on Sleepy Hollow I dig my fingernails into my armchair to still my nerves. It’s not that I wouldn’t love a gay twist in Suits or don’t want Abbie to have a romance, but more that I love the shows’ tension, and if the main characters get together, that tension changes.

It’s one of the hardest things to wrangle as a romance author: giving the reader lots of euphoric moments, kisses and tangles of limbs but also the tension of will it really work out? Once the romantic leads are hooked up, there can still be tension, but it gets harder to spin.

As a viewer, I love seeing characters get together, but we all know once they hook up they’re liable either to turn boring or broken apart. In the past romances have tanked shows—hello, Moonlighting—and I know from whispers that when I start Castle, the romance’s eventual resolution makes the show shaky for some. I wish there could be a continuing romance in a show without it being boring—though I’d rather have a romance turn boring than the writers to turn the characters sour. I had to bail on Scandal because I had no one to root for, and the bad guys won too often. I really need that HEA, that sense that at least in fiction, everything will be okay.

Sometimes I wonder though if romance in story is changing all around, though. Maybe that romance in Covert Affairs will bloom and fade and the relationships will survive—after all, it’s never been the focus of the show, only a sidebar. Maybe they’ll find a way to make them stable together romantically and keep the interest going.

Romance novels have already done this: I couldn’t possibly list all the series with romantic through-lines where the resolution takes upwards of seven books to complete and the story remains engaging and satisfying, the characters still good at heart.

Maybe the answer is that the way we tell romantic stories are evolving. I’m living proof of that: ten years ago the few LGBT romances that existed were largely off in a separate pool, and today we’ve settled in all over, even at New York romance imprints. Someday not too far away there will be a gay romance storyline in a legal TV drama. So why wouldn’t romance and relationships and the way we tell those stories evolve in other ways too?

Because what’s a romance but a beautiful exploration of two people coming together? Whether they barely kiss on the page or engage in intense BDSM on-screen, at its backbone romance is about connection and partnering. It’s the part I love to write, why my series, which all contain new guys getting together at the core, bring back old heroes as integral supporting characters. I love writing romantic tension and romantic resolution, but I love just as much those shopping scenes and kitchen adventures and arguments in the hotel lobby.

So here’s to relationships and the continuing evolution of how they present: man and woman, two men, two women, sweet or sexy, fiery or friendly, romantic or platonic. I’ll keep reading, watching, and writing them. And I’d put a lot of money down that no matter how the presentation changes, none of us will ever get tired of them.

****

Heidi Cullinan has always loved a good love story, provided it has a happy ending. She enjoys writing across many genres but loves above all to write happy, romantic endings for LGBT characters because there just aren’t enough of those stories out there. When Heidi isn’t writing, she enjoys cooking, reading, knitting, listening to music, and watching television with her husband and ten-year-old daughter. Heidi is a vocal advocate for LGBT rights and is proud to be from the first Midwestern state with full marriage equality. Find out more about Heidi, including her social networks, and most recent/upcoming releases, at www.heidicullinan.com.

Cyndi Faria: Facebook Launch Party Benefits #Giveaway

Thank you Delilah for having me guest post for you again! I absolutely love Delilah’s blog, reading all the unique posts, and meeting new readers!

On Tuesday, I had the honor of hosting my first Facebook launch party in honor of my debut novel titled Spirit Released, book 1 in the Whisper Cove Series (blurb below). Faith and Jake live in Whisper Cove, a small coastal town, and must overcome many challenges to be together. Their story is one of hope and the power to change.

Helping me to celebrate were nine other authors and hundreds of readers! As a writer, I’m sometimes introverted and reclusive when I’m deep in a story. But meeting and interacting with readers is invigorating. This morning, I’m still excited about the interaction and response to questions asked during the party. You can get a glimpse of party happenings here: Facebook Party

As an author, the benefits of Facebook, sharing a story and characters that I’ve spent half a year with, is amazing. Yes, these parties often lure with swag, but it’s the connections made prior and during that resonate true. Learning about a writer can often be discovered by reading their work.

As a reader, what benefit do you see in attending Facebook or blog parties? Have you ever begun a reader/author relationship through social media? How has the relationship changed your life? Please share.

A copy of Spirit Released will be given to one lucky commenter.

Wishing you peace and love, Cyndi Faria

Spirit Released is available now at:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1i9KOvu

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1nlK3l0

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/RLkugD

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1gQX7Y7

iTunes: Coming Soon!

Book Format: Coming Soon!

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In the seaside town of Whisper Cove, a centuries’ old curse tests true love…

On her wedding day, Faith Cabrillo prepares to confess a desperate secret to her fiancé, Jake Mitchell—she’s cursed with both the ability of speaking to the dead…and never fulfilling the promise of true love. Before the truth is revealed, Jake’s life is endangered and Faith sacrifices herself to save him.

Grief-stricken, Jake refuses to accept Faith’s comatose state. His innovative research keeps Faith alive, yet he’s faced with his biggest challenge when Faith’s spirit appears with a warning that his life is still in danger. Because Jake’s a man of medicine, he denies his Faith truly exists on two planes. Until he talks to her. And holds her. And begins to hope that he’s wrong.

Will Jake’s devotion and Faith’s body and soul be forged by love’s healing power in time to stop a killer before the curse again claims Faith …this time forever?

Stay connected:

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/CyndiFariaAuthor

Website: http://cyndifaria.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/cyndifaria

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Cyndi-Faria/e/B00BEV8JYS/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

About the Author:

If you love a tale with courageous heroes and heroines, where their unconditional love for each other gives them strength to defeat their inner demons, award winning author Cyndi Faria invites you to enter the pages of her romances and find happily ever after.

Cyndi Faria is an engineer turned romance writer whose craving for structure is satisfied by plotting heartwarming romances with a dash of American folklore.

On and off her sexy romance pages, this California country girl isn’t afraid to dirty her hands fighting for the underdog and caretaking rescued pets. Find her helping fellow writers and leading readers to happily ever after at www.cyndifaria.com

Cheyenne Blue — Writing on the Move: Planes, Trains and Automobiles

For the last three weeks, I’ve had to do something I haven’t done in years.  Five days a week, I sit on a commuter train for two hours in each direction, heading down from Rural Paradise to Big Dirty City. Two hours each way. Plus driving to the station time, parking the car time, running under the underpass time, running back under the underpass because I realize I left the lights on time. Friends are rather horrified at how long my day has become.  Certainly there are downsides.  The local pizza shop has done rather too well out of us.  I’ve forgotten what the house looks like in daylight.  It’s costing a stonking lot of money in train fares.

But, there are upsides, the biggest of which is writing time.

My favorite place to write has always been when I’m moving.  Planes are the best.  Nifty little fold down desk in front of you, inspirational view, and someone coming by every hour offering free drinks.

Trains come a close second though.  No desk, unfortunately no drinks unless I sneak a cup of coffee on with me, and the free wifi only lasts long enough to scroll through my emails and see that access to my website is still banned under Queensland Rail’s T&C “no adult websites”.

I’m rather amazed at how productive I can be.  On my 2 hour journey, I generally get a solid 1.5 hours of writing time each way before the train gets too crowded, and I can’t type comfortably.  That’s 3 hours uninterrupted writing time a day.  Or about 5000 words on a good day, when I’ve planned out my work.

I don’t know about you, but that’s a lot more than I used to get written a day.

Right now, I’m working on a story for my own current call for submissions: a lesbian erotica collection with the theme of “Forbidden Fruit”.  You can see the CFS at http://www.cheyenneblue.com/#/archives/556 (Writers! Wander over, take a look! I’d love for you to submit!).  I’ve finished and submitted another couple of stories, written blog posts (including this one), I’m working on a novella, which for me is a shift, as for the last 14 years I’ve written short stories.

You can see some of my recent work in these anthologies:

“Perk of the Job” in XOXO Sweet and Sexy Romance edited by Kristina Wright (Cleis Press). A hotly romantic story of a veterinary nurse and her Staffy dog, both of whom have a crush on Mel’s boss. Written on a plane between Denver and Montreal.

“Cowboy Downtime” in “Cowboy Heat” edited by Delilah Devlin (Cleis Press) – Cowboys relax at a polocrosse game in the Australian outback.  He plays defence; she plays attack.  Who will come out the winner?  Written in the car on the Bruce Highway, Queensland.

“My Name is Bond” My upcoming story in “Bossy” edited by Harper Bliss:  A radiologist plays doctor to the real doctor at a radiology clinic.  This hot and loving story was written on Queensland Rail.

And of course, there’s this endless source of entertainment when writing on the train:

Laptop: $450

Commuter pass: $120

The look on the face of the woman next to me as I write “He buried his face in her wet $&*#*!!!*”

Thank you, Delilah, for kindly hosting me on your blog.

Cheyenne Blue has been peddling her erotic short stories for the last 14 years and has over 90 short stories in various anthologies.  See her work in “Best Women’s Erotica”, “Best Lesbian Erotica”, “Cowboy Heat”, “Cowboy Lust” and many many more.  She lives by the beach in Queensland Australia, and writes on planes, trains and automobiles.

 

Cheyenne Blue

________________________

Erotica by Cheyenne Blue

http://www.cheyenneblue.com

Twitter: @iamcheyenneblue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3338016.Cheyenne_Blue

Her Only Desire — in 10 Days (Contest)

Yes, there’s a contest, but you keep reading!

Just to get this out of the way up front, Her Only Desire releases in 10 days. It’s a full-length novel. Not something you see from me all that often. And it’s the first in a series. Genre? Erotic romance, suspense, mystery? There’s action and then there’s more action, baby. And it’s releasing in both ebook and print.

Here are the buy links: Amazon | B&N | BAM

This is what my publisher says about the book: “For fans of Sylvia Day and E. L. James, comes awarding-winning author Delilah Devilin’s first book in her sensual eroitic romance Sultry Summer Nights series.”

What do I think? My book’s very, very sexy. Yes, you have a young, not very experienced woman who enters the world of a very wealthy man, but that’s where the comparison with any other book ends. My guy’s disgraced, suspected of murder, an ex-SEAL who built a Black Ops company. My girl holds the key to freeing him from the past. Blah, blah, blah. It’s all in the execution, and you know me by now, there’s sex, more sex, kinkier sex, plenty of humor, and some kick ass action. It’s also set deep in the Louisiana bayou with a brief jaunt to Mexico for the hero to conduct some biz-ness.

The cover’s pretty, yes?

Does the blurb write-up intrigue you?

The moment Tilly Floret sees the sleek Bentley driving down Main Street, she knows trouble has arrived in her sleepy little town. A mysterious job posting keeps appearing at the diner where she works, and she can’t resist applying. No matter that the entire town of Bayou Vert is whispering about the wealthy, powerful man behind it all and his scandalous return home. The moment his ice-blue eyes meet hers, he ignites an all-consuming desire she never imagined possible, one she can’t deny. Ex-navy SEAL Boone Benoit never thought he’d set foot in Louisiana again. As soon as Tilly starts her new job in his pleasure club, he senses a kindred soul. One who has carefully guarded secrets of her own-and a simmering hunger for the taboo rites of mastery and submission. The only difference is she doesn’t yet know it. Now as Boone tutors Tilly in the tantalizing world of leather and lace, she will shed her every inhibition and surrender to him, body and soul.

Tell you what. Read the excerpt below, post a comment, and you’ll be entered to win a signed copy of my latest collection, Cowboy Heat.

Excerpt from Her Only Desire…

“Tell me, Tilly. What do you think BDSM is all about?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she said faintly. No way would she describe the images in her mind.

“Blunt talk. You were ready for that from me. Give me the same courtesy.”

Her fingers were clasped tightly in her lap. She drew a breath and let her gaze fall away. “I think it’s for people who haven’t learned to connect with others in a healthy way. Or who have something missing inside themselves.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his expression shuttered. “Are you open to the possibility that entering that world can help a person find what’s missing in their lives?”

She raised her gaze and gave him a frown. “Maybe that’s what you choose to believe about me, but twisting my words doesn’t make it true.”

“What do you think might be missing inside me?”

She shook back her hair and lifted her chin. “Like I said. Connection. Being forced to leave everything and everyone you knew behind can’t have been easy. You were the high school football star. On the honor roll. Everything was ripped out from under your feet.”

“So, you think my lack of control over what happened made me seek the ultimate control over my body and someone else’s?”

Her chest pinched, and she sucked in a deep breath before she gave him a nod.

His gaze studied her. “Does that thought disturb you? Surrendering control to someone else?”

“I can’t imagine trusting anyone enough to allow them to tie me up and do whatever they want. It’s dangerous.”

“It can be,” he said, nodding. “But creating fear in my submissive is never my goal. Inspiring trust. Giving pleasure. Helping her discover her own potential for pleasure and submission… Now, those acts are things that excite me.”

A shiver worked its way down her spine, although whether from what he described or the silky tone of his voice, she didn’t know. A knot lodged in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “What did I do to make you think I might be like…that?”

His grin was easy, startling, and at odds with the stern set of his jaw. “You gave me your foot.” He leaned over the table, his eyes alight with humor. “You didn’t want to, but you were curious. The action, lifting your foot, put you physically off-balance. You, Tilly Floret, gave yourself over to me.”

Her breath hitched. The memory flashed in her mind and she remembered the jumble of sensations and emotions that simple action and his care had engendered in her. “All you did was slide a shoe on my foot. I wasn’t acceptin’ anything else from you.”

“You let me touch you,” he said softly.

She blinked. A subtle tell, she realized, because his crooked smile widened. His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. His expression was…expectant, his body unmoving. “Can I show you it’s not all about whips and chains?”

The silkiness was still there in his tone, a teasing quality that tugged at her willpower.

“Will you allow me to show you that surrender can be subtle and beautiful? That the lifestyle isn’t really about sexual perversion at all?”

Maybe the wine was to blame for her body’s reactions. Her skin tingled, flushing hot. Her nipples tightened. She shifted on her seat, squeezing her thighs together, because the timbre of his voice, so deep and smooth, felt like a physical caress.

He leaned closer. “We’re alone. Just you and me. Answer me.”

She cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly, a halfhearted gesture because her body was already leaning toward his. “That’s a lie. You have people all around us. For all I know, you have this courtyard filled with bugs and cameras. Observin’ people is your business. The way you live.”

“True, but only my most trusted are here. They won’t intrude. Or ever speak about what they see or hear.”

Tilly drew in a deep breath. “And that’s supposed to reassure me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are the bedrooms wired?”

This time he blinked, and her back stiffened. She’d paraded around nude after her shower, while she’d sifted through clothing to find the most flattering outfit.

His mouth tightened a fraction. “The cameras are for your protection, you know. You entered my world willingly. This is one of the prices.”

She remembered the way he and Serge had watched her on the flight to Monterrey. Certainly his large, rugged next-in-command was one of those overseeing her “protection.” Renewed irritation tensed her muscles. “You expect me to learn to be comfortable knowin’ your men watch me?”

“I expect you to learn to take comfort from the fact that I’ll keep you safe.” He said, his words slightly clipped.

Tilly’s shoulders drooped. Suddenly, she felt weary. “At what price?”

Boone leaned back and set his napkin beside his plate.

A door opened onto the patio and a servant walked to the table and took their dishes.

When the woman’s dark-eyed gaze rose to Boone’s and he gave her a nod, Tilly snorted. Not just for her protection or his. For his comfort and amusement as well. He didn’t have to ring a bell to bring the staff. All he had to do was give a subtle signal, placing his napkin beside his plate, to bring someone running.

“You’re entitled to your anger,” Boone said, his voice once again soothing. “But please stay for dessert. Marta will be disappointed if you don’t try it.”

“I think I’ve had enough,” she said quietly. Right this moment, the only thing she wanted was to run as far away from this man as she could.

“If staying would please me, would you? A taste is all I ask.”

And he wasn’t talking about the dessert. She was certain of that.

The door opened again. The woman, Marta, brought out a tray. She set down plates with molded flan and half a dozen raspberries beside the custards. Then she left again as quietly as she’d come.

The chair across from hers scraped.

Her pulse raced as Boone carried his chair and his plate toward her. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her damnable curiosity kept her frozen in her chair because she was dying to know what he intended to do next. If he moved close enough to touch her, would she have the will to resist?

He sat the plate beside hers, his chair as well, and then leaned back. “The fact that a table separated us gave you courage,” he murmured.

“Now you want to intimidate me?” The quaver in her voice matched the trembling in her body.

“No, I want to be close enough to you that I won’t miss anything.”

Close enough that he couldn’t help but note how flushed her skin was or how her erect nipples pushed against the front of her thin bra. Pretending she didn’t care, she lifted her chin defiantly.

Boone gave her a half smile and leaned toward her. “Indulge me?” he whispered. “I promise I won’t do anything that will embarrass you.”

She met his steady gaze, her fearless pose unraveling because he was so close she felt the heat from his thigh right beside hers.

“Tilly…close your eyes. I want to feed you.”

She searched his expression, carefully neutral except for the slight curving of his mouth. He was teasing her. “This is silly. I feel silly.”

“Indulge me. We’ll both enjoy the experience.”

Huffing a breath, she closed her eyes. Not trusting him for a moment, but she’d let him play his game. Fact was, she enjoyed the intimacy of sitting so close to him. She liked the way he smelled: like cinnamon and male. Liked the heat emanating from his body.

“Open your mouth.”

She complied, opening like a baby bird waiting for a worm. At that thought, she wrinkled her nose. Then she tasted the metal bottom of a spoon on her tongue and an explosion of sweetness as she closed her mouth around the flan. She groaned in ecstasy.

“Open.”

She opened again and received a second spoonful of the sinfully delicious dessert—creamy, smooth, sweet like caramel.

“Open.”

This time, she didn’t hesitate. But a spoon didn’t enter her mouth. Instead, two fingers, tasting slightly salty, deposited a raspberry on her tongue. She shivered, fighting the urge to close her lips around his fingers as she had the spoonfuls of flan.

A fingertip dragged across her tongue as it left her mouth. She bit into the berry, tart, sweet, and salty exploding on her taste buds.

“If we were lovers,” he said beside her ear. “I’d take advantage of the fact you can’t anticipate my moves,” he whispered. “Open.”

Without a thought, she did, and his finger daubed flan on her tongue. The taste was even better than before without the metallic aftertaste of the silver spoon.

“I’d open that clasp and part your pretty dress. Open.”

Again, his fingers entered her mouth, dropping another raspberry. Her breaths grew ragged. Her heart raced.

“I’d thumb open the clasp of your bra and expose your pretty breasts. Open. No talking.”

She was just about to ask how he knew her breasts were pretty. How had he known? The thought of cameras entered her mind and for the first time, they didn’t horrify her. They became part of his seduction.

Flan, again, was delivered by two fingers.

The urge was too strong. She latched her lips around them and sucked.

His breath gusted against her cheek.

Not as steady as before.

She almost smiled.

He withdrew his fingers. “Open.”

She did. And this time, a hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head back. His lips touched hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She could taste the flan on his tongue and she swallowed greedily, taking him even deeper inside her mouth. An arm settled on her shoulders, turning her slightly. The kiss deepened.

Flan, wine, raspberries—none tasted quite as wicked as Boone Benoit’s mouth. His lips sealed hers. When he began to move, dragging her lips in slow circles, she was helpless to follow his lead, drugged by the sensual tug.

When he drew back, she licked her lips and slowly opened her eyes.

His blue eyes gleamed. “There’s pleasure in submission, Tilly.”

Jennifer Kacey: To Care or Not to Care? – That is the Question (Contest)

Everyone has an opinion, right? And everyone has the right and freedom to share that opinion. Absolutely.

But that doesn’t mean I have to let that opinion affect me. And thankfully I’m very lucky in letting other people’s judgments roll off my back.

I care what some people think of me and my writing. The people that “get it” and “get me”.  Not the people that are shocked, appalled, and offended by it. No matter how great it is they’re still going to be offended, appalled, and shocked by it. It happens.

Trust me, I know what I write isn’t for everyone. ***GRINS***

I don’t like sci-fi…who knew? That doesn’t make me a bad person. So, me writing, reading, and devouring Erotica, ménage, same sex, medical fetish, like Orgasm University that just released, and a whole host of other taboo topics doesn’t make me anymore of a bad person.

I’m gonna tell you guys a little secret. Come a bit closer to the screen so I can whisper it to you…

I like tattoos. *GASP*

And piercings. *The horror*

And a WHOLE LOTTA KINK!!! (If you’re feeling woozy this may not be the blog post for you.) *smiles*

I like life, and love and respect and family and singing and crochet and laying out on a sunny beach slathered in SPF 5000 so I don’t burn.

All of these things make me…me.

And I’m proud of the me I have become. I’m still growing and changing and exploring everything the word has to offer, and feel blessed for each day I get to continue my journey.

For those of you this strikes a chord with – MWAH & HIGH F***ING FIVE!

For those of you that turn your nose up at it and wrinkle your face….please refer to sentence two above.

The best advice I’ve ever been given. “Find the real you and NEVER settle for anything less.” I live by this sentence. Every day, every hour.

I think if more people did, instead of being judgmental and hateful, the world would be a better place.

My two cents.

Now it’s your turn. Want to win a free e-copy of Orgasm University? Let me know what you think.

Do you care what people think?

Victoria’s been called frigid by every boyfriend she’s ever had. Having never gotten off during sex with even one of them probably has something to do with it. But none of them knew how broken she really is. She not only hasn’t gotten off having sex, she’s never orgasmed…ever.

Then she sees an interdepartmental memo for a university study that claims it can help with her little problem. Once she signs her name on the dotted line, Dr. Hotlidge, finds all the right buttons to push.

He’s been looking for the perfect subject for his grant study, but something’s been missing from each of the women he’s questioned so far. Everything changes when Jane Smith #129 steps into his exam room.

It’s supposed to be anonymous, clinical research and nothing more. But when he finds her inner submissive hiding just below the surface, they both find more than they bargained for.

A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Buy Links:

Orgasm University on Ellora’s Cave

The other books in the Members Only Series can be found here…

Together In Cyn

Haleigh’s Ink

A Very Menage Christmas

Duke’s Valentine

Jennifer Kacey is a wife, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – http://www.jenniferkacey.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kacey.7

Twitter – https://twitter.com/JenniferKacey

Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6941549.Jennifer_Kacey

Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/jenniferkacey/